#they make me wanna sprawl everything across the floor and make so many pieces in their name

[sea-buns]

the meteors. the goddamn meteors. it's one of those moments that makes you wanna get up and do some crafty shit. like suddenly i wanna develop skills and create a masterpiece y'know?

[captains-simp]

heksbdkshs you’re jock!carol fics give me life, could you do one where jock!carol and the reader have been keeping their relationship a secret and one of those girls that love gossip finds out and like the next day everyone knows ??

You've met soft!jock!Carol. Now it's time for angsty!jock!Carol

4.6k words

Warning: homophobia (plus slurs), bullying, mentions of declining mental health mild violence and some clique high school douchebags (yes that gets a warning)

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You barely looked up when the paper airplane landed swiftly on your desk in front of you. It was only when you caught a glimpse of the red and blue stripe along the side that you spared it a glance. You prodded it with your pen and dragged it across the desk towards you, feeling a pair of eyes watching you eagerly from the back of the class. You unfolded the note carefully until a small sprawl of letters became visible, barely spelling out the word 'purple'.

You bit back a smile at the message and scrunched it up into a tight ball, throwing it in the bin near your desk before going back to writing your notes. You wanted to turn around and meet the eyes you were certain were staring at the back of your head but you knew you couldn't. It had become routine and you swore it was still the hardest part of your day - pretending you didn't notice her.

The bell in the corridor rung loudly and the second it did everyone in the class got up from their seats, ignoring the final reminders from the teacher at the front. Students swarmed into the corridor and amongst the crowd you lost sight of her for a few short moments until the wave of blonde hair appeared ahead of you where she maneuver to the side to be greeted by others in the same blue jacket. You caught her eye for a split second as you went by but it was no more than that. You wished so much that it could have been longer, that you could confidently stroll down those corridors hand in hand with her. A short hug. A brief kiss. A small smile. Anything. You just wished you could have more than fleeting moments with the blonde.

It felt like you could finally breathe properly when you left the suffocating building. The crowd dispersed into smaller groups while you walked out of the school grounds with a slight trot in your step. The further you went the less people you saw until the streets you walked down were near empty. The small corner shop eventually came into sight and you sped up slightly at the sight of your destination, not spying the red car you were always looking out for but knowing she was somewhere close by, she always got there first.

Instead of going into the corner store, you went through the narrow alleyway besides it and around the back of the store. You weren't in a sketchy part of town and even if you were you wouldn't have been afraid of going down the alley, not when you knew who was around the corner waiting for you. You had told her that last time you were there when she had asked you out of sheer curiosity. Apparently she wanted to challenge that truth.

A pair of hands shot out besides your and covered your eyes in an instant, not giving you any chance to stop it. Before you could even give a startled cry, her body pressed firmly against your back and the familiar smell of vanilla surrounded you. Relaxing in her grip, you felt her sway playfully as she leaned forwards to plant soft kisses along your neck. "Guess who?" She mused and you smiled as you tilted your head back for her.

"Hey, Care Bear." Carol groaned against your neck as she pulled her hands away. "I told you not to call me that." She complained, though her smile betrayed her when she spun you around to face her. You instinctively wrapped your arms around her neck as she held your waist softly, kissing you with enough passion to tell you she had been missing you too.

"How'd your test go?" Carol asked between kisses as she guided you backwards to lean against the nearest wall.

"Okay, I passed." You said absentmindedly. "How'd your game go?"

"Okay, I won." She copied and you couldn't help but smile faintly.

"That film you wanted to watch is on tonight, at 11. Wanna go?" The Captain asked as she stopped kissing you to talk properly and kept her hold on you so you stayed close.

"There's show times a lot earlier than 11." You laughed but stilled when Carol scrunched up her nose. "What? You don't want to be seen in public with me?" You teased but there was something very genuine to your question. You felt a familiar pang in your chest when Carol's grip loosened and she looked away.

"Y/n, we've talked about this." Your girlfriend sighed.

"I know, I'm sorry." You muttered as you tried to look as unbothered as possible but knew your face gave away the disappointment you felt so intensely. "You know if I could I would go out at all hours with you, where ever you'd want to go. It's just not that simple." It was hard to truly believe those words when your girlfriend sounded so exasperated, like she was having to explain to a child why they couldn't draw on the walls or have candy for breakfast.

"I know." You said because you really did and you felt guilty for bringing it up.

Carol had told you before you had even started dating her that your relationship would have to be secret. You didn't go to the most gay-friendly school for one thing. There were no openly gay couples there and to be honest you didn't have the nerve to be the first. Carol was content on being popular and you were happy staying under the radar with no intentions to change that. Above all Carol believed it would make securing her scholarship a great deal harder. You were never sure if that was just her fears or if it could really affect it but you respected where she was coming from. That didn't stop it hurting. It didn't stop you envying all the couples that got to openly love their partners. You always reminded yourself that keeping your relationship secret took as much of a toll on Carol as it did on you, she was just far better at hiding it. She was good at hiding a lot.

"Is that a no on the movie?" Carol asked with a strong hint of upset in her voice and unintentionally heart wrenching puppy dog eyes.

"11 right? Sounds like we have a lot of time to kill." You smiled wholly as you glanced at the old blanket fort you had built together months ago, right after you had gotten red and blue slushies that you had spilt on one of the blankets inside and stained purple. That wasn't the only thing that was turned purple that day but was the one that seemed to be permanent.

Carol smiled eagerly and wrapped her arms around you tightly again. "I love you, you know that right?" She asked genuinely and you returned her bright smile.

"Always, and I love you too, Care Bear." Carol rolled her eyes but kissed you softly again, treasuring the feeling of your soft lips against hers and the vague taste of the lunch she had discreetly bought you that day.

*

You swung open your locker door and made to shove as many of your school books inside as you could until you halted at the sight of a small, folded up, piece of paper in the base of your locker. You crammed your books into the tight space and stood as close as you could to it as you unfolded the note, knowing it wasn't for the eyes of the rest of the world. 'East feild field supply shed, lunch' was all it read in the familiarly rushed handwriting. You scrunched the note up and put it in your pocket, locked your locker and made your way down the corridor with a sense of uncertainty in your step. Carol never wanted to meet inside school - it was practically a rule. You would text each other as much as you could and even call if you were lucky, but you were never physically together.

You continued on to the field and walked across as nonchalantly as you could. You only vaguely knew where that specific supply shed was because it was rarely ever used and not to mention half submerged in the woodland bordering part of the field. You glanced around as you neared it and when you were sure no one was near by you dipped behind the back to an awaiting Carol, sat cross legged on the floor and trying to balance a spoon on her nose.

"Hey, are you alright?" You asked hastily as you put your bag down on the floor and stared at your girlfriend in concern.

"Of course I am, you're here." She said simply and held both her hands out to you. You took them with a confused smile as Carol guided you to sit on her lap and cupped your cheek with her hand.

"Are you sure? We don't usually- we never-" Carol pecked your lips to successfully silence you.

"I know, but I missed you too much." She said with a contagious smile. "Really. I just wanted to see you." Your smile grew as you nodded and lent forward slightly to kiss the blonde back.

"I missed you too."

You stayed like that for the rest of your lunch break, enjoying each other's company and embrace as you ignored the rest of the world that wasn't shielded by the old wood around you. It was pretty much perfect. You knew it couldn't become habit so you tried your hardest to just focus on the there and then. Carol seemed to be thinking the same thing, letting her guard down more than she ever had when you had to part days.

The Captain chuckled as she kissed you after backing you into the shed door. You pushed her back lightly with a giggle, feeling giddy from everything happening. "We gotta go." You laughed more when Carol trapped you against the shed, clearly not having any desire to attend her next lesson. "Carol." You scorned, making her pull away only to gaze at you adoringly.

"Okay." She huffed and stepped back to give you space to move. The moment you did she laced your fingers together and held up your hand to her lips, giving the back of it a soft kiss before letting you go. You grinned back at her as you started in opposite directions, your hand still tingling from your girlfriend's soft imprint.

You were both so blissfully unaware of your surroundings you forgot to make a quick check of anyone near by. Neither of you were aware of the eager eyes following both your steps, nor the digital lens that followed with them. However that was something that became very much apparent the next day. The eyes that landed on you as you ventured down the school corridors weren't subtle. They weren't kind either.

You felt like there was a spot light on you everywhere you went and it went on for a while. Some people would look away once you glanced anxiously in their direction while others stared back with a distasteful and all together brutal glare. It was clear that everyone knew something you didn't, something that soon brought your mind to Carol. Where was she?

That was a question you had to wait a while to be answered. Your girlfriend wasn't in any of the few classes you had together, something that wasn't completely unheard of for her but was especially anxiety inducing on that day. It was during lunch break that you finally saw her. You were thrilled and filled with relief when you saw the blonde hair and blue jacketed figure making its way towards you where you sat under a tree on the far edge of the field. However as she got closer and you were able to distinguish the infuriated look upon her face, all the relief drained away. You had seen her angry before. She had been known to have a short fuse and with a team that wasn't the brightest and some games not going the way she would have wanted, you knew what angry Carol entailed. But what you saw that day was something new.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled and you stumbled back a couple of steps in shock.

"W-what?" You fumbled when you realized Carol's new found fury was directed at you.

"What did you do?" She demanded as she advanced to being a short step away from you. Suddenly, having Carol so close didn't hold the comfort it usually did.

"I don't know. I don't know what's going on! Everything was fine until..." you trailed off when the Captain turned her attention to her phone. You glanced between her and the screen, not understanding why she suddenly didn't want to pay you any attention. However, when she showed you her screen your heart dropped. Any other couple wouldn't have minded the picture. They may even have loved it. You and Carol couldn't take a moment to admire the moment that was captured, because you both knew what it meant. You were so close together in the photo, arms tightly around each other as you shared a kiss. You were unbreakable. Were...

"Who... how did they..." You barely managed to speak, feeling far too numb.

"You tell me, y/n." Carol crossed her arms defensively and continued to glare right into your eyes. You thought that hurt more than anything else that had happened that day and honestly ever.

"I didn't do this." You whispered, too shocked to fully comprehend what your girlfriend was accusing you of.

"You wanna rethink that answer? Because this secret has always bothered you a lot more than it has for me." What? You felt sick at hearing her words. You had spent the whole relationship thinking, fooling yourself into believing that it was both sided. How much did she care?

"There was a time you wouldn't fucking shut up about it for two seconds and no matter how many times I explained to you why we couldn't go running around holding hands like goddamn kinder-gardeners you still couldn't get it through your skull that is was the smart decision. Do you not like what's happening today, y/n? Does it upset you?" She gritted in a sickeningly mocking tone that you had never heard before. It was just plain cruel. "Well buckle the fuck up because it's going to get a hell of a lot worse, especially for me. You'll be happy though, won't you? This is what you wanted." Carol finished, chest heaving and eyes ablaze. That was all you could really make it through your teary eyes.

"No this isn't what I wanted." You started to sob as you reached out for Carol's hand but she smacked it away hard. You recoiled in alarm and tried again. "Please Carol, I would never do this. I just wanted what you did." Carol scoffed at your pathetic attempt at explaining yourself, far from believing you in your hysteric state.

"Fuck off." She spat as she gave you one final glare and turned sharply on her heels to leave you were stood. Alone.

"Carol, please!" You begged but the blonde had had enough.

"Stay away from me." She shouted back and you stopped in your tracks, only able to watch her leave.

"No." You whimpered in defeat and dropped to your knees, breaking down in tears as you felt like your world was crumbling around you and there was nothing you could do to fix it. There wasn't even anyone who could help you through it anymore.

*

Carol was right. Things did get a lot worse after that, in a lot of different ways. Your heartbreak was the worse thing. You spent every moment you weren't in school curled up in bed, soaking your sheets and pillows with tears, scolding yourself for everything that had gone wrong. You knew, deep down, that it wasn't you fault, that it was Carol who was entirely in the wrong but you found it impossible to hate her. It would have been so much easier if you had been able to. It might have hurt less.

School was a much worse place to be. You saw Carol every day but a word was never passed between you. Anytime you caught her eye she looked away quicker than you could read her so it was hard to tell if she still hated you. All you knew was you weren't her favourite person. That was one thing, but the bullying was something else. It was relentless, ranging from everything between graffitied slurs on your locker to being shoved into them. Your grades dropped and your mental health declined with it.

"Move, fag." You gave a low 'oof' as you were tripped into the railings along the stairs. You held your stomach and winced at the instant throbbing pain there. You avoided the eyes you knew were on you but when you risked a glance up you saw the blonde you weren't sure if you were avoiding or not. You held her gaze longer than you had since she had broken your heart, your breath catching in your throat when you saw the undeniable pity written across her face. In that moment you found yourself wanting to go up to her. What you would do or say you weren't sure of, maybe it would have come to you got there.

You took a bold step forwards until you were cut off by a junior who gave you the first friendly smile you had seen in a while. You didn't trust it at all, like it was a mask worn by the devil himself to trick you. "Hey." He greeted. You opened your mouth to speak but you had no clue of what to say. "I just wanted to say I thinks it's pretty cool what you did." He said simply.

"What I did?" You asked slowly and he nodded back with the same smile.

"The picture." He clarified. You clenched your jaw and peered over at the blonde who was still watching you cautiously. "I know it wasn't you choice to have it taken or anything." He rushed when he noticed your defensive stance. "And I can't imagine what you're going through right now." He added with a sympathetic look. "But seeing you guys together in a town that isn't exactly the best place for it has given a lot of us a some hope. Most of the world is becoming more acceptant, it's only a matter of time before things change here too, even if you're not here when it does." He shrugged before getting distracted by someone in the corridor. "Plus you guys are a cute couple." Ouch. He smiled at you and waved at his friend as he made to leave.

"I gotta go but I hope I see you around." You nodded slightly as you pondered his words. You glanced at Carol and was surprised to still see her standing by her locker, it felt like some strange stand off and you wondered if she had heard what the junior had said to you. She wasn't that far away by the corridor was beginning to get crowded and loud.

You made to walk towards Carol but the second you did she took off like a startled deer. You sighed as you watched her go. Maybe it was for the best that you stay out of each other's way after all. Despite whatever the hell had just happened, the blonde's last words to you played as clear as ever in your head. They still made your heart ache as much as it did the first time around.

Things didn't change between you and Carol after that. It was hard, near impossible on some days, but you started to try and get over her. You didn't want to forget and you certainly didn't want to regret it because until the end, your relationship with Carol was the best thing that ever happened to you. Knowing that made it so much harder to move on. Not to mention a large part of you didn't even want to. You loved Carol. Making yourself fall out of love with her was just as difficult as when you had tried to stop yourself falling in love her nearly a year prior.

Given the absence of progress between you and the Captain, you honestly thought you were hallucinating when she called your name one day after school. You spun around in every direction to find her, something that wasn't that hard when she came jogging towards you. "Can we go somewhere more private?" She asked as she glanced at the onlookers. You nodded quickly, your mouth and throat feeling far too dry for you to even attempt to speak.

You walked in an extremely awkward silence towards the field. You were waiting for Carol to speak first and you were hoping she wasn't thinking that you would do the same thing given she had approached you. Unless she had done it on a whim, you really hoped not. It was only when you were alone that she piped up.

"I'm sorry." She blurted out. You glanced at her in surprise, an apology was the last thing you were expecting. "I'm so so sorry. I was so stupid- beyond stupid. What I did was something I promised I never would and I hate myself every moment for it." You stared at the blonde blankly as she continued to ramble away. You had never seen her so frantic and you were so taken off guard by it you didn't have a chance to notice the irony of what was happening and how drastically the roles had been reversed.

"I was just so scared and that's not an excuse I'm just trying to explain." She paused to peer at you properly, waiting to see if you really understood that. You gave her another weak nod. "I didn't know what to do. It felt like I couldn't trust anyone and I got defensive to try and protect myself. I didn't mean any of it. Anything. Especially about not finding the secret hard." That was something you had been longing to hear but once you did you couldn't bring it in yourself to believe her. "There were days I had to stop myself screaming in the corridors or in the cafeteria that I was in love with you. It was even harder not being able to hug or kiss you whenever I wanted to." You listened on intently.

"I just wanted what was best for you and I didn't know what that was." She admitted. You had the sudden strong urge to reach out and hug Carol, but you also wanted to walk away. You didn't get much chance to consider your options because a group of Carol's old friends came sauntering around the corner, eyes lighting up at the sight of you and the Captain.

"Don't stop on our account." One of them snickered.

"If you're gonna dyke out you might as well make a show out of it." Another added. Your skin crawled in discomfort and Carol noticed instantly.

"Fuck off." She spat but the group ignored her.

"You know you probably just haven't had the right dick." The first one said as he eyed you up and down. You backed up and found yourself moving closer to Carol. "I'm sure I could make you straight again." He mused sickeningly and made to grab your wrist but the blonde stepped in front of you.

"I said fuck off. No one wants your two inches, Walker." She challenged and got an instant reaction. He went to swing at Carol but she swiftly kneed him in the groin before he got the chance, barely able to stop herself smirking when he doubled over with a groan. The blonde turned to you and jumped forwards when she saw one of the other boys go to grab you.

"You get the fuck away from her." Acting on pure instinct and adrenaline, Carol swung her fist forwards and caught the jock in the jaw with a crunch. The other boys looked between the two injured and Carol, quickly making their call in grabbing their friends to leave.

Carol turned to you swiftly with worry and concern on every inch of her face. "Are you alright?" She asked as her eyes scanned you for any signs of injury. You gave a shaky yes, avoiding Carol's gaze. "Fuck, this is the kind of thing I was always afraid of, above everything else." She said as she ran a hand through her hair. You caught sight of her red fist and without any thought, took ahold of her hand gently. You ran your fingers over the redness softly, not realizing you were crying until a tear dropped down onto Carol's hand. At the sight of it you broke down crying more.

"Oh ba- y/n." The blonde sighed, heart breaking in smaller pieces at the sight of you. It hurt even more to see when she wasn't sure if she could hug you or not. Luckily for her she didn't have to feel useless for long because you reached out for her and clung onto her jacket as you buried your face into her chest, crying harder. "I've got you. It's okay, they're gone." She cooed. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again." You knew she was thinking of herself more than the boys when she said that.

You stood like that for a while, crying against Carol as she rubbed your back and continued to whisper reassurances to you. "Promise." You hiccuped between sniffles.

"I promise." She said instantly. You slowly pulled away to read Carol properly, watching closely for any tell of a lie and finding none. "Could you give me another chance?" The blonde asked, barely above a whisper as she feared your response. She would respect it entirely if you said no, but she really hoped you wouldn't. "There won't be anymore secrets and I'll never be a dick to you ever again."

"I'm scared." You admitted and Carol nodded tightly as she fought back tears herself.

"Me too." She admitted. "We don't have to stay here." You lifted your head up to look at Carol clearly and she continued. "We could leave, go where ever we want. There's only a couple months left of this shithole."

"A couple months." You repeated. Carol nodded encouragingly, desperate to find a bright side and winning point.

"Could you do a couple more months here?" She asked carefully and you nodded after a few seconds.

"Lets do it." You said with a sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck, really?" She laughed lightly and you found yourself doing the same.

"Yeah." You smiled. "I can't stop loving you and I don't want to." Tears started to fall down Carol's cheeks. You cupped her face gently and wiped the tears away with your thumbs. The blonde's own hands held yours as she smiled down at you.

"I love you too." With a sudden, unexpected, burst of confidence, you leaned forwards and kissed Carol longingly. She deepened the kiss instantly and wrapped her arms around your waist to keep you as close as possible, like she never wanted to let you go again.

"Everything's gonna work out." She whispered once she pulled away to rest your foreheads together.

"Of course it is." You smiled softly. "You'll be with me."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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[ickle-ronniekins]

when all hope seems lost

desc: George finds himself to be lost: his business, merchandise and home have been destroyed in the war and his twin brother is still healing from a battle wound that could’ve been fatal. He’s living temporarily in a flat in a desolate looking neighborhood, and he’s desperate for anything to feel like it used to be. It seems as though all hope is lost, until he meets someone who reminds him that he’s got to endure the darkness to be able to appreciate the light.

A/N: yaknow i hate myself sometimes because whenever i just wanna write ~one fic~ i always add WAY TO MUCH INFORMATION and need to make it either a two-partner or a series smh why can’t i write shorter pieces man??? also this is me just feeding my feelings sorry.. i know some other friends need some light too so hopefully this two part (maybe more?) mini-series can help you a bit, too

pairing: george x fem!american!reader

word count: 1.9k

warning(s): mentions of war, anxiety, mental health

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley | message me to be added!

When it seemed as though every bit of light had been drained from the universe, you wondered whether the pavement beneath your feet would implode, catapulting you into some other world, some other place where maybe the darkness wasn’t so evident.

George was wallowing again, letting his unhappiness swallow him whole, the happiness he always seemed to emanate now diminished by the hollowness he felt inside of his chest. What had happened to him? How had it come to this? How had he let his desires go by the way side? Why had he given into the melancholy feeling overtaking him?

You wondered whether things would ever go back to normal. Though the war had taken place in England, it hadn’t stopped the following of the most dangerous wizard in all the world to make their way to America. They’d stopped at nothing. Not that you were surprised, really. You’d heard just how awful things had been across the pond. It was no wonder that they’d seemingly wiped out half of the population and then headed for the states, looking to inflict more damage upon the Wizarding community.

A sharp honking noise came from round the bend, but George didn’t move. He stood, feet cemented firmly into the cobblestone as he peered up at his shop; or rather, what was left of it. A few measly bricks and the siding that had been blasted open, showcasing the inner lining of the shop, their flat above it, and all of the products that had been destroyed along with it. The following of Voldemort hadn’t been kind. If he’d been there, if he hadn’t been at Hogwarts, he could’ve saved it -- Fred could’ve saved it --

You peered around the desolate little street you now found yourself on. Though the war had ended, the damage was still very prominent. Here you were -- halfway around the world, no job, no home, no life plans on the horizon, for they’d been smashed to smithereens the same way your tiny little home had been. You wondered if England would be the better choice than America. A wave of doubt surged through your bones, and you very quickly scratched at your head to try and ignore it as you made your way toward your new home.

Fred was busy at the Burrow. After his almost near experience with the great beyond, Molly had insisted that he come home. He hadn’t been too resistant, actually. He reckoned he could use some time there. George, however, desperately searched for a new place -- at least for a little while. A new place for himself, until Fred got better, and they could go back to their plans. Though, now, as he angrily clenched his fists inside of his pockets, the foreboding feeling of doubt swept through his mind, and he wondered if he and Fred would ever be able to replenish all that they’d lost.

Your suitcase clicked rather annoyingly against the cobblestone. You stopped and took an exaggerated deep breath, threading your brows together as you looked up at your new home: a tiny little apartment right on the outskirts of London. It was freshly painted a very stark white; it was beautiful, but nothing like what you were used too. It wasn’t just a new apartment -- it was a whole new world. England was too far from America, and every aspect of home felt as though it were light years of miles away.

George opened up the door to the room of his new flat: it was desolate looking -- bare walls, muted colours, a sort of dryness he wasn’t fond of, and he knew Fred wouldn’t be either. There was absolutely nothing exciting about this place. He set down his trunk in the corner and stood there for a few moments, half in a sort of daze and half in denial. He then threw his jacket onto the bed and made way toward the kitchen to make himself a much needed cup of tea.

You were busy tracing your hands over countertop in the kitchen when someone scared you. A redheaded man stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with confusion as they glanced over you. He was tall and lanky; he desperately needed a haircut (or a hair taming, rather) and appeared as though he hadn’t caught much sleep in days. You stuck out your hand to introduce yourself: right. You forgot you’d be sharing a home. With a stranger. From England.

“Hi.” George’s voice sounded weirdly firm and unfriendly in his own ears. He cleared his throat a bit and forced a smile onto his face; in his desperation to find a place to temporarily live, he’d forgotten that he’d agreed to another flatmate. He slid his hand into yours and shook gently. “I’m George. Nice to meet you.”

By the puzzled look on his face, you wondered if he knew he was going to get a  roommate. A female roommate. An American female roommate. You figured probably not, because he seemed to be caught rather off guard when he walked into the kitchen and nearly froze on the spot. The startled expression cleared from his face, and he offered a rather genuine looking grin. You introduced yourself right back. “Nice to meet you.”

George found himself in a better mood when he realized that you were bound to be a good flatmate: you were tidy, didn’t have as many belongings as he’d imagined, and offered to shower either morning or night, it didn’t really matter to you -- whatever worked best for him. He was grateful to how accommodating you were being right off of the bat, especially when he felt as though his entire world was collapsing. But when he wandered past your room that first night and saw you sprawled out on the floor, hurriedly going through your belongings and peering down at what seemed to be some type of photographs, he wondered if you were possibly going through something, too. He pretended not to notice when you dabbed at your eyes.

It was nearing midnight, and you forced yourself to place back into your suitcase all photographs of your home -- or, the home you once had. It wasn’t doing you any good looking through them; if anything, it was just making the move to London that much more difficult. Suddenly, a gentle knock pulled you from your thoughts: George was standing at the entrance of your room, two cups in his hands. “I normally have a bit of tea before I head off to bed, and well.. you looked like you could use some. Hope I’m not overstepping.”

George was glad to see the grin that appeared on your face at the sight of him holding two steaming cups of tea. He watched you quickly got up from the floor and pull your hair back into a ponytail. “Thank you,” you told him, cautiously blowing on your tea to cool it. George figured now would be a good a time as any for a casual conversation, since it didn’t look like you’d be going to bed anytime soon. “So -- America? What brings you to England?”

He caught you off guard when he asked this. When you turned back around to look at him, he was casually leaning against the doorframe. His eyes looked much more awake than when you’d first met; it seems as though your foreignness had piqued his interest. Gently, you offered, “My home was destroyed. In the war. Crazy how everything that had started over here wandered all the way over to the states. Lost my job. Lost other...personal things.” You cleared your throat a bit and watched as George bit down on his lip; he seemed to understand. “Figured it was time for a fresh start, you know? New place, new adventure. Though I suppose I could’ve just moved to another state instead of across the country. But hey, England seemed as lovely a place as any, right?” You chuckled a bit before continuing, the first genuine laugh you’d had in months. “How about you? What brings you to this little apartment?”

“I’m so sorry. That’s awful.” George felt a tightness in his throat at your words. He hadn’t expected you to be so frank right off the bat. He wondered if all Americans willingly told intimate details of their lives to complete strangers. Though it was sort of strange to him, he felt as though it was an opening. He bravely took a step forward. “My reasoning isn’t any happier than yours, I’m afraid. I own a business with my brother -- the war destroyed nearly all of it and my flat above it. Fred’s back at my mum and dad’s; he was poorly hurt. I’m kind of on my own for the time being, struggling to find which way is up. That’s how I ended up here.”

“I’m so sorry.” A sudden wave of sadness took you over. You wanted to reach out and grab his hand and squeeze it, seemingly letting George know that you knew, sort of, how he felt. You’d both lost things due to the war. You’d both had to find a way to start over. You resisted the urge and instead sipped again on your tea. You lifted your eyebrows in shock. “It’s strange, the aftermath. It’s startlingly much worse over here than it is back home.”

George found himself laughing, genuinely giggling, for the first time since before the war. “England hasn’t scared you off, has it? I promise, it normally doesn’t look this bloody dismal. And, well, this little area on the outskirts of London really did take quite a hit. Not my first choice in terms of places to live, but I reckon for the time being, it’ll do.”

You swore you caught a bit of a glimmer in his eye, and you wondered how long it’d been since it had been there. George didn’t seem like a particularly melancholy kind of guy, but you knew that with his business destroyed, his brother hurt, his home demolished that he was entitled to a few (or more than a few) bad days. You peered out of your window to see the little rain covered cobblestone street, lit by nothing but the pale light of the street lamps, and breathed in gently. No, England hadn’t scared you off -- dismal looking or not. It had actually turned out to be much nicer than you’d imagined. You nodded at George, who offered up another small grin. “It’ll do.”

When George went to bed that night, he fiddled around with a few test products he and Fred had been placing the finishing touches on. He sucked in multiple breaths to stop himself from crying and just tried to remind himself constantly that they’d work it out. Fred would get better, they’d repair the damage, they’d create new products, their flat would be fixed. When he said all of it in the same breath, it sounded like too much for two blokes to handle. So he tried to focus on one thought at a time. Right. Fred will get better, after some much needed rest. George could handle being in this flat. It would give him time to work out logistics and design more products in all this new free time he had. He glanced to his bedside table and noticed a copy of The Quibbler underneath his wand, and his trunk in the corner of the room. The furnishings actually sort of reminded him of his dormitory at Hogwarts, and he chuckled to himself before shutting his eyes. Perhaps you were right. This new life? This time for all to heal? This time spent in a new flat?

It would do. It would do just fine.

[fluffymcu]

Letting Loose

Part EIGHTEEN

This series is TICKLE related.

Series Summary:  You’re the little sister of the one and only Captain America. You’re also the youngest girl on the team, so that automatically makes you the avengers’ little princess. And they spoil you as such. They have become your amazing family and you don’t know where you’d be without them. This series will show random adventures and fluffy events in the daily life of the reader and her family, along with an unexpected turn later on as you read.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing this series! This is my first time writing one and I’m a bit nervous but I hope it all goes well. :)  Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1,962

It’s been a few weeks since the outdoor movie night. You were looking around in the kitchen for something to eat when you heard Sam make cooing noises from his place on the couch. You turned to see him flipping through a small book. You walked up to him to see what he was doing.

“What are you doing?” you asked. He looked up from the book and smiled.

“Just lookin’ at your baby pictures.” He said. 2 or 3 of them were from the 40’s that Steve had in his uniform pockets while he was looking for you when you were kidnapped by HYDRA. Others were pictures that Steve took of you during the year that you lived in an apartment when you were 5 or 6. The rest were pics that the team took of you as you were growing up after you moved to the tower then the compound.

“Aww, look at you here.” Sam said, pointing to a picture of you with cake on your face. You internally cringed. “So adorable! With your little bows and everything.” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not adorable Sam.” You said.

“Oh, so you think you’re grown now? That you're not adorable anymore?” Sam asked amused, raising an eyebrow at you. You pursed your lips and crossed your arms.

“I may not be grown but I’m not adorable.” You sass. Sam chuckled at that.

“Well I have proof right in this book that says otherwise. Look .“ he smirked, flipping through many pictures or tea parties, days in the pool, the team playing dress up with you, and much more. Through them all, Sam was cooing the while time. You groaned and covered your face in mild frustration. You flopped down on the couch and sat there with your arms crossed. Sam didn’t pay you any mind at your little attitude and just kept looking through the book.

Bucky walked in at that moment and noticed your body language. “What's y/n so worked up about?” he asked Sam. “I mean, I know she’s talking to you and that’s enough to make anyone upset but is there any other reason?” he said, smirking a bit when Sam rolled his eyes.

“Little y/n here is getting all blushy because I keep calling her adorable.” He says, going the extra mile and pinching your cheek. You whined and leaned way from his touch.

“I am not!” you could feel your face heat up. Bucky chuckles.

“Aww this is what you're cranky about? You are adorable! Look at these pictures of when you were a baby; just precious!” he says, taking the book from Sam. You growled and slumped down further on the couch. And so begins the endless teasing session.

“Look she's pouting. How cute. But as adorable as that is, I don’t know how I feel about having a pouty y/n. Buck?” Sam asked.

“Oh, absolutely not. We can’t have that! We love a happy girl!” You pout even more to show your annoyance.

“Nothing seems to work, Buck. What do you suggest we do?”

“Well, I suggest we do the thing that always makes her smile when she's pouty!” he smirked. Your eyes widened at that and you tried to make a run for it. Of course, the super soldier got to you before you could and thew you back on the couch. You were already giggling, your annoyed facade melted away. Nervousness overcame your senses as you realized not only Bucky is about to tickle you to pieces but Sam as well.

“Wahahait! Guhuhuys! I wont pout anymore I promise!!” you begged. Sam raised an eyebrow at you.

“But will you admit you're the most adorable thing ever?” he teased. You pursed your lips in a scowl.

“I'm not adorable!” you growled.

Bucky and Sam turned to face each other at the same time and nodded. “Denial.” They immediately pounced on you, eliciting loud and bubbly giggles. Bucky was wasting no time, drilling his fingers into your ribs while Sam was repeatedly squeezing up and down your thighs. You threw your head back as you laughed, keeping your arms pressed to your sides, even though it did nothing to stop the ticklish feeling.

“We can do this all day, y/n. We won’t stop until you admit it.” Bucky smirked, slipping his hands up further up to wiggle his hands under your arms. You yelped and erupted into high pitched laughter, kicking out your legs. Sam had gotten a hold of your ankle and was now scratching the soles of your feet, making you cackle. “Tickle tickle tickletickletickle! Aww look at that adorable smile!”

Your face was burning as you blushed and tried to cover your face with your hands. Bucky chortled and shook his head, lifting your shirt and blowing a long raspberry, tasing your sides at the same time. You shrieked and shot your arms right back down. “I CAHAHANT BREHEHEATHE!” You cried, shaking your head side to side. It became clear then that they really weren’t going to stop until you gave in. “AHAHAHAA OKAHAHAY OKAHAY ILL SAY IHIHIT! EEH!” You squealed and fell right back into hysterics when Sam started to squeeze your knee.

“Well? On with it then.” Sam said, not letting up on his torture. Bucky smirked, tickling your waistline, making your giggles more desperate.

“Lehehet me go fihihirst.” You giggled.

“NOPE!” Bucky said, blowing another raspberry. You arched your back with a loud squeal and finally gave in.

“NOOOHOHO OKAY IM ADOHOHORABLE!” You cry, scrunching up your neck when Bucky feathers is fingers around your neck.

“Damn right. And you better not forget it.” Bucky said, pointing a finger at you warningly. You blushed and turned on your belly to hide your face.

“Okay, yes, I get it.” You whine feigning annoyance. Bucky and Sam shook their heads at you fondly and left, leaving you to rest on the couch. You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until you woke up to the soft chatter of the team in the kitchen. You hadn’t opened your eyes yet and were still half asleep but you could tell you were covered by a blanket. Someone must have put it on you when you were asleep. 

You stirred a bit and woke up a little more at the sound of chuckling and you sat up on the couch. You had wrinkle marks on the side of your face that was on the couch and you turned to see the team gathered around the island, having a conversation. Bucky has the first one to turn and see you, smiling and winking at you. You giggled, drawing the attention of the other team members. Steve smirked at your sleepy look and put a hand on his hip. “Look who finally woke up.”

“How was your nap, Sleeping Beauty?” Tony teased, taking a sip of his coffee.

You giggled again and fell back onto the couch to cover your blush with the blanket. “What are you guys talking about.” You asked, your voice muffled a bit. Steve walked over and sat on the couch next to you, lifting up your legs to sit. 

“We’re trying to see where we wanna go to eat. There’s a nice new Wing place a few minutes out of Town Square. Think you’d like that?” He asked, rubbing up and down your legs comfortingly. You nodded with lazy smile. 

“Alright, it’s decided then. Everyone get ready, we leave in 20.” Tony said, clapping his hands once. You got up and headed to your room to change. 

-----

You had all just gotten seated at a table after waiting for a bit. The place was still new so there were many people there wanting to try it out. You sat next to Wanda and Bruce and across from Peter and Steve. Nat was sitting next to him. As you all were waiting for your food, you looked up to see Steve sit back and wrap an arm around Nat’s chair, kinda on her shoulders while Nat scooted closer with a small smile.

You grin to yourself and dig in your food when it arrives, making a note to yourself to tease Nat about it later.

------

You got home and followed Nat around all the way to her room, without saying a word until you closed the door behind you.

“So...? You and Steve have been getting pretty close, huh?” You asked, bumping her with your elbow and smiling smugly.

“What makes you say that?” She said, folding the rest of her laundry and obviously trying to play dumb. You rolled your eyes playfully and scoffed. 

“Oh come on, don’t act like you don’t know. I think you should tell him and the team already; that you officially like him.”

“And why should I feel the need to do that yet?”

“Because... if you don’t tell him, I will.” Of course you were joking, you would never reveal a secret like that to someone. You turned on your heel and went for her bedroom door. “Oh, steeeeve!” You sang. 

You didn’t expect Nat to quickly come up behind you and stick her hands under your arms. You immediately clamped up and fell to the floor in a fit of laughter. “Y/n don’t you dare-I will stuff you in my closet and keep you hostage if you tell him.” She playfully growled, following you to the ground and wrapping herself around you like a koala and tickling your sides. You were in hysterics.

“OKAHAHAHAY I WONT TELL HIM!” You cried. You were basically trapped in her hold and could do nothing but laugh your heart out. She dug her nails in between your ribs, making you cackle and arch your back.

“Promise?” She smirked, pinching mischeviously at your hip bones.

“YEHEHES, I WOULD NEVEHEHEHER!” After that, she let you go from the hold and you sprawled out on the floor, panting. Nat smirked at your exhausted state.

“Good.” She hummed. She stood up and leaned against the bed, her lips pursing a bit as she gulped. “So... how do you feel about it?” She asks a little more serious now.

You sat up on the floor and raised your eyebrows at her. “Seriously? I ship you guys so hard.” You chuckle. “If I’m being honest, I was rooting for you guys since... years ago.” You chortled. “I really hope you guys become a thing in the future. Just know I’ll always be your #1 supporter.” 

Nat smiles at that, pulling you into a hug. “Thank you y/n. That means a lot. Really. I don’t know what would be possible of us if you didn’t support a relationship between us. Maybe now we actually have a chance.” She says. 

“Of course!” You smile and return the hug. 

-------

Tonight was Movie night with the team and you were snuggled up to Thor and Bucky. You smiled to yourself and leaned your head on Thor’s shoulder. You looked around to see everyone on the couches, sitting net to each other nd having their snacks with smiles on their faces. Right then, you had a moment where you became aware of the life you had. You had an amazing family that loved you so much and you loved them back. You wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. You glanced over at Ruby Anne to see her sitting net to her dad. You couldn’t wait until Ruby started to feel the same feeling you feel about your family now. You sighed happily, resting your head back on his shoulder.

  “Goodnight. Love you guys.” You sighed before closing your eyes. The rest of the team smiled at you and bid you goodnight as well. 

“We love you too y/n/n.”

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

I hope you all enjoyed the series! this was really amazing and stressful and fun and interesting to write and although some of these chapters may not be that good, just know I put my heart and soul into this series and I was really happy to share it with you guys. <3 

Remember if you’d like to request a plus chapter continuing this storyline, feel free to request one but please be specific as to what you’d like to see in that chapter. Thank you so much for reading! :D

[tae-cup]

Gouache on Calculators by Kim Taehyung | Calcu-LATER (1)

Pairing: Art Major!Kim Taehyung x Math Major!Reader, Jimin x reader-ish

Summary:  Math never fails you. The numbers might not always make sense, but you know there must be a solution. Everything fits together like a perfect puzzle, like your tidy life and solitary living…until Kim Taehyung spills paint all over your notebook. He, quite literally, trips into your life.

Genre: College AU, Fluff, Angst, Angst with happy ending, Light Topics, humor

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Uh, it’s not this dark i swear,  slight Internalized homophobia, Drinking, Cheating, uh uh uh it’s going to be a ride.

Word Count: 2.7k Words

A/N: Ah! I’m so excited to present this absolute mess of a story! Let me know your thoughts and if you’d like to be added to the taglist! Also also also, this chapter is short, but I promise the next one is a little over twice this length!

Other: 

Series List

Masterlist

Previous (teaser) | Next 

       Mr. Erich was a slow talker. You could almost understand why Jimin was falling asleep next to you. Almost. Jimin wasn’t someone you really considered a close friend, but then again, you didn’t have many close friends. 

      The teacher continued droning on about number theory. You placed your head down on the desk, but your hand continued writing your notes. Staying up late last night wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to write an essay on Anaxagoras, a greek philosopher. 

     You hated philosophy. But you loved your mother and your mother had urged you to take a class that didn’t only involve numbers. 

     Jimin was snoring peacefully and you glanced over at him. It wasn’t exactly your issue so you looked away and went back to following the lesson. A few minutes later, he jerked awake and groaned audibly.

      A few people in the seats around looked at him quizzically. You shrunk lower in your seat. You didn’t want to attend class, too many people and it made your heart race, but you needed to pass this class and so you, sadly, must attend.

        Many knew Jimin as the son and heir to BigHit, the large business conglomerate that had wealth that made even the 1% drool, but to you he was just that guy who fell asleep in Calculus and cheated off your notes. Objectively, this was annoying. Subjectively…

     You felt him staring out of the corner of your eye. He was looking pointedly at your notes. Subjectively, you didn’t care enough. If he didn’t pay attention in class, that was his problem and you didn’t feel one way or another. At the bottom of your notes, you wrote, Pay attention. 

He wrote that down too without a second thought. 

   You were busy. You were always busy. In fact, you had an extremely important Algebra assignment to do and you knew you could get it done as long as no one bothered you-

“Oh my god.” 

    A man with blonde hair and a light blue beret stood in front of you. In his hands was a tray of spilled over paints; paints that were now on you. You tilted your head. 

“Can you move?” You spoke up after a while. 

“I’m so sorry!” He seemed unfrozen and hurried after you as you brushed by. 

“Uh, can you go away?” 

“I know you’re probably really mad! Do you want money or something? I can buy you new clothes or-wait that sounds weird.” 

“Clothes?” You glanced down and then realized the state of your wardrobe. 

    You were splattered with red, green, and yellow paint. You then glanced at your notebooks, also, helpfully, coated in a thin layer of paint. More importantly, your beautiful TI-84 calculator was ruined. 

     You opened your mouth, furiously holding up your calculator, but the man continued rambling on. Annoying. But somewhat entertaining, you supposed. 

“You got paint on my-” 

“Let me take you out! Somewhere nice? I’ll buy you a coffee!” He tore off some notebook paper and scribbled some numbers down. You paused. What was he doing? 

“Besides, it’s not paint, it’s Gouache.” He announced proudly, shoving the paper into your already full arms. 

“But that- you still got-”

“Taehyung!” Jimin called from behind you. You turned and the man winced. “Oh, Taehyungie has never been too neat, sorry about him. Anyway, we gotta go, Tae. Yoongi just called and Jungkook set fire to the carpet again.” 

“He really needs to change his major to something a little less dangerous.” 

“What is this, the third time?”

“I don’t know, but we need to go, Tae-”

“What’s his major?” You questioned.

“Philosophy.” They both said in unison. 

“Anyway gotta go!” Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand and started speed walking away. 

“You got paint on my calcu-”

“Later!” Jimin shouted over his shoulder, his eyes lingered on you for a moment.

    Did you have something on your face? You swiped at your cheek and he grinned, turning back around and following Taehyung.

    Once they were out of sight, you juggled your notebooks around until you could successfully pick up the paper. 278-367-5433 ;). You scoffed at the numbers, something you did often, and crumpled it up. 

“Art majors. What a waste of trees” You muttered and trudged back to your dorm. 

 “I’m so stuck on this problem, Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re my friend?”

“I’m not your friend, Jimin.” You moved the phone to your other shoulder and continued working. 

“But-”

“Bye.” 

      You hung up and groaned, massaging your temple. Your room could be seen as lonely. Plain white paint sat on dull gray walls. There wasn’t a speck of trash or clothing littered on the floor. You lived an orderly life. Tidy. Your eyes strayed to your hamper. 

      Your clothes from earlier were spilling out of the top. A splash of color on a black and white canvas. You scrunched your nose and looked away in disgust. You had never understood the point of art. What did anyone ever see in it? It was meaningless. You looked back to your notes. 

      These numbers meant something. They meant the height of a ladder leaning against a building, the measurements of a bridge, and where Mary Jane would end up in 400 minutes if she’s going five miles an hour on a circular road. It was pretty deep. 

      You looked at your watch. Then you moved your attention to the window. Your dorm overlooked the sprawling center of campus. The place was a concrete playground, but with the extensive arts program, it was always covered in colorful murals and art pieces. 

       You didn’t have a roommate and you liked it that way. You had always preferred to be alone. Others called you anti-social, but, to put it another way, if there was an apocalypse and it was just you and another person alive in the entire world, you would probably leave them for dead. Life was simpler alone. 

       Besides, you wouldn’t have to deal with people chastising you about not picking up on “social cues” or whatever the hell those were. How were you supposed to know that when someone leans in real close, they want to kiss you? It seemed quite arbitrary in your mind. 

      Your phone was buzzing again. 

“What do you want?” 

“Please Y/N! This. Is. Really. Hard.” 

“Jimin, figure it out. How are you going to pass midterms if you can’t understand algebra?” 

“Ouch.”

“I mean that in the most sincere way.” You relented. 

“You’re so mean, Y/N.”

   Your eyebrows rose. That certainly wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words. 

“I’m honest. You could go ask the teacher or something.”

“He told me to ask you.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

You heard him let out a dry laugh on the other side and rustling of sheets. 

“You’re really good at math, Y/N.”

“I hate number theory.” You objected. 

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not good at it!” 

“Shut up. I’m going to hang up now.” 

“Wait no-”

Beep. 

     People were annoying. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t trying to stick out like a sore thumb, but getting in the flow of other people and understanding all the shit they wanted you to understand was hard. 

     You put your pencil back down onto the page and continued writing. You reached for your calculator, groaning when you realized the paint had covered the display. 

“Great. Just great.” 

      You set the calculator aside, feeling a little sentimental. After all, you’d had that thing since seventh grade. Your phone buzzed again. Jimin jesus chr-

“Yes?” You picked up. 

“What is this So ka toe ah everyone is telling me about.”

“How did you pass trig without sohcahtoa?” 

“Tell me!” 

“Ask Taehyung.”

“Taehyung is an art major and hasn’t had to be proficient in math since the fifth grade!” 

“Sin, cosine, tan. Bye.” 

Beep. 

     You massaged the crease between your eyebrows and your attention got caught by the darkened campus. The gross fluorescent campus lights lit up the concrete. Freshmen were running wild, happy with their newfound freedom, and seniors were leaving for clubs or parties. The lights in the dorm buildings across campus began turning on one by one. 

     You searched your pockets for the crumpled paper. When you didn’t find any, you made your way to your hamper and dug around the pockets of your paint smothered clothing. 

“Aha.” You unfolded the paper and dialed the number. You didn’t feel like talking, but Jimin was driving you up the wall. 

“Taehyung, right?” You said as he picked up. 

“Yeah? Changed your mind?”

“No. I’m going to make this short and sweet, tell Jimin to stop calling me for math help. Thanks.” You hung up and went back to your work. 

     So, technically, you were done with work, but being done with work meant that you were free and if you were free, that meant you had no excuse not to go out. And you needed an excuse to avoid people. You opened up your textbook and frowned at the various graphs and equations. You had already done all of them for fun this summer. 

“Hey, Y/N, a bunch of us in the dorm are going out, wanna come?” The hall monitor knocked on your door. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your job?” You looked back with a confused expression. 

“Charming as ever I see.” She chuckled. 

“Come on, Jasmine, Y/N never wants to go out anyway.” Another girl shouted. 

“I know! I just wanted to be nice!” Jasmine shouted out, as if you weren’t right there. 

“What would be nice is if you left.” You said, your voice monotone and matter of fact. 

“Alright then. If you need anything, just text or call.”

“You won’t pick up anyway.” You whispered under your breath, but Jasmine was already gone. 

 “You forgot that this has to be positive, Jimin.” You leaned over him like an overbearing mother. 

“But that doesn’t make sense!”

“You’re dividing two negatives. They cancel out.” You explained, a frown twisting onto your face. 

       There was a long silence as you watched him scribble down the new numbers. The library was relatively quiet. The giggles of a group in the corner would pierce the peaceful ambience every now and then, but the librarian would always shush them and they’d die down. 

     Jimin cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to this study session. You moved across the table and sat at your seat again. You just sat and stared at him. He was intriguing. He made silly mistakes that he should honestly understand for being a junior in college. His eyes flicked up to you three times and back to his paper. 

“Well, this is awkward.” He said after a while. 

“Is it?” You shrugged and continued staring him in the eye. He shifted awkwardly and looked away. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He whispered. 

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” 

His mouth opened and closed then he looked back at his paper, his ears turning red. 

“Are you coming on to me?” He murmured. 

“What? No, why would I do that?” You said, disgusted, and returned to your work. 

       To be clear, you weren’t disgusted with him, but you were disgusted at the idea that you would come onto him. After all, you were just here for math and Jimin was just here because he needed help studying, obviously. He looked like you had just slapped him. You honestly didn’t see an issue. 

“You know, my parents are pretty traditional and they want me to bring a girl home this holiday season. You’re the only girl I’m really close friends with.” He began. You felt his eyes on you and you looked up. 

“Uh, alright? That sounds like a problem. Who are you going to take then?”

“You’re really dense, aren’t you?”

“I’m not dense.” You defended. “You need to expand your friend group.” 

“I was wondering if you could come along?”

“What?” Your furrowed your eyebrows. “Absolutely not.”

“It wouldn’t be anything romantic, just-” 

    A man with mint green hair and a slim build walked past and Jimin’s eyes followed him. You followed his line of sight. 

“....We can just go as friends, you know?” 

You nodded solemnly. “Just friends, Jimin.”

“You’ll go?”

“Only if you promise me it’s just friends because I really don’t want to have to deal with romance.” You huffed, picking up your pencil and jotting down numbers. “You already have my number, just send me the details.”

“Thank you!” 

      The librarian shot him a glare and he lowered his voice. 

“You’re a real lifesaver.” He whispered. 

“I know.” You narrowed your eyes and then began to pack up your things. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do. Bye.” 

“What, but we just-” 

“Yeah I know, but I’m sort of sick of talking to people and I helped you with your work so I’ve got to go work on Philosophy.” 

“Philosophy? I didn’t take you as a philosophy person.”

“Me neither.”

     Aha! You knew you recognized Taehyung from somewhere. You ran your finger over the screen. The list of student names in your philosophy class was displayed. 

“Kim Taehyung. KTaehyung24@WillowsUniversity.edu.” You murmured 

“Whatcha doing?” Jasmine leaned against your doorway. 

“Just...research.” You explained lamely. 

“I see.” The hall monitor came inside and sat on your bed. “You never go out, Y/N. I’m worried about you.” 

“Okay, and?” You glanced at her as she sat cross legged on the bed. Great. She’s wrinkling the sheets. 

“Well, as a friend-”

“We’re not friends.”

“-and hall monitor, I command that you go out this weekend. Do something with your college life. I think you might regret not doing anything fun later on.” She prodded softly. 

“This is fun.” You gestured to the scattered math homework pages across the desk. 

“Right… well, just keep it in mind.” She stood and moved to your door. 

“Jasmine?”

“Yeah?” She paused, turning to look at you. You read over your philosophy work and then your essay.

“You ever think that there are so many people in your life, but no one is really a part of it?”

“You’ve got to stop with the philosophy, Y/N. It feels weird coming from you.” She laughed.

       You didn’t find anything funny in that. She looked awkwardly from you to the door, expecting you to chuckle along, but you remained silent, blinking at her. She shivered and left without another word. 

      The second she was gone, you stood abruptly and smoothed out the bed sheets, but as you did that, more wrinkles appeared on the other side. You felt the anxiety pouring out of you and you rushed to smooth down the other side, but more and more wrinkles kept appearing like disgusting bugs that wouldn’t die. You let out a frustrated sigh and tore all the sheets off your bed. 

       You took the ruler off your desk and measured out the width and height, then calculated how much extra cloth is needed on both sides for it to be perfectly centered. Then you marked it off and remade the bed. You felt yourself calming as order was restored. 

    You thought back to Jasmine’s words. Go out? Absolutely not. Then you looked at the crumpled paper on your desk. 

“Fine, Jasmine.” You pursed your lips and dialed the number once more. 

“Y-ello?” Taehyung’s voice rumbled through the speaker. 

“I want a coffee, but I’d prefer to go somewhere quiet.”

“Straight to the point I see.”

“Polite niceties take up too much time. When are you available?” “Whenever you are, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Alright. Uh…” There was a long pause and you heard rustling in the background. “Sorry just grabbing a piece of paper.”

“Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to apologize for.” You said quickly, eager to get this conversation over with. 

“I’m free this Saturday?” 

“Works for me.” You said. You didn’t need to check your calendar to know you had nothing to do. 

“Great see you then.” He said stiffly.

“Yup.”

“Uh...bye?”

“Alright.” 

Beep. 

      Now it was time to overthink the arrangement until Saturday.

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[havethetimeofyourstyles]

here it is! the first part of UTCM!

wc: 4.8k

taglist | story masterlist

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

With clothes flying across the room, trying to make each article of clothing land in the target of a rectangle, you rummage through your closet, trying to find the specific piece of your most treasured clothing. 

One that meant something special to you. 

As you dig through your drawer, trying to find the thick, vintage tee your dad had given you (more like you stole it and never gave it back), your hand finally feels the familiar material that has brought you comfort and lots of compliments if you do say so yourself. 

With a proud ‘bingo’ escaping your lips, you’re not surprised that it’s the only shirt you folded and gently put into your suitcase. You looked around your room, finding the hurricane of clothing sprawled out on the floor and your bikini top on your lap shade. Laughing a bit, you drop to your knees and begin to pick up your clothes, stuffing it into the suitcase. 

You check the time and see that it’s five minutes to 9 AM and your phone rings on your bedside table, knowing you’re behind schedule. You quickly grab your phone, placing it between your shoulder and your ear, and continue grabbing your clothes. 

“Yellow?” 

“Honey, quit answering the phone like that.” You take the phone from your shoulder and put it at arms reach before sighing, knowing you should’ve looked at the caller ID. 

“Hello, mother. How are you on this fine morning?” Your voice changes from playful to proper tone only to tease her. 

“Oh, quit it. I was just calling to see if you were all packed and ready.” 

“Yup!” You say confidently, looking around your room as it says otherwise. Obviously, packing wasn’t your greatest talent. 

It was your best friend’s parent’s anniversary. Minny has informed you a month ago, knowing that you would procrastinate on packing, and to be fair, she was right. Packing wasn’t your favorite, and she knew that. Aww, my best friend knows me so well. 

You and Minny have been best friends since you were 7. You two met at school and were in the same class. Because of the two’s last names being right next to each other on the roll call, you were assigned to sit right next to her. Throughout the years in school, you had always remained close. Sure, you two have met other people and became friends with them, but nothing came as close as the bond you have with her. 

It was 20 years of eating at lunch together, never missing a day. Sleepovers. Day and night calls to gossip or vent. Laughs. Petty arguments. Crying over stupid boys and girls that broke your heart. Monthly ‘glo the fuck up’ day. Jogging in the park. Living life. And most importantly, love. 

Damn, we’re getting old. 

“I’m sad I can’t make it to Dan and Lina’s anniversary trip.” Your mother sighed over the phone. 

Yours and Minny’s family had practically become one big family when you both turned 10. With occasional sleepovers and meet ups at the mall, your parents had become really great friends with hers. 

“I know, Mom. But you practically see them everyday, so it’s fine. They understand why.” You try reasoning out with her. 

“I hope so.” She sighs sadly on the phone, and it makes your heart hurt. 

“They do understand. Trust me.” 

“I wish you were here-” She immediately cuts off. 

“Mom, I can go with you. I don’t have to go on Dan and Lina’s trip. Let me call Minny so I can tell her to not come by.” 

“No, no!” You pause. “Please, don’t miss out on having fun for me. I want you to have fun. You deserve it.” You nod, even though she can’t see you. You check the time, and know you’re running out of time to finish packing. 

“You deserve it too, Mom.” She doesn’t say anything, but you know she’s smiling on the other side of the call.

“Hey, Mom. I gotta go. Minny is almost here to pick me up, so I just wanna double check everything.” 

“Of course, honey. I’ll call Lina later. Say hi to Minny for me. I love you.” 

“Will do. I love you too.” The door knocks once you hang up the call. Curses scolding yourself for being so lazy and procrastinating fly from your lips as you get the door. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” The last person you were expecting was seeing your ex boyfriend on your doorstep with keys in his hand. He wore rust color corduroy pants, a stripe shirt, and a turquoise jacket that’s stitched on the side. His hair was pushed back by his black sunglasses and he was wearing his pearl necklace. You hate to admit that he looks good and can possibly rock anything he wore, and you despised him for that along with other reasons. 

“Wow. No, hi or how are you Harry? I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” He says sarcastically and you roll your eyes, walking back to your room to finish packing. “Well, I see you’re still not that great with organizing your time, or your clothes.” You don’t say anything because you really don’t want to speak to him at the moment, or at all. “I’m assuming Minny didn’t tell you.” Your eyes perk up into confusion. 

“Minny didn’t tell me what?” You ask, continuing to fold the last pair of clothes. 

“She asked me to pick you up. You know, to take you to the lake house.” If it were possible, steam was coming out of your ears. Why hadn’t Minny told you? You huff loudly for Harry to know that you’re clearly annoyed before grabbing your phone and immediately dialing Minny’s number, and waiting for her to pick up. 

Harry looks around your room, seeing as things haven't changed with you, and you want to kick him out as soon as you're done talking to Minny. 

“Hey, girl! Are you on your way?” Her voice is high and she clearly is not prepared for what you’re about to give her. 

“How can you have Harry pick me up? And why didn’t you tell me that you couldn’t pick me up?” 

“Clearly, you’re the best at greeting people anymore.” Harry says, leaning against the door frame as he wears a smirk, and you immediately flick him off. He puts his hand on his chest with an exaggerated jaw drop, pretending to be offended. 

“I’m so sorry. I meant to tell you, I promise. But my dumbass of a brother decided to come last minute because his plans got cancelled, and so we were all rushing out the door and putting everything in the car.” You hear Minny’s brother, Jackson, say ‘hey!’ and you sigh. 

“It’s okay, I understand.” Not wanting to be annoyed anymore, you brush it off. 

“I can find someone else to pick me up, no worries.” Harry raises his hands up as if he’s saying ‘I’m literally here to pick you up.’ 

“No! Just take the ride from Harry. After all, he is staying at the house too.” Your eyes widen. 

“What?! Why would you invite him?” 

“You know, you’re doing a lot of talking like I’m not here in the room right now.” You mouth ‘shut up’ to him.

“Please, just go with him. We’re almost there anyways and I don’t want you guys to be late because you want to be difficult. Just ride with him. It’s only like a 3 hour drive and you can sleep on the way, and then not talk to him for the rest of the trip.” She persuades. 

Minny was always good at persuading people. In college, both of you were commuting from home and didn’t stay at the dorms, so you didn’t know that many people, especially not in the frat or sorority houses. She had convinced her parents that they needed a weekend to get out of the house and take a nice getaway trip, laying out the pros and cons so she can throw a party. And they really thought her pros outweigh the cons. 

“Ugh! Okay, fine.” 

“Thank you! Love you! Bye!” She gets off the phone quickly, and you turn to Harry. 

“Shall we get on the road?” He smiles. You were finally finished with packing and rolled your luggage to the front, ignoring him. He comes out of your room with your bikini top in his hand, and your eyes widen, forgetting to take it from the lampshade. “Think you forgot this.” He holds it up and you snatch it quickly. And you’re both out the door and possibly going on the worst trip. 

Two weeks and I’ll be home. 

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

Two hours down. One more to go. 

The entirety of the car ride had been filled with awkwardness and silence. If music hadn’t been playing, you were sure you were going to explode. Harry had asked you if you were alright about a million times or if you were too hot or cold. You kept your responses to a minimum, replying with ‘yeah, I’m good’ or ‘I’m okay’. Harry was gripping the steering wheel so tight, that he was sure his hand would cramp up when he tried to unlatch. The tension and awkwardness was getting to him. He hated that things had ended up like this between the two of you, but he was willing to change that. He wants to change that. 

“R. E. D.” He says suddenly after minutes of not talking, and just listening to the sound of the music and the engine of the car. 

“Pardon?” You turn to face him. 

“C’mon, you don’t remember the game we used to play when we would go on road trips?” He asks hopefully, looking at you quickly before turning his head back on the road. 

Of course you remember. Hours on the road with him, going to the next destination when he was on tour or outside of the city to get away from everything, led you both to play road trip games that included saying 3 random letters and finding it on a license plate. It’s what made traveling fun and the hours on the road much more interesting. Especially with Harry. 

“Yeah, I remember.” You say softly, not showing emotion. 

“Okay, well, start looking.” 

“You weren’t very good at this game.” You say, but quickly close your mouth, not realizing that you’re thinking out loud. 

And Harry’s surprised. He knows that your comment was a teasing one, and he was worried that he would t get a single sentence out of your mouth without you yelling in his face. “I’m very good at this game!” 

“I mean, considering that my board was filled with tallies, then I would think you’re bad at it.” You let out a chuckle and Harry has a big smile on his face, thinking it’ll hurt his cheeks later on. 

“You literally gave me impossible letters to work with!” 

“They’re license plates, not people’s names!” You tease. 

“Just look for R.E.D!” He ends the conversation. Although he didn’t want to, he knew that you’re most likely going to blow up in his face if you two acted like a happy couple again. He knew that you would overthink about the bad things overlapping the good, and you would go back to resenting him. 

And he was right. 

After he ended the conversation, you were thinking about what could’ve been between you; what could still be if he weren’t an asshole. The laughs and teasing you two had just a minute ago were replaced with deep breaths, not knowing if one of you should say a thing again. 

There were only a few cars on the same road for you; going to different places. You wondered if people going on a road trip had the same situation with you and Harry: the sharp tension that can be cut like a knife or wanting to jump out of the car. 

You must have blanked out for a while because Harry had gotten off the highway and onto a secluded street that leads to the lake house. 

The drive through the woods with high boulders and tall trees had you speechless. You got as close to the window as possible, looking up like you’ve just seen a shooting star. Nature has always been such a fascination to you. You’ve always loved camping trips and hiking; so much that you’re currently an environmental scientist. 

You don’t notice with your head practically sticking out the window, but Harry is having such a hard time keeping his eyes on the road. He thinks that it’s admirable how passionate you are, especially about nature and animals because it’s rare that people end up doing what they love. And he loves seeing you so passionate about what you love. 

The drive surrounded by the forest didn’t take long; about 20 minutes, and Harry had already pulled up into the gravel driveway in front of the lake house. 

The famous lake house that Lina and Dan have owned for 30 years; ever since they got married. It was a rather large lake house; able to fit two families of four. With brown wood hammered onto the sides and evergreen border along the windows, the house was generally very comfortable and homey. They had kept renovating throughout the years to keep up with the times changing, and they’re loving how modern it looks as of now, but very welcoming at the same time. 

“Well, we’re finally here.” Harry says, cutting off the ignition and getting out of the car. You do the same as well and meet him where the truck is popped open, Harry grabbing his bags. You went to reach for it, but Harry slaps your hand away.

“Hey!”

“Don’t worry about the bags. I got them.” 

“Thanks.” You give him a soft smile. 

“And besides, you’ve packed for like a month when we’re gonna be here for two weeks, and you were barely able to carry it out of your house.” He teases. 

“For a matter of fact, I happen to be very strong.” You cross your arms. 

“Okay, whatever you say, Captain.” The pet name slipped out. When you and Harry were together, he started calling you Captain because sometimes you can be so aggressive and demanding, but passionate, that it felt like you were the Captain of the ship, which technically you were. You were always in charge, always right, and always planning everything. Captain just stuck, and he thought it was so perfect for you. 

The pet name had definitely startled you. You haven’t heard that name come from his lips in forever. And admittingly, you missed it. But you don’t tell him that, of course. 

Harry notices your shock and just smiles instead of pushing it. He instead walks towards the car once his hands are full. 

“Hey, Harry?” He could’ve sworn that his head got jumbled up at your call for him because of how fast he turned around. 

“Yes?”

“R.E.D.” You pointed towards Minny’s car with a smirk on your face. Harry looks at her license plate and his jaw drops, but you see the corners of his lips turn up. 

“How did you-”

“You think I don’t know my best friend’s license plate when she’s had this car for 4 years?” Your smile is amusing and Harry has missed this side from you. 

“Well done.” He drops the bags and starts clapping. 

“Make sure to mark my tally.” You walk past him and towards the house. Harry turns around, watching you walk. Specifically landing his eyes on your hips and watching them sway like you own the fucking world. It’s endearing and he loves it. He loves how sometimes you can walk the whole universe and own it, but he always loves how you shy away from things and look for reassurance. He loves it. 

You don’t turn around because with the smile and hint of blush that crept onto your face, it’s bound to be a disaster if he sees it. 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” He chuckles before picking up the bags and following your footsteps. 

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧

The inside of the house was opposite of what it looked like from the outside. While the outside was rustic and dark looking, the inside was light and provided very much needed natural lighting due to the big window that overlooks the lake. Sun shines bright through the window and into the house that it almost hurts to look out, but that’s Mother Nature at her finest. 

You head up to your usual bedroom that you claimed when you were younger, having taken trips to this house for so many years that your feet just subconsciously took you to your room. 

It remained the same: big window that led to a small balcony, wooden frame bed, and a mattress that is the perfect size and comfort for you. The walls were white, and with the light coming through, it made the room look even bigger. 

Usually you and Minny would sleep in the same room, but there were enough rooms so you two can have your own. But there were some nights where you would spend the night with her, and her, you. 

You hadn’t noticed Harry following you to your room, but when you hear bags drop onto the floor, you jump and turn around. “You scared me.” 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to. Thought you heard me following you.” 

“No, I didn’t. I was just distracted with my thoughts.” 

Harry leans against the door frame and crosses his arms. “What about?” He asks curiously. 

“Just… haven’t been here in a while, and I miss it.” He only nods, and it quickly goes back to silence. “Thank you for bringing my bags up.” This time, he smiles. 

“Not a problem. Let me know if you need anything else, Captain.” You chuckle. 

“Will do.” He leaves your room and shuts the door close, knowing you’d probably want to settle in and change into more lounge clothing. 

You sit on your bed, facing the window, and look out at the lake. You don’t know what you’re feeling. Before you saw him today, you would just get mad that you’re thinking about him, but that car ride broke every anger that clung onto your body. It was like your mind naturally reacted to Harry in a way that you couldn’t control. You can control anything else, but not with Harry. You naturally felt a pull towards him, and no matter how much you wanted to cut off the string you couldn’t. 

You had definitely missed the feeling of being around him, and that makes you angry. Angry at yourself because he hurt you. 

You try not to cry with the thoughts swirling in your head. You take in the beautiful view from your bedroom and tell yourself that you shouldn’t be sad because you’ve got a long trip ahead of you. 

As you changed into your lounge clothes, you headed downstairs to greet the family that was just back from the backyard. 

“Oh, sweetheart! I’m so happy you’re here!” Lina greets you with a warm hug. Dan does the same, giving you a bear hug. 

“Happy anniversary! How are you guys?” You ask the married couple. 

“We’re doing great! I’m excited this time has come again! We’ve got so much planned.” You smile at their excitement. They turned to look at each other and you can’t help but admire their love for one another, even after all these years. 

Yours and Minny’s parents’ love was like no other. You were pretty blessed to grow up around healthy relationships, and can’t help but feel so fond of the love they have for each other and wanting it for yourself. 

“The kids are still outside.” Lina kisses your cheek and Dan pats your shoulder before they head to the kitchen. 

You walk through the glass slide door that leads to the stunning view of the water that the sun reflects onto. You take a deep inhale in, breathing in the world’s scent. The outside is such a beauty that some people take it for granted. 

“Ahh!” The famous screams come from no other than Minny. “You’re here!” She runs to you and you engulf her into a big and hard hitting hug. Jackson also hugs you and runs his hand on top of your head, messing up your hair. 

“Dickhead!” You slap his chest. 

“How are you, other little sister?” 

“Oh, you know, here.” You say, not knowing what to say, so ‘here’ is usually your backup for not really wanting to say how you feel. 

Minny rolls her eyes, knowing you all too well for your liking. “How was the drive?” 

“It was…interesting.” 

“Well, that’s my cue to go.” Jackson walks back to the house, and leaves Minny and I to talk. 

“Was it that bad?” Minny asks worriedly. 

“No, it wasn’t bad. It was just awkward and there was tension between us. But then we started playing our famous road trip game and I started teasing him, and ugh! I smiled and laughed a little and I hated it.” You huffed and looked down. 

“What, why?” 

“I-I don’t know. I just… I was expecting to have the worst trip when he showed up at my doorstep, but my mind is taking over.” 

“Your mind or your heart?” Minny tests. You don’t reply. You just look at her, not knowing if she genuinely wanted a response or she was just testing you. 

“Why did you invite him?” You ask at the wrong time because you don’t hear the sliding door open, revealing Harry. 

“Hey, Minny.” He smiles softly at her and steps out of the house to hug her. Your breath was hitched in your throat, feeling guilty about your question because you didn’t hear him. 

“Hey, Harry.” She smiles back and hugs him. Once they let go of their embrace, Harry turns to you. 

“If you don’t want me here so bad, then the Captain shall be obeyed.” He teases, but you know that he’s more hurt than what he puts on. He puts on a brave face, but really you see it in his eyes that he’s hurt. You know that your question had hurt him and it was just the wrong timing to ask that. 

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“Didn’t you?” His head turns slightly, knowing he’s trying to keep his annoyance intact. His voice is different and sarcastic. Minny senses the shift of tension, so she breaks it. 

“I invited him because he’s been my friend as long as you have, so he’s practically family too. He’s been to every trip as well, and besides, my parents love him.” She places her arm on Harry’s shoulder, and you can’t help but feel like they’re teaming up against you. Harry walks ahead of us and goes inside while you and Minny trail behind him. You know you shouldn’t think of it like that because they’re not, but you feel like such a downer once you found out that Harry was tagging along. “Let’s go in and eat lunch!” Minny changes the subject, feeling like that’s what they really needed. “By the way, which letters did he ask for?” Minny asks. 

“R.E.D,” you smile amusingly and roll your eyes, giving your best friend the ‘I know right?’ look. She laughs loudly, throwing her head back and clutching her stomach. 

“Well that was an easy win for you.” She says and you nod, before putting an arm around your shoulder, walking inside the house for lunch. 

Lina had prepared salad, homemade garlic bread, Brussel sprouts, and mashed potatoes. Dan had cooked his famous ribs, one that was his specialty ever since he was a young adult. They didn’t want to cook right when they got to the house, so they prepared it beforehand and took it with them. 

The six sat down at the table that was set in front of the window. Dan at the end of the table, Lina on his right, Minny right next to Lina, you on the other end, Harry next to you, and Jackson next to Harry. Everyone was loading food on their plates before passing it around or across the table, Lina making sure everyone got one of each. 

“Alright, eat up!” 

The conversation flowed throughout the table. The parents asked the kids how work was going, to which everyone responded that it was going well. 

“Harry, honey, is your mom and sister planning to stay as well?” Lina asks. 

Harry clears his throat and wipes his mouth before replying, “they might come at the end of the week—probably the weekend. Gems couldn’t get out of work, so they’ll only stay for a few days.” She nodded and turned to you. 

“Has your mother changed her mind? About coming?” She gives you a sympathetic look. 

“I don’t think so. She said she would call you later.” Lina smiles at that. Your eyes naturally gravitated towards Harry and he has a confused look on his face looking back at you, but you look down at your plate before picking up your ribs and taking a bite out of them. 

You listen to the conversation while you eat; Dan telling the table a story about a cliff diving incident that happened to Lina when they were in Greece, and the whole table was laughing their ass off, even though they’ve heard it a million times; it never gets old. 

You finished your rib and set it down on your plate before wiping your hands down, and before you went to wipe your lips, you felt a napkin, one that’s not yours, wipe your cheek. You turn and see Harry trying to get the stained sauce from your skin. 

“Thank you.” You say awkwardly once he’s done, and he gives you a smile followed by a chuckle. He didn’t mean to do that. He knew you were a messy eater and it was a habit that he wiped stuff off your face. A habit that worked well for the both of you, like you were a team. A natural born team. 

Once everyone was finished with lunch, it was nearing 2 p.m already, and the group decided to split and do whatever they please as they were going to be all together tomorrow and the rest of the trip. 

After everyone helped clean up the table and kitchen, you decided to take a nap before watching the sun set for the day. 

Your body hit the mattress and soft pillows that made you feel like you were on a cloud. The room was dark, thanks to the thick curtains that hung from the metal rod. The only light that was shown was a strip of it coming from the curtain not being able to close all the way. You snuggled your pillow, happy you’re finally getting some rest after a long day. 

When you woke up, it was still light out, but not as sunny as it was prior to your nap. You stretched your limbs out, relieving the feeling of any tense muscles from your sleep, and walked downstairs and to the backyard.

“Good nap?” Harry says from the lawn chair that is set on the grass. You rub your eyes, nodding while closing the sliding door. There’s a vacant seat next to him, and you’re not quite sure if you want to sit next to him or watch the sun disappear when your feet are in the water. “Want to sit here?” He asks as if he read your mind. 

“I-”

“I can see that you’re debating if you want to sit next to me or not, so I can leave and you can sit here if you want.” He says, and you feel bad a bit. He already thinks that you don’t want him here, and he’s simply here for Lina and Dan. 

“It’s okay. You can stay. I’m just going to go by the water.” He only nods and you walk away. 

The water softly hits the shore and you feel the coldness of it hit your feet. It’s refreshing and cooling, hoping it’ll cool down your nerves and your mood. 

You cross your arms as you watch the sun slowly begin to set. The fascination you have with the sun is like no other. It reminds you of the feeling of hope and a new beginning; how the sun setting resembles the end of a story, a day. And tomorrow is a new day. 

You can’t help but think about your situation with Harry and how it’s hypocritical to be talking about a new story when you’ve been clinging onto his story. You feel a little stressed keeping the grudge and anger towards him bottled up because he hurt you bad, but you’re also still in love with him. 

As the sky turned from light to dark, you turned around to go inside, and to see if Harry was still sitting on the chair. But when you’re walking away from the water and towards the house, you see the chair empty, and you don't know why you have a sad feeling in your chest.

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[roselen-mylady]

Kickin it old school

Bucky Barnes x Deadpool!Reader

What happenes when Bucky falls in love with Y/n, otherwise known as Deadpool, the famous Merc with a Mouth? Can he break down her walls and enter the chaos that is her heart? 

WARNING: Mature language and suggestive themes

It started with a giggle. A little inappropriate giggle, underlined with drunken crudeness. It was a giggle that was accompanied by a dark, lustful smile and an even darker gaze. It was the kinda giggle that came from a girl who had never quite done it but had done enough hand and mouth stuff to no longer be completely innocent. A timid but craving giggle. A nasty giggle. 

Valkyrie had come to the compound for a meeting, nothing more. But with Y/n’s insistence she stayed around for their daily training. They held it outside today, allowing Sam to practice some group maneuvers with his wings and his passed down shield. Valkyrie went easy at first, not yet knowing the extent of Y/n’s power or how much she could take. 

But soon Y/n’s dirty and foul comments became more irritating than amusing and without much thought she forced Y/n back, making her fly across the yard. It wouldn’t have been such a damaging fall, no Y/n had survived much worse. Yet the decorative fence surrounding the building was an unforgiving cushion and Y/n’s head was soon impaled upon one metal spike. If her mind wasn’t so foggy she might’ve made a joke about being like an overthrown king, whose head was then displayed throughout the kingdom on a pike.  

Thankfully Sam wasted no time in making the joke, much to Valkyrie’s horror. She had killed many beings in her time, a lot without any cause or honor but this was different. The object of training wasn’t to kill your opponent but rather to better them. However there Y/n was, unmoving and what appeared to be dead upon the lawn. 

“Gods.” Valkyrie’s muffled voice came to Y/n like a blur. Y/n twitched, doing her best to lift herself off the spike. It was metal and quite firmly attached to the rest of the fence so she knew she had to find a way to work herself up to the top. 

Then the giggle came. The sultry giggle Wade used to love. 

“Deadpool, are you alright?” Valkyrie questioned, but was met with no response as Y/n gazed around her, some cheesy 90s song that had been long lost in her subconscious now filling the air around her. Valkyrie stepped into view like an angel coming to rescue her and Y/n couldn’t help but reach out to her as the woman broke the spike and brought Y/n up into her arms. 

Valkyrie was relieved to hear Y/n couldn’t die though the rather annoyed way Sam said it was alarming. Y/n’s white lenses widened as she reached out for Valkyrie’s face, letting her gloved hand caress her skin. 

Sam emerged somewhere from behind but Y/n paid no mind, finding Valkyrie’s confused expression almost…sexy? She couldn’t think straight but for what she was going to do, she didn’t need to. 

Y/n accepted the music in her head and the image before her, bringing both hands up with two fingers pointing into Vs. Y/n wasted no time in making very indecent gestures, only furthering Valkyrie’s confusion. Y/n couldn’t even hear Sam’s mock disgust as her hand drifted to her mouth motioning a lick between her two fingers though her mask covered her mouth. 

Valkyrie looked back to Y/n with an amused but uninterested smile before another set of arms took hold of Y/n. The cool metal under her back was different from the metal in her head and she found herself leaning into it for comfort. A scent so familiar filtered through her mask and she inhaled deeply, enjoying it more than the smoke from her guns. 

Looking up she was met with Bucky, his kind blue eyes and even warmer expression sending chills through her high state. Very much like Valkyrie, he fell victim to Y/n’s sexual gestures, her palm forming a circle in front of her mouth as she bobbed it closer and closer to her face. He didn’t respond, at least not that she could tell in the disoriented state she was in, instead setting her down upon her feet. 

Taking that as a go ahead, she began to sink to her knees but before her fingers could begin to dig into his waistband, his metal fingers wrapped around the spike, yanking it harshly out of her skull. 

The music stopped instantly and everything went cold around her as she collapsed into the grass. She groaned, gripping her head as an agonizing headache tore through her brain. “Oh fuck!" 

"She’s back to normal. If you can even call her that.” Sam teased as Valkyrie stepped forward to check on Y/n. Bucky stood in front of them, closest to Y/n and she now took notice of the pink dusting his face and the uneasy shift of his hips. 

“How did you survive that?” Valkyrie questioned, curiously as Sam tugged the shield out of a poor nearby tree. 

Y/n shrugged lazily, rolling over onto her side to climb back to her feet, blood still pooling in the lawn beside her. “Can’t die. Headshots only make me loopy.” Y/n explained, circling her finger next to her head dramatically as she struggled to piece together any coherent thoughts. 

“Yes, so I gathered.” Valkyrie laughed, referring to Y/n’s lewd suggestions. Y/n only shrugged shamelessly. 

“Well, if you’re ever up for it, you know where I’m at. I’ll even let you stab me again if that’s what you’re into.” Y/n winked, missing Bucky’s slight frown as he started back toward the compound. 

She didn’t know he’d only come out upon hearing a sickening squish of her skull sinking down the spike. She didn’t know he’d rushed to the lawn and nearly had a heart attack when he saw her. Didn’t know that even though she was practically immortal he still feared for her life. Didn’t know he’d give his for hers in an instant. 

Valkyrie smiled at the offer but didn’t give a response instead leaving Y/n guessing. She liked it when they played hard to get anyways. 

“Dead, c'mere.” Sam called over causing Y/n to turn away from Valkyrie’s retreating figure. She made her way over to him, still dizzy from her brain repairing itself but managed to make it over to the tree where he’d instructed. 

“Try catching the shield, I don’t think I’m throwing it hard enough." 

Bucky froze at the request, already sensing what a terrible idea it was. Yet before he could even begin to object Y/n complied, bracing herself in preparation. 

"Wait." 

His words hung limply on his tongue, exactly what he feared would happen, happening the second he spoke. Sam yelled out an apology as Y/n yanked her hand out from under the shield where it had been pinned to the tree. 

She didn’t cry or scream in pain, instead giving a frustrated shout as she jerked herself back, ripping her finger off in the process. 

"Aw, pussyshit." 

•••

"Ha! Sam, look! Baby finger!” Y/n wiggled her tiny middle finger, thrusting it into Sam’s face. He recoiled in disgust, forcing away her hand. 

“Ew, no! I don’t wanna see that thing.” He cried, pushing her off his desk. Y/n shrieked as she tumbled to the ground, landing flat on her ass. 

“Shit.” She groaned a little, choosing to sprawl out instead, too lazy to get back up. “Come on! You’re the dumbass that chopped it off. Masturbating is going to suck ass! What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?” She pushed her hand forward once more, smirking as he spared it a cautious glance. Immediately Sam looked away again, shaking his head in distaste. 

Her hand fell against her stomach, her other hand coming to massage the little finger as it grew in. But before she could continue to terrorize Sam the automatic door slid open, heavy boots clambering into the room. 

“Y/n, what are you doing on the floor?” His deep voice sent familiar chills through her spine and she quickly sat up, trying with all her might to ignore the feeling. Bucky looked down at her, his brows furrowed in confusion as he nudged her leg softly. 

“Cause this jackass, pushed me off the desk.” Y/n replied as she kicked Sam’s chair, crushing his leg against the side of his desk. He grunted painfully, shooting her a deadly glare before Bucky intervened. 

“How about we call this even before things get out of hand?” He sighed, rubbing his forehead like an agitated parent. 

“I don’t even want to hear the word ‘hand’.” Sam groaned. Y/n gasped, angrily rising to her feet and throwing her hands up wildly. 

“You cut it off, you stupid shit suckle!” She screeched, fuming at this point.  

“I told you, I’m still getting used to the shield!" 

"Eat a cock!” Y/n shot back. 

Bucky sighed, grabbing hold of Y/n’s hand to inspect it carefully. All the vulgar words she had planned to use on Sam were quickly lost to her flustered thoughts and her scarred face fell into an awestruck expression. 

Thankfully he didn’t see the pink that dusted her cheeks, only frowning slightly at her new appendage. It was small in his larger hands, but so was the rest of her hand and she quickly retracted it before she could start to enjoy the feeling. Bucky’s fingers followed hers for a split second, chasing the warmth that she provided but he caught himself, letting his hands drop to his side with a deeper frown. 

“How long will it take for it to grow back?” He asked. She shrugged, looking down at the dried patches of blood still lingering around the new finger. 

“Eh, like 10 minutes. I’ll be fine. One time this huge motherfucker, Juggernaut, ripped me clean in half like a damn phone book. Well, it wasn’t clean. It was messy-it was so fucking terrible.” Y/n laughed, unaware of the alarmed look Bucky and Sam shared. 

“What happened to your legs?” Sam questioned reluctantly, knowing the answer wasn’t something he really wanted to know. He was just so damn curious. 

“No idea.” Y/n hummed quietly, looking off into the distance as if searching for her literal other half. The men watched her with vivid concern, trying in vain to force away their own theories about the whereabouts of Y/n’s legs. 

“We have another mission. Suit up and meet at the jet in an hour.” Bucky told them, his voice stony in a way that only happened when he was upset. He then turned, storming out of the room leaving Sam and Y/n with equally confused faces. 

“The fucks wrong with Terminator?” Y/n questioned, jerking a thumb back at the door. Sam shrugged, lifting himself up from his desk, trying not to give Y/n the satisfaction of watching him limp. She noticed though. She always did. 

•••

“Getting real tired of these HYDRA motherfuckers!” Y/n yelled, firing at one of the agents as she ran down the infinite looking hall. Bucky ran alongside her, his metal arm braced out in front of them to deflect bullets. 

Well most of them. 

“Fuck!” Y/n screamed, slamming her hand down over her left breast with an appalled expression. Bucky froze as did the HYDRA agent that shot her, equally shocked. 

“You shot me in the fucking boob!” She screamed, disbelief and vengeance lacing her words. “Oh shit, that fucking does it. I’m shooting you right in the dick, cum bucket.” She promised, her smile venomous as she directed the gun at the man’s groin and fired without hesitation. 

The man cried out in agony as he fell to his knees, making Bucky visibly flinch beside her as she shot again. “Y/n.” He warned, looking around at the hall which was slowly flooding with more agents. “We have to move on." 

"Not yet. Not until this guy’s kids come out of his bitch like pudding!” Y/n stepped forward, firing again even though the man had already become unconscious. Only the click from her empty clip seemed to calm her rage and she growled in frustration. 

“Stupid!” Y/n shouted at herself, slamming the now unless gun into her thigh holster. The man on the ground with an ever growing puddle of red growing around his lower half was a gruesome sight but it made her smile. “Worth it.” She whispered with a smirk. 

“Sam’s waiting for us outside!” Bucky reminded, turning around them and kicking one of the agents into the group behind him. The harshness in which he had been forced into them made them fall, buying Bucky and Y/n sometime while they recovered but not much. “The elevator is our best bet outta here." 

No sooner had he said it, Bucky immediately stopped, glaring at the sight before them. A dozen men came around the corner, blocking their path with an older man in a suit at the front. 

"Whoa there, buddy, you’re within 100 feet of a school. Don’t make me call your parole officer.” Y/n mocked, putting her hands on her hips as she stared down the man at the center. 

His brows furrowed in confusion and he looked around at the other men, hoping one of them might fill him in. The agents behind the pair had gotten back to their feet, coming to block the other direction of the hall, cutting off all means of escape. 

“You have nowhere to run, give us the drive and I promise your death will be quick.” The man demanded. Y/n glanced over at Bucky, her taunting expression obvious to him even under her mask. He couldn’t help but let a small smile slip as she turned back to the man. 

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there, pal. Sorry to steal your whole Dr. Evil moment but there’s been a change of plans.” Y/n started, menacingly stepping toward the man. There was still a fair distance between them but it was close enough to make the man cower. 

“If you leave right now, I might-

let you keep your hands. If not, well, let’s just say you’re gonna have a tough time tickling your pickle tonight.” She smirked at the older man. Some of the men were baffled by the woman before them, unsure if they should be fighting her or not. Seriousness was never one of Y/n’s strong suits. Unlike people such as Captain America and Colossus, Y/n ran on violence and smartass remarks. This was in every aspect of her life even in her grieving process and while this wasn’t the healthiest of methods she didn’t really care. 

“Kill them.” The man ordered, sinking back into the group, as they stepped threateningly closer. Y/n nearly smiled under her mask. She loved it when they played it hard to get. 

“Time to kick it old school.” Y/n announced, reaching behind her and tugging free her dual swords. She spun them expertly in her hands, bringing one above her head while the other stretched out in front of her. “Bring it on, cock thistle." 

Bucky stood in awe as he watched her. The thumping in his chest was a forgotten feeling. It was something that died when he fell off the train and only just recently had it been revived. Ironically it was the one woman who couldn’t die who had brought his ability to love back to life. 

And for that she owned his heart. 

A single bullet rang out but Y/n was much faster than the bullet, swinging down the katana and slicing it clean in half. A moment of confused silence rang out through the hall, tension rising faster than the bullet that just tore through the air. 

Like the shot at the beginning of a race, the simple sound made everyone erupt into conflict. Multiple men swormed Bucky, crashing him into the wall but struggling to pin him there. Bucky was stronger than all of them but they just kept coming, a mess of men grabbing hold of his limbs and immobilizing him. 

Y/n charged forward, dropping to her knees and leaning back as she moved to slide under the man closest to her. He cried out as she cut off his hand, a soft thud on the ground telling her that her sword had gone clean through. She rose again, turning and bringing one of her feet up to plant herself before, digging her katana into the man’s back. The man fell limp on the ground, his dismembered hand still gripping the gun he had pointed at her. 

"Need a hand?!” Y/n shouted, glancing over at Bucky’s predicament. He looked back at her, his face twisted into a provoked expression. That was the only answer she needed and she quickly rolled under the rain of gunfire directed at her, landing a few feet from Bucky. She stretched out her sword, sliding the edge through the small space next to the tigger, lifting the gun and hurling it in Bucky’s direction. 

He caught it effortlessly, overlapping his metal fingers atop the dead man’s butchered hand and pressing the barrel to one agent’s skull. He made quick work at taking out three of the men, evening the playing field enough to overpower the men. He shouted as he forced himself forward, his pure brute force powerful enough to throw back a few of the men. 

Taking advantage of their stupor, he hammered his fist into the face of the agent next to him, causing blood to spill from his nose as he stumbled back. Bringing his elbow back into the next man, he knocked him unconscious before breaking free. Bucky pivoted on his heel to attack the agent hurling themselves at him once more. His hands came to fist the straps of the man’s uniform, thrusting him up into the ceiling and shattering the fluorescent light above them. The agent fell into a pile on the floor, the glass from the light scattering over his unconscious form. 

Y/n launched to her feet, slamming her knee into the chest of another man forcing him into the wall before driving her sword into his chest. Once retracting the blade, he sunk to the ground smearing blood down the wall as he collapsed. Quickly returning to her feet, she sprinted a few feet, pounding her foot into the wall as she vaulted over the next man, slicing his throat as she went.

“You stupid bitch!” A voice shouted over the chaos, catching Y/n’s attention. She tilted her head as she looked at him, the white lenses in her mask widening. 

“Excuse me, shit brains? Since I’m an Avenger now that’s terrorism right?” She questioned, turning to Bucky. Noticing he was occupied she rounded back to the man, narrowing her eyes at him. “As Scoutmaster Kevin once told me many years ago.” Y/n took large strides as she made her way to him, murderous intent rolling off of her in waves as she wiped the blood from her sword onto her leather clad forearm. 

“I’m about to fuck your shit up." 

The man howled in pain as she pelted her sword into his knee, the sharpened blade piercing through his kneecap and burying itself into the floor behind him. Y/n ran forward, kicking the blade further in causing the joint to snap with a sickening crunch. 

Grabbing hold of the man’s head, she flew forward, flipping over him as she balanced her weight on his already unsteady form. She landed behind him, pulling his head back with a harsh tug. Knocking out his other knee, she forced him down, bringing her other katana to his throat while her foot rose to settle between his shoulder blades. In one swift movement, she pushed him down, digging her blade into his neck with a satisfying slice. 

Bucky met her eye as the man dropped, the gurgling from his throat echoing through the hall. Bucky’s gaze was surprised but not disgusted. Instead he marveled at the sight of her, astonished by Y/n’s display of atrocious violence yet fierce beauty. Never had he seen anything like it before Y/n entered his life and while he should’ve been horrified by half of the things she did he couldn’t. Because ever since she joined their team she had only done those things to destroy the same organization that had destroyed him. And he couldn’t get enough. 

Y/n looked away, flustered under his gaze. She couldn’t handle the way he sent chills down her spine and butterflies to her stomach. It was cliche but it was happening and she refused to face it. "I see the elevator.” She told him, catching sight of the leader trying to run out of the corner of her eye. Her head whipped around, her hand reaching forward to grab the blade still plunged in the dead man’s knee before chucking it at the escapee. 

The sword sunk into his skull pinning him to the wall as Bucky took out the remaining men beside him. “We have to hurry, our cover’s been blown and Sam can’t wait around for too long.” Y/n nodded in acknowledgement, sheathing her sword as he came to stand next to her. 

Y/n glanced around at the bodies scattered around the hall. It was quite a scene, blood splattered along the walls and floor, bullet holes littering the plaster and the light fixture above them flickering wildly as it struggled to keep the hall lit. 

“Oh, I am so touching myself tonight.” Y/n groaned at the sight making a soft pink flush across Bucky’s cheeks. The mere thought of it sent blood rushing to his face and he shifted awkwardly as it rushed to other places as well. But before he could mumble an embarrassed response, shouts from more agents echoed down the hall cutting short any sort of awkward conversation he could have mustered. He quickly shuffled through the corpses, dragging Y/n along with him as she quickly plucked her other sword from the man’s skull.  

They ran around the corner coming up on the elevator fast. The agents giving chase were catching up and Bucky urged Y/n in front of him, instinctively trying to protect her. Once reaching the elevator, he ripped open the doors, too distracted by the growing danger the agents presented to notice the fact that the elevator wasn’t even there as he stepped forward. 

But Y/n noticed and she quickly grabbed him, spinning them to where he was out of the way. However in the process she forced herself over the edge, falling back clumsily. 

For a split second Bucky reached forward, trying desperately to catch her but she was already falling. She slipped through his fingers dropping the eleven floors to the bottom of the elevator shaft, landing with a sickening thud. 

Bucky choked on his breath, staring down at her still and twisted form as his heart clenched in his chest. Flashbacks of his own fall began to overwhelm his already cluttered mind and he almost wanted to scream. 

It was 2 agonizing seconds before she moved, a loud shout echoing through the shaft. 

“Motherfucker! I think I just shat my spleen!” Y/n moaned, rolling onto her side. Bucky let out a relieved chuckle and looked behind him, mumbling his own curse before jumping down after her. His metal arm grasped onto the cables, slowing his fall but the screeching of metal on metal seemed to amplify in the confined space. 

Once reaching the bottom he jumped off, crouching down beside her as her blood began to pool around her head. “Shit! I don’t know what hurt more, falling eleven stories or listening to your arm! It’s like two tractors trying to- Fuck!” She cried as his arms slid under her body, pulling her up against his chest. 

“I found the elevator.” Y/n laughed dryly as she pointed above them, the said elevator hanging a few floors above the floor they had been on. “How convenient.” She mumbled, glaring up at the air as if focusing her annoyance toward a certain writer who enjoyed torturing her readers. 

Bucky was oblivious to her turmoil, instead shaking his head at his stupidity and cursing himself for letting his feelings for her distract him. It was his fault she fell. Is this how guilty Steve had felt?

“We’ll have to have Sam meet us on the ground instead.” Bucky grunted, kicking open the doors to the ground level. He ran out into the room, his grip on Y/n remaining firm as he headed to the exit. 

“Nothing like falling 100 or so feet to get you going, am I right?” Y/n snickered at her own joke, trying to ignore the erratic beating of her heart as his cologne invaded her senses. 

They made it out, the sky blooming in a beautiful shade of orange as the sun began to set. Y/n admired it for a moment, smiling when the quinjet came into view. Allowing her to slip out of his arms, Bucky planted his hands on her waist to insure she was steady before bashfully shying away as Sam landed. 

“Come on!” He shouted, opening the back ramp for them. Bucky followed Y/n as she ran up to the jet and climbed up the ramp, keeping an eye behind them as the HYDRA agents ran outside. The ramp closed just in time and Y/n let out a relieved laugh as she fell onto the bench inside, whopping amusingly. 

“Well, that was a shit show. Got this little fucker though.” She grunted, pulling the drive out of one of her pockets before handing it over to Sam. He accepted it, eyeing her with a rare look of concern. 

“What the hell happened to you?" 

"Decided to take a swan dive off the eleventh floor. Not my highest record but still fucked me in the ass.” She laughed, tugging off her mask. Her hair was matted and bloody, sticking up in one spot from her mask but any effort at soothing it was pointless. The scarred tissue around her lips and nose contorted in discomfort and sweat had coated her brow from their fight. 

She was healing already but it didn’t ease her any as her bones reset and her organs reformed. It was an excruciating process but she didn’t complain, instead pulling out her gun and observing it as Bucky sat down next to her. 

“Who’s balls I gotta fondle to get some tacos? I’m starving.” She nagged, dropping her mask and gun on the floor before stretching out across the bench on her stomach. Her head rested on Bucky’s leg making his blood run cold as her chin brushed the inside of his thigh. 

“You offering?” Sam replied, raising a suggestive brow as Y/n’s new position. 

“You wish.” Y/n winked at him, making Sam shake his head disapprovingly. 

“Eh, you’re not my type.” He insisted, sharing a playful glare with her. They had a confusing relationship but most of her relationships were. Sam didn’t hesitate to tease her or join in on her pranks, much to Bucky’s chagrin. Y/n rather enjoyed Sam’s company and she knew he felt the same though they seemed to hate each other. 

“I’m nobody’s type, Warren Worthington. I’m kinda the, 'if I squint really hard I can pretend you’re the non-blue version of Mystique- Lawrence not Romijn- so I’ll fuck you’ kinda gal.” She rambled, not caring to explain who the hell she was talking about. But she didn’t have to. Bucky was already frowning. 

Y/n wasn’t lacking confidence, no that was the one thing she had an abundance of. She knew exactly what people thought of her horribly scarred body and she chose not to give a shit. But what upset Bucky the most was the fact that she believed herself to be unwanted. Did she truly believe that she was undesirable or was she just joking? 

“Want some?” Y/n questioned beside him, holding up a small white package labelled 'Y/n’s cocaine’. He shook his head, his brows furrowing as he wondered why on Earth she thought that moment was a good time to offer him cocaine. Or how any time was the right time.  

She shrugged, ripping open the bag and pouring some of the white powder into her gloved hand and inhaling it harshly. He winced at the sight but her drug problem wasn’t the cause of his downcast expression. Rather the fact that the beautiful woman who had introduced herself as Deadpool seemed to be oblivious to his feelings. 

Bucky couldn’t get the sick feeling to subside the whole way back to the newly rebuilt compound. 

•••

“Here I go, here I go, here I go again. Girls, what’s my weakness? Men!” Y/n sang along, ignoring the strange looks from the man in the elevator as she danced along with the song blaring on her portable radio. “Ok then, chillin’, chillin’, mindin’ my business." 

The elevator opened on the floor where most living quarters and showers were kept, hers included and she stepped out with a bit of a jig as she kept pace with the beat. "Yo, Salt, I looked around, and I couldn’t believe this. I swear, I stared, my niece, my witness.” The soft patter of her feet down the hall was soothing as she lifted her arms above her head, swaying slightly with the music as she twirled, barely missing the agent who was coming out of his own room. 

“The brother had it goin’ on with somethin’ kinda, uh. Wicked, wicked had to kick it

I’m not shy so I asked for the digits.” Y/n rolled her shoulder rhythmically as she side-stepped past him, keeping her moves swift and joyful as she danced along to the song. The showers weren’t too far now but her loud music was slowly catching the attention of people who had already called it a night, summoning them out into the hall. 

“A ho? No, that don’t make me. See what I want slip slide to it swifty. Felt it in my hips so I dipped back to my bag of tricks.” Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as Bucky stepped out into the hall. He was dressed in a much more comfortable looking attire of sweatpants and a t-shirt and while it was plain it still sent a familiar tingle to her core. 

Opting to push aside her unwelcomed feelings toward the man, she continued on deciding to have a little fun with it as she went. 

“Then I flipped for a tip, make me wanna do tricks for him.” She spoke along to the song, making eye contact with Bucky as she did. His eyes seemed to glue to her hips, watching them with a guilty expression, the gentleman in him fighting his obvious stares. He tried with all his might to drag his gaze elsewhere, only managing to lift them to her half-masked face with a flustered expression. 

“Lick him like a lollipop should be licked.” Y/n winked, flicking her tongue sensually. The line sent a deep flush to his cheeks as she came to stand before him, her fingers racking his t-shirt. 

“Came to my senses and I chilled for a bit. Don’t know how you do the voodoo that you do. So well it’s a spell, hell, makes me wanna shoop shoop shoop.” Y/n smirked, spinning on the ball of her foot and walking off toward the showers, a bit of a pep in her step as she left Bucky absolutely flabbergasted. 

The music faded along with the scent of her perfume and Bucky lingered on the senses, his heart racing wildly. He was so distracted in fact that when Sam crept up beside him, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he followed after Y/n, he didn’t even try to object. For now he would bask in what was left of her presence and the frantic pace of his heart. 

But he couldn’t enjoy the feeling for long. 

•••

“Sam!" 

Bucky knew he would regret not stopping his birdbrained friend. Said perpetrator now ran full speed down the hall toward the kitchen, arms cradling Y/n’s suit urgently. Sam sprinted behind Bucky, hoping his super soldier best friend might be able to spare him his life as the raging Merc with a Mouth made her way to him. 

Poor Bucky didn’t even have time to process what Sam’s arms held before, Y/n came storming in clad in only her mask, water dripping from her untucked hair and other areas. "Sam, you dick kicking fucktard! Give me my fucking suit, now!” Bucky tried in vain to shield his eyes but it was too late. He had seen enough to fuel his fantasies for the rest of his life and any hope at burying his painfully unreciprocated feelings were now dead. 

“No! You practically live in this thing, it’s disgusting!” Sam yelled back, climbing onto the counter to stuff the suit behind the fridge. “You’re banned from it until you wash it!" 

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?! You crammed it in further than a priest goes into a 6 year old boy!” Y/n screamed back, marching threateningly over to the counter where Sam stood. 

Bucky didn’t know what he admired more, her lack of shame as she paraded around in the nude or her lack of remorse as she grabbed Sam’s ankle, brutally yanking him and causing him to crash onto the hard surface. 

“Motherfucker! I did not come down here and ruin that poor teenage boy’s virgin eyes for you to be a punk ass bitch!” She screamed, pointing in the direction she had just come from. Sam groaned, sparing a glance in the direction. 

“What’s Spiderbrat doing here?” He huffed, gripping his ribs tightly as he tried to rise from the ground. 

“I don’t know.” Bucky mumbled, putting his hand against his temple as he attempted to remove the soaked Y/n from his sights. 

“Spiderman?! That was Spiderman?! I have an obligation to the fans!” Y/n cheered excitedly before spinning around and running off down the hall. “Wait Spidey!” She cried, her feet slapping the tile in wet smacks. 

“I swear to God if she takes his virginity. Y/n!” Sam yelled after her, flying up from the ground and speeding after her. Y/n screamed as she slipped, a loud crash echoing down the hall as Sam cried out in pain. 

Bucky practically shook as he struggled to erase her from his mind. He couldn’t do this to himself. It was in her nature to be inappropriate and flirtatious. He couldn’t allow himself to read into it. He couldn’t handle the rejection.  

•••

Bucky needed some air. He had sat in his room for an hour trying to recover his composure. His heart still raced and his face hurt from how much he had been blushing but nothing seemed to stop it. 

Venturing up to the roof wasn’t like him. Usually he would go on a run or try his luck at the training room but today he wanted to just sit alone and think. However once reaching the roof he found that wouldn’t be the case. 

Y/n hummed quietly along to her radio, swinging her feet cheerfully over the edge of the building as she sewed back together the bullet holes in her recovered suit. It was a routine of hers, one she only started to develop when Blind Al refused to do it anymore. 

Bucky stepped forward quietly, not recognizing the tune but loving the way it sounded from her. She wore a simple pair of shorts and tank top, exposing much of her scarred skin but not as much as he had seen earlier. He was grateful she unknowingly took pity on him but covering up, coming to stand a few feet behind her. 

Tying off the sting, she reached over to the box of band-aids, pulling out a Hello Kitty themed one before slapping it on over the stitch. Y/n cheered out triumphantly, holding up her suit to inspect it before draping it over the ledge beside her. A half eaten burrito was set on her other side and she absently reached for it, taking a bite out of it as she bobbed her head to the music. 

“You wanna bite?” She questioned, mouth still full with the food. Bucky mentally cursed himself for being caught but gave into her offer, coming to stand beside her. She handed him her burrito and he hesitantly took it, biting into it carefully. 

“You owe me 5 bucks. That show you got downstairs wasn’t free.” Y/n smirked, lighting the tense atmosphere a little. Looking up at her, he had no choice when a smile crept onto his face. Everything about her seemed to fill him with a giddy excitement, like riding a roller coaster. Y/n was a roller coaster of a person. 

“Only 5 bucks. Little cheap if you ask me.” He replied smoothly, earning a giggle from her. She shrugged shamelessly, swinging her legs over to his side of the ledge. 

“Gave you the ol’ bestie discount. Pay 10 dollars more and I’ll even throw in a night of your wildest dreams.” Y/n winked, hating how much she adored the pink that dusted his cheeks. 

He shook his head with a light chuckle. “No, I wouldn’t want it to happen like that.” He replied, flinching at his own words. Her brow furrowed but judging by his mortified expression she decided to leave it alone. 

Grabbing his hand she gestured for him to sit next to her and he did, climbing up cautiously as she turned back around. It was strangely soothing on the edge, the risk of falling sending a small thrill through them. Y/n had a way of giving him tiny bursts of joy, something he’d never experienced before. Not for a very long time. 

He couldn’t begin to describe the way she could make his heart race with a simple glance. In training when she takes him down he finds the fact that she could end him with ease peculiarly enticing. He’d experienced a variety of experimental drugs but never the recreational type. Though he imagined the high he’d receive would be very similar to how Y/n made him feel. 

She gave him a buzz that he slowly began to crave. Life before her just seemed so dull and he never wanted to go back to that. He’d become a bit of an addict for her presence and he felt safe in doing so. Losing her to the ravages of battle as he had so many before was impossible and Bucky felt that his feelings toward her could help him move on. 

The breeze flushed against their bodies, turning Y/n’s attention to the stars flickering above. The way she gazed up beside him, reminded Bucky of dates he had in the 40s. They were simple and sweet, always ending with a soft peck to his cheek or lips.

Imagining Y/n on one of these dates was like seeing a pig fly but he didn’t care. His old life was gone and no one helped him move on from it better than Y/n even if she was unaware. In the past women were polite and lovable and Y/n was anything but. 

She was foul mouthed and wildly inappropriate, constantly saying things he would’ve never dreamed of hearing from the women he used to date. Her dark humor was wrong and he still struggled to understand it at times. She killed without hesitation or remorse and in the most gruesome ways one could imagine, not giving the action a second thought. All of this was new to him and while at first he disliked everything she stood for, he couldn’t help but fall in love with her as time passed. 

She was everything that was so new to him, yet still carrying the underlying characteristics he loved so much. She was brave and reckless, willing to give her life for others. Her morals were still there yet buried deep within her, never to be exposed unless she encountered something truly corrupt. 

Her decisions were rash and not thought through, her lack of mortality seeming to make most situations trivial to her. But he suspected she was like that even before her mutation. Despite her carelessness in battle, she cared so much more than she’d let anyone know. People she considered friends, need never fear any danger for she would eliminate any threat that dared show its face. 

But what he loved the most was her strength. While her physical abilities were amazing and dared outmatch his own, he loved her emotional strength more. She had experienced so much pain, like he had but she still managed to smile. Still managed to make him smile. And he loved her for it. 

“Thank you for saving my life today.” He spoke earnestly. Y/n shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, gazing out over the city. 

“No worries. Couldn’t have ya becoming a pancake, now could we?” She laughed, trying to mask the true worry that started to set in. What if he had fallen instead of her? What would she have done?

'Probably would have gone after him.’ Y/n sighed silently, knowing it was true. 

“No, I guess not.” Bucky offered a smile, hoping she didn’t notice the guilt in his eyes. Another uncomfortable silence settled over them but Y/n didn’t seem to mind. 

“You’re beautiful.” Bucky mumbled quietly, almost timid under her stunned stare. He didn’t regret saying it, only wishing he had said it more often. 

The way the night sky accented her face was glorious even though she was scarred. Her scars had never really been an issue to him. The first time he had seen them she was reluctant but understood their need to see the person behind the mask to gain their full trust. He hadn’t been anticipating such intense scars but he wasn’t repulsed by them. In fact he thought she was breathtaking and he wondered just how different she had looked without them. 

When she explained how the scarring had come to be, telling them that her disfigurement was actually because of her cancerous cells mutating, he felt sorry for her. He knew what it was like to be tortured until he became something else and he hated the idea of her experiencing it as well. Yet even through all that she insisted she was 'a sexy motherfucker’ and he couldn’t help but agree. 

Her hair swayed with the breeze, falling gracefully around her face and outlining her shocked expression as she tried to figure out if he had really complimented her or if she had just misheard him over the music. The glimmer of sincerity in his eyes caused her heart to leap, making it harder to reply. 

Her eyes were her most beautiful feature. The one thing that hadn’t changed since her mutation and he found that he was able to read her better through her eyes. Whether or not her eyes displayed the same enjoyment her smile showed, told him everything he needed to know since she covered almost everything about her with some smartass remark. Her eyes gave her away. Her eyes were everything. 

“Thank you.” Y/n whispered, unable to piece together any sort of snarky reply. She couldn’t even break her stare as she gazed into his compassionate eyes. A tug at her heart pulled her toward him and as much as she tried to fight it she couldn’t shake it. 

Bucky felt it too as he cautiously leaned forward, his metal hand coming to caress her cheek as his eyes absently dropped to her lips. Her breath flushed over his own sending chills along his skin. Their lips ghosted over one another, barely brushing in the tenderest of touches. 

Yet a sudden change of song sent Y/n tearing herself from his grasp, a crestfallen expression taking place of her once longing gaze. The upbeat tune rattled her to the core, dredging up the memories she so desperately tried to subdue. 

We're talking away.

I don't know what, I'm to say. 

I'll say it anyway. 

Today's another day to find you

“What? What’s wrong?” Bucky gasped, pulling away with a concerned frown as he reached out to hold her arms. She shied away from his touch, making him instantly retract his hands, fear of hurting her flashing across his face. 

“No, uh, I’m okay. I’m sorry I’m just-I…” she trailed off trying to find the words to blame it on herself. She knew Bucky still feared the Soldier that lurked in the darkest parts of his mind, waiting for the right moment to break free and destroy everything and everyone he cared for. She knew she was one of those people. And she knew she had just terrified him by moving away but she couldn’t help it. 

“I’m not ready for this." 

Shying away. 

I'll be coming for your love, okay?

Take on me. Take me on.

I'll be gone. In a day or two

"I’m not ready for something meaningful. I’m not ready for you." 

Bucky’s face fell at her confession, shifting away from her. She wanted to reach out or say something, anything to make him stay but the ever growing guilt in her heart rendered her speechless. 

She couldn’t do this. Not to Bucky. Not to herself. And not to Wade. 

But she couldn’t stay silent. 

"I had a boyfriend.” She spoke, her voice shaky and fragile. Bucky froze, unable to lift his gaze to her. “His name was Wade. I was with him before I got cancer and he was there when I got diagnosed. He was there when I refused treatments and he was still there when I became this.” She gestured to herself, deciding to spare Bucky the story of her avoiding Wade for all that time because she feared how he’d react when he saw what she had become. 

Much like Bucky, Wade didn’t care and after she saved him from Francis, they somehow made a life together. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of him, his loving gaze and dirty mouth bringing a bittersweet smile to her face. 

“His crazy matched my crazy, big time. A real ride or die type. Oh, that man’s mouth could make me sound like a nun. And we were going to start a life together.” She hastily wiped the beginning of her tears as Bucky listened quietly beside her. “But I was reckless and arrogant and I got him killed before we could." 

The hurt Bucky felt from her rejection was slowly starting to fade as she explained, his intense emotions starting to morph into sympathy. 

"I loved him more than anything in this life and no matter what I did, I couldn’t get back to him. Immortality is a bitch like that but I thought, maybe just maybe if I somehow managed to destroy myself completely, I would be with him again. But nothing worked.” Her voice broke as her emotions overcame her. 

It took everything Bucky had to not pull her into his arms right there and hold her until she couldn’t stand it anymore. But he couldn’t. Her heart still belonged to the man who made her into who she was and he had to respect that, however painful it was. 

So needless to say. 

I'm odds and ends. 

But I'll be stumbling away. 

Slowly learning that life is okay.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky mumbled, unsure of what else to say. He’d experienced loss before but never something that made him want to end his life. For 70 years he lacked the freedom to do so and now that he did, he wanted to live for himself. Wanted to experience everything that had been taken from him. 

But now it was Y/n that lacked freedom. She was brave enough to venture into the unknown for Wade only to be dragged back by her immortality. The two were very different, as they always had been. And while Bucky thought it made them better together, Y/n could only see it as a reason to stay apart. 

Wade was her other half, her soulmate. Bucky could never replace him. And she could never ask him to. 

“It’s not your fault.” Her reply was sincere but dulled, as if the automatic response wasn’t what she wanted to say yet happened to be the only thing she could manage. She wanted to say so much more. She wanted to tell Bucky that while Wade was her first and most beloved partner, it didn’t mean he was her only. 

Ignoring the way Bucky made her feel was growing more difficult and try as she might she couldn’t deny it any longer. She loved Bucky. 

From the very beginning she had been hooked by the super soldier and every tragic thing that had happened to him. She loved his rare but breathtaking smile, the one that made her dizzy and weak at the knees. She loved the moments when he’d let his frustration out through hushed swears and absolutely adored the times he’d remind her that his vocab was that of an army man from the 1940s. He could spout off a string of profanities that would make a sailor cower and even though he always apologized after, the action only made her feel more at home among the team. 

She loved what a gentleman he was, even to her, who was as unladylike as they came. He’d never hesitate to go out of his way to do little chivalrous acts that made her heart race and it only made her crave the 40s man more and more. 

But what she loved most of all was how much he understood her. He knew what it was like to be forced to the breaking point until he became something he wasn’t. He knew what it was like to not trust your own mind and for that Y/n loved him. 

But she still loved Wade more. 

Say after me. 

It's no better to be safe than sorry

Take on me. Take me on. 

I'll be gone. In a day or two.

“Bucky, I-" 

A familiar feeling stopped Y/n dead in her tracks. A sense that told her something was wrong and one she had only felt the night she lost Wade. It was like the world around her slowed down and all she could hear was the frantic beating of her heart as she looked out into the open night air. 

A jet engine roared through the sky, coming faster than Bucky could react in his moment of weakness. Fortunately Y/n was much faster, grabbing hold of the super soldier and dragging him off the ledge. They ran across the rooftop, ducking back behind the small concrete entrance that housed the elevator back down to the building. 

A harsh explosion followed not too soon after they had seeked cover and Bucky moved forward, bracing her against the wall as he did his best to keep her steady as the building rattled on impact. Heat enveloped them and Y/n tried her best to ignore the heat rising to her own face, being pressed so close to Bucky’s chest. 

The jet flew past the building and into view, rounding back for another attack. Y/n watched it with wide eyes as it flew straight at them, readying another missile. 

"Look out!” She screamed, tugging furiously at Bucky’s t-shirt as she dragged them to the other side of the concrete housing. They moved fast, making sure to stay ducked down to avoid becoming more of a target than they already were. 

Thankfully for them, the jet didn’t strike the roof, allowing them to slip into the elevator and begin the descent to the rest of the compound. The aftermath of both explosions shook throughout the building and the lights inside the car had turned red, telling all those in the building that they were on high alert. 

“It is those HYDRA fucks? What do they want?” Y/n questioned. Bucky didn’t reply at first, silently calculating their next move. It was a cold reaction but something he couldn’t quite shake from his Winter Soldier days. 

“They’re here for the drive.” He answered finally as the doors opened up to reveal the lab floor. Sam ran to them frantically, leaving the two scientists to back up files and technology in case the attack went too far. 

“Good! You’re here. I’m going out to try and stall the jet, you guys get a quinjet and meet me outside.” Sam instructed, heading into the elevator only to have Bucky grab his arm. 

“Sam, they want the drive. They won’t stop until they have it.” Bucky explained carefully, his eyes returning to the seriousness they always had during missions. 

Sam shook his head, “What do you expect us to do? Hand it over?” He questioned. Bucky shook his head, all the plans he was able to put together ending in failure. There had to be something. 

“What if they think the drive is destroyed?" 

Bucky and Sam turned to Y/n, mutual looks of confusion taking hold of their features as she glanced back at the lab. The scientists had finished up and we’re now rushing past them to the elevator but Y/n’s eye caught something else. The drive was placed in a small container, Stark tech of some kind to make sure no external sources could get to it. 

"How would we do that? They’re not gonna take our word for it.” Sam protested. Y/n was already making her way to the drive, her own plan forming as she went. Bucky moved to follow her but she quickly turned around, as if sensing what he was doing. 

“Sam take Bucky with you. Distract the HYDRA assholes for as long as you can while I transfer the drive’s info to the safe house. Follow my lead.” Y/n demanded, rushing over to the desk which held the drive. 

“No way, I’m staying with-” Bucky was about to object but another explosion quaked the building, sending him back into the elevator. Sam grabbed hold of his arm before Bucky could react and the elevator closed, leaving Y/n alone. 

Bucky yelled out, forcing himself toward the buttons but Sam’s grip was tight and Bucky found he didn’t have the energy to fight him. Y/n’s plan would work, they always did. But he feared what she might do to herself in the process. 

“Why would you do that!?” Bucky shouted, trying to make up for his lack of fight through his words. Sam didn’t answer knowing Bucky was being irrational. Y/n insisted again and again she could do 'shit they’ve never seen’ as she fondly put it, but it hurt Bucky everytime he couldn’t save her. 

He’d watched her 'die’ countless times and each time he couldn’t do anything. It trudged up memories he’d rather forget. Memories of protecting Steve and still losing him to the one thing he couldn’t fight-…time. Memories of the helplessness he felt during his time at HYDRA. Memories of losing his old self, a part of him he’d never be able to save or recover. 

Bucky stormed through the hangar, heading toward the first quinjet he saw. It took every ounce of self control he could muster to not rip the door off the machinery but he managed to climb in, leaving the jet unscathed. 

Sam flew ahead with a couple of agents in their own quinjet while Bucky followed behind, ultimately taking his own route straight toward the attacking jet. He knew their technology well and knew the weakest points to hit but even if he took out this jet, another one would take its place eventually. There had to be a way to insure they wouldn’t come back. Maybe if he went back and took out the new boss? No, someone would rise up and take his place. 

His eyes narrowed as he began his attack on the jet, using the large guns installed within the aircraft. The HYDRA jet instantly maneuvered away from the shots but Bucky anticipated it and moved with them, raining as much fire as he could on them. 

But before he could advance on them any further, another quinjet launched out of the hangar, flying past at breakneck speeds. Bucky’s heart dropped when he heard Y/n over the radio. 

“Listen here you HYDRA nutsacks. If you want the drive, you’re gonna have to come get it. And I don’t play fair.” She taunted over the frequency, urging the enemy jet to follow her as she raced away from the building and Bucky. 

As she had expected the jet followed, sparing no expense as they hastily rushed through Bucky and Sam’s attacks. Nothing mattered but the drive and Bucky wished he had thought their mission through a bit more. He didn’t even know what was on the drive let alone how far HYDRA would go to get it back. 

But he soon found out how far they’d go to ensure their enemies didn’t have it. 

“Y/n, look out!” Bucky cried, unable to stop himself. He knew what Y/n was planning. She was meant to go down in the plane. But he wanted to stop it, hell at this point he would rather give the drive up. Y/n’s powers were amazing, yes but he couldn’t help but feel that one day her luck would run out, that one day she just wouldn’t come back the same. She’d be horribly changed like he had been. A monster. 

He couldn’t bare to see her become that. 

Y/n skillfully flipped the jet, steering a harsh right as the HYDRA jet stayed close on her tail. “Get the others out of here. I can handle this!” She called, keeping her words careful as to not alert the enemy of her plan. 

Sam listened, turning away to lead the other quinjet back to the headquarters but Bucky couldn’t. It wasn’t fair. He knew what it was like to die and come back and he couldn’t understand why Y/n was so willing. At first it was noble, giving her life for his but then she did it again and again. 

Bucky was terrified for her. Terrified she wouldn’t be Y/n anymore. And terrified of the reason she kept destroying herself. 

“Bucky go back! This isn’t your fight!” Y/n yelled at him, switching to a frequency only they could hear. 

“The hell it isn’t! The only reason you’ve been fighting HYDRA is because of me. I’m the fucking asshole that keeps leading you straight into harm’s way when I’m supposed to protect you!” He fought, following behind the chase.

Y/n groaned, frustrated by his insistence on keeping her safe. She didn’t need to be safe, if anything he should be protecting everyone else from her. “I never asked you to protect me! Why can’t you just leave me the fuck alone?!” Angry tears began to well in her eyes but she rapidly blinked them away, keeping her focus on the jet behind her as she began her trek up into the sky. 

Maybe if she flew high enough the HYDRA jet would stall long enough for her to get an advantage? 

“You know why!” Bucky spoke, his tone matching her own agitation. He really hoped he didn’t have to say it. Saying it at all was nerve-wracking but saying it in the middle of a fight? How could he spring that on her?

Y/n’s heart dropped as her grip tightened on the yoke. His words shot through her like a thousand bullets but she found herself unable to recover from it. It was all too familiar. Too depressing. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Y/n replied, praying to whoever had control of her miserable life that Bucky was mistaken. Maybe decades of being touch starved and deprived of love had made him think he cared about her. 

Unfortunately that wasn’t the case. 

“I love you, Y/n! Fuck you always make things so difficult and you never take anything seriously but I love you more than I’ve ever loved someone. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you but you keep dying before I can show you that." 

His confession was rough and forceful but still so heartfelt. Y/n wanted to cry at how much it reminded her of Wade’s but she didn’t allow her tears to consume her. Only pushed herself and the quinjet through the atmosphere, watching in the display as the HYDRA jet began to fall. 

"Please, say something.” Bucky pleaded, his voice fragile and broken. He knew rejection was imminent. Their talk on the roof told him that she wouldn’t accept his feelings. But he needed to get it out, needed to tell her before she died. 

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” She replied quietly before switching off her radio. Silence fell over the jet as she allowed the engine to shut off. Bucky flew past her, further into space, having not anticipated her sudden drop. 

She was alone again, free falling toward the earth once more like she had mere hours before. Although this fall would be much more fatal. More destructive. 

As she angled her jet straight toward the enemy jet, switching back on her engine and accelerating at deadly speeds, she found herself without a single comment. 

Not one word slipped past her lips as flames consumed her before she could even feel the impact. 

•••

The apartment was familiar. It was an apartment she had left to Weasel when she made a more permanent stay at the compound. She still visited from time to time but it didn’t look like this anymore. No, this place still had the messy bed with scribbled words on the chalkboard above it. It still had the colorful table and the warming sunlight shining through, a light Weasel usually blocked with curtains. Still had the memory wall full of pictures of her and Wade, a wall that was now bare. 

This was her and Wade’s home. 

“Red?” His voice rang out like heavenly bells and Y/n’s head whipped toward the sound. There he was, seated in the leather chair near the window. He looked just like he had the night she lost him. His hair was short and barely styled, having only grown a small amount in the time she had known him. There was a small amount of stubble along his lower face but his next words quickly dominated her observations. 

“What are you doing here?” She didn’t answer, wanting to study his face as long as she could. She wanted to refresh her mind with the image of his loving eyes and adorning smile. Wanted to forever remember the slit in his eyebrow from a long forgotten fight and the way his hands gripped the arms of the chair as he stood. 

“I died…again. I know you said it wasn’t my time but I just hoped, maybe this time it was?” Y/n spoke carefully, stepping forward, finding that the clothes she had worn seconds before had been replaced with one of Wade’s large t-shirts. 

Instead of moving to hold her and tell her she was right, that her time had finally come, he let his gaze fall. Her heart clenched in her chest and angry tears filled her eyes but she refused to allow them to fall, refused to let her chance at seeing Wade be cut short by her uncontrollable tears. 

“Who’s in charge of all this shit? Who fucked us over so bad that we can never be together?” Y/n snapped, turning her teary gaze toward the ground. She couldn’t bare to stare at the blurred wall separating her from Wade. Couldn’t stand to show up here time and time again only to be refused the one person she wanted most. 

“I don’t know, baby. Trust me if I did, you wouldn’t be there and I wouldn’t be here.” His voice was almost like a forgotten memory and Y/n hated her mind for allowing it to slip so far from her thoughts. He always spoke to her with such a tenderness, a tenderness he never used with anyone else. 

“I wanna stay with you.” Y/n pleaded, struggling to lift her eyes from the floor. Wade had begun to frown at her wish. She didn’t know why.

It was a sad frown like he wanted so desperately to agree but couldn’t. Wade knew his love still had a purpose in life and he couldn’t be selfish by asking her to stay. In the end nothing could make her stay, even if she begged for it on her knees. Because she still had a life waiting for her. A life without him. 

“Things are complicated now.” Wade tried to explain, moving closer to her. This wasn’t what Y/n wanted to hear and she stood in place, not moving an inch as hurt overcame her. 

“What do you mean?” Y/n questioned, trying not to sound as vulnerable as she knew she was. She wanted it to be over. To finally get the life with Wade she never had. But she could feel something tugging her back. It grew stronger with each passing second and she knew soon it’d reclaim her. But the feeling didn’t make her angry. She wasn’t upset. 

The feeling was overwhelming but in a good way. Like when someone says 'I love you’ for the first time. 

“Bucky.” Wade confessed suddenly, dragging Y/n’s attention away from the tug.  

“What-…?" 

"He loves you. You know that. Our times up baby.” His voice was miserable but stern. They never spoke so seriously before, even in the previous times she’d reached him in the afterlife. Every word was true even if it was his worst nightmare. And Y/n knew how much it pained him to say it. 

“No it can’t. I-” She tried to argue but found that there were no words to dismiss it. The tug was getting more powerful and familiarity washed over her. The tug was Bucky. He was her tether to the world and as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t let him go. 

But she couldn’t let Wade go either. 

“He loves you and as much as I want to do horrible, horrible things to him, I can’t. He can love you, hold you- fuck, he could give you a baby. All the things I can’t anymore.” Wade’s voice cracked and Y/n’s own tears began to fall, shaking her head at the mere thought of letting anyone other than him love her like that. 

“I need you to let me go before this gets too hard.” Wade begged. 

It broke Y/n to see him so lost, so shattered. This hurt him just as much as it hurt her but he was strong enough to push on. To tell her what she knew she needed to do, even if it was the last thing she wanted. 

He’d always been stronger than her. 

“Will we ever be together again?" 

In response, she received no words. Just a smile. A smile that told her everything would be okay. That no matter what happened it would be them against the world, even if she found love from another man. That smile told her more than any verbal answer could and put to rest the longing in her heart. 

"Kiss me like you miss me, Red." 

A bittersweet laughter echoed between them as she looked at him. All the love she’d felt for him was still lingering in her chest and she knew it’d never truly be gone. But another love was still there, one that was growing stronger like the tug she now felt.  

"Well, come here." 

Wade paced forward, moving through the barrier effortlessly and tugged her close to him like he had many times before. Her arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he pulled her up by her thighs, planting his lips on hers without missing a beat. 

Kisses with Wade were always passionate and hot but this one was different. His hold on her was tight like he knew it would be the last and his lips lightly caressed hers, pouring every ounce of adoration he had for her into the kiss. Y/n clung to him like her life depended it, feeling the tug become so powerful she feared she’d be ripped from his arms. When they pulled away there were no words spoken, just a gaze. 

Then she was pulled back. 

•••

When she woke up, she couldn’t feel anything, not even the air that flushed into her exposed lungs. Her chest was slowly piecing itself together and judging by her pounding headache, she figured her skull was doing the same.  

She no longer felt pain the same way others did and while she knew the process of her body morphing back to normal would be excruciating, that pain was dulled to her. All she could focus on was the voice calling out to her. 

It was only then that she looked around at where she was. The ground was cold under her skin, or at least what skin she had feeling in so far. The smoke from the crash was bellowing into the night sky above her but she couldn’t smell it. She was only just beginning to feel the nips of heat from the fire biting at her arms and legs, though she wasn’t sure if they were even attached to her anymore. 

The voice cut through the chaos like a beacon and Y/n couldn’t help but feel relaxed by it. It was soothing and a reassurance of safety came with it. 

Soon the owner of the voice forced his way through the debris, finding her battered body torn apart among the aftermath of the destruction. His eyes flashed with horror but he wasted no time in moving forward, yanking a heavy piece of metal out of her chest to free her. Y/n watched, not even knowing she had been impaled. 

Bucky had seen many horrible scenes before, most of them having been by his own hand but this was terrible. He was unsure if it was the fact that she’d done this to herself or if it was that she was forced to stay alive throughout the entire thing, but either way it unnerved him and he felt the need to get her out of there immediately. 

He grabbed hold of her torso, pulling her up into his arms and taking notice of the fact that one of her legs and ¾ of her left arm was missing along with most of her chest. But despite this she just smiled at him, leaning further into him. 

"Hey, Seb. Oh, wait, fourth wall! Fuck me!” A delusional giggle escaped her and Bucky brushed off her comment, trying to focus on getting her out. He wasn’t sure where her limbs had gone or if he should try to retrieve them but Y/n slowly losing consciousness in his arms urged him to get out of there and he did just that. 

“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. We’ll get you back to the med bay and you’ll be good as new.” He smiled at her and she nodded, knowing he was right. Didn’t make the process of self healing any less uncomfortable. 

But she couldn’t think of that right now. Wade’s words were still fresh in her mind. 

'He loves you. You know that.’

“Bucky.” She croaked, her own anxiety for what she was about to say overpowering everything else. The disaster around her didn’t matter and neither did the cracks in her chest as her ribs reformed. All that mattered was getting her words out before she lost consciousness. Before she lost her nerve. 

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’ll get you out of here.” Bucky assured, dismissing her call. Y/n frowned, reaching to grab hold of his face only to realize her arm had not yet grown back. She cursed silently, looking up at him. That crash was really a bitch. 

“Would you get your head out of your ass and listen to me?” She insisted, hating how vulnerable she was making herself. She hated being so emotionally weak in front of anyone other than Wade but she tried to listen to his wish. Tried to let him go. 

“Look, I care about you, alright?” She confessed, noting the way Bucky’s arms tightened on her and how he stilled instantly. “Ever since they fridged Wade, I never thought I’d care about anyone like I did him. But then you came along with your perfect smile and perfect eyes and ugh-God, why is this so hard?!” A groan escaped her as she let her gaze fall from him. It had always been easy with Wade, they fell into place like puzzle pieces but with Bucky it was harder. More real. 

His fingers curled around her waist, feeling the skin reshaping under his metal fingertips. Y/n was just loopy from the crash, he couldn’t take her confession seriously right? 

“Y/n, I-" 

"I know, I’m sorry. What I did on the roof was wrong, I was just scared-I’m-I’m still scared.” She admitted, her hold on him tightening desperately. Bucky frowned, guilt flooding him for putting her in such a conflicting and uncomfortable situation. 

He should’ve never said anything, should’ve never put her in the position where she had to force herself to move on from a lost love. It was wrong and terribly unfair. 

“Forget it, let’s get you somewhere safe, okay?” He replied, watching as her eyes grew heavy, losing her fight to stay awake. The looked like she wanted to argue but before she could she fell unconscious, allowing him to finally focus on escaping the wreck though his mind was cluttered with guilt and self hatred. 

It wasn’t fair. But then again life never was. 

•••

When Y/n woke up again her body was almost completely healed. Other agents were cautiously refilling the building after ensuring that no other HYDRA attacks were imminent. They had no reason to return after all, the drive was destroyed and as far as they knew, the information had gone down with Y/n. 

Bucky told himself he’d finally look at what the drive held since HYDRA had put up such a fight for it but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Y/n’s bedside. 

She’d been hooked up to several machines that would help her heal, something she’d surely throw a fit about when she awoke. She’d told them plenty of times that she didn’t need the whole 'hospital bullshit’ but it was just procedure. Plus Bucky suspected the medical personnel liked to piss her off as much as she did them. 

He would’ve found her curses amusing when she finally did regain consciousness but his nerves were too great. They’d left off in a serious and rather suspenseful moment and he almost wanted to disappear all together. 

Talking with Y/n was what he’d wanted to do all this time and best case scenario, he’d finally win her over. But he knew the worst case was more likely. He’d always managed to fuck things up and this was no different. 

He was wrong to force his feelings upon her and while he felt guilt and knew he’d be rejected, he wouldn’t have taken it back. It felt freeing to tell her. He was actually relieved she knew how much he cared for her. 

“What in the fuck nuggets is this bullshit?” Y/n snapped suddenly, yanking the IV from her arm and tossing it away from her with an annoyed glare. “I already told you guys-.” She stopped mid sentence, upon seeing Bucky sitting there. 

He looked tired and she wanted to make a joke to ease the nervous stare he directed at her but she couldn’t bring herself too. In the last 24 hours she’d been an emotional train wreck and while her heart screamed to tell Bucky whatever he wanted to hear, she knew things were more complicated than that. 

And deep down he knew that too. 

“Look, about what I said after the crash.” She began, running a hand through her hair. Bucky watched as she did so, hanging onto her every word. He’d remembered what she said or at least what it sounded like she was going to say. But had she meant it or was it out of pity? 

“I want you, okay?” She confessed, expelling all doubt from his mind. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush and quite frankly she was tired of struggling for words. So she spoke from the heart, even if it wasn’t very romantic. “I’ve liked you for a while but-…Wade’s death still hurts.” She continued. 

Bucky sat on the edge of his seat, his heart pounding in his chest as she spoke. It’d been so long since he’d had a chance at love and he already felt as though he’d messed it up. But then again they’d always been a little messy. 

“But I wanna try this. I know I said I wasn’t ready for anything serious but I wanna try us no matter how fucked up we are together.” Y/n told him, reaching for his metal hand and clasping it in both of hers. “I wanna fuck the world with you. I wanna fuck it so hard.” She smiled, earning a laugh from him.  

Her confession was overwhelming and clumsy but he took it like it was. Y/n was an overwhelming person and he was ready for that. He was so ready for whatever mayhem she had to offer. 

“Fuck the world, huh?” He questioned, amused as her eyes lit up with joy. 

“Yeah. You and me, Buck.” She promised, holding his hand tightly. His heart swelled at her words, shifting to sit on the bed with her as she leaned closer to him. 

“Deadpool and Winter Soldier. I kinda like it.” He said, smiling at her as she smirked. Dirty words began to develop on her tongue and before Bucky could even realize what he’d walked himself into, she was leaning toward his ear, her breath brushing his skin and leaving chills in its wake. 

“I bet you’ll like it even more when I say it in bed won’t you, Winter Soldier.” She spoke in his ear, her voice smooth and sultry. His face had flooded red but he refused to let himself get all flustered and speechless. 

There was once a time where he was a lady’s man and while he knew he was probably a little out of date, he was a fast study. And having known Y/n all this time had taught him a few things. 

“Only if you scream it." 

Y/n paused, looking back at him with a mix of shock and pride. She was at a loss for words and Bucky quickly accepted his victory, launching forward and putting his lips on hers. 

Despite her lustful comments her kiss was tender and passionate, a kind of kiss he’d longed from her for some time. A kiss that although hesitant was strong and heartfelt. 

They had some work to do and while their relationship would be chaotic, it was their chaos and he couldn’t ask for anything more. 

"I gotta know something.” Y/n admitted suddenly, pulling away from the kiss. Bucky was a little confused but nodded anyway, wondering what on Earth would be so important. 

“Who taught the Russo brothers about time travel, Endgame was so fucked."   

[myforeverforlife]

new beginnings, new surprises.

For @bloopbloopkai​! Single Dad Yixing and 42. “For the hundredth time, I’m not your babysitter.” + 91. “Scoot over a little bit, please.”

Pairing: Yixing x Fem reader

Word Count: 3,294

Masterlist

Recently, you'd been looking for another job to supplement your stint as a fitness instructor. You loved your schedule, but you also felt like you still had too much idle time. Plus, paying for rent was more difficult ever since your roommate moved out. The hard part was finding a job that wouldn't infringe on your hours at the fitness studio. Most job openings wanted you either early in the mornings, or at night: the same hours that you taught classes. 

But your friend Jongin, another instructor, had found you a promising job.

"My friend's been looking for a babysitter for a while. She's a great kid, you'll love her." 

"I don't know, Jongin." You rubbed the back of your neck worriedly. "I don't have a lot of experience with kids." 

"Can you hold a conversation?"

"Uh... sure? I guess?"

"Do you know anything about the Frozen movies?"

You thought back to your day at the movies with Chanyeol, both of you blasting the soundtrack in the car on the way home. "I know a good amount."

"Then you're perfect for the job! I really think you can do this, Y/N. You teach adults, how different can it be?"

"They're adults, Jongin, not a... how old is this kid?"

Jongin squinted, looking up as he thought. "Six?" 

"Six?!" You slumped against the floor of the empty fitness room, back hitting the mirror behind you. "I don't think I've talked to a kid since I was one."

Your friend squatted beside you, a pout on his lips as he thought of how to cheer you up. "Hey, if I can take care of her, you can too." 

"You have a niece and nephew, Jongin. You easily have more experience than me." 

"Okay, then how about this — try it out for one day, and I'll be there to help? Just so you get a feel for if you want to do this or not." 

"Your friend would be okay with letting a stranger play with their kid for a day?"

Jongin shrugged. "I can vouch for you! He'll trust you because he trusts me, Y/N. Promise." 

You sighed, stretching your legs out in front of you. One day as a test trial didn't seem too bad... "Okay. But you promise to be there for the entire time that day?"

Jongin nodded emphatically, bangs flopping against his forehead. "Yixing and Xinyue are going to love you, I know it."

You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. 

Jongin greeted his friend with a hug, both men all smiles and laughter. You innocently looked over Jongin's friend, eyes lingering on his deep-set dimples and the sleeve of tattoos decorating his left arm. Some of them appeared to be an arrangement of flowers, delicate petals in pastel hues dancing across his skin. A larger piece curled up his arm until it disappeared under his sleeve. He also had soft, tousled black hair that almost seemed curly. Upon first glance, he couldn't be much older than you. Jongin didn't tell you that his friend was this attractive.

"Y/N, this is Yixing." 

You flinched, gaze immediately jumping up to Yixing's face. The man extended a hand to you, shaking it firmly when you accepted. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. Jongin told me you're a good friend of his."

"Yeah, we've been working together for a while. Um, I really appreciate this. Jongin had nothing but good things to say about you and your daughter."

"He better." Yixing chuckled, dimples reappearing and making him look even more youthful — if that was even possible. "Come in, Xinyue's just watching a movie."

"Frozen 2?" Jongin asked as you took your shoes off.

"Third time already this week." Yixing shook his head good-naturedly. "Well, at least I know what kind of birthday to throw for her this year." 

Both men burst into laughter, falling into a familiar camaraderie. You followed them into the living room, where a small girl sat on the floor only a few feet away from the TV. Her long hair was plaited into two braids, mismatched hair ties adorning each one. 

"Xinyue," Yixing called out. "You're going to hurt your eyes if you sit that close."

"I'm not," the girl countered. She turned around, the frown on her face instantly replaced with a wide grin. "Uncle Jongin!" 

Jongin crouched down with his arms open as the girl got up, braids bouncing as she came over for a big hug. He peppered her face with kisses, even as she giggled and tried to escape. 

"Jongin's going to be here today while I go work for a bit," Yixing told his daughter. "And he brought a friend too." 

Xinyue perked up at that, staring at you over Jongin's shoulder. You didn't know what else to do, so you waved. "Hi, Xinyue, I'm Y/N." 

The six-year-old looked from you to her dad. When Yixing nodded, she waved back. "Hi," she said shyly, chin resting on Jongin's shoulder. 

"You know, Y/N loves Frozen too," Jongin said in a stage-whisper.

Xinyue looked at you with more interest this time, and you nodded in agreement. "I love Olaf! Who's your favorite character?" 

"Elsa!" the girl replied immediately. "Did you see when she was riding the water horse, and when she stopped all the pink fire, and when — "

"Xinyue," Yixing interrupted, trying to hide his laughter. "You're going to run out of breath if you keep talking that fast." He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead, playfully tweaking an ear. "Why don't you go finish the movie with Jongin while I talk to Y/N? She can watch it with you in a bit."

"Okay!" Xinyue jumped up and pulled Jongin over to the couch, launching right back into her passionate rant about Frozen. 

Yixing sighed, a fond smile on his face. "I apologize in advance if it gets to be a bit much." 

"Oh no, it's no problem," you replied sincerely. "I forgot how cute kids are when they talk about the things they love." 

"Me too, but there's only so many times I can talk about Frozen," Yixing said, eliciting laughter from you. He led you over to the kitchen, where he had written down a few reminders. 

"Today's my day off, but I'm heading in for a few extra hours. One of my students had to reschedule their lesson." 

"You're a teacher?"

"Yeah, I teach kids music. I mean, during the day, I go around to different schools and drop by for an hour each. But I do one-on-one guitar and piano lessons with kids and adults on the side too." 

Your mouth fell open in surprise. "Wow, that's really amazing. I've got a lot of respect for anyone with musical talents, it's hard enough for me to just stay on key when I'm singing." 

Yixing's cheeks turned a light pink as he grinned. "I'm sure you could learn something if you ever wanted to. Most of my students start out learning the basics, and they've all been making a lot of progress. I've been doing more hours with some of them, but that also means I have less time with Xinyue." He glanced over to the living room, his daughter now singing her heart out along with the music. "She used to be in the after-school program, but she hated it so much, I felt bad. Her mom can't pick her up either, since she lives a few hours away." 

Upon hearing those words, you couldn't help but look down at Yixing's hand. No ring to be seen at all. Was he raising Xinyue by himself?

"I know you haven't agreed to anything yet," Yixing continued. "But I'm honestly so thankful that you're here today, that you're considering helping us out. I think Xinyue likes you already."

"I'm glad, I like her too." 

A look of relief came over Yixing's face, the man nodding to himself before pulling his reminders over. "I should be home in time for dinner, but if she gets hungry, she's free to any of the snacks in here. But, she can't have too much, especially if it's candy. She doesn't have any allergies, but she avoids tomatoes like she's allergic to them." Yixing shook his head with a smile. "Here's my phone number, and just in case I'm not answering and it's an emergency, here's her mom's number." 

You took the list of reminders when Yixing offered it to you, reading over everything one more time. "What about homework?"

"We just finished it before you guys came. It's really not that time consuming, the hardest part is just getting Xinyue to finish it all before playing," he said with a grin.

After both of you went over any remaining questions, Yixing went to say goodbye to his daughter. "I'll be out for a bit, Xinyue. We'll eat dinner when I get back."

"Okay, Papa." Xinyue kissed her dad on the cheek before turning her attention back to the movie. 

"I'll see you guys later. Thanks again, Y/N." 

"No problem!" You watched as Yixing put his shoes on, giving you a final wave before he walked out the door with his bag and guitar case. 

You went to join the others on the couch, both of them taking up most of the space as they sprawled over it. "Could you two scoot over a little bit, please?" 

Jongin and Xinyue immediately moved over, leaving enough space for you to sit on Xinyue's other side. "What's happening now?" you asked her.

"The rock giants are chasing Anna," the girl whispered back to you. 

"Ooh, this part always scares me." 

"It's not real!" Xinyue giggled, and laid a hand on your arm. 

"Still," you pretended to be afraid. "Will you keep us safe?" 

"Yes!" The girl leaped up off the couch, pretending to be Elsa as she ran around the room, you and Jongin watching in amusement.

After the movie, you made a few sandwiches for the three of you to snack on. Xinyue had talked your ear off about what she did with her friends during recess, and how one of her best friends even saw Elsa and Anna at Disneyland. When you asked her what she liked to play at home, Xinyue literally pulled you over to her room, showing you her dolls — Frozen, of course. 

"Who do you wanna be?" she asked. 

Judging by your conversation earlier and how Xinyue was practically glued to the screen every time Elsa appeared, you knew who not to pick. "I want to be Anna!"

Xinyue beamed, holding the doll out to you. "Okay! You can be Anna, and I'll be Elsa!" She glanced over at Jongin, who had followed the two of you. "Uncle Jongin, you can be the rock people."

"The rock people? The trolls?!" 

You couldn't help the giggles that escaped, Xinyue joining in. 

"Oh, very funny. I didn't bring Y/N here so you guys could tease me," Jongin pretended to sulk. 

"Shh, the rock people don't come in right now," you said with a final giggle. "Okay, Queen Elsa. Where are we?" 

Yixing came home a few hours later to the sounds of excited squeals and shouts from Xinyue's bedroom. He smiled to himself as he walked down the hallway, peering into the open room. You were lying down on the carpeted floor, a mess of giggles as Xinyue lay sprawled on top of you. When you tried to get up, Xinyue wrapped her little arms around your neck, trapping you in a hug. Yixing watched as you stared down at the child in your arms, eyes full of wonder. It was endearing to see how well the two of you got along, even in such a short amount of time. He knocked on the doorframe, smiling when you and Xinyue immediately looked up at him.

"How's it going?" 

"Uncle Jongin went home early," Xinyue replied. 

You sat up, Xinyue still hanging onto you. "Someone at the fitness studio called out sick, and Jongin got called in. But we've been fine, just playing lots of games."

"Papa, Y/N and I were playing hide-and-seek, and she didn't find me in the laundry basket!"

"In the laundry?" Yixing came over and picked his daughter up, swinging her around until she was squealing with laughter. "You're going to need a bath earlier today, if you were hiding in stinky clothes," he teased.

"Papa, you're stinkier!" 

Yixing opened his mouth as if to come back with a retort, but he set Xinyue back down instead with a huff. "You're getting too big for me to pick you up nowadays. Soon, you'll have to be picking me up."

Xinyue took that as a challenge, both arms wrapped around one of Yixing's legs as she heaved and pulled, to no avail. Yixing looked to you, where you had been watching them in amusement. "Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"I don't want to be a bother," you began. 

"You won't be. Both of us are happy to have you stay longer. Right, silly monkey?" he addressed his daughter. 

"I'm not a monkey, I'm a princess!"

"Yes, Princess Xinyue. Come on, let's go make some food for our guest."

Yixing wouldn't hear of you helping out in any way, and so you simply watched as he took charge in the kitchen, with Xinyue as his assistant. You were surprised to find that not only was he kind, musically talented, and a loving father, but he managed to cook up a delicious meal as well.

"Thanks," he said sheepishly when you complimented him on his food. "I really had to learn how to cook for Xinyue's sake. You wouldn't believe the number of times we had mac and cheese in a week when she was younger." 

"Honestly, I've done that too — and I'm just cooking for one." 

"You're always welcome to stay for dinner if you want. I mean, if you end up wanting to stay on as Xinyue's babysitter?" Yixing waited hopefully, chewing down on his bottom lip as he anticipated your answer.

Truth be told, you hadn't expected to get along with Xinyue so well. But after only a couple of hours, the little girl had you wrapped around her finger. You couldn't imagine not taking the job — especially when you thought about how much Yixing interested you. 

"I'd love to take the job, Yixing." 

"Really? That's great!" He nudged Xinyue's arm gently with his elbow. "Y/N's going to be spending more time with us from now on, like when I have to work. What do you think?"

Xinyue chewed on her food thoughtfully, eyebrows drawn low over her round eyes she mused. "When you come over, can we go to the park?" 

Yixing choked back a laugh as you grinned. "Yes, of course. It'll give us more space to play Frozen, too." 

The six-year-old threw her hands up in the air, fork and all. She managed to fling a few pieces of food onto the floor behind her, much to Yixing's distress and your enjoyment. 

You could already feel how much change and excitement these two were bringing into your life.

Yixing was rushing home, hair matted against his forehead as he sat in traffic. Although he had asked you to stay a bit later today while he attended a student's recital, he hadn't expected to be this late. It was already time for Xinyue to go to bed, and he hoped that you weren't having a hard time. Your last reply to his texts had been about twenty minutes ago, and Yixing was growing more anxious with each passing second. If Xinyue was tired and cranky, there was no telling what he would be walking into. 

He made it home as quickly as he could, leaving his belongings in the car as he ran up to the house and unlocked the door. "Y/N? Xinyue?" he called out. His nervousness only continued to grow when he was met with silence. Yixing closed the door behind him, kicking his shoes off before heading to Xinyue's room. Pushing the bedroom door open, he was about to speak when he was stunned into silence.

Xinyue lay in bed, already dressed in pajamas and fast asleep. But what was even more surprising was the fact that you were curled up next to her, both of you hugging each other as you slept. 

Yixing crept closer, lips curving upwards at the sight. It was only a month since you had become a part of their daily lives, and yet he couldn't imagine not having you around — not just for your help, but for the energy and cheer that you brought with you. You weren't just the babysitter, you were a close and trusted friend. 

But recently, Yixing had been hoping that maybe, there was something more. He wasn't oblivious to your stares, sneaking a few of his own when you weren't looking. The two of you got along extremely well — he hadn't felt this close to anyone in a long time. 

Yixing gently nudged your shoulder, whispering your name softly so as not to wake Xinyue up. 

Your eyes flew open, still groggy and disoriented until you realized that it was Yixing waking you up, that you last remembered falling asleep after reading Xinyue a story. "Oh my god," you blurted out, your hand instantly covering your mouth as you turned to look at Xinyue. Thankfully, the girl continued to sleep.

"Hey, don't worry," Yixing whispered back. "Let's get you out of here first though." 

You nodded as Yixing carefully moved Xinyue's hands off of you, settling them carefully onto the bed and pulling the covers over her. 

"Thanks," he murmured as you turned off the light. The two of you silently made your way to the living room, the space bathed in the soft light of the ceiling light hanging overhead. 

"I'm sorry," Yixing spoke up. "I didn't think the recital would run this late, and I wasn't expecting you to even do all of this. I've felt horrible the past week, since you've been staying longer and helping out more. Sometimes I feel like you're babysitting both of us." 

You laid a hand on his shoulder, a sign of comfort. "Yixing, for the hundredth time, I'm not your babysitter. You're more than capable of taking care of yourself and Xinyue. Look at how well you were doing before I even came into the picture." 

Yixing looked away, touched by your kind words. "But still," began. "I feel like I'm taking advantage of your generosity. Can I make it up to you? Maybe buy you a meal or something?" 

"You don't have — "

"Please, Y/N. Just as a way to say thank you." 

Sighing, you gave in. "Okay, Yixing. Thank you." 

"Thank you. I mean it. How does Monday night sound?" 

"Sure, after you come back from work? Xinyue's coming with us too?" 

Yixing hesitated, mustering up the courage to say what he wanted. "Actually, um, maybe just the two of us?"

A few wrinkles appeared on your forehead. "But who's going to take care of Xinyue?" you asked in confusion.

"I can ask Jongin or another friend to stay with her for a bit."

"So... this is a date?" 

"Yeah," Yixing stammered out. "Unless it makes you feel uncomfortable, then we can just call it off or — "

You held a finger up against his lips, smiling to yourself when he instantly fell silent. "Yixing, I'd love to go out for dinner with you. It's a date, then." 

Yixing felt relief well up inside, unable to stop the smile on his lips as he repeated your words.

"It's a date." 

A/N: as always, whenever I can’t think of names for new characters, I go back back to things that the members have acted in haha 😂😂😂😂 this time, yixing’s daughter is named after a character from “the mystic nine”! I watched the whole series back when it came out and people were subbing it here on tumblr, and writing this gave me the urge to go back and rewatch it (even though it’s like what 40 episodes long? and I have a short attention span LOL)

edit: changed pairing from “reader” to “fem reader” because I forgot what I used gender-specific pronouns. i’ve been trying to keep things gender ambiguous, but to label fics correctly if the character’s coded as female 

[artificialqueens]

Wondrous Creature (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: Brooke and Vanessa are roommates crushing on each other, both with no idea that the other likes them back, or that the other isn’t human.

A/N: I am officially in the spooky mood and finished this to celebrate it! This is loosely based on the web comic “Fangs” by Sarah C. Andersen. This is pretty weird and chaotic, so apologies in advance. I would love any feedback or comments if you have any, though! Writ is the best beta and brainstorming partner and I love them. Title from Monster by Florence + the Machine.

read on ao3

“Brooke!” Vanessa sighs in relief when her roommate shuffles in, tossing her purse on the kitchen table, shoulders dropping after her overnight shift.

“What?” Brooke asks around a yawn.

“Have you seen my black boots?” Vanessa’s been sliding around the apartment in her pizza socks, toothbrush dangling from her mouth, because her boots are not in her closet where she’s fairly sure she left them. But if anyone will know where they are, it’s Brooke. She could find anything from boots to keys like a bloodhound.

Brooke’s eyebrows wrinkle as she thinks. “Did you check under your bed?”

“Oh!” Toothpaste flies out of her mouth and splats on the floor, and Brooke rolls her eyes fondly before wiping it.

“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to you,” Brooke mutters.

“I know!” Vanessa runs to her room and peeks under her bed. There, past Riley’s elephant chew toy and her old knee brace and a bag of chips, are her black boots.

Vanessa happily puts them on, and Brooke snorts behind her.

“You could make a game out of finding stuff under your bed,” Brooke teases. “Two points for clothes, three points for food.”

“Five points if the food is still edible.”

“Vanessa, don’t you dare eat those chips–”

Vanessa removes her toothbrush and crunches as loud as she can, making eye contact with Brooke all the while. Even with the lingering minty taste, the chips are still good. But even if they weren’t, she still wouldn’t be harmed, for reasons Brooke doesn’t–and can’t–know.

“Okay, how about you brush your teeth for real, in the bathroom?” Brooke suggests, and Vanessa nods.

They stand side-by-side in front of the sink, because Brooke brushes her teeth after work every morning for some reason. Vanessa doesn’t mind. It’s nice having the bathroom to herself for most of the morning, not having to fight for shower times or counter space. This little routine is enough, and Vanessa likes the rhythm they sink into, the way Brooke sways along to Vanessa’s Get-Ready Spotify playlist, the way Brooke grins at her in the mirror. Today, the grin is wider than normal, and Vanessa’s grip slips, toothbrush swiping across her cheek and sending Brooke into a fit of laughter.

They spit in the sink, and Vanessa sees drops of bright red clinging to the porcelain.

“You’re bleeding,” Vanessa says.

“I am?” Brooke shrugs. “Must’ve brushed too hard.” She rinses the sink, tells Vanessa to have a good day, and collapses into bed, the frame squeaking under her weight. She’ll get a few hours of sleep, Vanessa knows, before waking up and writing. She does fashion and news pieces for some media site—she told Vanessa it’s like a low-budget Buzzfeed—and her stuff’s pretty good, from what Vanessa’s looked up on nights she was bored, desperate to have more of Brooke through words on her phone screen. Brooke likes her job, even if she has to work overnight grocery store shifts to keep herself afloat. Vanessa thinks of Brooke curled up in bed and wishes she could help her sleep more, get rid of those gray circles constantly under her eyes.

But Vanessa will be late soon, and she grabs her travel coffee mug and heads to work, thinking too much about Brooke’s smile and the blood in the sink.

Maybe she isn’t the only one in the apartment with secrets.

—

Brooke wakes around 2 with both cats sprawled across her legs. She sits up and pets them absent-mindedly; the cats had to stay in her room because Vanessa is super allergic, “sneezin’ and wheezin’ and itchin’ allergic, Mary,” in her words. It’s easier for everyone to just keep the cats sequestered to Brooke’s room; she gets to cuddle them more, and everyone gets to avoid Vanessa’s sneezes, which are loud enough to send small children running in fright.

She pulls out her laptop and checks her work emails, making notes for her new piece. Nina runs the media site—West’s Best, home to culture, fashion, humor, and more, according to the description Brooke wrote—and Brooke is one of her best writers. But in the name of Brooke’s secret, she lets Vanessa think she’s an underpaid intern, scraping for any piece she can get. She doesn’t like lying, but it’s a necessary evil; under the cover of her “overnight job,” she’s free to spend her nights with her friends, doing things Vanessa can’t ever know.

The blood this morning was a rare slip-up—a remnant from last night’s drink. Brooke has to be more careful. It’s been six months since Vanessa moved in, and Brooke knows she doesn’t suspect anything about her being a vampire.

Hiding it isn’t as hard as Brooke thought it would be. The overnight job lie takes care of most of it, and Brooke stores her blood supply at Nina’s, because she doesn’t think she could lie her way out of that if Vanessa found it. She keeps stories about her past generic, mentioning that she used to dance but not that the dancing took place in a speakeasy 100 years ago. Or how she rode horses sometimes as a kid, leaving out that they were an actual mode of transportation. She’s sure Vanessa doesn’t mind the lack of details; her own stories are over the top enough for both of them, making Brooke laugh until her stomach hurts.

So no, not hard. Just a tiny secret. Though one that’s growing hard to keep, admittedly, because of another secret.

She has a crush on Vanessa.

The crush is a recent development, though her friends insist Brooke’s had feelings for longer, brought on by Vanessa asking opinions on outfits and nights yelling at reality shows together and all the times Vanessa lets her towel hang a little too low after a shower. Brooke’s never been around someone so fun and lively, who finds joy in something as simple as fresh laundry, burying her face in warm, lavender-scented clothes.

But secret number two has to remain secret because of secret number one, obviously, and Brooke just ignores those feelings. Her heart’s been cold a century, after all; it’s not hard to do.

Her phone buzzes with a text.

Vanessa: Can we make grilled cheese tonight?

Two emojis follow it: a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese.

Vanessa: There’s no grilled cheese emoji but you get the idea

Brooke grins, and she thinks her dead heart skips a beat.

—

“This is one of the best grilled cheeses I’ve ever had! You could open a grilled cheese food truck,” Vanessa says around a mouthful of bread.

Brooke shakes her head. “Sometimes I swear you were raised by wolves.”

Vanessa crosses her arms and pouts indignantly, but there’s a glimmer in her eyes, like a laugh she won’t let escape.

“Just ‘cause you drink tea with your pinky curled—“

“I do not.”

“Do so.”

Brooke smiles, taking a bite of her own sandwich. Vampires could eat human food, and Brooke likes to. It just doesn’t fill her the way animal blood does. But she’ll make up for it tonight, while Vanessa thinks she’s at work.

“Oh, that vanity you ordered came today,” Brooke says.

“Yes!” Vanessa fist-pumps the air. “Wanna help me put it together?”

Brooke thinks of the time she helped Nina put together her bedroom set and wound up with a giant splinter in her thumb, a smashed finger from Nina’s lousy aim with the hammer, and a bag of extra screws that Brooke hopes to this day weren’t important (Nina’s bed hasn’t broken yet, so it’s probably fine). Brooke has no desire for furniture-building again, but for Vanessa and those big brown eyes…

“Sure,” Brooke says.

Which is how she finds herself nudging aside clothes and magazines on Vanessa’s bedroom floor, Vanessa’s dog licking her leg and 20 pages of instructions fluttering in front of her.

“Come on, Brooke, what do we do?” Vanessa swings a hammer aimlessly, waiting for something to hit.

Brooke frowns, trying to make sense of the instructions and all the pieces and nails–could this thing need that many nails?

“Um, I think this big piece goes first…” Brooke grabs a square of wood and passes it to Vanessa. “Then we put on the sides.”

“What about the legs?”

“Shit.”

After nearly two hours of reading, Googling, YouTube tutorials, swearing, and Vanessa pretending to be Thor with her hammer, the vanity stands strong and sturdy in the corner.

“We did it!” Vanessa cheers. “Teamwork makes the dream work, baby!”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Fair.” Vanessa cackles. “You’ll be okay at work, right? I didn’t tire you out too much?”

Brooke swallows hard. Is that gleam in Vanessa’s eyes from concern, or does she know exactly what she’s saying? Does she have the same feelings Brooke does?

“I’ll be fine,” Brooke says.

She doesn’t see Vanessa for the rest of the night, and slips out when Vanessa is breathing softly in her bed.

—

The best part of Brooke’s overnight shifts is that she’s not there to wonder where Vanessa goes at the full moon.

She, Silky, and A’keria pile in an Uber and go to the edge of the city, then walk to the woods. Vanessa loves the city, loves all the people and shops and places to eat, but there’s something about the woods. Everything is calmer out here, still and silent except for the occasional rustling of leaves or an owl’s hoot. There’s a sort of peace between the trees, freedom to just breathe and think and be.

The silence is a little too eerie tonight, her thoughts too loud. Or maybe it’s just because she can’t stop thinking of Brooke. There’s been nothing unusual about the past few weeks, but something feels different. They made cupcakes last week and spent hours on Saturday sucked into a 90 Day Fiance marathon, yelling and roasting the couples. Vanessa found herself enjoying it all more than usual, unable to take her eyes off Brooke. She knows what it means, but that’s not an option. Not with her secret.

“Vanessa, it’s almost time!” A’keria yells.

Vanessa snaps up and sees the moon is almost at its highest as it shines through the trees. She pulls off her clothes and sets them in the bag at the base of the largest tree.

“What’s with you?” A’keria asks in concern.

“Nothing.”

“It’s about Brooke, isn’t it?” Silky guesses, and she and A’keria trade looks.

“What’s with the looks?” Vanessa demands.

“It’s nothing,” A’keria says.

“We think Brooke’s a vampire,” Silky says, dodging the furious arm A’keria swings at her.

“You think she’s a vampire?” Vanessa laughs out loud. She can see where they’re coming from, admittedly. Brooke is tall and pale and quiet, with a dry sense of humor and a wardrobe that’s almost entirely black. She can be broody sometimes, especially when Jeopardy! isn’t going her way. She glides around the apartment so silently Vanessa wants to put a bell around her neck. And there’s a mysterious air around her, maybe from how secretive she is about herself–so much so that Vanessa truly doesn’t know much about her past.

But the idea of Brooke being a vampire is ridiculous. Her Netflix recently watched list is just Jane Austen adaptations and The Princess Diaries, and she keeps the freezer stocked with Ben and Jerry’s and pizza bagels, not bags of suspicious liquid or anything like that. Hell, when Vanessa got a paper cut a few weeks ago, Brooke practically flew out of the room to get her a Band-Aid, eyes avoiding the blood. And she uses a baby voice when she talks to her cats and falls asleep cuddling them, for crying out loud—the woman is hardly a horror movie figure.

“Look, she’s not a vampire, okay?” Vanessa keeps one eye on the moon as it shifts imperceptibly, her muscles tingling as they prepare for the transformation. “She goes out in the daytime and stuff.”

Silky rolls her eyes. “Vampires can do that! Sun hurts them, but it only kills them after a long time.”

“She’s fine in the sun,” Vanessa insists. “She doesn’t go out in it much because it gives her a headache and her skin’s really sensitive, so it burns easily.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s sunburn.”

“And an overnight job? Could it be any more obvious?”

Vanessa huffs. “Enough, okay! She’s human!”

Silky shakes her head. “You just don’t want to see it because you’re in love with her.”

“I am not!” Vanessa shouts, but she can’t even kid herself, let alone her friends, who are staring at her pointedly.

“Got a big old lesbian crush,” A’keria says with a grin. “So big you can’t even see your roommate’s a blood sucker.”

Vanessa sighs, knowing that vampire or not, her feelings for Brooke are filling the entire forest. “Look, I really like her, and she probably doesn’t feel the same way. It could ruin everything if I tell her. It just… it just can’t happen.” She shakes off how small her voice is getting.

“I think you should tell her, V,” A’keria says softly. “Vampire stuff aside and everything. How could she not like you back?”

Vanessa wants to believe it, but she shakes her head. “She’s my friend, and she’s human, and I’m–” The rest of her sentence is cut off by a groan as the pain starts. Vanessa’s gotten used to it now–the way her bones stretch and muscles clench, her whole body on fire–but it doesn’t make the pain any easier. She curls into a ball as her claws emerge, as fur sprouts, until finally a thick brown wolf stands tall beneath the moon. Vanessa nods toward the other two, and they traipse through the forest.

Vanessa keeps her mind when she transforms; she normally likes the way everything gets sharper, the way she can smell moss and flowers and animals, can see even the tiniest bugs flapping their wings. Tonight, though, she wishes she could turn it off, because all her thoughts of Brooke are heightened too. The sheer beauty of her soft, smooth skin. The way her hair shines like gold in the light and always smells like tea tree oil. Her rare laughs, the way her shoulders shake with the movement and her green eyes sparkle. How much Vanessa wishes she could see Brooke’s pale skin uninterrupted by clothes, melting into Vanessa’s sheets, before falling asleep in Brooke’s arms.

Vanessa sighs, running through the trees and leaving it all behind.

She really can’t be in love with her roommate, but it’s too late.

—

Brooke is extra careful the next few weeks. She rinses her mouth carefully before entering the door each morning. She eats half the garlic bread Vanessa makes one night. She even goes shopping with Vanessa, rare sunshine beating down on them. The only reason Brooke manages without pain is because of the special sunscreen her witch friend Yvie made, but Vanessa doesn’t need to know that. Brooke just wants to flaunt it, hey, look how human I am. Vanessa is blissfully unaware, and that’s what Brooke needs. No threat to her secret, no chance she’ll have to run and leave her friends behind.

“Brooke, can you help me make posters?” Vanessa gets home one night with her arms full of construction paper and Crayola markers. “They’re for the dog shelter.”

Vanessa volunteers at a dog shelter every Sunday, coming back with fur on her clothes and a bunch of videos of dogs playing fetch and running in circles. She loves going, yapping about all the dogs after, and even though Brooke is more of a cat person, she listens anyway.

“I’ll help,” Brooke says. It’s only fair after Vanessa made yesterday’s dinner when Brooke was busy with work.

Markers roll across the table as Vanessa lays her supplies out, and they get to work.

“What’s that, a hippo?” Brooke asks at Vanessa’s drawing.

“It’s obviously a dog, Brooke!”

“A dog with a hippo’s nose.”

Vanessa sticks her tongue out at Brooke and Brooke bursts into laughter. The night continues as they pass markers back and forth and Vanessa pops enough popcorn for a movie theatre, ending when Vanessa begins her nighttime shower and skincare routine, the one that leaves her skin soft and glowing, smelling of citrus and coconut. Brooke’s head is full of those scents when Vanessa calls her from the bathroom.

“What do you need?” Brooke asks.

“We’re out of towels.” There’s a smug tone to Vanessa’s voice. “There should be a clean one in the laundry basket, if you wanna bring it to me.” Brooke can practically see Vanessa batting her eyelashes through the door.

Brooke opens the door a crack, extending the towel. She can’t look at Vanessa, she can’t–

“Thanks, Brooke!” Half of Vanessa’s broadly-grinning face peeks out, running into the soft lines of her collarbone and gentle curve of her shoulder. Brooke’s dead heart almost jolts back to life. She wants to blast the door off its hinges, grab Vanessa, and throw her on the bed–

But the alarm on Brooke’s phone goes off, reminding her to get ready for work.

—

Brooke slides up to the corner table, her vampire gang awaiting: Nina sipping her drink, Priyanka checking women out, Kameron deep in thought. Red neon signs flicker on the dark walls, glasses of blood and beer sliding across the bar counter. Whoever thought of a vampire bar is a genius, in Brooke’s opinion, and being here with her friends is one of the best parts of her day.

“Sorry I’m late. Got caught talking to Vanessa.”

“How is she?” Kameron asks.

“Fine! She’s fine.” Brooke laughs nervously, reins her voice in before it rises another octave. No need to share what almost happened. They’ve all heard more than enough about Vanessa–Vanessa made cookies, try one; Vanessa scored 42 points when we went bowling; Vanessa made the worst pun ever, you have to hear it–and Brooke knows it’s not helping her in the ‘just a crush’ department.

“You know, Brooke,” Nina says slowly, like she’s been sitting on this a while, “sometimes I think Vanessa isn’t fully … human.”

Brooke scoffs. Vanessa, who cries over movies and gives old people her seat on the subway and can’t sleep without fuzzy blankets or a squishy pillow, is one of the most human people Brooke has ever met. Then she looks around the table and sees Kameron and Priyanka matching Nina’s cautious, thoughtful expression.

“What, you think she’s a witch or something?” Brooke barks out a laugh. “There’s gotta be a cleaning spell she would’ve used in her room by now.”

“Not a witch,” Nina continues, being the spokesperson of the group. “We think she might be a werewolf. Kam saw her in the woods last full moon.”

“So what?” Brooke asks, playing nonchalant even though it is odd that Vanessa would go in the forest at night. “She can go in the woods, it’s not my business.”

“I’ve gotten wolf vibes from her before,” Priyanka says.

Brooke shakes her head fiercely. “She’s human. She just really likes dogs–”

Nina purses her lips.

“–and her table manners leave something to be desired,” Brooke continues, “but she’s human. Besides, I’d know if she wasn’t.”

Kameron frowns.

“What?” Brooke demands.

“You can be kind of oblivious sometimes.” Nina takes over. “I mean, Kameron had a crush on you for months before…” she cuts herself off as Brooke and Kameron look anywhere but at each other, not needing the reminder of their old fling. If vampires could blush, they’d both be flaming.

“But that’s fine now,” Kameron says quickly. “I have Asia, and you have–”

“–A crush on Vanessa,” Priyanka interrupts.

Brooke sighs. She knows her face can’t feel hot, but somehow it does anyway. She knows she has a crush; knows she rushes home after nights with her friends just to see Vanessa before she leaves for work, knows she laughs over the stupidest things just because Vanessa does them. But it hurts to hear it out loud when she can’t do much about it. Vampires and humans didn’t mix. If they had any kind of relationship, Brooke wouldn’t be able to hide the secret forever, and Vanessa would probably run when she found out. Who wouldn’t?

But Brooke doesn’t know how much longer she can keep her feelings inside, pretend she feels nothing when Vanessa sings to herself in the shower, or plays with her dog, or tells Brooke to listen to new songs she discovers, both of them huddling around Vanessa’s phone and smiling.

“I really think you should tell her you like her, Brooke,” Nina says, and Kameron nods.

Brooke shakes her head. “Nothing can happen.”

Priyanka winks. “I think it can. I see romance in your future.”

“We all know you just pretend to be psychic because you’re in love with Alice from Twilight,” Brooke mutters, and she lets the erupting laughter distract her from Vanessa.

—

Silky and A’keria’s paranoia rubs off on Vanessa for a while. She keeps Brooke out in the sun for hours, bumps Brooke in front of mirrors, “accidentally” makes too much garlic bread. She stops just short of running at Brooke with a cross. Brooke’s human, just human, even if Silky and A’keria aren’t convinced.

Vanessa decides to make breakfast to gloss over any odd behavior Brooke might have noticed. Brooke usually eats a protein bar before she goes to bed each morning, and Vanessa wants her to have a real breakfast.

The idea of telling Brooke her feelings runs through Vanessa’s mind as she flips pancakes. Her being a werewolf is just a small secret, really. A lot easier to hide than her feelings. Lately it’s been all she can do to stop staring at Brooke’s soft skin, to not grab her and finally see how her lips feel.

Keys jingle in the hall and she knows it’s Brooke and her keys with the cat keychain. It’s just a stupid little detail, but Vanessa’s heart swells with love for Brooke, and it makes her mind up for her.

Vanessa sets the pancakes and scrambled eggs on the table just as the door creaks open.

“Vanessa?” Brooke blinks in confusion. “What’s this?”

“I made breakfast.”

“You didn’t have to do all this,” Brooke says, but she’s already drowning her pancakes in syrup.

Vanessa sits across from her. “I wanted to. I wanted to make sure you ate a real breakfast.”

Brooke raises an eyebrow.

“Protein bars aren’t breakfast and you know it!” Vanessa’s yell morphs into a laugh that Brooke matches.

“Okay, okay.” Brooke grins. “These pancakes are amazing, by the way.”

“I know.” Vanessa laughs.

Brooke sips her coffee, and maybe Vanessa bumps the table, maybe she doesn’t. Maybe Brooke’s sure, steady hands just fumble a bit. Either way, there’s a spot of coffee soaking Brooke’s shirt, and when Brooke grabs a washcloth, Vanessa stands up, legs wobbling.

“Maybe you should take that off,” Vanessa says, watching Brooke drop the cloth in the sink.

Brooke raises an eyebrow, her eyes gleaming devilishly. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Vanessa breathes, “maybe you should take that off.”

Brooke bites her lip, and Vanessa’s heart speeds up, wondering if she’s made the wrong move. But then Brooke grins. “You first.”

Vanessa’s whole body is on fire as she lifts up her shirt, her face bright red when Brooke’s eyes linger.

“Bed. Now,” Brooke commands, and Vanessa runs.

—

Vanessa doesn’t realize until later. How could she have realized when Brooke’s hands were roaming her body, when her cool lips touched Vanessa’s, when her ears were full of nothing but her own gasps and moans?

No, she doesn’t realize until later, when Brooke is at work and Vanessa’s head is finally clear again, able to think of something besides the blonde hair that Vanessa’s hands tore through and left messy, the soft lips she finally got to kiss, the arm that wrapped around her waist until she fell asleep.

Through all the gasps and touches and excitement, Vanessa’s heart was a bird in her chest, fluttering frantically in response to each and every touch. But when she thinks about it, there was no pulse thrumming through the still rivers of Brooke’s veins as her wrists brushed Vanessa’s body. When she thinks about it, all she heard from Brooke’s rib cage was silence.

Brooke has no heartbeat. And they need to talk.

—

Nina’s mouth hangs open when Brooke walks in the bar that night, no doubt knowing what just happened. “Brooke, you–”

Brooke sits down and rests her head on the sticky bar table. “I had sex with Vanessa,” she groans into the wood, knowing they’ll hear her.

“I told you bitches!” Priyanka yells.

“Shut it, Miss Cleo,” Brooke says, raising her head and taking in everyone’s expressions–all of satisfaction and acceptance, not a shocked face in sight.

“What are you gonna do now?” Kameron asks. “Does she know? Did she notice you don’t have a heartbeat?”

“Hers was going fast enough for us both,” Brooke says. “Besides, she wasn’t close enough to my chest to hear anything… I don’t think so, at least.”

“What are you gonna do?” Nina asks.

Brooke groans again. “I don’t know. I’m hoping it’ll be a one-time thing and we’ll go back to normal.”

“And if you don’t?”

Brooke sighs. If Vanessa wants a real relationship after this, it wouldn’t be fair to her to do that. Brooke would have to run, and she looks around at her friends and knows she never wants to leave them, just like she never wants to leave Vanessa. She forces those thoughts away. “I don’t know. What am I supposed to do? Get a cake that says ‘Hey, I’m a vampire?’”

Kameron shrugs. “That’s how I told Asia,” she says, so deadpan Brooke can’t even tell if it’s a lie.

“You can’t do a cake, you gotta do some classier shit,” Priyanka says. “Cream puffs are classy, right? Do cream puffs.”

Kameron suggests eclairs, and Priyanka insists that cream puffs are better. Brooke buries her face in her hands. If she wasn’t a vampire, her friends would’ve given her a stress-induced heart attack by now.

“Okay, cream puffs and eclairs are basically the same thing!” Nina hisses until Priyanka and Kameron quiet down. Nina then turns to Brooke, a hand on her arm. “Look, things are still new, you don’t have to tell her anything yet. Just… do the romantic shit. You’ve been single for decades, just be in love for right now.”

Just be in love for right now. Brooke considers it. She hasn’t had anything remotely like love since her and Kameron had their brief thing in the 90’s, before deciding they were better as friends. Before that, well… Brooke doesn’t think she ever has. There were crushes, sure, like the waitress at that diner who knew Brooke’s coffee order, the grocery store cashier that always flirted with her. But they were human, and Brooke knew nothing could ever happen, that she could never have anything with them. But something about Vanessa, human or not, makes her want to try.

“You’re right,” Brooke says to Nina. “I think me and Vanessa need to talk.”

—

The sun is shining when Brooke gets back to the apartment, and Vanessa is standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips.

“Everything okay?” Brooke asks. Vanessa obviously has something to say, and Brooke’s stomach lurches with the fear that it’s something bad. What if Vanessa wants to move out after what happened?

“I think I should be asking you that, considering you have no heartbeat,” Vanessa mutters, clenching her fists.

Brooke gulps, rubbing through her actions the past week, wondering if she did something to reveal it, because how does Vanessa know? It doesn’t make sense, and she decides to turn the tables.

“How do you know I have no heartbeat?” Brooke demands. “You would’ve had to be right against my chest to notice, and you weren’t. Unless…” Nina’s theory runs through her mind, and it’s like a fog clears right in front of Brooke. “You’re a werewolf!” Brooke yells, pointing at Vanessa. “That’s why you have advanced hearing. That’s why my cats have to stay in my room!”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vanessa tries, crossing her arms.

Brooke crosses hers too. “Then I don’t know what you’re talking about either.”

They’re in a standoff, and Brooke isn’t going to give first. She’ll stay for decades, if she has to. She narrows her eyes at Vanessa, who’s having trouble holding her expression as the seconds tick.

“Fine!” Vanessa yells. “I’m a wolf.” Her face softens suddenly, and she looks at Brooke with love in her eyes. “But I promise I’ll never hurt you, ever. I keep my mind when I change, and I go far away, just in case. I’d never put you in danger.”

Brooke’s head spins with it all. So Vanessa really is a werewolf—but from the steps she takes to protect herself and others, she’s clearly as kind and caring as she always has been, helping old ladies cross the street. And what does it matter, really, that Vanessa isn’t fully human, when Brooke isn’t human herself? And if Vanessa isn’t human, Brooke being a vampire won’t matter to her, and Brooke warms at the thought. She moves closer to Vanessa, pulls her into a hug. “I’ll never hurt you either,” she promises. “I only drink animal blood. I just didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to scare you.”

It seems so stupid now, considering the secret Vanessa’s had this whole time, and Brooke can’t believe she didn’t notice. Maybe she really is as oblivious as Nina said. But maybe, from the love in Vanessa’s eyes, it doesn’t matter.

“It’s hard to scare a wolf.”

“I’m stupid, aren’t I?” Brooke sighs.

Vanessa shakes her head. “I’m just as stupid, don’t worry. Silky and A’keria told me you were a vampire but I didn’t want to see it. All I saw was you, and I knew I couldn’t have you because I’m—“

“A wolf,” Brooke finishes. “I didn’t see it either. I really should’ve, though, considering the mess you make when you eat.”

“Hey!”

“And how every dog in a 3-mile radius runs to you.”

“Says Miss Brooke Lynn ‘I only wear black’ Hytes!” Vanessa yells, and Brooke snorts.

“I wear gray sometimes!” Brooke protests, and Vanessa rolls her eyes.

Brooke squeezes her gently, breathing in her apple shampoo, letting it calm her. Vanessa looks up at Brooke and grins hopefully. “So can we do this, then? You and me?”

You and me, Brooke thinks, slightly daunted by how large those words seem. With Vanessa being a wolf, the risk of a human knowing her secret and being in danger is gone. Werewolves even age abnormally slow, so her and Vanessa will have lots of time together. And they already live together, already cook together every night and share their lives each day. How different can it be to make it a full relationship, let their feelings show instead of dancing around them?

“We can do this,” Brooke says.

Vanessa reaches up and kisses her, and Brooke has never felt so human.

[angelic-holland]

Arcade // th x fem!reader

Summary: Loving you was a losing game, but Tom would be damned if he ever stopped playing.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluffy ending

Word Count: 7.2k

A/N: based on the song “Arcade” by Duncan Lawrence, italics between (***) are flashbacks, I attempted to write this sort of from Tom’s point of view.

The roar of the children and other young adults nearly drowned Tom as he watched you dance around after winning a lot of tickets at the skee ball machine. His eyes glimmer with admiration as he watches your hair dance along the sides of your face, one of your small fingers brushing it behind your ear. 

You were having one last night out before you and your family went to America for a few weeks, an annual tradition, Tom sometimes went with you, but this year he couldn’t. Work, responsibilities, life got in the way. 

He smiles, a toothy, kid in a candy shop smile as he walks up to you, “ready for your big prize?” 

You turn around to face him and laugh, grin stretching across your face as you throw your head back, clapping your hands happily as you walked towards the prize room. 

“I hope my prize includes you,” you grin, biting your lip as Tom laughs, his hand gently resting on your hip while you search through the glass for your prize, a fist full of tickets that added up to 353. 

Tom tried, he really did, to win at the games he played while you were there but you were just so distracting. You didn’t mean to be, encouraging him as he hit the button on the fake slot machine, your hand resting gently on his shoulder, blush spreading to the tips of his ears. His eyes would wander to your side, pressed against his, your foot on the inside of his leg, running up and down his calf, then he wouldn’t pay attention and lose. It was almost like a game, Tom thought, you would distract him, ever so slightly, and then if he won you would wrap your arms tightly around him, sighing into his neck before pulling away. He’d give you the few tickets he won, insisting that he wouldn’t get anything good with them anyways. 

And that was better than any stupid plastic toy prize. Your pure excitement. 

You picked out a stupid plastic kazoo that somehow was worth 350 tickets and used the other three tickets to get Tom a piece of candy, his favorite. 

“Wanna get outta here and I can suck you off in my mom’s shitty ‘98 mom van?” You ask as you walk out of the loud arcade, hands swinging side by side, knuckles brushing every so often, you had no intention of grabbing his hand and placing it in your own, Tom knew this. He so desperately wishes you did however.

His eyes roll in his head as he tilts it back, the long expanse of his neck inviting, “can you not call it your mom’s shitty van in the same sentence as wanting to get me off?”

“What? Are you not getting hard right now?” You whispered into his ear, the back of your hand pressed against the back of his hand.

How easy would it be to grab your hand, slip your fingers in between his, never let go? Tom’s feet faltered as you licked the shell of his ear, sighing before skipping ahead of him and playing the kazoo obnoxiously loud. 

“Come on, I know you wanna,” you said in a sing song voice and Tom couldn’t lie, of course he did. He never didn’t want to. But he also wanted to sit at the pier overlooking the water and talk for hours about everything and nothing, just listening to the sound of your voice, inflections as you asked questions, rising as you got excited, raising an octave if it was a really good story. But you weren’t in the mood for the friend part of your arrangement, not right now. And that was okay, because he just wanted to spend time with you, in whatever way that came down to.

Before he knew it he was sprawled out in the backseat of your car, a hand me down from your mother, fake leather seats are worn, tearing in some places, his hand gripped the door handle for dear life as you situated yourself on the expansive floor between the very back of the van and the front seats.

You hands traced down his front to his jeans, one stroking his cock over them while the other worked on opening up his jeans. No matter how many times you did this, you still managed to fumble a little each time. Tom liked to pretend it was because you were nervous because you wanted more than hasty blowjobs and fucks. Deep in his heart, hidden behind years of longing and just recently the excitement of being with you, he knew that wasn’t the case. You have a kind heart, always wanted to please people, your nerves were a result of thinking you weren’t good enough, no matter how many times Tom told you how good you made him feel. Your confidence day to day was strong, unwavering, head held high as you navigate your life. Very few people, if anyone other than Tom knew that you desperately wanted to hold onto something and ground yourself, never sure in anything you did. 

His other hand was a calming presence on your hair, fingers running through your pretty locks, brushing them behind your ear so he could see you as you kissed along his hips, tugging his cock out of the confines of his boxers. Your eyes looked up at him, the slightest bit of nervousness overshadowed by lust as you licked your hand, using it to stroke his cock while your tongue dipped out of your mouth to trace along the head down the underside of his cock.

“So good, feels so good,” Tom manages to get out. Because it does, you always made him feel good, and because he knew you were craving the words that slipped out of his mouth, “Good girl.”

You went to work, mouth parted, full lips wrapping around the head of his cock as he watched, he always watched, watched as your pretty lips bobbed up and down his cock, taking as much of him as you could while your hand worked what couldn’t fit into your mouth. He watched as your eyes stared up at him, constantly searching for that validation. And holy shit he wanted to give you the entire fucking world, show you that you were it for him. But for now a stuttered out, “yes, fuck, keep going, please, good girl,” would do.

You whined at his words, eyes slipping shut as one of your hands reached up and rested atop his own, fingers curling to make Tom grip your hair. The closest he would get to holding your hand. His smile faltered for a second at the thought, his heart slowing in his chest before he looked down at you, your eyes wide again as you stared up at him, curiously attempting to understand where he stood while you sucked him off, scared he wasn’t enjoying himself.

You pop off him quick, hand continues to slowly jerk him off, “you okay?”

He nods quickly, “Yeah sorry, could you maybe use your tongue a little more?” He makes up something that could explain the look on his face, almost smacking himself as your face fell before you nodded.

“Course, yeah, lemme make you feel good, okay?”

He nods, smiling again as your tongue traces up and down the veins along his cock, wet and shiny lips sucking as his head as your tongue swipes at the precum pooling on it. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and his smile widens as you visibly relax, letting his hand in your hair guide his movement while your hand gently rests atop it, searching for the warmth of human touch. 

He couldn’t stop staring as you worked him over with your mouth, taking him further and further until his cock bumped against the back of your throat and you fought against yourself, relaxing your throat to allow him in. He was close, and oh so fucking soon but he couldn’t help it, watching you work, you looked so pretty when you were determined to make him feel fantastic. 

Not that you weren’t pretty all the time, if Tom were a poet, he could think of a million ways to describe how beautiful he thought you were. But alas, he was just a boy who was destined for failure, and the only word he could use to describe your beauty was ‘perfect’.

He had a far off look in his eye, thinking about all the time you’ve shared together, since you were little, he wouldn’t lie, he was a little distracted while you tried your hardest to bring him back to reality, to the fact that you were sucking him off, attempting to make him feel the absolute best. 

You whine around him, an indication that you wanted more from him, more noises, more enthusiasm. 

More more more.

And Tom would be damned if he didn’t give you everything.

His eyes wandered back to you, lips stretched wide as you took him nearly completely in your mouth, hand now resting on his hip just beneath his shirt, rubbing circles into the bone while his hips stuttered, mouth dry as his hand gripped your hair harder.

He was on the edge, he was always on the edge with you. On the edge of orgasm. On the edge of falling in love. He likes to pretend he hasn’t already fallen off that steep and dangerous cliff, like he wasn’t broken and bruised and bleeding at the bottom, crying out for you to save him. Throw him a fucking line, tell him you also stay up at night and dream of a future with him, tell him you yearn for him the same way his heart beats crazy for you. 

He moaned your name as he came down your throat, you sucked him down enthusiastically as he strung along whimpers of “y/n, fuck, sucha good girl for me.”

When he came down from his high he peeked through his lashes as you slowly come off his cock, sitting back, your hand slips off of his own and he wishes he lasted even just a little bit longer if that meant he could feel the warmth of your hand on top of his own for just a few more seconds. 

“Thanks,” He grins lazily as you tuck him back into his jeans.

You nod, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand before eating up and

“Can I return the favor?” Tom asks as you begin to climb into the front seat.

“Nah, doing the nasty here kinda creeps me out, back to our place?” You ask and Tom nods, climbing into the front seat as well as you start the car.

“Was that, are you thinking of something space cadet?” You joked as Tom sat rather solemnly, chin in his hand, elbow resting on the window, eyes distant as you rested your hand on his thigh.

“I’m okay, just thinking.”

“Oh, okay, penny for your thoughts? Or a kazoo song?” You steady the steering wheel with one hand as you use the other to play a horrible tune on the kazoo.

“No, god, anything but the kazoo,” Tom groans, tossing his head back, you set the kazoo down and put your hand back on his thigh, his hand goes to rest against yours and you almost flinch at his touch, a little too intimate. 

You take a deep breath as you pull into the apartment complex, moving your hand from under Tom’s.

You both make the trip upstairs, lust and a hint of something else hung in the air as you unlocked the door to your shared apartment. Three rooms, you, Tom, and Harrison, whenever Tom and you had sex it was always in his room. There was an unspoken agreement ever since the first time it happened, your room was untouchable, cold and empty, like Tom sometimes felt your heart was.

***

“Are we really doing this?” You giggles, hands tracing patterns into Tom’s bare chest as he takes in your naked form, laying underneath him on his bed, as drunk and giggle as he is after a long party to celebrate moving into your new space, freedom from parents and the burden of new responsibilities forgotten for one night.

You were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, hair spread out underneath you, legs slightly shaking as you wrapped them around his waist.

“Only if you wanna,” Tom replies, arms straining as he held himself above you, cock twitching in his boxers as you rubbed against him.

“I wanna, want you to fuck me,” you moaned as he kisses down your neck, taking in the way your skin felt against his lips. The realization that this might be the first and last time he got to touch you like this was sobering.

“Okay,” Tom nods, “lemme, we need,” he pauses to think, what did they need? He couldn’t quite remember.

“Condom!” You shout loudly, jerking your head up, chin collided with the top of his head. You both groan in pain before Tom rolls off of you, searching his bedside table as you laugh.

“Gotcha,” He says, holding up the silver foil while you sit up, spreading your legs while he pulled his boxers down and off. Your jaw drops as he rolls the condom onto his hard cock.

“What?” He asks, head tilting to the side.

“God I’ve never thought of you like this, but holy fuck you’re huge,” you manage to get out, laughing as he pounced back on top of you.

If he was truly sober your words would’ve startled him, ‘never thought of you like this’. Like what? In a sexual way? A romantic way? You’re about to have sex with him, how do you see him?

His hips pause at the statement however, was he in way too over his head?

“Please,” you whimpered below him, hips rocking against his cock, which would nudge against your entrance, sending you into a flurry of “Please, Tom, pretty please.”

He was way too drunk and way too horny to think about his feelings while you were underneath him, begging, writhing for him.

“Gotcha, I gotcha,” he says, voice soothing as his cock enters you. It’s a feeling he never thought he’d have, your warm walls wrapped around him as you pulled him down, arms around his neck, sloppily kissing him.  

You whimper into his mouth, tongues and teeth clashing as he pounds into you, one of his hands steadies himself, the other grips wherever he can get a hand on you, your shoulder, hip, breasts, wow did he love your breasts. 

You both were ridiculously close way too soon, a mix of your adrenaline, Tom’s feelings for you and the alcohol coursing through both of your veins. His fingers snake between your bodies, his hips move quickly, chasing his high as his thumb rubs your clit. 

“Fuck, Tom,” you cry out as you come. The first time you said his name like that, on the cusp of orgasm, breathy but loud, like your personality, made Tom come with an equally desperate cry of your name. Out of all the ways you said his name, this was his favorite.

***

When you first met, you were in third grade, you were both in a specialized classroom, Tom for his dyslexia and you for your hearing loss. He would never forget the first day you walked into the classroom, pigtails high on your head, your goal for the day was to introduce yourself to someone and focus on the way their words of the other person came out and repeat them back to yourself. It was something that was a less than traditional route to help focus your hearing and strengthen it but your parents didn’t want to give you hearing aids or a cochlear implant unless absolutely necessary.

“Hi, I’m y/n,” you stuck your hand out, arm full of silly band bracelets and Tom looked up at you from his desk curiously.

“I’m Tom,” he said, shaking your hand quickly.

“Tom,” you repeated, testing the word on your mouth, it came out a little fumbled as you worked to put the letters together but you smiled, “Tom,” your voice was more confident that time and Tom smiled back at you.

***

Another way you said his name, the least favorite of all the times, was when a boy broke your heart. It was prom, Tom was at an all boys' school, while you were at your public high school. Tom came to your prom photos to watch and cheer you and the rest of your friends on as you all took photos and you smiled brightly, bouncing over to him with the same wide grin on your face from all those years ago. He could never grow old of that smile. You hugged him tight and his heart pounded so loudly he was afraid you’d hear it. 

“Have the best night,” he whispers as you pull away. 

“What?” You say, neck craning to hear him.

“Sorry, just, have a good time okay?”

You nod and wave goodbye as Tom watches as Jack Patterson rests his arm around your waist and helped you into the limo.

He figured he’d hear back from you tomorrow morning, you might have a slight hangover, but you’d call him excited to tell him all about the night before.

He didn’t expect a knock on his window at 3am, a broken and hushed, “Tom,” as you stood in the grass, shaking with tears falling onto your light purple dress, as you waited for him to open the window.

His room was the only bedroom on the first floor of his parent’s house, the luxury of being the first child.

“Y/N?” He says, rubbing his eyes and standing up, feet padding over to the window where you stand, bottom lip trembling as your makeup runs down your face. 

“Tom,” you choke back a sob. 

“Y/N,” he says, body trembling with worry as he unlocks and shoved the window open.

“Tom,” you kept repeating as it was the only thing grounding you as he helped you inside his bedroom.

You all but collapsed in his arms, makeup smudging on his shirt, arms shaky as they held onto his waist, searching for an anchor to reality.

“What the hell happened?” Tom asked as your breathing steadied, you sat on the edge of his bed with him, both of you exhaled shakily for different reasons. Tom was terrified, he had no idea what happened and was scared to find out.

“I, I lost my virginity,” you breath out, Tom’s scared to look at you, but your eyes search the side of his face for some sort of reaction.

“Then why are you crying?” He asks, hand resting between the two of you, itching to take your hand and hold it, comfort you however he can.

“Because, I’m here, Tom,” you choke back another sob, hands covering your mouth as you cry, “I’m here and not in his bed. He, he fucked me and then told me I had to leave.”

Tom’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips downturned, open hand now clenched into a fist.

“He what?”

“He told me that I probably shouldn’t be there when his parents came back, so I had to leave.”

Tom’s silent. After so long of being your friend, your best friend, he knew when you wanted words to comfort you, and when you just wanted him to be there, a presence to keep you steady, make you feel less vulnerable.

He stood up, moving around his room, grabbing a face towel and sneaking into the adjoining bathroom to wet the cloth before kneeling in front of you on the bed. His hand shook as he took the warm washcloth to your face, wiping away your makeup. He attempted to wipe away your tears, he hated seeing you upset like this, setting the washcloth on the ground beside him, using his thumb to wipe a stray tear from your cheek.

You tried to keep your tears to a minimum, deep shaky breaths to steady yourself, “and I already told mom that I was staying over Audrey’s tonight, so if I come home now she’ll know I lied and know what happened and she couldn’t and you were the only person I thought I could trust and-,”

“You can, you can trust me. Okay?”

“Thanks Tom,” you voice cracked, raw from crying, you laughed a little, “who thought this would happen?”

Tom took another shaky breath.

Exhale. 

He wanted to give you the fucking world.

And you were here and asking for it, or at least parts of it.

More. More. More.

He stood up, grabbing a T-shirt and sweatpants from his drawers and setting it on the bed next to you, who had started to cry again, body shaking as your hands attempted to tear away your bobby pins that held you hair up.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I gotcha,” he says, sitting on the bed behind you, hands wrapping around your wrists and setting them back on your lap, his hands lingered just a little too long on your wrists before moving back to your hair, working on taking out each bobby pin. He didn’t have a brush so he attempted to run his fingers through your hair, working out each kink and knot careful not to hurt you. You were already hurt enough. 

His hands came to rest on your bare shoulders, your body heaving as you tried to calm down.

“I gotchu,” he whispered and you relaxed under his touch, still crying.

“Can I stay here?” Your voice small.

“Always,” Tom nods, fingers tapping against your shoulder as the only sounds in the room are your sobs and his heartbeat.

Thump thump thump, so fucking loud. He was scared even you would hear it. 

One of his hands slid to your zipper; tugging it down to right above your hips and he helped pull his shirt over your head, your arms lifting lazily to do part of the work as your dress got pulled off. Any other time he would’ve lost his mind seeing your bare back, body so exposed in front of him. He looked the other way, always the gentleman, as you kicked off your shoes and tugged your dress off the rest of the way, arms shaking as you tugged the sweatpants up your body.

“I can sleep on the floor and you can have the bed,” Tom starts to get off the bed when you turned to him wide eyed and voice frantic.

“Stay.”

He sits back on his heels, trying to think, mind racing, his twin bed would some maneuvering, you would both have to sleep on your sides, but it would work.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks as you climb up into his bed, slipping underneath the sheets and blankets, body curling up to the side.

He would gladly give you whatever else you asked for and more.

More. More. More.

“Stay,” your voice was tired, tired from dancing the night away, tired from giving everything to a boy who left you stranded, tired from walking in heels all the way to Tom’s parents home because you felt safe. 

“Forever,” Tom whispered, and he counted on your hearing loss and the fact that you were about to let sleep overcame you, he counted that you didn’t hear him. Even though his heart so desperately wanted you to. You didn’t. Sometimes he thought he could be screaming until his lungs collapsed and you still wouldn’t hear him. It was exhausting. He was exhausted. But not as exhausted as you must’ve felt. 

He climbed into bed as well, resting on his side, a few inches between his chest and your back. You tried to cry a little softer, slowly realizing whoever else is home would probably hear you.

“Do you need anything else?” He asks again, voice just loud enough for you to hear and arms awkwardly resting in between the two of you.

Tom can tell you’re thinking for a moment, contemplating how many friendship boundaries you were going to break. 

“Hold me,” you whisper, voice now steady. 

Tom takes another breath, unsure, because this is the girl he has the biggest fucking crush on, and damn it it was way past a crush at this point, and here he was, a body double for the boy who had sex with her and left her to pick up the pieces of her heart he seemingly broke. 

“Please,” you whisper through the silence and Tom can’t help but listen. He scooted closer, chest pressed to your back as he moves his arm under your head, resting his other arm across your stomach.  

You immediately relax against his chest, your hand covering his on your stomach while you breath and attempt to sleep, a few stray tears slipping down your cheeks. 

“Thank you Tom.”

***

The first time he ever called you a good girl it was by accident, he wasn’t going to lie, before you snuck into his bed late one night, a few days after that drunken one night stand you didn’t bring up again, he was watching porn. And he knew, he knew porn wasn’t what sex in real life was but he didn’t care because ever since that night he’s been in an almost constant state of arousal and he had to relieve tension one way or another. 

So when you slipped into his room and sat on his bed in a white lace sheer nightgown, nothing underneath and leaving nothing to the imagination, he almost came in his sweatpants. 

“Hi,” you grinned, hand resting on his calf while your other played with your hair.

“Hi,” Tom mumbles sitting up.

“I was thinking, I had a good time the other night. You had a good time the other night. We should uh, do it again.”

“Huh?”

“Oh,” your voice dropped all excitement, lip downturned, did he not enjoy himself? When he sobered up did Tom regret that night?

“Like sex?” Tom asks, voice curious about your intentions, all of your intentions as you sat looking like a fucking angel in front of him.

“Yeah,” you nod, hair falling in your face. Tom instinctively brushed it back behind your ear, hand falling on top of yours on his calf, “just sex,” you say, voice faltering.

Tom wished the tremble in your voice was because you didn’t want it to be just sex, just like he didn’t want it to be just sex. But he knew it was because you were nervous, laying yourself out for him, afraid he’d reject your idea.

“Just sex,” Tom nods, his other hand cupping your cheek to pull you into him, your soft lips kissing his own. 

He wished he could kiss the angel in front of him forever, but your hand moved from under his to settle at the back of his neck, fingers running through the bottom of his hair as you sighed into the kiss. Your tongue meeting his as your other hand rested against his chest, pushing him down as their lips broke apart.

And the angel choked him with her halo. 

His lips and cheeks red as your hand ran down to his crotch, running your palm over his covered hard on, “condom?” You ask, resting your ass against his thighs. 

“Bedside table, top drawer,” Tom manages to get out, and you twist above him, opening up the drawer and grabbing one of the few condoms laying there. You set it in his hand, closing his fist around it while you slide down his legs, kneeling between his spread thighs. 

“Wh-,”

“Gonna make you feel good, okay?” You ask, eyes watching for his permission as your hands play with the edge of his sweatpants.

“Please,” he manages to get out, breath already coming out in pants as you pulling his cock of out his sweatpants, fumbling as you work to push his clothes down his legs.

“Sorry,” you say, voice laced with a nervous excitement as you settled between Tom’s bare thighs again.

“All good,” he smiles down at you, crying out as your hand starts to stroke his cock, lips hesitantly wrapping around the head of it.

“Fuck,” he groans as your lips push further down his cock.

You look up at him nervously, wanting to please him, make him feel the absolute best. You didn’t know that anytime Tom spent with you was like he was spinning on the Spin-N-Win, the winning prize if you would have him. You press the button at the right moment and hit the jackpot, heart pounding as your fingers jabs the button, every other hit comes so close, but you lose no matter what. A rigged game set to fail. But the moments leading up to the downfall are what matters. Every time you took his breath away with a simple smile, every time you looked at him like he was the only other person in the world, he felt the absolute best, each day bringing him higher and higher. 

He smiled down at you, nervous hand running through your hair, moving it out of your face so he could see you, all of you.

“Good, fuck, feels so good, good girl,” Tom grunts out and you moan around his cock, moving the slightest bit quicker at the praise he gave you, the validation you were doing a good job.

Tom noticed this and kept it in the back of his mind as his cock twitched, the vibrations from your moans sending him so fucking close, “wait, wait, c’mere, lemme get a taste,” he says, voice coming out in pants as you pulled of his cock, smiling softly at him.

“Was that okay?” You ask, face nuzzling into his hand, eyes closed as you waited for his answer.

“Of course, fuck it was amazing, so good I don’t wanna come to soon, lemme make you feel good, okay?” He asks and you nod, shifting from between his legs to lay next to him as he tugs his shirt off, pulling you into the middle of the bed as he settles between your thighs, hands gripping them as he slowly pushes the nightgown up, kissing along your hip, eyes meeting your wet pussy as your hands trembled at your sides.

“This okay?” He asks, making sure you were 100% ready to spin in circles with him.

“Tom,” you mumble, “yes, please,” you cry out as his fingers spread your folds, his breath hot against your heat, tongue poking out to lick through your folds, pausing at your clit.  

“Oh fuck,” you groan as his finger pushes inside you, “Tom,” your hands shake as they run through his hair, craving the feeling of him so god damn close to you.

“Gonna make you feel good,” he whispers, lips vibrating against your clit, another finger pushing inside you as your hips buck against him.

“Tom,” your voice is breathy and perfect as you came.

***

Maybe Tom was making it up as you led him back to his room, one hand on his arm, the other playing your kazoo. 

This nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tonight would be different. You wouldn’t just have quick sex, disappearing to shower before re-emerging a little later to watch tv or play video games with him and Harrison. You’d fall asleep in his arms, head resting on his chest as you talked about everything, your eyes would droop and you’d fight to stay awake because you craved the time you had with him.

All Tom wanted was for you to hit the button at the right time, jackpot.

“Come on, want my real prize,” you laughed and the way the notes fell from your mouth, an echoing melody bouncing against the four walls of his room made Tom’s heart stop.

He was so fucking in love with you.

“Am I the prize?” Tom asks as you start to tug at his shirt.

“Mhm,” you said.

Tom wished he would always be your prize, but he held on with bated breath, knowing at any second you could trade in your fistful of tickets for an actual jackpot, and what you had with him would be over like that.

Neither of you spoke as you stripped each other, feet easily finding their way back to the bed, Tom kissing down your neck, never leaving a mark, always a gentleman.

He guided you down as his hand found a condom from his bedside drawer. 

You laid there, hair framing your face, fingers tracing patterns in his blushed chest as he rolled the condom onto his cock.

His fingers traced the side of your body, your arms around his neck as you pulled him down for more, more kisses, more touch, more everything. 

As he slips two fingers into you, mouth groaning, lips wetting the skin of your neck, your legs tighten around his waist. 

“Please,” you whimper, “fuck me.”

He nods against your neck and slips his fingers out of you, hand resting against your hip as his cock nudges your entrance.

The room is filled with both of your groans as he bottoms out, hips meeting yours as you yearn for more, whatever he can give you. 

It’s silent, no pleading, no praise, just the thick air of admiration Tom tries to show you through the movement of his hips, the tender touch of his hand on your hip, lips lightly pressing into the space between your neck and collarbone, whispering words he knew you never wanted to hear. 

You were both on the edge, your clit throbbing as his hand slid between the two of you, thumb running smooth circles around your clit as you cried out for him, giving him part of you as you come with a broken moan of his name. 

Your hand cupped his cheek, bringing his eyes to meet your own as his head tilts down and his lips capture yours. He’s amazed he’s lasted this long, eyes boring into yours, tears welling in his eyes and he struggles to blink them away. 

“Tom, you okay?” You ask, breathless as your other hand grips his bicep.

And of course you’re checking in on him, making sure that he’s okay, because you can see the tears struggling to stay in his eyes, you can feel the way his hips are stuttering against you. And you’re scared that he’s not okay, that he’s just going through the motions.

He nods, lips tight, afraid of what he would say if he parted them. 

“Yeah?” You nod, lips pressed against his cheek, softly kissing along his face, down to his jaw.

“Always,” he sighs, looking down at the angel spread out below him through blurry eyes. 

You capture his lips in your own, whining lowly as he pulls his lips away.

His mouth moves faster than his brain can as he comes, “I love you.”

And it’s a barely-there whisper and he counts on you not being able to hear him. He kisses down your neck as he pulls out of you, panting as he comes down from his high. He pauses when he sees you frozen beneath you. 

“Tom,” your voice is unsure, head tilting as your hands drop from his body.

He sits up, body sweaty, both of you sort of out of breath as he realizes what he said. Your eyes widen as you understand the implication of what he said.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, scrambling out from underneath him, naked body grabbing your clothes as you rush out of his room. The only place you can go is your room, which you scramble to, ignoring Tom’s pleas.

“Wait, y/n, please wait!”

You slam your door and collapse on the other side of it. He throws on sweatpants and follows you, hand resting against your closed door, wishing he could bust in and talk to you, talk through what he just said.

But he knew you’d need space, time, to process what he said. So he turned as his back slide down and he sat on the other side of the door. Heart beating loud as he wondered what you were doing. He only saw your initial reaction, wide-eyed and terrified of his confession. He leaned his head against the door, eyes squeezed shut as he attempted to control his breathing. It wasn’t working, they came out in short pants as he felt himself lose the ability to breathe with each thought that raced through his mind. You were feeling much the same, head in your hands, his words repeating over and over in your head, you mouthed them yourself, ‘I love you’, feeling how the words moved across your lips, how each syllable felt gliding across your tongue. You didn’t know this but Tom fell asleep on the other side of your door, an unspoken barrier as tears slipped down his cheeks, eyes heavy as he struggled to stay awake, failing in the end.

You eventually stood up, feet dragging as your head pounds, collapsing on your bed, tears in your eyes because you felt like a complete idiot and an asshole. 

Harrison woke up Tom several hours later, confused at his friend’s state, shirtless, tears welled in his eyes as he stood up.

“I’m fine,” Tom said, knowing he was lying, he wasn’t fine. He wasn’t okay because he went and he revealed something he’s known in his heart was true for years, even when he lost his virginity to someone else, even when he tried to date other people, there was one constant. You. His love for you. And he sold his soul to the devil to fall in love with the angel who was too clueless to have a heart to love him back. 

***

Tom, hey, it’s y/n, obviously. You hate reading letters and I hate phone calls. You know why. The static, the delay, the muffled voice that I can never understand. So I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding your calls, but you know I never answer the phone for anyone, not even you. So this was the next best thing. A voice memo, I can get my thoughts out and you can listen to them, without the half a dozen awkward ‘what did you say’s from me. I’ve recorded and deleted these about 32 times already. So maybe this time will be the jackpot. Isn’t that what they say? You hit the jackpot on those arcade games every thirty or so tries? Anyways, everything came at such a shit time, I don’t know how else to describe it. Me leaving for vacation the day after. America is really beautiful, it always is when we visit. I’m sorry you couldn’t come this time. We’re at a place called Martha’s Vineyard, it has America’s oldest carousel. And it still works! Can you believe it? Anyways, I rode it and couldn’t help but think of you, and the time we went on the carousel at the arcade, it broke down as we were riding the horses, your hand flung out to hold onto mine as we lurched forward. I always thought it was because you thought I was scared. But I think you were scared. And that’s okay, because you of all people know how vulnerable I am. And how much I appreciate how you’re always by my side through those moments. So I’m sorry, sorry that at your most vulnerable I was an asshole. There’s no better word I can use for my reaction. I guess I acted like that because I didn’t know what to say. That’s still not a good excuse. I still don’t know what to say, I’ve spent this entire vacation thinking about what to say. I was never very good with my words anyways, but I’ve never felt like this before. What ‘this’ is? Haha, I don’t know, I don’t know if it’s what you said, but then again, I’ve never known what it’s like to feel like that, the way you feel about me. And trying to figure out these feelings sucks, no other way to say it. But I want to figure them out with you. That much is clear to me, through the haze of whatever we are, I know that much. I could never stop being your friend, since I met you and repeated every word you said to me the first day in third grade. I never told you but I went home and told my mom I met my best friend, a cute boy with a quiet voice who immediately spoke up when I told him I couldn’t hear him. And hasn’t been that quiet since. She laughed because she knew that childhood friends were just that, meant for childhood. But I knew that what we have is worth more than 18 years. It’s worth a lifetime. Four days and 17 hours until I land at Heathrow. Four days and 17 hours is how much time I’ve got left to reflect on everything, Four days and 17 hours until I see you again. I would love for nothing to change but I know that can’t happen, that train has already left the station. Because I like you, I like you more than a friend likes another friend, more than a best friend likes another best friend. I don’t want to say the other ‘l’ word, because I don’t know what that is supposed to feel like. Maybe it’s the way that my heart is beating so fast in my chest even I can hear it, the girl with ears that barely work. Maybe it’s the way you smile when you give me the tickets you won. Or the way you hugged me so tight and spun me around when I won the jackpot on the Spin-N-Win game, the pirate themed one? ‘Member? Maybe it’s the way you make me feel like I’m the only other person in the world, even with the hustle and bustle of everyone around us, your eyes look at me like I’m the only one who exists. And maybe I get caught up in what other people are doing, but I want you to know that you’re it for me, when I’m with you, nobody else exists. Wow I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out earlier. Save us more time, save us all this, whatever it is. But that’s okay, because we’ve got all the time in the world. Anyways, I can’t wait to talk to you, for real, in person, 4 days and 16 hours now. I would call you, but I don’t want to struggle to understand what you’re saying. I want to hear you loud and clear because everything you say is important to me. I’m pretty sure my phone is running out of storage, there’s a pop up message saying I’ve only got a minute left. And I’ve got so much more than a minute of things to say to you. I’ve got a fucking lifetime Tom. So, thank you for listening to me, if you’re listening to this message, memo, whatever. I like you, like like you, I think I even ‘l’ word you, but you deserve to hear me say it in person. 4 days and 16 hours Tom. 

***

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[toloveawarlord]

Black Army Mischief Maker (Ch.3)

You can find chapters 1 &2 in my masterlist in my bio!

Characters: Finley Godspeed and Black Army

Tagging: @plumpblueberry​ and @christmaswarlock​ for their love of this Godspeed child.

A/N: Finley is back at it again. If you want to learn some elephant facts, this is the place. Finley knows whats up.

Someone new had arrived at headquarters.

Not a member of the army. A woman that the young Godspeed had never seen before. Someone that needed their protection. As such, a room needed to be prepared, and the only one available needed to be fixed up. Finley had begged to tag along into Central Quarter on the shopping trip.

It turned out to be quite more boring than she’d imagined.

Seth meticulously began his search for the right sheets, comforter, and even the cushions to be on the couch. Reaching their tenth store, Finley began to drag her feet. “This isn’t the adventure that I thought it would be.” Falling forward to rest her forehead against his leg, she poked at the holstered gun for entertainment. It swung slightly, reminding her of a pendulum.

“I told ya this wasn’t going to be fun this time, bug,” Fenrir answered with a pat to her head. No amount of explanation before they left had swayed the child from wishing to come with them. He chuckled at her dramatic whine and fascination with the holster. “Hey, I know. Why don’tcha pick somethin’ out for Alice. It might make her feel more welcome.”

Give her a task and three... two... one...

Instant results. Finley gave a small gasp and her feet became spring loaded as she bounced uncontrollably in place. “I can? I can pick her something out? Anything I want?”

It took one nod of approval for her to set off further into the store in search of the perfect item to give to their new guest. Anything chosen would be vetted by Seth. It must match the decor and color scheme of the bedroom.

The store employees had a front row seat to free entertainment. Around and around, Finley circled, and weaved past displays of trinkets. Occasionally, she leaned in to study an object before shaking her head and continuing her search. Standing up on her tiptoes, she carefully took the glass item off the shelf and returned to her father’s side. “This one. It’s the one I want to give Alice,” Finley stated, cradling with both hands as if it would break at any moment.

The Ace of Spades cast a curious gaze down at her but broke out in a wide grin. He ruffled her short hair and voiced his approval. “It’s perfect, bug.”

****

Seth spent way too much time decorating the room. Finley remained grateful that she could not help and patiently waited on the couch where she could cause no trouble. The soldiers at the mercy of the ten of spades were under intense scrutiny. One millimeter off from Seth’s vision and they received an ear full. The moment it ended, they scurried off to escape their strict supervisor.

“You did all this for me?” Alice asked, arriving with Fenrir at her side. Her steps into the room slow and eyes wide to take in the beautiful result. She’d insisted that they didn’t need to redecorate the space but lost to the relentless army leaders.

Finley climbed to her feet on the couch, holding out the small gift bag towards the woman with the biggest smile. “I bought this for you! Welcome to Black Headquarters! We have lots of fun here and you’ll be safe!” From Ray had told her, Alice had nowhere to go and needed their protection. He didn’t say from what, but Finley knew there was no place safer than here.

Alice accepted the gift and pulled the glass trinket from within. Up in the light, she observed the pale blue elephant. It matched the colors in the bedroom, but how this particular object had been chosen alluded the woman. “Thank you, it’s quite beautiful,” her warm words paused with realization, “I’m sorry, I never asked your name. I’m Alice.”

“I’m Finley. I’ve been reading a book about elephants and they are really cool. Did you know that they spend twelve to eighteen hours a day eating?” She spouted off the fact before bouncing up and down on the cushion. “I wish I could eat for that long. There would be so many yummy things I could eat in that amount of time, like crepes, ice cream, brownies, cookies, cookie brownies.”

“You might make yourself sick eating that much sweets,” Alice replied, finding it impossible not to like the young girl. She had a lot of experience with kids eating too many sweets, since she worked in a bakery.

A hum passed the child’s lips and her head tilted in response. “But Luka doesn’t have that kind of time,” she said as if that were the only problem with it. Nothing satisfied her more than the Jack’s cooking. Her gaze snapped back up to Alice. “And Elephants can consume 300 to 600 pounds of food per day. That’s like 8 to 17 of me.”

Fenrir leaned against the door frame, making no effort to reel in his wild child. Her rambling would go on for a while if he did nothing. “We did the math on it,” he interjected, confirming her statement.

“Wow, that’s quite a lot of you for an elephant to eat.” Alice laughed in response.

“Oh, and Elephants can swim underwater and breathe through their trunks. I have to hold my breath when I swim. And, and, their trunks can grow to be six feet long, which is almost as long as Sirius is tall.” Finley stuck her arm out and waved it like how she imaged an elephant’s trunk would move.

Alice cast a glance at the Ace standing in the doorway. “She’s passionate about elephants, isn’t she?” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and found herself laughing more at the elephant sounds that Finley was attempting.

“Yeah, that’s right. She bought an information book about Elephants last month. It ain’t got any stories, and very few pictures, but she has me help her read it every night. That’s why she can recite it from memory.” Fenrir loved how much his daughter liked learning. She would be starting kindergarten next year, and formal teaching wasn’t his thing. He let her decide what kind of things she wanted to study. 

“How about the elephant go check on what Luka’s cooking for tonight. Maybe he’ll give you a sample.”

All three turned to see the King of Spades eyeing the young Godspeed with amusement. He adored her like she was his own. At the moment, he wished to discuss some important things with Alice and Fenrir, but the very loud and literal elephant in the room made that quite difficult.

Finley hopped off the couch and took off at full speed for the kitchen. She hopped down the stairs, crouching low and then jumping as high as her legs would allow until she’d reached the bottom. “Luuuka!” Finley took a deep breath once she entered the room. Everything smelled delicious. “Can you make me enough food to eat for 12 to 18 hours a day?”

“No.” His answer the obvious one and it didn’t faze the girl at all.

“Okay.” She relented easy and skipped across the room to stand at his side. She held up her index finger to make her next point. “If I were an elephant, you would have to. That’s how much they eat.”

Luka brushed the chopped vegetables into the pot of boiling water before giving in to the conversation. “It’s a good thing you aren’t an elephant, then.” He couldn’t imagine her eating more than she already did. She was healthy and active, but she ate nearly as much as a grown man. If no one stopped her, Luka feared she would eat herself into a coma.

“You are making a lot of food though,” Finley muttered, standing on her tiptoes to snatch a lost piece of broccoli off the counter. As she chewed it, she gasped loudly and inhaled a little bit of the vegetable. Her hand covered her mouth as she coughed until it cleared. It didn’t deter her excitement. “Are we having a party?”

What the child loved nearly as much as spooky things, was a good party that lasted well past her bedtime.

“We’re giving the little lady a welcome party,” Sirius cut in, returning from the dining hall where he’d been setting the table. With this much food involved, Luka couldn’t be expected to do it all alone. Everyone needed to pitch in.

Oh! I wanna help. Can I?” The second she got permission, Finley dashed across the room to retrieve the wooden two-step step stool, crafted from a woodworker’s shop in a town nearby specifically for her. It hit the cabinets under the counter with a thud and creaked as she climbed up.

Sirius came in and out as dishes were completed, taking them away before the girl growing ever hungrier with every delicious item that Luka and Sirius had made. The sun had slid down beyond the horizon, leaving only twinkling stars and the bright moon illuminating the dark landscape outside the window.

With the last dish done, Finley stepped off the stool and collapsed into a puddle with a growling stomach. She did enjoy cooking, but this had drained her of all her energy. She laid flat with her forehead pressed to the floor and arms out, sprawled out like a starfish. “If I were an elephant, I’d never be this hungry, ever.” The words muffled by the tile beneath her.

Luka simply stepped over her, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Elephants don’t get to attend parties, do they? Don’t you want to be Finley and be allowed to come to the dining hall?” 

A moment of silence passed over the kitchen.

“Okay, I want to be Finley again.” Clambering to her feet, she staggered forward, moving a little too fast for her weary legs. She made it to the door before being snatched up into someone’s arms.

“Good, cause everyone loves ya as Finley,” Fenrir said, placing a kiss on the side of her head. He lifted her up higher to sit her on his shoulders. Her fingers weaved into his hair, petting him affectionately. “Let’s go party, bug!” 

The dining hall could not have fit any more soldiers. The table lined with all the delectable foods and desserts that had been made. Various bottles of beer and alcohol were spread out on a table pushed into the far corner. As full as it was, not a single one spoke. Everyone stood looking at the other door, awaiting their guest of honor.

As the door creaked open, Alice’s features lit up with a mixture of thankfulness and embarrassment. A chorus rang out from all the soldiers and the small girl sitting on her father’s shoulders. No rehearsal led to an out of sync round, but the message came loud and clear, setting the festivities off.

“Welcome to the Black Army!”

[ampmiscfiles]

To Us You’re Worth Everything Chapter 7: I want it....I don't

Start at Chapter 1

Relationship: Peter Parker/Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker/Pietro Maximoff

Peter had no idea where he was going. The compound was large and his senses were frazzled by the information input. He just wanted someplace to go that wasn't full of people, and maybe block out the worry of his soulmates he was feelings through their bond.

Eventually, he came across a plain, unmarked door and ducked inside, only to dodge to the left just in time to avoid a punching bag slamming into the door.

"Peter?"

Peter looked up to the startled and concerned face of Steve Rogers.

"Are you ok? I didn't get you did I?" he frowned, rushing over to check on him.

Peter just blinked up at him as he fretted over him.

Was Steve Rogers actually.........worried about him?

"You seem ok." Steve sighed in relief. "What are you doing in here?"

"I.....I was....."

"Looking for some place to hide?"

Peter's eyes widened at Steve's friendly smile.

"They told you about the adoption I assume?"

Peter just nodded, unable to form words.

"Yeah, I can imagine that was quite a shock." Steve looked at him before turning back to the gym. "Wanna take out some of that pent up emotion on a bag? It helps me. That's what I was doing when you came in."

"You must have a lot then." Peter said, looking at the crumpled bags on the floor.

"Yeah....." Steve said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I was just reminded of some bad memories."

Peter watched as Steve closed his eyes and took a breath.

"So, how about that bag?"

Peter looked over to where Steve had a stack of fresh punching bags, then back at the man.

"Yeah.....yeah....I think I'd like that."

"Come on kid."

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

"Should we go after him?" Wanda asked, worried about Peter's reaction.

"No." Pepper said. "I'm sure it was just a lot for him to take it. Just give him time to process it. It'll be ok."

The twins frowned, looking in the direction Peter had run off to. His distress was overwhelming, causing their soul marks to tingle.

"Here, let's give you some piece of mind kiddos." Tony grinned. "FRI?"

"Yes Boss?"

"Give me the whereabouts of our runaway teen."

"He is in the gym with Captain Rogers."

"Of course he'd find Steve." Tony rolled his eyes.

"What are they doing, FRIDAY?" Pepper asked, shoving Tony lightly.

"They appear to be using the punching bags."

"See, he's ok." Pepper smiled softly, pulling the twins into a hug. "It'll be ok once we get everything taken care of."

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

"Everything ok at home?" Natasha asked, looking at Clint's solemn face.

"Yeah. I told Laura what was going on. She agreed about me staying to make sure things are ok for Peter. She also had some choice suggestions on how to deal with our friends."

"Oh? Don't keep me in suspense."Natasha grinned.

"She's of the opinion that going to jail isn't enough and wouldn't it just be crazy if when the cops showed up, Kathy and Kent Matthews appeared to be victims of a random break-in and assault."

"You know, I heard break-in rates are increasing during daylight hours."

"Me too. I've also heard that the chance of it being a violent encounter has risen as well." Clint nodded.

"I also heard there was a strange, dark blue car in the neighborhood. No tags."

"Speaking of dark blue, you know, that old car in the garage needs a new paint job. It's not as cool as a solid black car would be. Maybe we should have it painted this afternoon."

"I agree." Natasha smiled, tossing her red hair over her shoulder. "Let's take it for one last ride."

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

"Feeling any better?" Steve asked, hanging a new bag and moving the one Peter had busted.

Oddly enough, he did. He hadn't realized just how.....angry, sad, depressed, and lonely he had been. Then again, it wasn't like he didn't deserve it. People like him always ended up alone. It was just the way things were, and how they should be.He wouldn't be in the position he was now if he was worth anythin-he froze.

He was going to be adopted. Adopted by Pepper Potts!

No!

No, he couldn't let that happen!

He couldn't stay here!

If he stayed here, they would all figure out all the terrible things about him. They would learn that Spider-Man wasn't as good as they thought he was.

They might find out he often had lapses in his memories. Times where he woke up with bruises that weren't from Kathy or Kent. Times when his knuckles hurt so bad he could barely open and close his hands.

Times when he would catch stories of criminals suffering severe beatings in dark alleys by a person in black.

Times when he found his ratty black hoodie and jeans with splatters of blood on them.

Times when he would ignore those stories because there was no way he knew who was responsible. Who would be so brutal?

He didn't know. He didn't!

They figure it out though. They were the Avengers.

They would know he was a bad person who deserved whatever he got. A person who didn't deserve Pepper Potts. A person who definitely didn't deserve soulmates like Wanda and Pietro.

He'd hurt them.

He'd hurt the team.

He'd be a burden like he always was. Like he was always told he was.

He couldn't love anyone. That ability had been stripped from him long ago. He hadn't been able to be good to any of his foster families. They told him so. They told him as they beat him. They told him as they made him go hungry. They told him as they took things from him.

They told him he would have more if he was better.

They told him he'd never be better.

He wasn't better.

He never got more.

Spider-Man had a mask to hide his flaws. Peter Parker was bare to the world.

You can't hide you worth when there isn't any to begin with.

"Peter?"

Peter's eyes snapped up to Steve's worried ones.

"Are you ok? You want to keep going?" he motioned towards the bag.

Peter's eyes wandered from the new, hanging back and over to where the pile of bags he had busted sat.

Had he really broken that many? How had he not been paying better attention? He'd broken so many bags! He broke their equipment! Steve had been nice and invited him to join and that was how he repaid him?

Noting where his eyes focused, Steve looked back at Peter with a smile.

"It's ok, kid. We've got plenty. I break them all the time."

But Steve was an Avenger! This was the Avenger compound! Of course he was allowed to break things! Peter had no right! He shouldn't have accepted Steve's offer to begin with. It was a stupid choice.

Peter made stupid choices often.

Peter took a step back, his eyes still focused on the, now useless, gym equipment.

He didn't have the money to replace them.

"Seriously, don't worry about it Peter."

"I...I'm sorry!" he shouted, turning and running once again.

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

Steve watched Peter bolt with a sad frown.

If only the kid knew how many bags he went through in a week. There really wasn't any reason for him to worry. He had super strength. He was bound to break something.That was why the gym was in constant repair.

Pepper needed to push Peter to spend more time with Wanda and Pietro.

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

Pietro sighed as he idly wandered the halls. He and Wanda hadn't spent any real time apart since discovering Peter was their missing soulmate, but she had gone with Pepper to busy herself in the kitchen, leaving him to take some time to himself. He was glad to note the tingling they had felt from Peter's extreme emotions were gone. Whatever Peter was doing with Steve had calmed him a good bit. There was still fear, and worry, but it wasn't as strong.

It was obvious things weren't going to be easy getting through to Peter, though. The terrified look on his face had been enough of a sign for that.

Still, they wouldn't give up on him. He was theirs and they were his.

Rounding the corner, he grunted as someone slammed into him, knocking both of them to the ground.

Looking up, he was met with messy brown curls before warm brown eyes looked into his.

Peter.

Pietro felt his heart hammer as the two lay sprawled out on the floor with Peter draped over him. He watched as the boy's face turned pink, and his eyes widened, but he didn't move.

Smiling softly, Pietro wound his arms around him and held him close.

"Are you ok?"

"I....I....." Peter stumbled, trying to form coherent words while wrongly, and what he knew was also a bit selfishly, drinking in the soothing warmth of his soulmate.

If he had wanted to deny his bond to Wanda and Pietro before, there was no way to do it now. He hadn't felt this feeling since Ben and May had died, and it felt so good it hurt.

It hurt that he couldn't fully enjoy it.

"How about we get up off the floor?" Pietro grinned, keeping one arm locked around Peter while lifting himself up with the other.

Slowly the two stood, and as bad as he wanted to run again, Peter found Pietro's hold wasn't the only thing stopping him from leaving.

He couldn't make himself move.

Bright blue eyes studied with face with concern and........love?

God, did Peter miss love.

God, did he not deserve it.

"I...I'm sorry I knocked you over."

"I could think of worse things to happen." Pietro chuckled. "Besides, Wanda's done it plenty of times. You'd think, as fast as I am, I could avoid it but she gets me every time."

The bond coursed through Peter, stronger the longer he stayed in contact. Everyone knew soulmates thrived on contact, both physical and emotional.

"Want to talk about why you were running?"

Peter's eyes glistened as he remembered what had led to this encounter to begin with. He had just left Steve with his mess.

Steve must think so bad of him. He didn't eventryto clean up. He should have. He owed it.

Stupid.

Just something else he did wrong.

"It's ok." Pietro smiled. "You don't have to talk about it. I mean, we've kind of hit you with a lot of information today. We hate that it happened this way."

He frowned as he ran his hand up and down Peter's back absentmindedly.

"Still, we can't let you go back, Peter." he cupped Peter's pink cheek. "It's not safe for you there. They'll keep hurting you. Here with us is where you belong. Here where you can be loved and taken care of how you deserve."

Pietro had no idea what Peter did and did not deserve.

"Don't even try to deny it." Pietro said firmly, bopping Peter on the nose and cutting off what he was going to say. "You're staying here."

He smiled before placing a kiss on the top of Peter's head.

Unable to stop himself, Peter leaned into him.

He was so tired.

He allowed himself the thoughts of staying and living with everyone and being happy with Wanda and Pietro, but thoughts were all they could remain. As safe as he felt at this moment, it just wasn't possible.

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

Steve ducked back around the corner with a smile.

He had come looking for Peter, worried about him after he had run. Coming around the corner to see him wrapped up with Pietro was more than he could have hoped for. The soulmate bond would comfort Peter in a way no one or nothing could.

Not all injuries were visible to the eye, and Peter had a lot of internal ones. Steve had seen it written all over his face when he arrived at the gym and after he realized what he had done while in there.

For all the personal issues members of the teams had, Peter may have more than any of them. As young as he was, the severe amount of physical and emotional abuse could cut deeper than it would as an adult. Peter wasn't old enough to be able to escape it. He wasn't mentally developed enough to deny it.

He was only 15 years old. He was still practically a baby.

Steve's fists clenched in anger. Peter was a part of their team, and Steve Rogers would make damn sure he would know how loved and protected he was and was going to be. His foster parents would never hurt anyone again.

And if Captain America needed to have some public opinions on the Matthews' case to make sure any punishments stuck, well, Steve wasn't above it.

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

"Peter Parker is with Pietro Maximoff."

Wanda dropped the plate she had been holding, not even registering as it crashed to the floor and shattered into pieces.

They had asked FRIDAY to keep track of Peter's movements while he was alone.

"Why don't you go find them." Pepper said, giving Wanda a little push. "I'll get this cleaned up."

Wanda nodded, rushing off as FRIDAY told her where they were.

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

Peter was still foolishly indulging his body's desire to be with its other half, or in his case part of his other half, when he felt another warm presence press into him from behind.

Arms wrapped around his waist as a cheek was rested on his head.

His inner bond, once in repressed submission, screamed in delight. This was it. This was where he was meant to be. It shouted at him to never leave. It had gotten a taste of a real connection, and it wasn't going to let go so easily.

It wasn't going to let Peter's insecurities dictate things so freely anymore.

It was demanding control.

It was terrifying.

He needed to leave.

"Shh, little spider." Wanda whispered, feeling how he tensed up. "We have you. No one will hurt you. We want you. You are loved. You are worthy. You are special. You don't have to run anymore."

Peter felt his panic rising. He didn't know what to do. He heard her words, and their bond told him she was being honest, but his mind argued that she could be using her powers to lie. To make him think things that weren't true, were. He had no idea just what she was really capable of. There was no guarantee she couldn't manipulate their bond. Maybe they were being truthful about taking him from Kathy and Kent, but that didn't really mean they were planning on keeping him. Everything could be a lie just to get him to make things easier.

He squeezed his eyes shut as Wanda started humming an easy tune behind him.

Tears slipped down his cheeks.

He couldn't move though.

His body wouldn't obey. It was betraying him. It was drinking in the feeling only a found soulmate could give.

"Glad to see you lot are getting along."

The three looked over as Tony looked at them with approval.

Wanda and Pietro smiled, happy to be able to hold Peter close to them.

Peter however, used the distraction to break the hold and moved over to Tony.

"It's getting late!" he shouted, wincing at how he sounded. "I...I should be getting back. It's a long ride."

Tony's sigh didn't hide the gasps of the twins behind him.

"We already told you, Pete. You're not going back there."

"I-I have things there!"

"Kid, I don't know if you've just chosen to ignore that high IQ of yours or not, but nothing you have there is worth keeping. I don't know why you'd want any of it."

Because his black hoodie and jeans didn't get washed. They were tucked in the back of his closet.

He didn't know whose blood was on them.

He didn't!

He didn't know how the stains kept getting there!

No, he couldn't have anyone find them and think he had put it there.

He hadn't!

"I have a picture of Uncle Ben and Aunt May!"

It wasn't a lie. He really did. It was just hidden.

It had to be.

It would have been taken if he hadn't.

It would remind him of how he didn't save or protect them.

On second thought, Kathy and Kent would probably like him having it.

"Well, we can't get anything until after those assholes are taken care of. I'm sure we can have someone go in and get it."

"No! I need to go get it!"

"If you think we're letting you anywherenearthat place again, you're crazy Peter." Tony stated, voice firm. "Besides, the place will have to be investigated for evidence."

They were going to find the clothes!

"Evidence? Do you think there is any evidence of Peter's treatment?" Wanda asked.

Tony hesitated. They didn't know about Natasha and Clint's finds, and it was going to remain that way as long as possible.

"We don't know, but they'll want a look around."

Peter felt sick and his breathing quickened.

Cool hands cupped his face, turning him to look at Wanda's soft expression.

"It's ok, Peter. Everything is going to be fine."

Nothing was going to be fine.

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

Pepper dumped the dust pan full of broken plate into the trash can. She couldn't even be upset about it. Peter was with his soulmates, and apparently hadn't left since FRIDAY hadn't updated her as to his whereabouts. Still, she didn't think a few moments with them was going to undo years of psychological abuse. Once everything had settled, she'd look into asking Sam if he would be willing to provide some therapy for Peter. Perhaps he would be willing to talk to Sam over anyone else.

"How's everything going?"

"Speak of the devil." Pepper smirked.

Sam raised an eyebrow.

I'm a lot of things, but I like to think I'm better than that!"

"I was just thinking about you actually. I was wondering if you'd be willing to talk with Peter. Try to figure out just how deep his abuse runs."

Sam sighed, sliding into a bar stool and resting his elbows on the counter.

"I can try, but I don't know if Peter's going to be ready for that. Not everyone can jump into therapy, even if they can admit they need it."

Pepper nodded, chewing her bottom lip.

"I'm just worried. He ran. That's avoidance. He doesn't want to be here."

"Well, I don't honestly think he wants to go back there." Sam said, giving her a settling look. "There's nothing good there, and no matter how much he's let himself believe the abuse, buried in there somewhere is the knowledge that what they were doing wasn't right or deserved. Still, he's been with them a while, and in one day everything is being taken away, and new things are being thrown at him."

Pepper sighed, running her hand down her face.

"It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't supposed to be all at once. As bad as we hated it, We weren't sure he wasn't going to have to go back tonight. Nat and Clint went to dig up dirt on them so we could try to get him tomorrow at least if he did, but after what they found that isn't an option. Peter will have to go to a group home until I can push the adoption through. This is a disaster."

"You couldn't have prepared for this, Pep. Bringing him here to begin with was just to get him out the house and hopefully connect with Wanda and Pietro. There was no way to know it was all gonna go to shit. Where is he now?"

"With Wanda and Pietro, or at least he was."

"That's good."

"I hope so. I worry about him. You only have to be around him a few minutes to see all the sadness around him." Pepper frowned.

"You'd never know anything was going on based on how he acts as Spider-Man. Always in a good mood and bouncing around. It really is amazing what anonymity can do for a person."

"I don't even want to think about breeching that topic with Peter."

"You wanna out him as Spider-Man?"

"Pepper Potts adopts some random kid and Spider-Man is suddenly seen with the Avengersall thetime instead of just some? People are going to snoop and put things together anyway. It's better for us to do it on our terms."

Sam nodded in understanding.

"Well, let's just make it through the next 24 to 48 hours and see how it goes."

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

Tony swallowed as he looked at the annoyed faces of the Maximoff twins over the top of Peter's head. The boy was steadily trying to herd him in the opposite direction of them and towards, what Tony thought he assumed, was freedom.

Poor kid had no idea there was no where he could go in this compound that he couldn't be found.

"We...we need to talk a lot Mr. Stark. There..theres a lot to....to....to get figured out. I....I'm going to be sent to a group home, right? That's what Ms. Potts said. Where...where is it?"

Peter froze.

A group home.

He was going to be sent to a group home until his adoption was done.

He'd be in a home full of other kids.

One kid in a crowd.

One kid that could easily slip away.

Disappear.

Hopefully he could get his picture of Ben and May back before he......

"I want to talk about the group home!"

Sighing, Tony pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Why don't we all go to my office and talk about some things."

Peter nodded and found himself flanked on both sides by Wanda and Pietro.

He didn't mind it.

They wouldn't have to do it long.

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

"We actually wanted you to stay here for the night." Tony said, looking walking around his office.

Wanda, Pietro and Peter were sitting on the couch, watching him pace.

"Unfortunately, my lawyers disagreed. They said that wouldn't work. So while we all deal with the Matthews, a social worker will be coming to collect you this evening."

Peter nodded, soaking up the information.

"What...what about my stuff?"

"I can try to get it out first. If you can tell me where the picture is, they can go for it first."

"It's under my mattress. I also left the phone you gave me under there."

"Ok. We can take care of it. I'm sure they can take time to get you one thing."

"How long will he be there?" Wanda asked, her voice soft.

"Just until we can get the adoption done. It's my lawyers though, so not long." Tony smiled at her before looking back at Peter. "So don't get comfortable kid. You'll be back here before you know it."

Peter nodded, already three steps ahead of their plans.

He would be going to the group home tonight. Hopefully they could get him his picture tomorrow, and then he could leave. Surely it would take at least two to three days for everything to be finalized.

He could be long gone by then.

He hated the idea of being homeless so bad he stayed in an abusive home, but he gets offered a great one with his soulmates and he was going to run.

There really is something wrong with Peter Parker.

[toshisae]

scripted ➵ lee jeno

summary: in which you and your ex star in a new movie where ironically you two are dating again, like where you two once started

genre: angst-ish to fluff

theme: actor!au + ex to lovers!au

word count: 1.7k 

author’s note: hhhh yes hello i’m back, inspired by ‘heartache on the big screen’ by 5sos ++ let me know if you guys would like a part 2

italics = flashback!

“it’s not you.. it’s me” jeno runs a hand over his face. your face dropped as you put down your glass of iced tea “so everything was just nothing to you huh” you angrily stood up from the table. jeno ducked his head down, “stop, you’re making a scene” he hushed, looking around at the people in the restaurant staring at the two of you. “so that’s all you care about? fine. be like that then. we’re through!” you pushed your chair back and strutted away from jeno and the restaurant.

the following day after that night, you and jeno made it to the headlines. ‘Lee Couple Broken Up?!’ with your picture pushing past the paparazzi was in front of the newspaper and headlines.

you were an actress. a well known actress to be exact; and so was jeno. you two met during your first breakthrough movie. ironically enough your role at the time was jeno’s little sister and the news that you were dating your co star shocked the internet if you were being honest.

“you broke up with lee jeno?!” your manager slash best friend, haechan busts into your room. “oh okay” he muffles his laugh as he sees you sprawled out on the floor, angry tears running down your cheeks. “fuck off hyuck, i’m not in the mood” you sniffled, sitting up giving him a death glare. haechan quietly closes your door and sits on your bed. “wanna talk about it?” he peeks over at your lying figure. “no” you rolled over to your stomach. haechan stayed quiet knowing you were gonna break any minute now. a moment has passed and you stood up and sat next to hyuck, resting your head on his shoulder. “so..” 

“well shit” was all haechan could say about your story. “you’re supposed to be cheering me up, dickhead” you slapped his chest. haechan winces and stands up from the bed. “let’s go shopping and i’m not taking no as an answer” he says before grabbing your hand and dragging your ass away from bed

–

“would you mind explaining this?” renjun, jeno’s manager walks in front of the tv and throws a newspaper article onto jeno, who was busy playing PUBG on his playstation. “i’m kinda busy here” jeno tried to look past renjun but renjun ended up unplugging the tv. “DUDE WHAT THE FUCK” jeno slams his controller down, towering over renjun just a tiny bit. 

“i’m older than you, sit your ass down and show a bit of respect” renjun pokes jeno’s chest. jeno huffs and plops down on his couch, pouting. “i’m sorry hyung” he looks away from his manager. renjun sits down next to him, “so are we just gonna pretend you never dated lee y/n?” renjun looks at jeno. jeno grumbles and scratches his hair. “ugh i’m going to jaemin’s” jeno stands up, grabs a random hoodie on the floor and his car keys. “goddamn it jeno..” renjun sighs as he watched jeno walk out of their shared apartment.

–

“why would you do that tho” jaemin takes a sip out of his coffee whilst listening to jeno rant about his love life. “i don’t know! i just- maybe i got bored of our relationship? the spark died or something?!” jeno rambles on, pacing around jaemin’s living room. “i mean if i were you, i’d never let y/n go like have you seen her?” jaemin sighs dreamily, smiling to himself at the thought of you. “back off na jaemin” jeno sends a death glare towards jaemin’s direction. jaemin puts up his hands in defense. “chill dude, i’m just saying she’s pretty” jaemin smirks knowing this conversation they were having is making jeno miserable little by little. 

–

“i’m so tired” you whined the moment you and hyuck entered your shared apartment. “oh so you’re tired? how about me who carried all your shit from the mall!” haechan retaliates as he struggles to put down your oh so many paper bags on the kitchen counter. “not my problem anymore señior” you laughed out loud. haechan huffs and walks over to his office.

an hour or so has passed and you hear hyuck’s office door open. “hey y/n” he calls out. “yeah?” you respond

“how about you would like to audition for a new coming of age movie?” 

–

after venting everything to jaemin, jeno goes home a little late. he quietly enters the apartment. it still looked the same how he left it except there was a pink sticky note in front of the tv. ‘got you a gig. here’s the script, auditions will be tomorrow at 1 pm sharp -ronjun” 

                                                     a week later

“hello?” you answered your phone. “is this y/n?” a voice speaks. you looked over at hyuck who was across the table with a confused face. “yeah it is. how may i help you?” you asked. “hi! i’m the director for the new movie, disconnected? and i’m here to tell you that you got the part! you’re the main protagonist” the voice tells you the news happily. your mouth opened in shock, “oh my god thank you so much!” you cried out loud, mouthing ‘i got the part’ to haechan. “i’ll be expecting you soon! see you” the other line hangs up. you put down your phone and ran to hyuck. “i got the part!” you hugged him

–

renjun knocks on jeno’s door. “come in” renjun walks in to see jeno playing on his phone. “what’s up?” jeno stares at renjun, putting his phone away. renjun grins, creeping jeno out. “why are you smiling like that?” jeno eyes him. renjun suddenly throws him the official script of the movie he was gonna star in. “holy shit i got the part?” jeno’s eyes widened and stared at the thick script with glee. “you bet baby!” renjun exclaims in joy, throwing his fists up in the air. “you’re the love interest of the protagonist! you’ll start on tuesday but you’ll meet the cast tomorrow” renjun informs jeno. 

you walked inside the studio you were supposed to meet your new colleagues in together with haechan. you watched haechan talk to the staff members asking where are the offices that you need to go in to. “hyuck i’m gonna buy some coffee over there” you point over at the small starbucks kiosk just right by the corner of the information booth. haechan hums as he speaks with the staff member

you got in line, chanting your order in your head so you won’t embarrass yourself in front of the barista. “yeah can i get a grande iced americano and a tall caramel macchiato please?” a familiar voice speaks up in front of you. your eyes widened, staring at this strangers back. “good morning! may i take your order?” the barista chirps, cutting your train of thought. you smiled at the barista, “hi can i get a venti mocha frap and a tall vanilla bean frap please?” the barista smiles back and punches in your order. “your order will be up in 10 minutes” she hands you the receipt. 

–

“nervous?” renjun asks jeno who was in the passenger seat as they both drive to the location of the studio. “a bit” jeno chuckles, throwing his head back. “why would you be? you’re a well known actor! directors would kill to get you on their movies” renjun laughs, giving jeno a glance from the rear view mirror. “i don’t know man, i just feel like something bad is gonna happen” jeno sighs, leaning against the window. renjun shrugs and carries on driving. 

––

“can you buy me some coffee?” jeno requests to renjun as he finishes up writing this form. renjun nods and leaves jeno alone with the information assistant. jeno suddenly notices haechan walk past him. he tenses up and tries to divert his attention to the sheet of paper in front of him. “sir, that would be all” the clerk yanks the paper away from jeno. jeno turns into a bright shade of red and laughs awkwardly, surely catching the attention of haechan. 

haechan turns to his side to see jeno smiling awkwardly while sending a small wave to his direction. “oh hey didn’t see you there” he manages to choke out. haechan gives him half assed smile before turning his attention back to the person he was talking with.

“hyuck here’s your drink- oh my god” 

–

you almost dropped the cup of coffee in your hand after seeing jeno standing next to hyuck. “what’s going on here” renjun comes out of no where. “oh my god” he covers his mouth in shock. 

“ah yes! the two main protagonists of my new upcoming movie!” the director walks over to the four of you. you looked at haechan and then the director. jeno does the same thing with renjun.

“main protagonists?!” you and jeno both yell at the same time

“there must be a mistake director, there’s no way he’s my love interest! it’s gotta be somebody else!” you complained. haechan flicks your forhead, “we’re in a meeting, be more professional” he hushed. the director reads the script and adjusts his glasses. “what do you mean? he’s perfect for the role! do you recommend any other male actors for his position, miss y/n?” the director faces you. you shake your head no and the director smiles, “see? i told you” 

“do i get a say in this?” jeno asks loudly for everyone to hear. the director now turns to jeno with the same smile as before, “any concerns sir lee?” renjun beats him to it before jeno could say anything. “actually no. so when will the shoot start?” he whips out his handy laptop. 

“ah yes, the shoot will start in about a month. it would be nice if our main protagonist here,” the director points at you, “to dyes her hair a darker shade of brown? and the love interest,” he points over at jeno, “to dye his hair a chesnut color” the director proposes. “sounds good to me. needed to get my hair done anyway” you twirled a piece of your hair. jeno seems to nod in agreement making the director happy. “okay then it’s settled! now we just gotta sign the contract” he hands the two of you a piece of paper. 

not thinking much about it, you immediately signed the contract. except for the fact you were gonna star in a new movie with your ex. 

[vincess-princess]

ex malo bonum

behold, the dumpsterfire of a fic i’ve been obsessing over for the last week.

Fandom: Motley Crue Characters, pairings: demon!Nikki Sixx, demon!Tommy Lee, demon!Mick Mars, fallen angel!Vince Neil, Nikki/Vince, elements of Tommy/Vince and hints of Nikki/Tommy Rating: Explicit Warnings (please pay attention!!!): violence, non-con, drug use mention, alcohol mention, self-harm tendencies, suicide attempts, murder Summary: Vince thought he knew where fallen angels go and what they become. But he never expected to go through something like that. A/N: I’m not religious at all and my entire knowledge of Christian canon comes from Jesus Christ Superstar and Bulgakov’s Master and Margarita. I was making up lore on the go and I dare assume almost all of it is completely wrong. If you’re offended by this, please don’t proceed!

As always, huge thanks to @polska-tankietka for editing this, love ya!

Chapter 1.

Word count: 2677

Warnings (for this particular chapter): violence, suicide attempts mention, alcohol mention, drug use mention

“Did it hurt?”

“What?” Vince blinked and looked up from his shot of whiskey. He was already on his fifth, but was only slightly tipsy (must have something to do with the quick regeneration thing). The shitty bar where he was drinking himself into oblivion was dimly lit, and he had to squint to make out the face of a stranger standing behind his shoulder. The stranger’s voice was pleasant, but there was something… unsettling in it. Off-putting. Hostile.

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he repeated smugly. His hand crawled onto Vince’s shoulder and clutched it. A hot, blinding spike of something that felt like electric shock went down Vince’s spine, and everything became so clear he wondered how in the world he hadn’t seen it coming. In his defense, they were faster than he thought.

“It did,” Vince raised his head and looked the demon straight in the eyes, curving his lips in disgust. “A lot.”

The first was a car, a truck going down a busy highway with a very convenient pedestrian bridge over it. Vince figured out the right moment and jumped, his white Heaven robes flapping like wings behind his back. When he woke up they were no longer white, but a dark red, the color he would have assumed to be his blood if he had found a single injury on his body. But there hadn’t been any.

He had to change his clothes after that, partly escaping humans too curious for their own good, partly no longer wanting to be reminded of what he had had and what he had lost.

“Drowning your sorrows in whisky, huh?” The demon pulled up a chair and plopped down on it, his hand sliding from Vince’s shoulder down onto his arm and staying there, grazing over the skin with his claws occasionally, oh so carefully. Vince didn’t pull his arm away from the grip, although every fiber of his being protested to the touch. He could reach that one pocket of his jacket with another hand just as easily. “If I were you, I would celebrate.”

“You aren’t me,” Vince retorted indifferently, turning away from the demon and focusing on his almost empty glass.

“Not yet, sweetie.” The demon grasped Vince’s chin with his fingers and turned his head back to face him. Vince shook his fingers off his chin with clear revulsion. “What a pretty thing you are. You know that? Have you already come across the human concept of beauty?”

“No,” Vince said listlessly. He couldn’t care less about the small talk, but the demon’s intentions still weren’t clear to him and asking directly felt weirdly untimely.

“You will,” the demon promised, moving closer to Vince, almost breathing into his ear, and Vince couldn’t help casting a quick look over him. Despite the lack of light, the demon’s eyes looked unnaturally green. “They’re completely obsessed over it. Starving themselves to death, wasting their entire salaries on beauty products, painting their faces until they are unrecognizable, squeezing their bodies into uncomfortable clothes. It’s so much fun. How did you manage to get such a good-looking body, though? All the angels I met looked like middle-aged accountants at best. Heaven is really obsessed over its employees’ purity.”

“Random distribution,” Vince murmured and downed his shot. The demon waved to the barista and showed him two fingers. A few moments later two shots of whisky were sent their way.

The second time, it was the height. Vince stood atop a twenty-story building and looked down at the busy street beneath, and everything was so little and insignificant. He didn’t have his wings anymore, but he could feel the rapture of flying one more time.

Vince woke up in the hole on the pavement the shape of which resembled that of his body. He had only a few scratches and not a single bone broken. He kept touching those scratches for the next hour until they healed.

Last time there were no injuries. Progress.

“I’m paying, baby.” The demon pulled a wallet out of the pocket of his leather jacket and slid two dollar-bills the barista’s way. “Enjoy your downfall. Did you already get the concept of money? Those humans turned pieces of metal and paper into their literal gods. They’re ready to die for it. How many of them, you think, are ready to die for an actual God, like real Jesus Christ, nowadays?”

His name out of the mouth of this despicable creature was like a string snapping in Vince’s chest, badly cutting his insides. “Don’t you dare speak His name,” he hissed, jerking his arm away from the demon’s grasp and moving his chair farther down the bar counter. If his gaze could kill, the demon’s body would already have been sprawled on the floor under the counter.

“Or what?” the demon stretched out his hand and wrapped his fingers around Vince’s elbow again, dragging him back in place. The chair legs gritted across the floor loudly, and Vince felt like all the eyes in the bar were on them now. The demon’s claws, painted in chipped black nail polish, were digging deep into his skin, but this time Vince didn’t try to wrestle away from his grip. This creature isn’t worthy of your anger, he reminded himself. “You’ll tell him and he’ll punish me? Funny. He no longer needs you, honey. That’s why he got rid of you. Threw you out like a toy he got fed up with.”

“Shut up,” Vince bit his lip and looked away. Every word slashed his soul like a sword, leaving deep, bleeding, unhealable cuts. “Stop that. Just-“ too early, a warning flashed across his mind, but he shook it off. The demon was clearly mocking him, and Vince wasn’t going to put up with that. “just tell me what you want from me.”

The third time, there were drugs. He tried regular pills from the pharmacy first - he heard they can cause death when consumed in excessive amounts. He woke up in the public toilet of some fast-food restaurant, in the puddle of his own vomit, with people banging on the door and shouting. Then there were other drugs, which people buy not in clean, white pharmacies with smiling women in doctor’s robes, but in dark alleys and night clubs. People didn’t want to give it to Vince without money, and he could no longer use any of his previous powers, so getting them was one hell of a job. All of which was in vain, because Vince only got a short and sharp sting of pleasure across his body before descending into darkness, and then woke up, this time in a hospital, surrounded by dumbfounded doctors.

“Nothing much,” the demon smiled sweetly and almost gently tucked a stray golden lock behind Vince’s ear. The demon’s own hair was pitch-black and wild, framing the sides of his face and falling onto his forehead, but still not managing to hide the uncanny gleam in his eyes. “You’re a pretty little thing, and I like pretty little things. Let’s hook up, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Hook up?” Vince frowned, and the demon laughed sincerely.

“Sweet innocence. Don’t worry, you’ll learn. It won’t take long. You’ll enjoy it. It’s one of the things humans do all the time, to have fun or kids or both, or aiming for one and getting the other.”

Vince gave him a long, hard look, for the first time this evening. He foresaw that – well, not exactly that, but something of a kind – and the blade dipped in holy water was now warming in the pocket of his jacket, reacting to the demonic presence. Killing a demon was hard and usually disapproved of by the authorities – the privilege of killing belonged only to high-ranked angels, ones who could withstand the temptation of sin inevitably coming with it. It was even harder for a fallen angel devoid of the Lord’s blessing. But it was possible.

His human vessel was shorter and weaker than that of the demon. But he had the blade. He had the advantage.

“Checking me out, huh?” The demon traced his fingertips along Vince’s jawline. Vince didn’t flinch back. “I gotta say, I am extremely lucky with my current vessel. It gets me all the chicks.”

“My human form is male.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re pretty, you qualify. Blond too. Love blonds.” The demon grinned, his teeth slightly sharper than human’s, a little bit too many of them. Devil is in the details, Vince recalled.

“Why don’t you get any other human then? Why me?”

“Honey, what demon wouldn’t want to bang a freshly fallen angel? It’s not every day that we have visitors from up there. You reek of Heaven, blondie. There’s still a lot of it in you. I wanna know how it feels.”

The demon licked his lips, eyeing Vince up as though he wanted to eat him whole. Vince shuddered but didn’t look away. He wasn’t afraid of him, after all.

“Sweetheart, I’m not gonna wait for you to come to terms with it. Don’t test my patience.”

“What if I refuse?” Vince carefully moved the untouched shot away, barely brushing the glass with the tip of a finger. The demon didn’t comment on it, but his gaze lingered on the rejected whisky a little longer than necessary.

“Then there will be a very loud and unpleasant scene that will surely feature in every newspaper by the end of the day. I feel like you still don’t fully understand,” the demon leaned closer to Vince and almost whispered in his ear, “I will get you anyway. You can only choose how, by force or by your own will.”

Vince closed his eyes, suppressing the urge to grip the handle of the blade through the jacket. He knew, of course, that demons couldn’t be trusted with a conversation, let alone an agreement. He shouldn’t have answered him in the first place. On the other hand, in this case. the demon wouldn’t have left him alone and would have forced him to answer. He couldn’t get rid of him with God’s power – he was no longer able to use it, neither could he deal with him with the help of simple, brutal force. Because he, as any angel, was against violence in general, not because the demon was half a head taller than him and had claws and sharp teeth.

Maybe it was better to just submit. Maybe the demon would be too distracted during this “hook-up”, whatever he was going to do to him, and wouldn’t notice Vince pulling out the blade. Maybe.

Submit and just let him do whatever he wants? something whispered quietly to him inside his head, something the invisible presence of which Vince could feel but only now got to hear. So you would let the forces of evil run amok because you’re not supposed to beat them?

Yes, Vince cut the something off and turned to the demon.

“Alright,” he said quietly. “It won’t take long, will it?”

“It will take as much as I need, angel, and by the end you will beg for more,” the demon promised complacently and pulled him up from the chair. “Come on. My car is in the parking lot.”

“Isn’t that kinda… uncomfortable?” Vince raised his eyebrow, for a second actually trying to imagine two whole people trying to find enough room on the backseat.

The demon burst into laughter, but the grip on Vince’s arm remained tight. “That’s the point, baby! Quick and dirty, exactly what you angels deserve. Come on.” He headed to the door, dragging Vince along.

Once they were outside, Vince lingered a little to inhale crisp, fresh night air - most of the Earth smells were still new to him, and some of them were quite pleasant. The demon interpreted it differently.

“Nervous? Don’t worry, all virgins are. You at least will probably be the first fallen angel to get rid of his virginity so quickly. Some never even get to experience it.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re ugly as hell, haven’t you heard me? I’m telling you,” he turned to Vince and poked him in the chest, “I’m telling you, this vessel is gonna be your best asset on this Earth. Everyone likes beautiful people. It’ll make your life down here easier. Actor, singer, model, hooker – choose whatever you want. Oh, here’s my car.” The demon pointed at a black, relatively small car in the farthest slot of the parking lot. “Seems small, but I can assure you, it fits our needs perfectly.”

“Your needs.”

“Eh, stop playing Virgin Mary. Mary Magdalene had a much better time before Jesus showed up. The girl was going places.” The demon grinned at the sight of indignation on Vince’s face. They approached the car, but instead of opening the door the demon backed Vince up against it, grabbed his collar and pulled him into a sloppy kiss.

Vince didn’t get to know what it felt like. A belt wrapped around his throat and yanked his body backward, hitting his back against the car roof and pinning him down to it. Vince’s hands flew up to the belt, scratching on it in a fruitless attempt to loosen it, but the assaulter was strong, stronger than him. And a demon as well, because the mere touch of his hands sent another spike of hot, buzzing electricity down Vince’s spine.

“Hold him!” The demon who brought him here tried to grab his wrists, got a kick in the stomach and had to take a second to drag himself off the ground. The second time he tried to grab him Vince was prepared.

The demon gasped and recoiled, his hands jerking up to his chest where the blade was now buried, barely audible sizzling coming out from the wound. The one behind Vince’s back almost rushed to help him, loosening his grip, but was stopped by a fierce glare of then-green eyes, now a solid black. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of Vince’s hair and banged his head on the car roof so hard it dented - the head or the roof, Vince didn’t really understand, because the world blurred in front of his eyes.

The next thing he remembered was lying on the cold pavement, hot blood dripping onto his eyes. A stray lock was hanging in front of his face, all smeared in blood as well. His hands were tied by the same belt that had been wrapped around his neck. Two demons stood above him, both black-haired and tall, their eyes now pitch-black, both radiating rage so intense it heated up the air around them.

“Fucking bitch,” the one from the bar spit out. “Who do you think you are to use this?” he raised the blade carefully by the handle. It was still covered in his blood, which oozed slowly from the cut in his chest and stained his shirt. Apart from that, it didn’t seem to cause much harm. “You’re no longer the warrior of God, blondie. You’re the same as us now. Wanna see?”

He kicked Vince in the side to roll him onto his back and then drove the blade right into his shoulder. Vince thought he knew what it would feel like: he had tried cutting himself before.

He didn’t expect it to burn, the same way it did in the demon’s flesh.

The demons didn’t even let him scream out his pain. They put something sticky on his mouth and threw him onto the backseat. The new, taller one, whose face Vince hadn’t managed to make out, got behind the wheel, and the green-eyed one sat at the back with Vince, his hand gripping his arm firmly, claws digging into his skin and leaving deep red marks.

Vince didn’t notice the pain. Tears streamed down his face silently while he was frantically, desperately searching for that connection he had always had deep inside his soul, the connection to Him.

He searched, and searched, and found nothing.

[wanderbreadsworld]

Misfits Apocalypse AU Ch 7

(Because I still can't think of a better name, this might just be it)

Warnings: dismemberment, cussing (of course)

The RV jerked to the side, throwing all its occupants to one side of the vehicle. All the boys screamed, asking what the fuck was going on.

"Someone ran out in front of me." Matt replied, trying to keep the RV from flipping over, which was proving difficult. Jay and Mason were clinging to each other, trying to hold on and keep from rolling around, while everyone else was trying to hold onto the nearest piece of furniture.

Matt managed to get the RV to safely skid to a halt on the road. He breathed a sigh of relief from the driver's seat, turning around to look at the rest of the boys, who were all sprawled out, holding onto the nearest object for dear life.

"Is everyone okay?" Matt asked, his heart rate was still through the roof after that scare.

"What the fuck?" Swagger stormed out of the bedroom angrily, rubbing his head where he smacked his face against the wall and floor.

"Someone ran in front of me. Is everyone alright?" Matt asked again, looking at each of them. He got multiple groans in response.

"Next time, just hit them." Racc groaned, pulling himself back onto the couch.

There was a sudden banging on the door of the RV, making everyone freeze and listen.

"HELP ME! LET ME IN!" A man's voice outside the door screamed, followed by more banging. The boys stayed in their spots, just staring at the door. There was the sound of girgling and hissing that could only be coming from approaching zombies. The man's pleas became more desparate as the zombies quickly grew closer, the sound of their footsteps and noises almost deafening from how many there were. Quickly, the man's screams of terror became screams of pain as the zombies began to tear into him, ripping apart his limbs, and opening chist chest and stomach to get to his organs.

Jay sat on the floor, eyes squeezed shut with his hands over his ears, trying to block out the man's screaming, while the other boys turned their heads away from the door, hating what they were hearing.

The man's screaming stopped after one final, loud 'RIP'. The zombies had torn his throat out, finally killing the stranger right outside their door. Mason sat down in front of Jay, gently pulling his hands away from his ears to comfort him.

The boys still held their breath as the zombies were still outside, and they were no occupied with trying to find out how to get into the RV now that their prey was dead. Zombies surrounded the RV, circling it, looking for the best way to get in. They started to rock the RV from side to side, once again making the boys grab the nearest object to keep them upright.

"Matt! Get us out of here!" Swagger yelled from the door way of the bedroom, gripping both sides of the door frame. Matt turned around in his seat and stepped on the gas, gunning it through the group of zombies surrounding the RV.

"Keep going!" JC yelled from the back, lookng out of the back window to see the zombies that didn't get run over running after them.

The boys were back on the road, still on their way to Mansfield. They had left that small town behind, but that doesn't mean they forgot about it. Jay was still in shock about the man being ripped apart. Everyone else seemed to move on, and went back to lounging around the RV.

Racc and JC were napping on the bed in the back. Matt was passed out in the passenger seat. Jay was on the couch with his knees hugged against his chest, eyes glazed as he was lost in thought. And Mason was sprawled out on the floor, putting twizzlers up his nose.

"Hey, hey Jay. Look." Mason turned his head to Jay, his voice sounding weird with the twizzlers shoved up his nose. Jay chuckled at his friend's dumb behavior. "Ha, made you laugh." Mason took a twizzler out of his nose and took a bite.

"Ew. You're so gross." Jay laughed, a smile stretching across his face.

Everything went back to normal for the rest of the trip, or as close to normal as things can get or them.

The RV pulled into a driveway of a decent sized house.

"Hey, everyone wake up. We're here." Swagger called, standing up and stretching after turning off the vehicle. They left the RV after checking their surroundings, making sure there were no zombies around.

Swagger walked up and knocked on the door. There was silence from the other side.

"Hey, look." Racc pointed to the widnow by the front door. The curtains had moved, and the door opened right after Racc pointed out the window.

"Wassup guys. Good to see you made it." Kryoz spoke with a small smile as he looked over all the boys tired faces. "Come on in. Kick off your shoes, just don't destroy shit."

The boys followed Kryoz inside, grabbing their snacks from the RV and settling into the house.

"Hey Kryoz, does your computer work?" Racc asked, twiddling his thumbs, worry etched into his face.

"Yeah. That's how I messaged you guys. You need it?" He replied, giving Racc an uniterested look.

"Um yeah, can I use it? I need to message someone on discord." Racc finally looked up at Kryoz, his nervousness obvious on his face.

"Go ahead." Kryoz motioned to the hallway leading to his room. Racc practically jumped out of his seat, quickly walking to Kryoz's computer.

"Why is he so eager?" Kryoz asked the rest of the boys, confused by Racc's behavior. JC sighed, relaxing into the couch.

"He's worried about Carson." He said simply, taking off his shoes and relaxing back into his seat. Kryoz made an 'oh' face, understanding now why he was so worried.

"Hey guys!" Swagger called excitedly, getting everyone's attention. "Toby and Fitz made it to America, they said they landed at the airport Dallas. I told them to stay put, we'll come to them." Swagger announced.

"Fitz is here?" Mason asked, his eyes lighting up, instantly getting excited hearing he'll see his "dad". "I wanna go pick him up." He volunteered excitedly, jumping up off the ground.

"Alright. Me and Mason will go get them." Swagger announced. Both him and Mason climbed back into the RV to pick up the boys. "This is gonna be quite the trip, a few more hours so buckle up." Swags told the younger man, who put on his seat belt and sat in his seat obediently, excited to see Fitz and Toby. But his excitement and obedience quickly wore off, because after just about 30 minutes, Mason got bored, and climbed out of his seat to find something to do. He started opening the cupboards, looking for nothing imparticular, just something.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Swagger asked, glancing over his shoulder quickly.

"I'm bored cunt. I want something to DO." Mason whined, closing a cupboard and letting his upper body go slack, hanging on the handles.

"Well can you sit down? The 'click' of the doors opening and closing is annoying." He grumbled, growing tired of being alone with Mason already.

"But I'm bored!" Mason whined again, opening another cupboard.

"MASON SIT YOUR ASS DOWN NOW BEFORE I FUCKING COM BACK THERE!" Swagger screamed, his face turning red. Mason immediately stopped moving, frozen in place by his friends outburst. The genuine, unbridled anger and frustration in Swagger's voice scared him.

Mason didn't say anything, he gave one look to Swags, who glanced back at Mason, seeing him standing there, scared. He quickly and quietly turned away, going to the back room without another word, and closing the door behind him. Mason curled up on the bed, laying on his side and looking straight ahead at the wall. He wishes he had stayed home. Swagger had never yelled like that before, and it scared him that in that moment, he was able to unleash that anger so easily.

Mason stayed in the back room, curled up with his knees hugged to his chest until they reached the Dallas airport.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

"Mason, we're here buddy. Let's get out and get those losers." Swagger's voice was a bit gentler than normal, trying to calm Mason down and make him seems friendly again. Mason only pushed himself off the bed because he would get to see Fitz again. Mason didn't say anything as he opened the door an brushed past Swagger, still not wanting to talk to the shorter man.

The two wandered into the airport to look for them. It wasn't long before Mason stopped Swagger in his tracks. He looked around, and excited look on his face as he listened. There were voices in the distance, and they sounded distinctly like Toby and Fitz's voices.

Mason took off in the direction of the voices.

"Cam! Cam!" Mason yelled, running closer. He found them in a food court. Toby and Fitz turned to face the screaming boy, who was still running at them. Mason didn't slow down, jumping chairs and tables before nearly tackling Fitz to the ground.

"Woah buddy. Calm yourself. I'm hear, it's good." Fitz comforted Mason, wrapping his long arms around his shoulders. Mason's grip on Fitz tightened.

Swagger jogged into the food court, out of breath from running after Mason. He panted, standing up and putting his hands on his hips, his face contorted in disomfort. Swagger went to said something, but instead of words he wheezed. He took a few deep breaths before trying to speak again.

"Good to see you guys." Swagger was still out of breath, but he set down his STOP sign and giving Fitz a hug. Fitz had just managed to get Mason off of him, who gave Toby a hug too.

Swagger wrapped his arms around Fitz's waist, revealing in his scent and comforting presence. He rested his head of Fitz's chest for a second, before pulling away and looking up at the taller man.

"It's good to see you here." There was relief in his voice.

"I'm glad we made it here." Fitz replied, looking down at Swagger. They maintained eye contact, and didn't pull away from the hug immediately. Swagger pulled Fitz back to him, tightening his grip around the taller man's waist. A little blush dusted Fitz's cheeks from the attention Swagger was giving him.

"Alright love birds. Let's get to Kryoz's house before we get stuck in here for the night." Toby spoke up, breaking the two apart from their little reunion. They walked back to the RV, Mason filling them in on everything that's happened so far.

As soon as they entered the RV, Toby and Fitz made a B line for the bedroom to take a quick nap. After flying for 18 hours, they were exhausted, and ready for food. The two New Zealanders laid down on the bed and knocked the fuck out for the small journey back home.

When Toby and Fitz walked through the door, they were mobbed with hugs, taking them to the ground, as they didn't see them coming.

"Fucking hell cunts. Can we get some sleep before you mob us?" Fitz asked tiredly, a hint of annoyance in his voice, but he couldn't blame them.

"Yeah, sorry man. Here." Matt offered his hand to Fitz, while Jay offered his to Toby and they both helped them up.

Kryoz sat in the corner of the living room, watching the whole exchange happen.

Toby simply waved at the blond in the corner, too tired for words. Kryoz gave an awkward wave back before messing his one of his rings on his fingers.

Both Toby and Fitz settled down in the guest room. The rest of the boys spent the rest of the day relaxing and messing around, having a bit of fun in this bleak time that is the end of the world.

(I felt real proud of this chapter. I really hope you enjoy this one, and stay tuned for more to come)

@get-raccdd @imjustmelving

[polandspringz]

if you still wanna talk about them, i’d love to hear your ozpin headcanons!

I ALWAYS WANT TO TALK ABOUT OZPIN DON’T YOU WORRY

(This may or may not be inter spaced with short sentences that are “fan-fic” esque in style if I get inspiration while writing a headcanon. IDK if that’s annoying or makes the reading more fun, but whatever-)

-Ozpin is actually a very emotional person. The parts of Ozma’s soul that have fused with his own may have been hardened somewhat by time and experience, but I’ve always seen Ozpin as a headmaster as a very caring and soft person. Sure, he manages to remain calm and levelheaded, but that doesn’t mean in private he’s not on the verge of breaking, especially when he’s thinking about how much he’s hiding or the childhoods he has ruined.

The mug was gently set down atop the desk, not a sound from it as it was laid to rest, before Ozpin stumbled. His knees gave out, and his body doubled over, his arms barely supporting him as he sprawled across the surface of it. He was shaking, the thought passed through him as he managed to pinch off his glasses, pressing a sweaty palm against his face as he let out a muffled scream. His hand brushed up through his silver bangs, and his eyes stung as exhaustion took over. He slumped to the floor. 

He had changed his vote, had given in to Glynda and the rest of his friends. Yes, they were his friends, he told himself, you gathered them so they could give you advice in this lifetime. They know what’s best. 

He struggled to reason with himself even as the other part of him screamed out. He knew he had just signed Miss Nikos’ death warrant. 

-Based on how Ozpin talks to Oscar about them merging at first, I imagine that the young Ozpin was likely just as frightened when he woke up to another voice in his head filling it with all these notions of destiny and legends and such, but I also imagine that he was also one of the most quickly swayed to the task. Since Ozpin became a headmaster at such a young age, and that World of Remnant detail hinted at his aura being immense, I think once young Ozpin got over the shock of everything, he was just like “ALRIGHT LETS GO LETS GO” and with the help of all the caffeine he could absorb and not die, he just blazed his way through training to the point that he didn’t even need a team. He likely had one, but I doubt he was close to them or was able to make many friendships when he had such big goals and was likely a target for jealousy.

“Hey, Oz!” one of his teammates called back as she stepped out the door, “We’re going out to sight-see before the tournament tomorrow. Want to come?”

He turned around at the small desk of their temporary dorm. He smiled at the boy, but shook his head, “Unfortunately I think I will be staying in tonight. I want to do my best in the first round.”

The boy’s face fell, although it was not smiling in the first place, “You mean our best.”

Ozpin fumbled, “Oh, ah, yes, of course. I’m sorry about that. I misspoke.”

“No, it’s fine,” the boy grumbled closing the door, eyes now narrowed into a glare as he turned to burn a hole into the carpet of the hallway, “We all know you’ll be the one to make it to the finals anyway.”

The door closed and subsequent grumblings could be heard as the boy met up with others. Loudly as they stormed down the hall, Ozpin tried his best to ignore the complaints and insults laced with his name. Ozma took over, and their hands deftly picked up the Long Memory and began to tinker with the gears inside the hilt.

“Maybe it is in our best interest to let one of them advance instead,” Ozma said, “Salem does not yet know that I am here. A low profile perhaps-”

Had anyone been looking through the window, they would have seen a green flash of light as Ozpin took over again, only the tiniest stillness in the hands before they got back to work piecing the old weapon together some more. 

“Perhaps, but it is also in our best interest that I become a headmaster as quickly as possible. You may have founded the schools, but you are right in that we cannot leave the relics alone for too long. It has already been, what did you say, ten years since your last life? The headmaster of Shade is new. We should make sure he wasn’t told too much and doesn’t plan to do too much without us.”

He reached for a gear sitting on the desk. Ozma whispered to him as his fingers hovered above it.

“It would do you some good to make some allies, Ozpin.”

“I will in due time, my friend, but as I’m sure you know more than I, trust with a task as momentous as this, must be earned. If  I am to have allies, they will have to come to me first. If they are not deterred by our secrecy and our coldness, then I will know we can tell them some.”

“You’ve been looking into my memories, haven’t you?”

“They’re our memories, now, aren’t they?” Ozpin smiled, holding the screwdriver up as he gestured to the air, “But yes, I did see a few. And frankly, I don’t want to give so much away that I die at the hands of one of her henchmen so horrifically like the last two times-”

“Ozpin, I-”

“Do not be offended, my friend. Now, focus your mind elsewhere. I will need either your hands or the memories they hold to help guide me if we want to be able to compete tomorrow,” he said, placing one of the gears back inside the weapon.

He was lucky his past self had made it so durable. The amount of times his teammates had tried to shatter it only jostled a few things loose.

-I might have just contradicted myself in those two headcanons, but I think it’s fairly obvious Ozpin puts up a front, and I believe that could apply to even himself. This may be me projecting a bit, but Ozpin probably is the type of person who will be the most mature in the room when he needs to be. If there is someone else there capable of acting and taking more responsibility for things, he will be looser and less serious. This is probably more canon when you look at how he reacts when Glynda reprimands the teams for the food fights, but it could come from him having to grow up too fast once the merge happened.

-Even though Summer’s mission may not be tied to Ozpin, or at least he doesn’t know that it was tied to him or Salem, I like to think that in the same way that Ozpin feels guilt when he sees Hazel, when he sees Ruby he feels guilt about Summer.

-Out of everyone in Ozpin’s inner circle, it is not Qrow or Glynda, but James who is his favorite. This isn’t any shipper part of me, but that I just imagine that James was probably the strongest person for Ozpin to rely on, and while he probably reassured Ozpin hundreds of times that he had the military might to end Salem once and for all and Ozpin shrugged him off, he appreciated the sentiment and the toughness the man offered him. While Qrow was his spy, Ironwood (although he is based on the character longing for a heart), was the most caring and understanding of Ozpin’s pain. Qrow may have taken stride in feeling like he knew the most out of everyone in the circle about Oz’s past, but Ironwood didn’t need more information, he didn’t need the full story. He seems very perceptive, and probably knew all along that Ozpin wasn’t telling the full truth but kept his distance, and that probably spoke volumes to Oz. Which is why it hurts him so much to see the man on the verge of a breakdown now that he is gone and Oscar is the only key between them.

-When he first woke up inside Oscar’s body, I think Ozpin spent the first few weeks in silence, trying to cope with the fact that he had died again. Although Leo and everyone says that Ozpin had never reincarnated that fast before, I imagine he reincarnates instantly but the time it takes for him to gain status and the recognition again varies. If the team was already on the road a few months by that point and Oscar just had to hop on a train to get to Haven Academy, then I imagine the first weeks or months Ozpin was silently watching and trying not to break down and let himself be known as he saw the news through Oscar’s eyes, as Pyrrha Nikos was honored with a statue in Argus, as casualties were reported, the repeated film footage of Glynda struggling to rebuild the city. Oscar, during this time, was starting to have dreams of past events, and maybe the thing that alerted him the most to something being amiss with himself was a dreamed himself dying, but he could barely remember these dreams when he woke up, just the feelings remained. It wasn’t until he had a dream of a mysterious man reaching out towards him, calling his name, that he remembered it upon waking.