#this movie is so insanely gorgeous that sometimes my brain stops working | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

baekhvuns · 2 years ago

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Omg I forgot about the Coutinho thing. And, Asensio in Arsenal perhaps? Ancelotti GET IN THE BIN OLD MAN🔪

I'm choosing number 8 (Kovacic you're out) definitely not 9 since it's a cursed number there skisjavavwajjsjs. France in shambles, but maybe they'll allow some younger good players now... but yeah, it's wild. Omg the video you sent, what was the referee thinking... but ngl the way they all jumped each other looked funny as fuck

I like to think all the scums that got out will eventually join Prison League, but if they start playing like nothing happened 🔫🔫🔫🔫

I always torture myself by looking at food I cannot eat </3 Ateez are literally running away from me, I'm going to their country while they're going to my continent. What if we pass each other at the airport and I convince them I'm their new translator and go with them???

Ah got it, I understand the "pressure" of writing for someone else and wanting to try something different. But in the end people should write what they truly want and your heart is clearly with another guy... 😌 Jokes aside, hope you're not too stressed over it!

You forgot the name?! You're welcome then! Once in a while my brain remembers the song and goes "It's my scene, my scene, you know what I mean, It's my scene my scene" so I could never forget 😭

Most of the accents in Skins weren't really posh, but realistic! When you look at the cast of Skins it's mad, cause many of them went on to have big careers, Nicholas Hoult, Dev Patel, Kaya Scodelario, Daniel Kaluuya, Joe Cole (Peaky Blinders), some were on Game of Thrones too. Eh my accent is 📈📉📈 sometimes I sound Australian for no reason lmao, but it's somewhat Br'i'sh most of the time. Ooof what happened in the Ryan movie?

Well Dohwa is in high school, so it has to be Tasir, and he has money too </3 but Dohwa I wish you the best, the recent chapters were full of him, it's not good for my heart.....

Not Fake Love 😭 ok will do, but you need to stop leaving me blue balled for that villain fic!!!

Hwa is simply a beautiful and delicate Y/N that's why he needs no hand cream. And he dared to say his skin isn't that good, bro even with eczema it's much better than mine 💀

LUNA is taken but maybe LUUNA could work. Please keep them away from SM 🙃 but at least SM might pay them...

Literally they added Lookass to SuperM for the looks (that's objective) and entertainment, but other members are funny too, so whatever. Then gave him one line, cause he probably couldn't do more, put him in the back during dance breaks and that's it ajshkaisiqkqnanahaha

I saw something about Seok Matthew, right he's 🇨🇦! Oooh your mutual knows him? Wdym you're surprised he made it alive X.X. It made me sad when Hui said he wanted to feel validated, bestie you're good, you write for your group and other people :(

That MinSanHwa video is so cringe I can't stand them lmao, just creating their own AUs. But Seonghwa's nose scrunch and the boss walk, okaaaaay, mafia Hwa?

I played Un Village 15 times yesterday in order to celebrate Baekhyun's release!

Stunning, gorgeous, wonderful, main character

I've always felt some type of way about DF Hwa...

Oh...

🤧🤧🤧🤧 and massive brains

Btw do you know Tamino? I'm seeing him before I fly away to SK. I once had an insane dream of Hwa covering Tummy, so there's that 🙄 he also has a song called Habibi 👀

Random, but a few days ago I realised I forgot what your name was, cause to me it's Baek(sussy), but as I was watching T**n W*lf the movie and bitched about them ditching an important character named Kira, I REALISED! And this you? 🥑 mother Baek - DV 💖

hello!!

Omg I forgot about the Coutinho thing. And, Asensio in Arsenal perhaps? Ancelotti GET IN THE BIN OLD MAN🔪 //// I'm choosing number 8 (Kovacic you're out) definitely not 9 since it's a cursed number there skisjavavwajjsjs. France in shambles, but maybe they'll allow some younger good players now... but yeah, it's wild. Omg the video you sent, what was the referee thinking... but ngl the way they all jumped each other looked funny as fuck

these transfers are so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 with now man city getting charged for fraud 😭😭😭 ITS SO HILARIOUS FJWKFHWKHD

ANCELOTTI NEED TO GET OUT UR RIGHT FBDB RM DROPPING 8 POINTS LMFAOOO 😭😭😭 no bc france is nastily in shambles,,, i can’t believe they’re actually saying this now about their player??? u expect him to respect the fans after they did this?? and call it attitude?? BRO?? NO FBWMDBWM THE BRO FOT A STRAIGHT RED CARD AND WHEN HE JUST HELD HIS COLLAR 😭😭 antony was YEETED,, football fights are so fun, the netherlands v argentina still hasn’t been topped yet im afraid this one’s coming in close fbdbdb

???? 😭😭😭

I like to think all the scums that got out will eventually join Prison League, but if they start playing like nothing happened 🔫🔫🔫🔫 /// I always torture myself by looking at food I cannot eat </3 Ateez are literally running away from me, I'm going to their country while they're going to my continent. What if we pass each other at the airport and I convince them I'm their new translator and go with them???

the way if he starts at man utd again, im an arsenal fan immediately 🤚🏻 DO U SEE THOSE BENTO MAKING CHANNELS 😭😭😭 watching those 50 min full compilations of them <3 they announced the madrid fan sign 😭😭😭 BUT AT LEAST THERE HOLDING A VALENTINES EVENT OM FEB 13th!! SNATCH ALL THE HWA THINGS THERE omg if u pass by then on the airport i TELL THEJ TO STOP LYING AND DROP THEIR FUCKING COVERS,, BE THEIR TRANSLATOR FJDBDN

yEAAAH 😭😭 i didn’t exactly wanna try something else but i knew if i wrote another hwa it would be on sight 🔫 will never stop after this actually idc idc he brings my writing back <3 i just find it lazy to write for yunho and it’s reaching 50k fbwnbd so i guess it’s a win-win for everyone!!

You forgot the name?! You're welcome then! Once in a while my brain remembers the song and goes "It's my scene, my scene, you know what I mean, It's my scene my scene" so I could never forget 😭

I DID I SWEAR ANON EVER SINCE I MOVED TO CAN I HAVE BEEN YEARNING, SEARCHING LIKE A MADWOMAN LOOKING FOR THESE GAMES U UNLOCKED MY DECADE WORTH OF WISHES 😭😭😭😭😭

omg??? DEV PATEL??? HE??? oh 👁👁 ok but nicholas hoult is a very fine man 🤚🏻 the show must’ve been insane their career and movieoraphy lists are kinda insane??? xmen? sandcastle? 😯 AHHHHH SO BOTH MIX,, would u say u drink tea with ur pinky up? and say naur or nœr? do u also say peng and blud 😭😭

ryan’s movie was a soft pornno without being subtle <3 100/10 would never recommend

Well Dohwa is in high school, so it has to be Tasir, and he has money too </3 but Dohwa I wish you the best, the recent chapters were full of him, it's not good for my heart.....

FJWKDJWKHXXK AND IF U HAD TO CHOSE BETWEEN HE AND TASIR 🔫🔫

Not Fake Love 😭 ok will do, but you need to stop leaving me blue balled for that villain fic!!! //// Hwa is simply a beautiful and delicate Y/N that's why he needs no hand cream. And he dared to say his skin isn't that good, bro even with eczema it's much better than mine 💀

IM SAYING !!!! THAT ORCHESTRA VERSION OF IT IS SO DRAMATIC BUT SO PRETTY! IF NOT FAKE LOVE THEN I NEED U I WONT FOR LONG!! but this?? so ur saying, if boxer hwa gets his hands injured quite often the yn would gift him some flowery scented hand cream? got it.

LUNA is taken but maybe LUUNA could work. Please keep them away from SM 🙃 but at least SM might pay them...

😭😭😭 AT LEAST THEY GET THE MONEY JVCJCJCK

tbh mark baek and kai are so funny in the superm show and the other dude literally can easily be set to the side 😭😭 put him in the back during dance breaks fbwndhj i bet it pissed taemin and kai off when he’s out of sync or maybe he isn’t when they are around fbdbd

yes yes!! pretty close meeting thru groups! yeah see, his high school, there’s ALWAYS have some sort of police there, but he goes to a $$$ school with shitty ppl <3 if u look it up it’s just druugs and all dbdb there’s a few that are much worse def, one made it to the news last month for all the sad reasons 🔫 BESTIE YOURE MORE THWN GOOD UR AN INSANELY TALENTED VOCALIST PRODUCER WRITER 😭😭😭 hope he still gets all his royalties and cube doesn’t just take them,, but these two guys?? they’re so good! reminded me off nct actually

That MinSanHwa video is so cringe I can't stand them lmao, just creating their own AUs. But Seonghwa's nose scrunch and the boss walk, okaaaaay, mafia Hwa? //// I played Un Village 15 times yesterday in order to celebrate Baekhyun's release! /// Stunning, gorgeous, wonderful, main character //// I've always felt some type of way about DF Hwa...

LMFAOOOO THE “aye brothah!” 😭😭😭 theyre like guys from grade 12 acting tough fbfbfb OKAAAAY ITS MAFIA HWA!! def understand why yn in that au hated him, imagining what she must’ve dealt with in their high school days! BAEKHYUN HE LOOKS LIKE HES RIGHT OUT OF CANDY ERA 😭😭 AS U SHOULD !!!! can’t believe they’re all active for the first time together since 2018 😭😭 omg have u heard psycho by him? it’s very, very villain. very. VERY.

and taeyong’s already talking about him 😭😭 simp 😭😭

stop. i literally cannot believe kq hasn’t given hwa a fantasy kdrama cameo,,, he’d be insane he’s STUNNING 😭😭 their lore but with interstellar’s music on it?? chefs kisses

Oh... /// 🤧🤧🤧🤧 and massive brains /// Btw do you know Tamino? I'm seeing him before I fly away to SK. I once had an insane dream of Hwa covering Tummy, so there's that 🙄 he also has a song called Habibi 👀

giving my love reaction to habibi rn,,, omg…it’s like the bg of prince of egypt,, so subtly villainous— THOSE NOTES??? omg tummy is so aesthetically pleasing,, omg anon ur music taste?? the cinematic style of his is omg he’s like,,, the much better version of timothee,, indigo night??? ANON WHAT HAVE U DONE IM SO INTO THIS GET OUT WJFJAJDKW omg forget ateez! HE IS THE MOMENT HE IS ART!!! u don’t own me song?? omg his voice is so calming but so intense i have an obsession omg anon what have u done, tEARING UP HEARING FASCINATION FJJ HIWJFKW he’s so stunning get out. i disrespected him bt calling him a timothy, he is amir <3

LMFAOOO FBWMHDKW THE CENSOR 😭😭😭😭 YEAH HOW DARE THEY DITCH KIRA VRWKHDKW THAT IS ACTUALLY ME! you exposed me how dare u? 🔫

their car looks pretty sick 👀

HELP????? FBQMDHWMDJKW

😭😭😭

🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️do u perhaps agree with this

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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kar-krashew · 3 years ago

Text

my someplace is here [AO3]

Five times Alec gay panics at a bus stop (ft. umbrellas, jackets, and a bus driver who really isn't paid enough for this).

rated: T

for @rainyhuman and @peachygos (ily!)

This is so cliché and over the top and I have absolutely no regrets <3. Sometimes (always) Alec is a himbo who is in love and his actions reflect this entirely. I don't control these things.

One.

Alec Lightwood doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but the man across the bus stop is absolutely gorgeous, and he’s twirling in the rain like a goddamn movie cliché, and Alec’s first thought is holy shit, so maybe Alec Lightwood is an idiot, and love at first sight is definitely a Thing.

Alec’s second thought is that the man is an absolute maniac— because really, the dude doesn’t even have a coat on— but Alec’s the one with an insane urge to kiss a stranger in the middle of the street, so, whatever; They’re probably both maniacs.

Alec’s third thought is that he’s about to miss his bus. Shit.

—

Two.

For the record, Alec does not usually walk into bus stop poles while staring at his phone, nor does he usually yell out “Ow, shit — !” if the aforementioned event does happen to occur. He does, however, end up doing both of these things at once a week later, and the stifled laughter behind him informs him that someone at the stop has definitely seen him, and he’s never going to live this down, ever.

“I’ve personally found that walking around an obstacle tends to be much more effective, darling,” the someone says, and Alec supposes that was called for, but hey, rude. He looks up to face the speaker, preparing himself to be offended, and—

Oh.

It’s the beautiful stranger from last time.

The man smirks at him from the bench, drenched again, and God, he’s even prettier up close. Brown eyes, smudged eyeliner, water trickling down his neck, with a tunic open down to his navel and pants that look painted on— Alec’s brain is short-circuiting.

“Hit your head a little hard there? Or do you just see something you like?”

“Huh?” Alec glances up from where he’s been staring at the man’s collarbones.

“I asked if you saw something you liked, pretty boy,” the man repeats.

Alec opens his mouth, presumably to say something that would be considered appropriate and normal in this situation, but he somehow misses his own memo and instead stammers out: “I, uh, I have an umbrella.”

He prays the rain will have mercy and just drown him on the spot.

The man’s brow quirks upwards in amusement. “Excuse me?”

Alec, unfortunately, is still alive, so he must now suffer the embarrassment he’s managed to cause himself and find a way to explain whatever has just come out of his mouth. He ducks his head, trying to avoid eye contact as he speaks. “If you want it,” he elaborates, “I have an umbrella I can give you.”

The stranger just looks at him for a moment. Alec’s sure he’s going to be told to fuck off (which would be a perfectly understandable reaction and probably have been his own in this situation) but after another second, the man defies all of his expectations and grins, so wide that it steals a little of Alec’s breath away.

“Handsome and chivalrous, I see. Do you make a habit of offering your belongings to strangers?” the guy asks. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll need it later. Perhaps you should rescind your offer, I promise I won’t harbor any grudges.”

“I have a coat,” Alec insists, “and you’re. . .” —incredibly attractive, doing things to my brain function— “more in need of its services.”

He’s not really sure why he’s so adamant about this, especially since the man is right: he will be needing the umbrella later, but his pride’s involved now, and he hasn’t really been thinking things through for the past ten minutes anyway. He might as well argue about his dumb umbrella with a beautiful man at a bus stop.

“I suppose you’re right,” comes the man’s response. He taps painted nails against his chin as he hums. “I’m not in much of a position to refuse, now, am I? Though, I doubt I’d refuse any position with you involved,” he winks. “But, yes, if you’re being serious, I shall gladly accept your umbrella.”

Alec blinks. He honestly did not think that argument would’ve worked. (He chooses to ignore the blatant innuendo to preserve his sanity for now.)

“Well?” the man prompts.

“Oh! Yeah, sure.” Really, the whole zoning-out-while-staring-at-the-hot-guy thing is going to become a problem very fast if Alec keeps doing it every two minutes. He gathers his thoughts enough to fumble with the umbrella in his hand and give it to the man, who accepts it with a graceful flourish.

“I’m Magnus Bane, by the way,” the man offers. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“I’m Alec. Lightwood. My name’s Alec Lightwood.”

Magnus holds out a ring-covered hand from where he’s sitting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alec. Short for Alexander, I presume?”

“Yeah,” Alec nods. He reaches out to shake Magnus’s hand, adding, “but no one really calls me that.”

Magnus’s smile turns into something incredibly flirty, and Alec can feel his cheeks heating up. “I like to be special, Alexander,” the other says, “and it suits you far better.”

Alec’s not really sure how to respond to that, because the way Magnus says his name is doing things to him, and that, combined with the fact that he’s still clutching Magnus’s soft hand in his own, is probably going to give him a heart attack. He’s about to say something decidedly stupid about Magnus already being special and perfect and amazing when the bus saves him from humiliation and pulls up next to them.

Alec releases Magnus’s grip to awkwardly gesture at the vehicle. “I should really. . . you know,” he trails off, and Magnus blinks at him for a second, surprised.

“Oh, right! You should get going, places to be and all that.” He waves his hand through the air dismissively. “I’ll return your umbrella to you next week, same time?”

Alec smiles dopily as he nods. “That sounds great.” He takes a step back. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Of course.” Magnus gives him a little wave. “It was lovely to meet you, Alexander. Safe travels.”

“Thanks, uh, you too.”

Having to walk home in the rain is so worth it.

—

Three.

Izzy laughs at Alec for the entire week when she finds out why his umbrella’s been missing, then makes it worse by telling Jace, who gives Alec an incredibly long-winded speech about umbrellas as metaphors for protection during sex or something. He also deigns to throw a condom at Alec’s face when he leaves to get the bus, which sends Izzy into another bout of cackling laughter.

They’re both assholes, and Alec is never going to cover for them at family dinners ever again.

So he’s scrolling through his phone at the bus stop, trying his best to ignore the increasingly obscene texts his siblings are sending him, when Magnus shows up, bright and beaming and decidedly dry this time, though he’s still not wearing a jacket despite the cold.

And dear lord. If Alec thought Magnus looked gorgeous while soaked in rainwater, this is something else entirely. Gold-streaked hair, unbuttoned shirt, immaculate matching eyeshadow— fuck.

“Alexander!” Magnus greets. He sits down beside Alec on the bench, and grins as he hands over Alec’s umbrella. “Finally a little dry, hm? Though I might’ve underestimated the cold and left my coat back home.”

“Yeah,” Alec says. “Not that you were wearing one when it was raining.” He’s trying his best not to stare at Magnus’s mouth, but the man is very close to Alec’s face right now, and he cannot be blamed if his gaze slips a few times, okay? He’s only human.

Magnus shrugs, drawing Alec’s sight to his shoulders instead. “Coats are irrelevant, anyway. I haven’t worn mine all week, so I might as well continue the trend,” he remarks, and Alec snorts.

“I don’t think that’s as impressive as you think it is. You sound like a petulant toddler. How have you not had, like, five colds by now?” he says. Magnus feigns a pout in response, and Alec stifles a laugh.

“Such cruelty, Alexander!” Magnus replies, “Ah, I suppose I’ll just have to suffer the elements until I’m finally back home again, since no one seems to harbor any sympathy for me. Woe is me, and all that.” He tightens his hands around his biceps, rubbing up and down to warm himself up while sighing dramatically, and Alec, well,

Alec gets a really stupid idea.

“Do you want my jacket?” he asks. “I won’t be out in the cold for that long, and I’m wearing a much warmer shirt than you are.”

Magnus’s lips part in surprise as something conflicted flashes behind his eyes. “I—” he starts, then clears his throat. “I wasn’t being serious, darling. That’s your jacket.”

“Is that a no?”

There’s a moment of silence before Magnus shakes his head. “No, it’s not. I, uh, I’d love that.”

Alec beams, and Magnus clears his throat again. “You’re horribly trusting of someone you’ve only met twice,” he says, voice a little strangled, but Alec just shrugs as he begins to wrestle the black fabric off of his shoulders.

“It’s just a jacket,” he explains, leaning closer to drape it over Magnus, “Even if I never got it back, at least you wouldn’t freeze to death on your way to wherever you’re headed.” He fixes the lapels dutifully, and smiles to himself. “Besides, you’ve already given me my umbrella. I trust you.”

“Is that so,” Magnus answers weakly, which prompts Alec to look up from his fiddling, and oh wow, their mouths are so close to each other’s.

If Magnus inches in just a little bit closer, then they’d—

They’d—

“Um!” Alec jerks backwards, face flushing, “Yes, uh,” he stammers, trying not to look overwhelmed. It’s not going great, because moving back means that he’s now being treated to the sight of Magnus in Alec’s jacket, and he’s having some issues thinking properly right now. It swallows Magnus’s wrists almost entirely and looks far too plain for his expensive printed shirt, but fuck. It’s possible that Alec didn’t think this through.

Magnus opens his mouth, hopefully to tell Alec to kiss him but also probably to tell him to fuck completely off for whatever move they almost pulled, but the bus suddenly turns the corner and pulls into view, cutting him off.

Alec’s not sure whether he’s relieved or furious about this.

“Next week, then,” he ventures. Magnus blinks at him slowly, then nods.

“Yes, of course,” he smiles softly. “Next week.”

—

Four.

“Remind me again, why your presence is necessary today?” Alec grits through his teeth, tightly gripping his umbrella as the rain pours down on them. Izzy punches his arm, not even looking up from her phone as she does so, where she is no doubt giving Jace a play-by-play of Alec’s every action as they walk towards the bus stop.

“Because I’m never one to miss out on good blackmail content,” she replies, which is true. She’s got about four folder’s worth of content of “embarrassing shit Alec has done” on her phone, most of it consisting of his painful attempts at being straight in high school, and Alec’s pretty sure she’s started a fifth, probably titled “Alec’s horrible attempts at flirting with men,” which isn’t that much better than the straight one. Alec is debating turning around and just walking to his destination so that his sister won’t be able to gain more content for her virtual blackmail folders, which is exactly when Magnus comes into Alec’s field of vision.

Alec freezes in his tracks. Holy shit.

Magnus is standing in the center of the street again, drenched from head to toe with his head thrown back . The streetlights illuminate him from above, highlighting the curve of his neck and the colored streaks in his hair as he laughs to himself, staring up at the stars.

He looks ethereal. Alec’s never been one for the romantics, but he’s pretty sure this is what poets mean when they talk about true love and angels and immortal moments in time.

“Oh, he’s hot,” Izzy whispers approvingly. Alec agrees, because, obviously, but he pretends he’s unaffected and straightens his face.

“He’s probably freezing,” he says instead. Izzy rolls her eyes— she gets that from him, he really should stop doing that— and then, before Alec can stop her, calls out.

“Hey! Hot Umbrella Guy!”

What the fuck.

“Are you insane?” Alec hisses. He was trying to look nonchalant and not like the totally lovestruck idiot he is, but now Izzy is waving at Magnus like a maniac and Magnus has noticed them and is walking towards them and Alec is going to die. He’s going to write Izzy out of his will and then he is going to collapse into a heap of embarrassment and gay panic right here, and it’s going to be his sister’s fault.

“Relax a little, hermano,” Izzy replies, and before Alec can provide her with an alphabetized list for every reason he cannot relax, Magnus is already standing before them, smiling as water trickles from his hair.

God, he’s beautiful.

“Hello, hello!” he greets. Alec suddenly notices that Magnus is wearing Alec’s jacket, which is, well. Something. (Izzy is never going to let him live this down, and also Alec is having a very hard time thinking any thoughts.)

Magnus seems to notice Alec’s wandering line of sight, following it and glancing down, eyes widening. “Oh my god, I was fully intending to return this to you, I’m so sorry. I got a little distracted. I’ll have it cleaned and returned to you next time, I promise,” he explains. Alec shakes his head.

“No worries,” he manages, cutting himself off before he says something even stupider like “it’s yours forever” or “marry me” or something, and Izzy snorts from beside him. Alec hates her.

“Thank you,” Magnus says, then turns to face Izzy, “And what may I call you, dear?”

“I like him,” Izzy declares, in what Alec assumes is meant to be a reassuring whisper but instead ends up being incredibly loud, “I’m Izzy, Alec’s sister. And I assume you’re the elusive Magnus I’ve heard so much about?”

“Izzy,” Alec warns. Magnus smirks and shakes her hand.

“The one and only,” he confirms. There’s a mischievous sort of glint in his eye as he glances back up at Alec, and Alec’s not sure how he feels about Magnus and his sister already getting along so well, but he’s sure it can’t lead anywhere good.

“Well, Isabelle,” Magnus says, “If I asked him, do you think your brother would join me for a dance?”

Alec chokes. “What?” he splutters. Magnus turns his grin to face him.

“If I asked, Alexander, would you join me for a dance?”

“I—” Alec starts, staring down at the hand Magnus has outstretched in front of him. There are so many reasons he should say no, and so many reasons this is a bad idea, but also the most beautiful man Alec has ever seen is holding his hand out for him to take, and what else is he supposed to do? “Yeah,” he says. “Sure.”

The first thing Alec notices is how soft Magnus’s hand is in his as he pulls him out into the rain, laughing as it hits his face again, and Alec can’t help but laugh along even as water soaks into his shoes and drenches into his socks. There’s something so childish about it; giggling and spinning in an empty street without any music, holding hands like toddlers, and Alec wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You’re thinking too much,” Magnus murmurs, then he tilts his head back and closes his eyes. “It’s about being in the moment.”

Alec smiles. If only he knew, all he’s thinking about is this moment: how the water catches in Magnus’s lashes, how he’s humming something entirely off-key under his breath, the way he presses against Alec’s chest. Fuck. Alec’s known this man for three days, and he’s halfway in love already.

He closes his eyes against the rain, too, and smiles at the thought: loving a man like Magnus Bane.

Yeah, he could get used to that.

—

Five.

When Alec reaches the bus stop today, Magnus is nowhere to be seen and Alec’s jacket is sitting in a bag at the bus stop with a little post it signed with the letter “M.”

It’s fine, Alec tells himself. Magnus is probably just busy with something else, and this has nothing to do with the fact that Alec froze up awkwardly when Magnus kissed him on the cheek last week, to the point where Magnus had to nervously laugh it off because Alec was too busy panicking.

It’s a flimsy argument, but it keeps Alec from losing his mind for about fifteen minutes until the bus pulls up early and Alec realizes that this is it. He’s not going to see Magnus this week— maybe not ever again, if Magnus has decided that Alec’s gay panic is not worth his time, and Alec wouldn’t even blame him.

God, he feels so stupid. If he hadn’t acted like a complete idiot last time, then he would’ve at least had some closure.

“Sir, are you getting on or are you waiting for another bus?”

Alec blinks, glancing up to see the bus driver raising her eyebrow at him. “Right, sorry, give me just a mo—”

“Alec!”

It can’t be.

“Alexander!”

Alec spins on his heel, turning to face whoever called his name, and oh my god, it’s Magnus. He’s running up to the bus stop, waving frantically, and Alec is overcome with such a large wave of relief that he forgets that the bus driver’s been waiting for him for like five minutes now and he climbs off and runs towards Magnus, only vaguely registering the sound of the bus leaving without him. He doesn’t even care; Magnus is standing right in front of him, panting heavily but still so beautiful and perfect, and Alec would walk home everyday if he got to see Magnus because of it.

“Alexander,” Magnus huffs, gathering his breath. He absentmindedly reaches out to grab Alec’s shoulder, and Alec immediately wraps his arms around his waist to stabilize him. “Oh lord, one second, I ran all the way here.”

“I thought you were gone,” Alec says, still holding onto him. “You left the jacket and I thought—” he trails off.

Magnus frowns. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I thought I’d made you uncomfortable last week and didn’t want to make it worse, but I didn’t realize how rude not showing up would be. I know you probably don’t feel the same way but perhaps we can still be friends? I can be completely professional about it, though you seem to have just missed your bus—”

Alec grabs Magnus’s tunic (because he’s still not wearing a jacket, Jesus Christ) and kisses him.

Magnus blinks at him when they pull away. “Oh,” he says, a little breathless, and Alec smiles.

“I don’t want to be professional about it,” he admits.

“Oh. . .”

Magnus still seems shell-shocked, so Alec makes a move to let go of him, shifting his arm away from Magnus’s waist, but then Magnus leans back in and presses his mouth back to Alec’s and oh, nevermind then.

Alec’s not sure how long they spend there, kissing like handsy teenagers under the roof of the bus stop, but he’s aware of a few cars passing (and possibly another bus), so he’s not ignorant of the fact that it’s definitely been a while when they finally pull away for more than a second. Magnus is staring at his mouth when they part, though, which is not helping Alec’s resolve to actually have a conversation about this.

“We should talk,” he manages, and Magnus nods, still staring at his mouth.

“Right,” he agrees. “That would be a wise course of action.” His eyes flick upwards for just a moment, and something flickers behind them before he beams. “My place is two stops away, if you’d like to talk there. Perhaps we can wait for the next bus together, since we seemed to have missed the one I usually take? It might take a while, though.”

Ah. Alec swallows back a grin of his own. “Of course,” he replies, “I don’t suppose you know any way to keep us busy till then?”

“I’m sure I could think of something.”

(The bus comes late, and they still somehow almost miss it. Alec refuses to take any blame for this.)

—

+ One.

Alec Lightwood didn’t believe in love at first sight, but the man standing at the bus stop is smiling softly at him as he approaches, twirling an umbrella between his hands as he waits, and Alec’s first thought is holy shit, so maybe Alec Lightwood was an idiot, because what else could it have been?

“Hello, stranger,” the man says when Alec finally reaches the stop. He glances down, taking in Alec’s rain-soaked button down and slacks, and grins. “Forget your umbrella back home?”

Alec laughs. “My coat, too,” he agrees. “I got distracted this morning.”

Magnus hums, leaning in to kiss the rain off of Alec’s mouth, and Alec smiles into it, tasting the faint wax of lipstick and the salt of the rain. “Must’ve been a pretty good distraction.”

“Yeah,” Alec says. He leans in again, because he can. They have time. “He is.”

Magnus’s lips have got a lovely little tilt to them by the time they pull away, tint slightly smudged from Alec’s attention, and he’s never looked more beautiful, even with the dingy lighting of the shitty bus stop they’re standing under.

God, Alec loves him. He feels a little stupid with the feeling, and he can’t help but step back out onto the rain, holding out his hand.

“Hey,” he murmurs. Magnus’s eyes light up with understanding. “Care to join me for a dance?” And sure, Alec’s shit at dancing, and sure, they have to get on the bus sopping wet minutes later, but they’re both giggling like idiots and clutching the umbrella together between their intertwined hands and Alec’s got a little ring box in his pocket just waiting for the right moment, so what else matters?

They’ll probably have to invite the bus driver to the wedding, though. It’s only fair.

#my writing #malec #malec fic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #i totally forgot to post this here but its fineeeee #also if ur that anon that @'d me ab the phrase gay panic im literally gay <3 thank u

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beautyofattolia · 11 months ago

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incorrect avatar quotes (17/?)

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fanmoose12 · 3 years ago

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Hello would you mind writing vets as a music band? And that fans suspect the “normal” relationship of head vocal Levi and bassist Hange? Sorry if my english isn’t writing properly at all.

Mikasa invites him to a No Name concert.

And it's like- whatever, right? Who cares? Jean certainly doesn't.

So what if the girl of his dreams asks him out on a date? It's not like he has been daydreaming about it for the past two years. So what if she offers to see his favorite band in the whole world? He doesn't even like them much. Sure, he knows all their songs by heart but- he doesn't listen to them that often. Only twice or thrice each day. And it's not like his closet hides an insane amount of their merchandise. That is between Jean, his closet and his mother.

He isn't nervous, he doesn't care about the upcoming date. At all. Most certainly, he doesn't spend literal days, obsessing over his outfit. And he obviously doesn't pester Sasha and Connie with questions on how to style his hair.

Most importantly, he doesn't imagine how it would feel to hold Mikasa's hand or maybe even go for a hug or a kiss-

Jean tries not to think about it, his heart starts to beat to fast, when he does, but when he doesn't think about Mikasa, he starts thinking about No Name and the little, tinie tiny fact that he's going to see them in person. That he's going to meet them and maybe even shake their hand, because Mikasa being the gorgeous goddess she is, got them tickets with access to a backstage. It didn't require any kind of effort from her side, since the famed, spectacularly, dreamy Levi Ackerman is Mikasa's cousin, but- Jean doesn't remember sharing his No Name obsession with Mikasa, for obvious reasons - he doesn't want to think that he likes her just because she's Levi Ackerman's cousin, Mikasa is great not because she's an Ackerman, but because she's Mikasa, but- but Jean is so, so grateful that he'll have the chance to see No Name in all their glory.

Of course, he is not at all nervous about meeting his favorite band in person. No, no, he doesn't lose sleep over it, his palms don't turn clammy. Sometimes he feels like he'll combust from anticipation, but he's fine, completely fine.

He just can't wait until that fated day will come.

---

When that day rolls around at last, Jean is cool. He's cool, calm, serene.

His hand is greasy from all the times he touched his slicked back hair, and he can't stop tugging at the sleeves of his leather jacket, but- but he's cool.

The band that is currently playing isn't that bad - not nearly as talented and awesome, and hot as No Name, but still good. The crowd is bigger than Jean is comfortable with, but today it works in his favor because it prompts Mikasa to hold his hand. Maybe, he'll get that kiss after all. If he continues keeping his cool.

That proves to be just a little harder task when Mikasa announces that they reached the backstage.

Jean can't help it - he gawks around helplessly.

This is it, this is a place where miracles happen, where stars lounge and rest.

This is the place where he'll meet No Name.

Jean can't imagine how this meeting will transpire. Will they like him? Will they agree to make a photo? Will they give him an autograph? Will they think that he's a weirdo who is too obsessed with their music?

All of the above? None of the above?

Jean doesn't know.

There are so many things he wants to say. There are so many things he wants to ask - how can they play with those bandages on? How do they never trip during performances? What is their favorite song to play? What do they do in their free time? What is their favorite food? Are the rumors about Levi Ackerman and Hange Zoe-

Okay, no, he probably shouldn't ask that last question, no matter how much he wants to know the answer. And he wants to, so, so much.

The thing is- there are many rumors about No Name. It's not surprising, they are young, famous and extremely hot. These rumors usually exclude the drummer, Mike Zacharias, who is already engaged with a very pretty blonde lady, their stylist. Although, there are some fans who speculate that the engagement is not true, and Mike actually dates their producer, one Erwin Smith, but- Jean usually ignores that type of fans, branding them as freaks.

Now, as far as everyone is aware, nor Levi Ackerman, neither Hange Zoe are involved in any kind of romantic relationships, and that's- that's where the juicy stuff begins.

There aren't many rumors about Hange - some say she's involved with Pieck, the band's make-up artist. Or their manager, Moblit Berner. Or an indie artist, Onyakopon. But that's where the list ends.

Levi Ackerman, however, oh he has a far longer list of lovers. Petra Ral, for example, a rising pop-star - young, talented and so pretty that it hurts. Or Erwin, although on that subject rumors wary - some say that Erwin is the one who got Levi in showbiz, some say that Erwin is his sugar daddy, some say that they're already engaged and even married. The rumors are as varied as they're wrong, in Jean's opinion. Most rumors about Levi are like that. There are even talks about his involvement with Yeager brothers - with the front man of the rival band, Zeke, and Jean's and Mikasa's classmate, Eren. Jean doesn't understand where these rumors even come from, as far as he's aware, Levi hates them both. But- but rumors still exist.

As stupid as they are.

Now, Jean has a different opinion, one that he spends nights defending in chats and forums. Yes, Levi Ackerman has a lover. And no, it's not Petra Ral, Erwin Smith or any of the Yeager brothers. It's Hange Zoe, No Name's bassist.

There are many reasons why he thinks so. Firstly, they are always together. And by always, Jean means always. In photoshoots they stand side by side, during performances they lean against each other, on all kinds of photos - from after-parties to official events, they always touch each other in some way. And that's not all. They spend their vacations together, they hang out at movies, restaurants, museums, their respective instagrams are full of the other's candid photos. And it's a known fact that they share an apartment. Honestly, how much more obvious it can get? Also Jean is pretty sure that one of the songs written by Levi is about Hange, and he has an entire essay, explaining why he's right. He prays to every saint known that Mikasa will never find it. He doesn't want his almost girlfriend to find out just how invested he is in the romantic life of her famous cousin.

As they walk further and further into the magical territory of the backstage, Jean tries to think of something cool to say, something laid-back and easy like 'hey, what's up, guys? I've listened to the couple of your songs, you're not that bad...'

Yes, he decides. That's a good way to start. A cool way to start.

And Jean is cool. And calm.

And- oh my god, there they are, the three of them, already in their costumes, just without the signature bandages. They look even cooler in person. They look even hotter and-

Mikasa squeezes his hand.

"If my asshole cousin says something awful, I'll punch him in the face for you."

God, that is so sweet. So Mikasa. He wouldn't be opposed to anyone getting a punch from her except- her gorgeous cousin. His pretty face should be protected at all costs.

However, as they approach, the face that charmed millions transforms, turning into a quite nasty scowl.

"So that's him?" Levi Ackerman asks (Jean's sick brain, even in that moment, can't help but note that Hange Zoe is standing right behind her band member, a hand laying on his shoulder). "That's the guy you're going crazy about?"

"Yes," Mikasa answers, and suddenly the air grows stiff. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The lines around Levi's mouth harden, and Jean tries to focus on Hange Zoe, while his mind prepares for something not at all pretty, but- Hange is smiling - not smirking, smiling. That is a good sign, right?

"Don't mind the Ackermans," she stage whispers to Jean. "Levi was actually very excited about meeting you."

Right now it's hard to imagine that dark (and still so handsome) face in the expression of excitement, but. Hange knows him a lot more, right?

"Oh and by the way," she giggles, and at the back of his mind Jean wonders if that's how angels sound like. "I'm Hange."

He almost blurts out 'I know' but- that'd be creepy? Or not? He can't decide so settles on a simple nod.

"Jean," he says, taking the offered hand in his. With his hand that isn't holding Mikasa's (they're holding hands, wow!), he shakes Hange's. It's unexpectedly calloused. But still warm and gentle. Not as nice as Mikasa's but... somewhere very close.

"And that is the one and only Levi Ackerman," Hange continues, gesturing to the man in question. "He only looks so scary. But actually," she winks and lowers her voice. "He's the biggest softie you'll ever meet."

The biggest softie Jean has ever met, practically snarls, baring his teeth. But the hand on his shoulder tightens and he instantly relaxes, scoffing in annoyance. Oh, so that's who Hange Zoe is? The one who tames the beast?

"You're not as revolting as her other dates," Levi says. Jean is pretty sure that it was meant as a compliment. "But if you dare to-"

"Oi," Mikasa's face becomes as stormy as her cousin's. "He won't."

"And even if he does," Hange smiles, so handsome and a little scary. "Mikasa knows what to do."

Jean gulps. He has seen Mikasa train that one time. He was very impressed, and a little bit scared. Also a lot aroused.

He knows with ironclad certainty that should Mikasa kick him... his face may not survive it.

"Hange, Levi," a gruff voice behind them calls. Jean lifts his eyes, mouth opening in shock as he sees him in the flash - the third member of Non Name, Mike Zacharius himself. In person... he is even more enormous than on photos. His shoulders are twice as wide as Jean's, and next to Hange and Levi, he looks almost like a giant. "We're starting in five."

"Oh!" Hange covers her mouth with a palm. "I haven't checked my guitar yet. Let's hurry, shorty!"

Hange dashes away instantly, Levi sighs and trudges after her. Mikasa tugs at Jean's hand as well, whispering that they need to go to their places.

Jean nods, absentmindedly, because right in that moment, at the other side of the room he sees Hange and Levi exchange a playful, quick but undeniably a kiss.

Triumph courses through him, firing him up. He knew that he was right, those fuckers from twitter can eat his shit.

Hange Zoe and Levi Ackerman are truly dating.

He wants to know more, wants to ask Mikasa to spare the juicy details, but for now-

For now, Jean has to take care of his date as well.

He interlaces their fingers, and, keeping Hange's words in mind - Ackermans are not as scary as they look - he leans in to press a kiss to Mikasa's cheek and whispers,

"You look fantastic."

Ever so slightly, but Mikasa blushes. It's the best moment of the evening so far.

And, hopefully, there will be more of that.

#levihan #jeankasa #i guess???

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kashimos-hajime · 4 years ago

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dear... whoever | b.b.

summary: a mandated series of long and short diary entries from the new head of R&D for Stark Industries.

WARNINGS: swearing, LOTS of fluff, mentions of drinking and sex and hospitals and guns, general fun and witty attitude, small angst, big jealousy, obviously au after civil war. everything after does not exist. pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 9.5k

a/n: written for @softbiker and 100% inspired by @sunmoonandbucky with the format. my prompt was let me love you by rita ora and i wrote it from the perspective the singer is singing it to rather than the actual singer. this was super fun to write. enjoy!

July 31/20

Dear…

Whoever is going to read this. So… me, in the future probably. So, it should be dear WHOMever, I think, but it sounds wrong.

Is it too cliché to say dear diary? I don’t know. After all, I don’t WANT to be writing this but unfortunately I am because it’s mandated. Apparently, the psychiatrist that works for Stark Industries thinks it’s necessary that I write down my feelings and show that I’ve adjusted to working part-time superhero, full-time head of Tony’s stupid R&D department.

Something about how that much stress can cause psychotic fractures in the worst case scenario.

Cute.

Anyway, I don’t know what to write. Currently, it’s 4:23AM. The only reason I’m awake is because I have trouble sleeping on the best night. I heard Barnes messing about and because I am the Hermit of the Rec Room Couch (catchy, I know), I can hear him just walking about.

What the hell is he even doing?

To be honest, I’ve never talked to Barnes besides the occasional greetings because he’s the sort to keep to himself, I guess, and, valid. I’m not saying it’s not, considering his history, but you know.

I think I’m a friendly person, and I’m bored. He’s eventually going to hear me writing noisily because of super-soldier hearing or whatever, so I might just get up and introduce myself.

Not that I’ve been working here for years, but whatever.

I’m really bored and hungry, honestly, so a trip to the kitchen would be considered normal (and warranted) in such circumstances.

Fuck it.

Time to make a new friend or die trying. If you never hear from me again, you’ll know why.

Aug. 1/20

Dear Jane,

I finally got the time to write in here and you may be wondering why I have named you. Well, after the conversation at roughly 4:30 AM, here are things that’ve changed in a disorganized list. None is more important than the other. I'm just writing what comes to my head.

One: Barnes said he doesn’t really let anyone call him James. I called him James once because I forgot. Profuse apologies followed. He said it was okay and didn’t mind me calling him that. Now, in my mind, I think he’s just saying this to be polite and really just wants me to call him Bucky but he seemed sincere. We’ll see how it goes.

Two: Barnes was awake because his cat woke him up. I didn’t even know he had a cat but it’s a gorgeous white cat named Alpine that Barnes carries around in his half-zipped up hoodies sometimes. It’s adorable. He’s super soft and friendly and I love him already. He showed me all the tricks Alpine could do. Amazing.

Three: Barnes’ favourite movie is the Godfather. Totally surprising there. Please tell me you understand sarcasm.

Four: He said he liked the name Jane when I told him what I was doing up and also in the rec room (couldn’t sleep, writing in my diary) and that I didn’t want to say “Dear diary”

“Why don’t you just give it a name?” he eloquently suggested and Jane was his answer to my question of “Which name?”

Five: Barnes, or James, I guess he is now, is my friend.

Six: We said we’d meet up at 4:30AM or earlier again because I told him I wanted to show him my s’mores dip recipe.

Seven: Wish me luck. Hope I don’t get murdered.

Eight: I think I might be in love with him.

Bye.

Aug. 5/20

Dear Jane,

In an effort to summarize what has happened in the past four days, I will open with the fact that James Buchana Barnes is the cutest motherfucker on the planet. He’s super old fashioned, but that’s a given. He opens the doors for me, offers to take my bags up, and in the past four days, we’ve met up at around midnight to just eat and chat. Then he walks me back to my room with a glass of water and I’m left fanning myself because it’s so sweet and he’s so sweet and OH, MY GOD, I am a child.

This feels like a crush. Like, butterflies in my stomach, self-conscious every time he looks at me, can’t stop staring, and wanting to impress him at every turn sort of crush.

AKA, a middle-school crush and I feel completely ridiculous but that is besides the point because he’s just the loveliest person.

Someone should tell him chivalry is dead. Steve thinks he’s just being sweet on me, and Sam says I should flash some ass just to get a rise out of him which would be funny. He’d look absolutely adorable blushing his head off.

We’ll see. I am considering it.

What else happened? I’m drawing a huge blank.

As explained in a previous entry, I was to show Barnes my s’mores dip recipe. Huge success. Crowd loved it. That’s how I learned he has a huge sweet tooth like me. Got an email from Pep about a board meeting which I ignored. If it’s really important, she’ll see me in person. Went swimming with Sam. We started planning Tony’s big Christmas party even though that’s MONTHS away.

But, you know. We’re so busy all the time, it might be worth it planning ahead.

As head of R&D, it’s vital to me that this goes well because they’re fun when they do go well, and a chaotic disaster when they don’t. Also, I have to find a date but details will follow.

I think that’s it.

If there’s more to follow, then I’ll just come back but there really isn’t.

Oh, Alpine found my room. He’s in here right now and he snores. It’s cute, just like his owner.

Okay, goodnight.

Aug. 7/20

Dear Jane,

Sam, James, and I went swimming.

Pro of the day: James is ripped and that man was GLISTENING.

Con of the day: I AM STUPID in front of hot ripped men.

Pro of the day: We got ice cream together. Strawberry for me, mango for James because he wants to try new flavours, and Sam ordered some monstrosity with vanilla ice cream, chocolate and raspberry syrups, and a bunch of banana slices. A swirl of whipped cream to finish it off. It looked like diabetes in a cup and that’s coming from me.

Con of the day: James used his thumb to wipe the ice cream off my lip and my brain short-circuited. Sam teased us about it, but James very stubbornly and convincingly said we’re just friends.

Con of the day x2: We are just friends and that is NOT going to change. I cannot explain how much my heart literally fell out of my body in disappointment.

God, and James and I are meeting up at 2AM tonight so he can show me this new stupid stuffed celerey recipe he learned.

It’s not stupid.

It’s really, REALLY cute he researched it.

This sucks.

Aug. 11/20

The worst day ever. I don’t want to talk about it but might as well make a note on it. More on it later, I guess.

Aug. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry, I’m dramatic. Must get it from working with Tony for so many years.

Let’s just review what occurred on August 11, 2020, at approximately 3:23 in the afternoon.

I learned that James went out on a date. A DATE. From SAM. When James had ample opportunity to tell me at our regular meeting at witching hour over celery sticks.

EXCUSE ME? WHO IS THIS WOMAN?

I’m not even mad. I’m just angry that the man I became friends with only 2 weeks ago and caught feelings immediately for is seeing other people.

I sound like a raging bitch. I promise you, Jane, that I am not. I’m just the insanely jealous type.

No, I’m not.

God, what is happening to me and why does it have to be James.

I never get crushes and the instant I do, it’s for the most emotionally and physically unavailable person ON EARTH.

Also, work was work. I was distracted, drank soup from the canteen, and generally accomplished nothing. Alpine came for some snuggles while James was out. That’s the only good thing.

Thanks, universe.

Aug. 16/20

Dear Jane,

So, I brought up this mystery lady over homemade sundaes.

James seems pretty serious about her because he a) apologized for not telling because he wanted to keep it private and asked me not to tell anyone and b) has a second date with her later today.

Oh, GOD. There is no point to this.

Aug. 19/20

Dear Jane,

What’s the point of asking someone intimate, personal questions if not because you guys are best friends?

James called me his best friend today. He says he knows me, but if he did, he’d know I feel like throwing up whenever he’s around and that his stare burns through every layer of clothing until I feel like he just knows my secret.

I told him we’ve known each other less than a month, but he said something stupidly charming about “intuition” and feeling and that this feels right and how he knows he can tell me anything and that I was an easy person to talk to.

I should’ve been a shrink.

At least, my trip to Wakanda is going to give me distance. A solid two months of no one else but me, tech, and new faces. Going there to collaborate with Shuri is definitely exciting and taking up more space in my brain than James these days.

Maybe I’ll fall in love with some soldier over there because apparently, I’m catching feelings willy-nilly these days.

See you on the plane, Jane.

Aug. 23/20

Dear Jane,

On the quinjet, it’s fairly quiet. It’s one of the things I love about it. The silent yet soft engines that can lull me to sleep. We should be arriving in a few hours so I thought I’d write. I’m getting the hang of this, I think.

There's a press conference later, too, in the trip with the UN and it’s not that I can’t handle it, but that I could’ve done this in my sleep and wished Tony sent someone else. I hate the press, not gonna lie.

Anyway, this gives me time to be introspective.

Is it just me or James always Okay, is it just my imagination that whenever I try to get close to James, he just kinda pulls away? Not in a romantic way. I’m not stealing anyone’s man because girl code, but he won’t even let me just stand near him anymore. It’s like I have an infectious disease only transmitted through physical contact and it’s just weird.

I don’t know.

Before I left, he said he’d miss me and that we should keep in touch through calls (Obviously, I would) and that he hopes I won’t forget him.

So, you say those things but you won’t even let me even hug you?

You’re a manipulative asshole, Barnes.

Oct. 20/20

Dear Jane,

I am so sorry that it has taken so long for us to reunite.

In hindsight, I’m a fucking idiot.

I left you on the quinjet which went back to New York and a different quinjet came to pick me up. I came back like two days ago so these past few days have been spent searching for you.

James offered to help, and he seems normal again.

Weird. Guess he was just in a mood with the new girlfriend and adjusting to having me as a friend, too. Guys go through that, I guess.

In Wakanda, I did not, in fact, fall in love with a soldier or anything. I curse every day that I didn’t, trust me. I’m just as disappointed as you are because I just want to get over this stupid crush. For the two months I was gone, it was like I didn’t like James at all like that. Even during calls, I could pretend we were just two teammates keeping each other in the loop. He talked about his girlfriend, I listened, I explained science because he’s a nerd, and he asked questions like he was interested.

It was FINE.

Then, he was waiting for me when I came back to NYC and it slammed into me like Bruce in Hulk-mode.

James asked if I wanted to meet his girlfriend because she’d be coming around for the Halloween party anyway, and he thinks we’ll get along swimmingly.

He really said swimmingly. He is stuck in the wrong era, but we all knew that.

I said yes, to be polite.

Here’s to hoping she’s a vindictive bitch and I am justified in hating her entire being.

Oct. 22/20

Dear Jane,

I met her. She’s small and pretty and mature and normal.

If I wasn’t stupidly in my feelings about James, I’d love her, too.

She’d treat him right, give him a good home to come back to.

Best not to notice the people fighting beside you in that way, I guess.

Oct. 25/20

Dear Jane,

God is dead and NO ONE has eyes on the road.

Jesus isn’t even taking the wheel on this one.

It’s a fucking disaster.

I do not want to describe in every little detail the intricacies of dreaming about James Buchanan Barnes fucking my brains out, so I won’t, but this is for the record that it happened and how the fuck am I supposed to come back and see him in his probably gorgeous attempt at his recreation of Brendan Fraser from the Mummy AKA my favourite movie (which HE KNOWS THAT IT IS?? GOD, the audacity.)

Girlfriend (his girlfriend. “Girlfriend” is the name which she shall be henceforth known as in these entries because petty wins are all I have right now) is dressing as Rachel Weisz. Because “couples goals” or whatever.

I wouldn’t know. Sam and I are dressed up as sexy salt and pepper shakers (his idea, not mine) and he made me take the salt stick because I think he knows. Steve’s not dressing up because he’s more focused on handing out candy as Captain America.

Tony is… Tony. Iron Man and all that.

Anyway, I’m out of town in DC for a meeting with the Secretary of State for a few days, but I’ll be back in New York on the 30th so I’ll have a few hours to adjust to being around James again before he dons on that outfit that I know will be totally hot.

He called me his best friend again in his latest email.

Made me smile like an idiot, but I digress.

Nov. 1/20

Dear Jane,

Halloween was killer. Sam and I won best duo for costumes because we’re that good. Ate a lot of candy and it seems to be looking up.

I dunno. I didn’t mind James and Girlfriend on the couch that much in the after-party. Mostly stuck by Nat and Sharon and Tony. An ood trio, but a fun one nonetheless.

It was fun, but I still have to go to work no matter how many jello shots and vodka gummy bears consumed.

Wish me luck, not that I need it.

Why do you think Tony hired me?

Nov. 4/20

Dear Jane.

Natasha said I smile at James in a way that utterly betrays every emotion I want to hide in my chest.

Note to self: Don’t smile at James, or at his jokes, or at anything he ever does again. Avoid him. Put a stopper on this friendship.

Note to note to self: I can’t. He just makes me smile whenever he’s around and he’s always around. There’s no simpler way to put it.

I’m gonna try this hiatus thing, though. Distance myself a bit. We’ll see how it goes.

Nov. 13/20

Dear Jane,

Day nine of this hiatus business and it sucks. I miss my best friend.

We’re scheduled for a mission together, and we’re leaving tomorrow so I was going to have to talk to him during the briefing and the op either way.

Well, glad to know this didn’t work.

Nov. 15/20

Dear Jane,

Guess who just got fucking shot!

ME!

Guess even scumbags can’t take a holiday because some stupid arms dealer got a cheap shot on me while I was downloading their whole computer system and other tech mumbo-jumbo I am too high to write about.

James left a few hours ago with the rest of the team, but not before he got me a bunch of ice chips and said he was worried and that he hopes I get better soon. He even promised to get me some flowers to spruce up the room and to say my HEART went CRAZY is an understatement.

He came to my rescue, essentially, as soon as he heard I got pinned. He carried me to the quinjet the instant he cleared the area and stayed by my side the whole time even though the bleeding stopped and I was in good hands. He was just so protective, barking at doctors and nurses. It was embarrassing but also really, really sweet.

Is it weird of me to say that I want him to stay by my side forever?

I’ve never fallen in love before.

Is it always this fast and this hard? I feel like I’m crashing instead of gently and wonderfully falling. Everything is dumb and awful.

Is this what love is like? Because it hurts worse than getting shot because I think I’m going to vomit flowers or butterflies or something.

God, he’d never love me. We’re just friends and even though we have a lot in common, he’d never. It’s just too much of the past in the present or whatever.

Also, he has a girlfriend but it seems very surface-level. God, that makes me sound like a “one of the boys” type of girl who’s a bitch to one of the boy’s new girlfriends, but I don’t know. James told me they don’t really talk about the deep stuff like we do. But she makes him happy, I think.

In hindsight, one may ask what the deep stuff is.

More on that later. I’m tired.

God, why him?

I HATE THIS.

goodnight.

Nov. 16/20

Dear Jane,

James visited again today. He sat beside me and we talked until the nurses had to kick him out. He also brought the flowers.

I asked about Girlfriend casually. I said I liked her.

He said he did, too.

I don’t know why I think he’s lying. No, I do.

It’s because jealousy is the green-eyed bitch from highschool who still shows up in my life because she thinks she’s relevant to society.

That was mean. Unrequited love makes you mean. Side effect noted.

P.S. The deep stuff includes his past, his arm, his memory, his favourite colour. I dunno why that matters. It just does.

Nov. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Got out of the hospital today because of advanced technology and all that. Nothing’s left but a scar and residual soreness. James helped me to my room and said to call him if I had a problem.

I joked that he has a girlfriend and for some reason, he got really weird about it. It’s hard to describe. I dunno. Nat dropped by for popcorn and movies.

It’s 2:32AM. I’m wondering if he’s in the kitchen but I’m confined to bed rest so I don’t know. Also, Nat is asleep beside me and I don’t want to bother her.

Hopefully I can get up and move in a few days. Life is boring.

Nov. 24/20

Dear Jane,

Sorry we haven’t caught up in a moment. Work’s been hectic and I’ve been working overtime trying to make ends meet. Most days I’m in the office or lab, just trying to get enough things done so I can take time off come Christmas.

James stopped by tonight with Chinese takeout and some sweet buns.

He broke up with his girlfriend, too.

Guess that’s why he was being weird about it.

I tried being as casual as I could asking why, but he didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked why he came by. Couldn’t be for the company because when I’m in work mode, I just don’t talk and he knows that.

He said something about his arm feeling funny so I gave it a quick diagnostics check.

I think both of us knew his arm was feeling fine.

Everything is stupid, life is meaningless, and James’ lips are the prettiest shade of pink in the ugly lights of the lab.

I would very much like to have kissed him, but I didn’t.

Girl code.

It’ll probably be a while before I get another chance to actually have time and energy to write another diary entry. Christmas season’s coming close and Pepper is gonna need help with the party.

Yay, me.

Dec. 4/20

Dear Jane,

Morgan asked me in less eloquent words if I had a boyfriend (it was more like “You boyfriend?” But whatever. Who even taught her that word?) and I swear to GOD Nat could not make it anymore obvious looking at James.

Remind me to absolutely throttle her. I don’t care if she’s the infamous Black Widow. She has clearly never seen me hopped up on nothing but a negative amount of sleep and rage/embarrassment/spite/all of the above.

On another note, Pep asked if I was bringing a plus one for the party. I said I’d think about it. Normally I’d just take Sam but he has his eyes on someone at the VA and I like my friends getting laid so no go there.

Might just go alone. I don’t know.

Pep said I should take James, but I don’t really think she knows the truth about that situation. Luckily, Tony instantly rejected the idea and said he’d find me a date if I couldn’t.

Thank the universe for at least placing me in the close circle of the most well-known and richest man in the world because he also gave me his card and said go wild.

He knows me so well. I’m thinking about Christmas shopping when I have another free day, and I’ll pay for that with my own money, of course, but clothes shopping is a free market.

I cannot wait.

Dec. 12/20

Dear Jane,

I wish I could show you my haul, but I got so much stuff Happy had to drive to help me. Besides obvious gifts, I also managed to snag a gorgeous dress for the party.

Thoughts on black and gold?

I think it’s beautiful. Hopefully Nat and Sharon think so. We’re having a girls night tonight and showing off outfits, so that’s exciting.

James asked if we could meet up tonight.

I told him I had plans and he looked so downcast.

I dunno. Everything feels weird between us. Like we’re fine, we’re best friends still, but something’s changed when no one was looking. He’s single now. I guess that energy is different because I had gotten used to his energy with ex-Girlfriend.

I don’t exactly mind but it’s not ideal either. I miss summer. It’s much less complicated than winter. Winter, one has to worry about wind and chills and snows blocking roads, black ice, dry skin, freezing fingers.

Summer: there’s just a lot of sun, wind, bugs, and the vaguest notion of being bored.

Look, I love winter. It’s my favourite season. It’s quiet and gorgeous and dreamy, even though it gets dreary in New York. The snow falls slowly sometimes, Christmas is gorgeous here, and I’d rather be cold than sweating buckets, and there are no bugs to bother me. Also, it gives me a good reason to stay in the labs or in my room where it’s warm and toasty.

I just miss the relative simplicity when James and I were just strangers on the edge of being friends, which is, in retrospect, a selfish reason to like one season and hate another.

Well, some philosopher somewhere probably said something about humanity being selfish.

Dec. 16/20

Dear Jane,

T-minus nine days until the party.

No date in sight.

Maybe I’ll ask Anderson from HR. We had coffee together a few times and he’s nice. Good catch: smart, not too bad looking, and really nice. I’ll head down tomorrow and ask.

Alpine had purred when I told him my plan and headbutted my hand, so I guess I got the Alpine-Seal-of-Approval.

Dec. 17/20

Dear Jane,

Operation: Ask Anderson from HR to Tony’s Christmas Party failed. Granted, it could’ve been because that was a god awful title and that that name, in itself, prophesied catastrophic failure, but also because I was accosted by my best friend.

I wish I meant Sam.

Nope. James caught me in the elevator and we made small talk. Sounds fine, right? Then we turned the topic to the party. Talked about clothes and prospective celebrity appearances and drinks and food. Just about everything, so might as well turn to talks about dates, which meant I had to explain why I was in the elevator in the first place.

Going down to ask Anderson ended in James revealing that he didn’t have a date either.

He doesn’t know who Anderson is, which I thought would be the case, and he popped the question before the doors opened.

Notice how I said “didn't” have a date.

Guess who’s going to the party with James, clearly stated as friends, platonic soulmates, etc.?

Me.

Yippee.

Dec. 18/20

Dear Jane,

It’s 3:42AM and I’m in the rec room as usual. I was gonna not write here today but it normally helps me sleep to just write a bit, get what little thoughts are in my head out. Yeah.

I hear James in the kitchen talking to Alpine and it’s making me smile like an idiot.

Oh, shit, he knows I’m in here. He’s making milkshakes.

I am morally obligated by best friend duties to join him.

Goodnight, Jane.

Dec. 24/20

Dear Jane,

I’m not sleeping with James Buchanan Barnes tomorrow night.

This is a resolute promise. An early New Year’s resolution.

Dec. 25/20

Dear Jane,

Merry Christmas!

In between jovial festivities, I’ve finally found a little nook that’s quiet enough to write in. We opened presents, had a big family breakfast, went skating and just lounged around, and frankly, I’m exhausted. Need to recharge the old social battery.

Among the assortment of gifts is one that stands out to me. James got me a gift that said “Open When Alone” and I did before I started this entry and it was a fucking necklace. Like, a gorgeous one. It’s gold and thin and it feels wonderful. There’s a little cat paw charm on it and it’s so pretty because he has a matching bracelet for himself and I have still not yet recovered.

It’s just so sweet and it reminds me why I love him.

Yes, love has made me unbelievably sappy. I just heaved the biggest sigh in history.

Unfortunately, I have to go earlier tonight. To the party, as written in previous entries. I remember my oath of one-night celibacy and I intend on keeping it, despite how fucking endearing this gift was, because he said it best: we’re just friends. I’m not about to coerce my best friend into sleeping with me out of a piteous, unrequited love. That’s just gross.

You will either see me hungover tomorrow, or very drunk later tonight. It’s all very depending on how this night turns out.

Dec. 26/20

Dear Jane,

Fuck.

P.S. He REALLY does not mind me calling him James. Take that as dirtily or as clandestinely as you wish.

Dec. 27/20

Dear Jane,

I spent the entire day in bed with very pleasurable company.

I am SO GLAD we haven’t gotten called in because James doesn’t leave unless to go to sleep in his own bed or to eat, and I do NOT want to explain to the team that James fucked my brains out for two days straight because my heart is bursting.

He’s a good kisser. His lips are soft.

Intimate knowledge of that is now burned into my memory for future reference.

God, this is a dream come true. He doesn’t even question it, he just

It’s like I’m a goddess to him. He treats me like one, at least, and it’s like he’ll do anything I ask. And we act like it’s normal, too. Midnight trips to the kitchen included.

Best Christmas ever.

Dec. 28/20

Dear Jane,

I feel like I’m ignoring you but I’m also having the best sex of my life. He’s just… so fucking good and it’s a holiday and holy shit my mind is blown.

Love at first meeting isn’t real.

Well, maybe this one time, it was destiny.

Dec. 29/20

Dear Jane,

It isn’t just the sex, you know? It’s the pillowtalk, too. He just makes me laugh so much and everything is so easy between us and it feels real. Popcorn and chips in bed, some mojitos, just each other’s presence. It’s enough like that, you know?

Some quote about how the one you love should be both your lover and your best friend is in my head but I’m too lazy to look it up. James’ head is in my lap and he’s just reading while I’m writing and everything seems perfect.

He doesn’t ask what I’m writing because he knows it’s private and I trust him.

This is perfect.

I think I really am IN love with him.

Jan. 1/21

You know that cliché/tradition of New Year’s kisses?

WELL THEN.

Best (and worst) New Year’s ever. I’ll explain more later. I’m too tired and too angry and also sore and bruised.

See you when I’m not hungover.

Jan. 5/21

Dear Jane,

I’m finally stable enough to write.

In a crazy turn of events, Barnes and I got into a fight because of what happened after New Year’s Day’s events: I caught him leaving before I woke up and at first, curious questions ensued, and it wasn’t a fight but then it became one and I don’t even know how it happened. I wasn’t even mad. He just started being weird and I got annoyed and we tried and failed to keep our voices down. Luckily, my room is pretty soundproof.

Things just got out of hand and I feel like tearing my hair out. I wanna storm up to him and just yell some more.

Tony came into my room and didn’t say shit about my hickies and the fact that James is avoiding me like the plague. He gave me a really good hug, though and then gave me a few weeks off extra. I don’t know how he knows, but then again, it’s Tony.

He just said love’s tough sometimes.

Yeah, tell me about it.

I’m thinking about just taking a long vacation and disappearing. It seems like a good route to take at this point.

Jan. 6/21

Dear Jane,

James is looking at me right now as I write this. I wonder if I should look back or if he’s going to come up to me. We’ll see.

I’m only writing this so it seems like I’m busy. I’m running out of things to say, honestly. Can he just go? What’s the point in staring like that? What’s the point?

I could ask myself the same question. What’s the point in loving someone who’ll never love you? Yeah, he’s sleeping with me but he pulls away every time I try to do something more. Outside the bubble of my room and the small time frame of post-11PM to around 4:45AM, he acts like he’s allergic to intimacy.

It was never like that with ex-Girlfriend.

Maybe it’s something to do with me.

I don’t know, but he keeps looking and I want to get up and leave, but I won’t. I’m not gonna let him win.

Jan. 6/21

He didn’t. He just went out. Sam and Steve asked if I was okay because as soon as he left, I got up for the bathroom and screamed into a towel.

I don’t think either of them knows what’s going on, but they have a notion.

Jan. 9/21

Dear Jane,

He apologized. Still no explanation as to why, but it feels weird.

I told him I’m going on a vacation to Switzerland. Go skiing or something and asked if he wanted to come.

It was stupid to ask, but he said yes.

Shit.

Jan. 14/21

Dear Jane,

Switzerland is lovely.

No work is relaxing. Awkwardness between me and the other traveller on this vacation. Weather’s supposed to be nice when we get there. Sunny snow days, pretty mountains, other Swiss things.

No other comment.

Jan. 21/21

Dear Jane,

I lasted all of a week.

Yep, I slept with him again, and yes, he was back in his hotel bed come sunrise.

I dunno. I’m over it. We don’t apologize and hope everything gets back to normal because neither of us want to say anything to ruin it any further and we both have a major fear of the complicated. To be fair, he said he didn’t want to sleep with me if I was completely against it.

Also, I tried calling him Bucky at dinner like ex-Girlfriend (and everyone else) does and he made the most disgusted face.

He said, and I quote, “Bucky? When did I stop being James?”

I told him I was trying something out and he said it failed. Snarky bastard.

I guess if he’s still James, that must mean I’m still special.

That’s the Tony-inherited ego talking.

But it does make me exceptionally happy to play with the idea that I’m special to him. Best friend with convoluted benefits. Sounds like the title of a very long-winded self-help book that doesn’t really help much but that does sound like the story of my life so I can’t complain too much.

We’re going home in a few days.

I’ll probably sleep with him again. Bet Steve’s shield that I do.

Jan. 24/21

Dear Jane,

I get three Steve’s shields because I was right every single fucking day.

He’s like a habit I can’t quite kick and don’t really want to.

We snuggled afterwards last night. His arm was around my shoulders, we were naked, I was resting my head on his chest. For a moment, it felt like something couples do and then I fell asleep and woke up alone.

Quantum physics is easier to understand than this but I think we’re being mutually exclusive right now, so it’s almost dating.

I dunno. I don’t mind it anymore. It’s better than nothing.

Feb. 2/21

Dear Jane,

I’m absolutely miserable.

I’m still getting laid, but that’s not related. Correlation and causation or something.

Why is New York so dreary and when can everything just stop?

I don’t know. Winter is ending and now it’s in that awful transition phase between seasons and it’s mucky and rainy and disgusting. Tony got these limited edition ice cream flavours though so I’m gonna ask James if we can make milkshakes out of them or something.

He doesn’t like the muck either. That’s not really relevant, I guess.

Feb. 14/21

Dear Jane,

I got flowers and chocolate from the department because I think they can sense I’ve been in a bad mood since forever. Then, there was an anonymous delivery and inside was this gorgeous chain bracelet that matches the necklace sort of. I lied and told the department it was from Pepper.

What a wretched holiday.

Yours truly.

Feb. 18/21

Dear Jane,

Normally, when boys get their haircut, they look ugly for a day or two after.

Not James.

He got his hair cut shorter and he looks really good. Like unbelievably good. Short hair fits him just as much as long hair does.

No other observations.

Feb. 25/21

Dear Jane,

It was Morgan’s birthday party today. James came in one of those brown jackets with the sheepskin wool inside and he looked so good. We mainly stayed apart to prevent any dalliance because one does not disappear from the Madame Secretary’s birthday party and the team doesn’t really know what’s happening behind the scenes except for Nat and Tony, really.

I really wanted to kiss him in front of our friends. I caught him staring a few times, and every time, the smile seemed to vanish off his face.

I’m lying in bed and it feels pretty empty.

It occurs to me that I’ve been in love for a pretty long time and I’m not even in a relationship with the guy.

Energy could’ve been devoted to so many other things and I’d hate being in love if it weren’t for the fact that it’s James.

Again, love making me sappy and all that.

Feb. 28/21

Dear Jane,

Jane is such a common name. Some would call it plain yet it means gift from God.

I wonder if James knew that.

Mar. 10/21

Dear Jane,

It’s James’ birthday. Birthday sex is a requirement and a desire. I also got him a gift which is a pair of new black Timbs. I hope he likes them. I’m excited for cake, I guess. Morgan did my makeup but I’m gonna have to wipe it off for the small little party tonight.

I think, ordinarily, I’d be in knots because it’s James’ birthday and I love him and he’s my best friend, but I just don’t know. March is fairly boring and contemplative and rainy. Work is work. Helen Cho did a presentation on her Cradle technology. Very cool.

Mar. 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s raining and doesn’t feel like spring. Alpine vomited on my bed a few days ago because he’s not feeling well. James and I took him to the vet and he’s on antibiotics. Poor boy. He’s sleeping in the corner of my room right now while James is away on a mission. I think I’ll just work from my room for a bit until he’s feeling better.

Nothing much to report, which is why I didn’t write anything. The month passed by too quickly. James should be back by the end of the month. I miss him and not because of the sex. No one else who doesn’t work for me or pays me listens to me ramble on their own free will. Talking to screens just isn’t the same.

April 1/21

James got back really early this morning and I, by tradition, was awake. I sort of wish I wasn’t though. In true April Fool’s tradition, I made fun of him for being a day late to which he genuinely apologized. I told him to shower and get to sleep but he was in that mood where you’re so exhausted you’re wide awake.

James suggested we make really strong cocktails for each other as a celebration for an extraction mission completed successfully.

Who am I to say no to celebrating?

He really likes grapefruit juice so I made a REALLY strong Grapefruit Paloma. He made this really interesting drink that was purple and tasted like oranges and cranberries. A lot of blue curacao was in it so it was pretty bitter but it hit like a fucking truck which is probably why I didn’t understand anything he said at first.

He told me he loved me.

I think, somehow, he managed to get drunk after the Grapefruit Paloma and two more bottles of vodka. Don’t ask me how because Steve NEVER gets drunk. Maybe HYDRA-brand serum is faulty? I don’t know.

I asked if he knew what date it was. He laughed really loudly, said no, realized, stuttered apologies and then said it again.

It was the most perfect sound in the world and it was the best moment in recent history.

Or, the sickest practical joke.

Consensus not yet reached.

April 2/21

Dear Jane,

I asked if he remembered what happened yesterday morning.

He did not.

Sickest practical joke confirmed.

April 9/21

Dear Jane,

I’ve been avoiding writing because I’ve felt a whole lot of nothing. Everything is abysmal and James’ confession is all I can think about. Tony’s on my ass about slipping and he has half the mind to put me on paid leave until I get my shit together, both as the head of the department and as an agent.

Drunk words are sober thoughts, all that garbage.

I wish I could live my whole life drunk and honest. Maybe then I wouldn’t be in this situation where I’m stuck in eternal limbo with my best friend whom I’m in love with. Minus the drunk part.

Duty demands I return to this weathered journal until it’s finished so we’ll see. I might be back this month. Maybe not.

May 1/21

Dear Jane,

It rained a lot in April so now the flowers are blooming early. April showers bring May flowers. Guess it has some merit to it.

Limbo sucks. Its inescapable nature, its terrible facade of everything seeming fine when it really isn’t.

Of course, James still makes me smile, but nothing seems really okay when I let myself stop for a second.

I’m going out with Steve to a charity thing tomorrow. Should be a few hours worth of not thinking and free booze. Oh, and James and I made out in one of the quinjets after dinner today.

Felt weird considering we aren’t a couple, but it happened spontaneously as that is the nature of our relationship, it appears.

The cause also happens to be the cure of melancholy. Weird.

May 6/21

Dear Jane,

For context, it’s 5:23AM.

Went for a walk in Madison Square and then Central Park with James yesterday, although in my head it’s still today. We met up with Nat for some training at the gym. Got a bit mobbed by fans and the paps who asked if we were dating like we’re the tabloid’s biggest scoop.

We weren’t even holding hands, but I guess it’s just another reason why we shouldn’t be TOGETHER together in public.

We had another deep stuff talk again in bed after the usual business. I wanted to ask what this is between us and if he’s pursuing other options, because I’m not and I wanted to know if I should, but I also didn’t want to ruin the vibe.

He was in a good mood today, and seeing as sometimes he has nightmares, I thought it was best I don’t ruin it. He thinks I don’t notice but how do I not notice? He’s my best friend.

I kissed his cheek when he got up to leave and he kissed me goodbye on the lips.

I guess that means something.

May 17/21

Dear Jane,

In a moment of complete boredom, I listened to Imagine Dragons’ new album. It wasn’t too bad, to be honest, but Sharon thought it could’ve been better. Whatever.

May 22/21

Dear Jane,

Ran into ex-Girlfriend today. She still has that whole sunshine thing going on still. We had coffee and she asked if I got together with James yet.

I choked on my coffee and nearly died on the spot.

That’s how I learned that James apparently broke it off softly and ex-Girlfriend had, very wisely and knowingly, said that he should chase the apple of his eye before I (the apple) rotted alone and forgotten at the trunk of the tree. Or, as any sane person would say (and ex-Girlfriend DID say), get picked from the tree by another hand.

She said it was quite obvious that I was in love with James even months ago. She also thanked me for being so nice, anyway, and that it must’ve been difficult. What a fucking SAINT.

I set her up with a date with Steve because they have the same energy, honestly, and that’s going down on the 26th barring any emergencies.

Call me Cupid, but I think I just constructed the perfect match made in heaven.

Mentioned this meeting to James minus the apple detail. He asked if she was doing okay, which she was, and seemed glad for that. Between kisses and his sneaking hand beneath the covers, he also asked if there was anything else. Not really much to say on that front.

June 3/21

Dear Jane,

It’s starting to dry up consistently, now. It’s getting warmer, too. Sam brought me flowers and told me to at least turn the air-con on if I was gonna be stuck in the lab all day. Oh, the simplicities of summer are hopefully returning. Got out early and hung out with Morgan at the park in the evening.

It’s nice to hang out with someone so blissfully unaware with the stupidity of love. All Morgan cares about is grass and buttercups she grabs from the ground. She doesn’t have to worry about how to tell the guy she’s in love with that she loves him.

Oh, didn’t you hear? Nat said I should just buck the fuck up and tell him.

And Nat is scary when not listened to.

Much to brainstorm about.

June 14/21

Dear Jane,

Just here to brainstorm some ideas for future Stark Industries projects and thought I’d preface it with a small diary entry. Nothing really happened. Work’s catching up for some reason and bad guys are acting up. I’ve pulled a few all nighters, not gonna lie.

Really tired, but in a good, productive way. Haven’t thought much on the James front. Gonna have to focus on that after everything calms down.

June 20/21

Dear Jane,

It’s officially summer and yet today was awful with only subtle hints of being okay.

So much for simplicity.

In the evening, I read on the hammock on the balcony. No one really bothered me except James, but he’s never a bother.

Steve and ex-Girlfriend (who will now be reidentified as Girlfriend) are pretty cute, and she meshes well with the group. There’s nothing really awkward between her, James, or me, so I guess two people’s summers are going well. Bully for them.

Didn’t really eat. Was too busy working. James got me dinner. Didn’t feel right and just kept working. This whole agreement between us has been very flexible but we really need to fit in a session soon.

I’ll make it work somehow.

June 22/21

Dear Jane,

I got my wish and didn’t at the same time. We spent the whole day in the sheets (very blissfully relaxing) and I, stupidly and with very little sleep, let it slip.

In less elegant terms, I told him I loved him. It felt very real and genuine and very-out-of-a-movie, but his reaction was less so.

What did I say? Allergic to intimacy.

He tried to play it off as best friends and even that was uncomfortable, but I, very seriously and very foolishly, corrected him that “no, James Buchanan Barnes, I am IN LOVE with you.”

He left a few minutes ago, saying something about heading down to the gym, but I know he’s just trying to avoid me.

God, how am I so stupid?

June 25/21

Dear Jane,

I haven’t seen James in a few days. I thought he was avoiding me but turns out he’s out of the country. Something about protection for whatever dignitary is travelling at the end of the month. I don’t know.

I wasn’t assigned to that op so the details weren’t shared liberally. Sam just said it’d be a while during the ambassador’s entire stay. High threat level which is why the Avengers were contracted.

I just hope he stays safe. I know he probably took off to take his mind off things, but I don’t know how he’s focusing when all I can think of is those three little words.

I love you.

Seems so fake the more I hear it in my head, but his reaction was so real that I think I might’ve just irreversibly messed things up.

July 12/21

Dear Jane,

It’s been a hectic couple of weeks. If future me finds this with blotted words, it’s because I am indeed crying while writing this.

James was medically evac’ed last night and transferred back to New York. Helen Cho was flown in from her medical conference in Minnesota where she was showcasing the newest version of the Cradle.

There was an assasination attempt and James is fucked up bad.

Holy shit, I’m so scared. I’ve never been so scared in my life. It’s like an invisible demon has my heart in his claw-like hands and he’s squeezing with all his might. I think my heart might explode.

I just want to hold his hand but he’s so high risk no one’s allowed to see him right now.

The waiting room is too quiet. Steve’s holding on to Girlfriend’s hand so hard I think her bones are broken but she’s taking it like a champ. Nat’s pacing, slowly patting a sleeping Morgan who she’s carrying. Sam and Tony are talking about stuff.

It’s too quiet.

I’m so scared.

July 13/21

They got him into the Cradle. Thank God. I think I might cry some more out of relief, but he was conscious for a few minutes earlier and he’s stable now.

It’s really late at night but they extended privileges to me to stay with him so I’m just sitting here, writing. Listening to the Cradle do its thing and the monitors do theirs.

When he was conscious, I was with him. He said some stuff under his breath but the one thing I could make out was “I’m an idiot.”

Granted, he’s right. It was supposed to be Steve or Tony on that mission. You know, people with more defense op experience, but he had to go out and volunteer himself.

I feel sort of guilty.

It’s partially my fault, isn’t it?

I think I’ll try to tuck in for tonight. I wanna be awake when he wakes up, too.

July 14/21

Dear Jane,

James woke up today. He’s still in the Cradle (lots of internal damage spread throughout the body) but he’s conscious. He saw me and immediately tried to sit up which was sweet, but when he couldn’t, he just told me to come closer and then told me that he loved me.

I called him an idiot for running away. I told him he really scared me. I told him that I loved him so fucking much. I told him that I feel so guilty and he just held my face and said that it will never be my fault.

He’s so fucking romantic, even when he’s lying down with a wound being stitched closed live in front of my eyes.

Oh, and he kissed me. I don’t think I noticed how much I actually missed him until that moment.

I don’t know how to describe the feeling in my chest. It’s a mixture between super happy and super scared and super, super warm inside. Summer might be looking up.

July 18/21

Dear Jane,

We got home today. James is staying in my room. The team doesn’t say anything about it. We’re best friends, after all, but I think they’ve known for a long time that there’s something more. Some of them are just too polite to say so.

I won’t have much time to write over the next couple of days. James has to be kept on a strict, extremely healthy diet and medicine regime.

I don’t care. I’m just glad he’s home.

He’s kissing me a lot more, now. Alpine likes the fact that his two humans are now in the same room. He purrs so loudly, I can hear him from where he’s dozing, curled up underneath James’ chin. He (James) is resting after his second round of antibiotics for the day while I work from my room, and sometimes I catch myself looking back just to make sure he’s okay.

I’m going to go kiss him now.

Be right back.

July 21/21

Dear Jane,

It’s almost Nat’s birthday (the 26th). Super exciting. James is back on solids and I’m helping him around with walking. Even with the Cradle and the healing factor, he’s still super banged up, so it’s better safe than sorry.

We had a really long talk about love and stuff. It’s good to finally have it out in the open. It was mostly me talking about my side of things and he just nodded a lot. I know he was listening though.

We also kissed a lot, like seventeen year old couples who are heavy on the PDA, but within the privacy of my room. I dunno. I like the heat of his arms and the way he kisses the shell of my ear when he’s bored or it’s a commercial break.

It feels very natural.

I am very much in love with him.

I tell him that and he always looks skeptical, but whatever. He doesn’t have to say it back (I tell him that there’s no pressure) and he’ll get it through his thick skull eventually that he’s now stuck with me.

July 25/21

Dear Jane,

We made cookies in the early AM as tradition for the party tomorrow and I told him that I love him (again, but this time he didn’t run, nor has he the past few times. Fantastic).

While the cookies were baking, he explained everything on his side of the story: how he was scared to be vulnerable, how opening up to me is just different and new and scary and I get it. I really do. I know how it feels to think you don’t deserve good things and sabotage feels like the only way to save everyone from hurt.

He smiled a lot more after that. I guess he’s just glad I get it.

One day, I’ll successfully convince James that he deserves everything good this world has to offer.

Until then, I’ll just keep trying.

P.S. He said, with less hesitation than the first time, that he loves me, too. Best. Day. Ever.

P.P.S. The cookies are so good and I want to devour them all. I could barely stop James from eating all of them. Again: Best. Day. Ever.

July 26/21

Dear Jane,

In summary of today:

Happy birthday, Natasha.

James has been given the clear bill of health which is exciting. Also, I asked him about the Jane and gift of God thing.

He knew. “Intuition” and all that. He also said I looked “like a royal dame” in my swimsuit. Smug idiot just trying to be charming.

I love him and that’s the only reason it works.

Back to the festivities.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

Good morning to you and to James who’s still in my bed at a ripe 6:23AM, fast asleep.

Progress. Now, back to sleep.

July 27/21

Dear Jane,

It’s now 9:49AM and James greeted me with orange juice and waffles. He said I was cute when I slept. Creep.

He also said he tried so many times to stay in my bed after, before we were like we are now, but he never could, and now he’s upset that he missed out on my cute sleeping/waking up for the day face every time he did so.

He is exceptionally cute when he’s pouting.

I think we’re officially boyfriend-girlfriend, but we’ll work out the semantics on that later. For now, it’s another summer day together. He suggested Chinese takeout for dinner because I have to go dip back into the lab later today to check on some samples.

I agreed and he kissed me in promise like it was our “thing.” I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.

Massive progress.

July 28/21

Dear Jane,

He told me I was the only one for him.

Also, he kissed me in front of our friends for the first time. Natasha yelled “FINALLY” and pushed us into the pool. Sam laughed and then I grabbed him and threw him into the pool. Ensuing: a water fight for the ages.

For a day: 10/10

July 31/21

Hey Jane,

I think I’m happy.

I’m sorry I ever doubted the effects of writing down my feelings.

James has a romantic trip to uptown planned for our first date and he said it’ll take the whole day so I thought I’d get this entry in the morning. I dunno. It’s really early and the happy thought was the first thing that came to my head.

Weird, but it’s a good weird.

See you in a bit.

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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DEADCRUSH

Summary: Deadcrush, a game played based on the question “what historical figure would I want to take on a date if they were alive today?”

A/N: 4k word count because I can’t be brief about anything. Also mentions age difference, and questionable internet humor. Also now with Part 2! Oh my god and Part 3!

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

It’s in the middle of receiving a blow to his jaw when Bucky hears your voice whistle through the air above him.

“No way!” You’re yelling, “That’s sick, Peter!”

He glances up for half a second to see you swinging against the New York backdrop, left hand raised and entombed by a thick knot of webbing from Parker who’s launching you and himself across the skyline. Bucky dodges another fist and by the time he’s knocked out the thug trying to get fresh with him, you’ve already finished your trajectory and bowled over a cluster of bodies. The ground’s cracked where you made your descent in the distance, and Parker lands softly next to you.

“Come on!” He cries, pitch rising, “You picked Rasputin!”

You respond with a maniacal giggle. “He’s Russia’s greatest love machine!” With a flick of your wrist, you condescendingly scoff. “Dude, Anne Frank? She was twelve.”

“Rasputin was like a million! And insane! Anne Frank is close to my age, at least. And this is entirely hypothetical—I'm imagining a future with her where she’s older than me. I think we’d totally get along, I read her diary and everything- I mean, we’re so close! Fine--” Parker crosses his arms.

“Marie Curie.”

Your eyes catch Bucky looking and you give him a wide smile and a small wave before you pivot back to Peter. Bucky’s brow furrows even deeper before he turns and heads towards Steve who’s winding down at the end of his own fight. Kids are fucking weird, he thinks a little bitterly, as you and Parker squabble on in the distance.

In the middle of dinner, as he’s twisting a ream of spaghetti onto his fork, you and Parker stand on the balcony eating what looks like a whole baguette smeared with jelly. Through the glass door, Parker crunches into it before handing the baguette off to you. He’s gesturing wildly and brushing crumbs off his suit.

You take a bite too large for your mouth and the crust crumbles down your chin, chased by a dribble of jelly. You level your palm and start measuring Peter’s height much to his indignance, and Bucky has to turn around before he loses his appetite completely. He hears your laughter muffled through the door. Your hand is clasped on Parker’s shoulder in an attempt to hold yourself up.

You’re a funny one. Always joking and cheerful. You’ve been a part of the team for the past six months and you’re closest to Parker both in demeanor and in age, but sometimes Bucky finds you up late at night and the two of you sit at the table over a cup of tea.

You show him inexplicable and strange images from your phone and try your best to explain to him why the frog is on the unicycle and what the hell “yeet” actually means. Once, you showed him a video about twerking but when you jokingly proposed that you might teach him instead, he nearly knocked the table over by jerking up, ready to take off.

It always ends with joyful tears in the corners of your eyes.

It makes him a little bit angry with himself because he really has no right to even be talking to you. Cryrosleep aside, he’s almost old enough to be your father. But when your laughter lights up the room, it burns those harsh thoughts from his brain.

He’d never admit it, but when he’s awake after tossing for hours, he hopes you’re in the kitchen.

The door swings open and in-between mouthfuls, Parker is baffled, “Who is that?”

“Ancient poet.” You answer, popping a finger in your mouth, “My girl! Island of Lesbos. She definitely knew how to...” You waggle your eyebrows, make a V-shape with your fingers, and lewdly run your tongue up and down between them. Bucky thinks he sees you looking at him, but he feels himself flushing at your comment and pretends like he’s enthralled with spaghetti.

“Dude. Stop it.” Peter moans.

In the middle of movie night, another showing of Mary Poppins, you and Parker once again tuck away into the corner of the Stark auditorium with a shared blanket and chatter vehemently. Bucky doesn’t know which is more irritating—Van Dyke’s terrible accent, or the fact that the two of you are attached by the hip today.

“Marilyn Monroe!” Parker whispers.

From the corner of his eye, Bucky watches you contemplate your reply before leaning in impossibly close to Peter. The young man’s jaw clenches as his eyes widen like saucers. He shoots Bucky a look, as if catching him eavesdropping.

“What!?” Peter shrieks.

The entire room turns to look at the two of you. You clamp your hand over Peter’s mouth, bury your face into the side of his head.

“That’s the safest one!” You say.

“No! No, it’s definitely not safe!” He responds back, voice cracking slightly and pushing your face away when your hair tickles him. “Gettoffa— God! Are you serious!?”

“Okay, what the hell is this conversation?” Natasha pauses the movie and leans over the back of the recliner.

Peter pulls the cover over his face and you start giggling again.

“We’re talking about our DC’s.” You finally admit, pausing enough to calm yourself.

“DC’s?” Steve questions.

“Dead crushes.” There it is again- that little look you send his way. He thinks three times is at least one too many to be just a dream.

“Dead-what-now?” Sam is incredulous.

“You guys have never played this game before? You know, pick one person from history who you’d take out to dinner if circumstances made it possible.”

Peter pokes his head out, “And look, please tell her that all of my choices are perfectly reasonable! Anne Frank? Marilyn Monroe? Marie Curie? She picked Rasputin! And not because of that weird old song.”

You scoff because Boney M is a fine example of industry-bottled pop music and beat Milli Vanilli as the façade of genuine artistry by miles.

“Rasputin’s a bit dark, isn’t he?” Steve shakes his head.

Sticking your tongue out at him, you land your gaze on Natasha with a sly smirk.

“Who would you pick, sexy international Russian spy? Let’s get a peek into that gorgeous red head of yours.” She licks her lips at your overt flirtation and flips her hair over her shoulder.

Bucky folds his arms over his chest and leans back into the chair he’s on. This was your game—saddling up to people with effortless compliments and humor, reading a personality so well and maneuvering yourself to fit just right into their expectations. Who else could be so forward with Natasha, joking or otherwise? Who else would suggest teaching him how to twerk? Fuck.

Natasha mulls the question over for a second, “Stalin. I’d take him to dinner. And then to his grave.”

There’s an exasperated sound that escapes your lips. “Okay, that’s not really how the game works. This is not supposed to be a political commentary- it's a genuine display of … attraction!”

“To corpses.” Bucky mutters.

“Okay, that’s dark.” You and Peter exhale in unison. The giggles that escape both of you as you start calling “jinx” on each other before wrestling on that tiny fucking sofa chair makes him bite back a growl. From the couch to his left, Steve notices.

In the middle of pouring scalding water into a plain white mug, Bucky feels a tap on his shoulder.

“No.” He greets the finger. “Nope. Steve. Goodnight, jerk.”

“You’re actin’ like a kid, Buck.”

Bucky huffs as he sets the kettle back down with a clatter on the stovetop.

“No.” The problem is that I’m not the kid, Bucky scolds himself for even having the thought surface.

Steve half-heartedly sighs because Bucky is so smitten it’s almost painful to watch. It’s obvious to him and the rest of the team that the two of you dance around each other under the pretense of professionalism, but he knows that the laughter coming from down the hallway late at night is more meaningful than a work relationship.

The first time Steve had seen Bucky lean into a friendly touch was when you had placed your hand on his back, steadying yourself as you fixed your shoe. It was such an offhanded gesture, and Bucky tensed briefly before holding out his arm for you. You didn’t realize his intention and took his entire vibranium hand with a firm squeeze before waltzing off, leaving him to gaze after your disappearing trail. That was three weeks into Bucky’s time at the compound, and your fourth month. It opened Steve’s eyes to a possibility he hadn’t yet entertained.

Steve thinks part of how easily you had infiltrated Bucky’s stonewall demeanor is, in fact, your age. You were right on the cusp of balancing maturity and immaturity, often teetering into the immature waters out of habit. You stayed up late for no reason, played video games for hours, ate all sorts of odd meals with no care for your health, and always gladly shared anything that made you smile. It was infectious. You lacked the exact type of self-awareness everyone else had that made them so careful with Buck— and he let you slip through the cracks effortlessly.

It’s your childlike happiness that’s done it for Bucky. Even though it’s now become a point of uneasiness for his friend, Steve is thankful that you’re exactly how old you are. It’s helped him more than harmed him so far.

Bucky takes a sip of his peppermint and lemon tea and leans against the counter. Steve watches with amusement as his shoulders tense when your chortle bounces into the room. You’re telling Peter goodnight as he heads back home to Queens.

“Hey!” You call, “Sunrise tomorrow?”

A faint affirmation is heard before Parker’s whooping whips faintly in the distance, swinging away. The front door closes and you pop into the kitchen wearing nothing but a swimsuit cover-up, full of diamond-shaped holes. A tiny pink bikini peeks out from underneath the pattern. Bucky averts his gaze because the women of his time did not dress like that and he’s not even sure looking in your direction is legal.

“Night swimming?” Steve asks with a smirk at his friend, who turns around to hide the red creeping up his cheeks like vines.

You nod eagerly before opening the pantry and grabbing a box of Oreos from the top shelf. Tucking one into your mouth, you crunch through it and swallow before closing the pantry door and placing the container under your arm. Crumbs fall down your chest and you curse under your breath as you swipe bits of cookie from your top, oblivious to why Steve suddenly finds the ceiling very interesting.

“Hey me and Double-P are gonna watch the sunrise on top of the Chrysler building tomorrow- you two wanna come? He’ll swing you right up! It’s fun! I’m gonna make breakfast!”

They both shake their head and you mutter something about their loss for a free roller coaster and good view. Bucky and Steve follow your path out the door and hear the patter of your feet before you crash into the deep midnight water with a tremendous cannonball. They watch as your head breaks the surface of ripples before you lean back and squirt water from your mouth like a fountain. Music surges from the outdoor speakers— a seductive Latin Pop tune with hints of reggaeton. You float over to the pool’s edge and throw another cookie in your mouth, bopping along to the groove enthusiastically, shoulders winding to the ebb and flow of water.

“C’mon, Buck.” Steve urges, motioning his head to where you float lazily, watching the moon, nodding to synth beats and timbales drumming. “Forget age… she woulda been your kinda girl back in the day.”

Bucky swallows and turns to his steaming mug, “There were no girls like her back in the day.”

It’s in the middle of his nightmare when Bucky jerks awake and smells buttered toast and coffee. It’s still dark out, only four-something, but he stumbles to the restroom and brushes his teeth anyway. When he arrives at the kitchen, you’re standing at the stovetop wearing athletic shorts and bunny slippers. There’s a frilly orange apron tied neatly to your waist, covering a shredded crop-top, and you’re flipping a hearty slice of bread with an egg in the center.

“Hey Sarge.” You smile, “Help yourself to an eggy. Yolk’s runny and dippable, just like God intended.”

He shakes his head no because he knows you’re preparing it for Peter, but sits down on a stool anyway, leaning over the counter to watch you with interest. When one piece of toast cooks, you move to crack fresh pepper and sea salt over another. You also slice tomatoes and rinse fresh basil leaves, tunelessly humming the whole time. When you stifle a yawn with your shoulder, Bucky squints at the tell-tale blue bags under your eyes.

“Again?”

You rub your neck with a guilty smile and take a sip of water, “Got stuck on the internet… reading about… I can’t even... I know I started with Kennedy… but the last browser is bee swarming and royal jelly...”

He laughs when you go off on a rant about how bees communicate with each other, even demonstrating for him something you called a “waggle dance”, and he’s not sure if you’re just making shit up or not but it’s cute as hell when you bend your elbows and shuffle in figure eights on the tile.

“So then, me— a bee— would show you— another bee— this dance… and then you would go find the yummy flower! And did you know bees would dance with excitement depending on how convinced they are about the quality of the flower!? They get excited!” You repeat the same figure eight this time accompanied by elbow flapping and happy buzzing. The sound vibrates between your teeth and sizzles over your lips.

Bucky’s laughing so hard he has to put his face in his hand. Finally, you settle down.

“Now your turn.” You tease. He shakes his head defiantly, eyes still brimming with amusement.

You pour him a steaming mug of coffee and slide it next to his hand with a small smile. There’s a strange light in your bleary eyes as you bite your bottom lip.

A flush suddenly sweeps across your cheeks.

“What?” Bucky asks, taking a slow sip, savoring the bitter taste as it rolls down his throat.

“It’s stupid...it’s nothing.” The awkward laugh coming from your throat makes Bucky shuffle in the stool, wary and slightly concerned. Before you can continue, Steve pokes his head in and announces he’s going for a run and asks you to save him some breakfast when he gets back. Bucky checks the time on the microwave. Almost five.

Something dings on the bar counter and you move to grab your phone, frowning and placing your hands on the ruffles against your hip. A disappointed noise sputters from your mouth before you tear off the apron and turn off the stovetop with a quiet fury. “He cancelled!” You cry, disappointment darkening your features. “I made all this crap!”

Bucky looks over the countertop arrangement of perfectly crispy thick multigrain toast, shiny fried eggs, tupperware containers of tomato and shredded basil, and two thermoses of coffee and juice. Your shoulders slump as you place your hands on your hips and lean back to pop your neck and crack your knuckles. You pick up the trash can and kick off its lid, placing the edge of the gaping dark maw against the counter, holding your arm out to sweep the food in. Your generally pleasant features are stained by a scowl.

He forgets how impulsive you can be.

“Wait!” Bucky yells, reaching across the counter. “I’ll go. I’ll watch the sunrise with you.” When you stare at him in surprise, he quickly glances around the countertops, “Let’s not waste all this. You worked really hard on it.”

A squeal escapes as you drop the trash can and clasp your two hands together in a cheer. “Bucky. You are…” you suck in a deep breath and hold your hands over your heart, “just the best. My number one… Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes of the one-oh-seventh.”

His heart leaps just a tad as his former title rolls off your tongue almost wistfully. Bucky opens his mouth to ask you what you mean but you’re balancing two containers of foil-wrapped toast, another one of tomato slices and the thermoses are hanging precariously on your middle fingers. Bucky leaps from his seat and takes the food from you, leaving the thermoses in your hand.

“To the roof, Sarge!” You smile, leading the way. He follows closely behind and raises his eyebrow curiously when you keep looking back at him every few steps.

It’s in the middle of biting into the most heavenly piece of toast he’s ever had that Bucky hears you giggle shyly. You’re rarely bashful— usually too sharp-tongued and unfiltered is how most people would describe you. It’s why your best friend is Peter Parker: boy genius, mile-a-minute-mouth.

“What is it?” Bucky’s teeth crunch against the crisp brown edge, the bite of egg sliding over his tongue.

You’re leaned back on your palm, brushing a crumb from the corner of your mouth as you chew pensively on a slice of tomato. The sky is a blackened bruise behind you, disappearing into the balm of a soft, glowing orange.

“You were my deadcrush back in the day.” You mutter, hiding your lips with the tomato. Bucky stops mid-chew and freezes completely, unsure if the confession is just another trick his mind is playing on him. Maybe a breeze in the wind just sounds like your voice. “Not to make this weird…” you supply almost fearfully.

“Oh…”

“I mean— you know, it was totally normal. All the girls either liked Captain America or Sergeant Barnes.” You stuff the tomato in your mouth and reach for another just to busy your hands. Bucky’s face heats up like the morning, and he takes a sip of orange juice to calm it down.

“Sure,” you ramble onward, tomato flinging around between your fingers as you gesture back and forth, “I mean, most of them liked Cap— golden lion boy and all—hero’s journey kind of thing… I guess I felt, closer to you.”

You exhale deeply, “When you first came to the tower, I thought I was dreaming. Can you imagine? I felt like I was in the sixth grade.”

His brow furrows as he ponders your question. “Is that why you’re so nice to me?” It slips out before he can catch it, but it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

“Probably at first,” You admit with a little shrug, “But eventually the schoolgirl crush thing went away, and I started liking you way more. Genuinely, y’know? Not under the thumb of a paltry, fleeting thing.”

He forgets how unexpectedly introspective you can be.

The tomato in your hand is only a shimmer of juice on your fingers now and you reach for something else to occupy yourself lest you become reduced to just weighing your hands together out of nervousness. You pause when Bucky asks, shocked, “You l-like me?”

Then, a smile, against the warming backdrop, he thinks you look like something out of a painter’s imagination—a delicate page from Steve’s notepad. A gentle breeze picks up your lashes, makes you squint a little.

“Yeah. I like you a lot.”

How does someone say such a heavy thing so easily? Bucky turns hot all over, heart beating too fast from your statement and the coffee made too strongly. “Thank you.”

You laugh and throw your head back for a second before shaking your hair wildly and sitting up, as if you’re discarding something. Light bounces off your cheeks as you catch your breath and take the coffee thermos from him. “You’re welcome, Bucky.” Then, softer, “Look.”

A streak of yellow opens up the sky in the east, melting away the ink around it into flames of blood orange and cerise. Still twinkling are the stars entrenched in deep blue further away.

“I’m not dead anymore.” He states plainly. “I can’t be your deadcrush if I’m not dead anymore.”

A chortle escapes- snorts and scoffs and not at all what he expects when you push your hand to your face and laugh in such a way that he might for a split second find it unattractive. But he doesn’t. He finds it so truly endearing that his heart swells like clouds over the morning sky.

A part of him quiets with the settling feeling of disappointment. Your silence gets swirled around in the next bitter mouthful of coffee and Bucky kicks his heel aimlessly against the concrete rooftop. To his left, you scoot a little closer, reach over and take the thermos from his hand. Your fingers linger, and then you put the container down.

“Bucky,” You say. His name so sweetly rolls off your tongue he can taste it—spun sugar and molasses in his mouth. It’s orange and yellow and blue behind you. Your eyes glisten with promise, as sure as the sunrise.

“You can want things, like love.”

It’s so forthright it punches the air right out of him. Before he knows it, you are leaning forward with a smile, planting a tender kiss on his cheek as he stares on open-mouthed and in awe.

And then, you break the moment with a yawn covered by your hand and groan as fatigue slips over like a blanket. “Oh fuck, I am beat, Sarge. Why’d you let me stay up so late?”

He only smiles before he puts his hand over yours for just a moment. “Come on,” He says, “I’ll help you clean up.” But the moment changes again, and he finds himself crawling past the containers of egg and toast, nearly knocking over the juice to hover over your mouth.

Coffee and cream linger between hesitant lips. Then there is a feverish clash-- you, clambering to sit up, to match him in enthusiasm-- him, bold enough to meet your surge with two large hands. He snakes them around your waist, crushing your torso to his.

Your fingers create a separation between your stomachs as you ruck his shirt up, gripping his chest and back and digging into his shoulder. A sharp breath escapes before he comes to snuff it out, licking your mouth, sucking on your tongue.

“Jesus.” You mutter when you break away for air, eyes still closed, “God. Okay. This is happening.”

Bucky laughs and sits back, places his hand on your bare thigh, shaking his head. “I—yeah, well maybe not here.”

“Yeah- yeah, of course… I .. get so caught up.”

He laughs again, because he knows. It’s why you haven’t slept all night, why you made a feast for just two people watching a sunrise, why you ramble on about the most mundane things but somehow still enrapture him, and it’s why he likes you. Your cheeks burn when the first ray of sunshine shoots over the tree scape.

A ding next to your hand catches his attention—a text from Steve.

You peer at it curiously before opening the message. Bucky looks too, and sees the image of the same sunrise he’s witnessed, but over the familiarity of the East Side sprawl.

A second message appears, Steve grinning, Peter winking.

A third one with a single, cheeky question: You and Buck doin’ good?

Bucky slips his shirt back down his golden torso while you tap out a furious response, groaning at the way you’ve been set up by your friends. Before you can send it, he takes the device from you and places it face-down on the roof with a smile. “Are we?” He asks, suddenly shy. “Doin’ good?”

Quietly, you nod.

In the middle of a second kiss, Bucky knows he’s done for. He’s falling hard and fast and can’t stop.

In the middle of a third kiss, you’re there next to him, all smiles and wonder as the two of you plunge together.

Part 2

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #fanfiction #reader insert #fluff

2K notes · View notes

jimlingss · 5 years ago

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The Colour of Our Voices [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16

➜ Words: 4k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

cr.

Every relationship has its own set of difficulties, its ups and downs. It’s just painful that you can’t be together when you want to. You never knew there’d come a point where your goals, dreams, and ambitions would contend with your relationship. It seems like it’s either one or the other and you don’t know if you can pick — if he would choose what you would. You hope that with time, it’ll pass. You try not to show how hurt you are over the missed date night incident even though it makes you overwhelmingly sad. But you can laugh at it a little when you’re faced with a different kind of reaction instead of sadness — rage. “He fucking forgot?!” Yeonjeon is hysterical and her disgust is practically tangible. “Oh my god. I’m going to kill him.” She gets up, but you pull her arm down with a laugh. Jimin’s at work. She probably wouldn’t know where to look for him even if she tried. “Hey, don’t kill him, I still love him.” “Yeah, and it’s a mistake,” the actress says right out and rolls her eyes. “God, I can’t believe I had a crush on that motherfucker. All men are pigs, aren’t they? What an asshole!” “It was an accident.” You shrug. “Uh-huh. Pathetic is what it is.” “He’s been really tired lately.” “Umm, don’t defend him in my house.” She’s personally offended and is still fuming. “He can’t even remember a date. Does he have one brain cell?” “No. He has at least two,” you giggle. Yeonjeon shakes her head, but softens. Suddenly, she puts her hands on your shoulders, making you look at her. “Listen, Y/N. Just dump Jimin.” Immediately, you burst out laughing. “I love him too much to dump him.” “Well, fame changes people,” she states coldly. “He probably thinks he’s some kind of big shot now because he’s has some stupid role in a movie.” You smile at her sheepishly. It doesn’t seem like fame changed him. More like fame changed his life. It changed yours too — if you could even call it fame. “Anyways, enough about that jerk—” “Yeonjeon,” you warn her with a pout. He’s your boyfriend after all so you’ll defend him till the end. “—how’s your own projects going so far?” “They’re going fine. Rapunzel doesn’t have that many lines and she doesn’t actually sing any lyrics, but in the scenes that she is in, they’re pretty important. I’m having fun. Plus the people there are really nice to work with too.” “You know what?” She snaps her fingers. “Now that I think about it. Rapunzel fits you perfectly.” You laugh at her and she eyes you. “What? It just does.” Someone else had told you that — a boy that you miss dearly.

Jimin’s been having a recurring nightmare recently — one where he’s a four year old again and he’s stacking blocks as high as he can. It doesn’t sound so bad, but always when he has the last block in his hand and goes to top off the tower, he can see it teeter. He knows what’s about to happen, He can see it right in front of him. But no matter what he does, how carefully he deals with the blocks, he can’t stop it from tumbling down. The worst part is knowing the inevitable, but being unable to stop it. To see the collapse before it happens. “Going home already, Park?” The corner of Jungkook’s mouth curls, eyes flickering down to how Jimin’s gathering his belongings. His bag and coat are slung over his arms as if he’s being chased by debt collectors and needs to run out as soon as possible. “Why so soon?” Chanyeol throws his arm around the younger’s shoulder, pulling him in. “I thought we were gonna go out for drinks again tonight.” “I’m good.” Jimin slyly and discreetly moves the actor’s arm off of him. “I think I’m gonna head home early. I’m pretty tired.” “Oh come on. Don’t be a downer. We even have our day off tomorrow. We should celebrate, don’t you think?” Chanyeol grins and looks across the set. “Hey, Director! You want to come with us again?” Yoongi, the camera director looks up from what he’s doing and shrugs. “Sure.” “See? Even Min’s coming. What are you waiting for?” It’s not rare to drink with the other cast members after a long day of filming. Usually outings can range from three to four people to every person on the set. They’re a good bunch but he wishes there weren't so many eyes on him right now. “What else would you be doing at home?” “He’s whipped for some girl at home, that’s why,” Jungkook says with a laugh. “Let him go if he really doesn’t want to come.” “That so?” Chanyeol raises his brows. “You can invite her.” “No, she works fairly early. She’s probably asleep right now.” “Then what are you going home for? Come on,” he insists, and Jimin succumbs to the pressure. // They’re huddled in a private room at the back of the fancy nightclub. It’s exclusive, sofas softer than expected, the back light of the walls creating a sensual ambiance and everything he drinks feels expensive. Jimin guesses this is what fame and fortune buys you. One of the girls working at the nightclub comes over with a tray of drinks, gorgeous with her dress that’s too small and too short, and her cleavage practically spilling out. Chanyeol whistles, tipping her with a pretty bill which she smiles to, and the actor notices the way Jimin diverts his eyes. “This girl of yours must be one hell of a woman,” he comments out of the blue and has Jimin’s eyes widening. “Me?” “Yeah, you, Park. Who else would I be talking about?” The handsome actor laughs boisterously, perhaps having taken one too many drinks. “Apparently they’re neighbours,” Jungkook pipes up, remembering the story Jimin told a few weeks ago. “Oof, brutal.” Chanyeol shakes his head. “If you guys break up, you’re gonna have to definitely move.” “We’re not going to break up,” Jimin instinctively states. It’s almost defensive in a way and he hopes they don’t notice the nervous tick in his fingers. There’s an exchange of expressions around the table. “You’re going to get married to her then?” “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably.” “Ooh, he is whipped,” Chanyeol sing-songs, but it also sounds sharp. Jungkook frowns. “You really want to tie yourself down so soon? I mean, it’s not a bad thing.” “It is a bad thing,” the other actor corrects, “Jimin’s young and good looking. You shouldn’t tie yourself down so early. You haven’t even begun to experience what kind of girls are out there….” Jimin doesn’t say anything. He takes the shot that’s in front of him. It’s bitter in his mouth, disgusting, but he ignores the actual taste to chase after the free feeling it gives him instead. “You’re cute — girls like that sort of thing. Trust me, you’ll be missing out if you tie yourself down now, Park. You have the rest of your life to be serious,” Chanyeol continues before his eyes flicker to the person across from him. “Right, Min?” Yoongi sighs and Chanyeol laughs, explaining, “He’s divorced. His ex-wife’s some critic who runs her own blog. They had to reach a huge settlement and it took two years in court, but get this, she didn’t change her last name back. She kept Min just to fuck with him.” “That’s enough,” Yoongi pipes up, cat-like eyes narrowed in on his drink. He throws it back and exhales afterwards. “I don’t want to talk about it.” The actor smiles, gripping his glass. “I got married to my high school sweetheart, and it’s an absolute nightmare.” Chanyeol grins and shakes his head, lighthearted in the way he talks and it makes Jimin’s own mouth quirk. “She’s bat shit insane.” Jungkook grins. “Didn’t she key your car?” “Broke my windshield too with a fucking brick.” Jimin blinks hard, unable to believe it. “Christ.” “They’re not crazy at the start, trust me. Everything’s always nice at the beginning — everyone’s in love, doesn’t matter that they like to call up their ex, that they want to forgo condoms and skip their birth control….” Jungkook snickers at Chanyeol’s woes and even Yoongi is amused. “I was an idiot, to say the least,” he sighs. “Not that I didn’t have my own problems, but I rushed into it way too quickly. What can you do, right? It would be bearable if not for the nagging.” “This is why I don’t do relationships,” Jungkook comments with his lips tightly drawn in a line. “Smart man.” He lifts his glass and they clink their drinks together. Jimin’s persuaded to take another shot. “Don’t you ever feel held down by her?” Chanyeol asks, smacking his lips. “Doesn’t she nag or anything?” “I wouldn’t say that….” Jimin considers it and his intoxication makes the words slip out recklessly. “She asks where I’m going. She texts me to ask when I’m coming home. She complains when I’m out late...sometimes.” The brunette shrugs. “She just worries about me.” “Sounds like a burden to me,” Chanyeol remarks. Suddenly Yoongi’s silence is broken. His eyes perceive more than they let on. “Does she ever make you feel bad for doing what you want?” “That’s a good point.” Jungkook nods and leans over to look at the brunette, propping his elbow on the table, chin in his hand. “You shouldn’t feel bad about doing what you want.” Jimin remains quiet. He drinks. It’s silent for a while, unsettlingly so and as each person waits for him to answer, Jimin never speaks. He never lifts his eyes away from the table. Chanyeol ends up clearing his throat. “What’s with this somber mood? Let’s change the subject! Come on, I’m getting too sober to be around you ugly motherfuckers. Shots, people!” They clink glasses together, laughing and moving on from the heavy topic of conversation. But they’re unknowing to just how it resonates with Jimin more than it should. He wants to be here — but you make him feel like he should be at home instead. He wants to perform, on screen or on Broadway — but you make him feel bad for being so busy. He loves you, but he feels guilty for your conflicting schedules, for not seeing you enough, even though this is all he’s been dreaming of, this is what he wanted… Jimin drinks and swallows past the thick lump forming in his throat. // The slamming door shakes you from your slumber. You turn around in your sheets, listening to the oncoming stomping footsteps, an irregular pattern instead of a consistent beat as if someone’s stumbling. The bedroom door creaks open and then Jimin dives into the sheets. He opens his arms and falls to his front, his arm hitting your shoulder. “What are you doing?” You rub your eyes and with a sigh, you sit up. You reach over to flicker the bedside lamp on. “Did you drink?” You can smell the alcohol radiating off of him, and it’s stronger than ever before. It’s surprising considering he’s usually a responsible drinker who always knows how to pace himself. One side of Jimin’s face is squished into the sheets, the other facing you. One of his eyes open. The pair of you stare at each other. “I love you.” The words slur and he exhales. “But goddamn ‘s hard sometimes.” You sigh again, getting up to take off his shoes as he lays there. You peel off his socks too, throwing them onto the ground for him to deal with it himself in the morning. “You didn’t even take off your jacket.” At least it’s his day off tomorrow, so he can get plenty of rest and recover — it doesn’t look like he’ll have a pleasant time in the morning. Unfortunately, the case is not the same for you. You have to wake up in three hours, so you’re not impressed to say the least. You climb over top of him, taking off his coat. Jimin’s arms are limp like noodles and he turns his head to stare straight at you. “‘Hy do you make me feel bad…’bout doing what I want, huh?” “What are you talking about, Jimin?” You go to unbutton his stained dress shirt reeking of spilled alcohol, but he abruptly shoves his hands off of him. “‘Could get so many girls….” “You could get so many girls?” Your eyebrow cocks. “Do you want to get girls?” “Dunno.” “Alright, Casanova.” You smile. “Let’s get you changed and to bed, ‘kay?” As you’re unbuttoning his shirt, peaceful silence settles around. Jimin savours the warmth of your hands on his skin, gazing at how your eyes are concentrated but still sleepy, how messy your hair is from twisting in the bed sheets and turning against the pillow. Your edges are soft in the yellow, dim light of the lamp. You’re practically glowing. “’re gonna break up, aren’t we?” The reaction is immediate. Your hands halt. Your lips fall. Your blood runs cold. “What?” “We’re gonna break up,” Jimin says it like he’s announcing it, like he’s decided himself. Your bottom lips tremble, hands quivering, and you quickly get off of him to collect yourself. You want to brush it off that he’s intoxicated, that doesn’t know what he’s saying. But drunk words are sober thoughts. “What are you saying?” “Do you know who I am?” His tongue slurs heavily, syllables melted together, and the man sits up slowly, swaying from side to side. “Who are you?” Your voice cracks against your will, eyes glossy and looking into his. “Cute — ‘Andsome — young — Park J-Jimin…..” He giggles with a finger in the air and he points at you. “‘M missing out by being with you, did ya know that? ‘Nd why do you make me feel guilty for doing what I want, huh? I wanna to go out and party and drink and meet girls and perform, but I gotta go home to you….sucks, man.” “It sucks, huh?” You swallow hard, fist curling tight into the sheets. “So you want to break up with me?” “’Ts gonna end anyways. Look at us.” Jimin falls onto his back again, cozying up in the sheets. “Don’t even see each other anymore.” “So this is it?” You ask again and again, not knowing where this is coming from, unable to believe that it’s happening. “Where else it gonna go?” You’re silent. You remove yourself from him, bringing your shaking hands into your lap. He lays there like a dead body, but he doesn’t fall asleep just yet despite the temptation being so strong. “What happened to the Jimin I first met?” you ask quietly, a mere whisper leaving your parted lips. You don’t know who this arrogant asshole is — a stranger has entered your home. “’S not here no more,” he mumbles, “Fame changed me. ’M not some sad dude pinning after you anymore.” “Go to bed, Jimin,” you spit out the command harsher than you thought was possible. It goes silent and you watch him sprawl in your bed, limbs spread freely and his chest rising and falling as he snores. You reach over to turn off the lamp and grab your pillow, shoving his head off of it. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and try to sleep out on the couch for the remaining hours. But it’s hard when you’re so restless. // The sunlight pierces through the window and into his eyes. He groans, shaken awake and brought to consciousness and to his head throbbing. His head aches and he feels sickly, the world swirling around him. Jimin gets up and stumbles to the bathroom to relieve his bladder. He tries to wash his face afterwards and brush his teeth. When he leaves, he holds onto the door frame to brace himself and he hears noisy clanging in the kitchen that makes him wince. He staggers out, shocked to see you. “What are you doing here?” Jimin’s voice cracks and he moves to get water to quench his painful thirst. Your back stays turned to him. “It’s one in the afternoon,” you state rather coldly, mumbling from the corner of your mouth. “I asked to come home early. I remembered I’m allowed to do that.” He raises a brow and finishes drinking an entire bottle. “Are you still mad at me for forgetting our date night?” It goes quiet. You don’t spare him a glance, simply putting the dishes away. The loud clanging has him flinching. “I already said I’m sorry,” he reasons, “I got you flowers!” You don’t know what he’s talking about and you don’t care to learn. “Y/N.” You came home to talk to him but now that he’s here, you know that you’ll regret what wants to come out. “Y/N.” “Y/N,” Jimin repeats for the third time. He approaches and secures his hands on your shoulders, forcibly turning you around to face him. “Are you ignoring me?” “Don’t touch me.” You shove his hands off of you, stepping back. His eyes frantically search your hurt expression and he’s utterly confused. “Please. Just don’t.” “W-What’s wrong?” “You don’t remember anything about last night?” you ask him, loudly, enough to strain your own voice. Jimin winces again. “Can you not shout at me? I have a headache.” “You said….you wanted to break up with me,” you whisper, unable to believe it yourself. When you say it with your own mouth, it stings and you want to burst out crying. Jimin watches the way your expression crumples and he pales. It slowly comes back to him in waves, vague but he begins to remember bits and pieces, enough to know what he’s done. “Hey.” Jimin reaches out, stepping closer. But he retracts his hand. “I’m sorry.” “You always are.” Maybe it shouldn’t be a big deal. He was drunk, inebriated, not in full control of his words — but to know he was even thinking about it, to know that he’s lined up the reasons for his dissatisfaction with your relationship, to hear it be said aloud, hurts. “I’m sorry. I really am.” He searches the floor and musters the courage to lift his eyes. “You don’t believe me?” “It’s not that I don’t believe you aren’t sorry,” you murmur, “I just think you’re sorry that I know what you think now.” “Oh come on, babe. Y/N.” Jimin follows you to the living room. “I didn’t mean it.” “Really?” You stop on your heel. You hate this — hate being upset and angry, hate feeling at a loss, hate spiraling out of control. “Not the part where you think I’m basically a huge burden to you now? Not the part where you want to get girls and go to parties and how I make you feel bad about doing the things you want? Not the part where you’re no longer pathetic enough to love me? Or what was it that you said, oh yeah, you’re not some sad guy pinning after me anymore.” “I was drunk.” “Were you? Or were they your sober thoughts?” He sighs in frustration. Your loud voice is worsening his headache. And this isn’t what he wanted to do first thing he woke up — he doesn’t want to argue with you. But he doesn’t know how to make it stop. “I think that it’s unfair you’re using this against me when I was wasted.” “You told me that we should break up because we don’t even see each other anymore. Because what else was supposed to happen to us,” you softly whisper, crossing your arms, holding yourself. Now that he can answer clearly, now he’s not drunk anymore, there are no excuses. “So what is that you want from us, Jimin? Do I really make you feel guilty for doing the things you want to do? Is that how you feel about me now?” “No, that’s not it. I’m...I’m sorry.” “You’re selfish,” you say, spitefully. “That’s what you are. Always have been.” Jimin scoffs outright. “Selfish?” “All you think about is yourself. What you want. What you don’t have. What you’re missing out on. You’re supposed to think about the other person in a relationship. We’re supposed to sacrifice, compromise — and you’re not willing to do that. You don’t think about me for a second, Jimin.” “Are you kidding me? I am trying my best! Everything I do is for us and our future together—” “Really? I thought we didn’t have a future in your plans.” He ignores your low jab. “I took care of you when you hated me. How’s that sacrifice for you?” “Well nobody asked! Did they?” “I love you!” Jimin shouts at the top of his lungs, making his throat dry again. “I’ve loved you longer than you loved me. Even when you were jealous of me, when you hated me, I loved you. And I still love you!” “Then why did you tell me that I make you feel bad for doing what you want?!” you’re sobbing as the last word comes out, holding your face in your hands. Guilt swallows him whole. “Because it does. I feel bad that I don’t get enough to spend enough time with you. I feel bad that we’re always waiting for the other person to come home. I feel bad about going out with the cast when I should be having fun and for taking on roles when I know it’ll be time consuming even though that’s been my dream.” You’re sobbing, shaking your head. “W-What do you want me to do?” “I don’t know.” He can’t find a solution, and he’s most certainly not going to make you give up your dream. Jimin’s not going to ask or make you do anything. Everything caused by ill timing. Caused by stress. What’s the point of being in a relationship when you can’t even see each other? It always seems like you have to choose each other or choose your ambitions. Jimin wants to say boldly that he’ll figure it out with you — that he’ll find a way to do both. He wants to hug you, to embrace you, let you cry into his shoulder as he makes more meaningless apologies. He wants to say that with time, it’ll pass, that your schedules will clear up, that the pair of you will overcome this obstacle. But he can’t bring himself to say it or to step forward. “Maybe we should take a break.” You’re taken aback. A break? So he can do whatever he wants and thinks he can still have you? “What’s that supposed to mean?” “I don’t know,” Jimin admits. “I think we just need some time away from each other to figure this out.” Without the obligation of having to see you, of having to maintain this relationship, the guilt would disappear. Maybe neither of you would have to feel so bad about yourselves. But you persist in your questions. “Figure what out? Us?” Jimin’s frustrated at why you don’t understand. “Well if you don’t like it, then maybe we should just cleanly break it off with one another. If that makes more sense to you.” “Fine,” you hiss out of unadulterated spite. His eyes widening, mouth dropping open. He’s shocked at your quick answer. Jimin’s rendered speechless, breathless. “F-Fine then…” “Get out of my apartment, Jimin.” You sniffle with your chest heaving. He can’t believe it’s happening. Everything in his mind screams for him to stop, but his body moves on its own. Then the door slams shut.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts jimin fanfic #bts jimin fluff #bts jimin #jimin reader insert #jimin scenario #jimin fanfic

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tryingtobeclassy · 5 years ago

Text

choi san . . . how real is your love : part I

part ii.

genre: San x female!reader, college au

description: While trying to get rid of an obnoxious ex you end up in a sort of unusual situation. A fake relationship. With none other than the biggest player on the campus - San.

word count: 4.3 k

warnings: swearing, alcohol

. . . . .

“Okay.”

…

“Yes. Alright.”

…

“Just fuck off.”

You finally ended the call and for a few seconds just stared at your phone feeling the anger still going up inside of you. Absolutely furious after the conversation, you slammed the notebook you were holding into the floor and giving yourself the freedom of letting out a scream as you thought you were the only one in the college hallway at that moment.

Turns out you were wrong.

“You good?” a male voice asked you, making you freeze in your spot. Anger washing away as embarrassment replaced it.

You turned around to see a guy sitting on the bench under the window, a somewhat worried expression on his face. You immediately recognized who it was and felt even more like just dying in the spot and letting the bugs eat your body. There probably wasn’t a single girl on campus who didn’t know who he was. Probably one of the best-looking men you ever had the chance to see up close and everyone seemed to agree.

San. From all the people who it could’ve been behind you, it just had to be San.

“I’m,, fine”, you barely pushed words out of you as your mind was in chaos.

It wasn’t even because you had a crush on him or anything. You kind of settled with the fact you’ll never get a chance to kiss him or anything despite his growing reputation of a player, you just didn’t think an average you would get to beat some other way prettier, but also pushier girls on campus. But you also didn’t want to just be one of the many on his list. It wasn’t really worth it. Your sudden lack of knowledge on how a human should hold a conversation was more because of how truly gorgeous this man was that it felt almost intimidating talking to him, but also because everyone freaking knew him, it felt like talking to a goddamn celebrity. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself, but of course when you don’t want that, it’s when your brain usually collapses to only a few last braincells.

“That was some intense phone call”, he commented, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips.

As he mentioned the call, all the anger suddenly starts piling up again and your face instantly frowns. “Yeah… I guess some exes just like to be unnecessarily intense.”

…..

“Come on, babe. Just come to the party it will be fun”, your ex, Jonah, insisted on the other side of the phone.

“Three things. I said no. Don’t call me babe. And for the love of god, stop calling me!”

“Give me one good reason.”

You roll your eyes so hard they could’ve gotten stuck at the back of your skull. He truly was as persistent as a cockroach. It’s been a few weeks since you broke up with him and since then he never stopped being obnoxious and trying to convince you that you did a mistake and how you two were actually meant for each other.

“I have a boyfriend”, you suddenly lied. You didn’t really think too much about it, but as you said it, you didn’t regret it. You even thought it might actually be a solution to your troubles.

There was a short moment of silence from the other side before Jonah finally replied, “Oh really?” At the same time he sounded pissed as well as not really believing you. “Bring him as well then.”

Well shit. Gotta try and figure a way out of that one.

“Why the hell would I bring my current boyfriend to an ex’s party?”

“Because it’s a hot party everyone from campus would like to go to”, he said while sounding completely full of himself.

You sometimes really didn’t know what you saw in that douchebag.

“And also because I ain’t buying that crap”, he added.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you.”

“I’m guessing you’re saying that because he doesn’t really exist.”

You were angry by that point, but now you could just feel your body heat up from the amount that was building up. You knew you didn’t have to prove anything. In normal circumstances he would’ve backed up by now. Hell, in normal circumstance you wouldn’t even be having this conversation, but something inside you felt like this might actually be the solution. Even though a bad one. Just as bad as the whole idea.

“Fine”, you say aggressively, “I’m coming to your stupid party.”

“And your little imaginary boyfriend as well.”

“Okay.”

“Ten o’clock.”

“Yes. Alright.”

“Try not to lose him by then since he is invisible after all.”

“Just fuck off.”

…..

You somehow ended up telling San the entire story once he got curious and said he had experience with crazy exes and he might be of help when it comes to advice. So it was one of those ‘why the hell not’ moments. It’s not like you get to lose anything. He’ll know some personal info about you, but you’ll live. You might even get some piece of advice that could actually be helpful.

“That’s rough”, he says after listening to your story.

You felt good after venting to him for a bit. Feeling all the anger slowly calming and your mind not being set into ‘smash anything in sight to feel better’ mode.

“Yeah well, now I have three more days to find a fake boyfriend.”

“Have any plans?” he asked, looking insanely invested into the drama of your life. As if he’s watching a movie going live in front of him.

“I had a short thought that I could take my friend, but Jonah already knows him. He’s not stupid enough to believe it.” You let out a deep sigh, feeling annoyed from the situation you got yourself in. “Don’t really have a plan B yet.”

“I can act as your fake boyfriend if you want to”, he suddenly said. Just throwing that offer on the table. There. It’s here. What you gonna do about it?

“What? Are you serious?” you got extremely confused by how quickly he offered that and because of the fact he actually did.

He just shrugged his shoulders as if he just offered you to keep a pen you borrowed or something. No big deal for him. “Why not?”

You suddenly got really suspicious. “What’s in it for you?” you asked while squinting at him.

“I want twenty bucks…”

Sounds like a reasonable price.

“…and I want us to go to this one pizzeria near campus one Friday evening cause then they have a couples offer where you get free drinks.”

That one’s kinda unusual, but okay. Doable.

“You want to act as a fake couple just to get a free drink?” you asked, a bit of judgement crawling into your voice.

“I want to feel the satisfaction of getting something free. And doing something illegal.”

“I really don’t think fake dating to get a drink is against the law, but sure we can do that”, you said while doing your best not to laugh at someone who just offered his help. “Is that all?”

San seemed to think about it for a second before adding one last thing, “I want you to come to a family dinner.”

“Uh, why?”

“I have an older sister who constantly fucking ridicules me how I need to stop messing around with so much girls and try and be serious for once.”

“Kinda stupid. You’re like twenty. If you ain’t gonna mess around now, when will you?”

“That’s what I told her”, he yelled being all dramatic over it. “But yeah, those are my terms. We gonna do it or no?”

He suddenly turned serious starring at you with those dreamy eyes of his and you suddenly got hit with realization that the most desired guy on campus offered to be your fake boyfriend. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about it, but one thing you were sure about is that once Jonah sees him, he’s gonna get jealous. As in jealous. And that moment is the satisfaction you want.

“It’s a deal”, you say as you shook his hand, a smirk forming on your lips.

“How about we write a contract?” he suggests. “I want to have it written that you owe me money.”

You rolled your eyes, but still agreed because of which you ended at the nearest café. It was late afternoon by that time so the café was pretty empty. Everyone was either already done with classes or currently in one so it felt pretty peaceful as you drank you black coffee and kept writing down the discussed terms.

In the end the contract said:

This is a contract between San and y/n who have agreed to fake a relationship. Their fake relationship will be built on a few rules:

1. San has to go to Jonah’s party with y/n

2. y/n owes San 20$, a pizza date and attendance at one of his family dinners

3. If needed the relationship may last longer

4. neither side is allowed to have any other relationships during this one

San wasn’t too happy about the last one, but as you assured him this entire act most definitely won’t last long, you both ended up singing it so it was officially settled. You stayed in the café for a little while longer just talking for a bit, getting to know each other a bit better. To your surprise, San wasn’t really what you imagined he’d be. He wasn’t all that full of himself or cocky and annoying for someone who was so popular and wanted. He was definitely confident, but he also had a somewhat softer side that only showed up for a second when he excitedly talked about a plush he sleeps with, but he immediately after changed the topic and asked you for your discretion and not to tell anyone at which you just laughed.

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe.”

Once you both finally finished the coffee, it was time to finally go home and prepare for tomorrow’s classes. Leaving the café, you said your goodbyes and prepared to go each in their own direction. But just as you wanted to turn around and leave, San suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to himself, your lips crashing against each other. You felt like your entire body decided to stop working, like your heart stopped beating and your lungs stopped taking in air, the moment you felt his soft lips against your own. His other hand wandered behind your neck as he deepened the kiss for a moment before letting you go.

“What the hell was that?” you scream at him completely flustered while his lips just turned into a shape of a satisfied smirk.

“I wanted you to know what it’s like to kiss me”, he said as if it’s the most obvious thing. “It would’ve been suspicious if I kissed you for the first time in front of someone and you got all embarrassed and weird.”

“I’m not embarrassed and weird”, you complain despite feeling your face turning as red as a tomato.

“Whatever you say, babe”, he said through a smirk, putting weird emphasis on the word babe.

You wanted to yell something back at him, but thought it would probably be better to just leave it and finally go home. The dorms weren’t that far away from the café, but instead of going to your own room, you set off to a different floor and knocked on a door that didn’t belong to you. Few seconds later, Yunho opened.

“You won’t believe the day I had”, you said as you let yourself in and plopped down on his bed.

Luckily his roommate wasn’t there so you could freely tell all about your dramatic day to your friend.

“I literally feel like you won’t believe me.”

“What happened?” Yunho asked, sounding only half interested as he was occupied with a cup of instant ramen on his desk.

“I got myself a fake boyfriend.”

That sentence alone was enough to get his full attention. “I’m sorry, what?”

“And the wildest part is”, you stopped for a second to make a dramatic pause even starting to swing around with your hands, “it’s San.”

“You’re right, I don’t believe you”, was the only thing Yunho said after that.

You started to explain him the story from beginning to end. The phone call with Jonah, how San saw your angry tantrum and how it led to making a pact with his to have a fake relationship. Even the unexpected kiss at the end.

“Is he as good of a kisser as everyone says?” Yunho asked as his eyebrows were wiggling playfully.

You rolled your eyes for a moment. “I mean, you know. He’s decent”, you said trying to act cool.

“You think it will work?” he asked finally.

“I don’t think Jonah is smart enough to realize it so, yeah, I think it will work.”

You two talked for a little while longer before it was seriously about time you go to your own room and prepare for tomorrow.

You tried to occupy your mind with studying and all the college stuff you had to take your mind away from the party and Jonah, but also away from San as well. As much as you hated to admit it, you were kinda excited to act as his girlfriend. Not many girls manage to get that so you did feel a little bit special, even if it was all fake.

The three days went by too fast and it was already the day of the party. You haven’t seen San ever since the day you made the contract. Only texted to agree on a place and time of meeting each other. You were getting kind of nervous as you were rummaging through your closet. With a hot boyfriend, you wanted to look just as hot and not like some kind of gremlin next to him, so a seriously good outfit was needed. When you almost gave up on deciding on what to wear cause nothing seemed good enough and right after you threw yourself on the bed with an extremely loud and dramatic sigh, your roommate, Liv, exited the bathroom and found you in your despair.

“Still haven’t figured out an outfit?” she asked.

You let out a whiny ‘no’ to which she just laughed teasingly before opening her own part of the closet. “I can lend you one of my dresses.”

You immediately jumped in your spot as that was a wonderful idea. Liv had way more style than you and putting on any of her nice ass dresses will for sure make you look bomb.

“I think you should go for a classic nice black dress”, she commented while going through the hangers with clothes, you still just seated on the table as if you’re five years old again and waiting for your mom to pick an outfit for you.

With both of your strengths combined, you managed to make you look just like your goal was - hot as fuck. So you were finally ready. Liv was also going to the same party, but somehow she always starts getting ready when these kinds of things already start and shows up two hours late, but that’s fine. She wasn’t your concern right now. You were more worried about the actual party and how things will go. Will Jonah really believe your fake relationship? Well, there was only one way to find out.

You met with San on a little square nearby the house. In some nice pants and a simple shirt that he tucked in he looked casual, but still like he could walk the runway any moment. When you got close enough to him, he gave you a subtle scan from head to toe and added a nice compliment, “you look hot.”

“Thank you”, you said while flipping your hair like some kind of diva, but still felt your cheeks heating up a bit. “You look pretty nice too.”

The two of you had a nice little chat as you were walking towards the house. San turned out to be someone really easy to talk to. You somehow never had an awkward silence to get between you and the conversation would constantly just keep flowing. Something you didn’t expect, but you actually enjoyed talking to him. You always kind of had a prejudice that he would be insanely boring or that you just wouldn’t have any common topics to discuss. But turns out you were wrong.

“You ready?” he asked when you were so close to the house, you could hear the music blasting.

He slid his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to himself to which you almost let out a surprised squeal, but thankfully it managed to stay inside of you.

“I hope so”, you said as you could feel your heart start to beat up and it was hard to tell if the reason was San’s arm or the fact you’re about to face Jonah.

You were about half an hour late, but to your surprise the party already picked up. Music was so loud, you could barely hear anyone talk in certain parts of the house. Some people already managed to get drunk. And it was already so crowded that it was hard to move. You and San split up for a few moments since he settled for beer that was in the kitchen, but you wanted to find something stronger to get you through this night. And just as you were mixing yourself a drink, you felt a hand on your back. At first you thought it was San who came back after getting his beer, but unfortunately you found yourself face to face to Jonah. Already. And you couldn’t even get a drink to make all of this a tad bit more tolerable.

“Well, hey there, babe. I couldn’t help but notice that you’re alone”, he said, the nastiest smirk forming on his face.

“How many times do I have to repeat not to call me babe, asshole?” you asked, anger getting into your voice as you seriously weren’t having it.

“That’s harsh”, he said in a mocking kind of way. “So where’s this boyfriend of yours?”

He really wasn’t wasting no time before getting straight to the point, but it wasn’t enough to make you lose your cool.

“He went to get a beer.”

“How convenient.”

He seemed so full of himself. You could tell he was so convinced you were lying and probably convinced he’d have you in his arms again by the end of the night. An absolute idiot if he really did think you’d stoop so low.

He continued teasing you, subtly implying the whole time how your boyfriend story was obviously fake and you were just about to say something when San suddenly showed up next to you, sliding his arm over your shoulder and surprising you with a short kiss when you turned your head to look at him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, sweetheart”, he said casually before turning to face the man in front of you.

Your entire body felt like it was on fire for a second and you had to quickly collect yourself not to seem suspicious in front of Jonah.

“Who’s your friend?” asked San, despite being well aware of Jonah since you showed him pictures to be prepared.

“Not a friend”, you said, trying to make your voice sound as cold as possible.

The look on Jonah’s face was exactly what you hoped for and was the only thing you looked forward to that night. Complete surprise as he stared at San not knowing what to even say.

“This is the boyfriend you were so eager to meet, San”, you said with a mocking tone in your voice. “And San, this is my ex Jonah.”

“Oh, dude, sorry didn’t want to make it weird”, San immediately said and pulled his arm away trying to look like a decent guy who doesn’t want any trouble. “I’m gonna go dancing, so just find me after, okay?” he added and disappeared.

You were once again left with Jonah, but at this moment, you weren’t the slightest mad about it as Jonah still didn’t quite know what to say.

“Can you finally leave me alone now?” you asked while crossing your arms on your chest.

“San?” he asked with the most confused and almost angry look on his face. “From all the guys on the campus, how the fuck did you get him?”

“Are you saying I’m not good enough for him?” you asked and tried to seem mad although it was fairly amusing for you.

“I’m just confused.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is jealous.”

He let out a loud pfft to try and make you think how that was the most absurd thing you could’ve said. “Sure thing”, he said sarcastically before just walking away without another word.

Mission accomplished.

With a satisfied grin on your face you went to find San.

“How did it go?” he asked enthusiastically when you found him.

“Perfect. He looked like a little kid about to throw a tantrum and it was beautiful.”

San answered with a soft laugh, two cute dimples showing up that you didn’t notice before.

“I didn’t really have a plan from this point on”, you admitted.

He took a few gulps of his beer as he got lost in thought. “We definitely can’t break up after tonight, it would be too soon and suspicious.”

You kinda didn’t hate the idea of fake dating San for a bit longer, but you tried to play it as cool as possible. “You’re probably right. Jonah is an idiot, but I don’t think he’s an idiot of such a scale.”

“Well… Let’s not worry about him anymore and just have a good night. How about that, babe?” he asked and shoot you a playful smile.

“Sounds good to me.”

The rest of the night went great. You finally got your hands on a drink and the moment you stopped thinking too much about Jonah and how this whole situation you got yourself into is quite odd, it got even better. San was extremely flirty the entire night. You were showered with attention, compliments and soft touches. It all felt a bit too real at some points. He even introduced you to his best friend Wooyoung as your girlfriend and didn’t give any further explanation.

“Who would’ve thought you’d actually stick with only one girl”, Wooyoung teased him a bit.

He was quite a character. Very charismatic, but also very funny and silly – almost like a little boy.

“Anyway, I don’t feel like third wheeling any longer so you two have fun”, he said. San tried to convince him to stay a bit longer, but soon enough you two were left alone.

Well not really alone. There was still a bunch of people around you in the hallway just trying to get away from the loud music for a second. And as it seems some people you didn’t want there as well.

“Okay, don’t look, but your little ex has been sort of following us half of the night”, San said as he subtly eyed one end of the hallway where Jonah probably was.

“Jesus, I thought I was crazy when I kept seeing him”, you said as you rolled your eyes, anger once again crawling back into your voice.

You were about to say something else, but you were surprised by San suddenly leaning a lot closer to you. You were already standing with your back against the wall and once he leaned his forearm on the wall above you and leaned forward, the space between you was almost non-existent.

“I’m pretty sure I know how to get him away.”

He was so close you could feel his breath on you and it made your body heat up once again that night. Before you could even say anything he moved into a short kiss. It was so short, you weren’t even sure whether it happened and once it was over he moved a few inches, just enough to see your expression, as if he was evaluating your reaction.

“Is that all you got?” you suddenly asked, confidence you didn’t know you got pilling up inside you and a playful smile stretching on your lips.

He didn’t give you what would be considered a usual answer. But instead you were met with his lips once again as this time he wasn’t holding back. They were soft and tasted like alcohol. He grabbed you by your waist to pull you even closer to him that you could feel his entire torso pressed against yours and a wave of heat suddenly washed over you. Your hands wandered around his neck and into his hair. It was soft. So incredibly soft.

You don’t know how long you stayed like that. You were completely immersed into the moment. Kissing him felt like nothing ever before. It felt so passionate. Like all he wants is to keep you in his arms and kiss you forever.

Once the kiss broke and you both gasped for air, you just let out a half awkward laugh and lightly smacked him on the chest.

“Not bad for the biggest player on the campus.”

You stayed at the party for a little while longer before complete tiredness got the better of you and you made your way home. The rest of the night and probably the whole weekend, you spent in constantly thinking about it. About Jonah, about San. Especially about San and this whole fake relationship that he really devoted himself to the part. You weren’t sure what to think of it, but one thing was for sure. You can’t catch feelings. And that’s final.

#i got the second part done i just gotta proof read it #so yeet it should be out soon #san #choi san #ateez san #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez au #college au #san college au #san fanfic #san x reader #ateez x reader #san fluff

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colorfullfalls · 5 years ago

Text

Warm me up

Embry Call x Reader

Between Forks and La Push, supernatural occurances were constant. Vampires, wolves, but the new visitors were witches. A coven of witches moved directly between Forks and La Push, which created a massive headache for the Cullen's and Quileutes.

The witches were unpredictable and everyone seemed weary about them. The imprints were strictly told to steer clear of them. Worry coursed through the wolves veins as the thought of the love of their lives being magically hurt in any way.

Y/N was bored. Embry was patrolling a lot lately for the Black Pack due to the additional supernatural beings. She admired his dedication and hours upon hours protecting the people. But she missed him. And even more so, she was bored.

"Sweetheart, please don't go anywhere without someone who is.. well... A wolf or vampire. It sounds dumb but we aren't sure with what we are dealing with."

Embry's honest genuine worries flowed through her brain every time she thought about saying fuck it and leaving the small house.

She watched movies, cleaned again and again, organized a thousand times, played with the dogs in the yard, danced in the kitchen, painted and even sewed. Still, she yearned to actually go out in public. Walmart roaming at 2 am seemed like an absolute dream, but Embry would go into cardiac arrest if you went there, let alone so late.

He always claimed that late nights made people lonely and that led to them doing bad shit. He was so paranoid that you would fall victim to someone's boredom gone wrong. He loved Y/N more than the world and God, he wanted to shelter her and keep her safe.

The imprints were alright with doing whatever their wolves said. Stay inside- they did. Don't talk to the cullens- they did. But Y/N was not like that. She was stubborn as a mule, and Embry knew better than to try to treat her like that. She was a free woman who refused to bend to whatever others wanted.

Embry grew up respecting women. Growing up with his mom made him realize how strong women are. Tiffany didn't need a man's presence, money, or help to raise her son. He knew felt proud to have his mom. He loved her almost as much as he loved Y/N. Which is an insane amount considering Y/N was his life.

Sitting on the counter with Embry standing between her legs, she knew shit was serious. His wide brown eyes held sorrow and fear as he explained how dangerous the witches could potentially be. And that he knew she hated trying to be told what to do, but she would save him loads of worrying if she would please listen.

Y/N solemnly agreed because she knew that this matter was serious. What she didn't realize was that he would be absent so much. She missed him. Having him home would make the time fly by. His very presence was all that she needed. Craved it.

Y/N had a sudden idea. Having a hammock would be nice. Two beautiful oak trees rooted close by would be a wonderful place to hang one. She could read on it, paint on it, and stare at the sky for hours. She blushed as images of her and embry on it ran through her mind.

Leaving was a bad idea. Her mind said, no. Be smarter than that. Her heart said that she wanted that hammock and needed it. She bit her lip as she glanced at the clock. Embry wouldn't even know. Y/N decided she would lie and say she had the thing all along if he were to ask about it.

That's it, she was going. She went, got it, and felt great. Happy. Fulfilled. Excited to put it up.

She was halfway home when her car slowly halted. Gas pedal was down but the car was not moving.

"What the fuck?!" She stated, hitting the gas pedal a few times. Y/N groaned as she threw her head back. If she wasn't home soon she would be found by a very angry and dissapointed wolf. A metaphorical dog house, ironically.

Tapping left to her head made Y/N jump, screams rippling out of her throat. Hand on her throat in surprise she turned.

Gorgeous piercing green eyes looked expectantly at her. Tattoos spread down her arms, but they were almost unnoticeable due to the black hair cascading over them. Y/N swore that she never saw such beautiful hair before.

The woman had a calm look on her face, but she was intimidating none the less. She opened the car door and all Y/N could do was watch as her heart beat out of her chest.

"Wolf girl.... Could sense you miles away." She said, leaning on the door.

"Im- uh- hah, I'm not a wolf..." Y/N stammered, clinging to her seat belt in fear. Embry was for sure going to scold her for hours now.

"An imprint, whatever. You have association with them. It's simple. See, you came from La Push, their territory. No one goes there really. So you're a wolf girl one way or the other."

Y/N sheepishly nodded, glancing away from the woman and to her phone. Maybe if she got ahold of Embry he could save her before anything happened. Her hand twitched to grab it but suddenly she gasped, crippling pain invading her body.

Y/N cried out in pain as she sank into the seat. An instant headache crept up the back of her head as tears spilled.bShit shit shit. This witch meant business, and wasn't scared to use powers already.

Flame like feeling stopped and Y/N gasped for breath in her driver seat. She hit the steering wheel a few times in frustration.

"God, maybe use your words next time?" Y/N venomously spat, glaring at the green eyes witch.

"Waste of my breath, hun. Girl talk isn't girl talk if you call your wolf man."

"Don't want girl talk." Y/N mumbled, still calming down from being hurt. She didn't want to anger her but sometimes it was hard to bite her tongue.

"Let's cut to the chase. You need to tell the wolves to lay off. Stop pacing around our area. Witch business is none of their concern" The witch knelt down and got closer to Y/N's face.

"Tell them that... You think they listen to me? Sure, I'm an imprint and I can voice my opinion, but the pack does as it chooses. I have no power over them." Y/N softly said.

"Seduction. You own your wolf. I'm familiar with how imprinting works. You control this man's life! So don't give me that 'I can't control anything' speech. You can and will relay the message."

Anger coursed through Y/N's veins. How dare the asshole witch act like Y/N can just suck off Embry and then he does whatever she says? He didn't own her, and she didn't own him. Insinuating that Embry was Y/N's toy made her want to scream. She kept calm and shook her head.

"You're oh so wrong..." Y/N mumbled shaking her head, "You should've talked to them because Embry is not going to be happy when he finds out you did this. Infuriated, actually."

"Wow, so Embry is his name? It's a handsome one, truth be told." The witch stood back up.

"Don't."

The witch's tongue poked out to wet her lips before she spoke in a scary calm tone, "Do as I say...you'll live. Simple. task. Look, I'm not stupid, I would never face a wolf alone and right now I'm the only one home. But you see, 'm getting rather fed up with all the sneaking around our place. I'm actually angrier than I thought...."

"shit" Y/N whispered

The witch looked at Y/N thoughtfully, "Maybe if I hurt you a bit, they would get the hint..."

Y/N shook her head, "You said you know about imprinting, but obviously not enough because going after a wolf is idiotically stupid. They're sacred. Not to be messed with. They would die for us."

At that moment snarking was heard. Y/N felt a tear of happiness roll down her cheek as she felt relief rush through every cell in her body like a river that had been dammed up. Embry was about to save her ass.

The witch jumped around in time to see Embry approach. She flicked her wrist as if to hurt him the way she hurt Y/N, but she was quickly jumped on by Bella. Bella choked her so that she would pass out.

Jacob ran out of the woods to help Bella tie up the woman's arms and legs. Embry shifted back, scrambling to throw on shorts and racing to your side.

His hands grasped her face as he checked her for any injuries. His stony expression broke as he cried out in relief, kissing Y/N's face all over.

"Baby, thank God we found you!" Em exclaimed, hugging her to his chest. Tears flowed down her face. That witch scared the daylight of out Y/N, and Embry saved her life.

°°°°

Hours later Embry sat with his chin on the edge of the bathtub while his lovely imprint sat inside of it. Bubbles filled the area up to her chest. Embry's heightened eyes couldn't see anything besides her shoulders and head. Her hair sat delicately in a bun to avoid getting damp.

Embry smiled smittenly at how pretty she looked in the candle light. Her doe eyes stared back at him equally lovingly. She blushed, looking away and sinking deeper into the water.

Baths always made her feel better, and after the day the imprint had, she needed one. As soon as they got home Embry ran the water and helped her in.

50's music softly played through the bluetooth speaker as the couple shared such an intimate moment.

Embry interlocked one of his hands with his imprint's soapy ones, "Thought I was gonna lose you today..." He murmured, brining the interlocked hands up so that he could kiss hers.

"For a while there, me too..."

Embry whimpered and kissed her hand a few times to center himself. Seeing that witch in front of his soulmate awakened things inside of him that he never knew he had in him.

He wanted to rip the witch's limbs slowly one by one, her screams echoing through the land. He wanted the witch bitch to beg for mercy and apologize relentlessly until her last breathe. But then his eyes moved to his scared girlfriend, and all he thought about was getting to her as soon as he could. Holding her in his strong arms and assuring her that all would be okay.

"Talked to Jake and I'm not patrolling for a while. Can't leave you again." He said with every fiber of his heart.

Y/N nodded, understanding that his inner wolf was still going crazy from the danger she had been in. She felt guilty for being dumb enough to leave the house over a hammock.

"Thank you for not yelling at me. I deserve it, like big time. I went to buy a fucking hammock. All of this, over a fun outside prop..." Y/N ranted, angry with herself.

"I was going to, but three seconds after I realized you were in danger... Scolding you was the last thing on my mind. Telling you to stay home and then never being there was hard on you, I get that. I'm sorry." He confessed.

Embry blamed himself. He knew Y/N hated being at home and with him not being there, she would hate it even more. His Y/N was a social woman and restricting that wasn't right. Not without him keeping her company.

"Apology isn't necessary, but thank you. Im a grown woman who should have more common sense."

A comfortable silence settled over the pair. Embry stroked his thumb across her hand as her eyes fluttered shut. She was tired and he could tell.

"Love bug, why don't we dry you off and go to bed? We could both use sleep, hmm?"

She sleepily nodded.

Ten minutes later Embry spooned Y/N, squeezing her close as he could without hurting her. He felt her body shake a bit. Concern filled his face as he lifted up to look at her through the moon light.

"Y/n?"

She turned and instead of crying, she was laughing. Laughing so hard that her body was shaking. Embry slightly smiled, unaware of how to react.

"I bought a hammock today. I risked my life... For a hammock. But hey," she laughed harder, "now we can use it whenever. Because we have so much time alone. Trapped here."

Embry now grinned. He knew she was delirious and tired, but he thought it was cute, "We can lay in it tomorrow, all day. Just us." He whispered, nuzzling his nose agaisnt her cheek.

Y/N stopped laughing, "Id like nothing more. I'm so in love with you," she whispered suddenly serious. He felt his heart flutter as her lips brushed against his. He lost his breath as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

"Tease" he mumbled, caressing her face to bring her in for a propper kiss. She hummed as she pulled her wolf closer to her, drugged by his closeness. His warm body heat made her toasty as he slipped his tongue in her mouth. She slightly pulled away.

"Warm me up, wolf boy." She said, kissing him once again. Embry almost lost his Y/N, but God was she alive with him at 2 am. Very alive.

#embry call imagine #embry call #twilight imagine

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mateoweston · 4 years ago

Text

LIKE A CANDLE IN A WINDOW → HEADCANON

who: mateo weston, rory flanagan (@switch-it-up-rory)

when: march 6th, 2021

where: mateo’s room

warnings: feelings!!

Mateo Weston

"I'll have to swing by your work sometime this week," Mat mused, absently tapping through his Netflix library in a half-hearted attempt at finding a movie to put on. Mostly, he was trying to distract himself for at least a moment because he kept catching himself staring at Rory for just a second too long. Maybe some ridiculous comedy show would do the trick and keep him on track until Wednesday. This weekend was supposed to help him calm down so he could be calm, cool and collected when he smoothly told Rory about his feelings over perfectly made stir fry on Wednesday, god damn it. "I've never actually had a smoothie from there and I feel like I gotta change that."

Rory Flanagan

Rory was aware of how comfortable he had made himself on Mateo's bed, settled in as if he himself was part of the furniture, watching the Dominant's hands intently as he scrolled through Netflix, though Rory struggled to concentrate on his good days, never mind when he was this close to the one person he felt like he couldn't have. "They're not that great," He replied, though he felt like his mouth had disconnected from his brain, "Like I'm sure they just shot whatever's closest to them in. I'd just get like a coffee."

Mateo Weston

Laughing to himself, Mat shifted to shoot a look back at Rory who looked way too comfortable and natural cozied up in his bed. It was his fault, really. With his stupid face and stupid smile and the stupid way his dumb hair flopped in his face every now and then. "You're a great spokesperson," he managed after a moment, raising an eyebrow at the other. "They have you outside the store, advertising like that?"

Rory Flanagan

Rory noticed Mat glancing at him, and shot a wink in his direction. "I mean if I were going to be the face of any company, I don't think it'd be The Wave. My allegience is to to Golden Arches, obviously," He mentioned, daring himself to shift closer to Mat, to just be in touching distance. "But I do think me standing otuside with one of those signs would pull in customers. Raw sex appeal and all tha'."

Mateo Weston

His head shook fondly at the mention of McDonalds -- that whole concept still seemed like a fever dream to him that he tried to only acknowledge half of the time. Feeling Rory shift a bit closer, his eyes remained stubbornly on his Laptop even though he'd stopped actually reading any of the names or descriptions a while ago and instead focused entirely of the warmth of Rory radiating against his bare arm. God, this was ridiculous. "Think I'd get a discount for being the first customer?"

Rory Flanagan

Rory frowned slightly when he noticed Mat hover over some terrible chick flick, wondering briefly if the other man had officially lost his marbles. He also thought about taking overthe Netflix selection, but he didn't want to be too obvious in his excuses to simply touch the Dominant. "I mean I'd give you a discount any day, you just have to come in when I'm on shift." Rory told him, honestly.

Mateo Weston

"Oooh, that sounds special treatment to me," Mat hummed, maybe a little high on the proximity as he looked back again, a little distracted by how much closer Rory seemed now than the last time he'd looked at him. His gaze lingered this time, because apparently Rory was now also capable of hypnotising him or something. "Whatever did I do to deserve that?"5. März 2021

Rory Flanagan

Rory scoffed at Mat's light teasing, the words that he wanted to say to the Dom dying on his lips as quickly as they formed, so he shrugged and laughed again. "You feed me and entertain me. I imagine if the gremlins had part time jobs, they'd give those who got them wet and fed them after midnight a bit of special treatment too." He settled for, glancing up at him, feeling weirdly exposed that Mat was right there. Staring. He couldn' think for a moment, just looking up at his stupid face that made Rory catch stupid feelings for this stupid man. "But, uh, who knows. You might get a free smoothie I spat in or something." He tried, though it seemed to fall flat to his ears.

Mateo Weston

A slow, absent grin had spread across Mat's face as he listened. A small part of his brain was aware of how fucking done for he was, considering he was sitting here entirely charmed by talk of spit smoothies, but the bigger part was extremely distracted by that very thing. Rory's stupid pretty face and the stupid charming things he says and how he seems to be able to get under his skin without even trying. How him sitting so close made his skin prickle with heat and his mouth go a little dry. So it took a moment for his brain to recognise his own voice when he spoke. "You're so fucking cute."

Rory Flanagan

It was like everything stopped when the words had left Mateo's mouth. It wasnt like he hadn't complimented Rory before, but never cute, never in that tone of voice. He rasied an eyebrow at the Dominant, trying to work out the game, or the joke, but couldn't sense anything in the other man's facial expressions or the way he spoke. A little voice in Rory's brain, a semblane of hope he thought died long ago from the drugs and the drink, told the Switch this was the proof he needed that Mateo actually liked him, in the way he wanted him to, and he wondered if he dared put the feelers out, to see where this could head. "Aye, so I've been told," He said, after what felt like hundreds of years, "But I guess it, uh, takes a cutie to know one." The delivery couldn't have been lamer, but he felt suddenly sweaty and self-conscious. "I am like, being serious, you're cute too." He mumbled.

Mateo Weston

Where Mat's heart had been pounding a tad faster before, it seemed to straight up drop into his stomach once his brain caught up with his mouth. His eyes widened in realisation and he was about to back-track, cover up what he'd just said -- but he decided against it. It was out now and evidence suggested he was terrible at keeping this a secret anyway so maybe it was worth just seeing what would happen. The long stretch of silence that followed didn't help his nerves though and he almost considered changing the topic anyway. And then Rory spoke and at first, Mat thought he was just going to joke, that he'd have to try and pass it off as a fun little jest as well. But then he kept going and suddenly there was a nervous lump in Mat's throat. Swallowing thickly, he shifted more towards him, voice a little smaller and hopeful than the usual bravado he went into everything with. "Yeah?" he questioned. "...Been thinking that for a hot sec."

Rory Flanagan

It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room when Mat shifted closer to Rory, and though there had been times before this, where they had been intimate within a scene setting, this was so much different. He found himself glancing at the Dominant's mouth, before his eyes locked with his. "Yeah," He agreed, "I mean, I'd argue you're more than cute but if I go on about how attractive I find you, it'll only go to that head of yours," He teaseed, "You have?"

Mateo Weston

At the joke, a bit of held breath spilled out of Mat's lungs, a small chuckle going along with it. It was just what he'd needed to release some tension and with that out of the way, he felt a little brave. Like maybe this wouldn't ruin things. Maybe the opposite. Reaching for one of Rory's hands, he held it between both of his, thumbs rubbing against his skin. "Yeah. That okay?"

Rory Flanagan

Rory felt like a weight had been lifted off him, and he couldn't help the stupid grin on his face when Mat gently reached for his hand, like he was some sort of love interest in a rom-com. "That's more than okay." Rory promised him, "You can think about me being cute or amazing or drop dead sexy and gorgeous anytime." He teased. Another thought popped into his head that made the weight feel like it was slowly descending on him again and he cleared his throat, shifting slightly. "So I take it....by thinking that I'm cute....it means you feel a way about me?" He asked, the actual words he wanted to ask not forming, but he had a feeling Mateo would understand him regardless.

Mateo Weston

"You're gonna make me wanna take it back," he threatened, though there was no real weight to his words, grin still on his face. It was strange, how worried and nervous he'd been about this for a whole week only for things to go so much better than he could have hoped. Rory hadn't fled yet nor had the world collapsed because Mat was interested in a guy. He nodded at his words first, then cleared his throat -- then suddenly let out a small laugh. "God, and I had this whole fucking plan to wine and dine you on Wednesday and have a mature conversation about this. It's your stupid face that did this to me."

Rory Flanagan

Rory hummed in response but he rolled his eyes playfully at the threat, blowing a kiss in response. He knew there was a lot that they needed to unpack, to talk about, but in this moment, the Irish lad just wanted to be happy. Just wanted to enjoy the fact that the guy he had been yearning for returned his affections. His heart panged at the reveal of Mat's plans, and he reached out to stroke his arm in an assuring way, no longer worried about him freaking out at such a gesture. "I mean, you still can. I'm very good at acting surprised. And the whole mature convo, that can come too." He grinned a mischevious grin at the accusation, "Aye don't blame the stupid face you're insanely attracted to, it did nothing but develop out of a good pool of genetics."

Mateo Weston

The grin on his face widened, losing all of its unsure edge. He'd been so concerned that things would change, that they wouldn't be able to be them anymore once this was out in the open and he was so relieved to find that being untrue. "Alright, I'm gonna kiss you now," he announced before leaning in to do just that. It was soft at first, gentle lips against Rory's as his hands came up to cup his face. While Mat may not always choose the gentle approach, he wanted it for this -- he wanted to savour the moment and be able to remember it later.6. März 2021

Rory Flanagan

The Switch was about to make a smart comment about the time between Mat announcing his feelings for him and the lack of kissing, when it seemed like the Dominant had read his mind, and suddenly his lips wre on Rory's. It was much more gentle than Rory had expected, but it was welcome all the same, and he kissed back eagerly, whilst trying to keep things at this same, soft level. The Switch's arms found themselves draped over Mat's shoulders, and it could have been seconds, minutes or even hours by the time they broke apart. "That was nice," He said with a chuckle, feeling like his brain had fell out of his head.

Mateo Weston

Letting out a breathy laugh once the kiss broke, Mat nodded in agreement. "It was." There was a brief pause before he went back, more passionately this time. As ridiculous as he'd felt the past couple of nights, rolling around sleeplessly and thinking about kissing Rory like some sort of innocent schoolboy, he had to admit -- the real thing beat the fantasy. A hand slipped from Rory's jaw into the hair at the back of his head, tilting the other's head in a way that allowed him to deepen the kiss. He could spend forever doing this.

~~FADE TO BLACK~~

#para #para: rory #rory #forgotten what i started fighting for // & rory

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snarkysarcasm · 5 years ago

Note

booksmart/ high school au where bookish holly and her friend are trying to make their way to a party to go after her insanely hot crush gail- or any variation there of- before they graduate. would kindly ask for a lack of throwing up but you know you do you; currently in the middle of my 48th rewatch and outlining my own bc i’m a freak but oh well- you’re my favorite and i’d love to see you tackle this.

Full disclosure: I’ve never seen this movie, but that’s what google is for. Anyway...

“Come on, Holls!”

“No.”

“The school year is over. We graduate and you’re leaving in a few days and you have never even been to one party in your entire high school career.”

“What’s your point, Lis?”

“It’s true Hols, we’ve spent the last four years working our asses off to get into good schools and everyone else who has partied has managed to get into them too but had more fun.”

“Yeah, so I vote that what they’ve spent four years doing, we’re going to cram into one night.”

“This sounds like a terrible decision especially because the year isn’t over, we’re in the middle of finals.”

“You have a perfect GPA, you shouldn’t even be taking the finals at this point, you’d think all the teachers would just give you the A.”

“Seriously, Hol, you have all weekend to study, we’ll even study with you.” They both looked at Lisa. “Okay, I’ll even study with you. But you have to come tonight.”

“Why is it so important that I go tonight?”

“Because….uh….you just have to.”

“Yeah...umm...you don’t want to graduate without this experience.”

“What experience? Having a bunch of sweaty teenagers crammed into a basement, drinking whatever someone’s older brother managed to get them from the liquor store. I will deal with plenty of that in college.”

“You’ll probably spend college studying nonstop the same way you have the last four years. I love you, but girl you need to get your head out of the books even if it’s just one night.”

“I don’t know, I still haven’t heard a good reason.”

“What if I told you Gail Peck was going to be there.”

“Gail?”

“Yeah, you know the girl you’ve been pining over since that first pep rally freshman year when you saw her in her cheerleading uniform.”

“Come on, Hols, maybe if you’re lucky tonight you’ll get to see her pom poms.”

“Shut up, Lis.” “Rach, is she really going to be there?”

“Yep, I’m sure of it.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll go.”

“Great, now we just need to figure out the address.”

“Wait, you don’t know the address?”

“Well I’m pretty sure it’s at Nick’s house.”

“How sure?’

“Pretty. Like how pretty Gail is.”

“I hope you’re right.”

~ 24 hours later ~

“If I had known we’d be walking I’d have worn smaller heels.” Lisa was limping with a broken shoe in one hand.

“No you wouldn’t have.” Holly and Rachel said in unison.

“Shut up.”

Holly stopped in her tracks as they finally approached a large house with music blaring and kids all over the place.

“Rachel, I thought you said this was at Nick’s house.”

“It is.”

“Then why are we at Gail’s house. You didn’t tell me she was throwing the party! That’s it I’m going back to my car and calling the tow.”

“Oh, no you’re not.”

“You are not chickening out, Holly Stewart. Tonight is the night that you get the girl of your dreams.”

Holly was flanked by her two best friends who each grabbed an arm and steered (dragged) her to the front door where a guy was standing by a table of red cups,

“Invitation?”

“Umm...uhhh….”

“Hey, let them in.”

Holly’s breath caught at the sight of her crush. It might’ve been her imagination but it felt like Gail was burning a hole right through her soul with the look she was giving her.

“But you said.”

“I know what I said, Diaz, but they’re cool.”

Holly was basically thrown into Gail before Lisa and Rachel took off. She held her breath

Gail hovered near Holly, “Sorry for Lurch. He’s a bit slow sometimes. Tackled a few times too many times. But there weren’t many brain cells to begin with”

“Hey”

“Is for horses. Go back to the door.” Gail snarled and pulled Holly a little further away. Holly thought she would melt into the ground.

“He’s not the brightest bulb but he is strong, I should know, I dated him.”

Holly’s stomach sank, she was about to make an excuse to leave when another person interrupted.

“Hey, Gail!”

“Go away, Nick.”

The boy quickly changed direction at the withering look from the blonde.

“Another ex?”

“Unfortunately. I wouldn’t have had him here but he was the only other person with connections to get the booze. Steve would only buy so much, considering he’s about to head ot the academy.”

“The academy?”

“Peck dynasty. I’ll be there too in four short years.”

“Do you even want to do it?”

“I don’t have much of a choice. But what I do have a choice about what I do tonight.”

“Is that why you threw a party?”

“I actually hate these types of things. All these people. Milling around. They’re laughing and they’re caring.”

“I know, it’s awful. I usually dodge this stuff but -”

“But…”

“But uh my friends wouldn’t let me and I’m all about growing these days.”

“So, no offense, but you look like you’ve already done quite a bit of growing tonight.”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“So why don’t you tell me the half of it?”

“Well my car broke down, I almost got murdered by a pizza delivery driver, we ended up on Dov’s yacht, I thought I was eating a strawberry but I’m pretty sure I accidentally did mushrooms with Chloe, we watched porn in a lyft with Principal Shaw, went to a murder mystery party hosted by Frankie of all people where Chloe told me that we did drugs and I turned into a plastic doll. Had to get a ride and change of clothes from Ms. Williams, and this whole time I thought we were on a mission to get to a party at Nick’s house. I know that I’m supposed to be carefree and fun tonight but I think I’ve had about all I can take for surprises so I’m just going to go. ”

“Hey, Nerd!” Holly turned back. “Go where?”

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to get a tow for my car and go home and go to sleep before we graduate.”

“I’’ll drive you.”

“You’ve been drinking.”

“Shit. yeah, umm I’ll walk with you then.”

“This is your party, why would you leave to walk with me?”

“Yeah but I only had it so that you would come.”

“But then why didn’t you invite me?”

“I wasn’t really sure how.”

“So you invited everyone in the school?”

“Not quite everyone. It’s also why I put Diaz at the door as a fake bouncer.”

“You are insane, you know that, right?”

“Me? All I did was throw a party. I didn’t do shrooms and turn into a doll or watch porn in Principal Shaw’s car.”

Holly didn’t know how to respond, so she did the only thing she could think of. She kissed the gorgeous blonde making fun of her. She surprised even herself, but was even more pleasantly surprised when she tried to pull back and Gail pulled her closer instead.

It was hardly a perfect night but at least she got the girl in the end.

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callme-barnes · 5 years ago

Text

Beauty & Brawn (Part 5)

Summary- You are the top scientist in all of New York, the one that no one knows. Going through the science field as a woman is hardly easy, let alone rewarding. You’re bombarded with misogynistic men who only see you as a pretty face, not knowing that you have the mind of a thousand scientists combined. That is until you meet Tony Stark, the genius billionaire who could quite possibly be the answer to your prayers, and your heart.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

It’s been a while. Catch up here!:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

It was about 6 in the evening and you had officially been staring at the outfit lying on your bed for 40 minutes. This also included the not so healthy talking to yourself that you were having.

Why did you even think you could do this? Do you know how long its been since you’ve gone out? How long since you’ve last worn heels? You’re going to fall flat on your face and he’s going to laugh at you and your evening is going to go exactly like that.

You quickly inhaled and shut your eyes, forcing the negative thoughts to float into the back of your mind before you grabbed the dress and slipped it on over the nice black lingerie you had saved for a special occasion. Not that Tony was going to see your lingerie that evening, but it always felt nice to have something sexy on under your clothes just to give you that extra ounce of encouragement and self esteem.

The dress was long and curve hugging, cinching in at your waist and falling down loose past your hips. The slit going up your right leg was just high enough to show some skin but low enough to leave something to the imagination. It had a nice low U-shape neckline that flaunted your breasts but was also modest. You took in a deep breath and turned around to look in the mirror. It had been such a long time since you’ve seen yourself in anything even remotely fancy that it kind of made you nervous and giddy all the same time. Looking at the clock you saw you still had about an hour and a half to get ready so you walked over to your vanity and began to put on some makeup, turning on your favorite playlist and singing along to help release your nerves.

It was now 7:45 and you were ready to go. Your heels complemented your dress, and your hair fell nicely down your back in large loose waves. You heard the buzzer for your apartment buzz and you quickly took one final breath before quickly walking over and answering it.

“Hello?”

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. I am here to escort you to dinner”

You smiled and rolled your eyes slightly at his tone and shook your head in amusement

“I’ll be right down”

You quickly walked over to your floor length mirror and checked everything again. You fluffed up your hair, did a couple of quick turn, reapplied some of your lipstick although it was already perfect, and then you grabbed your phone and your small bag and walked out into the elevator.

The ride down was full of anxiety and if anyone else was in the elevator with you you’re sure they would have felt all that energy rolling off of you like heat waves from the sun. The elevator ding sounded and you looked up seeing you were already on the ground floor. You took in one more deep breath in and then walked out when the doors opened. The first thing you saw was Tony’s figure. He was looking down at his watch and twiddling his fingers as though he was just an average man, nervous to to meet a woman for the first time. He never looked up and if anything he probably looked like he was gathering his own thoughts.

You walked over and put on a smile, tapping Tony on the shoulder and he immediately turned his head to take you in. His eyes roamed, from your head right down to the very tip of your feet. The gaze he was giving you made you nervous and you shifted under it before he cleared his throat

“Well if I’ve ever seen a more beautiful woman in my life I couldn’t remember”

You took the time to let out a nervous chuckle and looked down before looking back up at him

“Thank you. I wasn’t sure how fancy or how not fancy to dress so I’d say this is in between”

Tony shook his head and sent you a smile

“You look amazing. Even if we were going out to watch a movie or eat at a fast food restaurant I still wouldn’t even think about telling you since you might change”

His tone was one of playfulness and you smiled brightly at him

“Shall we?”

Tony quickly gathered his wits

“Sorry. Yes, yes we shall”

He stuck out his arm for you to take and you did so without a second thought. Talking to him was so effortless you couldn’t even remember why had you had been so nervous in the first place. You both walked out towards the front of your apartment complex and you saw his very nice black car. He opened the door for you, you sent him a polite thank you and he got into the driver’s side and you were off.

Dinner flew by and now you were both back at the tower going over Tony’s new idea

“I like it. I think it could help a lot of people by giving them access to clean water all the time. How much are we thinking this is going to cost for the countries that want to purchase it?”

“And that’s where you come in. See I want to do this as more of a humanitarian project. I don’t want this to cost a fortune, if those who need it can’t afford to have clean water now I wouldn’t want them to stress out about being able to purchase this mechanism. I want it to be affordable”

You pouted your lips out a bit and felt your thoughts racing before a light bulb went off

“We’d have to make it as biodegradable as possible. If you can locate the pieces we need that are either recycled or if they are pieces that are broke and going to be used for scraps, we could get them cheaper, I can fix them and then we wouldn’t have to charge an arm and a leg for it”

Tony nodded along before smiling

“And that’s why you’re working with me. I’ll start looking for suppliers tomorrow”

You smiled at Tony and fixed your dress. You were seated on top of the lab counter, your legs dangling and your mind racing with all the ideas that you has planned

“So Y/N, tell me more about you. I know the basics, I know you graduated at the top of your university on the Dean’s List. But how is it you’re so good at everything? I know I’m smart, but your brain kind of functions like a little computer and it’s the most, impressive thing I’ve seen in my life”

You looked up at Tony before smiling and wiped your hands on your thighs since they had since gotten sweaty from being alone in the same room with Tony

“Well, that’s because it practically is. When I was a kid, I used to get these horrible migraines in school and the longer I was in school the worst they got. Then in about middle school I had a moment in my chemistry class where we were dissecting an earthworm, and my vision kind of zoomed in a little and I was able to vividly see the entire system of how it worked and what was lying even beneath what the normal eyes could see. I started being able to solve Calculus problems without a piece of paper or a calculator by 7th grade. I just...I don’t know my brain kind of works where, if I’m asked something, I put everything together in my head, sometimes so fast where I don’t even register what I’m doing. I wouldn’t say I can see into the future or something, but my brain goes into overdrive and I’m able to kind of do trials in my head of every possible way something could go and I’m able to accomplish what I can because of that”

Tony was leaned back against the counter in front of you, listening to everything you were saying almost like he was trying to memorize all of it.

“What about family life? Any brothers, sisters? Mom? Dad?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked down

“None. Well, technically I do. But I don”t talk to them anymore”

“Why’s that?”

You took in a deep breath and looked up at him

“When I was in 7th grade, my counselor at school spoke to my parents about me. At first it was because there were complaints from my teachers, saying I must be cheating during tests or cheating during spelling bees and science competitions because I never missed anything. But my counselor was a nice older lady and I trusted her with what I was able to do. She believed in me so she told my parents I should be going to school at a math and science academy or a more top tier school. When I was younger we were poor. We were living 5 in a single room apartment, my mom, my dad, me and my two sisters. They signed me up into a great school like my counselor said. But I had to receive financial aid and scholarships because we weren’t able to afford it. Long story short instead of using the money I was receiving to keep me in school, they were keeping it to themselves and not paying my classes. We owed thousands of dollars to the school so I was kicked out and for high school I was back in public school”

Tony furrowed his eyebrows and looked down

“That’s insane. I can’t believe they’d do that”

“Neither could I. And it only continued in high school. I was getting prize money for doing inventions and projects and winning the competitions. But I never saw that money. I always figured it was the least I could do, since I lived under their roof and they were clothing me and feeding me. But one day I was unable to compete because my teacher wanted to give others a chance. My parents found out, they blew their shit, and I kind of became an outcast after that. I stopped enjoying science and just kind of did mediocre work. At 18 I left for college and I just never kept in contact”

Tony looked back up at you before exhaling, moving from his previous position to stand in front of you. You were so close you could feel his thighs brushing against your knees and you looked up at him

“Well it was a nice turn of events in a way. Now what they couldn’t appreciate I can. I...I know this might be inappropriate, and please, stop me at anytime, but you are the most gorgeous, smartest woman I’ve ever met. And I want to know more about you, and I want to help you reach any goal you want to conquer. I just, the short time you’ve been here has been so great”

You bit your lower lip

“Tony what....”

But before you were able to get your thoughts out, his lips came to yours and his hands moved to cup your cheeks to pull you closer. You were surprised and your heart was racing, but you felt your body instantly react and you kissed him back. Your hands moved to rest on his waist and he took that as an opportunity to pull himself closer to you. You could feel his heart beating against his chest and you melted deeper into the kiss. He pulled away and opened his eyes to look at you. You looked back but before he was able to say anything JARVIS spoke

“Mr. Stark, Fury is here. He’s called an emergency meeting and would like to meet in conference room 3″

You furrowed your eyebrows unable to decide if you should say something but Tony beat you to it

“He’s always had such amazing timing”

#iron man x reader #iron man drabble #iron man fluff #iron man imagine #tony stark x reader #tony stark drabble #tony stark imagine #tony stark fluff #marvel drabble #marvel imagine #marvel fluff

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qvicksilversass · 5 years ago

Text

Designated - Three

(Pietro Maximoff/Steve Rogers x Reader)

Growing up you were always the ugly friend, always passed over. It’s something that’s stayed with you all your life. You resigned yourself to it and closed yourself off from ever thinking someone might like you. Even when they make it pretty obvious.

Words: 2112 Warnings: None really, awkward Pietro & flustered Steve? :p

“I’m gonna go too…“

No one was this forward with you, and you weren’t sure you liked the anxious feeling it gave you. The longer their eyes stayed on you the faster your heart beat.

“You need a ride home?” Steve asks, his voice sweet, yet his eyes fixed on Pietro’s and you feel your stomach sinking.

“Pfft we could walk faster.”

“I doubt that kid.”

How did you not notice it before? You roll your eyes at their glaring contest and shuffle out of the booth, standing up to leave before they even noticed you.

“Bye guys.”

Steve slings on his jacket and heads across to you with a dashing smile. You might have melted on the spot if it wasn’t for the niggling doubts coursing in your brain.

“Wait, I’ve heard there’s gang activity around here-”

He’d hardly taken a step before Pietro was in front of him, blocking him from you.

“-And you’ll what? Hit them with your walking stick? You’re much safer with me frumoasa.”

They both cross their arms and give one another the evil eye once more and you sigh, conscious of the other people in the diner staring at the three of you. This is getting ridiculous.

“Look, whatever this is…,” you gesture between them, “I only live a couple blocks away I’ll be fine… so…bye.”

You give them an apologetic smile and wave before rushing out of the diner. Fucks sake, what’s wrong with you? Why couldn’t you be more like Nat? She’d have them both eating out of her hands. Finding out what they were up to and if necessary crushing them and spitting them out in thirty seconds.

This kind of attention, it never happened to you - let alone with two gorgeous guys? There must be something else going on, right? Whatever game they were playing you weren’t going to be a part of it.

If only fate had the same idea.

Your belly does a flip and you pause as you turn the corner onto your street. Pietro’s sitting on your steps. How the hell did he get here before you? Hang on, how does he know where you live? You go to fish your pepper spray out of your bag then curse realising you left it at the diner.

“Pietro? How do you know I live here?”

“You left this.” He jumps up with a sheepish grin holding your bag and phone, showing the emergency screen.

“Oh, right. Thank you.” You take them, feeling a little less like he was about to murder you.

“I wanted to, apologize? My brain it doesn’t always keep up with my…ahm…,” he struggles to find the right wording and you can’t help but smirk, raising an eyebrow at him, “heart! I meant my heart! I go too fast sometimes.”

“Apology accepted.” You grin and he steps beside you, nudging you like he did in the diner.

“Soo? Can I at least get your number?"

You giggled, again. Him managing to put you at ease, none of the bravado or even confidence that he showed in the diner. He oozed nerves and you could have sworn he blushed.

Don’t let this be a huge mistake.

You hold out your hand for his phone, Pietro staring at your hand a second his seeming surprise so endearing.

"I meant what I said frumoasa." Pietro kisses your cheek and leaves, grinning back at you.

As soon as you shut the door your phone started beeping. You peer down at it, throwing your keys in the bowl and yourself down onto the sofa.

Evening Ma'am :)

Steve? How did you get my number?

Nat gave it to me.

Of course she did

Sorry is this too forward?

No, I’m just surprised :)

Me too, I hate these damn phones ;)

You chuckled to yourself. You were joking when you met him, now you were starting to wonder. In the middle of typing a reply, your phone beeped again. You smile down at Pietro’s message, what was happening? This was insane.

Goodnight frumoasa x

Night Pietro x

How long had it been since anyone had called you beautiful? And actually meant it? You groaned. Don’t be stupid. All this attention all at once, isn’t it too good to be true?

So what do people talk about on these things nowadays?

Nowadays?

What’s wrong with that?

Nothing. My nan uses it all the time :p

You comparing me to an old lady?

hey listen, I acted like a jerk at the diner, I guess I’m a little rusty

How could someone that gorgeous be rusty at dating? Steve must get asked out all the time. You switch on the TV and make a drink, replying as the kettle heats up.

No worries, that comes with old age I guess :p

Ouch, that hurts :p

For hours you texted Steve, surprised how easy it is to talk to him. Usually, you struggled to come up with the right replies to people. Either you seemed too keen, too weird or too off with them. For some reason Steve thought you were funny, and after a while you didn’t have to work out what to say, you could just say it.

Sleep well doll x

You too Sir :p x

Be careful talking like that ma'am, I’m starting to like it :p

Oh. You stared wide-eyed at the phone not expecting him to be so flirty and a moment later you’re laughing.

In that case, Good Night Sir ;)

—

"Who’s the broad?”

Steve flinched at the gruff baritone of his friend’s voice, nearly dropping his phone and stuffing it in his pocket. Hiding it like he’s been caught doing something naughty, a blush creeping over his cheeks.

“What broad?” Steve shrugs and Bucky chuckles.

“Come on pal, you’ve been staring all googly-eyed at that phone for days. I ain’t seen you use it for so much as a call before.”

Apart from a few dates that had gone nowhere, it had been a long time since he’d let himself even think about a relationship. Yeah, he got more attention but their adoration is a new thing to him. So much harder to know who was genuine, who liked Steve and not Captain America.

He had to admit he liked this way of getting to know someone. Either of them could call it off, just stop texting. He thought he might put her off at first, her funny replies only spurring him on. He found himself looking forward to her messages, almost addicted. He could talk to her about anything and he loved the feeling.

Plus, there was a lot less pressure asking y/n on a date over text. That and he wanted to ask her out before that punk.

“Did you talk to Nat yet?”

“I just got back."

Steve notices the shift in his friend at the change of subject, frowning and rearranging the cutlery while he waits for his toast to cook.

"Didn’t she just leave?”

Bucky smirks, “We didn’t do much talking.”

“Buck.”

“I know, I will. I need to find the words you know?”

Bucky was avoiding his questions again. Steve thought he and Nat had a solid thing going, lately, he wasn’t so sure.

“You love her Buck, start with that.”

“Right. So, you gonna tell me or what?”

Steve groans and rubs the bridge of his nose. He might as well tell him. Buck would never let up otherwise.

“She’s one of Nat’s friends, her best friend I think.”

“Y/n?” Steve’s surprised by the furrowing of Bucky’s eyebrows and the clench of his fist. Anyone else would have missed it. In a second it’s gone replaced by a smirk as Bucky nodded in recognition.

“The one with the pretty eyes and the great rack?” Steve rolls his eyes at him but nods, “good girl, though damn shy, good luck getting a date with her-”

“I just asked her to a movie.” Steve’s stomach drops. Had he made a move too soon? He ignores Bucky’s amused smile as the seconds ticked by with no reply from you.

Didn’t people reply straight away? What if he’d scared you off? Man, he was so out of his depth, why was dating was so complicated these days? Moments later the phone beeped and he nearly dropped it. Again.

“She said yes.” Steve grinned at his friend.

“Pleased for you pal, no sex on the first date though got it?”

“Call Nat, don’t be a jerk.”

“Yeah yeah.”

—

You’d been talking to Steve and Pietro for days as friends and Steve’s invite caught you off guard. You couldn’t say no, however you’d also agreed to meet Pietro tomorrow. Shit. You should have said no.

Up to now, it had been fun. You still had that doubt that they would get bored of you or it was just a game to them, this is pressure. This is the next step. Either towards finding out you’re getting played or even more frightening, what if they’re actually genuine? Who the hell would you choose?

“What’s with the face?” Steam billows behind Nat as she steps out of the bathroom.

“It’s Steve and Pietro-”

“Both of them asked you on a date?!” She grins barely containing her excitement and sitting next to you on the sofa.

“Yes, how did you-”

“Wait, will it be a threesome?"

"Nat calm down, what should I do?”

“Them both? Repeatedly, in many, many positions-”

“Nat, I’m serious!" You give her a playful shove and she laughs.

"So am I.”

“What if they’re betting on me? If it’s some game? Won’t they talk? They both seem genuine? What if it’s-”

Nat puts her hand over yours, mainly to shut you up, but also to stop you panicking.

“Y/n. It’s one date. If you like them see where it goes, if not then no harm done.”

“I guess…”

“Not everyone’s an asshole y/n. Give them a chance.”

She carries on getting ready for her date with Bucky, talking while she’s in and out of your spare room. Well, it’s now mostly her room, she may as well live here. Her excuse being it’s closer to work. You knew it was the same reason you liked having her here. Though neither of you would admit it, you liked the company, the guarantee that someone was waiting for you, to stave off the loneliness.

There’s a knock at the door and you open it to Bucky holding out your pizza with a shy smile.

“Pizza delivery.”

“Hi Buck, you didn’t have to pay-”

“It’s no problem.” Nat runs in, hair still wrapped in a towel and jumps on Buck, peppering him in kisses.

“This is my apartment you know.” You cover your eyes and pretend to puke making them both laugh.

“I’ll be five minutes.”

You invite Bucky to sit with you while he waits for Nat, it’s always a little awkward with him. Probably more in your head than anything to do with him, you were only friends because of Nat really.

“So, you better take her somewhere nice.”

“Don’t worry, I value my baby maker.”

You laugh, eating a slice of pizza and he gives you that good-natured smile you were never quite sure was genuine or if he felt sorry for you.

“She’s missed you.”

“Yeah, this assignment wasn’t an easy one.“

He glances down to his hands, but you catch that faraway look he got now and again, full of mystery and sadness. One that made you want to ask what was wrong, ask how to make it better.

"What are you up to? Seeing anyone new?”

Just like that it was gone, the cheeky sparkle back again. You scoffed at ‘anyone new’ he said it like there was ever anyone. Well, maybe there could be, until they saw you again and realised what an idiot you were.

“Not unless pizza and Netflix count.”

Nat walks out in a figure-hugging red dress, hair in a braid and both your eyes bug out. She just smirks pretending not to know how beautiful she is. You roll your eyes as she pulls Bucky up kissing him again, turning back just before she shuts the door.

"Take care bitch.”

“Love you too!”

The apartment feels way too quiet after their whirlwind. No matter how hard you fought off the idea, you wanted what Nat and Buck had. Would it be so bad to feel like that for once? To have someone love you, think you were the most beautiful person in their world? Then you glance down at your grotty pyjamas, greasy pizza and cheesy film starting to play on screen.

Ugh, like that would ever happen.

—

Part 4

One Two

Masterlist

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suffering-and-happy-about-it · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine Samuel being a father

A/N: So, in my opinion... Samuel Drake as a father would a killer. I think that he would be somewhere between Ryan Reynolds (find his parenthood tweets, oh lord) and Josh Wolf (such a good stand up comedian).

He would love his children endlessly, he isn't his own father, after all, but he'll maybe terrorize them a bit. Like in a funny way.

Also, I might start a series of one-shots, because I have a ton of ideas for this one.

Warnings: Samuel being a kickass father. There's some weed mentioned in here, but it is meant to be fun.

You and Samuel were together for some time.

Let me say, you were that badass Californian couple - partying, drinking your ass off, smoking weed and doing a lot of fucking things.

Like, you were practically animals. Party animals.

And of course, you were on your pills. We don't want any accidents here, right?

But, if ya know and are aware of - antibiotics and hormonal pills kinda don't do a single shit when mixed.

You should let him know that when you were finishing your antibiotics after a looong illness.

But you somehow magically forgot when he started to nuzzle you on the sofa. You know the drill really well. But why not, you were horny as hell, you missed his weenie and his body. Boy, it shouldn't be a sin to make love with your boyfriend, right?

Ya know how this goes, don't you? You don't? But I do and let me tell you.

Nuzzling > nude dudes > just the tip > oops, I cum in you.

It wasn't a sin to make love with your boyfriend. But you didn't count on that you actually get pregnant.

Yet there you were, holding that goddamn stick in front of his hazel brown eyes.

"Alright, young man." - You went. - "You wanna tell me something about dat? Because I'm pregnant and I don't certainly didn't impregnated on my own." - You asked, looking at him with that you know what you have done. But he just slapped you in the face with his answer.

"Maybe it's God's will?" - Samuel asked and you didn't know if you were about to cry or laugh actually. There was a fucking baby on the way and you two weren't that couple who would get rid of it. Maybe it hadn't the most perfect timing, yet you two have done it, so it was your responsibility now.

"Are you joking me?"

"Babe, I have one question and I am scared of the answer." - He whispered and you waved your fingers as sing for him to go on. - "I've heard some... Rumors? Like... Will your vanana be the same when he or she gets out of your body? I kinda like your tight little girl."

So yeah. There were no fights, no yelling or tears. The only two things Samuel was concerned about was the health of the baby and how actually make your vanana tight again after that.

He's an idiot. Don't mind him. At least he was looking forward to being a father. He looked like the type who runs away directly after telling him - but he was fucking pumped for your child.

That didn't mean he would be a good father. Not at all. You could tell, you could fucking tell, that he'll be that prankster, pretty tough dad with some terrible fucking jokes and you were sure that when your child will be an adult, they'll have some freaking funny memories to share.

Let me say one thing - he read as many books about labor and pregnancy as he read on the topic of vanana. He has his priorities straight. And you couldn't tell otherwise.

But no one else could believe.

"I'm with a baby." - You told Elena and Nathan who has their daughter just a few months ago. She was gorgeous after her mother and you were all scared that she'll catch Nathan's attributes.

Nathan started to laugh hysterically, but you guys were looking at him with a frown. Elena slapped his back and her stare was like can you calm the fuck down, man?

"I meant that they were joking."

Nobody could believe that Samuel Drake is about to be a father.

But when your belly got bigger and bigger, they figured out you might not be joking at all.

Samuel loved when he could speak with your belly, whispering to it when the evening came and you two lazily lied on the sofa, watching some dumb movies with Bruce Willis.

"Hi there, little one." - He carefully descended between your legs, nuzzling your belly with his lips and nose. You unconsciously messed his hair with your hand.

"Had a crazy day, I tell ya, buddy. My head is blowing up with one thought at the moment." - Samuel sighed dramatically.

"What thought, daddy?" - You messed with him with a quiet laugh. You were all in about calling him daddy in the family way and in a naughty way as well.

"I was thinking about marrying mommy, little fellow."

It wasn't history's greatest proposal, but it was something, right? It was romantic in its own way and it made you really happy.

And when the baby moved under his palms for the first time ever, it made him legit cry like a little boy.

At the moment he officially started the age of Sam, the sensitive and loving father™ (even tho it was insanely lovely, it didn't stop you from making fun of him).

He acted around you as if he was walking around some porcelain which he could break easily. He made sure you don't drink, you don't even get close to some weed, he was cooking you the healthiest recipes and even bought you some pregnancy clothes.

You wanted to know the gender, of course, but Samuel was strictly against it. So you knew it would be a boy from the start, right?

But his curiosity almost killed him. He asked you many times during different events.

Once you made dishes? He asked. You were cooking? He crept being you and almost killed you because of freaking out. You were washing clothes? Dear, that man just magically stood next to the washing machine.

But in the end, you finally told him.

And he cried again - he was about to have a baby boyo. His own son. Someone to pass the legacy on.

That made him the happiest man under the sun.

When that day came and Thomas finally saw the light of the world, Samuel was under serious pressure, shaking and crying a big time, white as a fucking wall - and you were screaming that you'll kill him if he ever tried to have another child with you.

And yes, your firstborn son was named after a pirate - Thomas Tew.

It was a long and let's be honest, painful a fucking lot in the end, labor but there was a small little bean in your arms, both of you were crying like little fucking girls and you almost immediately fell asleep after breastfeeding the baby and having all of those pregnancy things out of your body.

"You can breastfeed me as well." - Samuel whispered wickedly, thinking about sexual stuff again, and you were so disgusted by it after baby just fucking crawled from your vanana that you smacked his cheek hard. He was mesmerized, shocked and partially amused.

"If you ever put your lips close to my boobs or your penis somewhere near my vagina, you better be sure that I'll cut your weenie off, you motherfucker." - You sighed painfully with your eyes closed. He chuckled.

"From today on I'll be a motherfucker, I solemnly swear." - Samuel said in a loving tone.

He called Nathan as soon as he left you when you fell asleep. Both of them cried and they decided to have a shot for the welfare of his son - which meant that Nathan vomited in the park at three am and Samuel tried to kick hydrant because that hydrant insulted him.

They were fucking high, having the biggest hungover of their lives, waking up on the beach and neither of them knew how the fuck they got there.

You came home after a few days with a baby in a safety cradle and you couldn't believe your eyes. Those little things which made baby safe about sharp edges and some fuses.

The funniest was when Samuel forgot how to open the one on your toilet. And he needed to pee desperately.

He always thought that babies are more fun than just crying, eating and pooping - why would everyone want them then?

He kinda didn't understand Nathans feelings about Cassie. It doesn't mean that he doesn't love his little baby boy, alright? He was just that kind of a man who thought that babies crawl out of the woman and they immediately do everything. He needed to learn that it takes some time before they walk and talk.

So when he was holding Thomas in his armchair, he whispered him his pirate stories and fact and that little one didn't understand a single word, but it calmed him down.

So be sure that Samuel was PUMPED when the boyo started to crawl around and saying those sweet nonsenses. Samuel also almost threw a huge celebration when Thomas said mama for the first time or when he did his first step.

“He's a genius! Have you heard the pronunciation? Our little boy is exactly like his dad - fast, charming and extremely good with ladies. Have you seen him with Cassie?”

“Samuel, I think that you're freaking out and overthinking it a lot.”

He was basically pumped every everything Thomas did.

And when his boy started to draw? Jesus, Samuel was ready to call him Picasso. In his eyes, he was extremely talented (and you didn't ruin it by saying him that Thomas is completely normal, little boy).

You were pretty lit parents, to be honest.

When you had a long day at work and Samuel was too sick from Thomas making him angry (like when he fucked up your beautiful white wall with Nutella and fucking ketchup), you just waited until your son fell asleep.

“Are you ready for it?”

“You bet your ass, Samuel. I just need to turn off my brain.”

And you two smoked some tree (weed, who doesn't know). You were high as a kite. You didn't smoke weed much, just sometimes and it wasn't even a lot of it. Just to make you feel ok, restart your brain.

But one day you came to the bedroom and Samuel was pale and looking into your closet.

“What is up, baby? You look scared.” - You said and stood next to him, looking into that closet next to him. - “Babe?”

“You were... You know, eating our happy brownies what you've baked for today's evening?” - Samuel asked and you shook your head and his eyes and expression went to “What?” to “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Thomas ate your weed baked in brownies. There was not a lot of it, thank god, so he was mostly okay. He was totally fine the next day - but the evening, man, that was a wild one. You both didn't leave his side all night, watching him and you didn't even fall asleep. Nothing happened, thanks to god.

Even tho, years later you burst out of laugh when Samuel was talking about his baby boy getting high on accident.

Yet, from that day on, you started to hide your edibles and weed more carefully.

From that day on, Samuel sometimes didn't leave his side all day - he woke him up, prepared breakfast, took him to kindergarten, took him out, went out with him and so on - sometimes he even fell asleep during telling him a proper pirate story.

Especially when you somehow got pregnant, again. What should I say? This man just has good genes and really good sperms.

Nobody knew how it happened again.

But Thomas was just about to have a sibling when he was four years old.

So Samuel took the role of father for 24/7 when you got really pregnant. It was nice and Samuel was a lot calmer this time.

He was a self-proclaimed pregnancy expert since Thomas was born and he was pretty sure your vanana can be tight once again after labor because you were successful the first time.

Especially he loved to take Thomas out to the park.

He was sure that his son will be like him. When he was five years old, he was pretty good with the girls his age and because he took after your beautiful face and he took after Samuels' eyes, he was good even with women. Thomas was an adorable boy.

But that's what made Samuel worried - if he would be like Samuel as a teenager, you will through some tough shit.

But hey - for that moment, he was only five and he had a little sister named Anne after a pirate woman Anne Bonny. Sam did his puppy eyes for that one and he promised you endless nights of eating out if you name her Anne.

And Thomas was like “Why the fuck should dad eat mommy?”. He was pretty scared at that moment.

When Anne was actually born, you had already learned from the mistakes you have done with Thomas.

Your life went on - you got a house, Sam was still in the business with Sully and yet Sam wasn't exactly the youngest, he had a hella energy for his children and job. And he got a hella money from that. Sully knew really well what he was doing. Tom started to go to elementary school and it wasn't a much of time before Annie went to kindergarten.

You stopped smoking tree at home; Elena and Nate were looking after Tom and Annie and you just got off to the woods or you want on to some mountain cottage. But you have still done that only when life was too hard on you and you needed to relax really badly.

Sometimes you took Cassie to your house, planning the evenings of their life to them.

Samuel and Nathan even started a competition who will do it better - but let's say that Samuel wasn't as much pussy as Nathan. That prison made him crazy a bit.

But oh man, then it started.

Thomas was twelve years old and he was a high-school boy. So watch out. Obviously, you are old as fuck and you don't know shit about his cruel, tough life.

He stopped telling you everything, but you know it was only a natural thing that you had to accept. Annie was seven at the time and she was Samuels little sunshine and princess and you were her best friends.

But Tom had a strong relationship with Sully and Nathan and Sam. And the older he was, the stronger it was.

He wasn't that little boy anymore. He slowly started to be a man. And you couldn't be prouder.

He had his moods, yeah, but he helped you at the home, he cared about his grades, he even hadn't that much of a mess in his room and he was really well brought up. And he loved you more than anything else in the world - you were his mommy.

But just as Sam, Nate, Sully, and Tom had their club, you, Elena, Cassie and little Annie got you a one.

But oh my fucking Lord, you loved the stories what Sam was telling you when you got to bed. He didn't tell you Tom's problems in from of him, but you two were still his parents and you know how the drill goes: what does your dad know, your mom knows too.

"Dad?" - Tom came to Samuel one evening and he was looking like a piece of shit. Samuel frowned immediately and put his newspaper on the table. He was still worried about Tom even tho he was really smart, pretty non-problem thirteen-year-old boy. He knew how to take care of himself.

"What's up, kid?" - Samuel smiled and massaged his son's shoulder with his palm, trying to calm him down.

"I, uh, oh damn I don't know how the hell I should start." - Tom said quietly and if you were there, you would look at your son and mouth language, but there was only the two of them, so it was cool. - "Okay, okay, okay, I have a problem. It's a huge problem. I think that there's something wrong about me." - Tom whispered.

"Why would you think that? Look at you, you're a handsome young lad, just as I was back in my days." - Sam chuckled and gulped a sip of beer.

"I just gonna tell it, okay?" - Thomas took his face into his palms and started to mumble. - "So my classmate Lindsay had a really nice, tight shirt on today and I saw her boobs in a coincidence and something happened in my pants, you know, with my weenie. And then it happened again when I was a math class and I don't know what to do, because it never happened before and I'm so scared." - He finished and Sam just smiled and patted his shoulder.

"There's nothing wrong with that. Your body just tells you that you're ready to have a woman. But try something when you're underage and I'll kill you, understood?" - Samuel told him with a proud smile. - "And I don't know if this happens, but if you get hard for a man, I don't tell you it has to happen, it's just as good. I don't care whom you bang when you'll be an adult, understood? But you are still young for doing that, so try anything and I'll tell your mother."

He was so proud at that moment. His boy became an official man in his eyes. He wasn't little anymore. But still fairly young.

And you also worked as the biggest threat to Tom, so he was almost shitted because of fear at the moment. You were worse than a hurricane when he did something really bad, like throwing up on your mom's dog or when he broke a toilet at his school.

And you giggled when Sam told you that your son is a man.

He talked with Sam about everything as he grew up - he had told him about his first making out with a girl, about his first boob-touching session which he was really excited about (Tom hummed songs all evening, which wasn't a thing he would normally do) and he even asked for advice when he was about to touch his girlfriend's, her name was Carmen and she was a lovely girl, vanana for the first time ever. They had a big group meeting with uncle Nathan and pa Sully about that - it was huge for Tom and they just quietly remembered how it was for them.

But let me say - Samuel and Nathan aged like a fucking good wine. They maybe weren't the youngest around, but hell, they still did something to the women around and they had plenty of experience.

And it was three times more for Sully. Even he got married to a woman named Florence (@missdictatorme I had to) and when he was twenty years younger, he knew how to do her good.

"Alright, old man." - Eighteen-year-old Tom sat next to his father and grinned at him in the Drake-typical way with his corner-turning upwards and his eyebrows risen a little. - "Might I ask you for some tips and tricks? I think I really love her and I need to be gentle with her so she would enjoy as well."

"I might be an old man," - Sam grinned and looked at his younger brother. - "But I think your mom doesn't think so at times. Am I right, boys?" - He looked at Sully and Nathan, and every one of them laughed a bit. Sully was a really old man; each one of them was considered old, and he was now sitting on a wheelchair. He could walk, but those years of treasure hunting hadn't done any good to his poor knees.

"Ew, Jesus. That's gross. I don't wanna think about that at all."

But they got him some useful tips. Like: don't try to find her vanana on her stomach or when you stick a finger inside, make sure it's wet and don't your hand just, you know, stuck out there. Move it.

They had a great bond. Otherwise, he and Samuel would never talk about it this openly.

You two as parents got a lot of fun with your son, especially when he was nineteen and he was ready to try some new stuff. You knew he will get drunk - but when he vomited all over your terrace and when you heard him speak and say I love you for a million times while you recorded him, you had the fucking time of your whole life. Don't worry, you made it clean up after himself.

Samuel recorded all of his son's bullshit - how he spoke when he had eaten those weed-brownies when you were camping in the wood while he was eight and somehow he got his shit on his earlobe when he totally burned your Christmas sweets... Baby, there is a lot of your son's mistakes you had a proof for.

But the biggest fun actually came when he wanted to try weed. You and Sam acted a bit mad, but you knew it had to come at one point.

So, in the end, you told him "Okay, you're eighteen, so you're in law, but we'll do it together so when something happens, we are with you". And of course, he went like "Wtf no".

But you have all of that shit recorded, and when you have your bad day, you just play the speech of your stoned son. It's embarrassing and he wanted you to delete it immediately - so you knew you'll play it at his wedding.

But when it came to Annie, his baby princess and a flawless small girl being in the same age his son were when he started his sexual life, oh dear lord.

A boy looked into her direction? Sam was there, looking at him like "touch her and I would fucking break your hands, hands and penis, punk".

But you knew it is going to happen someday, so you went all in about hormonal pills, condoms, other sources of protection, you told her a hundred times that she shouldn't do it because every girl has done it but because she loves somebody... And she was like "mom, you've told me a million times and I'm not an idiot."

But you know - Tom, now a twenty-two-year-old adult, and his fiancée moved into a flat together, so you took care of Annie even more intensely.

Annie accepted your opinions if they were useful and not too idiot-sounding like. But you know girls her age - she was sure that Samuel is a huge dick who just wants to make her life harder.

And he almost fainted when she came home with a boyfriend. His name was David.

In your opinion, he was a nice boy, he was really nice to you and your daughter and polite to Samuel as well. They got through everything together - first kiss, boob-touching, making out, even first sex.

Annie even married him five years after that evening. And they moved out as well.

At the end of the day, besides for your son getting high as a kite when he was just five years old, your daughter accidentally drinking aid alcohol, losing your children in the mall a few times, a heck of bruises and a load of embarrassing, childhood stories... You were good parents.

And your son and your daughter knew that they were very lucky to have you because you taught them how to love and enjoy life and every time they need you for anything...

You were there for them.

#samuel drake #samuel drake headcanons #uncharted #daddy sammy #he would be great #i love this #had a ton of fun #hope you’ll enjoy it as well #have a nice day

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