#uhh anyway check out my fic if you’re so inclined!

[buckys-black-dress]

a fine line, part two

a/n: here she is, our promised part two of afl!!! honestly i love writing this series and it has almost all my fav things in one fic, so yup. anyways, again, thank you for reading/sharing/liking my work !! luv u all, x -ali

wc: 5.8k !!!

-

The tension in the room was palpable.

And although no one knew you two were working together by verbal confirmation, it was clear from the way you were both reacting.

Bucky was rarely this quiet, so it was obvious what was going on.

Also the fact that you seemed frozen in place.

“Y/N? Everything okay?” Wanda’s soft voice filtered in next to you.

You nodded, trying to break away from James’ gaze.

“Mhm, who’re you working with?” You ask, moving away from the topic at hand.

“Oh, you know Professor Vision? He teaches Comp Sci.” Wanda is now visibly blushing, making you curious.

“Ooh, does Wanda have a crush?” Natasha chimes in as she sidles up next to you two. “I got Banner. How about you, Y/N?”

“I uhh, I got... Barnes.” You mumble under your breath.

“Who? I didn’t catch what you said there.” Natasha’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I... I got Dr. Barnes.” You said, not even daring to look up at your friends.

“...Oh. Well, that should be... interesting...” Wanda comments.

“...Yeah. It’ll probably be fine!” Natasha tries to comfort you, but there’s a stirring feeling in your stomach that almost makes you feel sick.

“He said there was no way to change it... right?” You ask feebly, trying to hold out hope.

“No... and I wouldn’t want to go head to head with Fury.” Wanda frowns.

“Great.” You conclude, taking a deep breath. “You know what, I can do this. It’s fine, I’ll be fine.” You tell the girls, gathering your things and filing out of the office as people began to leave.

Wanda and Natasha were left watching your retreating form, staring at each other.

“I’ll be surprised if they make it to the end of next week.” Natasha says, earning a shove in her arm from Wanda.

Bucky watched you leave the office, and the gears were most definitely turning in his head.

-

You spent the rest of the week keeping mostly to yourself, trying to mentally prepare for what you’d have to face next week.

In the email sent out by Fury, he explained that you and your partner should have a lesson outlined prior to Monday so you could get right into teaching. He also explained that you would have to share all of your classes, and somehow correlate the two subjects that each professor taught.

English and History, seems easy, right?

Wrong.

Every idea you’ve emailed James has been shot down, and your patience was wearing thin. You didn’t like being unprepared, and the week would be coming to a close soon.

So naturally, you did what anyone else would do, and knocked on James’ office door until he answered.

“I’m comin’ jeez, would ya hold on?” You hear his voice, muffled by the door, until he swings it open, coming face to face with you. “What do you need, Y/L/N?”

“Oh, lovely to see you too, Dr. Barnes. I just wanted to know if you were actually interested in making our lesson plan. If we’re going to be spending the next few weeks together, we might as well have a plan. And I thought your input might be better, since you’re clearly not a fan of what I’ve shown you so far.” You rambled, moving to stand in the middle of his office, laptop in hand.

“You know, maybe if you sent anything good, I would’ve worked with ya on it. But I just don’t think your style of teaching fits me. It’s too... too intimate. You’re too far up your students’ asses. You get too close, too personal with them.” James explains to you.

You can only scoff at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, James, but my students and I have great relationships. If my students don’t like me, or what I teach, they’ll be more inclined to hand in subpar work. But if I make my expectations clear from the start, they’ll know what they have to do to earn an A in my class. That’s why my first two semesters here have been averaging with A’s all across the board.” You explain as simply as you can, because you felt like James was ridiculing you and the way you teach. You worked hard to get where you are today, and you know that’s why your students love coming to class.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds, trying to process the information you dropped on him.

“So... your students... like you?” He asks, tentatively, almost.

“...Yes? I know you don’t like me, so it might hard to believe that others do, but I don’t think I’m that unappealing.” You scoff, looking at the floor to avoid Bucky’s eyes. “Anyways, do you have any ideas?”

Bucky’s chest tightened with guilt. After the incident at the bar, he was trying to not be as rude to you. He was trying to be more humane, in Steve’s words.

“I... Maybe we can take a look at some of the stuff you sent before. Maybe if you explain it to me face-to-face I’ll understand it better.” Bucky says, and you nod. “Take a seat, we’re gonna be here a while.”

As a few hours passed, you and James actually started a pretty solid outline for lessons. You started working on your first lesson, which would be the origins of literature. You could both talk about it, and you could both bring different aspects to the table.

“On average, how many kids do you have in your classes, Y/N?” James asks you, and your head snaps up at the mention of your first name. You had a moment where you imagine him calling you that way more often, making your throat run dry.

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat, “my biggest class is about thirty students, maximum.” You tell him.

“Really? My smallest is forty...” He tells you, scratching his chin. “Also very male dominated, I’ve noticed.”

You freeze, trying to process this. It’s only ten more kids... you’ll be fine, right?

“You alright, there, Y/L/N?” James chuckles, to which you let out a weak one. You weren’t used to large crowds, they made you anxious, nervous, like you were losing your footing.

“I-I’m fine. Yeah, all good, let’s get back to work.” You tell him, focusing back on your lesson plan.

“It’s uh, getting a bit late. Thinking we should head home soon.” James looks at you a bit longer, trying to gauge your mood.

“Uh- oh, what time is it?” You ask, squinting and cursing yourself for leaving your glasses in your office.

“It’s almost 7:30...” He tells you.

“Oh, I have to go! Lucy, she’s been all alone, I have to feed her!” In a panic, you begin gathering your belongings.

“Lu- Who’s Lucy?” James asks in clear confusion at your sudden panic.

“My cat! Oh, poor baby, she’s probably wondering where I’ve been...” You trail off, making sure you’ve gathered everything you need.

“W-wait, can I get your number?” James asks, and you both freeze.

“M-my number?” You ask, not bothering to hide your shock.

“Well, we’re gonna need to discuss the lesson plan somehow...” He tells you.

“Oh... well, here...” You pull off a post-it note from the pad on his desk and quickly scribble down your number, handing it to him. “I’m not usually on my phone too much, so if I don’t answer within a few hours, try shooting me an email.” You explain, making your way out the door.

“Have a good night, James.” He hears you say quietly before you turn away from the doorframe, and he hears the resonating shutting of your office door not even five minutes later.

Bucky sits in his chair, not having moved an inch from when you left. He stares at the blue post-it with your number scribbled on it.

He picked it up, inspecting it further.

Your handwriting was neat, but flourishing and borderline cursive because of how quickly you wrote.

Bucky pulls out his phone and inputs the number, saving your contact.

Y/N Y/L/N

He then types out a message:

Just wanted to text you so I wouldn’t lose your number. Hope Lucy is okay.

And he hits send, deciding to pack up his things, trying to understand why he chose to include your cat in his message.

And on your end when you check your phone after parking in your apartment building’s parking, you see a message from an unknown number. You choose to not answer until you’ve made it into your apartment and feed Lucy.

You open your messages, staring at it. Something in your chest fluttered, but you pass it off as your hunger, waiting for your dinner to warm up in the oven.

Hi James. Lucy is fine, thanks for worrying. Have a good night.

You send it off, saving his contact but choosing to not look at your phone until after you’ve finished everything that you needed to do.

After finishing some grading, doing the dishes, and adding to the lesson plan, you decide to settle into bed with a book. You check your phone while brushing your teeth.

James Barnes: Good to hear. Do you think we could work on the lesson plan over lunch tomorrow? Just so we can get ahead of the game.

Y/N Y/L/N: Sounds good. Are we still going to also meet up after classes?

It takes a few minutes before your phone dings again.

James Barnes: Yep. Do you want to just come by my place after? Kind of getting stir-crazy in my office. We could also order food.

You stare at your phone. Are you going crazy? Why is he being so... kind?

Before you could even respond, another ping pulls you back out of your thoughts.

James Barnes: You could also bring Lucy with you, if you don’t want to leave her alone at home for too long.

Okay, now you were sure you were going insane. He was being way too nice. Where was this attitude a year ago, when you’d first met him?

But then again, it wouldn’t hurt, right? You were trying to get out of your comfort zone...

Y/N Y/L/N: Sure, that’s good. Are you sure it would be okay if I brought Lucy? I wouldn’t want to impose on your personal space.

His reply was almost instant.

James Barnes: No, I don’t mind at all. Alpine would love the company.

Before you could even wonder who Alpine was, you remember your previous conversation with Steve once.

‘Bucky also has a cat...’

Y/N Y/L/N: Okay, then I’ll be there. You also have a cat?

James Barnes: Oh, yeah. He’s the sweetest. *1 Attachment.*

Opening the image, you see a fluffy, stark white cat. He had big eyes that anyone would swoon over. You look at the foot of your bed where Lucy is curled up into a ball, fast asleep. You carefully snap a picture, smiling at her.

Y/N Y/L/N: I’ll admit, he’s cute. But can he compete with her? *1 Attachment*

You smile, seeing the typing bubble, waiting for him to respond.

James Barnes: Doll, no one can compete with Al. But I can’t deny, Lucy’s a gem.

Reading over the message at least seven times, your eyes keep lingering over the first word. Doll. It was in a loop in your head, the only thought you were having was that one word.

Why did he call me that? Is he flirting with me? No... he doesn’t even like me! But then why would he be talking to me right now? And why would he send me a picture of his cat...

And now your hands were working faster than your brain, typing out a quick response with your stomach doing backflips.

Y/N Y/L/N: Alright, whatever you say, Bucky. I’m heading to bed, good night.

And you don’t wait for a response before shutting off your phone and plugging it in, putting it on do not disturb and abandoning it on your nightstand, flipping open your book. You were trying to clear your thoughts but miserably failing.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky responded with a wide smile at the sight of you using his nickname.

James Barnes: Sweet dreams, Y/N.

That night, Bucky fell asleep with Alpine on the pillow next to him, but a wide smile on his face and his stomach full of butterflies.

Little did he know, so were you.

-

The next day, you woke up feeling like a brand new woman. You got a decent amount of sleep. You got out of bed and made coffee before you left the house. You arrived to school way earlier than usual.

To be honest, you didn’t know what was going on.

James was being nice. To you. Why the sudden change of heart? Or maybe he was going back to acting like an asshole when he sees you in person. You didn’t really know what to expect.

Honestly, what you expected the least was for a knock to be heard on your door, 15 minutes before your first class of the day.

“Come in!” You say, expecting a student or maybe Natasha or Wanda.

But the door swings open, and there’s James. He’s standing there with two paper bags, undoubtedly from the bakery down the street.

“Hi.” He says. Not offering anything. No explanation, no emotion. No indication of our conversation last night.

“Hi. Did you need something?” You ask, and for once, it wasn’t in a dismissive or cold tone.

“Uh, no. Just wondering if you’ve eaten anything yet today?” James asks, holding up the bags in his hand.

“Uhm... no...” You tell him, not understanding why he was asking.

“Oh, well I have an extra croissant, if you’d like.” He holds up the bags once again.

“Sure, you can sit in here to eat if you’d like...” You offer, not sure of the water you were treading in.

“Oh, thanks.” He sits down and you both pull out the pastries and start eating. “So, how’s Lucy today?” James asks, a slight smirk on his face. You honestly couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you or not.

“Uh, she-she’s good. Clingy as usual. How’s Alpine?” You return the question.

“Same for him, also clings to me like a koala when I leave, I always feel bad, but I don’t really have a choice.” You both giggle at the remark, nodding in agreement.

“I understand. Lucy’s still a kitten too, so she’s been getting attached a lot. But I think I need her just as bad as she needs me.” You tell him, and you don’t know why.

“Oh... no boyfriend?” James asks, and now you really can’t tell if he’s pulling your leg.

“Oh-” You giggle, covering your mouth. “That’s funny. No, no boyfriend.” You continue to laugh until you fall back into silence, and James is just watching you.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, genuinely perplexed at your reaction.

“James, I don’t think either of us are idiots. I don’t think I come off as girlfriend material to most guys.” You laugh again.

It became quiet, and you look back to your computer, ready to end this awkward conversation. You knew you had your insecurities, but it had always been hard for you to put yourself out there. Especially for guys. Your anxiety and introverted nature really put a pause on your already non-existent dating life.

Besides, you’ve always been alone. And you didn’t think that would be changing any time soon.

“Okay, well I’m gonna head out. I have a class to prepare for. See you tonight?” James asks, getting up from his seat across from you.

“Y-Yeah, I’ll see you then. Could you text me your address and what time I should be there?” You ask, also gathering your lecture notes and laptop.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Bye.” He waves, leaving. As soon as he steps out, you hear the clicking of heels against the laminate flooring.

“Why was Bucky in here?” Natasha’s gravelly voice asks, looking confused as ever.

“He just brought me a croissant, we were talking about our lesson plan for next week.” You explain to her. “Walk with me to my lecture?” You ask, pointing out the door.

“Sure,” she agrees, waiting for you to lock the door, “so, have things been... civil between you two?” Natasha asks tentatively.

“Actually, yes. He’s not all that bad. I’m going to his place after classes to work on the lesson plan, he asked me yesterday to even bring Lucy over so she could meet Alpine.” You tell her.

“Oh- wow, really? He’s being so... nice to you...” She responds.

“I-I know... I don’t understand why... He made it clear he doesn’t really enjoy my company.” You respond.

“Yeah... Well, this is new. I hope he keeps up with it.” She pats you on the shoulder as you reach the lecture hall.

“Yeah, me too.” You say, turning to her before going in.

“Hey, can I stop by your office for something at lunch?”

“Sure, see you then!” You tell her, setting up for your class.

-

Lunch time comes around, and Natasha was already waiting for you when you finished your class by lunchtime. You remembered James also asking to come by to eat with you and work, so you tried to make it quick with Natasha.

“So, you and Bruce already finished your lesson plans?” You ask, looking for a booklet she needed.

“Yeah, he’s fun to work with. Kinda a nerd, but he knows his shit.” She says, smiling and leaning against your desk. “Any reason you’re in a rush?” She asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, uh, James is coming to eat here so we can get ahead on the lesson.” You tell her, looking back through your drawer.

“That’s... interesting.” Natasha’s brows were drawn together. “You two seem to have a lot of time allotted together.”

“Well, we have only a little of our lessons done, and we really don’t want to show up unprepared. You know how much I hate that.” You tell her, finally finding what she needed.

Outside your office, James was just about to walk in when he heard your voices.

“Yeah... Just wondering, did he ever... apologize for what he said that one night?” Nat asks.

“Uhm, n-no. He’s been really kind to be as of late, so I’m assuming we’re turning a new leaf... But he makes me... nervous sometimes. Just a few days ago, he wouldn’t even look at my lesson plan ideas. He looked like he would rather violently bash his skull in than work with me. I’m just- I’m confused. What made him change his mind?” You think out loud, really wondering if James’ behavior was genuine.

“Y/N, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I think you should give him a chance. Don’t be so weary. If he’s being nice, don’t question it. I don’t know why he was like that with you from the beginning, but you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over the fact that he’s actually treating you with respect.” Natasha puts her hand over yours, meeting your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I know. I know I deserve respect, but it’s been hard lately. Ever since my family stopped talking to me, I feel like a failure. They don’t understand that I deserve that respect either. They think teaching is a shit job, they think I won’t get anywhere in life with it. I’m just sick and tired of them acting like I didn’t work hard to get where I am today.”

I talked to my brother the other day, and he said the same thing they’ve been saying since I started my PhD. ‘You’re not gonna get anywhere with this, you should get a boyfriend, we want grandkids.’ Like, okay! I get it! But where the hell am I supposed to find a guy when the cute one doesn’t even like me!? And my last boyfriend was in my undergrad. I feel a like teenager. I have literally no romantic life.” You huff out, absolutely tired of this.

“I- Y/N, I’m so sorry. You deserve a family that’s supportive of you and your passions. I hope Wanda and Carol and I have maybe helped you, kind of like a work family, y’know?” She holds your hand tighter. “We’ll always be here for you.”

You smile, walking around your desk to hug her.

“Thank you, Nat. I appreciate you all so much. I don’t think you’ll ever really know.” You hug her tightly before letting go. “James should be here any minute now, but we’ll talk more after class?”

“You betcha, but don’t think I forgot what you said... Maybe he does like you.” She says, and your face turns beet red.

“Natasha, no. I think he’s made it very clear he’s not into me. Like, at all. I’m surprised we’re even working together. I didn’t think he would cooperate.” You laugh. “Okay, seriously, you gotta go. I don’t want him to walk in on us talking about him.”

“Okay, okay, talk later. Bye, Y/N.” She says, making her way out, and Bucky pushes himself against the wall, hoping she wouldn’t see him.

“Don’t forget what we talked about, yeah?” She says to him, not even looking back. Natasha only stops when she doesn’t hear his response, turning around. “Listen to me, Bucky. We may be friends, but so are Y/N and I. I don’t know if it was me or Steve who finally knocked some sense into the dumb head of yours, but if she comes to me again, crying, telling me she can’t take it from you anymore, I promise; you’ll be off this faculty faster than you can say ‘tenure.’ Now, am I understood, Barnes?” Natasha concludes, completely in Bucky’s personal space.

“I- yes. I understand.” He gulps, looking down at his hands. “I-I’ve been trying. To be nice to her. I know what I did before was wrong, but I’m trying, okay? Steve and I had a... a long talk.”

“Yeah, whatever. This better not just be a one-time-thing. From here on out, I want no complaints from her. She’s been through enough shit, and she doesn’t need any more from you. I have somewhere to be, and so do you.” Natasha says, parting ways and letting Bucky release a breath he didn’t know he was holding in.

He composes himself one last time, and walks into your office.

“Hi, James.” You give him a soft smile, “Take a seat, we’ve got work to do.”

-

When your last lecture finished, you made your way home to get what you needed to head to James’ apartment. He’d texted you the address and told you you could come by any time after 6:30.

You were thinking back on your lunch break with him. He was quiet, almost nervous to be sitting in front of you, and you couldn’t understand for the life of you why.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so demure, and you wonder why he was suddenly so shy. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated to make a remark, or take a jab at you. But now, he was quiet as a mouse.

It was concerning, to say the least.

So, on your way to his apartment, which was a solid 15 minutes drive, you call Natasha for advice.

“Hey. Can I talk to you about something?” You ask while you drive.

“Yeah, everything alright?” Natasha’s voice filters through your car’s speakers.

“Oh, I’m fine, but did something happen with James? He was acting so... odd today... He was so quiet, so nice. His behavior has been so different lately.” Your brows were furrowed, genuinely trying to crack this puzzle.

“Uh... well, isn’t it a good thing?” She asks.

“I mean, yes, but did someone say something to him?” You ask, puzzled.

“Uh, no...” lie, “maybe he’s just turning over a new leaf, Y/N. I think you should stop worrying yourself over it so much. And if you really want answers, just confront him about it.” Natasha concludes.

“...Okay. You’re right. I think I’m just reading too much into this. I need to go, I’m almost there. Thanks, Nat.” You tell her.

“Bye, Y/N. Good luck.” And the line goes dead.

“Looks like it’s just me and you now, Luce.” You look over at her carrier in the seat next to yours, where she’s curled up into a ball inside.

-

Once you park and text James to let him know you’re on your way up, you sling your laptop bag over your shoulder and grab Lucy’s carrier.

As you make your way inside, you stop at the concierge desk, where an older man with grey hair and glasses greets you. His name tag reads Stan.

“Hi, I’m here to see James Barnes?” You tell him, looking at the grandiosity of the lobby.

“Ah, yes, Ms. Y/L/N?” He asks, and you nod. “He said he was expecting you. Not that I don’t trust you, but I just need a form of ID before I can let you up.” You nod again, handing over you driver’s license.

He hands it back, giving an approving nod.

“Elevators are to the right, he’s in 12B.” Stan tells him, and you give him appreciative ‘thank you’ before you scurry to the elevator.

When you knock on his door, it takes a second for him to open it, a faint ‘Al, one second!’ resonating through the door, making you snort out a laugh.

“Hey, sorry about that. Come in,” Bucky finally appears, swinging his door wide open.

You walk in, setting down Lucy and taking your shoes off.

“So, is Alpine friendly with other cats?” You ask, weary of unzipping the carrier.

“Of course he is. Why wouldn’t he be?” He asks, but stops when he sees your expression fall.

“S-Sorry, I wasn’t trying to imply anything, It’s just- Lucy’s a bit shy, but she typically likes other cats.” You say, looking down at her.

“I-I’m sorry- that was rude. I wasn’t trying to sound like an ass, I swear. Alpine’s friendly with other cats, but he needs a little time to warm up to other people. Don’t take it personally if he isn’t too fond of you at first.” He laughs, directing you to his couch where Alpine was perched.

“Oh, hi baby!” You coo, holding out your hand to Alpine. He tentatively inspects you with his eyes, first, and then sniffs you. He then, his head buts against your hand, asking for affection.

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up, shocked at how friendly Alpine was being. He barely even looked at Steve and Sam when they come by. But here he was, purring and shoving himself against you.

“Well, I think Lucy won’t have a problem with him at all.” You smile, bringing the carrier over to the end of the couch and unzipping it, letting Lucy move at her own pace.

At first, she just wearily looks at Alpine and the unfamiliar setting. She then looks at you, where you encouragingly coo at her, making sure she was comfortable.

Bucky gazes at the whole scene with a soft look, watching as Lucy slowly saunters out of the carrier, sniffing Alpine and the couch. Soon enough, Alpine sniffs back, and they start playing with each other, forgetting their owners completely.

You both laugh at how well they were getting along, and the contrast between the black and white furs making it that much better.

“Well, should we get started?” You ask, finally turning to Bucky with a big smile.

In that moment, his throat goes dry, and all he can think is... She has a beautiful smile.

“James? Everything alright?” You ask, breaking him out of his trance.

“I- Yes! Sorry, got distracted for a minute... Would you prefer Italian or Chinese for dinner?” He asks, shaking his head and trying to change the subject.

“Uhm, I don’t mind, whatever you’d like.” You smile, grabbing your laptop.

“So... Italian, then?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Sure.” You answer. “Where can we sit to work?”

“Oh, the table’s fine, we can eat while we work, too. Let me go order really quick.” He excuses himself after pointing to his dining table, and heading into the kitchen.

When Bucky reaches the kitchen, he takes a second to compose himself. He pinches in between his brows, his eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t know why he was acting like a teenager, he felt himself get flustered around you.

After he pulls himself together, he orders the food and comes back outside, finding you focused on something extremely intently on your screen.

“James, what do you think for something like this for a more interactive activity?” You ask, turning your computer to him, waiting for him to read the plan, biting your lip nervously.

“This- this is awesome, doll. This looks really good, the students would love this.” He tells you, reading over it one more time.

“O-Oh, thanks.” You thank him shyly, stomach fluttering while looking down at your lap again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings, breaking the silence.

“Oh, the food-” James moves to grab his wallet, but you grab his wrist, stopping him.

“James, you’ve already been so hospitable, let me get it-” You say, but he shakes off your hand and shakes his head.

“No, I can’t let you do that, I insist,” he responds, beating you to the door and handing the delivery man his card, letting him ring it up quickly.

You huff, sitting back down in your spot with a pout.

“James, you suck,” you huff, visibly annoyed. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Now, let’s eat. You good with red wine?” He asks, pulling out two wine glasses.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You say, unpacking the food as he pours some wine.

As he sets down some plates, he sees your expression still pouty, like a child.

“Y/N, stop pouting.” You look so cute. “You can get it next time.” I wish I could kiss you.

“Oh, there’s gonna be a next time?” You ask, your face turning red yet again.

“I mean, we’re going to have to make more lesson plans, depending on how long Fury keeps this up.” He laughs, but you freeze at his words.

It’s true, you think to yourself, we’re probably going back to how it was before when this is all over. That’s probably why he’s being nice to me.

“Hey, you alright? Did I say something?” James asks, a concerned look on his face.

“N-No, you’re good. Sorry. Ready to eat?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Yeah... You sure everything’s okay?” He asks again, trying to make sure.

“James, everything is okay, please. Let’s just eat.” You smile, placing a hand over his in reassurement.

-

Dinner was delicious, and now you and James were sipping on wine while working, occasionally checking on Lucy and Alpine.

“Hey, do you think a group project could work? I usually give some to my students, I have a template I follow, but you could change it to your liking-” James tells you, but you cut him off with your thoughts.

“James, can I ask you a question?” You ask, hovering a hand over his.

“S-Sure. What’s up?” He sounds weary.

“You know, before we started this project, you like... loathed me.” You say. “Why?” Your voice breaks at that last word, barely getting it out of your throat.

“I... I just-” He takes a deep breath and looks down, grabbing your hand, “I thought you were... snobby, stuck up. I thought you came to this school thinking you were better than everyone else, that you were here to one-up us all.”

And before you could cut him to deny it with your shaking head, he continues.

“And I know now that I was wrong. I-I’m so sorry for the way I spoke to you, especially at the bar. After you left and Steve took me home, he basically yelled at me and told me how what I thought of you was completely off. I shouldn’t have assumed all those things about you, and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me, one day.” He concludes, holding onto your hand so tightly to convey just how sorry he was.

“I- Oh, James. Y-You know, I never meant to come off that way. I just- I’ve always had trouble making friends and talking to people, and things have been hard recently. I never meant to make you o-or anyone else, for that matter, to feel that way. I’m so sorry.” You say, tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Y/N, doll.” James moves out of his seat, wrapping you in his arms. “I can’t even tell you how much I wish I was more open-minded, more patient. Ever since Steve and Nat have talked to me, I’ve been just-”

“Nat? What has Natasha told you?” You stop him, pulling away.

“She- she just told me to stop. She told me you’ve been going through a lot, and that I wasn’t making it any better for you so-”

“Did she say what? Why would she tell you about my personal life-” You begin to ramble and waving your hands around.

“Doll, no she didn’t-”

“She had no right to say-”

But before you could continue, Bucky cuts you off.

With his lips.

Against yours.

Bucky was kissing you.

Oh my god, he’s kissing me!

You pull away looking at him in utter shock.

“Wh- What did you do that for?”

“I just- You were rambling, but I didn’t know how else to stop you.” James says, a blush creeping up his neck.

“So you kissed me?” You ask incredulously.

“Uh- yes?” He says, more like asks.

“I uh... I have to go.” You say, looking anywhere but his eyes as you gather your items, hunting down Lucy and putting her in her carrier; much to her protest and distaste.

“Y-Y/N, please, don’t go. Let’s just talk!” James pleads, but you’re not listening.

“N-No, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you in class next week. Bye, James.” You huff out, running to the nearest stairwell.

A part of you wanted him to run after you, but you needed time to process... whatever that was.

Did he kiss you because he liked you? Or because he wanted to shut you up?

You cut the drive home into half, the first thing you do after getting through your door is calling Natasha.

“Nat, I fucked up...” Your voice was weak through the phone.

And back in Bucky’s apartment, he dialed Steve’s number.

“Steve, I fucked up... real bad.” He meekly provides, his head in his hands.

-

a/n: oh boy. what’s gonna happen ??? hmmm... let me know down below! hope you guys enjoyed ;)

also, did y’all peep my stan lee cameo? :)

[jessiesparkes]

Twinning With a Twist - The Advertisement!

So uhh since it’s getting a bit of attention I figured I oughta do something about it, so I’m here to sell you on my fanfiction! Twinning With a Twist is a Total Drama fanfic that stars Sammy as the main character. It’s a fic that tries to do her justice by giving her a much healthier character development arc compared to canon, while also taking a closer look at a few other characters too, namely Amy and Ella.

The premise is that, due to a seemingly random occurrence happening at the very beginning of the game, Sammy ends up on team Waneyihtam Maskwak instead of her original team, separating her from Amy’s controlling nature and placing her with others who would, in theory, be much more empathetic to her troubles. Now she has support coming from multiple directions, and she’s able to tackle her issues with the help that I feel she deserves.

You can find the fic both on FanFiction.net and Archive of Our Own, and there’s also a TV Tropes page that you can add to if you feel like it!

I put pretty much over a full-year’s worth of work and effort into this so it would mean a lot to me if you checked it out! A lot of reviewers really enjoyed the story and I’m inclined to believe them hehe. There are some things I wish I could go back and change but hey, that’s true for everyone. No one is perfect! The story is still good anyway so don’t let that deter you!

There’s also a companion piece, Dance of the Sugar Plum Pixie, that takes place during the penultimate chapter of the main work (FF.net and Ao3). This one should be read after the second to last Twinning chapter, as there are heavy spoilers for it. While it’s probably not exactly necessary to read, I highly recommend it because it has some really good development and growth for one of the characters!

Also! There are plans in the works to continue the story through sequels and such! I have a boatload of ideas I want to see come to fruition, though chances are they’ll take a while to actually get done. I’m working hard but life keeps me distracted, so please wait patiently if you’re waiting for them at all!

Okay thank you for your time, and if you decide to read it I’d be eternally grateful!

[porkchop-ao3]

Pierced

I was speaking to @hoodoo12 and she posed the question; would Ice Cream Rick consider getting his nipple(s) pierced for his girlfriend? And the question set my brain off with a whole new headcanon for him. He's an absolute drama queen when it comes to pain, so... This fic was born ;3 

You might have noticed in my latest NSFW art that he had his nipple pierced, and this is the story behind it. This fic is SFW, just a little playful... Groping? Hmm. Anyway, it's 2.7k words and heavily dialogue based. Enjoy! :)

-

Rick's palm was sweaty as he held my hand, his grip way tighter than usual. I glanced over at him and watched as he gnawed at his bottom lip.

“You okay?” I asked, squeezing his hand once. It seemed to startle him and he quickly looked at me.

“Y-yeah. I'm just- I'm about to have a needle shoved into me.” He reminded me, as if I'd forgotten the reason we'd come here.

“You don't have to do this. I know I said I liked them but I didn't mean I thought you should get them.” I said softly.

“N-no! I want them. Originally I wanted to do this to please you, b-but the more I think about it the more I like the idea.” He told me, and he seemed honest enough.

“We'll match.” I grinned at him. A smile appeared on his face and he seemed to visibly relax just a little.

-

It'd come up in conversation a few nights ago. We'd been laying in bed together, I was the big spoon and I'd been idly playing with his nipples, rolling them between my fingers, flicking them from side to side, generally just fiddling with him like he so often let me do. He didn't seem to mind, and if he did he didn't mention it. Honestly I'd thought at the time that he was asleep, but the low chuckle in his throat that came when his nipples grew hard informed me that he was not.

“Did I wake you?” I asked him.

“No baby, I've been awake just enjoying being your toy. You like playing with me?” He murmured, breaking out of my grip so he could roll over to face me.

“You know I do.” I laughed, bringing my hands to his chest, feeling his hard nipples against my palms.

“Can I play with yours like that?” He questioned, quirking a brow mischievously.

“Of course.” I grinned. He looked down at my breasts, both of us were nude under the sheets.

“I wouldn't wanna hurt you.” He whispered, remembering the piercings in my nipples.

“I don't think you would. I know you're gentle.” I purred, closing the gap between us and wrapping my arms around his neck so our chests pressed together.

“They don't get sore?” He asked. I shrugged as best I could in my position.

“Not really. Like I said, you're gentle.” I kissed his forehead once. “I've never thought to ask what you think of them.”

“Your nipple piercings? I like them. I think they're sexy.” He told me, tightening his hold on me and smirking.

“Yeah? Good. I think they are too.” I grinned. He chuckled, looking down at my lips.

“Wh-what about on guys, you like them on dudes?” He asked me, looking back up to my eyes curiously.

“Hell yeah.” I giggled.

“You want me to get mine done?” He asked, catching me off guard. My lips parted and I struggled to respond for a while.

“Woah. I mean, if you want them, I'm certainly not opposed. I think you'd look hot.” I smirked, kissing his temple, then his cheek.

“Yeah? I've often wondered about it…” He mused, just letting me shower his face with kisses.

“Rick, are you being serious? Do you wanna get your nips done?” I asked him, pulling back to get a good look at his face. He looked serious.

“Yeah, fuck it. Why not?” He laughed.

“It hurts.” I warned and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I've had piercings before.” He told me. I glanced at his ear.

“Yeah, a lobe.” I snorted.

“What, that not a real piercing?” He smirked in amusement.

“Oh, it's a real piercing. I'm just saying, the pain is way worse.” I told him truthfully and glanced off to the side and thought about it.

“I'm sure I can handle it.” He shrugged.

“Okay.” I laughed. “If you're sure.”

“I'm dead sure.” He told me, stroking my spine up and down. “You'll come with me, right? Hold my hand?” He teased, leaning forwards so our noses touched.

“Yeah, sure baby.” I told him with a laugh.

-

Honestly I'd thought it was just talk and he'd have forgotten about it by sunrise, but I was wrong. And so we were sat in the reception area of a local piercing studio, waiting to be called in. Rick had signed all the appropriate forms and we had paid, and now all we had to do was get it done!

“Okay, I'm ready for you. Come on in.” The piercer, a woman covered in tattoos with bleached blond hair and a piercing across the bridge of her nose (among others), popped her head out of the door and called for us. Rick took a breath before rising to his feet, tugging me along with him. The room was small but looked neat, organised and clean, and the piercer shut the door behind us.

Rick only let go of my hand when he was asked to take his shirt off. I held onto it for him, and the piercer came around to his front wearing a pair of gloves and holding a cotton ball soaked in some sort of antibacterial cleanser.

“So we're going for both nipples, right? Anything funky with them? Some folks like 'em done on an angle.” She said as she leaned in and wiped the area around his nipples thoroughly.

“Uhh, just normal- like, straight across.” He told her before going right back to gnawing on his lip. Poor guy looked terrified!

“Awesome. That makes my life a lot easier.” The piercer laughed, discarding the cotton in the bin before turning to the counter behind her. When she turned back, she had a cocktail stick dipped in ink in her hand. “I'm just gonna mark you up, we'll do it standing coz sitting down can change the angle and they'll come out wonky.” She explained.

She stared intently at his chest as she carefully lined up the cocktail stick, pressing a little dot onto each side of each nipple. She looked at him from different angles, like analysing a piece of artwork or something. Well, I was often inclined to do the same…

“Okay. They look good to me, you wanna check in the mirror, see if you're happy?” She smiled, straightening up and gesturing to the wall mounted mirror next to him. Rick turned and had a look, then showed me.

“What do we reckon?” He asked. I studied his nipples more closely than I ever had before, and came to my conclusion.

“They look even.” I nodded with a smile. Rick continued to stare at me for a while, gnawing on his lip. His cheeks were a little pink and his breath was coming quick. Despite all this, he turned back to the piercer.

“Ok, we're good.” Rick nodded, then he was told to take a seat on the reclined lounger in the center of the room. He settled into it, clearing his throat and fidgeting for a while. I wanted to approach him, give him my hand to hold, but at the same time I didn't want to get in the way. It was as if the piercer could read my mind though.

“If he needs some moral support, I'll be starting with the right one, so you can come and stand over here.” She said.

“Hah, moral support.” Rick chuckled, but he couldn't hide the nerves in his voice. I came over and offered him my hand. Despite the bravado, he took it.

“We're going to use barbells, not rings. It'll help with the healing process since there isn't as much pressure on it, but if you're desperate for rings I can do that too. But like I said, I recommend bars.” The piercer said as she prepared everything she needed.

“B-bars are fine.” Rick nodded. I stroked my thumb over the back of his hand and gave him a quick kiss to the temple while the piercer's back was turned.

“Alright then. We're ready when you are.” She said turning around and dragging over a portable station, needles and jewelry were all laid out. Rick made a weird, involuntary noise.

“Fuck it, l-let's get on with it.” He said, taking another breath to steady himself.

“Alright. Just relax for me, I'm just gonna use the clamp so I know I'm piercing straight through. Bear with me while I line this up.” She said, trapping his nipple in this clamp thing that looked like a cross between a pair of scissors and some tweezers. It was interesting to see it all happen, I hadn't dared look when I had mine done.

“Ahh fuck!” Rick cried out, gripping onto my hand. It stunned me, and the piercer and I simultaneously looked up at him.

“I'm sorry, this can pinch.” She told him.

“Oh shit, that was just the- I thought you'd-” Rick stammered, staring down at his un-pierced nipple. His face went bright red immediately.

“I'm afraid we aren't done yet.” The piercer chuckled. “Don't worry, I'll tell you when I'm going to do it.”

“Oh fuck, fuck.” Rick said under his breath.

“Don't worry, it's all over in a couple of seconds.” I assured him.

“That's right. The worst part is just waiting for it to happen. But we're ready now. Okay. I'm going to pierce you on your third exhale, okay? Try to stay as still as possible, don't move.”

“Fuck, okay, fuck.” Rick nodded, closing his eyes. Holy shit, he was bricking it. “I'm sorry, I don't mean to swear so much.” He hastily added.

“I've heard it all before. Okay, breathe in for me, nice and slow. That's it, and out.” I watched as she lined up the needle with a steady hand. “In again, aaaand out. This last one I'm going to do it. In…”

My heart was pounding just watching.

“And out.” She said, immediately pushing the needle through. Rick's exhale turned into a cry of agony pretty damn quick, and my hand was crushed in his grip. He thrashed his legs as he groaned, breathing heavily through bared teeth.

“Fuuuuck!” He growled.

“Stay still, we're almost done with the first one.”

“Almost?! Fuck! It's not over?” He all but yelled.

“Stay still.” She repeated. “I'm putting the jewelry in now.”

I winced. From experience this was about as painful as the initial piercing. Rick must've agreed cause there was more yelling and growling.

“Oh fuck! Oh God, please, s-stop. Fuck!” Rick shouted, his nails digging into my hand.

“Ow!” I hissed.

“It's done!” The piercer sighed in relief, straightening up.

“Ohh my God. Oh my God. That was fucking awful.” Rick was whining, panting like he'd done a marathon.

“It looks fucking awesome though, look!” I grinned, prying my hand out of his grip.

“Does it? I do-don't- I don't wanna look.” He whimpered, opening his eyes only to look at me.

“Do you want a little break before I do the other one or shall I get it over and done with?” The piercer asked.

“No! N-no, that's enough, I'm not- I don't want-” Rick shook his head and sighed heavily. I petted his arm.

“Baby, you paid for both, the worst part's over. You know what to expect now!” I assured him.

“I don't want it! I ca- I can't. Fuck! It hurts. It's throbbing. Is that normal?”

“Yeah it's very normal, it should wear off in a few hours.”

“A few hours!?” Rick balked, practically sobbing, his hand moved towards his chest but I caught it.

“Don't touch it.” I warned him. “Just look at it, you'll feel better once you see how cool it looks!” I said.

“Ohh god.” He whined, taking a tentative glance down. “Oh shit, that's- wow- is- is it bleeding?” His voice was all wobbly.

“A little. That's normal too.” The piercer assured him. “Are we doing the other one?” She questioned, beginning to look a little vexed.

“Oh, shit… fuck… I guess so? I don't know.”

“Okay, same process, three breaths, I go on the third. Ready? Let's do it now, then it's all over.” She said, picking up the clamp again. She leaned in.

“Wait! N-no. I can't- I feel light headed.”

“Are you okay baby? Do you need some water?”

“I'll get some water.”

“Baby? Look at me.”

“Is he still with us?”

…

Rick looked completely dumbstruck when he came around. The piercer had prepared a glass of water and had brought a chocolate bar for him before leaving to give us a minute while he recovered fully. I'd been stroking his arm and trying not to panic the entire – what? – minute? That he'd been out.

“Shit. D-did I pass out?” He mumbled as he came to, sitting up. I placed my hand on his shoulder to keep him down.

“Take it slow, okay? Drink some water.” I handed him the plastic cup and he took a few tentative sips.

“Oh God, how fucking embarrassing.” Was his reaction to it all. I handed him the chocolate bar.

“It's okay. They see it every day. You should eat that.” I told him, continuously stroking his arm in a way I hoped was soothing him. My poor baby...

“Did she do the other one?” He asked, looking down.

“Of course not.” I shook my head. “I don't know if it's a good idea to-”

“No. Me neither.” He interrupted.

“Anyway, I kinda like just the one. Two would be too much.” I offered him a little smile.

“Lucky thing I made a scene, then.” He snorted, handing me the cup so he could open the chocolate bar.

“You're fine. I'm sure they've had worse.”

“I don't know, it's all flooding back to me now and I th-think I may have made a dick of myself.” He shook his head, laughing in self deprecation. He sighed and ate the chocolate bar.

“Well, no, not-” he was giving me a look that told me I shouldn't bother denying it. “Like I said. They've probably seen worse.” I repeated instead.

I let him eat, relieved that he seemed a lot calmer than before. The colour was returning to his face too; he'd looked scarily pale when he'd passed out. The piercer returned to the room after a moment to check on us.

“Feeling better?” She asked.

“Yeah.” He said, avoiding eye contact. “I'm good, I uh, I think I'm just gonna stick with the one piercing.”

“No worries. Would you like to reschedule for the other one?”

“No.” He was quick to respond.

“Alright. We'll get you a refund for the second one before you leave, but feel free to come back another time.” She told him.

“Yeah I doubt you'll be seeing me again.” He chuckled, stuffing the last of the snack into his mouth. “I think I'm good to go. Can I stand up yet?”

“Of course, but take it slow and sit down if you feel any dizziness.”

Rick nodded and shifted to sit on the edge of the seat. He took a second to look at himself in the mirror.

“Wow, it does look pretty good, don't it?” He grinned.

“I told you! Worth the pain?” I asked, smiling at him through the mirror. He laughed in uncertainty.

“I don't know yet. W-we'll see how it heals.”

“Let me get you your aftercare kit. I'll explain to you how to take care of it.” The piercer told him, disappearing off again.

“God, you look so badass!” I exclaimed, unable to take my eyes off his reflection. “I love it. Do you love it?”

“I do. It looks better than I thought it would.” He admitted, rising to his feet slowly.

“You good?” I asked him.

“I'm good.”

“Good. I'm driving us home, though.” I told him sternly. He nodded a little sheepishly at me. I came around the seat so I could take his hands. “I'm proud of you, baby!” I grinned, looking down at his new piercing.

“Jesus, don't be.” He rolled his eyes.

“I know how much it hurts, and you did it!” I cheered, squeezing his hands and going onto my tip-toes so I could peck his lips.

“Did uh, did you faint? Wh-when you had yours done?” He asked me. I was hesitant to answer, not wanting to make him feel worse.

“It doesn't matter, everyone's different!”

“You didn't, did you?” He deadpanned.

“No.” I whispered, averting my eyes as I heard him sigh. I couldn't tell what was hurting him more; his nipple or his pride.

[fantasticworldoffanfics]

DEREK/STILES FEATURE FIC

Fandom: TeenWolf

Just an exceptionally adorable fic that I thought is too good to be ignored….

We Den Our Hearts Here by ladylade

PROMPT: Derek accidentally adopts a litter of orphaned wolf cubs (they can be werewolves if you are so inclined, but are too young to change into human form. Maybe that can be like an age thing, like, Derek walks in one day to check on them and sees a human baby sitting there and he’s like ‘the fuck? Where the hell did that come from? wait a second….’) 

 Stiles is weirdly good with the cubs. They love him. Scott is kind of a mess with them. No one leaves him with the cubs unsupervised. Jackson turns into a big pile of mush when he’s with them. Danny is like 'why does Miguel have all these puppies?’ Stiles explanation of 'Miguel! He does…that thing. In college. Where you study animal…behaviour. For his… dissertation. On wolves. I mean dogs.’ doesn’t really make sense.

Derek hates his life sometimes. 

He doesn’t even know how this happened. One moment he was picking up pamphlets on wolf behavior at the closest wildlife preserve (if Scott and Jackson won’t listen to Derek—or Stiles—then he’s going make this as embarrassing as possible for them), and the next minute he’s discussing wolves with one of the caretakers. And then suddenly he’s got five wolf pups in his back seat as he’s driving home. (On towels, of course, because balls of fluff or no, nothing is allowed to ruin his seats.) 

Aren’t there wild animal laws or adoption wait periods that make this illegal? But Derek’s teenage pack must be influencing him too much, because he doesn’t even try to take them back. 

>>> 

Scott comes over, which means Stiles comes over, despite the numerous times Derek has tried to…dissuade him. (Derek had tried the whole, you’re not pack thing, even though it’s not really true, but Stiles had chosen that moment to become the most insightful person ever, practically glowing as he exclaimed, “Oh my god, I totally am! You lying, lying sour wolf!”) The pups are blockaded in the kitchen, which makes Derek very grateful that he’s rebuilt the house because that means he actually has a linoleum floor in his kitchen, which is much easier to clean piss off of than rotting boards. 

The moment Stiles catches sight of the pups, though, it’s like he’s been given the answer to life or something. Derek thought he’d seen how hyperactive the kid could get before, but Jesus. 

“Ohmygodpuppies!” Stiles says, and then he leaps over the baby-gate and into the kitchen.

Leaps over it, like he’s a deer or something. Derek didn’t even know that Stiles was capable of not being clumsy, much less being graceful.

It sets Derek on edge, because it took even Derek some time before the pups warmed up to him, and Derek’s afraid that they’ll take one look at Stiles and see squeak toy. 

Except, when Derek steps into the kitchen and finds Stiles on the floor, they’re not chewing on him. They’re licking him and squirming happily and rolling around on Stiles like Stiles is the best patch of dirt ever. 

What the hell is going on? 

“Making friends, Stiles?” Scott says from where he’s poked his head into the kitchen. He’s acting like this isn’t the most abnormal thing he’s ever seen. 

 Stiles just makes a happy noise, and the pups yap excitedly, licking at his jaw and tugging at his shirt. 

The ‘what the fuckery’ must be obvious on Derek’s face, because Scott says, “Stiles is really good with animals, especially when they’re young. When we get really shy or scared puppies at work, Doc asks Stiles to babysit them for a few days so that it’ll be easier to find homes for them.” 

Okay. It’ll take some work to fit in this new ‘Animal Whisperer’ Stiles with the Stiles that Derek currently knows, but he can do it. Maybe. 

 But the babysitting thing, well, that’s promising.

It turns out that, while the entire pack would like to watch over the pups, Stiles is the only person that Derek actually trusts to do so. Scott is complete mess; every time that he’s left alone with them for more than five minutes, something gets broken and, more often than not, Scott gets peed on (how Scott is able to work in an animal clinic, Derek doesn’t understand). Jackson fares better with them, but he’s also the biggest pushover in the world and everything they do is completely adorable, even if it’s chewing up Derek’s new kitchen cabinets. 

And sure, Stiles may be a pushover with them, but he doesn’t let them chew on anything except their toys. 

Stiles probably spends more time with the pups than Scott and Jackson combined; every day after lacrosse practice, Stiles is there, even if Derek doesn’t want him to be. Stiles also, much to Derek’s annoyance, names them. It happens without Derek knowing, and by the time Derek finds out the pups already answer to the names. 

“Who said you could name them?” Derek says, and tries to glare Stiles down. 

“Stop pouting, I take care of them just as much as you do,” Stiles says, and initiates tug-of-war with the runt of the group. 

Derek would argue, but Stiles is right. Except about the pouting part. Derek does not pout. 

The runt is Stiles’ favorite, a little grey pup with charcoal streaking back from his face and onto the top half of his body. He named him Timber, and the largest puppy, a grey with tan tints who picks on Timber, ended up with the name Brutus. (“It’s not funny,” Derek says when Stiles keeps trying to insist it is.) He named the two light greys Artemis and Apollo, because the only real distinction between them is their sex and their eyes. All of the pups’ eyes have changed golden except Artemis’, and though she’s still young enough that it might happen, Derek has a feeling that her eyes will stay blue. The last pup, a quiet thing whose coat is black, gets named Fell. 

“C’mon, these are the most badass names ever,” Stiles says. 

“There is something wrong with you,” Derek says, but after Stiles leaves Derek calls the pups by the names Stiles has given them. 

>>> 

This is why Stiles gets to look after the pups: he will corral them in the back of his jeep and watch them at his house. When Derek wants to have a training session in or around his house, Stiles takes the pups because they’re too young to follow the pack when they hunt, and usually the sessions inside the house freak them out. 

Jackson makes a joke about marital separation and custody, and the glare Derek sends the Beta has him in his car before the front door finishes shutting. 

Stiles even watches them when he has lab homework with Danny, which meant that Derek had to buy Danny two pairs of shoelaces before the kid got smart and started leaving his shoes outside of Stiles’ room. 

(“Why are there puppies?” Danny had asked the first time. 

“Uhh,” Derek heard Stiles say from Derek’s perch on the roof, “they’re De-Miguel’s. He’s, uh, he’s doing a study for college. Dissertation! He’s doing his dissertation on early…early behavior development.”) 

It means that, because Derek is not the kind of asshole to need Stiles to watch the pups at last minute, pack meetings and training session have become regular, instead of the haphazard sessions that Derek pulled together whenever he felt the Betas needed to be shown that no, they aren’t in complete control of themselves. Now sessions happen at the same times and same days each week, and pack meetings are set a week in advanced. The structure seems to work even better than Derek’s approach before, especially with Stiles badgering out of Derek what Derek thought the Betas needed the most work with, and then coming back a day later with a monthly schedule that organized each session in color codes for different activities. It scares Derek, because he didn’t even know that Stiles had organizational skills like this. 

Somehow, having a pack of wolf pups has made Derek’s life easier.

Alison comes over with a camera one sunny day, wanting to take pictures of the pups. Derek doesn’t mind, as Stiles is watching over them in the yard and he’s mostly in the kitchen hacking up frozen venison. 

Two days later, there’s a stack of photos on his porch and one framed photo of a shade-dappled Stiles, walking the tree-line with all five pups trailing behind him like goddamn goslings. Derek rolls his eyes, but he puts the picture up on the mantle anyway. 

>>> 

There’s a horrible thunderstorm, which would be okay, except that there’s also golf-ball-sized hail. 

The pups are all in Derek’s bed, and while they’re not big, at just over three months they’re also not small anymore. All five of them have finally been housetrained (Brutus was a stubborn, stubborn pup about that, and Derek understands why Stiles has nicknamed him “Brute”), so they’re allowed the run of the house as long as someone (Derek or Stiles) is in the house with them. And even though the pups have been through thunderstorms (Artemis and Apollo like to watch lightning at the window), the sound of hail snapping branches is like a gunshot. 

With five pups trying to suffocate him and thunder and hail trying to kill the entirety of Beacon Hills, Derek’s lucky he hears Stiles’ jeep pull up. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Derek says after a moment. 

He manages to wriggle out of the bed, and when he leaves the pups don’t follow him downstairs. Stiles is already putting his slicker in the kitchen sink, and Derek can smell the bruises forming on his shoulders from getting hit with ice chunks.  

“What the hell are you doing here?” Derek says, and Stiles jumps. 

“Are the pups okay? Were they inside when the story started? They’re terrified, aren’t they?” Stiles says, mouth and hands flailing a mile a minute. 

It creeps Derek out sometimes, that Stiles seems to know when the pups are in trouble or are scared (this is in no way the first time that he’s done this; the last time Timber got his paw caught under a log and Stiles drove from school, in the middle of the day, to hover over him). 

“They’re fine,” Derek says. “Where are they?” It’s rare when Stiles can be deterred, unless Derek distracts him with something shiny or tootsie rolls. 

“In bed, where I should be,” Derek says, then, “goddamnit,” when Stiles goes sprinting up the stairs. Derek sighs, scrubs his hands over his face, and follows the kid. When he makes it to his room, Stiles’ shoes are in the middle of the floor and he’s curled up on the bed with the pups trying to burrow into him. 

“Get off my bed,” Derek says, and then he has six pairs of eyes glaring at him and judging his entire existence. 

“They’re scared,” Stiles says, as if Derek is the one who has terrified them. 

It’s then that Derek realizes that, somehow, Stiles has become the den mother. Oh no. No. This has not happened. Derek is not essentially stuck in what Jackson somewhat accurately described as a marital separation with Stiles. 

“Fuck,” Derek says. It’s late and this is giving Derek a headache. 

“What? What happened? What’s wrong?” Stiles says. Derek just shakes his head and climbs on the bed. 

“You had better stay on your side of the bed, and you better stay quiet,” Derek says as he finds a comfortable position. 

“You, I—oh,” Stiles says, as Derek resolutely keeps his eyes closed, “yeah, I. Yeah, okay.” 

>>> 

Stiles does not keep quiet, as the kid (unsurprisingly) mumbles in his sleep, and no one keeps to their side of the bed. Derek wakes up in the morning to sunlight and a tangle of pups and Stiles, all wrapped around him. He tries to wake Stiles, or even get the boy off of his chest, but Stiles sleeps like he’s a hibernating bear. 

Derek sighs, and glares back when Artemis glares, one-eyed, at him for jostling her; then she falls asleep again between one breath and the next. Derek decides this isn't the worst thing in the world to wake up to, and follows her into sleep.