#the dramatic change in his expression in that last gif......the Relief

[a-boca-do-inferno]

blueberry (caesar x human!reader)

summary: Man is insecure and, perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

words: 3.6k

notes: can be read as a standalone or a continuation to alone. this is set somewhere between the events of wftpota but he is alive in my heart btw. enjoy x

gif credit

“I don’t care”, you sign and huff, glaring at him. You needed to hurt him; like he had hurt you just now. You point to the cave entrance. “Leave.” 

Caesar shoots you a desolated look, standing in the middle of the rain, completely soaked. He can’t speak. Not this time. He’d done it so many times before, repeating the same thing over and over again. I will change. I will stop worrying. I love you. And now you could see the truth: no matter how much he claimed to love you, his sorrows would always be stronger than his feelings and you just had enough. You were a tired woman. And he knew that, too. 

“Okay”, he mumbles at last with a brief sign as he watches his step and backs away. 

He leaves with his head down and disappears into the dark of the night. You’re only left with the sound of heavy drops smashing onto the floor. The ground now felt like opening up under your feet, but it wasn’t always like this. 

Caesar stared at you with widened eyes, not noticing your presence until you spoke up. A smile spread on his face and he shrugged off his worries, his frown fading gradually. “You… lifesaver.” He gesticulated toward the food you carried with a grateful look. It smelled so good and he didn’t hesitate to grab the bowl of soup, sipping on it and letting out a sigh of relief. “Thank you... for everything”, he signed with his free hand after a moment.

“You’re welcome, now what do you want?” You teased and ruffled his head lightly. Caesar had become a good friend over the past few months. It felt like you’ve known each other for a long time, even before the flu. “Or were you just that hungry?”

Caesar snorted, still drinking the soup. “Both… I think.” He swallowed before adding hoarsely, “sometimes I just need… to see you.” It sounded like a lighthearted comment, but he wasn’t smiling because deep down he knew it was true. You made him feel like he never did with anyone, ape or otherwise. He recoiled in his spot, watching you with attentive eyes. 

And you, to your credit, chuckled quietly with pink cheeks, “well, here I am.” You sat in front of him and leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “You know, Caesar, I’ve been thinking… Maybe you should come stay with me for a while.” 

You were well aware of his problem with loneliness ever since he lost Cornelia and couldn’t help but want to take care of him. Being a leader had its perks and many included a deep sense of isolation, especially when the very lives of a whole species depended on him to make it in this world. Humans were still a constant threat, even amidst the downfall of civilization, but you reckoned Caesar felt lonely long before the apocalypse from the few stories he’d tell you about Will. If anything, being surrounded by his own kind only alienated him more overtime due to the burden of the “crown”.

Caesar tensed up, his eyebrows raising at the unexpected offer. He stayed unmoving for a few seconds, however his demeanor eventually changed into one of contemplation. Perhaps it wasn’t such a terrible idea at all. He’d been greatly feeling the change in environment since they moved and doing things alone had always proven to be harder for him, if more familiar. Taking another sip of his soup, his thoughtful gaze traveled the ceiling. 

“Sure… you wanna live… with my drama?” He finally asked, with an almost amused expression.

“We can be dramatic together”, came the quick reply, as you carried a playful tone of your own. “But really, I think it’ll do you some good. It’s not permanent, I just wanna help you get a little more time to adjust while you sort things out with the council.” You grinned softly, “change is always overwhelming and some company might broaden your horizons, maybe even help with your decision.”

Caesar pondered your words, still with a humorous smile. “I could stay… for a while.” He added with some emphasis. 

“It’s settled then, you can move in anytime you want”, you stood up and patted his shoulder. As you noticed there was a hint of uneasiness lingering in his eyes, you hummed, “consider it my formal thanks to you for taking me in. Now we’re even.”

“Then I move in… tonight.”, he tried to play it off with humor, signing with a smirk. “Don’t like my place… anyways.”

In fact, deep down Caesar was glad to get away from there; especially because he was about to face the most challenging phase of leadership: letting go. By the end of the day, he was all settled into your home. He took your bed under your indignant protests that the floor was a “back killer”, in your own words. You had a way of making him sustain a smile for far longer than he was used to—which wasn’t often—and that was the sole reason for his compliance. 

As you were fluffing the makeshift pillows made out of animal skin, he organized his stuff in the small cabinet you made yourself. You were a handy carpenter. A quiet chuckle reached his ears and he shot you a glance. 

“I didn’t take you for the messy type, I thought all leaders were neat.”

Caesar rolled his eyes, closing the cabinet door. “I only clean… other people’s messes”, he signed with a wry smile. He turned around and leaned against the wall to face you properly, his grin fading into a sterner look. “I’m glad… you’re here.”

“And I’m glad you’re here with me, that way I don’t have to worry about your insomniac ass wandering in the cold”, you threw a stick at him, sitting on the bed with a small beam. “I really do worry and care for you, Caesar. I hope you know that.”

Caesar caught the stick with ease and met your gaze with warm eyes once again. He was clearly touched by your words and his shy grin turned into a real one, despite the tiredness on his features. He came over to sit beside you, much closer than before. 

“I know”, he replied huskily, gently caressing the nape of your neck with his thumb. “And I hope you know… I care about you.” You shivered under his touch and your lips reached for his rough palm as you kissed it. His breath hitched at the sensation of your smooth skin and he touched your foreheads, shutting his eyes.

It was now but a distant, bittersweet memory haunting you while you gathered your things and left your tent-like home with him, preparing to move in with Maurice. You had a close bond with the ginger ape due to his calmer nature; sometimes you even assisted in his classes, too, and he knew better than anyone about the shortcomings of your relationship with Caesar. This time was no different and he offered you shelter right away. He had always been supportive of you two, but never judging when you had a falling out with the boss.

Maurice knew better than anyone as Caesar got older, his stubbornness and overprotective nature only got bigger. You left out a humourless laugh, walking into your new home. Man is insecure and perhaps not so surprisingly, so are apes. And with insecurity comes obsession, along with an unhealthy need for control. Yet you always had too much understanding in your heart. Caesar just needed help, you thought, as you would peck his head whilst he slept soundly on your lap. It was so rare to see him that serene, and you cherished every second of it. 

He still had trouble sleeping; nightmares and such. Your heart ached with the ever present reminder that you just couldn’t make all his pain go away forever, no matter how hard you tried. And God, did you try. Rocking a grown chimpanzee’s body to make him go to sleep wasn’t exactly in your plans when he brought you into the colony, but you gladly took the task. You loved the guy, after all. 

And wouldn’t it be stupid to even doubt that? Still, that’s what Caesar did on occasion. He wasn’t easily upset, but when he was... It often got ugly. You were never a fearful girl, but seeing his angry fits deeply affected you. Soon talking to him became a constant walk on eggshells and if he noticed your change in behavior, he never really spoke on it, which was perhaps his biggest flaw; not communicating. But he was a leader, and a perceptive one at that. Even though he never said it out loud, it must have been clear that you couldn’t take it anymore. There was something telling about the way he simply let you go a few hours before, with no fight. 

“Comfortable?” Maurice eyes you carefully, bringing some blueberries with him to cheer you up. 

You can’t help but grin at the sight. “I am. Thank you.” You sign back and nod, taking a deep breath as you gaze around. “Caesar?” You hum, curious of where he might be. You hadn’t seen him since last night’s argument.

The orangutan shakes his head slowly, pointing at the forest, “he hunts… when angry.”

You snort. “Sounds about right.”

Maurice grunts in agreement, signing softly, “you two… end?”

You take a moment to consider his question. It looked like a break up, didn’t it? Although you weren’t sure if apes even used the concept of “breaking up” with their mates. Every couple you knew in the colony seemed happy together. No trouble in paradise. You shrug and look down. “Maybe.”

“Caesar is… difficult”, he rasps, causing you to smile despite yourself. That’s the understatement of the year. The ape adds, “you like blueberries… for a reason. They’re not… always sweet.”

You scoff at the comparison. No wonder Maurice was a great teacher. You sign with amusement, “except I can smash a blueberry if I don’t like it, but with Caesar, I can’t.”

Maurice laughs deeply. “Fair enough.”

As the night fell again, you watched the apes gather around the fire to hang out after another tranquil day from a distance. Since the war, things were slowly returning to normal and you felt a mixture of relief and anxiety every time the thought crossed your mind; growing accustomed to peace those days was dangerous. Hope could be a friend, but also a great enemy in the apocalypse. Caesar had taught you that through your many late night talks after you made love. A light blush came across your cheeks as you sighed and tried to shake off those memories. 

Dating another species was already a challenge on its own, now add being the leader of a colony on top of that, you were surprised you two had made it that far. When Caesar found you all alone hiding in a cave, struggling to survive on your own, never in a million years did you think that creature would become your closest friend and even lover. He didn’t like or didn’t see the point of those nomenclatures, sure, as he only ever referred to you as his family. If other apes outside Maurice and Blue Eyes knew about the implications of it, though, no one dared speak on it. Yet it didn’t make it any easier to digest whenever you stopped to think about it, even more so amidst his angry fits.

You finished preparing for bed and lay down in silence, staring at the stars. Another summer had begun with the difference of Caesar’s absence by your side as you tried to sleep. You took a deep breath and wiped away some stubborn tears, turning to face the wall. You closed your eyes for a brief second and when you opened them again, a large silhouette appeared on the stone surface and you slowly shifted back to find Caesar standing tall, eyeing you silently.

“Talk?” He signs hesitantly, his expression difficult to read in the dark. You only nod and he approaches you, and as he steps in an angle under the moonlight, you see he’s got a deep cut across his abdomen. You immediately sit up, looking alert. He smiles weakly and waves a dismissive hand, taking a seat beside you. “It’s… fine. Not… serious.”

You frown nevertheless, tracing his bruise and inspecting it. “What happened?”

“Bear.” He murmurs hoarsely, with an amused gleam in his green eyes. You grunt in displeasure and he asks with an almost mocking tone, “worry?”

“Of course I do, Caesar.” You huff indignantly and it only makes him smirk, but you keep glaring at him. “You think it’s funny?”

“Yes”, he says, reaching out to take your hand over his furry stomach. He comes closer, bringing his forehead to yours, “I’m… sorry.” You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You’re not sure what to say, but he fills in the silence with a low sound, “miss… you.”

“You’re a stubborn old man”, you pull away to look him in the eye, albeit your voice stays tender. He looks humoured by your choice of words. “But I missed you too.”

Caesar’s expression softens significatively. He produces another coo, “forgive?”

You smile and bring his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. “Maybe.”

“Brought… present.” He rumbles after a moment and you watch him leave in silence, coming back shortly with a bowl full of blueberries. You grin and Caesar hoots quietly, feeding one to you. You blush and accept the gesture, causing him to nuzzle your face gently, “Maurice… advice.”

You roll your eyes. “That turncoat.” 

Caesar only snickers and shrugs, making a face as he tries a blueberry. He signs and pushes the bowl towards you, shaking his head in comic disapproval, “sour.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

[star-wrote]

nsfw alphabet : daryl dixon

ao3 link

character: Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

warnings: | nsfw(obviously) | swearing | sexual details | mentions of daryl’s trauma | intentional lowercase | 18+ |

a/n: recently became obsessed with this man. there aren’t enough nsfw alphabets of him so enjoy :)

(not my gif or character)

A- aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

daryl thinks the aftercare is the best part of it all. it took a while to break down the habit of him just rolling over and falling asleep, but he got there eventually. he holds you and makes sure you're okay, cleaning you up if necessary. he lets you curl up into him, wanting to feel your warm breath on his skin. you listen to each other’s heartbeats, and drift into an exhausted sleep.

B- body part (their favorite part of both of your bodies)

daryl dixon loves every part of you. he doesn’t say that his favorite are your tits or ass, that’s something merle would say, and it just doesn’t sit right with him. instead, he thinks that your eyes are his favorite part of you. he likes that he can communicate with you just through the looks you give each other. he loves that he has to ask you to keep them open and look at him when he's making you feel too good to do so.

your favorite part of daryl are his thighs. big, strong, and sturdy; the perfect seat. his thigh can fit perfectly between your legs, holding your hips with his giant hands. his hands. you suppose that they could also be your favorite.

C- cum (anything to do with it)

since it’s the apocalypse, you and daryl decide that it’s better to be safe and not cum inside you. even though it takes every ounce of his control not to. he opts for pulling out and humming on your stomach instead. but you better prepare for when he finds condoms on a run because he will fuck you like it’s your last time together. which, hey, it could be.

D- dirty secret (self explanatory)

other than wanting to cum inside you, daryl really wants to fuck you alone in the woods, up against a tree. he knows it’s not very practical, especially with the dead walking around. he just can’t help but thinking how hot it would be for you to try and be quiet as not to draw in any walkers. 

E- experience (do they know what they’re doing)

most of daryl’s experience came from random drunk hookups that merle pressured him into before the world ended. it involved dramatic moans from the women, and daryl being too stuck in his head to remember anything else. he was open to you teaching him what felt good, and picked up on it fast. as a hunter, he has always been observant, and that doesn’t leave when it comes to your pleasure. he watched every expression, and hears every hitch in your breath to learn what makes you feel good. he asks if you're liking it, which sounds like sinful dirty talk to you.

F- favorite position (self explanatory)

it started out being doggie style, because he just couldn't bear for you to look at him or his scars. but with some gentle begging from you, he decided that he couldn't bear for you to not look at him. missionary is now his favorite, because he can still control the situation, and see the pleasure in your eyes at the same time.

G- goofy (how serious are they)

daryl is obviously very serious when it comes to the outside world, which doesn’t really change when it comes to the bedroom. since you managed to relax him and get him comfortable enough around you to break his walls down, he lets little laughs and smiles come through at your jokes, but not without jokingly telling you to stop.

H- hair grooming habits (how much hair do they have down there)

it is the apocalypse, so grooming isn’t necessarily the most important. the carpet matches the drapes. plus he doesn’t expect you to shave, so why should he? in fact, when you did shave one time, he freaked out and begged you to never do it again(unless you wanted to of course), which warranted a sigh of relief from you. he says that only bitches eat shaved pussy.

I- intimacy (romantic or rough/dirty)

it was always hard for daryl to bring out his romantic side, but he tries so hard for you. he grunts out praises and a little “love ya s’much” when he cums, letting you know that you’re the only one on his mind. 

J- jack off (how often do they masturbate)

literally never. it isn’t very convenient, and he never really has a high sex drive. when he does get turned on, it’s because you’re right there. no point in taking care of it himself when you're in front of him.

K- kinks (self explanatory)

daryl never got a chance to explore his kinky side before the apocalypse since most of his experience was with women who he didn’t trust or love. when he started to trust you in the bedroom(or where the apocalypse allows), you both started to experiment with what you are into.

  -size kink: he loves when you look so small compared to him

  -daddy kink: this one felt weird to him at first since you were younger than him, but he couldn’t help the twitch in his dick when you called him that while you were cumming (it is definitely used more after that)

L- location (where they like to get it on)

anywhere that is safe and gives you time to explore each others bodies is his favorite. still, the idea of fucking you in the woods sounds hot to him...

M- motivation (what turns them on)

anytime he sees you taking down walkers, or just overall being badass, he gets a little turned on. also when you look at him with your big doe eyes, he has to control himself from taking you in front of everyone.

N- no (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

daryl isn't into hurting you in any way, especially because of what he went through in his childhood. he sees it as somehow becoming like his father, and that is something that he hates. so big no on hurting you, even if he does think you're pretty when you cry.

O- oral (do they prefer receiving or giving)

one of daryl’s favorite sights is you on your knees for him, with tears streaming down your face as you try and fit all of him in your mouth. however, that sight can't compare to how you look when he’s between your thighs. he thinks he must've died and gone to heaven when he sees your breasts rising and falling with each deep breath. the little tugs on his hair and the praise from your lips makes him decide that he loves going down on you more than anything.

P- pace (do they prefer fast or slow)

when he’s had a long day or just wants to get some anger out, he wants to go fast and rough. usually he goes slow and deep, just to feel all of you for as long as he can.

Q- quickie (do they like them)

quickies have become a must in some cases, especially if you don't have much time because you're on a run, or you have to get a round in before the group wakes up. he always makes sure to make every time you're together special, no matter how short.

R- risk (do they like to try new things)

he’s never been a risky guy, but if you suggested something to try, he would consider. as long as he knows you're safe, he is down for anything.

S- stamina (how many times and how long each round)

even though he’s older than you, his stamina is immaculate. even if he’s tired, he knows how to make you cum enough to tire you out.

T- toys (do they like using them)

since most things gathered on runs get checked, toys aren't really a priority. if you’re with him on a run, you two might find one and use it, but you don't dare bring it home with you. daryl likes to pleasure you by himself anyway.

U- unfair (how often do they tease)

such a tease. when he’s feeling especially cocky, he likes to have complete control over you, which includes controlling your orgasm. he will edge you for what feels like an eternity, just because he loves hearing your pretty voice beg all pathetically. 

V- volume (how loud are they)

he adapted to being very quiet because most of the time you were together were around the group, or outside where walkers could hear. his grunts, moans, and dirty talk start coming through when the group finds safety, or when you are on runs in a safer place. he definitely starts going on runs with you just to fuck you and hear your moans.

W- wild card (anything random)

daryl had never been one for talking, but when his dick is deep inside your wet pussy, he can’t help but spout the dirty thoughts that come to his mind. whether it’s praise, degradation, or the occasional swear, he knows it works you up from how you whimper and clench around him.

X- x-ray (what’s going on down there)

long and thick, a couple of prominent veins, and a slight upward curve. this man walks like he has a big dick.

Y- yearning (sex-drive level)

very very low before he met you, but now he wants to fuck you every night if able.

Z- zzz (how fast do they fall asleep)

maybe it was his body adapting to living on the run, or never getting good sleep as a kid, but daryl takes ages to fall asleep. having your body next to him helps, and he starts to feel safe enough to let his guard down and sleep. however, he does wrap a protective arm around you just in case <3

[panharmonium]

THAT is the importance of an adult who Understands.

one of the things that i always come back to when i think about sasuke is that sasuke has virtually everybody in the village fooled.  you couldn’t find a more messed up kid in all the hidden leaf if you tried, but you wouldn’t know it to look at him, because he can’t afford to acknowledge or display weakness - firstly, because weakness means he isn’t strong enough to take on itachi, and secondly, because signs of struggle on sasuke’s part might mean that an authority figure tries to involve themself in his life, and sasuke doesn’t want anyone interfering in something he sees as a personal quest.  he doesn’t see himself as a child who needs to be looked after by adults; he sees himself as an adult in a frustratingly small body, and he wants all the other adults to leave him alone and let him do what he needs to do.  he doesn’t want meddling.  he wants everyone who has the power to potentially keep him from getting what he most desires to remain oblivious to his true state of mind, to not look too closely, to never see a child in distress, because if he ever lets on that he doesn’t have his shit together, it’s possible that one of the leaf’s less negligent grown-ups will swoop down on him and start trying to intervene/“parent” him, which to sasuke’s mind just means “get in the way.”  

sasuke, who has long felt like he’s already an adult dealing with adult problems, won’t tolerate that.  so he masks his issues, to the point where he has virtually everyone around him completely deceived.  his regular schoolteachers don’t worry about him - he’s a high achiever, he gets perfect grades, he’s top of his class in everything, he doesn’t make trouble.  his classmates don’t worry about him - they buy the ‘i’m so cool, nothing fazes me’ act and worship at his feet, even as he demonstrates that he wants nothing to do with them.  the rest of the leaf village doesn’t worry about him, either - they see him as a source of village pride (and a source of entertainment/drama, like when they’re all so excited to watch The Last Uchiha fight for their nation during the chunin exams).  even though sasuke is so messed up on the inside, the exterior facade he presents to people is specifically designed to prevent any wondering about how he’s doing.  as far as the world can see, he’s doing Just Fine (and while everyone is busy not wondering about his health, he can get down to the business of getting his revenge).

sasuke’s strategy for relating to other people is, essentially, the opposite of naruto’s approach.  naruto, in his early childhood, draws as much attention to himself as possible, causing all sorts of mayhem, in the hope that someone, somewhere will see him.  he makes trouble and causes problems precisely because he desperately wants someone to acknowledge his pain, and that’s how he ends up landing iruka as an adult support figure, because iruka notices what’s happening and decides to get involved.  sasuke, in contrast to naruto, doesn’t want anyone to acknowledge or even notice his pain, because if they do notice it, they might try to stop him from pursuing what he thinks is the only way to alleviate it.  that’s not an acceptable outcome for him, so instead of making a scene and calling attention to himself, he hides in plain sight. 

sasuke doesn’t want people to get involved in his life.  he wants to be left to his own devices.  he doesn’t think he needs (read: deserves) anybody’s help, and some tiny part of him knows that a Responsible Adult might raise their eyebrows at what he’s doing to himself, so he uses his “high-achiever, too cool for school” persona to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.  and he almost succeeds - until kakashi enters the picture.  kakashi, who can’t be fooled.  kakashi, who has known from Day One, Minute One exactly what goal is driving all of sasuke’s high achievement, and who knows that sasuke is NOT okay, in either the head or the heart.  kakashi, who in the above gifset can tell that sasuke is having a crisis without even turning around.  kakashi doesn’t need to be shown evidence before he gets concerned.  he’s known from the very start that sasuke is struggling, because he lived through similar pains and tried to cope with them in similarly unhealthy ways (remember: “useless things like emotions only get in the way”/“having too many ties in this world will only lead you astray” + “everyone you’re talking about has already been killed”/“they’re all dead...because i wasn’t strong enough to save them”).

sasuke still tries to put up the front.  a few scenes prior to the above gifset, sasuke is the one who is making fun of naruto for freezing up - you’re not hurt, are you...scaredy-cat.  and he completely fools his peers with his attitude - sakura’s got stars in her eyes, naruto’s super jealous; both of them think sasuke’s So Cool and Super Powerful and Not Afraid of Anything!

but when sasuke himself is confronted with a serious, imminent threat to his life (one against which his supposedly “advanced” skills are useless, one from which he can’t protect himself; aka, one where he’s suddenly reminded that he’s actually a twelve year-old genin and his safety is out of his control, just like it was the night his family was murdered), he’s the one who panics.  the other kids are scared, too - but sasuke completely loses it.  he almost kills himself to get away from the intensity of his fear.  *cough* it’s the ptsd *cough* but anyway -

kakashi is able to sense this without even turning around.  he’s preparing to fight an aggressor under the least ideal circumstances possible - they were supposed to be on a mission where it was four people protecting one man, but because tazuna lied to them, they’re now in a situation where it’s one man protecting four people, including three children - and even with all of that competing for his attention, kakashi is still focusing closely enough on each individual kid to sense that sasuke is going off the rails.  without even turning around, he knows.

we all remember this, right?

it doesn’t matter how much of an act sasuke puts on.  kakashi has been there.  he knows better.  he can’t be fooled.  he calls for sasuke by name and pulls him back from the brink.

kakashi interrupts this crisis so effectively.  not only is he able to snap sasuke out of his panic, but he’s also careful to then extend his reassurance to everyone present, accomplishing the dual purposes of calming everyone else down and also redirecting attention away from sasuke’s more extreme reaction, which the others haven’t noticed yet.  it’s deftly done.  it addresses sasuke’s crisis on an individual level without putting him in the spotlight.  it works.  the way sasuke relaxes in that last gif...man.

calm down.  i’ll protect you with my life.

i’ve already talked a little bit about how much it would mean for somebody with sasuke’s particular history to hear that (especially when those words are spoken by an adult who follows through on the promise every single time), but here i just want to focus on the fact that the only reason sasuke is lucky enough to receive this reassurance in the first place is because kakashi isn’t fooled by sasuke pretending he doesn’t need to hear it.  kakashi and the kids are very new to each other at this point, but even so, kakashi still understands sasuke better than any other adult in the hidden leaf.  he’s the first authority figure who sasuke hasn’t been able to trick into obliviousness - sasuke can’t pretend away his problems in front of someone who used to have all those same problems himself!  kakashi is too savvy to be waved away with the whole ‘i’m super advanced for my age i don’t need any help don’t look behind my mask’ charade.  kakashi invented that game.  he knows it’s one you don’t want to win.  he won it himself, when he played it, and winning just meant that everybody took him at his word when he acted like he was fine and nobody ever gave him the kind of help he needed.  he’s not going to let another kid get away with the same self-destructive shenanigans, not when he’s around to call their bluffs and be the kind of support structure he himself could’ve benefited from when he was younger.   

[billyspotato]

Could i possible request a jj imagine from that one scene where they trap the girls on the boat, and reader gets left with them, reader is dating jj, but they have really bad anxiety so she is upset with him when they go to pick the m up from the boat

Left Behind - JJ Maybank

Words: 1.6k+

Type: Angst & Fluff

Warnings: English is not my first language, sorry for any typos. Fear of the sea/being left in a boat.

A/N: Gif’s not mine :)

It’s been around 6 hours since JJ, John B and Pope left you, Sarah and Kie alone in a boat with no way back home.

You had agreed to making Sarah and Kie have a conversation and sort out their issues, but the idea of you being the one that has to be with them just to make sure they don’t kill each other... Now that’s some bullshit, but it was decided. Without you knowing a word of it.

And just to make matters worse, you have anxiety problems. Everyone knows this, especially your boyfriend, JJ.

And we all know that anxiety has the power to make a small issue or fear into a whole trauma-like experience.

But the motherfucker didn’t even think twice in leaving you in the boat.

It was just like you all had planned, everyone steps into the boat and then runs out but you were utterly pissed when noticing that they were escaping without even looking back at you.

Oh and the way they all laughed... Anger boiled your blood.

You are definitely not okay with any of this.

Kie and Sarah have been talking on one side of the boat since you told them to, and you are sitting in the other side, leaving them to have their privacy.

And now, your mind is at 500 miles an hour, since anxiety has gotten a way with it - thinking of all the possible horrible endings this evening could have.

You couldn’t swim back to the island, you couldn’t row this kind of boat back home, and also can’t call for help, if anything bad happens.

This is just a disaster waiting to occur. And your mind is hating it. Your hands are slightly sweaty, heart is pumping rapidly, breathing seems difficult and seeing the skies become dark is just making everything worse.

You’re not a boat kind of person. You like the idea of being in one but not for too long.

And these 6 hours... are long enough for anyone to pull up next to this boat and try to steal something, kidnap you or even, I don’t you, something worse.

Outer banks is safe, yes, but anybody who has seen any crime documentaries knows that even the safest towns in the world have god damn someone that fucks it all up. It can even be an outsider.

But that, in a strange way, is not what is worrying you the most.

And anybody with anxiety will understand when you say that you don’t exactly know what’s bothering you but it god damn is fucking you up inside.

You just have to find out now to try to fix it.

“You okay?” Sarah asks, making you look away from the water and look up at her.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about what else I could be doing if it weren’t for this situation” You comment in a low tone as she takes a seat next to you. “Have you and Kie talked it all through?”

“Yeah, I guess we’re friends again”

You smile a bit at her and she leans her head on your shoulder.

“How long do you think we’re going to be in here for?” She asks in a whisper and you sigh, tears filling your eyes, but you blink them away.

“For a few more hours”

(...)

It’s been some hours, and the girls have noticed that something is off about you ever since Kie took a seat next to you, just like Sarah. And they haven’t left your side ever since.

You had told them that it was just your anxiety and they tried their best to make you feel better.

Sarah tried to play a game and Kie tried to tell a story, anything to distract your mind.

It had worked, in some way. But only for a few minutes.

You even cried a little when they asked you to tell them what’s wrong. Mostly out of frustration, you did not mean to cry.

As you shared your frustrations with the girls and tears ended up rolling down your face, they both hugged you close to them, trying to comfort you not only with their affection but with their words as well, as they said: “we got you” and “we won’t ever let anything happen to you”.

As the three of you stared into the dark sky, looking at the stars, you hear a motor of a boat.

“They’re here” Sarah whispers to you and Kie.

The sound of the motor of the boat gets closer and pure anger just boiled in your veins. Mainly towards JJ over any other of the guys.

You three get up from the front of the boat and walk over to the John B’s boat, now floating right next to yours, at the back.

“How did it go?” Pope asks but none of you answers.

Sarah steps in the boat with John B’s help and when he did the same thing to you, JJ also tried to help, which you just ignored.

He leaves his hand in the air as you took John B’s hand for help and then quickly taking a seat next to Sarah, who already sat down comfortably in the smaller boat.

As Kiara goes sit next to Pope, JJ sits down with you.

“So, how did it go?” John B repeats Pope’s words and Sarah looks up from her hands to him.

“Amazing” She answers sarcastically.

You ignore their conversation as John B starts taking all of you back to the island and you finally feel your body starting to relax.

“Hey. You okay?” JJ asks you and you look at him with a serious expression, not even saying a word. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’”

You look away from him while rolling your eyes and stare into the water, in silence. And that lasted the whole way back to JB’s house.

You all got up in your feet and started to get off the boat. You, Kie and Sarah almost kissed the ground as your feet felt the dirt under your shoes.

As everyone decides to stay under the tree and watch the sky change colors, you decide to go in JB’s house and sit at the porch with a glass of water - as any other normal human being would do.

“Can we talk?” JJ asks from behind you as you grab a glass cup from the cabinet of the kitchen.

“Depends on what you want to say”

“You’re mad at me-“

“No shit” You interrupt while filling the cup with water.

“Is it because we left you in the boat with them?”

“What do you think?” You ask with the driest of tones.

“We didn’t mean to make you upset, we just thought it was fu-”

“You know that I’m scared of the water, and you still fucking left me there, JJ. That. Is. Not. Funny”

“I honestly didn’t know you were that scared”

“Well, you could’ve at least taken a guess” You spit the words and he looks at you with a softer expression now.

You two stay silent for a few seconds and don’t try to meet each other’s gaze. JJ doesn’t really know what to say to you. 

He wants to make things right, but he just doesn’t know how.

He takes a few steps forward to get closer to you and you look up from the floor at him.

“I’m sorry” He starts, “I really didn’t know you were that scared of water. Really. If I knew, I would never let the guys even think of doing something close to that”

You stay silent.

“I don’t know what I can do to make you forgive me. What I did was fucked up and I didn’t even acknowledge it until now” 

Kie’s laughter from outside fills the air but it doesn’t stop the boy standing next to you.

“Will you ever forgive me?”

Well that took a dramatic turn, You thought.

You look back at him with a serious expression and he almost flinches at the sight of it.

“Of course I’m going to forgive you, ass hat” You say and relief reaches his face, “Just not now”

“What can I do to make you forgive me faster?”

You start to think for a second and JJ starts naming actions.

“What about cleaning your room? Not that I’m saying that it’s dirty, I just can do that for you, you know? And, taking you out for ice cream? Maybe bake you a cake?”

“JJ, you don’t know how to bake”

“I can learn. I’m sure that there’s millions of videos on easy cake recipes”

You look away as you fight a smile over JJ’s desperation and that slightly relaxes the boy, who is internally freaking the heck out.

“You have a lot of baking to do” You say and a huge smile grows on the blonde boy as he wraps his arms around you as a celebration. “Like, a lot”

JJ lets you go and looks down at you.

“I don’t care, I’ll work hard enough” He says, “What do you want? A cake with like 5 layers? Cupcakes with hearts made out of that pink shit? Maybe, cinnamon rolls?”

You laugh at his ideas and choice of words and JJ can’t help but smile as well.

“I’m not kidding, you might need to start listing what you want now. I’m a hard worker but I don’t have the time-stopping power so I can work 7 hours in 1″ He says with his smile as you continue to laugh, “Pick pick woman, I need to work”

- - - - - - -

🌸✨Sorry, but I’m not writing in this account anymore. Go check out my new one @twinklelilstarkey ✨🌸

[writefightandflightclub]

Two steps back: chapter one

**NEW SERIES (1/9 parts)**

Series summary: this series spans decades in Poe and readers’ lives, with snapshots of moments based around the following themes.

Four times Poe said he’d stay with you.

Four times he tried to leave you behind.

One time you made it work.  

Chapter Summary: (STAY:ONE) you and Poe are young kids on Yavin 4. He promises to stay with you, but you know his heart is set on the stars.

GIF: by @logan-solo​

Author’s note: OOPS I started a new series. Expect angst, pining, slow burn, + a lil fluff. The 9 parts are sketched out already so these chapters should all be shortish snippets (shorter than this one!), and I don’t intend for this to interfere with my ongoing series Violent Delights. I also hope to keep requests + one-shots progressing at some kinda rate.

This is quite different to anything else I’ve tried before. Also, this is my first time having a go at Poe’s backstory! How’d I do with chapter one? Please let me know! And, let me know if you want to see this continued!

Word count: 2.1k

Most afternoons, when you were a kid back on Yavin 4, you climbed this purple-barked massassi tree with Poe. Perching together on the usual, overhanging branch, your necks would be craned, his eyes fixed up at the sky to study the A-Wings performing their drills and manoeuvres beyond the canopy. Sometimes, you’d split a wrapped punnet of koyo fruit, sharing it with the family of woolamanders which dwelled there to appease their jibber-jabbering. You would swing your feet, nothing but air beneath them for some distance, your heart almost in your mouth at the feeling of being so high off the ground.

Of course, Poe loved being up high; closer to the sky. He loved watching the ships, even then. He risked the climb, risked being attacked by swarms of carnivorous stintarils, just to get a view through the clearing in the trees of the ships rolling and ducking and diving in the sky. It made him happy; made him come alive. So, you always let him drag you through the dense jungle with him. You were his best friend, after all. Had always been his best friend. Where else would you be but by his side anyways?

Besides, Poe needed you. He got lost whenever he tried to go it alone. Your Mama frequently said, with fondness, that Poe looked at the sky so much he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. He was oblivious to the markings and signs that would give him direction and lead him home. You, on the other hand - you knew this shifting jungle well. Young as you were, you knew the sounds and thrum of it like you knew your heartbeat. Poe was driven by an engine. He was impulsive, full of momentum and metal and fight, always searching for something just beyond his horizon. You, however, were filled with a steady, coursing river, at times tranquil and at times forceful, but always entrenching your path through known terrain. You were always content with deepening your understanding of what was right in front of you.

You were different to one another, but that’s what made you best friends, perhaps. Or, maybe, it was simply owing to the fact that your families were neighbours. Or, maybe, the war can make friends out of anyone, because they all have the trauma in common. Whatever it was, you’d always come out here together. Ever since you could remember. The only thing which changed year-on-year was how high he dared climb in the tree. Each year he reached higher and higher, as did his lofty ambitions. 

When the A-wings came in for landing they’d pass low, right overhead. The branches would shake, the leaves would become frenzied and Poe would become alive with it, the blast of air whipping his dark, erratic curls about his face – at least those which didn’t yet cling to his forehead, damp with humidity. The rumble of the engines as they zipped overhead seemingly powered that half-toothless grin which always followed. You’d always impart a sharp shriek as the branches wavered, worried about falling out, so Poe had formed the habit of wrapping his little arms around you, hands sticky with koyo juice, and keeping hold of you until, one-by-one, the entire fleet had passed above you. That way, if you fell out of the tree, he’d fall too. In kid logic it made perfect sense to you both.

The war made enough sense to you too, even then. You knew that it was dangerous and sad and unavoidable, and that a lot of people never came back from it. You also knew -in words you didn’t have yet, perhaps- that the boy next to you was destined for the stars. That he ran like an A-Wing; he needed fuel and flight to survive, the pulse in his veins was warm and constant and thrumming like an engine. He desired motion. The war made you afraid, and, often, you got that same feeling whenever he’d talk with glee about becoming the best pilot in the whole galaxy. But you never told him it made you afraid. Never voiced it. You never did have the heart to wipe that smile off his face.

The one time you begged him to stay with you, it was after you had slipped down from the tree on your descent, falling a short distance to the jungle floor. Your knee, grazed against an exposed root upon landing, stung with pain. You didn’t cry, being the tough little koyo nut you were, but when you looked down and saw red you exclaimed dramatically that you’d never be able to walk home, and that you’d be left in the jungle alone to die and be devoured by stintarils.

Poe clambered quickly and more adeptly down after you, crouching by your side, pressing his hand on to your leg to stem the bleeding. The koyo juice was acidic and stung you even more. “D- don’t leave me alone in the juuunnngle” you had wailed, part-concerned about the stintarils, yet perhaps also feeling fresh with the grief you’d unwittingly absorbed from the grown-ups after the last mission’s fleet returned depleted. Perhaps dwelling a little on Poe’s unrelenting keenness to fly away from you at the soonest opportunity.

“I’ll stay with you all night and help you fight them away.” he says earnestly, his brown eyes steady and determined as he meets the tears brewing in the corner of yours.

“Y- you will? You’ll stay with me?”

He pats your hair with his grubby, sticky hands and comforts you in all the ways he has learned to comfort someone so far. “Yep. You’re my best friend and I love you. I’ll stay by your side for always. I’ll protect you and I’ll love you until all of the stars go out.” At that, your expression sours, and fresh tears form in your eyes, a wail emanating from you. “Does it really hurt so bad?” Poe asks with concern.

Poe is bewildered as you stand with ease, seemingly free of pain despite your continued tears. He reaches out to support you and you push him back with a firm palm to the centre of his chest. “Go away, Poe.” you bite off, before turning to race back through the jungle, hair and tears whipping behind you. You leave Poe in the dust. He might be destined for the sky but you are at home on the ground, and you pick through the dense undergrowth with ease, your footing sure. You pause once you clear the tree-line, throwing a glance behind you to make sure he’s following you out. You might be upset but you would always make sure he found his way home safe. Always.

Once you’re sure he’s safe, you pelt back to the house and throw the door open, where your mother startles in her seat at seeing your tear and snot-ridden face emerge through the doorway. “Mama. P-Poe said he’ll love me until all the stars go out.” you announce through sobs, and before she can react you’ve buried your face into her skirts. Seamlessly, she downs the dismantled blaster parts she was working with and bundles you on to her lap.

“You have to help me understand why that’s a bad thing, darling.” Your mother probes in a confused tone, producing a cloth from her pocket and wiping your wet cheeks and nose.

“H-he’ll only love me until the stars go out. But I wanna be h-his best friend for always.” You explain through your waves of tears.

Your mother’s chest shakes with a kind exhale of laughter and relief. “Honey bean.” she soothes, pushing your hair back from your wet face and clutching your little face in her hands. “Until all the stars go out? That means forever.”

Your tears stop almost instantaneously as if a switch has flicked, even though your bottom lip continues to tremble. “It does?”

“It does. Baby, the stars will never go out.” Your mother fights to suppress a good-natured chuckle over just how upset this adorable misunderstanding has caused you to be. Still, she feels for you, as she knows that you love that little boy with an umatched ferocity you nor she can begin to fully comprehend. So, she tugs you into her chest for a warm, surrounding hug.

“B-but he’s going to fly away. And. Not e-everyone who flies away comes back.” Your mother’s grip on you tightens, and she stills for a moment with her arms around you. However, by the time you’ve tipped your head up to look up at her, searching for reassurance, a soft smile graces her features, the sadness and guilt in her eyes expertly smoothed over. Still, she feels she should have done a better job at hiding the pain from you. And, oh, how she wishes she could protect you from it.

“My sweet little koyo nut.” she coos. “Our dear Poe is always going to find some way to come back to you. Isn’t he going to be the best pilot in the whole galaxy?” You nod as if you’ve accepted his dream verbatim, and finally seem content at that. All of your sadness is forgotten so quickly, as if it never even happened. After years of the heaviness of war, how your mother wishes she could learn the same trick.  “So,” she begins, injecting a veneer of happiness into her tone. “Do you want to help me clean these blaster pieces? Do you remember how they fit together?” She walked a thin line of shielding you from the war and arming you with enough tools to be able to survive it.

“I can do it, Mama.” you enthuse, rolling up your sleeves and diving into the task, wriggling on your mother’s lap until you are in prime position to reach across the table top.

Before too long, there is a soft knock on the door. Your mother pats your butt until you hop off of her, and clicks the door open to reveal Poe clinging bashfully to his father’s leg. “Package for the little miss.” Kes calls through the house. “Delivery of one upset little boy.” Kes’ eyes are apologetic as a wash of confusion makes its way over your mother’s face.

“Oh no. Him too?” your mother returns Kes’ apologetic look.

Kes ruffles Poe’s thick, black curls and leans in to offer a whispered explanation. “All I can gather is, he was told to ‘go away’.” He shrugs softly. “Not a clue. Figured I’d be better bringing him on over to work things out for himself.”

“Honey bean, we have a guest.” Your mother announces pointedly, giving you a stern but loving prod with her eyes to indicate you ought to join her. You shuffle bashfully over to your Mama, your hand also winding around her leg for security.

Poe’s big, apprehensive brown eyes peer at you from beneath fronds of his mussed curls, cheeks tear-stained. “Why’d you tell me to go away?” he asks, his voice tiny, taking matters into his own hands like his father suggested.

Tentatively, you look up at your Mama, whose hand presses to your back and guides you forward towards the boy. “I’m sorry, Poe. I don’t want you to go away ever. You’re my best friend.” You reach out for Poe’s hand to initiate your secret handshake. The rules are the secret handshake can’t be denied. Poe reaches back and completes the secret signal, giving you a silly, cherubic grin in conclusion, all his sadness forgotten. “Wanna help me clean blasters? Then maybe Kes can teach us to shoot?” You look up at the man hopefully, having begged him practically every time you’ve seen him for instruction.

“Show me that you can put one together in five second and we’ll talk, kiddo, you know our deal.” Kes bargains. His negotiations had you becoming pretty adept at weapons assembly, if he did say so himself.

You nod determinedly and drag Poe over to the table. You quickly become engrossed in the task and don’t notice your respective parents huddled in the doorway, at first, speaking to one another in hushed tones. Still, you’ve learned by now to suss out what it all means. It’s only ever one of two things. Either something bad has happened, or something bad is coming. This is the cycle of war, which encroaches on your lives a little further every day, no matter what they do to protect you or prepare you for it.

For now, at least you and Poe have each other. Even if it’s becoming obvious that your paths, and your roles in this war, are diverging even faster than you seem to be growing up. For now, maybe you simply choose to believe that he’ll stay with you for always.

READ PART TWO HERE

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[emo-space-tea]

~The Sorting Hat~

NOT MY GIF

Chapter 6

~3rd Person POV, Year 1~

When the train had come to a stop, the sun had already set.  They had immediately come across a rather large man, at least 8 ft tall, shouting for the first years to follow him. The man had led the children to a small group of boats. The twins and Hermione were lucky enough to share a boat, but Neville had to go to a separate one.

Once all the first years were in the boats, they started going in the direction of the school. Up ahead the students could clearly see the beautiful school, many of the pointed and chatted away. The twins were quietly talking about the things they couldn’t wait to see, the great hall, the green house, the quidditch pitch. All the places their mum and dad adored when they went to Hogwarts.

They eventually got to the school where the tall man, Hagrid, told them to go up a set of stairs. The twins, Ron, Hermione, and Harry were in the front when they saw a woman wearing green robes and a large hat, patiently waiting. The twins knew who the woman was, she was Professor McGonagall, one of their mother’s favorite professor.

“Welcome to Hogwarts!” McGonagall announced, once the students came to a stop.

“Now in a few moments you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses.” The professor informed.

 “There are Gryffindor,”  Both Ron and Harry look a bit confused. 

“Hufflepuff,” Elaine and Elijah slightly smiled at each other.

“Ravenclaw,” A small smile appeared on a Hispanic looking boy’s face.

 “and Slytherin.” McGonagall finished with some spite in her voice, while Draco looked back at Crabbe and Goyle with a smile and a nod.

“While you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points, any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will earn the house cup.” McGonagall explained, but while she was talking, she was overlapping a toad croaking. 

“Trevor!” Neville interrupted, rushing to grab his toad, while some students behind him laughed.

Neville looked up to see a shocked Professor McGonagall, he stood up before mumbling, “Sorry” and going back to his spot.

“The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily.” McGonagall finished, slightly eyeing Neville before walking away.

“It’s true then,” A boy spoke out, catching most of the students attention.

“What they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.” The boy finished, causing most of the students to gasp.

“This is Crabbe and Goyle,” The platinum blond haired boy informed.

“And I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy.” Draco finished with a smile, walking in front of Harry.

Ron let out a small laugh, causing Draco’s head to snap towards him.

“Think my name’s funny. Do you?” Draco asked, annoyed.

“No need to ask you yours. Red hair and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley” The grey eyed boy determined, slightly glaring at Ron, before returning his attention to Harry.

“You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t wanna go making friends with the wrong sort.” Draco said, once again glaring at the redhead next to the boy who lived.

“I can help you there.” The platinum blond haired boy finished, sticking his hand out for Harry to shake.

Harry looked down at Draco’s hand before returning his attention to the boy’s face and saying, “I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks.”

Draco stood there for a moment confused, before McGonagall showed up behind him and tapped his shoulder with a rolled up piece of parchment, gaining the young boy’s attention. Draco then turned around and saw the Professor, before turning back and going to his original spot, not before giving Harry a small glare.

“We’re ready for you now, follow me.”  McGonagall informed, before leading the first years to the great hall.

The first years entered the hall and immediately were met with the eyes of hundreds of students watching them. Looking up at the ceiling you could see floating candles and the night sky with bright stars shining.

“It’s not real, the ceiling, it’s just bewitched to look like the night sky. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History” Hermione informed the Twins who were looking at it.

The group eventually got to the front of the hall when McGonagall spoke, “Wait along here please.” causing the first years to stop and line up.

“Now before we begin, Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.” McGonagall informed.

“There are a few start of term notices I wish to announce, The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also our caretaker, Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you, that the third floor corridor on the right hand side, is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.” Dumbledore informed, unphased, while most of the other students acknowledged this, Harry looked like he thought this school was crazy.

“When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses.”  McGonagall announced.

Small A/N: I know that technically speaking the twins would be one of the first ones to go up since their last names start with a B, but I’m changing it for dramatic effect, so don’t comment on it please. Also after Malfoy went up “Susan Bones” went so whatever.

“Hermione Granger.” The professor said.

Hermione took a deep breath before walking forward and mumbling to herself, “Oh no. Okay, relax.”

“Mental that one, I’m telling you.” Ron mumbled to Harry, before Elaine slightly hit his shoulder, shushing him before returning her attention to Hermione.

The frizzy haired girl sat down on the stool and the hat was placed on her, then the hat started talking, “Ah, Right then, Hmm, Right! Okay, Gryffindor!” The hat finished.

The table of Gryffindors erupted with applause, while Hermione jumped from the stool with a smile on her face.

“Draco Malfoy.” McGonagall called out.

The platinum blond haired boy made his way to the stool. The hat barely touched his head when it shouted, “Slytherin!”

The Slytherin table cheered while Ron leaned into Harry and whispered, “There’s not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin.”

“Hey! That’s not true! Our father was in Slytherin, and our Grandmother, and our Great Grandfather. None of them were dark wizards!” Elaine whispered back harshley.

“That’s different, your family also has Hufflepuff’s to make sure they wouldn’t turn bad.” Ron tried to defend himself, while the twins rolled their eyes in response.

While Ron and the Twins were arguing, Harry had spotted that a professor had been staring at him, then he felt a sharp pain right where his scar was.

“Harry, what is it?” Ron asked, seeing Harry hold his scar.

“Nothing, I’m fine.” Harry responded.

 McGonagall had called out “Susan Bones”, who had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Ronald Weasley.” McGonagall called out.

Ron made his way to the stool, incredibly nervous, and sat down. When the hat was placed on his head it spoke, “Ha! Another Wealsey, I know just what to do with you! Gryffindor!”

Ron sighed in relief, and went to go join his brothers, who were cheering at the Gryffindor table.

“Harry Potter.” The Professor said.

Everyone had begun whispering, making Harry more nervous, as he walked up to the stool and sat down.

The hat was placed on his head and spoke, “Hmm difficult, Very difficult, plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent, oh yes, and a thirst to prove yourself….But where to put you?”

Harry then began to mumble, “Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin.”

“Not Slytherin, aye?” The hat called out, slightly startling Harry,

“Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all here, in your head, and Slytherin will help you on your way to greatness! There’s no doubt about that! No?” The hat tried to reason with him but Harry kept mumbling, “Please. Please. Anything but Slytherin.”

“Are you sure? Better be, Gryffindor!” The hat announced.

All of Gryffindor table cheered, happy to share the same house as the boy who lived. 

“Samuel Moreno.” McGonagall called out, once the cheering had ended.

A boy with tan skin and dark hair made his way to the stool and sat down, the hat was placed on his head, “I see! Intelligent, plenty of creativity. Hmm, I know, Ravenclaw!”

The Ravenclaws cheered and welcomed the boy to the table.

“Elaine Brightheart.”  The Professor said, soon all of the great hall fell silent.

Elaine took a deep breath and heard her brother mumble, “You got this Ellie.”

The small blonde made her way to the stool, trying to ignore the gaze of everyone in the room. The hat was placed on her head, “Ah another Brightheart, let’s see. Hmm interesting, full of ambition and cunning, a bit of a trickster. Ah, but you are hardworking and patient….” The hat trailed off.

Elaine began to get nervous as the hat took his time, she glazed around the room to see The Weasleys, her brother, and Hermione staring at her with worried expressions. The freckled girl then turned her attention to Harry, who looked confused, but was mumbling something she couldn’t make out.

She didn’t know that Harry was mumbling, “Please don’t be Slytherin, Please don’t be Slytherin”

Then the freckled girl heard a small gasp front her right and heard Professor McGonagall mutter, “A hat stall.”

At this point almost everyone was at the edge of their seats, Was she gonna break the chain? Why is the hat taking so long? Which house will she be in? 

Those questions were swarming through her head, and she looked at her brother for reassurance. The twins make eye contact and Elijah mouthed the words, ‘Everything’s gonna be fine, We’ll always be together.’

Elaine smiles softly, before being startled by the hat speaking, “Ah! That’s what I was looking for, you have the Brain of Slytherin, but the heart of a Hufflepuff. Hmm, I know just where to put you, Hufflepuff!”

The twins let out a sigh of relief as the Hufflepuff and Slytherin tables cheered enthusiastically. Elaine jumped from the stool and threw her brother a quick smile before being welcomed and sitting at the yellow and black table. She sat down next to a boy with short brown hair, pale skin, and brown eyes.

“Hello, I’m Cedric Diggory, welcome to Hufflepuff.” The boy, Cedric, introduced himself.

“Nice to meet you Cedric, I’m happy to be here!” Elaine said with a smile.

Soon enough McGonagall called out, “Elijah Brightheart.” and the hall fell silent again.

The blond boy quickly went up the small stairs and sat on the stool, wanting to get the whole process over with, since he knew that it didn’t matter what house he’d be in, cause he’d have his family

The Hat didn’t even touch a hair on his head before it shouted, “Hufflepuff!”

Elijah smiled brightly and let out a small laugh before rushing to join his sister as the Yellow and Black and Green and Silver houses cheered. The freckled boy got to his sister and engulfed her in a hug, saying that he did say they’d always be together. The twins laughed before Elaine introduced Cedric to Elijah and the sorting ceremony continued.

*•~Emo-Gay-Tea~•*

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[bereaving]

You definitely don't need to apologize for that 😆 I do that too...

For me it's different cause I love the horror genre. Like not this random, boring clichee sort of horror but this really subtle and deep horror like in Hill House. I'm a huge fan of it. For me it wasn't really important what's it about, I just wanted to continue this anthology.  

A lot of people say that honestly 🤔 it's different when you watch Bly first and then Hill House. But they both have a lot of similarities and I love that. 

She is! And it's for sure that most of the time where people were going through a traumatic childhood, they turned out to be assholes. Like we have an example right next to Jamie on the same show - Peter. He went through that as a kid and he turned out to be abusive and toxic, mostly. So it's great to see that there's a different way to go with that or to deal with everything Jamie had to deal with as a kid and how she turned out to be as an adult.  

So yeah that's really nice to see that people aren't the way you first think they are by how they act, you just need to get to know them and we did after her fantastic speech. I can't tell you how often I watched that because its one of my favorite scenes in the whole season. She definitely is one of the most important characters on the show. It's also a beautiful reference to how a flower needs it time to bloom and so do people, like you said. 

I mean she's definitely holding herself back a bit, and she tries to wrap her flirting and overall conversations with Dani up with humor. I think that's a great way of showing someone you really care about them without being too forward. So yeah I agree with you on that she would make a move if she'd be completely sure that's it okay for Dani too. But she would definitely do it in a Jamie - like - way 😂 like acting all cool and being funny yk 

Dani is bold af 😆 like she has shown us that so many times and it is refreshing to see. Cause if I'm being honest I didn't think of her that way when I first saw her. I thought she's cute and all but when I first got to know her backstory a bit I immediately changed my mind. Also the scene she had with Henry at the bar was bold af, I'd  have never done that for sure 😅

And then everything that happens around her at Bly and with Jamie, no doubt at all. 

Haha I had to laugh when Jamie said "who the hell knew" 😂 that was awesome and also gave Dani a feeling of relief. That was the first time she expressed her feelings, her real feelings, to someone she likes so much and no one blamed her for that.

I guess you can see it both ways. I hated how they decided to end it, like they just gave us all and then in the end they took it all away 😪 just seeing how Dani sacrificed herself and then no one even remembered her and she just has no choice but going to Bly again and die there, it was so hard to watch and to accept. And there's Jamie,  alone, with just the memories of Dani and she keeps waiting for her to return till the end... that's just heartbreaking and I need to hold back myself from crying every time I even think about it. 

It is a masterpiece, no doubt, but I just wish they would let them finally be happy for the rest of their days.

Yeah that's the thing when you watch Bly first I guess 😅 I knew Victoria will be in season 2, too. So I wasn't as surprised about it, but the fact that she played Nell just makes it change a bit. She nails playing those characters with real struggles and she brings them to life in a way I've never seen anybody do it 💯 her microexpressions are so spot on, like I don't even know what to say about it. These two characters are stucked in my head too. Dani a bit more than Nell but that's just because it's so long ago when I watched Hill House. 

I mean definitely! I hope Amelia stays on the horror path that would be great for me 😂 also same here, I won't watch YOU I don't know why but it's probably the show in general seems to be not really my thing 😕 unfortunately I have to say...cause i don't get to see Victoria

I really hope they bring them both back to The Haunting Series, I'd love to see Amelia back there and Victoria too 👌 but I guess we have to wait a long time for that 

We goin’ under the cut again because this one is also long, my friend haha

A horror two-timer such as myself really doesn’t have any other opinion other than the ones I’ve seen: Bly is and feels more gothic, whereas Hill House is more... I guess classically horror. They are both fantastic, and tbh I had no idea this is what horror does. I’d never looked into horror as a way of expanding the story, and Mike and his team had done that beautifully with The Haunting. Hours after I’d published the ask it occurred to me that the answer was so engrossed with Dani and Jamie that I’d completely forgotten to write about Peter lol whoops. He and Jamie are really two opposites of the spectrum. And in episode 7, I get that the whole deal for that is to get a better insight into his background, and what shapes him and what made him the way that he is. I enjoyed it as a casual watcher, and I liked OJC’s portrayal of him, but to be completely honest, I left that episode with very little added empathy for him. I’ve seen people like him enough both in real life and in fictional portrayals. I know what it’s like to be in the presence of people like him, and it is not in any way pleasant. So yeah, Peter, as this post so eloquently put it, can choke.

Jamie on the other hand... 🥰 Have I mentioned I love her? Lemme just say it again, just because.

Re: “I’m so glad you stayed” scene: That whole tracking shot... ugh, it just gives me goosebumps. I have seen it more than once and every time I need the scene for GIFs or anything, I’d always watch from the moment Owen’s car drives away. These two smol wives own my heart and my soul, and I love them a lot a lot.

Re: the ending Completely understand where you’re coming from, and it’s not something that I can casually think about or even try to sit with without some sort of mental preparation -- like taking a deep breath before you go for a deep dive. It still hurts, I still get sad and cry about the way their story had to end. But, that being said, to me it doesn’t feel like a disservice to their journey. It wasn’t done just for the sake of dramatization, or to show any kind of... hidden morality message, or anything like that. There’s no agenda to the story, is maybe a more succinct way of putting it. Just like any other couples we would see on screen, it treats them with respect. I think we all wish, deep down inside, that they would be able to shake off The Lady and live their best lives, but... I don’t know. Personally, I don’t think it would’ve stayed or created this big of an impact if they were to just ride off into the sunset together. 

Another thing to add is how good Bly is at exaggerating and amplifying aspects of real life and making it to be an element of the story. Some people forget you, some people will always wait for you and want to be with you. Some things, you do without thinking and it becomes a habit. Sometimes you lose yourself. Sometimes you’re stuck in circumstances or places you don’t really want to be in, but have to due to obligations and responsibilities. Some places really do have a pull of their own. Sometimes people love wrong, and it consumes you. Sometimes people love right, and it saves you. Maybe that’s just me and my takeaway from it, though. Last time I said Bly has changed the course of my 2020, and by that I mean that it’s taught me to have feelings again, to re-examine things, to care. And I just... love this series. Sadness and all.

MOVING ON 😆 I bow to Victoria. Ari ( @camhowes ) was the one who encouraged me to watch Bly in the first place, and so naturally once I started Hill House I messaged her and said, “I can’t believe Dani and Nell are played by THE SAME ACTRESS???????????” My freak out over her is not over yet, and I am begging anyone to let her be in all the things. I’ll fucking watch it (again... other than You) The way Nell breaks my heart... One of my friends who’s been a long Hill House champ has repeatedly said to me that Theo is the most fascinating sibling, and while I agree to a certain extent... Nell has my heart.

When it comes to Netflix’s You... to be completely blunt, a story that is pitched as “stalker man show, he kills people” is just not gonna appeal to me in general. No offense to anyone but there are just too many men I do not give a squat about. I don’t know if my resolve with this show will change. There’s been a couple sets of Love Quinn that I’ve seen (when she goes to the market in a beanie, or when she’s cooking and baking and drinking wine, or when she apparently went full on revenge baking mode) that are intriguing and is chipping away at my resolve, but... yeah, for the moment, I’m staying away from that series.

And I’m just gonna put a thought out into the universe, that if Miss Amelia Eve is hiring anyone to help her with her dog-walking business, I am available and can start ASAP.

[remys-lucky-franc]

Sick - Queen of Thieves Fic : Nikolai x MC (Daisy)

Pretty fluffy - no bad language or nsfw - no trigger warnings

Shout out to my friends @ispookyloaf and @stopforamoment as this was a product of a silly idea on one of our fun chats 💕

Word Count ~2200 (couldn’t resist the sneezing cat gif 😂)

[[MORE]]

Remy scuttled out of Nikolai’s room with a frown and a worry-line stretching the length of his forehead. He rounded the corner to the kitchen as he ran into Daisy. She stepped back looking surprised as he exclaimed,

“Ma Cherie, you’re back!”

Daisy nodded,

“Yeah, glad to be home, was a long couple of days. Leon’s just bringing the rest of the stuff up from the car. Worth it though, think we have the mark’s movements down to a tee... Remy are you ok?”

Remy raked a hand through his thick hair and sighed dramatically,

“Non. When was the last time you talked to Niko?”

Daisy looked puzzled, concern creeping into her voice,

“We haven’t talked on the phone, but we sent some text messages yesterday... Is he ok? What’s going on?”

Remy shook his head, looking towards the heavens,

“Did he tell you he is... Unwell?”

Daisy’s eyes widened, as she stared towards the closed bedroom door,

“He’s ill?! What?! Since when?!”

Remy sighed again,

“Since yesterday. Daisy, it’s not pretty...”

Daisy raised an eyebrow, starting towards their room,

“Not pretty? What the hell’s happened to him?!”

Remy reached out, catching her arm to stop her,

“He’s in bed, congested, running a temperature! He can’t taste his food, he has a disgusting cough, a sweaty sheen-“

Daisy held up her free hand to stop Remy in his tracks,

“Wait. Remy? Are you trying to tell me that ‘Master of the Impossible’, Nikolai Stirling, has taken to his bed with ‘man flu’??”

Remy covered his face with his hands,

“Go! See for yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you...”

Vivienne breezed past, pursing her lips and commenting,

“Are you heading in there, darling? Good luck! I wouldn’t dare! He’s foul when he’s poorly, the only person who would brave going in there is Remy!”

Remy shrugged, a sad look flitting across his face,

“I take him his favourite soup...”

Daisy noticed his expression, but only barely, as she shook her head at both of them,

“You two are exaggerating! He can’t be that bad - plus he’ll be happy to see me!”

Vivienne waved a dismissive, if perfectly manicured, hand at Daisy,

“If you want some advice? Let him be, darling! He’ll emerge like a beautiful butterfly from his chrysalis in a few days time!”

Daisy tutted as she headed towards the door, Remy and Vivienne exchanged an awkward grimace as she gently knocked, edging it open, with a half-whisper,

“Nikolai?”

He turned to face her and Daisy tried to stop automatic recoil as she caught sight of him: Remy was not exaggerating!

“Solnishko, you’re back.” A faint smile crossed Nikolai’s face as he watched her step inside, his usually sparkling blue eyes heavy and puffy-looking as he pushed his way up into a seated position against the plush cushions, “Things went well?”

Daisy nodded as she made her way across the room, Elizabeth twining around her feet and meowing as she went, eventually Daisy perched on the edge of the bed and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Nikolai’s head,

“I’m more concerned about what’s going on here? When did you start to feel like this?”

Nikolai waved away her concern, voice irritable but somewhat dulled and nasal,

“I’m fine, I had a particularly late night last night, that’s all.”

He tossed the covers back, readying himself to stand, only for Daisy to flip them back across his lap,

“Ohhhh no you don’t. You never sleep? You’re sick.”

Nikolai opened his mouth to protest, starting a second attempt to get out of bed but erupting into a kink of coughing as Daisy grabbed for a box of tissues from the bedside table. She smoothed his dampened hair back from his forehead easing him back into the soft pillows by his shoulders,

“Kotik, you’re sick. You don’t have to prove anything to me, please will you just relax?”

Slumping backwards into the soft bedding as Daisy kept a gentle pressure on his arms, Nikolai let out a frustrated groan,

“I can’t be ‘sick’. This is quite inconvenient, there’s still so much to do for the- ACHHOOOO!! Urgh. For the heist.”

Daisy tucked the duvet around his shivering form, smoothing his hair as she told him firmly but kindly,

“The heist is already ahead of schedule, I know you like to feel indispensable, but there’s literally nothing at this stage that the rest of us can’t do to keep ticking over for a few days until you’re feeling back to normal. Just please, stay there, let me look after you? Please?”

Nikolai didn’t vocalise his answer, he simply closed his eyes and relaxed his aching head against her hand, feeling too poorly to argue any longer.

Daisy murmured, “You’re burning up, just, stay put...” heading into the bathroom and swiftly returning with a cool face cloth, pressing it to his head as Nikolai hummed in appreciation.

“Did you take any medicine?”

“I don’t like to.”

Daisy frowned,

“You’re going to take two paracetamols. They’ll stop all this shivering. You’ll feel better.”

“But-“

“Nikolai.”

Nikolai attempted a sigh, that turned into another bout of coughing as Daisy headed back towards the kitchen, she was sure there was a collection of over-the-counter medicines in one of the drawers. Remy raised an eyebrow from his seat at the breakfast bar as she entered,

“Well, how is he?”

Daisy nodded firmly,

“He’ll survive. He just needs to rest for a couple of days.”

She rummaged around, locating the paracetamol, and pouring a tall glass of iced water, “And I’m going to look after him til he’s back on his feet.”

Remy shrugged his shoulders, smiling at her,

“Of course you will. That’s what you do. You’re his partner now, what’s that expression, ‘in sickness and in health’...”

Daisy swatted at Remy’s arm as she headed back towards Nikolai’s room,

“Firstly, that’s not an expression, it’s a ‘wedding vow’, and secondly, I don’t think when those were written they were intended to cover the common cold, Remy.”

Ducking out of her reach, Remy smirked, calling after her,

“Bonne chance!”

—-

Handing Nikolai the pills and the glass of water, she watched to make sure he actually swallowed them, before heading to the bathroom and returning with a vial of essential oils. Nikolai looked at her curiously as she dripped a few droplets onto his pillow. She took a deep breath in, wafting her hand, encouraging him to do the same,

“It’s menthol. It’ll help you breath.”

“I can’t smell it.”

“You will, eventually. In the meantime, here.” She pushed her iPad into his lap, “We are going to binge on Netflix until you feel better. None of your high-brow stuff, Nik. We’re going to watch something that you don’t even have to concentrate on. Easy watching, total trash. No arguments.”

Nikolai pulled a face as Daisy reiterated while she climbed onto the bed snuggling into his side, “No arguments. I’m in charge of getting you better, ok?” He stroked her cheek offering her a half smile as she pulled up the Menu.

___

Three episodes into Daisy’s TV trash of choice, Nikolai, despite himself had become quite captivated. He could feel his eyelids getting heavier, but was fighting the urge to close them, because he didn’t want to miss the drama unfolding onscreen...

Daisy could see him getting more and more tired,

“How about I switch this off and you doze for a little bit? I won’t let you dream.”

Nikolai forced his eyes wide, blinking,

“I’m fine, put another episode on, I want to see what happens to- Dear god what is happening to me?! Am I delirious?! Maybe I do need to sleep.”

Daisy smiled as she fluffed the pillows around him, dimming the lights, and in a hushed voice, she began,

“Soooft kitty, waaarm kitty, little ball offfff-“

Within seconds Nikolai’s eyes were wide again and staring in confusion,

“What is the meaning of this?”

Daisy shrugged,

“I thought you might like it?”

Nikolai closed his eyes, a perplexed wrinkle appearing in his forehead as he settled back down,

“You’re a very strange woman sometimes.”

Daisy squeezed his fingers,

“I mean, I don’t have to sing to you?”

Nikolai murmured, his eyes still closed, voice with a warmer edge to it than before,

“I don’t think anyone has ever sang me a lullaby before. I suppose it’s not completely terrible.”

Daisy beamed as she snuggled back into her snuffly partner, closing her own eyes and stroking his chest lightly as she hummed the rest of the tune.

—-

Daisy jolted awake, she wasn’t sure quite how much later, but quickly exhaled a sigh of relief when she realised that Nikolai was in a peaceful, even if he was softly snoring, sleep: there were no thrashing movements or strained facial expressions. He must really have needed the time to rest and heal his tired body. She touched his forehead - he felt decidedly less clammy than he had before. Grinning she decided that the paracetamol must have worked. Gently she ran her fingers over his cheek , murmuring his name softly until he started to stir. She’d promised not to let him dream, so she shouldn’t leave him asleep too much longer...

A faint smile crossed Nikolai’s face as he looked up at her,

“May I have my tea?”

Daisy’s jaw dropped, horrified,

“No, Nikolai! You can’t have your tea?! You’re not drinking poison while you’re taking paracetamol?! Absolutely not.”

Nikolai started at her indignantly,

“You’re being ridiculous. Anytime Remy’s looked after me, he’s brought me my tea.”

Daisy scoffed, one brow arched,

“I don’t believe that for a second! How about I call Remy in here and ask him?”

Nikolai opened his mouth to retort, but knowing her was beat he simply muttered about how ridiculous the situation was instead.

Daisy rolled her eyes, trying to change the subject,

“Hey, how about I get some more of the soup you love? I’m sure Remy would have made a whole vat of it. It’s funny, you know? I would have sworn you didn’t like mushrooms?”

Nikolai froze as Daisy looked at him curiously, confused.

He eventually broke the silence,

“Daisy, please don’t tell him, but I don’t. I’ve never had the heart to tell him when he’s been so kind as to make the soup for me. Remy is the only person who’s ever looked after me when I’ve been ill. Even as a child, my mother would ‘shoo’ me if I were poorly. My father would always say it was a sign of weakness and tell me to show some mettle.”

Daisy felt like her heart would break as she looked at him; the expression on his face looked like he was holding himself together, bracing himself against an unkind blow, but at the same time wanting to share something important to him. She reached out squeezing his hand, nodding in encouragement for him to keep talking.

Giving her a tight-lipped smile Nikolai continued,

“Remy has such a good heart. When I was first poorly, he asked me what my mother would make for me, back at home. When I said ‘nothing’ he was appalled. That’s when he started to make me chicken and mushroom soup, because that’s what his grandmother would make for him whenever he was unwell. I don’t like mushrooms, but I always finish the bowl.”

Daisy picked his hand up, kissing his knuckles,

“Even though you don’t like the taste it makes you feel better?”

Nikolai gave her a half-laugh,

“Exactly. Strange isn’t it?”

Daisy shrugged,

“Not so much. It’s not about the food, it’s about the feelings. That’s why they call it comfort food I guess? Do you want me to go get him to bring you some?”

Nikolai’s cheeks flushed as he nodded.

Daisy quickly smoothed his hair as she headed back to the kitchen,

“Remy?“

Remy lifted his head from a glossy magazine,

“How is the patient?”

Daisy, understanding that Remy had been looking after Nikolai for many years before either of them knew she existed, suspected that sharing the soup might warm Remy’s heart as much as being cared about warmed Nikolai’s,

“He’s ok. But I really think he needs another portion of chicken and mushroom?” She watched intently as Remy’s big green eyes lit up, grinning, “Maybe you could even teach me to make it some time?”

Remy enthused about his grandmother’s recipe as he busied around the kitchen of the penthouse heating a bowl for Nikolai, telling her the perfect type of mushrooms, which oil was best, how long to prepare the stock...

Daisy nodded as she repeated instructions and asked about ingredients, finally stopping and sighing,

“You’ve been making this so long, it could take years for mine to be as good as yours-“

Remy cut in, a look in his eye that said he knew exactly what she was doing, but choosing not to call her on it,

“Ma cherie, I’ll be here to help you! We can make it together! Or I can make the soup and you can snuggle with him until he feels better?”

Daisy beamed as she extended her right hand for Remy to shake on it,

“Deal! We’ll take care of him together. ”

Remy ushered Daisy back in the direction of Nikolai’s room as he placed the soup and a spoon on a tray, following closely behind her.

[sad-af1121]

Oh Baby Baby (One-shot)

Summary: You were having a hard time balancing work, home life, and a baby, causing you severe exhaustion so Bucky decides to look after the baby. Everything starts off smooth, but babies aren’t that easy to handle.  Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: fluuuuff, language, cutenessss  A/N:  Hey lovelies! It feels great to be writing again! I am a bit slow rn bc I have to get back to the swing of things, but rest assured I hope to be writing more content (which I do have planned :’) With that said, please enjoy!! And a BIG thank you to @colonelconfusion​ for looking over this. Feedback is welcomed 💜 | Not my gif

Whoever told you postpartum fatigue was all in your head was a fucking liar. Ten rigorous hours of labor then having to endure delivery made you extremely exhausted and lifeless. The baby blues were at their peak but you made a priority to work with your new lifestyle than to struggle. The first two months of being a new mother were rough; you constantly made sure not to mess up with anything, especially now since you were taking care of a small human that you and Bucky created. Obviously, you two were aware that you learn as you go, but everything was just overwhelming for both of you. It felt like Bucky and you were either nursing, changing, or bouncing your baby girl to sleep every hour- a never-ending loop of parenthood. Don’t get it wrong though, every moment spent with your newborn was exciting and full of surprises. Bucky was smitten the first time he laid his eyes on her and vowed to keep her happy and loved- the same was true with the rest of her family, aka the Avengers. 

Six months have passed now and things are slowly becoming second nature to you both. But coming back to work has taken its toll and exhaustion pulls your eyes closed whenever you are enjoying the peace of holding your child. You’d shake and stretch your limbs from feeling the fatigue all over again. Whenever the case got bad, Bucky would step in and take care of little Rosie so that you can get a few peaceful hours of rest. Calling it like a game of tag-teaming, punching your card in when you were ready, and punching it back out when you desperately needed a break.  

“You sure, Buck? I can wait another hour if you want to watch your game,” you said, feeling the guilt residing in your stomach. But the deep grey bags under your eyes and slouched posture were enough evidence for Bucky to see how badly you needed rest. 

“Yes, I’m positive. Rosie’s fed, changed and about to knock out- thanks to the boob,” he smirked, earning a huff of laughter from you. “I’ll have time to watch it on the DVR and catch up with the boys through texts. It's a win-win situation, babe” he assured, leaning in to place a soft kiss to your forehead. 

A wave of relief washed over you, a deep sigh of content releasing afterward. “Fine. But wake me up in two hours, Bucky. Don’t let me oversleep. I’ve gotta make dinner and do the laundry too,” you emphasized. The stress was beginning to come back, making your palms sweat and your fatigue to deepen.

“Oh... kay, time to sleep,” he urged, carefully pushing you into your room. Pulling the covers back, you slid underneath the blanket and snuggled against Bucky’s pillow, rubbing the side of your face into the cloud-like object before slowly wandering to sleep. After checking to see if you had fallen asleep, Bucky quietly tip-toed out of the room, closing the door just slightly behind him. 

“Phew,” Bucky breathed, looking down at his daughter who also managed to fall asleep in his arms. “Hmm, that was easy.” 

About 45 minutes later, Bucky’s laid back in his chair with a bottle of beer in one hand and his phone in the other. He was able to sync the tv sound to his headphones so that there weren’t any loud sounds around the house that’d wake up his girls. And trust it, that was the last thing he wanted. 

“Oh, eat my shorts, Parker!” He harshly whispered, sending a spider and shoe emoji to Peter in their group text. Unfortunately, Bucky’s team was behind a couple points, nothing too major for a loss, but enough for Clint, Peter, and Tony to make fun of. 

Without realizing it, Bucky was loud enough for Rosie to hear and she woke up whimpering and upset. Her small wails were heard through the baby monitor and Bucky quickly paused the television and stilled. He grabbed the monitor and waited, hearing complete silence which resulted in his belief that she fell back to sleep. However, as he’s about to press play, Rosie lets out a loud cry, the sound echoing not only in her nursery but into the living room, too.

“Shit, shit.”

As if wild ducks were chasing him, Bucky rushed to the crib and carefully picked her up. “Daddy’s here, Rosie. Shhh, let's not cry that loud huh? See, I’m right here, baby girl,” he cooed softly, hoping the combination of bouncing her and talking would ease the crying. But it only made it worse. 

Bucky was in full panic mode at this point. 

No matter what he did, Rosie refused to stop. He tried feeding her, gave her a clean diaper, even played baby mozart- yet it wasn’t enough. Nothing was working. Copious amount of sweat began to build up everywhere as Bucky felt the pressure and panicked.

“Rosie, please for your old man’s sake, please stop crying,” Bucky whined, rubbing small circles on her back before taking a seat on the rocking chair. Right as he was about to lose hope and wake you up, he does the only and last thing he can think of at the moment; he started to fake cry like his baby. 

With Rosie in his lap, he brought her face to face and continued to fake cry with her. “Please stop. C’mon buddy, your mama’s gonna kill me.”

As Bucky bawled dramatically, his facial features twist and turn into ugly expressions that capture Rosie’s attention. She quiets down as her tear-stained cheeks mold upwards to a grin before she erupts into giggles, throwing her hands together in happiness. Snapping his eyes open, Bucky chuckled breathlessly in relief, shaking his head with disbelief. 

“I’m glad to know you find amusement in my death,” He smirked, blowing a strand of hair out from his face. Rosie cooes for a bit then snuggles in Bucky’s chest, grabbing a fist full of his shirt. He doesn’t pull her away because he soon notices she’s dozing off to sleep. 

After all that, Bucky realized the baby just wanted his attention.

“God, she’s truly your daughter,” you said, leaning against the door frame. You nearly gave Bucky a heart attack, causing him to jump at your voice. 

“Rude.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk threatening to spread across your face, “Crying and whining when she wants attention? Definitely you, Barnes.” You said a matter of factly. 

He pursed his lips and nodded, “I’m assuming you're ready to tag in now?” For your amusement, you grab a stuffed penguin from Rosie’s toy shelf and chuck it at Bucky’s head. 

Biting his lip, Bucky nods and turns to look at you, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

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[calif0rnia-lovers]

fake it ‘till you make it

chapter 1: you were mine first. 

summary: a trip down memory lane as Tre returns home to find his best friend dealing with the fallout of her divorce proceedings.

a/n: this chapter is really long. it’s essentially full of backstory. i didn’t want to post each part as its own chapter bc that would end us up with four short chapters. so...prepare for time jumps. kinda wanted to get the backstory out the way so that i can get into the good stuff. let me know what you think. i know it’s a reader fic but i just think aja naomi is so pretty that’s why you see her face :)

if there are typos bare with me. I forced myself to stop making changes and just posted it. songs are linked because i’m hella dramatic and moody when i write.

words. 8,960

2006: junior year in high school. (gif).

You say we're just friends but I swear when nobody's around You keep my hand around your neck, we connect

You're seated, alone, in the corner booth at Happy's Diner. The AP Calculus book and notes spread out across the table are the perfect repellants for teenage boys hoping to "keep you company" until your friend arrives.

Your friend who just so happens to be running extremely late. Halfway done with your second glass of soda kind of late.

Trevante comes strolling into the diner, pausing long enough to say hi to Happy before heading in your direction. Climbing over the booth, he slides in next to you.

"Sorry I'm late," he huffs as he settles in next to the window.

His arm drapes over your shoulder, as he reaches forward to drag your plate towards him. Keeping your focus on the problem you're solving, you blindly lift his left arm, turning it so that you can see the face of his watch.

"You are forty-eight minutes late." You shove his arm off your shoulder, it finding its place back to your shoulder instantly. "Why do you wear a watch if you don't know how to use it?"

"Why buy me a watch for my birthday if you know I can't use it?"

Trevante narrowly avoids the slap you send towards his hand, stealing a french fry and popping it into his mouth.

His neck rolls, a groan escaping his lips as you move the plate out of his reach.

"Come on, Y/N. I can't have any-"

"No. You can tell me where you were. What was so important you left me waiting for forty-eight minutes? I already ordered the dinner you promised me."

"You clocking me now?" His brow arches as he drags the plate across the table.

"When it affects me? Yes. Yes, I am."

Trevante lightly shrugs his shoulder before retrieving the ketchup. The fact he doesn't want to tell you causes you to lift his arm from over your shoulder.

Resting his arms against the table, he silently busies himself with cleaning your plate.

"Why can't we study at your place?

Trevante watched as your shoulders rise and fall, your brow furrowing as you reach in your backpack. You're willing to acknowledge his question isn't that strange. From the fifth grade, the two of you have always studied at your house. Your dining room table has years worth of homework sessions. When you entered high school, your study sessions had migrated to your bedroom.

Trevante could usually be found sprawled across your bed; arm tucked behind his head as he lounged on your pillows. While you were found seated on the floor, books and notes displayed neatly around you.  You would kill to be back in your room right now. Both of your giggles mingling with the latest playlist Trevante has downloaded on his computer. However, ever since your last study session, that doesn't seem like a great idea.

Your mind is still trying to make sense of what exactly happened. You were slightly hopped up on coffee, the late-night study session keeping you and Trevante up well past your parents. Trevante...was wired by something else. What exactly? You're not sure. He'd arrived at your place, hours before, in a shitty mood but refused to tell you why. You'd initially thought it was because you'd rejected his invitation to attend William Prescott's party because you needed to study. Trevante had gone to the party before meeting you. Whatever happened at the party had stopped him from being a semi-decent study partner.

You were used to the textbook attempts of avoiding his work. The television, conversations about something he'd heard in the locker room, etc. What you weren't used to was his fingers toying with your hair, or brushing against your thighs. His lips brushing against your shoulder.

You'd nearly caused him to break his neck on the stairs with how fast you got him out of your house that night.

You grip your eyes closed for a brief moment, an all familiar heat spreading across your skin as he studies your face.

"It's just, my mom...she said something about us having an open-door policy and raging hormones, and it just...weirded me out?"

"Raging hormones," he scoffs, his attention focusing on the problem you're finishing up. "Your mom thinks we're having sex? We used to take baths together."

Erasing your mistake, you try again. You don't respond until you've finished the problem. Sliding the nearly completed homework assignment in Trevante's direction, you pick up your soda.

"I know, that's what I told her. She seems to think guys became sex-crazed when they turn sixteen."

"It's earlier than that," Trevante teases as he looks over the work.

It takes him a moment to realize the assignment is his not yours. He'd given you the completed homework during third period.

"Can you look this over?" He'd asked, hastily placing a kiss against your cheek before starting down the hall after William. "I'll make it up to you tonight. Dinner at Happy's at seven!"

You'd marked up most of the assignment in red while waiting for his arrival. The fact he'd attempted to do the homework without your help leading to you redoing it for him to soften the blow.

Releasing a sigh of relief, Trevante grins in your direction.

"You're so fucking smart, Y/N. It took me all last night to finish that."

You wince as his grip tugs against your shoulder, pulling your closer. His lips briefly press against your cheek. Your giggles fill the air as a second kiss follows.

"Stop," you giggle, lightly pushing against his cheek you watch him place a kiss against your palm before returning your focus on the math problem to his homework. "Don't think compliments will get me to finish your homework for you. You're finishing the rest. Right now. I'm only helping you make the corrections from now on. I only fixed it early because I can't be here until ten again."

Trevante's eyes roll as he accepts the pencil you offer him. "I've got plays to remember. I don't have time to ace AP Calc."

"And I have an entire European History essay to finish when I get home, so focus."

You spend the next thirty minutes helping Trevante finish working through his assignment. By the time you're finished explaining his mishap in the last problem, he's got a headache, and you're on your second plate of fries.

"You got that?"

"Yeah."

"Tre?" You wince at the sigh escaping his lips. "You don't sound too convincing. Do you need me to explain it again?"

You look up to find him watching you. His brow furrowed.

"What do you think of Prescott?" Trevante asks.

Your brow furrows as you concentrate on finishing the remainder of your shake.

"Prescott? As in William Prescott? The quarterback?"

"Yeah."

You attempt to read his expression, but whatever is on Trevante's mind, he isn't giving much away.

"He's...nice? I don't know, Tre," You laugh. "I don't know him. I mean, he's spoken to me maybe...three times. Each of those times is because I'm with you."

William Prescott was hard to ignore. Even if you weren't acquainted with him, it was impossible not to know who William was. His father was mayor, his mother, a member of the school board. Not to mention William was captain and quarterback of your school's football team. You share two classes with William. The fact you tend to sit in the front, and him in the back, making it difficult for him to talk to you. You can't even remember the last time he looked in your direction, let alone acknowledged you.

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna try and ask you out."

Your eyes roll as you uncap the highlighter in your hand.

"Right." You snort.

Concentrating on highlighting the formula before you, you glance up when you realize nothing else has been said.

"He asked me if you were seeing anyone," Trevante responds, his expression unreadable.

"And? What'd you tell him?" You ask the urgency in your voice, causing Trevante's eyes to roll.

He shrugs.

"I said not that I know of."

You let his words sink in, your brow furrowing. You're not sure what to say to that. If there was anyone who knew about what was going in your life, it was him.

"Okay..."

"I mean...I told him you weren't really looking for him. I figured he wasn't really your type. He's the quarterback, and you're..."

You wait for him to finish, but he doesn't.

"I guess you're the only exception to my newfound hatred for jocks?"

Lifting his arm, Trevante didn't bother responding as you gathered up your belongings before heading to the door.

two weeks later.

You keep your hands out before you. With your palms an inch away from the vent, you struggle to keep your entire body from trembling. Your dress is clinging to your wet body, the fabric's weight adding to the uncomfortable sensation on your skin. The air pumping through the ten-year-old jeep is a struggle on a good day. Paired with pouring rain on a chilly October night, it seemed the old vehicle wasn't going to be up to the task.

The rustling alongside you isn't enough for you to open your eyes, or move away from the slowly heating vents.

Trevante continues rustling through his gym bag. He is in search of an extra set of clothes. The spur of the moment thunderstorm that had erupted at the end of the game left everyone unprepared. You were in the stands, only really attending to cheer on your best friend, so you hadn't brought an extra pair of clothes. With the downpour, exiting the stands was a disaster. You didn't want to twist your ankle running down the slick foundation. By the time you made it through the gates of the field, you had to trek up the hill to the parking lot. You had struggled against the crowd to reach Trevante's jeep. By the time he'd met you in the parking lot, you were soaked to the bone.

After retrieving his shirt, Trevante grabs his letterman jacket for good measure.

"All right," he huffs as he tosses his duffle into the back. "This is all I've got."

Tugging the wet dress over your head, you toss it into the backseat before gladly accepting the longsleeved shirt.

The initial stripping off your clothes left Trevante frozen. In his haste, he hadn't considered the idea you might have to undress to get warm. His eyes had widened, his gaze instinctively drifting down your chest to the light pink bra you wore. He pauses to admire how the light fabric contrasts against your skin. You are too busy struggling to tug the shirt over your head to notice. Clearing his throat, Trevante shifts in his seat before focusing on adjusting the radio.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into coming," you mumble as you slip your arms through the sleeves of his shirt.

"You can use my jacket." Stealing a second glance in your direction, Trevante felt his shoulders relax once it became apparent you were decently covered. "It wasn't like you were doing anything anyway."

Shoving your arms through the sleeves of the jacket, you can't deny him a smile as a warmth passes over your body. The fabric is thick, capturing his scent. It feels as though its nearly twice your size.

"I was because, believe it or not; my world does not revolve around you, Rhodes."

"Right," he scoffs. "It's just boring when I'm not around."

Trevante glances apprehensively in your direction.

"So…" You wait for his sentence to be completed. When he doesn't speak, you glance across the car to find his thumb tapping against the steering wheel. "Will Prescott?"

A heat flushes over your skin at the mention of his name.

A light shrug rolls off your shoulder, your gaze diverting. "What about Will?"

"You're going out with him next week."

"Sounds like you already know the answer to that," you mumble.

The laugh that fills the car brings the heat to your face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Trevante shakes his head before shifting the car into reverse.

You reach forward pushing it back into park.

"No, hold up. What?"

He looks at you for a moment before releasing a deep breath.

"It's just...he's kind of a player."

"William Prescott, a player?" Now it's your turn to scoff. "He's the captain of the football team-"

"That should tell you-"

"Oh, so does that extend to you?"

Trevante smiles, motioning for you to finish your sentence.

"Besides, you didn't even let me finish. Will's the second smartest kid in our class, and I know that because I'm the smartest. He's the poster child of our town. You can't be a poster child, slutting it up without everyone knowing. I haven't seen him date anyone since freshman year."

"Yeah you're right...must just be locker room talk." Resting his head back against his seat, Trevante runs his hand over his face. "What'd you wanna ask me?"

Suddenly your motives for attending the game seemed stupid. You'd texted Tre before the game, asking if he could give you a ride home.

"I need a favor." Your text had read, followed by "A big one. However, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Ever."

"Depends on how many laws we break," he'd responded.

"It's…" Your voice tapers off as you concentrate on the working windshield wipers. "A terrible idea."

"A bad as you picking William Prescott over me?"

When his teasing isn't enough to make you smile, Trevante sits up.

"I'm not a cheerleader, Tre. I don't have guys lining up after me like girls do you. I don't want my first kiss to be with a guy I barely know."

"Look, Y/N, I was fucking around about Will. He's not that bad. Pretentious, but not a complete dick…" Trevante's eyes widen. "You want me to…"

Suddenly the idea sounds stupid, and you're backpedaling.

"It's just I mean, he's the quarterback. Also, I know guys talk and-can't you tell when someone's like inexperienced with that kind of stuff? I don't want that being the only thing he thinks about when he's kissing me-and then he goes back and tells everyone during "locker room talk." Next thing I know, the school newspaper will be publishing that I'm a virgin-"

"Whoa-chill," he chuckles, the smile on his face stopping you in your tracks. "Okay?"

You nod. Your gaze drops to your hands. You're almost sure the heat burning your cheeks is visible to him.

You reluctantly look at Trevante as his touch finds your chin.

His lips press against yours, pulling your eyes closed. It takes a moment for your body to respond. By the time your brain processes what is happening, his lips are gone. His eyes are on you.

"Relax, y/n." He chuckles, his tongue passing over his lips at the sight of the range of emotions flickering across your face. He gently brushes his thumb along the curve of your jaw. "I'm not looking to break your heart. It's just a kiss."

"Just a kiss. Right."

You nod, but the action only causes Trevante to laugh for a second time. He knows the wheels are churning in your head. That, just like every aspect in life, you are beginning to overthink.

"Relax."

"Easy for you to say, Cassanova. Besides I am-"

A squeal comes out mangled with a gasp as his hands find waist and he's pulling against you. He's lifting you into the passenger seat and resting you against his lap. Your hands find his shoulders, the urge to push some space between you the first thought that crosses your mind.

There isn't much space you can put between the two of you with the steering wheel behind you.

You blink. Meeting Trevante's gaze, you feel the pulse of your heart skyrocketed as his hands move from your waist to your lower back.

Sensing your tension, Trevante smiles softly.

"I'll let you take the lead. I know you're big on learning on your own."

Suddenly you're aware of your surroundings.

The smell of rain against your skin. The soap from his rushed shower. The tap of the rain against the window, and roof of the car. The feel of his jeans against your thighs. The sensation that rushes across your skin with each shift of his jeans against your skin when you move. The muscles of his shoulders beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. The slight spike of his heartbeat as your touch drifts to his chest. The rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath as he waits for you to kiss him.

Relax, Y/N. It's just a kiss.

When you blink, and your eyes lift to meet his, you find Trevante's gaze on yours. A tiny smile is on his lips, his head resting against the headrest. The sense of calm that seems to cover you from head to toe stems from the steadiness of his heart against your palm. His thumbs gently massage the outside of your thighs.

The sight of his growing smile causes one to spread across your lips in response. With a slight shake of your head, you place your hands along either side of his neck and lean in to kiss him.

His grip tightens around your waist, shifting your body forward so that you straddle him. Trevante's fingers are in your hair, keeping your lips pressed against his. The desire to feel as much of you as he can eliminate any remaining space between the two of you. Neither of you can keep track of who does what first. Who's tongue brushes against who's lips first, who's hands start to wander first, who's giggle melts into a groan as your hips shift instinctively against his.

Time seems to fall away as quickly as the rain.

His lips linger along the curve of your neck. The pain that had pulled a gasp of irritation from you, a few seconds prior, has been replaced by a much more addictive sensation. The kind that sends a shiver down your spine and digs your fingers into his shoulders. Your hips instinctively shift against his as the coolness of his breath fans the sensitive bruise forming against your skin. His lips press a kiss against the bruise, retracing their steps until they’re pressing against your lips suppressing your giggles.

The tap that echoes off the walls of the jeep causes you to jump. Your back pressed against the steering wheel, your heart skipping a beat as the horn fills the air. Trevante’s hands instinctively grip your waist, pulling you forward, steadying your body. He winces as your weight shifts, your hand pressing against his chest.

Through the damp window, you can make out a single figure. As if that isn’t enough to scare you, you realize the figure is surrounded by something much more frightening than a peeping Tom. The blending of red and blue lights flooding the car distorts the figure. A second tap, with the butt of the flashlight, against the glass follows.

“Don’t-” you catch Trevante’s wrist as he reaches to roll down the window.

“What? You think they’re gonna go away? We can’t exactly say we didn’t know they were there.”

The rain has stopped, leaving just the chilly October night air. You shiver against Trevante as he rolls the window down. There’s no point in climbing into the passenger seat, moving would only draw more attention to your current situation. Your face turns towards the passenger seat, Trevante’s hand lifting to shield his eyes as the flashlight floods the driver side.

Trevante blinks, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light residing on his face. His grip painfully tightens around your waist, his fingers attempting to send you a message, once he realizes who’s on the other end of the flashlight.

Your heart jumps into your throat as a man’s voice floats through the window.

“Game’s over Tre,” came a familiar voice. “You kids need to go ahead and clear out the lot. Take this somewhere else…Preferably with a condom, and off school grounds.”

Trevante nods quicker than intended. He clears his throat, his mind torn between focusing on hiding the fact you were half-naked in his lap and wrapping up the conversation so that he could roll up the window.

“Yes, sir.” He stammers, his weak smile arching the cop’s brow. “We’re – uh, we were actually getting ready to go grab some food. Kinda just lost track of time. But uh – we’ll go now. Sorry for the trouble.”

Trevante moves to roll up the window, but pauses as the officer rest his hand against the door. Cutting off the flashlight, he reaches in to clap Trevante on the shoulder.

“That was one hell of a game, kid” the cop whistled. “You’ve got some speed, son. Those boys from Eastside didn’t know what to do with yo-”

You grip your eyes shut as your father’s words come to an abrupt halt. His gaze lingers on the backseat, Tre’s eyes drifting shut once he remembers what’s in the back. Discarded in haste, your dress rested on top of his gym bag. The same dress your father had zipped for you this morning before you gave him a kiss and ran to catch the bus. You don’t have to turn and face to him to know that your dad’s shooting daggers into Trevante.

A shiver runs through your body as the door is yanked open flooding the jeep with the night air.

Pain shoots through your arm.

You wince as your dad’s grip tightens as he tugs you out the car. Your stomach flutters as nearly fall face forward towards the ground. Your dad pauses long enough to ensure both of your feet have planted before heading towards the awaiting squad car. You stumble forward as you struggle to match his much longer strides to prevent from tripping.

The initial shock is what allowed him to get you halfway to the squad car. But once you notice Ramos, his much younger partner hesitantly shrugging off the squad car, your heels dig into the ground.

“Dad, you’re hurting my arm –” You yank your arm back, the force causing your father’s grip to tighten. For a brief moment you both pause. The adrenaline from just a few moments before seems to have kicked into high gear as you meet your father’s gaze. “I can walk myself to the car.”

Trevante is already out of his jeep, partially afraid he might be drug out next. He watches you storm off to the car and takes a step in your direction. The more rational part of his brain tells him he should get back into his jeep and head home before your dad’s gun is out of its holster.

“Sir, I promise you, it’s not what it looks like-”

"Get your ass in the car, Tre."

It's not until you've slid into the back of the squad car, slamming the door as hard as you can for good measure, that Trevante realizes he was meant to join you.

Trevante hesitates. Pointing over his shoulder, he takes a step back towards the security of his jeep.

"Uh-my pop's will flip if I don't bring the car home."

"Don't worry about that," your dad smiles as he pauses to clap his hand on Trevante's shoulder. His grip digs into Trevante's skin, causing the young man to wince. "I'll explain it to him when I drop you off."

Once your dad is seated in the driver's seat, you lean forward, your fingers pressed against the grate.

"You're not going to let Ramos cuff me? Take me down to the station to prove a point?"

Your dad doesn't speak to you. Instead, he lifts his radio and shares that he's dropping two teenagers off at home.

In fact, he doesn't speak to anyone for the fifteen car ride home. He pulls up to the curb in front of your house and comes to a stop. You get out. You hop back as the squad car takes off. Driving past Trevante’s house, it does a quick U turn before speeding out of the neighborhood.

You take the front steps two at a time, not bothering to check if the door closes fully behind you. The last thing you need is for your mom to see you. You head straight to the shower, locking the door, and hoping no one will bother speaking to you. But as you cut off the light and head to your room, you know that is impossible.

You enter your room to find your mom seated on top of your bed, patiently waiting for you.

Your shoulders tense, your body bracing for the screams. But, your mom surprises you by quietly asking.

"Are you okay?"

"It's embarrassing. I wasn't doing anything-"

"That's not what your father told me." She interjects, your face falling into your hands. "He said you and Tre were...closer than usual."

You find yourself wondering if your father had recounted precisely how he'd found you.

"It was a kiss," you sigh. "Nothing else -- We didn't do anything else. We weren't going to."

"We're not surprised, sweetheart." Your mother's response causes you to blink in confusion. She was not lecturing you. She was using this opportunity to have yet another sex talk. "I mean -- your father is pretty surprised. But your father and I have had this conversation already. The two of you spend an awful amount of time together. You and Trevante have been friends for a while. You're both growing older, and your bodies are changing. He's noticing how your body's changing. You're noticing his-"

"Mom-"

"Your hormones are through the roof, your body might feel like it's hypersensitive around him. That's normal. You find yourself wondering if sex is as good as it looks on tv--"

"I don't need the sex talk again." You groan as you cross the room. Taking a seat beside her, you pick up your pillow before laying back. “And, what is it with you and hormones? This is the second time this week you’ve brought them up.”

Your mom doesn't quite believe you. "A mother’s intuition. The last time we had the sex talk, honey, you were a freshman. You weren't thinking about boys-"

"And I'm really not now," you mumble from beneath the pillow covering your face.

"Take that off."

You groan.

Doing as she says you allow her to tug against your hands pulling you up. Sitting against the headboard, you tuck your knees into your chest.

"Kissing can feel good. But it often leads to something more serious. I'm not as naive as your father. You can't stay a little girl forever. I just don't want you rushing into something you're not ready for. Or at least not with a clear head."

"Mom, I wanted to get my first kiss over with. So I'm not the only girl in the entire junior class that has never been kissed. Tre just did it as a friend. Nothing is going on between us. We're still best friends."

Your mom is silent for a moment. You feel nervous as her gaze studies your eyes before leaving your face. It feels like with just a look, she can visualize every moment from before, and what is to come. Heat races across your skin as you think of Trevante's lips against yours. It rushes to your thighs as her eyes find your neck. The place where his lips showed you that kisses didn't have to be on your lips to feel amazing. The place where your flesh was tender, bruised.

"Best friends still need to understand the importance of condoms." She smiles as your brows raise. You're not sure how you didn't notice it before, but she lifts the box of condoms from her lap. "You can't depend on a guy to have one. In fact, most will try and say you don't need them."

Noting your wide eyes, she says quietly. "It'll give your father more peace of mind if he knows you have these. Even if you're not planning on using them."

You take the box, tossing it towards the chair in the corner.

She gets up pausing long enough to press a kiss against your forehead.

"I think it might be best if Tre doesn't stop by for a while. At least until your father can cool down."

"Fine," you huff.

"Night sweetie."

You watch the door close behind her, listening to her retreat to her room. A few moments later, you hear her speaking to your father through the phone.

You get up, crossing the room. You retrieve the previously discarded box of condoms. Opening the top drawer putting the box of condoms inside. You're about to close it when you stop to rearrange the clothes inside. You cover the box from your sight. Pushing the drawer shut you take a deep breath.

You study your reflection in the mirror. You swollen lips, wide eyes. The bruise on your neck. You realize it won't be easy to hide it in tomorrow's heat. When you cross the room, you pause by the window. You realize Tre's curtains are open. The light in his room is on. From your windows, you can see directly into each other's bedroom.

No matter how many times you've shared this tidbit, Trevante doesn't seem to utilize the blinds. You tend to keep your blinds shut in the morning and after his return home from practice. Accidently spotting him walking around his room, stark naked in the eighth grade has made you overly cautious.

You are in the process of untying the string holding back your curtains when you realize he's moved in front of the window. From what you can tell, your father hasn’t done any physical damage to him.

Trevante tugs his shirt over his head lazily tossing it in the direction of his hamper. He pauses to release the breath he was holding. As he turns towards the window, you take a step to the side. Your breath hitches in your throat as you bump your elbow. 

He waits a moment. The light flooding from your bedroom making him hopeful you’ll check to see if he’s home. But you never do.

 two and a half years ago. (gif)

Catching my breath, pounding my chest

I’m loving you less, I need to confess.

What is it about firsts that the human brain loves so much?

It seems as though we always remember our firsts.

Our first kiss, the first time we heard our favorite song. The first time we felt an inkling of true love. We can remember everything down to what we were wearing, how fast our heart was beating, the weather. Everything. Down to the smallest of details.

When you're in love, being able to remember all of your firsts is a beautiful thing.

What about when you're no longer in love? When only one of you is still in love?

Suddenly, your firsts are different.

You begin to remember the first time you notice his lips felt different against yours. The first time his hand stops pressing against your lower back as he passes you in the kitchen for his morning coffee. The first time he stops whispering how beautiful you look when stealing a second kiss.

You remember the first time his phone lights up, illuminating the bedroom ceiling when he thinks you've dozed off. The first time he calls to tell you he's working late, so there's no need to postpone dinner. The first time dates that once seemed important only seem important when he is reminded of their significance. You even remember the first time you gave up on sending him reminders.

Most importantly, you remember the first time he tells you he isn't in love with you anymore.

It had come in your favorite restaurant: The Gold Eagle. William always took you there when he had news to share whether it be a promotion, the winning of a case, or when he wanted to renew your vows.

You weren't expecting any news in particular when he asked you to book a babysitter for Colby. Certainly not the end of your marriage.

The words had come abruptly -- or maybe it seemed abrupt to you.

How else would can you describe the shift in conversation from plans for your son's birthday party to not being in love anymore?

Abrupt. It is the only way to describe it.

When he'd first spoke the words, you didn't respond. Will had thought you hadn't heard him. Under the music and laughter surrounding you, he couldn't be too sure.

Will cleared his throat, shifting in his chair as he paused the action of cutting his steak.

"Did you hear me?" He'd asked. His brows knit together as he studied your face for any sign of acknowledgment. "Y/N."

You had heard him. Loud and clear.

Your mind concentrated on his word choice. It was meticulous.  There was a time when you loved that Will spoke that way. He never strung people along, or beat around the bush. He always told the truth, sparing someone's feelings came second.

You always knew where he stood, or so you thought.

"I don't love you anymore." Those were the five words that had come out of his mouth.

He hadn't said, "I'm falling out of love with you." He wasn't giving you a warning as to what might come. He was careful with his words because he knew you. He knew you were hoping he hadn't made his mind up. He wanted you to understand that there was no room for repairing.

There was a tiny part of you that was not shocked. That little voice, in the back of your mind, that has been whispering to you the last year. The tiny voice that has been telling you to trust your gut each time you doubted Will.

Reaching forward, you picked up the wine glass before you. Will's eyes observed as you downed the red contents of the entire glass.

He wiped at his mouth, his jaw tightening as you reach across the table for his untouched glass. He doesn't bother objecting as you down the entire glass of wine. He subtly waved off the young waiter approaching with a fresh bottle in his hand.

Will cleared his throat, sitting up in his seat.

"I've already drawn up an agreement. I believe you'll find that it takes both you and Colby into consideration."

He reached into the pocket of his suit jacket. He produced a white envelope.

"William-," you gasp, the air in your lungs escaping you for a moment.

For a brief second, the sound halts his passing of the envelope. He watched the welling of your eyes. His throat clenched as he tried to swallow.

"I don't want to fight you for anything. I told my lawyer that the money's not an issue."

"The money you got because I stayed home with your son? The money you earned being able to show up at all hours at the drop of your boss's hat because I put off getting my masters and furthering my career? Now you’re kicking me and your son out of my house --"

"I told my lawyer that the money's not an issue." He repeated. "I have opted to split it all, 50/50. I'll pay a set amount the first of each month. It will be enough to keep you and Colby comfortable. It will cover his tuition-"

"What do you want me to fix?" Your question had come out softly. The raised question pulled Will's eyes from the envelope. "I'll do anything you want. I'll-Please do not break up our family."

William knew this would happen. He knew that letting you down wouldn't be easy, no matter how much he tried. That is why he can't meet your eye as your plea hangs in the air. He can't watch you cry, his gaze returning to the envelope before him. The tears which blurred your vision are his one weakness.

As he watched you wipe at your eyes, Will found his confidence slipping away. He leaned forward and placed the envelope in the center of the table. He needed to present his out, needed to make the break clean. There was one piece of information he knew would make you take your previous plea back.

"She's pregnant," Will continued as you concentrated on finishing the wine in your glass. It takes a moment for his words to sink in. You blink, meeting his gaze. "She wants to keep it, and...so do I."

Suddenly, everything made sense — Will's insistence on hiring a  babysitter. There was a reason you were having dinner in a public place as opposed to the privacy of your dining room.

Will didn't want you to cause a scene, or at least knew you wouldn't. Not here.

"We can't have another kid right now, baby." You recited, the words halting his movements. "I'm swamped at the office. They're finally giving me a shot. I wouldn't want to leave you at home taking care of two kids just as I'm getting a break in my career."

Will shook his head. "I...It hasn't been right between us for months, Y/N. What's the point of staying together if we're drifting apart? Please don't say we need to stay together for Colby. I'm not leaving my son. But kids pick up on shit. No matter how good we are at faking it in front of him."

"Come on, y/n," he sighed as you glanced over your shoulder in search of your waiter. When you spotted the young man, you lifted your empty wine glass in the air. Will continued speaking the feeling he was digging himself into a deeper hole heavy against his chest. "This isn't a surprise to either of us-"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," you scoffed as you watched your hesitant waiter arrive. Sensing the tension between you and your husband, the young man quickly attempted to uncork the fresh bottle of wine. "I wasn't aware that my husband was fucking someone else while he was also fucking me-"

"Alexis and I-"

William watched your movements freeze.

The mentioning of the young paralegal's name seemed to break through the haze that had started forming on your mind.

"Could you be even more cliche? You fucked the office's teenybopper paralegal? And you got her pregnant? You could have just used a condom."

For a moment, William didn't react. He watched the range of emotions wash over your face. The frustration that morphs into disappointment. The resolution that forms as you reached forward taking the bottle of wine from the hands of the struggling waiter.

"He'll pay for it."

You removed the napkin from your lap, sitting it on the table. You picked up the envelope and shoved it into your purse. You're halfway to the door by the time Will can take out his wallet and pay.

The cold air hit you hard. The intake of fresh air causing your head to swirl. The burn of your chest and rush of your heart made the task of retrieving your valet ticket from your purse difficult.  

Once you found the ticket, you turned. The wind was knocked out of you as ran into a solid barrier.

"Whoa. You okay?"

Trevante caught his breath, his hands instinctively finding your waist to keep you from falling back.

You looked up at him, the recognization on his face causing his brow to furrow.

"Fuck," you groaned, your hands instinctively pushing against his chest.

The look on your face caused Trevante to ignore your request of space; his gaze drifted over your shoulder in search of an explanation.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He asked, the warmth of his hands finding your cheeks. His grip was firm, forcing you to stop your attempt to turn your face away.

You shook your head; your eyes gripped closed.

"I can't see you right now. You of all people. I cannot handle seeing you right now."

"Are you okay?"

Will's grip found your right elbow, his touch seeming to snap you out of it. Wiping at your eyes, you allowed him to guide your body closer to his.

"It's all good, man," Will smiled as he watched Trevante reach out to take your left hand.

"You sure?"

With one look, William knew he was not the one the question was directed to.

His weight shifted forward as Trevante takes in the scrunching of your nose. He knows the action very well. He knew that the silent breaths you take are an attempt to stop the tears in your eyes from spilling over.  But you also won't meet his gaze.

"Yeah, look, man. Y/N just had too much wine." Will chuckled as he retrieved the bottle from your hand. "I figured it'd be best she finished this one at home. You know how she is. Could never keep up with the guys."

You wrapped your arms around your waist, your eyes remaining on the ground before you as Will draped your jacket over your shoulders. You nod.

"I'm fine. Just ready to go home."

Trevante was thrown by how fast your entire demeanor had changed before his eyes. The tears were gone, along with the shaking of your voice. He almost thought he'd imagined it.

Before Trevante could respond, Will had led you back towards the valet. He helped you into the passenger seat, pausing long enough to give Trevante a wave before walking around the back of the car and getting into the driver's seat.

2019: this morning.

Concentrating on your son, you smile as Colby absentmindedly toys with the phone in his hand.

The headphones resting over his curls, obstruct any sound or conversations you don't want him to hear. After your reunion, he'd climbed into your lap to watch an episode of  Teen Titans.

You're both seated outside of the courtroom, patiently awaiting your turn. The clock on the wall, states you have five more minutes until your lives officially change.

They have changed steadily over the past few months, more noticeably for you than Colby. It took a while for him to understand that his dad was no longer living with you. William tried to stay present. He saw Colby more than you initially thought he would. The two of you alternate pickups and drop-offs at school. William stops by to share dinner with the two of you on Sundays, taking Colby to eat with him and Alexis twice a week.

When he's feeling up to it, Colby spends a week with his father. Usually, he opts for weekends. He hasn't warmed up to Alexis yet. Or their daughter.

Today is the first time you've physically held your son in two weeks. William had taken him to Atlanta to visit his parents for their wedding anniversary at the start of summer break.

"Thanks for letting me take him."

Instinctively, your eyes leave your Colby to find Alexis.

She is waiting beside William's lawyer, by the courtroom doors. She is cradling their daughter, Lola, in her arms. Although William's lawyer is speaking to her, Alexis's attention is focused on you.

"He is your son."

"I know, Y/N." William takes a deep breath. He releases it before adding. "I know two weeks is a long time, and you didn't want him to go...so thanks. It meant a lot to my parents."

You nod before looking in his direction.

"I'm shocked Alexis didn't show up with balloons, streamers, a "bride to be" sash, save the date cards...a marriage license for the judge to sign after she notarizes the divorce decree."

Your words harden William's jaw, his gaze sinking to his lap.

"We haven't spoken much about it," he breathes, but the wiping of his palms against his pants legs begs to differ. "We're still trying to settle in with Lola."

"But you have talked about it."

"She wants it to happen sooner than later."

"Well, you can come back here tomorrow and make it official. As of today, you are officially free of me, Mr. Prescott."

Most of the court proceedings are a blur — stipulations, and compromises going in one ear and out the other.

You didn't need to focus in on the words. You'd memorized that divorce agreement front to back. It's impossible not to when you've found yourself crying over it as many times as you have the past few months.

Many of those tear-filled nights, when you'd settled for a glass of wine over blowing William's brains out, you'd thought of calling your lawyer. She and everyone who learned the details of your split urged you to file under claims of adultery. It could increase the amount of child support and alimony, but it wouldn't give you any satisfaction. Your mother didn't care about satisfaction. She wanted you to hit William where it hurt, or at least where it would hurt Alexis the most, in his pocket. But you didn't.

It when you are having a lasting doubt about your decision when a slight nudge comes to your side.

Looking up, you find the judge's expectant gaze on you.

"Mrs. Prescott, would you like to keep your last name?" She asked for a second time. "You have the option of remaining a Prescott, or returning your legal name to that of your maiden."

"Um..." Alexis's brows shoot up at the hesitation. She leans over, whispering to William. He looks away from you long enough to respond to her. Keeping his last name had never crossed your mind, for more than a few brief seconds. It always seemed unimportant compared to ensuring you were financially stable for Colby. "I would like to keep it, your honor. It's the same as my son's."

William nods, his reaction falling on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Alexis's.

"Mrs. Prescott will keep her legal name," the judge noted. "As of today, upon the signing of the presented documentation, from both parties, your divorce will be finalized."

William meets your gaze. His fingers gently ruffle Colby's hair. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against your son’s forehead. He finds himself reaching out to wrap his arm around you, his arm giving you a gentle squeeze. He accepts the pen offered to him by his lawyer. William’s hesitation catches the attention of his fiance, but not yours as you place a kiss against Colby’s cheek.

"To new beginnings," his lawyer smiles, squeezing William's shoulder. The pressure a mixture of reassurance and urge causing WIlliam to remove the cap before leaning over the document. 

"Yeah...new beginnings."

2019: later on in the day. (gif)

"Do I have to wear this?"

Tugging against the collar of his shirt, Colby attempts to undo the top button. The light green polo button-down was one of the many gifts found in Colby's suitcase, courtesy of William's parents. Each time he visits them, they send him home with an entirely new wardrobe.

He needs to start dressing like a young man, Y/N. William's mother would always say.

"Yes," you sigh. Taking a step forward, you ring the doorbell for a second time before moving back to stand alongside your son.

"Daddy's always making me dress like this," Colby huffs, giving the collar another tug. "I hate dressing like this."

"It's because you look so handsome," you gently tease. "If I unbutton it, will you feel better?"

Nodding, Colby allows a grin to slide across his face as you kneel down before him. Undoing the top button you watch him release a dramatic sigh of relief.

"Hold on, let me get my glasses. I believe my eyes are deceiving me. Y/N Prescott?" Stepping onto the front porch, Trevante's father joking adjusted the frames resting on his nose. "I can't remember the last time that husband of yours let you come down to this part of town. Last time I saw you, you definitely weren't this tall, little man. How are you, Colby?"

"Good, sir. Thank you for asking." Bouncing his weight against his heels, Colby pauses long enough to shake the hand offered to him. He attempts to take a step inside in search of the children's laughter from inside the house. But you catch his shoulder causing him to stay put.

Mr. Rhodes looks over your shoulder, his gaze scanning the street.

"Speaking of husband's, where's yours? I wish I could say I've forgotten what he looks like, but his face is all over town now that he's made partner at that law firm. What is called now?"

"He couldn't make it." Offering up the platter of brownies in your hand, you feel your shoulders relax as his attention shifts to the snacks. "I made your favorite."

Lifting the lid, Mr. Rhodes sneaks a brownie out.

"Go ahead and takes those in, sweetheart. You know the way. Let's not tell, the misses that I had one."

"Your secret's safe with me."

You keep your free hand on Colby's head as you make your way inside. He knows he must stay at your side until he delivers the gift for Trevante's mom.

With each step, you find you're surprised how familiar the house feels despite the number of years since your last visit.

The music blasting outside is muffled by the shut screen door leading to the back yard, and the laughter and voices coming from the kitchen.

Nearly all of the wives and mothers from the neighborhood are in the kitchen, ducking under and stepping around one another as they balance different plates and bowls. You remain off to the side, suddenly feeling out of place.

Trevante's mother spots Colby first, her squeal of excitement pulling a shy grin from your son.

"Colby Andrew Prescott, my angel!" Scooping him up, she quickly places a kiss against his cheek before stopping to give his face a good once over. "You have gotten so big! And so handsome, just like your father. I've missed you. Both of you!"

Pulling you into a tight hug, his mother places a quick kiss against your cheek.

"Can you be an angel, and take these out to Tre? We're running behind with the food."

Before you can respond, Trevante's mother has replaced the platter of brownies with a plate stacked high with hamburger patties.

She gives you a gentle push towards the back yard, leaving you no room for opposition.

When you'd gotten the call from her, a few days prior, you thought it was a mistake. Trevante was coming home, and she was inviting everyone in the neighboorhood to stop by the house. Your initial plan had been to not show. It wasn't as though the two of you were that close anymore. Surely no one would notice if you didn't attend.

Maybe that's why you pause in the doorway when you spot him across the deck.

He's peppering playful kisses against the cheeks of his niece. Her giggles fill the air as he catches her fingers before her lips before pressing a final kiss against her forehead.

Placing her down, Trevante picked up the tongs before removing the hot dogs from the grill.

"Can I have two of those?" Colby asks as he stops at your side.

"You can have as many as you want," Trevante chuckles as he takes a step in your direction. "Man, you've gotten big, kid."

Colby nods, his smile growing as he tilts his head back for a better look at Trevante.

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

Smiling, Trevante squats down before Colby.

"How old are you now? Five?"

"No!" Colby's laughter fills the air as he rolls his eyes. "I'm eight. I turn nine in fourteen days."

"Fourteen, huh? I better start looking for a gift."

Colby's eyes widen at the offer, his head tilting back to meet your gaze. "My momma has the list...if you need help."

"Alright. I'll get a copy. Up top." Trevante winces as their palms collide, shaking his hand out. "Take it easy on me, lil' man. I'm not as strong as you anymore. How 'bout you go play for a bit. Work up that appetite?"

Lightly ruffling his hair, you watch as Colby takes off the yard towards the other kids. Your focus remains on him for a moment. When you look back to Trevante, you find his gaze on you.

He accepts the plate of patties you offer him, his gaze remaining on your face causing you to redirect your attention.

He knows the source of your gaze's redirection is him, but he doesn't look away. He finds his mind picking up on the visible changes you present. It seems now that you're in one another's presence, it occurs to Trevante the last time you were this close to him was two and a half years ago.

Placing the plate aside, he reaches into the nearby cooler.

"Want a beer?"

"Uh, no, thank you." You look up, watching as he twists the cap off of his bottle before taking a sip. "I'm Colby's designated driver. We're going to get ice cream later, so...lemonade for me..."

The heat on your skin causes you to point over your shoulder. "I'm actually supposed to help your mom. So, I'll see you later -- when I come back for the burgers."

"Okay." Trevante smiles. The passing of his eyes over you for a second time causes you to take a step back. "Look, don't be stranger. I don't want another two years to pass before you give me more than five words."

You nod. It takes you a moment to realize you haven't spoken. When you do, you manage an, "Okay."

There is a silence that rests between the two of you for a brief second.

"Just uh...come find me. Colby and I are at my parent's old house."

Trevante nods, his brow furrowing as his eyes linger on your bare ring finger.

"I know the one."

Turning, you start back towards the house but pause as you near the door.

Biting your lip, you release the breath weighing against your chest.

"Tre." At the sound of his name, Trevante glances back. You wait until he turns to face you to speak. Your gaze falls to your shoes. "What did my dad say to you that night?"

It was a question you found yourself pondering more frequently as of late. One you'd never mustered the courage to ask when the first shift in your relationship occurred.

His silence makes you think he's having trouble remembering what night you're speaking of. You had nineteen years worth of consecutive nights spent together to catalog.

When you look up, you find his gaze is across the yard. A soft smile is on his lips. Lifting his beer to his lips, Trevante takes a sip before taking a step back.

He meets your gaze before smiling, "these should be done in about twelve."

Taking a second step back, he turns and focuses on laying out the fresh patties across the grill.

..... to be continued .......

tags:  @chaneajoyyy @kemkem101 @l-auteuse @doublesidedscoobysnacks@ghostfacekill-monger @blackpinup22 @blkroyalltea @essaysbyciara@wakanda-inspired @eyestheyseeyou​ @hufflepuff-ish​

[firenationember]

Destruction, Everywhere (OC Fic)

6/12

Authors note: I’m sorry to anyone who read the previous chapter 6 but I wasn’t please with the progression of the story. It’s better now! Expect more chapters soon! This chapter is basically just a filler; it takes place during The Firebending Masters and the beginning of The Boiling Rock episodes (Zukko and Sokka returning next chapter. This is still just a cute little Katara/Draya friendship blurb, hence the Katara gif choice. Also: every chapter following this one is longer I swear lol

Previous Chapters 

The day after Zuko and I talked in the alcove, he and Aang decided it was time to get to the bottom of Zuko’s disappearing bending. Toph suggested they look for the original firebenders, which led them to travel to Ancient Sun Warrior ruins in search of an answer. I begged them to let me join them, aching to learn more about firebending firsthand, but Zuko insisted it had to be the two of them. “You were lucky to find a way to coax your firebending out when it’s being stubborn. I won’t find an answer in water.” Zuko and I walked next to each other towards Appa, not wanting him leave without saying goodbye. I sighed before nodding. “I understand, it is your destiny to help the Avatar after all. For your honor!” I imitated Zuko when I said the last bit, throwing my fist in the air for dramatic effect. He rolled his eyes and laughed, smiling down at me. “My uncle once told me ‘Destiny is a funny thing. You never know how things are going to work out, but if you keep an open mind and an open heart, I promise you will find your own destiny someday.’ We were actually here, in this Air temple, when he told me that. It was right after the Agni Kai when I first got banished. I still had the bandage on, and I was sure my destiny to capture the Avatar. When we lived in Ba Sing Se, he told me to ask myself ‘Who are you, and what do you want?’ and at the time I wasn’t sure. Maybe, I’m still not sure.” He chuckled and shakes his head. “All I know, is this is much better than any destiny I could’ve wished for.” He gestured to our friends before meeting my gaze, a soft smile dancing on his lips as he grabbed one of my hands. “I’m much happier than I thought possible.” I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I heard Sokka clear his throat behind us. “I hate to break it to ya D, but your boyfriend has to leave with Aang soon if they want to get back in time to stay on schedule.” Zuko dropped my hand and we shuffled apart slightly, Zuko chuckling as he rubbed the back of his neck. “For the last time Sokka, he’s not my boyfriend. It’s just nice to have another firebender on my side for once, something I know we all relate to.” Before I step away from Zuko, I turned to him. “Your uncle would be proud of you for finding your own destiny, and you can tell him all about it when we find him. Now go get your firebending in check, I miss having a firebending sparring partner. No offense Aang.” I say, looking over at Aang as he shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to fight you even if we were just sparring, Draya. Now let’s go, Zuko!” Aang burst himself up on Appa’s back with an explosion of air as Zuko climbed up the side. Zuko looked over and gave me a small wave as the monk boy yelled “yip, yip!” and they were off. “Don’t worry, your boyfriend will be back soon.” Sokka said, sliding up next to me. I sent a little burst of flames to his feet and he yelped, hopping up into the air. “No firebending Draya, it’s not fair!” I laughed as I walked away, hoping Aang and Zuko find what they’re looking for. When they got back, they were so excited to show us the newest firebending form they learned while exploring the ruins. We watched as they posed and formed a circle together, Katara and Sokka teasing them relentlessly at their “new dance”. “It’s a sacred form that happens to be thousands of years old.” Zuko said, obviously annoyed at the Water Tribe siblings’ antics. “Oh yea? What’s your little form called?” Katara asked, mock dripping in her voice. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to help from laughing out loud when I saw Zuko’s angry face shift to one of slight embarrassment. “The Dancing Dragon…” the other 3 started laughing, Toph and Sokka bouncing jokes off each other. I walked over to Zuko, who was mumbling angrily to himself. He stopped to look over at me, smiling softly with a sigh of relief. “I’d love to learn this new firebending form, it looks like it could be useful...” I started, before being interrupted by a giggling Sokka. “Yea, at your wedding!” he said, walking up behind me and slapping his palm on my shoulder. Zuko’s smile fell into an annoyed scowl as I rolled my eyes. “First you call him my boyfriend, which he’s not, and now we’re getting married? Excuse me for wanting to learn an ancient firebending form. You wouldn’t understand, boomerang guy.” I said, crossing my arms across my chest as I turned to face Sokka, who was defensively yelling about his sword wielding. I knew he was a good fighter; it was just so fun to get him worked up sometimes.

The next night, Zuko tried to make tea for us around a fire. I watched as he walked over to Sokka, offering him a cup. The Water Tribe boy spoke to Zuko in a hushed tone, and I watched as they walked away. I wondered where they went off to, quickly forgetting about it when Toph sent a wave of rocks underneath me to get my attention. Sokka appeared before Zuko did, not too far behind him. Sokka give a rushed goodnight before stuffing his body into his sleeping bag, the others following suit after him. Zuko helped me clean up our mess a bit, putting out the fire, neither of us finding anything to say. I turned to face him, walking close enough so that only he could hear my words. “Is Sokka okay? He seemed moody all afternoon and right now he seemed almost annoyed about something.” I searched Zuko’s face for any sign of emotion, hoping to figure out his answer before he said anything. “He’s okay, just feeling overwhelmed. You know how Sokka gets.” He shrugged, his tone not at all convincing. Realizing I wouldn’t get more out of him, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his torso. His familiar warm scent made the hug even more comforting as he wrapped his strong arms around me. “Good night, Zuko.” I said, stepping back and walking towards my sleeping bag. “Good night, Draya.” He replied, smiling back at me as he continued to mess about with the fire. The expression he had on his face stuck with me, a mixture of concern and contemplation. It shouldn’t have surprised me when we woke up the next morning to find Zuko and Sokka gone, some less than convincing note left behind. “Need meat. Gone fishing. Back in a few days. -Sokka and Zuko. One more thing. Aang, practice your firebending while I’m gone. Do 20 sets of fire fists and 10 hop squats every time you hear a badger frog croak. -Zuko”. A badger frog croaked right after Katara read the letter, earning an exasperated sign from Aang. “Draya doesn’t have any firebending homework.” He said, starting his set of hop squats. I laughed slightly and shrugged. “I’m not training to be the Avatar.”

I was stretching in the sun, the heat wrapping around my body, as I got lost in my thoughts about what Zuko and Sokka could be getting up to. Katara pulled me from them as she called out my name to get my attention, motioning with her hand to go over. We walked towards each other and I couldn’t read the expression on her face. Annoyance? “Is everything okay Katara?” I asked, not sure what her expression meant. She shook her head in shock and scoffed, crossing her arms. “You’re asking me if everything’s okay, when you’re the one who’s basically been avoiding us since my brother left with Zuko?” I could tell she was trying to control the emotion in her voice. I sighed and shifted in place. “I didn’t realize I was avoiding everyone, I guess I’ve just been so lost in my thoughts and my training… I’m sorry.” I said as casually as possible, not wanting to go into much more detail. Her face softened before suddenly turning into a playful grin. “I see the way you look at Zuko, even though I question your judgement a little considering he’s such a jerk; is that what this is about? You like him and you’re sad he’s not here?” I looked at her, hoping my face showed just how confused I was. She laughed a little before continuing. “You guys did disappear for a while the other night…”, she waved her hand in front of her body before crossing her arms as she looked at me, obviously wanting an answer. I laughed a little, shocked at the quick change in her tone from angry to lighthearted teasing. “There’s nothing going on with Zuko, he’s my friend. Just like you, Sokka, Aang, and Toph. The other day, he was just there for me in a way nobody else ever has been. You know you’re one of the best friends I’ve ever had, one of the only ones really. Having Zuko around, finally another firebender who shares my view of the Fire Nation, has been indescribable. A feeling I’ve never had, not even with my own family.” I shrugged, smiling as I realized I could give her something a little more exciting; something I hoped would make up for the fact that I’ve been accidentally avoiding them. “He was my first crush though, when I was 9. I’d only met him once, and it was brief, but… I remember it clearly. My life changed a lot pretty suddenly after we met, so I forgot about my silly crush pretty fast.” I finally looked over at Katara, whose wide eyes lit up as she giddily brought her hands up to her face. “I knew it! A childhood crush is still a crush, Draya. Look, I don’t want to encourage a relationship with someone so untrustworthy, I mean I really think you can do better than someone who’s been so unreliable in the past. But, you two do look happy when you’re together. It’s safe to say he probably has a little crush on you too.” It was my turn to look at her with wide eyes as I scoffed at the idea, shaking my head. “Katara, we have much bigger things to worry about then childhood crushes. Like defeating the Firelord, you know, to save the world?” We both laughed and I felt the tension in the air dissolve. I realized it was wrong to shut my friends out like this, seeing Katara’s kind expression as she smiled at me. “Yes now, but you’re still human Draya. I’m just saying, you should follow those feelings. Or at the very least tell him, because… there’s no saying what’s going to happen the day of Sozin’s comet. Be honest with him sooner rather than later.” I nodded, knowing Katara was right. It’s not like I was going to listen to her advice, I can’t imagine telling Zuko he was my childhood crush. That doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy his company now, before everything changes, and we have to accept our futures. I smirk and turn to her, crossing my arms. “What about you? Do you have a little crush on anyone you’re thinking about talking to before the comet?” Katara’s smile dropped as a blush crept its way onto her face, and she looked away as she played with her hair. “What? No. What makes you say that? I think you’re right, we have bigger things to worry about right now. I just thought since Zuko’s here with us right now, you should take advantage of that because it’s not like he hasn’t betrayed us before...” Her voice became quieter as she spoke, and I could tell by the way she was looking everywhere but towards me that she hadn’t said it as quietly as she hoped. I sighed before replying. “You’re right, I just don’t think Zuko’s going to do that this time. He really wants to help Aang, he wants to help take down his father so the Fire Nation can finally be saved from his immoral ruling. He really has changed Katara, and he’s actually very kind. I hope maybe you can see that too, one day.” Katara rolled her eyes and breezed by my statement, locking an arm through mine as she stood up and guided me back towards the others, rambling on about not being afraid to talk to them in the future. I smiled as she spoke, happy that I admitted to someone how I felt about Zuko, even if I never told him.

Chapter 7

[weirdochick56]

Enhanced- Bucky Barnes Chapter Four

Bucky Barnes x Mutant!Reader

Warnings: A violent scene is described in this chapter. A tiny bit of angst. 

Disclaimers: I don’t own any MCU characters/plots mentioned.

Word Count: 2, 484 words

(Gif’s not mine!)

Read Chapter Three Here!!

***

The darkness that surrounded you was serene. Calm and welcoming almost. You expected it to be cold and dark, but...it’s warm and enlightening. You figure it’s because you feel a part of the darkness.  

It took you in, accepted you and embraced your every flaw. From the ones engraved on your soul to the ones decorating your skin and mind. 

It didn’t push, it didn’t expect anything of you, thus it didn’t pressure you.

 You felt safe and at peace as our body floated in never-ending blackness. You were alone, but you didn’t feel like it.

 Suddenly, a strong force came in the opposite direction and sucked you through a small hole. A light. 

You release a gut-wrenching scream and your eyes fly open. 

It all happens so fast. You sit up and gasp, taking in a huge gulp of air, as much as you lungs could take in one breath.

 A bright light hits you directly in the eyes, forcing you to release a small groan and screw them shut, laying back down. Then your hearing tunes in.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeping has become erratic. You cautiously open your crusty, dry eyes when you hear shuffling beside you, something warm is moving your hand.

When you look over, your head still hazy, the first thing you see is Bucky. His eyes are wide and his mouth is moving erratically, but you can’t seem to make out anything he’s saying. 

You squint your eyes, trying to read his lips. And then your ears zoom into his words. “...okay?”

“What?” says the words hurt your throat. They’re weak and cracking. 

He grips your hand tighter, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. “I’m going to get you a doctor okay?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer before releasing your hand and running out of the room.

“Bucky wa-” your hand is left outstretched towards the doorway.

*

“Okay miss Y/l/n. It seems all your vital signs are just about right.” The doctor, a chubby middle-aged man with a retreating hairline, smiles sympathetically at you. 

You nod stiffly, shifting your gaze over to Bucky, who’s leaning on a wall all the way on the other side of the room, his arms crossed over his chest and his concerned eyes trailed on you. Once your gazes meet, he’s quick to look away. 

The doctor clears his throat, gaining your attention and looking between you two. “I’ll leave you to rest then. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He throws Bucky a small smile and nods then leaves, closing the door lightly behind you.

“Why did you do it?” As soon as the door closes, Bucky blurts out the seemingly pressing question.

Your head snaps towards him and you frown. “Buck-”

“No,” he stalks over to you, his jaw clenched. “Why Y/n? I-I just. I-I n-” he pauses his breaking speech and lets a small sigh leave his lips, closing his eyes tightly. 

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. He finally opens his eyes, they’re damp, his jaw clenched so hard, it’s difficult to believe it wasn’t broken by now. 

“I need to know why y-you’d ever even consider-”

You interrupt him, your voice soft. “C-can we not talk about this? I,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “ I don’t feel comfortable.”

He grips the corners of your bed tightly, his knuckles turning white and his eyes set on your bandaged wrists, which you self-consciously hide from his view. “Y/n, you almost died. You can’t really expect me-”

You look him in the eyes, your own pleading. “Please Bucky.”

He scoffs, hangs his head and nods. His response is but a whisper. “Fine.” 

You sag at his compliant response, relief flooding you. After a second of tense silence, you decide to break it.

“Where is everybody?” 

He throws you a look, conveying the fact that he knew you were trying to change the subject, but true to his word doesn’t comment on it. “They’re waiting outside. You scared us doll.” He looks you in the eye then chuckles humorlessly. 

You hate to admit it, but you had were disappointed he hadn’t been personally affected by the whole ordeal. You know it’s wrong to feel this way, and you feel horrible about it, but you also can’t help it. 

Biting your lip, you elude his gaze, fiddling with the paper-thin hospital sheets laying on you. “That wasn’t my intention. I thought no one would notice.” Your last sentence is uttered reluctantly, scared of Bucky’s reaction to your confession.

Bucky lets out a small, incredulous scoff. “Not your intention Y/n? Y-you...are you kidding me? Did you really think no one would notice that you-” the vein in his neck is sticking out. He runs his hand through his face, a frustrated habit of his. Then his gaze flickers back to you, significantly softer and filled concern. 

“Do you know what it was like to find you laying in that bathroom floor, Y/n?” he swallows thickly, clearly pushing back tears. “I,” he holds his hands out, staring at them with a terrified glance. “I held your limp body in my hands. There was blood everywhere. Your blood, on me.” He looks down at himself. You suck in a sharp breath. 

He fists his hands and closes his eyes painfully. “And the worst part? I saw the life leave your eyes. I kept begging you to stay with me. Not to leave because,” his hand snakes into yours. You squeeze his hand tightly, holding back tears of your own. He seemed to understand what you meant and continued speak in a broken voice. “Because the thought of you dead, Y/n, terrified me. Lord knows I need you.” A single tear slides down his cheek, leaving a small wet trail on his cheek.

He doesn’t make a move to wipe it away, his eyes trained on you. He stares into your eyes and you do the same, ignoring your racing heart in the process, and searching for any type of sign that he was lying. But you can’t find anything that wasn’t sincerity and painful indignation in them. 

Your breath hitches in your throat at his words. What did he mean he needs you? You only just started talking. 

And yet, as you asked yourself the question, you realize, James Buchanan Barnes is the only person that could understand what you’d gone through. He might not know what it was, but he had the look. The one of someone tortured by their past. The same look you had. 

Maybe James Buchanan Barnes cared and trusted you enough to see this side of him because you and he were so similar. 

Maybe James Buchanan Barnes and you were destined to meet. 

***

A few hours fly by. Bucky leaves and the rest of the Avengers suddenly invade your hospital room. His still words float around in your brain a dozen times more. And you blush profusely, trying to repress the small smile you’d always feel creeping onto your face. It wasn’t of much help.

“Y/n?! Oh my God, you scared me!” Wanda rushes over as soon as her eyes land on you and tugs you into a bone-crushing hug. She buries her face into your hair. “Don’t ever do that again, please.” You smile and pat her back, holding back the urge to reciprocate her worried statement with one reminding her you couldn't possibly promise her that. 

Then, Tony runs over, taking your hands into his, his eyes stare at you with such heartbreaking sadness, it’s hard to not feel guilty.  “Oh, Buttercup...I’m so sorry.” 

You gulp, nodding and offering a forced smile. He looks like he wants to say more, but doesn’t do anything further. Something you're incredibly thankful for.

One by one, the Avengers offer you hugs and Thor even brought you a huge teddy bear, stating “So you don’t feel lonely at night Lady Y/n.” Your heart warms at their words and caring gestures. 

It’s sad, but you’d never felt more a part of the team than now. 

Steve and Bucky are nowhere in sight, which only serves to sadden and worry you. But you push those feelings aside, focusing on the lightening mood the rest of the Avengers had created in your small hospital room. 

Finally, the question burning deep in your brain you frown. “Hey, guys? Where are Bucky and Steve?” 

The room immediately goes silent and your eyebrows only plunge lower. The Avengers look at eachother. “What?”

Tony looks over at you, sighing. “They’re...talking outside.”

You raise a brow. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying?” 

Tony lets out another sigh, looking directly at Natasha, who widens her eyes generously and shakes her head. You scoff. 

“You know, for a super spy you aren’t very sneaky Nat.” Her head snaps over to you and she smiles sheepishly. 

“Where are they?”

Tony lets his shoulders sag, defeated. “They- Y/n. I’m gonna tell you-”

“Tony, don’t,” Natasha warns.

Tony dismisses her with his hand, then turns back to you. “But you have to promise me you won’t leave this room if I do.”

You huff. “Deal. Now spill.”

“Steve and Bucky...are,” Tony swallows, seeming regretful about opening his mouth. You glare at him. 

“They’re what Tony?”

Tony presses his lips together. “Well, you know, it started out as a small discussion then,” he shrugs. “They started getting a little more aggressive with eachother and-”

“Tony.”

“Well Bucky, sort of, kind of,-”

“Tony!”

Tony jumps, startled. 

Thor laughs loudly from behind him. “I think what the man of iron is trying to express in words lady Y/n, is that the soldier for the colder seasons drepa the captain.

When all you offer as a response is small, confused look, he grins amusedly, clarifying. “Or as you Americans would like to call it; Bucky snapped Steve in half like a twig.”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you rush to take off your blanket. “He what? W-where are they? Is anyone seriously hurt?” 

Tony’s eyes widen with urgency and Natasha is quick to cut in, her voice, as usual, monotone. “I think Thor’s being a little dramatic.”

Thor glares at her, “Hey!”

Natasha continues, disregarding his small protest. “Bucky didn’t kill Steve. He just...roughed him up a bit.” She shrugs nonchalantly. 

“Uh, you call giving him a broken nose, two fractured ribs, and a black eye, roughing him up?” Tony puts his fingers in quotes and throws her an incredulous look.

“What?”

“Okay, maybe it was a bit harsh, but Steve deserved it,” Natasha admits. 

“Guys.”

“I agree, he was being a dick to Y/n. But did you see the way he jumped on Steve when he mentioned Y/n? It was so slick!” Wanda gushes with a small smirk.

“Guys.”

Thor snickers. “It was one of the most savage yet satisfying things my old Norseman eyes have ever had the pleasure of seeing.”

Tony turns to him, horrified. “You find this amusing, Thor?! He could’ve killed him!”

“Oh come on Tony. Don’t be overdramatic, Steve is strong enough,” Clint scoffs. 

“Guys!” All their heads snap towards you and growl. 

“What the fuck happened between them?!” 

***

BUCKY’S POV (A FEW HOURS EARLIER)

I step out of Y/n’s hospital room, my heart beating at a rapid pace. Goddamn it. Why did she have to make me feel so damn vulnerable?

I look up just to find Steve standing there, the rest of the team close behind, and a concerned look etched on his face as he headed for Y/n’s door. 

“Bucky. You were with her in the ambulance, have they told you anything?”

I can hear him talking to me. I can even see his facial muscles and his mouth moving, but I couldn’t register anything he was saying. All I could really hear and see was red. The more he talks, the angrier I get. 

“Is she okay?”

That registered at least. I clench my teeth and fist my hands. 

Steve frowns. “Buck?”

“Leave.” Is all I growl, refusing to let him so much as look at Y/n’s door. 

“What-”

“I said; leave.” I’m now standing nose to nose with him, anger pulsing through my veins like never before. 

Steve clenches his jaw. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you Bucky, but I’m gonna go see Y/n. So if you’ll excuse me,” just as Steve tries to sidestep me I beat him to it and push his chest back. 

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me is that that girl in there,” I throw my thumb over my shoulder aggressively. “Has been through hell and back. She doesn’t need you to remind her of why she did what she did.” Steve swallows thickly but continues looking at me evenly, refusing to back down. “Leave, man. This is the last time I’m gonna say it. You don’t deserve to see her.” I glance at the team. “In fact, none of you do. You did this to her.”

Steve scoffs. “No, Bucky. Y/n did this to herself it was her choice.”

I can see Tony cringe from the corner of my eye. Wrong choice of words Steve. 

I look at him calmly. “Say that again. I dare you.”

Steve squares his shoulders and puffs his chest. “I said; we had no influence in Y/n’s choice. She was the one who decided to-”

I didn’t wait for him to finish, pounding on him and bringing my fist down onto his face. I heard a sickening crack come from his nose but I didn’t stop, punching at everything I could get my knuckles on. “It’s...all...your...fault.”

Honestly, I don’t know where the hell I got the strength to take Captain America down in one move and on top of that be beating him to a pulp, but right now I don’t care.

He finally manages to push me off him, his face bloody and his breaths coming in labored pants. Nurses and doctors are rushing over to see what the commotion was all about. 

I don’t wait for them, dodging the aiding Avengers’ hands with a level of stealth even I didn’t know I had. I was so angry. I kick him in the ribs, ignoring his painful grunts, and sit on his stomach, my hands lunging for and tightly gripping his throat. 

I could only see red flashing behind my lids. I was pissed, sure, but I would never kill Steve, not really.

Steve continues to scratch at my hands and the rest of the Avengers are trying to pry me off. I scowl. “I should kill you for what you did, but I won’t. Believe it or not, Y/n would never forgive me for it. Even after you hurt her so much.” Then I stood up, ripped my arms from the team’s grips and stormed off, bumping my shoulder harshly with Natasha’s on my way out. 

Read Chapter Five Here!!

***

Okay, here it is folks!!

I honestly need a Bucky in my life, lol.

Anywho, as always reply, request, send asks about ANYTHING you want to ask me.

A Special Thanks To:

@jessikared97 @sherlockedtash88 and @lilypalmer1987 my brave-souled forevers! (lol)

As well as:

@wantingtobekorra

@littlephoenix-fire

@burningcoffeetimetravel

@superwholockwannabe

@babyplutoszx2

@stydia-4-ever

@animegirlgeeky 

@moli1497 -my lovely “Enhanced” people.

[samingtonwilson]

Relationship Tutor: (7) Critical Mural Analysis

relationship tutor masterlist

Summary: College AU. Bucky, a relationship novice, asks for your help in dating your friend. Unable to say no to him, you agree despite everyone and everything telling you not to.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: language

A/N: i really love this chapter-- not sure why. maybe steve? also, the gif below is not mine. if you’re reading this after may 7, 2020-- just know i’ve edited a part about the scrub because we should not be using scrubs on our faces, ladies! chemical exfoliation is the way to go. 

The night of Bucky and Natasha’s first date, you spent hours in Steve’s bed— the two of you rolling around, tangling the sheets, and breathing heavily as you finally lay beside one another.

Of course, you were fully clothed, covered in different colors of paint, and the sheets were made of canvas so you could help Steve with a piece he had due for one of his many art classes— but it would be much funnier to tell Sam the first synopsis upon his asking of where you’d been.

You turned your head to laugh with Steve, your orange, yellow, and red paint covered hand set atop your stomach. You pinched the fabric of your equally colorful t-shirt, spreading and blending the paint to form brighter, deeper, and even murkier shades before lifting that same hand to brush the latex swim cap stretched over your hair. “This is getting uncomfortable.”

“Would you rather get the warm colors in your hair?”

You shrugged, wrinkling your nose upon noticing the blue, green, and purple spread on his skin brightening the baby blue of his eyes while the swim cap made him look like some sort of Olympian. “You’re very pretty. Cool colors and all.”

“Yeah? Set me up with Wanda.”

You snorted. “I’m not running a dating service.”

“You should.”

“Like Will Smith in Hitch?”

“Haven’t seen that.”

“Have you seen anything from this century?” you asked, carefully peeling yourself from the canvas to avoid any marks that Steve didn’t approve of. You stepped onto one of the many tarps, fanning your toes out to watch the color bleed over the fabric. “You’re in your twenties, you know, not your nineties. There’s no harm in watching corny popular films, and listening to corny pop music, and paying attention to corny pop-culture.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as you wiped your fingers onto the holey black leggings you didn’t mind wrecking. “And liking corny pop art.”

He gasped dramatically, lifting his head to meet your gaze with a playfully offended expression. “Pop art? How dare you?”

“There’s integrity in pop art, Steve.”

“There is,” he agreed with a nod. “I just subscribe to a more… meaningful style.”

“It’s a wonder you manage to stay upright with a head and superiority complex that large,” you quipped, laughing when he shot you a glare. “Relax, I know you’re joking.”

“I still hate pop art,” he added after a moment, managing to stand upright without so much as rustling the sheet.

“Just like you still have a bit of a superiority complex. Only a small bit,” you clarified with a single nod. You yanked the cap from your head and shook your hair out while very loudly sighing in exaggerated relief.

He rolled his eyes as he asked, “Was it really that bad?”

“No, they just always do that in the movies.” With a swirling motion of your index finger, you told Steve to turn around, pulling the stained clothes from your body and changing into the clean pair you’d brought with you.

Once you tied the drawstring at the waistband of your wide leg cotton pants and a plain t-shirt was slipped into place, you cleared your throat and smiled at Steve when he spun to face you. “What’s this for again?”

“Background of a mural I’m doing,” he shrugged with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You sure you didn’t want to shower before changing?”

You nodded, seeing color already smudged onto the cuffs of your sleeves. “I’ll just wash off what I can at the sink and have Sam deal with whatever paint gets onto these later. He’s a wizard with a spray bottle of Oxyclean.”

Steve frowned in consideration and motioned to the bathroom down the hall. “By all means.”

The bathroom was tidier than you expected. You’d never known Steve or Bucky to be particularly messy— they would spend the morning after a party they’d hosted scrubbing everything down and not minding it one bit, they actually kind of enjoyed it— it was just surprising that everything seemed to almost sparkle as soon as you flicked the lights on.

You scrubbed your forearms with a large glob of antibacterial soap, trying to scratch the paint off your palms if you had to. You then snagged the green tea cleanser you remembered Bucky bragging about and squeezed out a little, inhaling the matcha as you spread it over your cheeks and forehead.

The iciness of the cleanser tingled across your face, brushing your cheekbones, chin, and jaw with your fingertips and sighing contentedly. It suddenly made more sense to you why Bucky’s skin always looked like velvet, why the peach that had a tendency to flush constantly glowed.

You leant against the counter and found yourself imagining what he must smell like, if you could catch a whiff of mint and tea when you got close enough to press your lips to his cheek, his jaw, his lips, his—

You shook your head to yourself and patted your skin with the hand towel one last time, your hair smoothed well out of your features which looked refreshed and renewed once you’d stolen a bit of the matching moisturizer, too. 

“Steven,” you called while stepping into the hall. “Are we ordering dinner or are you the type to take a tumble in the sheets and not feed a girl afterwards— Bucky.”

His head was tilted as he gaped at you, slate blue eyes wide and hair appearing as if he’d only just combed his fingers through it, left shoe halfway off. His eyebrows came together. He stared silently for almost twenty seconds.

You opened your mouth. “Uh, —”

“You and—” he paused and shook his head. “You and— Steve and you, you and Steve.”

You raised your own eyebrows, leaning your shoulder against the adjacent wall and biting down on your bottom lip to keep from smiling. “How was your date, Buck?”

He blinked a few times, his mouth fallen open. “My, uh— My— You and Steve.”

“Italian?” Steve asked, emerging from his room in all his blue, green, and purple glory. He smiled at you knowingly. “Or Thai?”

“I’m in the mood for Thai,” you replied, nodding at him once with a sly wink. “Could you call the place on Benton? I want to say it’s called Jasmine?”

“Sure. What’d you want?”

“Veggie pad thai— extra tofu, extra spicy.”

He nodded before sparing Bucky so much as a glance. “You hungry at all, man? Want me to order you—”

“The two of you?” Bucky interjected, looking between you and Steve. He threw his hands up in exasperation. “You two?”

“Buck, I want you to look at Steve,” you said, nodding towards the man you referred to. “Then look at my hands,” you held your palms out and rolled up your sleeves to show the paint you’d missed, “and my ears— which I’m very confused by.”

You grinned when Bucky began to stammer once more. “The jealousy was very cute, though. What was that? Twice in two days? First with Tony, now with Steve.”

“S’not jealousy,” he snorted, shaking his head unconvincingly. “I’m just— I’m attached to the fabric of our group.”

“The fabric of our group?” Steve repeated, holding the phone to his ear as he squinted.

“Yeah, you know, the quilt of our friendship,” Bucky nodded. “Our friendship quilt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right, and our love blanket and kindness parka.”

“Our sensitivity comforter,” Steve added, leaving the two of you in the hall as he ventured back to his room to rattle off your joint Thai food order.

“I wouldn’t fuck Steve without telling you, you know.”

Bucky looked up from his own phone wordlessly.

“You two are practically brothers and you’re one of my best friends. Kind of makes Steve my brother by proxy,” you shrugged with a laugh. “It’d be like incest, or something.”

He quirked a single dark eyebrow. “Does that make you and I like siblings?”

You shook your head with a wrinkled nose. Had the two of you actually been like siblings, your thoughts of how snuggly he would fit inside you would render a need to take yourself to a mental health professional immediately. “You and I— You and I are like husband and wife.”

“Husband and wife?” he echoed, smiling in that soft way that flipped your stomach and ached your chest. “Old married couple?”

“Absolutely. So old and dull, in fact, that your wife is helping you bag a mistress.”

He frowned in consideration and pushed off the wall, walking towards you to seemingly reach his bedroom at the end of the hall. He stopped when his shoulder brushed yours, however, and leant towards you to whisper, “S’a good thing this husband-wife thing is metaphorical.”

You looked at him, your noses close enough to bump together. You could smell the mint and citrus on his skin. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “If we were married, even for fifty years, you’d never catch me so much as looking at someone else. Forget about having you bag me a mistress.”

You simply stared back, your lips parted. Your heart felt as if it had stopped altogether, your ribs aching. You managed a smile when reality forced a thumping that could have brought you to your knees and pushed him gently. “I hope you used some of that charm on your date.”

He started down the hall again. “You’re not gonna split as soon as your food gets here, right?”

“Depends on what you want me to stay for.”

“Dissect the date with me,” he told you, tossing his navy blue bomber jacket into his room along with the shoes he’d toed off earlier.

You laughed dryly, loudly, and very sarcastically. “Yeah, no thanks. I have to watch the paint dry in Steve’s room. There’s also some grass outside I wanted to watch grow.”

“Very original.”

“Thank you.” You tipped your nose toward the ceiling. “I’ll stay here on one condition.”

“What?”

“You tell me where the fuck you got that skincare shit in there. My face smells like a matcha latte.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “S’my sister’s. Stole it from a package she got from Korea.”

“Well, I guess I’m going to lose more than half my paycheck to Korean skincare this month.”

“Beauty is pain, Y/N.”

It was a half hour before the food was delivered, Steve’s head in your lap so your fingers could fiddle with his blonde hair while the two of you watched recorded, protected, and backed-up episodes of The Wire— something you only agreed to upon Steve’s promise that you’d get your fill of Idris Elba.

Bucky set the two brown paper bags onto the coffee table and collapsed beside you, hair still wet from his shower. He wiped his hands down the lap of his sweatpants, leaning his head back against the upper edge of the couch. “Can we talk about the date now?”

You nodded and hoped the deep breath you took was inaudible. You shook Steve’s shoulder and laughed when he grumbled and sat up with hair pointed in every direction. “You good, old man Rogers?”

He offered you a sarcastic expression. “Phenomenal.”

As Steve busied himself with his dinner, his phone, and any tidbits of The Wire he could pay attention to, Bucky handed you your container and a pair of chopsticks before pulling out his own food.

You rose from the couch only to sit on the floor, your back against the foot of the sofa and your legs folded beneath you. You smiled at Bucky as he joined you, his back against one of the large lounger chairs. “Tell me about the date.”

“Well, we got coffee.”

Your voice thick with an unswallowed bite, you quipped, “Call me psychic, but I already knew that.”

“D’you ever consider being a stand-up?”

“I did, but they get paid dirt and I’m worth more than that.”

He shook his head with a small smile, his eyes on the contents of his dinner. “We sat at the booth you said she’d like. Back corner, with the amber hanging light.”

You nodded for him to continue, adding a bit of Sriracha to your noodles.

You continued to add hot sauce to your food until the heat became a distraction, until you could no longer blame the warmth in your cheeks and the warmth creeping up your neck on what Bucky was telling you.

Just like Bucky, you were unable to admit to yourself that you were jealous.

The delight over his features, the nervousness in the faint tremble of his fingers, the simple laughter in his voice made you wish you could be in Natasha’s place— but how could you admit that to yourself when the noble portion of you wanted his happiness above all? Selflessness was a virtue, wasn’t it? And selfishness a sin?

You were above petty jealousy and selfishness, you wanted Bucky to be happy and wanted the tears in your eyes to be blamed on the chili sauce in your food rather than the aching in your chest.

“When’s the right time to text her?”

You snorted, using your sleeve to wipe your eyes when he pushed off the floor and walked to the kitchen. “That’s not a thing worth being concerned about.”

He cocked an eyebrow as he came back into the room, occupying the same space as before. He watched as you set your container aside and polished off half of your beer in one ago, a smile pulled at his lips. “They’re always concerned about it in the movies.”

“Because movies do mirror real life seamlessly.” You set your bottle onto the table. “Just text her, tell her you had a good time, and want to see her again soon.”

“What about a casual run-in?”

“A what?”

“A casual run-in. Do you just not watch romantic comedies?”

You frowned. “I watch romantic comedies. I’m a complex person, James. I just— The idea of a casual run-in makes me uncomfortable. Like, what? Are you gonna stalk her and wait for the perfect time to jump out and make it look casual?”

He wore a scowl of his own. “When you say it like that, —”

“So that was the whole date? Coffee, talking about your lives, and walking her to her place?”

He nodded. “Kept my hands to myself, too. Slow and organic.”

“Slow and organic,” you agreed with a small, maybe even relieved smile.

PART 8: TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY ROMANTICISM 

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[cynicallystiles]

Marry You

Disclaimer: Gif originally posted by me.

Author: @cynicallystiles

Request: @laurs-x :  Request for Tom Holland x Reader where they go to visit Tom’s family and reader just kinda falls in love with all of them as a family and in the middle of that night reader asks Tom to sneak off to the court house/chapel to get married and they do and it’s just v sweet and romantic?? love you babeeee 💗

Warning: SO MUCH FUCKING FLUFF.

Notes: I LOVE YOU, TOO! So, I changed just a little thing at the end. But, I got SO SOFT writing this. So, thanks for making me channel those fuzzy feelings. Comment or reblog if you enjoy! I love writing Tom fluff.

Pairing: Tom Holland x GenderNeutral!Reader

Abbreviations: y/n=your name, y/m/n=your middle name, and y/l/n=your last name

Masterlist

Words: 2,775

You clutched the armrest on the plane for dear life as you just so happened to hit a patch of bumpy air. Your white-knuckled grasp along with your shallow breathing drew the attention of the man you loved most in the world.

"Relax, darling. It's just a spot of turbulence. Nothing to fret," he soothes you in that oh-so-charming accent.

You smiled anxiously at him as he placed his hand atop yours and rubbed circles along your knuckles with the pad of his thumb. If only he knew the real reason you were scared to death right now. You were on a plane headed across the Atlantic to meet his family for the first time.

He'd already met yours long ago during the early stages of the relationship. It was a rather lackluster affair as you only had your dad and his wife, plus the two little balls of energy you called your step-sisters. Though you were well into your 3rd year of being together, you were still terrified of meeting his family.

Thus, your death grip on the poor armrest. As if sensing the elevation of your unease, he turned in his seat toward you. "What is it, love?"

"Imaybesortascaredtomeetyourfamily," you mumbled out low and quick. A tiny bit of relief swelled in you from just saying it out loud. But, your beloved hadn't quite heard you.

He leans closer with a chuckle as he asks you to repeat it. "I'm sorry, I couldn't make that out. You're speaking too low, darling."

Rolling your eyes and giving a sigh of resignation, you repeat it slightly loud enough for him to hear. Although you said it at the same pace as before, "IMAYBESORTASCAREDTOMEETYOURFAMILY! Okay?"

Your cheeks flushed with the color of embarrassment that you were this nervous. But he simply leaned over and kissed your temple, putting your nerves at ease.

"There's nothing to be scared of, y/n. I've told them loads about you and they love you already," he says reassuringly.

You scrunch your nose at him. "What if I don't live up to the hype?"

"Just trust me. I love you so so much. They have to love you, too," he whispers adoringly in your ear. You smile and rest your head on his shoulder as you release your grip on the seat and replace it with his hand.

Just like that, all the tension had left your body. You were no longer filled with anxiety, but with anticipation and excitement of meeting the love of your life's family for the first time.

Time flew by and before you knew it, you found yourself outside of the Holland household. Tom moves to ascend the steps but stops, noticing that you aren't right behind him.

"We talked about this, love," he reminded you.

You roll your shoulders as you take a deep breath. "What? Yeah. No, I know. I'm just-I just need a second to remember all the names," you admitted with your brows furrowed in concentration.

He rolls his eyes as he comes back down the few steps he's taken and grabs you by the hand to pull you along. "I will introduce you first, y/n. It's not a test," he assures you once again through a chuckle.

"Yeah. Okay. No. Yeah, I can do this. I've got this. It's just the names of my future family right? They're not gonna be offended if I mess it up the first twenty times..." you continue to mumble to yourself as Tom has already opened up the front door and led you inside.

You're still repeating the names and trying to attach them to faces you've seen in pictures when he stops and you stumble into his back. You peek out from over his shoulder and see the whole gang except for his mom standing around the dining table.

"What's going on?" You whisper.

He leans his head slightly toward you as he whispers back, "I haven't the faintest idea." You saw his mouth twitch up ever-so-slightly, and you knew he was fibbing.

"For an actor, you're not very good at keeping secrets," you say as you step out from behind him.

He clutches his heart and feigns a hurt expression. "Darling, your roasting hurts," he says over-dramatically.

"There's a reason Marvel doesn't give you scripts! I mean you just posted the title for Spider-Man 2 on your Instagram and Twitter," you remind him with a giggle.

He shrugs before taking your bag and setting it down next to the stairs. Suddenly, his mother comes around the corner delicately balancing a tray on both of her arms. "Is that a cake? Tom, why does she have a cake?"

"Well..." he says taking you by the hand leading you closer to the table. "I told them that it was your birthday just last week and they wanted to throw you a little party."

You put one hand over your heart as you watch Nikki light the candles. "Aw, you guys didn't have to do all this," you say with your voice full of soft emotions.

His mother smiles brightly at you. "Nonsense! You're family! We celebrate every member’s birthday 'round here," she says in such a mother-like tone that your heart melts further.

After blowing out the candles and everyone having a slice, you slowly mingle with each other while eating more cake. You were talking with Nikki and Dominic while Tom had started to play-fight with his littlest brother Paddy.

You can't help but giggle as you watch him exaggeratedly fall to the ground in defeat. God, you loved him more than anything. Excusing yourself from the two, you head over to make introductions with his brothers.

Paddy was the easy one to get along with. "Just call me Pads like the rest of the family does. You're one of us now," he says with a goofy little grin.

You smiled brightly back at him. "Okay, Pads." You made a show of annunciating his name and he went back to the table for more cake. Turning to Tom, you open your mouth to say something when there's a loud stomp right next to you accompanied by a scream and hands on your shoulders.

You squeal in surprise and turn to see the twins doubled over laughing. "Oh, you guys are real clever," you say as you fall into the laughter with them.

Tom joins you with an arm around your waist and begins to make introductions. You cut him off quickly, wanting to prove that you could remember the difference. "Okay so...you," you say pointing to the one with the slightly darker and longer hair, "are Sam and that makes you Harry." You point at the other as you finish proudly.

The two share a silent glance with unreadable expressions. Your face falls as the first one speaks up. "Actually, I'm Harry and that's Sam," he says with a sigh.

Wide-eyed, you turn to Tom. Your expression falls into that of annoyance as you see him snickering. "Oh, you boys think you're so funny," you say as a mischievous smirk takes up residence on your lips. The two nod while holding back laughter.

"Well, Fred and George," you say menacingly as you slowly pick up your piece of cake in the palm of your hand. "Let's see if you think THIS is funny!"

You launch your cake filled hand at Sam. The cake and icing smush into his face so satisfyingly that you start to laugh uncontrollably. "Oh, they've started a war now!" He chuckles out.

You squeal as he runs to the table and grabs another fistful of cake and throws it at you. You deftly doge to the left, leaving the only thing in its path...Tom. You point and laugh as it explodes all over his throat and chin.

"You think that's funny, yeah?" He says with that smirk and you know you're in trouble. The whole dining room falls into chaos as cake is flying and landing every which way and soon you're all out of breath from laughing and yelling so loud.

The cake looks like it exploded from how many hands have just dug into it. You can't remember the last time you laughed or played that hard with family. After a long shower with Tom to scrub the cake off of each other, you settle into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

"So was it as scary as you thought?" He hums lowly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You shake your head as you bite your lip to contain your grin. "Not at all. In fact...I'm surprised by how much it felt," you pause, looking for the right words.

"Felt like what, darling?"

You smile softly. "How much it felt like home," you let out a short content laugh before continuing, "how much they felt like they were already family. I realized tonight that no matter where we travel...I'll always be home. You're my home, Tom."

"You're my home too, love," he reciprocates as he plants kisses in your hair.

You turn in his arms so that your noses are an inch apart and you’re staring right into his hazelnut eyes. “Let’s get married,” you whisper happily.

“That’s my line,” he says as he rubs his nose against yours. “I accept, nonetheless. We’ll go down to the jewelers once we get back to the states and pick you ou-“

You cut him off by quickly pressing your lips to his. After retracting, you speak again, “No. I don’t wanna until we’re back in the states!”

“Well, I suppose we could find a chapel sometime later this wee-“

“THOMAS STANLEY HOLLAND,” you say his full name to grab his attention.

He looks at you quizzically.

“I cannot spend another second not married to you,” you say as your smile grows wider.

His lips turn upward as well. “It’s the middle of the night, y/n. What do you propose we do? Where are you going?”

You’re already up and out of the bed slipping your shoes on with one hand and googling something on your phone with the other.

“Don’t just lay there! Put your shoes on and call Haz! We’re gonna need a witness...” you begin to mumble as you walk around his room for looking for something, not really knowing what.

He’s totally lost but follows your lead all the same. “Even if I get Haz, who’s gonna marry us at this hour?”

“Are your parents heavy sleepers?” He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak but he’s cut off as you start yelling. “EVERYBODY WAKE UUUUPPPP!!!”

Tom can hear your yelling getting further away as you leave the room and run through the house. Sleepy and grumpy boys shuffle from their rooms rubbing their eyes. While Nikki and Dominic, look concerned as their door flings open.

“What’s going on? What’s happened??”

You turn around quickly to face them. “Tom and I are getting married tonight! And we want the two of you to marry us!” You announce.

Everyone’s faces fall into shocked expressions. Tom finally comes out of the room, phone pressed to his ear. Presumably, on the phone with Harrison.

“Give them whatever they want. We’re doing this thing,” he chuckles as he looks at you adoringly.

You beam proudly. “Okay so you two just click this button right here and you’ll be ordained to marry us!” You jump excitedly with the phone, making it hard for them to press.

It doesn’t take long for Harrison to drive over in his pajamas, still not believing Tom when he said he’s getting married by his parents at 1 in the morning. But, when he walks in and sees you all standing in the wedding positions in the living room he grins.

“So this is a real thing?” He claps Tom on the back as he stands next to his dad and mom. He simply nods, beaming with excitement.

You’re practically vibrating out of your pajamas, you’re so ecstatic. The extremely small ceremony begins and you blush the whole time, eyes never leaving Tom’s.

Finally, and mercifully, it was time for vows.

He looks surprised. “I have nothing prepared-“

“You always do best when you improvise,” you encourage him.

He smiles gratefully at you, seemingly knowing the exact words he’s gonna say now.

“Y/n...you have never once questioned or doubted my ability to do anything. And I mean, anything. Like even the things I was one hundred percent sure I couldn’t do. Just as you have absolute faith in me, I have absolute faith in you. I am one hundred percent sure that you are the only one for me. You accept and love me for who I am, and not what I am...”

You can’t help but tease him a little. “Frog and all,” you giggle. He rolls his eyes, chuckling.

“Frog and all...When I’m with you...we have crazy adventures with lots of laughs even in what seems like a boring situation. You are the only person I would ever want to get married to at 1 am in our pajamas in my living room because you are absolutely the only person I know that would roast me during our vows. I promise to always be your home, even when we aren’t together. I promise to love and support you as you do me. Forever.”

He smiles softly at you. You sniffle, not being able to contain the pure happiness you felt when he said those things. “Don’t cry, love. You’re gonna make me do it, too,” he warns.

You take a deep breath, composing yourself in order to be able to speak.

“Tom...I have never once questioned or doubted you because you have never once proven me wrong about how amazing and wonderful you are. You do those things that you’re one hundred percent sure you can’t and you show me that the impossible is possible. I’ve never met anyone as kind or as understanding as you...”

Your lip quivers and you take a breath again.

“Even though we have crazy adventures and lots have laughs...you don’t stop loving me when I have bad days. The days that I can’t see anything but gray, you sit with me in silence until I can see the colors again. You are the only person who would let me roast them during our vows and yet love me more for it. Your promise is already kept because you are my love, my heart, and my home. I promise to be yours as well. And I promise to love and support you as you do me. Always.”

He reaches over to swipe a tear off of your cheek with his thumb and you do the same to him. You both lean into the other’s hand as they continue, noticing how misty-eyed everyone else has become.

“Do you, Thomas Stanley Holland, take y/n y/m/n y/l/n to be your partner and companion, as long as you both shall live?” Nikki asks trying to keep her voice from faltering.

“Oh, absolutely. I do.” He chuckles.

You begin jumping a bit in your spot, the anticipation killing you.

“Do you, y/n y/m/n y/l/n, take Thomas Stanley Holland to be your partner and companion, as long as you both shall live?” Dominic asks you, having the same quiver in his voice as Nikki.

“Forget as long as we live! You can’t get rid of me that easy, Holland. If I die first, I’m haunting you, and I expect you to do the same!” You chuckle.

Dominic clears his throat a little.“Oh! Yes. I do, I do, I do, I FRICKING do!”

Speaking in harmony his parents close the ceremony. “You may now kis-“

Like supercharged magnets, Tom’s hand finds the back of your neck to connect you to his lips in the softest yet most passionate kiss the two of you had ever shared. Your family claps and cheers in the background as he dips you, kissing you deeper.

“To think...you were scared of meeting my family, y/n,” he says as he looks deeply into your eyes after lifting you up.

You shrug, the giddiness on your face evident. “You’re the one that told me I had nothing to fret. They’re our family now,” you say with a happy sigh.

He rests his forehead against yours as the two of you fall into a fit of giggles.

Discount Avengers Tag List: @sebxstixnstan @holland-haven @secondsineternity @magic-marvel @laurfangirl424 @minnie-marvel @lucky-charms-writes @peter-prkers @greekdemigodwannabe @misslunala @who-the-buck-is-stucky @e-ms-world @hedwigthelegend @marvel-munchkin @sunflowerannawrites

[gotstory]

My 20 Year Old Idol Husband - Day 15 - Her

20 yr old Jungkook, at the top of his idol boyband career, has a secret only he & his bandmates know – An underground relationship, with you, a girl he met at a fanmeeting. Things get a little out of hand and you find out you’re pregnant. 

Read: Day 1 / Day 2 / Day 3 / Day 4 / Day 5 / Day 6 / Day 7 / Day 8 / Day 9 / Day 10 / Day 11 / Day 12 / Day 13 / Day 14 / Day 15 

"What? What?" the confused Jungkook struggled against Jin's grasp. He had been forcefully ushered out of the mart by Jin, whose face was flushed from all the strength needed.

"YAH! When I say move, just MOVE it! Don't you know how heavy you are now that it's taking me my life just to tussle with you?! " Jin frowned at the muscle-laden youngest boy, peppering him with rapid-fire rants.

"Why are we leaving her in there?" Jungkook asked, frowning even more, worried and equally annoyed.

Jin sighed, "did you not hear me say we were followed??"

"But- but, how can we just leave her--"

Cutting Jungkook off, Jin stared hard at him. "Look, young punk, this is the price you both have to pay for getting yourselves in this situation, alright?" with a pat on the back, and a slightly harder push, he quickly shove him into the car and shut the doors.

Indeed, this was really going to be tougher than any of them thought.

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

After what seemed like forever, the cashier placed the last pack of food into the trolley and you heaved a sigh of relief. You looked around hoping to see either Jin or Jungkook.

Thankfully, you spot the tall frame of Jungkook at a corner, masked again, and waiting for you to catch his eye.

You let out a laugh despite the situation, for he was just standing out too much in the sea of lightly dressed shoppers, with blonde hair sticking out from under his black cap. Even under the disguise of his baggy clothes, his good physique was obvious, making your heart skip a beat.

Gosh. It's got to be the hormones.

You signalled for him to walk ahead as you caught up but he gently took over the steer of your trolley instead.

"Hey, we shouldn't be seen together!" you hushed at him, bending low as if it would help.

Just as he wanted to show you how sorry he was, Jin emerged from the car as well, quickly taking you with him while Jungkook loaded up the boot.

"Are you OK? You must have been so shocked, we're sorry." He continued fussing around you for abit, making sure you weren't too startled or anything.

"I'm fine, really, I should've been more alert." You said with a smile and returned his credit card.

"No, you keep it - you'll never know when you need it when we're not around." he said, returning your arm as he continued. "Sorry we had to move out suddenly, I hope you're not too shocked by this, I'd rather err on the safe side."

You smiled, "I know. I'll be more careful from now on too."

All the way back to the dorm, Jungkook wasn't sure what to say. His mind was filled with thoughts about what could have happened if Jin wasn't alert enough.

You tapped him on the arm only to be greeted by the look of a shocked bunny with large eyes.

Your laughter made him smile a little, "What, what? Do I have something on me?"

"No, your shocked face is cute that's all."

Jin at this point could only smile silently, taking peeks at the rear view mirror once in awhile at both of you. You were showing Jungkook photos on your phone while he was engrossed in asking a million questions as always. The sweet and gentle side of Jungkook was one that his older brothers had hardly seen and it amused Jin greatly.

Before you knew it, Jin had pulled up at the basement of the dorm and turned the ignition down.

"We have arrived, lovebirds." He announced dramatically.

"OH!" Jungkook looked up first, "ah hyung your driving skills must have improved so much I hardly felt a thing!"

Jin then put on his sunglasses, "what do you expect? I'm the car-door man. This is just basic."

You were rather amazed at how the oldest and youngest could get along so casually well, poking fun at each other like it was the most natural thing to do.

"You guys are a comedic duo you know that? Now I understand why your fans make endless gifs of you both.

"They do?" asked Jungkook, "and how'd you know?"

Jin raised a brow, "if you played less games, paid more attention to our group chats, and came out of your fancy studio more, you'll realise a lot more things."

The banter continued, one on each of your sides as they carried the bags of groceries, trying to make it look effortless so you wouldn't try to take any of it.  

The 3 of you made your way back to the dorm, and you began to understand the dynamics of their relationship more:

Jin was the sort that would look out for everyone from afar, somewhat like Yoongi, but with a much more childish appeal that sat well with Jungkook and Jimin in particular. He had no airs and it felt like he was always waiting for the right moment to throw in a joke just to make everyone bawl over in laughter.

Taehyung was a bit of a dreamer, doing whatever he wanted at most times, but a total sweetheart. Jungkook had told him many times not to bother you but they would fall on deaf ears as he took you as his new playmate.

Hoseok was the one who was more unpredictable; serious and responsible one second and a total clown on the next. He was definitely the mood maker but when it came to their work, he was on top of it and wouldn't spare to tell any of the guys off.

It was Namjoon you couldn't quite understand but you figured it would just take time.

"Oh Jin-hyung, you're back!"

Taehyung had gotten back from the company and was fiddling with the electronic lock on their main door. Like what they planned to do, he had the passwords changed.

"Hey Chae-rin!" with his wide smile and a cute wave, he stopped what he was doing and started walking towards you from a distance.

Before you could respond, he cupped his hands around his ear and went right for your abdomen, obviously ignoring the fact that it was a rather inappropriate act. You were pretty startled by his advances that you froze in your place.

"YAHHH!!!" Jin screamed in horror, unable to do anything since his hands were full with groceries.

But Taehyung shushed him with a frown and closed his eyes in a feeble attempt to hear something.

Jungkook was just stunned as he too froze in place at his hyung's queer actions. No matter how he had gotten used to Tae, this hyung was still incomprehensible.

"Taehyung-ah, I don't think there would be any sounds..." you whispered. "I know they do this in shows but it's probably not... so soon yet?"

He straightened his back, dejected with a pout. "Oh. Okay... Would you tell me when you start feeling something? I've always wanted to hear what it's like to have a little life inside a tummy."

Giving you a wide smile and earnest eyes, this was a boy you'd never be able to reject.

"I surely will, and you MUST come at once when that happens ok?" You laughed, as he walked you into the house, with Jungkook frowning in disbelief as he followed behind.

Jin heard him mumbling to himself and could only be amused again, "Please allow me to remind you that this is going to continue in the next few months to come. Get used to it."

Once in the dorm, you realise the rest of the members had gone out for their schedules and Jungkook too, had to leave once he put down the groceries. But it wasn't until he made absolutely sure you were not going to be harassed by Taehyung, that he picked up his huge bag again to head to the door.

"Hyung, please... Remember that she's fragile, Ok?" he was nearly pleading at the doorstep, with a hand lingering on your back as you sent him and Jin off. Taehyung was just dismissing him without a word as he started meddling with something else around the walls.

"I'll be okay, Jungkook. Don't worry, I'm safer here than anywhere else, remember?" Your words were a reassurance for him after the slight ordeal today.

He sighed, reluctant to go. "I'll be back before you know it, and if you're bored, just --"

Taehyung cut in quickly, "she's never gonna be bored when I'm here, c'mon!" and with that he waved them off, abruptly putting an end to the goodbyes.

For the next few hours with Taehyung, you got to know even more about the daily habits of the boys, some more embarrassing than the others. From the tough older boy's obsessions with cute toys and online buying, to Jimin's grown up drinking sessions, you realised they were just your regular guys that lived like anyone else - only with alot more unwanted attention.

"Jiminie really loves to go out, and he's got a whole lot of friends. He didn't used to as much and was obsessed with how much he lacked. But things are looking up for us and he's become alot more confident now. It's always good to have friends." Pointing to a recent Polaroid stuck on the fridge, you recognized a few faces as other boyband idols.

"Doesn't he have a girlfriend?" you asked.

Tae shook his head, "None of us do. We just don't have the time. That's why when we knew about you and Jungkook, we were shocked that he made it happen in such a short time that we were traveling, and could continue on even while you were apart. We thought it was going to die down after awhile since most girls wouldn't be able to handle it but I guess, hyung was wrong about it."

"Hyung? Which one?" You asked.

"Namjoonie. He really didn't think you'd actually stick around long enough and he's actually the most worried one about this whole moving in thing." He explained.

Your equally concerned expression gave it away to the regret of a flustered Taehyung.

"AH. No-no, it's--no, I didn't mean to say it that way - I meant that, you know -- It's like -- erm..."

You had to force a smile, "It's ok Taehyung, he's probably right. Plus, he knows the situation best, this isn't going to work out in the long run either, I can't possibly live here all that long can I?"

As if in deep contemplation, you could almost see thought bubbles of different scenarios going through his mind until a light bulb lit up like an idea.

"Why not? We could be 6 uncles to little baby kookie, no? I'll treat him or her so well... and..." before his imagination ran wild, you took a deep audible breath and put a stop to it.

"No. Think about it Tae, it's only a matter of time that your manager finds out there's a girl living with you guys. Before that happens, I have to move and Jungkook needs to come clean with the company so they can sort out any potential rumours that start surfacing. In another 8 months or goodness knows when, I'm gonna have to deliver somewhere and there's gonna be huge medical bills and lots of health care matters to take care of. Furthermore, we're gonna have to be married, registering the baby, and eventually the baby needs to go to school and I need to get a job to support us too. Can you imagine that happening here? In this dorm?"

You saw Taehyung's eyes fall as he realised in silence that it probably wasn't going to happen.

"Chae-rin," he called out carefully. "but... are you sure you're ready for all this?"

You gulped.

No, Taehyung, I'm freaking terrified and wish that this was just a dream.

You wanted to be honest but you found yourself saying something else.

"I will be. Without or without Jungkook."

A/N :)

Thanks guys for waiting up forever and if you’re still reading this, I just wanted u to know I’ve already started to write #16 and am halfway done.

For being such sweethearts, I made 2 Jimin lockscreens! (yes, that rude one).

Download it here (full glory colour) & here (muted, less rude) - with a little reminder for you to always #LoveYourself !!

[language-rxgers]

Best Boyfriend You’ve Never Had (Bucky x Reader)- Part 6

Summary: You and Bucky share a moment that completely affects your mindset, Bucky tries a pumpkin spice latte for the first time, and an unexpected visitor from your past may spell some trouble for the future...

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Reader, OFC Trish, OFC Catherine, OMC Thomas, {OMC Brandon, OMC Jesse, OMC Ben, OMC Mike, OMC Max}- mentioned, OMC Ryan

Warnings: angst, self-doubt, conflicting thoughts, maybe a few swears

Word Count: 3343

A/N: This took so long, I am soo sorry! Please enjoy, lovelies!

Masterlist

Part 5 (Previous) / Part 7

*not my gif, credit goes to the rightful owner*

Drumroll.

The moment seemed to last forever, the drumroll just rolling and rolling and rolling. However, instead of the giddiness and anticipation you should have been feeling, you only felt the crushing pressure welling up in your chest, every expectation and thought that had flown through your mind when it came to Bucky now whirling around like a rampant flurry in your head. It was too much, too much pressure for it to be perfect, too much pressure for it to lead to more, too much pressure for you to meet all of his own expectations. It was just too much.

Almost as if an electric shock had sparked between the two of you, you and Bucky sprang apart in almost perfect unison, both panting hard. “I’m sorry, Bucky, it’s too much pressure,” you started, but Bucky spoke at the same time as you.

“This is too intense!” You both met each other’s eyes, suddenly breaking into chuckles of relief. “So I’m not crazy for feeling like my brain is about to explode from the pressure?” Bucky gave you an apologetic grin. You pushed your hair out of your face, shaking your head.

“No, that was insane. It was just too much, y’know?” Bucky nodded in agreement. You ran your hands over your face.

“How about this,” the brunette started. “What if we just do it really quickly? Like a quick peck or something to get rid of the pressure?” You barked out a laugh.

“Like ripping off a Band-Aid?”

“Like ripping off a Band-Aid,” he agreed. “And then the pressure of the first kiss is gone, ‘cause we already had one. Don’t get me wrong, doll, I really want to kiss ya, but I want it to be easy and without pressure. I want it to be great.” A deep flush spread through your cheeks.

“Well, you certainly are a dedicated fake boyfriend.” You whispered it more to remind yourself that it was all for show, but it still reached Bucky’s ears. He spread a smile across his cheeks.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied. You shook your head to clear your thoughts.

“Okay, let’s do this. We’ll do a quick kiss on the count of three. But maybe we just need to do more couple-y things, get into the swing of it first, before we can kiss more naturally. How about tomorrow we have a date-day. Go out in the city, get coffee, lunch, go shopping or something.”

Bucky nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Okay, here we go,” he placed his hands on your waist, taking a big breath and shimmying. You laughed.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting the ants outta my pants, let’s go.” You mouthed out an amused ‘okay’ at his initiative. “One,” he started.

“Two,” you continued.

“Three,” he finished, and the two of you swooped forward, meeting brilliantly with teeth on lips and noses knocking together. The two of you groaned in pain, hands flying to sore mouths. You felt shock shake through you. You’d expected something fleeting, too quick to remember, maybe a little chaste. This was worse than any first kiss you’d imagined with Bucky. “Oh, my God. That was the worst kiss I’ve ever given,” Bucky whispered. You chuckled. He composed himself again. “Retry.”

You shook your head in amusement, preparing yourself again.

“One, two, three.” You both leaned forward again, only to knock foreheads. “What the fuck?!” Bucky groaned out. “I’m sorry, doll, I swear that I can do better, I guess I’m just more nervous than I thought,” the blue-eyed soldier shook his head, an embarrassed smile gracing his lips. You put a hand on his arm.

“Don’t worry about it, Buck. I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. I’m nervous too.” You felt a surge of courage swell in your chest, and you took a leap. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Just do it, Barnes.”

He chuckled, and his icy blue eyes disappeared under his long dark lashes as he closed his lids. You took a deep breath, placing a hand on his cheek and the other on his chest. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you leaned forward, closing your own eyes in the process.

Your lips met his in a gentle embrace, and in the moment you realized how long it had been since you’d kissed someone. You forgot how inexplicably wonderful it was, feeling soft lips moving against your own, sharing a breath, a thought, a moment frozen in time. You squeezed your eyes tighter shut before breaking away, feeling a rush of adrenaline shoot through your veins at your sudden boldness. Your lips still tingled with the feel of Bucky’s lips ghosted over yours, the slight scratch of his stubble and the press of his nose against your cheek. While the kiss had been unlike any you’d had before, the best part was immediately after, seeing Bucky’s lips slightly parted and eyes still closed in a daze. He was still leaning forward, and his hands were still on your waist, holding you as if he never wanted to let go.

You watched Bucky in anticipation, suddenly terrified that the kiss hadn’t been as beautiful for him as it had for you. “Wow…” he whispered. “I think you’re a lot better at this than I am, doll.” You breathed out a laugh, resting your head against his chest. “I definitely think that I’ll need some more practice.” You smacked his arm, laughing at your best friend as he circled his arms around you. “Okay,” he sighed. “I think this has been enough intensity for one day. What do you say we get settled in bed and watch a movie?” You smiled up at him.

“Sounds like a plan, Bucky-O-Boy.” As Bucky went to change in the bathroom across the hall, you replayed the kiss again in your head. You could feel yourself flushing, a giddy smile undying on your features as your fingers ghosted over your lips. Oh God, if you weren’t in deep before, you were six feet under by now.

“So, m’lady, where to on this fine day?” You hooked an arm with Bucky’s, strolling down the main streets of your hometown.

“Well, this is downtown from where I lived, so I didn’t come here too often growing up since it was such a hassle, but there is one café I always loved to visit when I was in this part of the city. They’ve got these unbelievable pastries, Bucky, you won’t believe it.” Your eyes took in the bustling downtown area around you as you spoke, feeling as though while it had obviously changed, the atmosphere was still as lively as ever. “And their hot chocolate is just to die for. Their coffee’s great too, but I’ve always personally been more of a chocolate fan. Anyways, we can go there for lunch- they had a really good tomato spinach panini sandwich when I still lived here, hopefully they still have them.” Bucky combed his gloved fingers through his hair, ruffling it a bit before tucking the loose strands behind his ear.

“That sounds great, doll. Lead me away.”

The café was still tucked in the small corner it had always been, between a bookstore and what had once been an antique store but was now a wedding dress shop, go figure. You snorted at the café’s new neighbour, walking up to the door. Bucky reached for the brass handle and pulled it open, jingling a bell inside. You thanked him as he stepped back and allowed you to enter first. When you first stepped in, your senses were comforted by the aroma of ground coffee beans and fresh baked pastries, the soft and calm chatter of patrons filling the atmosphere with a comforting separation from the busy streets outside. You and Bucky waited behind a short, stout woman who was ordering in front of you. Your eyes scanned the menu board above the counter, neat handwriting listing different beverages both hot and cold, sandwiches and desserts galore. Your attention was immediately drawn to their famous tomato spinach panini, which was now available with mozzarella cheese, which had you nearly salivating. You turned to Bucky, who was still expressively reading the menu, eyebrows shooting up in interest at certain options and furrowing at others.

He leaned towards you, frowning in confusion. “What’s a pumpkin spice latte?” He asked quietly, as if embarrassed that he didn’t know. You rubbed his arm absentmindedly as you explained.

“It’s a latte- espresso and steamed milk- that’s flavored with different spices that give it a fall-type pumpkin-y taste. Like cinnamon, nutmeg, so and so, and it’s topped with whipped cream and pumpkin purée. It’s a classic fall drink, everyone goes crazy for them because they’re seasonal. Unfortunately, it’s come to be branded a ‘white-girl drink’ which ruins the enjoyment of them because they’ve become so basic.”

Bucky pondered this information, shrugging. “I can be a basic white girl.” You burst out laughing, clutching your chest and stomach.

“Oh, you sweet smol bean, of course you can.” The till opened for you to order, and Bucky once again stepped back to let you order first. You smiled graciously and approached the counter, ordering a hot chocolate and tomato spinach panini with mozzarella cheese. Bucky then stepped up behind you.

“Hi, could I please have a pumpkin spice latte, a bacon tomato sandwich and a bear claw? Thank you.” You opened your wallet to pay when Bucky gasped dramatically and plucked the cash from your hand, shoving it back in your purse.

“What the hell are you doing? I’m treating my girl to lunch, that doesn’t really work very well when she thinks she’s gonna pay.” He took out his own wallet and handed the barista his money, dropping the change in the tips jar without a second thought. “Jeez, (Y/N), you’re gonna make me look bad here.”

You rolled your eyes, but you felt your heart flutter at his action- however minimal, it was very chivalrous. You found a table by the window and sat down, eagerly watching Bucky in anticipation. He raised an eyebrow at you. “What? Something on my face, doll? Because the last time I ate was at brunch this morning with your family, so if you’ve been letting me walk around like a jackass with syrup on my face all morning-“ you shook your head, laughing.

“No, I want to see your reaction when you try a PSL.” You made a goofy face as you used the slang ironically.

Bucky froze. “P-S-L?” He sounded out each letter, incredulous. “What the hell is that?”

“A pumpkin spice latte, dumbass. It’s what all the basic white girls call it, and if you’re gonna be basic, you gotta call it by its basic name.” The blue eyed soldier narrowed his eyes at you.

“Saying I’m getting a PSL sounds like I’m undergoing an invasive medical procedure. I’m drinking a pumpkin spice latte, not getting a lobotomy.” You pursed your lips and gestured for him to taste it. He rolled his eyes and brought the cup to his lips, sniffing it before taking a cautious sip. He smacked his lips tastefully a few times, as if tasting an aged wine, and then his faux-concentrating expression melted away into incredulity. “It’s like fall threw up in my mouth,” he said in disbelief, taking another sip. You laughed.

“So you like it?”

“Doll, I don’t even know, but I can’t stop drinking it.” You watched fondly as he took a deep sip, disregarding its hot temperature, and set it back down, revealing a frothy whipped cream moustache coating his upper lip and the tip of his nose. You chuckled, and his attention was turned to you. “What now?”

“Now you really do have something on your face, soldier,” you quipped. He groaned and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, removing most of the whipped cream save for the bit on his nose. You gestured to your own nose to show him where it still was, and he wiped just under it. You shook your head. “Here, may I?” He simply nodded, and you cupped the side of his face, swiping your thumb across the tip of his nose, wiping off the remaining whipped cream. You wiped off your thumb and took a sip of your hot chocolate before digging into your sandwich, completely oblivious to the adoring look in Bucky’s baby blue eyes.

Over the next week, you and Bucky went on outings every day, exploring different parts of the city. Bucky was never less than a gentleman, holding open doors, pulling out chairs, and always keeping an arm around you in the more questionable parts of town despite your familiarity with them. With each outing, you saw a different part of Bucky, like the cuts of a diamond, which all fit together perfectly to expose the man you now knew you loved. You couldn’t help it, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it was just the wedding messing with your brain. But that excuse didn’t work too well considering the trip had only confirmed the feelings you’d already had festering inside since the day you’d met the blue-eyed brunette. His face showed more expression and feeling than you’d ever seen as you showed him the parts of the city that reflected who you were, and you saw more and more of the bright-eyed, free-spirited boy Steve had known him as before the ice.

Every time you closed your eyes, you experienced that kiss you’d shared in your room over and over again, and every time, all you felt was a comforting warmth you’d never known before, spreading through your veins right down to your toes. You wanted to kiss him again, so bad, just to see if there really had been a spark or if you had imagined it after building it up so much in your mind. You hadn’t kissed since then, but every now and then Bucky would plant a soft kiss in your hair or on your cheek while around your family.

(just to keep up the ruse)

(don’t get any ideas, (y/n/n) this is all just for show for him)

In the week leading up to your sister’s wedding, you were busier than ever helping her prepare, which meant you rarely had Bucky to yourself after lunch and before 7 in the evening. But he had settled in quite nicely with your family, getting on well with your father and Thomas. The three of them were often off doing “man bonding or whatever,” as your father so endearingly called it. Usually playing darts or pool in the garage- your dad’s man cave, working on your father’s ancient motorcycle, or helping Thomas finish some of the errands Catherine had assigned him. Thomas’s groomsmen, whom you’d met at brunch at the beginning of your visit, consisted of his three brothers, cousin and best friend, and were all nice enough but rambunctious as ever when together.

Bucky seemed to be slightly more wary of this group, often sticking closer to your side when you were all together. You caught on after the first few times he had done this, and you had a good idea as to why. Thomas’ younger twin brothers, Brandon and Jesse, were still very much bachelors and were quite the pranksters. However, the eldest brother, Ben, was happily married and every inch the father-figure of the family, and Thomas’ best friend Max had been around since they were kids, so they were quite good at keeping the twins in line. The wild card was the cousin, Mike, who was not only the instigator of many of the twins’ shenanigans, but was a playboy to boot.

It was hard to miss the way Bucky’s metal arm found its way around your waist whenever Mike was around, the way he’d shuffle his vibranium digits to catch the light and remind Mike to back off when he was being a little too charming with you. You, of course, thought it was hilarious the way Mike’s eyes would shift from smug to uneasy whenever the dark haired soldier did this, but you also found it intriguing that Bucky was acting this way in the first place. Mike’s flirting was harmless; Thomas had assured you that while he was naturally inclined to playfully flirt, it wasn’t serious and he respected that you were with Bucky. You had to give Buck props though, he was really killing the whole ‘jealous boyfriend’ thing. Last week’s ‘dates’ had certainly paid off for getting the fake relationship down to a T. This thought occurred to you with a fleeting reminder of the impermanence of this arrangement.

At this point, you were in so deep with these impossibly consuming feelings for Bucky that you longed for the end of the wedding. It was torture to be so close to him with that glass wall still keeping him out of your reach, a cruel reminder that for him it was still all for show. It wasn’t fun and games for you anymore, but you knew it was your fault in the first place. You never should have let your feelings for him get this far. You should have nipped it in the bud and conditioned yourself to see him as only your friend from the beginning. Now, here you were, faking yet another laugh as your father recounted a childhood memory to your family around the dinner table, Bucky’s warm and calloused hand gripping yours on the table between your dinner plates. How could his touch burn agonizingly hot and be so freezing cold at the same time?

The wedding was in two days, and all you could think about as you watched the blue eyed soldier take a sip of his water was how wonderful those lips had felt on your own last week. You chastised yourself. Why couldn’t you just let it go? It had been nothing but practice for Bucky, an exercise to really nail this fake relationship front. It was probably a distant memory in his mind by now, but for you it was the only thought in your head. You cleared your throat quietly as you took another bite of the lasagna you had helped your mother make that evening.

Your brain hurt

(two more days)

nearly as much as your heart, but you shoved it down and kept up your smile.

The doorbell rang as you all started cleaning up after dinner, and you sprang up from your seat to go answer it. “Oh, I think that’s Thomas’s friend from college, he said he’d be stopping by to say hi tonight,” Catherine called from the kitchen.

You unlocked the door and pulled it open, only to have the wind knocked out of you at who stood on the front porch. The bright hazel eyes, light freckles dancing across a soft-sculpted nose. It took you a moment to process the sight before you, having been certain you’d never see him again after the incident all those years ago.

“Ryan?” You breathed out. The man’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, full lips forming a hint of a smile.

“(Y/N), I didn’t expect to see you here. Thomas didn’t mention you were in town…” He let out a soft, hesitant laugh, almost apologetic, as if he were still apprehensive around you after all those years. “You look really beautiful. Well, you still do, you always did.”

You had no idea how to react to this. Here, standing in front of you, was the last man you had ever considered yourself to love.

(look how well that turned out)

The man who, right now, deserved a door in the face, if not more. But you steeled your expression, straightening your shoulders.

“Hi, Ryan. It’s been a while. Yeah, I flew in last week. It is my sister’s wedding after all. I didn’t know you knew Thomas.”

Ryan nodded, a few strands of light brown hair falling against his forehead. “Yeah, we went to college together. What a small world.”

What a small world indeed.

Part 5 / Part 7

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