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lunarbuck · 1 year

Text

In Our Element (College!Stucky x f!reader)

pairing: college!stucky x f!reader (any race)

wc: 3.4k

summary: A camping trip with your friends leads to more than you bargained for

warnings: friends to lovers, oral (f and m receiving), smut (p in v, p in a), threesome, polyamory, MMF relationship

a/n: thank you @flordeamatista for hyping this fic up and for daydreaming with me <3 i hope you guys enjoy!!

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You practically moan as you toss your backpack to the ground at the top of the bluff. Bucky laughs, following your lead. The camping trip was Steve’s idea, so of course, he didn’t have any trouble with the hike up the bluff or with the heavy backpack. He practically skipped the whole way here.

He gives you a bright smile as he unclips the tent from the bottom of his pack. “You two gonna help me or am I on my own here?” He asks, spreading out the tarp. Bucky rolls his eyes but helps out his friend.

In an effort to be somewhat helpful, you decide to start gathering wood for the fire. Even though your legs feel noodly and it’s way hotter than you thought it would be, you’re still happy to be here. The three of you will start your 4th and final year of college in just a few weeks; it feels surreal.

You’ve known Steve and Bucky since freshman year and it’s crazy to think that at the end of this school year, the three of you won’t necessarily be in the same place anymore. Both the boys will probably get shipped out after graduation and you haven’t quite decided what’s next for you.

It’s not very easy to force yourself to stop thinking about it, but when you haul back your arm full of firewood and see Bucky and Steve bickering about the tent, it all seems to fade away. You dump the wood and dig out a fire pit, trying to remember your firemaking skills from girl scouts.

It takes you a few tries and way more matches than Troupe Leader Nicols would have approved of, but eventually, you have a fire. The boys manage to get the tent up without killing each other, and this place is starting to come together.

“Look at you go, angel.” Bucky starts pulling the food out of his pack, laying it out so he can start cooking. Even though you’ve known him for three years, you haven’t quite gotten used to how tall Bucky is. Steve too, honestly. They’re both built like goddamned brick walls and even when Bucky is sitting beside you, he isn’t even eye level.

Now you won’t beat around the bush. Bucky is incredibly easy on the eyes. Especially with the firelight flickering in his deep blue eyes. His brown hair is swept up off his forehead in a carelessly sexy way that makes you want to scream, but you keep it contained. It’s never been like that between the two of you. He’s always kept his conquests out of your friendship, opting to give you bare-bone details about his casual hookups.

It’s the same with Steve. You watch him as he walks toward the fire, a soft smile on his lips. He’s beautiful, you’ve thought so since the moment you laid eyes on him. He’s always watching out for you, making sure you’re doing okay, checking in. He makes butterflies burst in your heart every time he comes around.

“Thanks for doing this,” Steve says, sitting beside you. Bucky arranges the little tin foil packets on the hot stones, a pleasant smile on his face. “I’m happy the three of us could finally get out here. We’ve been wanting to show you this place for a while.”

Your heart warms at his words. Steve and Bucky are your best friends, they’ve been there for you through all the ups and down college has thrown at you. You’re not sure you would’ve survived without them. Part of you feels guilty for developing feelings for them, for the fact that you want more when they’ve already given you everything.

“I’m glad you invited me,” you reply, nudging Steve with your shoulder. “This is perfect.” The glow from the fire softens his usual sharp, classically charming features, and you feel yourself melt at the sight of them. Behind him, the sun is setting, painting the sky with bright oranges and pinks, and everything feels so… right.

Once the food is warmed up, Bucky passes everything out and you all dig in. Conversation flows easily between the three of you, reminiscing and laughing about the past, and before you know it, the stars are shining in the sky.

“It’s so clear up here,” Bucky mumbles, tilting his chin to stare at the constellations. “Can never see this many stars in the city.” You follow his line of sight and find his eyes tracing the outline of Hercules.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many,” you whisper. “It’s beautiful.” Bucky turns, grinning down at you. Suddenly, it feels like there’s no air. The way he’s looking at you sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re beautiful, angel.” Your lips part on a gasp, mind spinning.

“Bucky.” You can barely hear your voice when you speak. He just smirks and flicks his eyes behind you to where Steve is watching silently. You quickly turn to him, heat flooding your body.

“S’mores?” He asks, not appearing fazed by the moment between you and Bucky. You watch him arrange the s’mores materials and hand out sticks to roast marshmallows as if nothing happened.

“Steve, I–” He just smiles and shakes his head a little as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. You shake it off, taking the stick from Steve and roasting a marshmallow. You stare at the flames, feeling off-kilter from the heated moment with Bucky. You don’t want to hurt Steve, you care so much about him. You couldn’t ever pick between the two of them, your feelings equally strong for both men. You don’t want him to feel like you’ve chosen Bucky over him.

Before your marshmallow has a chance to light on fire, you pull it away from the flames and make your s’more. The chocolate melts in your mouth and you grin; s’mores could probably solve all your problems.

You feel fingers turning your chin and suddenly you’re back face-to-face with Bucky. “You’ve got a little somethin’ here, angel,” he whispers. His thumb gently rubs against the corner of your mouth as he slowly leans toward you. When he’s just inches away, his lips tip up into his signature smirk, before closing the distance and pressing a kiss to your lips. He’s kissing you softly, but there’s so much passion in it. Bucky’s hand cups your face while his metal fingers rest on your waist, holding you steady.

You lean into his kiss, head buzzing. You’ve wanted this for years, since the first time you met him, and now it’s happening. But you can’t forget that Steve is beside you, watching. Watching his best friend kiss you right in front of him. That’s what makes you pull away.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” Bucky says, thumb tracing over your lips.

“Language.” Steve’s scolding tone is also a teasing one, and you turn to find him watching you and Bucky with hooded eyes. He reaches out, placing a hand on your leg. His palm is warm against your skin but you still shiver at that contact.

“Stevie,” you whisper. He nods, shifting closer until he can lean his forehead against yours.

“You’re beautiful, angel.” When he kisses you, he tastes sweet like the s’more and smells smokey from the fire. His hand rests on your hip opposite from where Bucky’s is, and the feeling of both of them touching you at the same time sends you spinning. Never, in any of the scenarios you’d thought up did they both want you, let alone at the same time. Sure, you’ve fantasized about it, dreamed about it, but you didn’t think it’d ever happen.

Bucky’s hands find your shoulders, grazing your neck. You feel him lean down and press his lips to the sensitive spot beneath your jaw and you groan into Steve’s kiss. Heat builds between the three of you, a sense of urgency you’ve never felt before.

“You’re perfect,” Bucky says into your skin, sucking gentle marks in places that make you see stars. “Our perfect little angel.” Steve pulls away, placing a gentle kiss on your nose, and you look between the two men, stunned.

“I never thought…” your voice fades as you lose yourself in both of them.

“Never thought what?” Steve prompts, trailing across your face.

“Never thought that you two would feel this way for me.” Bucky chuckles, still pouring his attention into your neck.

“We’ve never met a girl like you, angel,” Bucky tells you, and you truly believe it. “You’ve been ours since you met us, we’ve just been waiting for you to realize it.” Your heart slams in your chest so hard you swear it’s going to burst right out.

“How do you feel?” Steve asks, holding your face in his big, warm hands. “Is this okay?” You nod quickly, earning you a laugh from both men.

“I feel like I’m floating,” you reply. Four hands move over your body, feeling every inch of you. Two sets of lips kiss you, taste you, and unravel you. Bucky adjusts you so you’re able to lean back against him and Steve moves with you, not letting you go for even a moment. Sandwiched between the two mountain-like men, you’ve never felt safer, never felt better.

When they pull away, both men help you stand. You have to crane your neck to keep eye contact, but it’s worth it to see them both smiling happily at you.

“Angel,” Bucky says, turning your head with two fingers. You love that nickname. You don’t remember where it came from, you used to roll your eyes at it, but you’ve always loved it. Especially when Bucky says it like that. “We can stop if you want to, we don’t want you to feel pressure to do anything you don’t want to. Okay?”

“What if I want it all?” You ask, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Then we’ll give it to you,” Steve answers. He guides you toward him, hooking his fingers in the hem of your shirt before tugging it off you. You shiver in the night air, but Bucky is quick to warm you up, his lips finding your shoulder.

Steve works your shorts off next, helping you step out of them. In just your panties and bra, you should feel exposed, but you don’t. Steve and Bucky make you feel beautiful, they make you feel strong. Steve admires you for a moment, bright blue eyes trailing over your body appreciatively. Then, he turns you to face Bucky.

“I’ve been waiting so long for this, angel,” he whispers, leaning in and kissing you. His metal fingers are cold against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Behind you, Steve steps in close, tracing his fingers along your back. The shapes he draws are followed by his lips. It takes you a moment, but you realize he’s drawing the constellations on your back, kissing the stars into your skin.

Both of the men kneel and Steve unclasps your bra. Bucky instantly wraps his lips around one of your nipples, taking your other breast into his hand. Steve watches from over your shoulder, breathing heavily as he takes in the sight of Bucky worshiping you. His hands trace down your torso, finding the waistband of your panties and dragging them down your legs. You gasp, one hand burying itself in Bucky’s hair, the other reaching back to hold onto Steve.

Steve’s fingers slide up your legs before his right hand reaches the crux of your thighs. His other hand anchors in Bucky’s hair, tugging it lightly. You’re desperate for him; for them, and you know he can feel it. His fingers slide against you, knocking your clit with each pass. “You’re so wet,” he tells you, sliding a finger inside of you. “So wet for us, angel.”

Bucky groans against your nipple before pulling away to watch Steve finger you. “Fuck, Steve,” he grumbles, resing his forehead against your sternum. “I know, language.” Steve chuckles by your ear, adding a second finger. He picks up his pace, hitting a spot inside of you that makes your head go fuzzy. Your knees wobble, and Bucky holds them, not letting you fall.

“Why don’t we take this to the tent, Buck,” Steve suggests. The other man nods, and a second later, he scoops you into his arms. Steve helps the two of you settle the tent after putting out the fire, and once you’re laying down between the two of them, they’re back on you.

Bucky slides down between your legs, tongue running over your pussy like he’s starving, while Steve’s tongue laves your breasts. Bucky works you back to the point Steve had gotten you to, the band in your belly ready to snap. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him to where you want him, and as he works tight circles over your clit, you come apart, shaking in his and Steve’s arms.

“So perfect, angel, so perfect,” Bucky whispers against your clit. “Gimme another one, come on.” He slides two fingers inside of you, stretching you while he tastes you. You’re sensitive since you just came, but Bucky is quick to soothe any ache you feel. Steve sucks marks across your breasts and neck, ones that you’re so happy to wear, and you come again just thinking about it.

“Please, please,” you moan, gently guiding Bucky’s face away from your pussy.

“Tell us what you want,” Steve tells you, kissing your cheek. You glance between him and Bucky, who is still resting between your thighs, and feel a renewed heat in your belly.

“I want both of you.” Bucky raises an eyebrow, urging you to continue. “I want both of you at the same time.” Steve and Bucky exchange a glance, and for a moment, you worry you’ve suggested the wrong thing. “Or, or not, I’m sorry I didn’t mean–”

“Angel,” Bucky says, nipping at your inner thigh. “That was the perfect suggestion.”

“Really?” You look at Steve for confirmation, unable to wipe the grin from your face.

“Really,” he replies. “We’ve been wanting that since we both realized we had feelings for you. We talk about it all the time, what we’d do to you, what you’d sound like.” Your mind floods with downright pornographic images of those conversations until Steve and Bucky pull you back to the real world.

“If you’re gonna take us we’re gonna have to get you ready,” Bucky says, shifting onto his knees. He slides his hands over your legs, but his eyes are on Steve. “You just gonna stare, Stevie? Or are you gonna do something?” Steve does his best to maneuver over to Bucky, and when he’s between your legs too, he strips Bucky out of his shirt and works his pants down too. Bucky strips Steve next, and before you know it, they’re both naked. You can’t take your eyes off of them, off of their perfectly sculpted bodies.

Bucky tugs Steve into a bruising kiss, both men melting into each other. They fit perfectly together, feeding off one another in a way you’ve never seen before. It’s beautiful. When they pull apart, they’re both panting. They turn to you next, lust filling their eyes.

Steve sinks lower and Bucky slides two fingers inside of you. Bucky moans as Steve takes his dick into his mouth. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can watch. You’ve never had voyeuristic tendencies before, but these men bring out a new side of you.

Bucky smirks, one hand working you, the other hand cupping Steve’s head. He looks completely in his element. Bucky’s fingers scissor inside of you, stretching you out, but seeing how big he and Steve are, you aren’t sure any amount of preparation will be enough.

When Bucky decides you’re ready, he moves, pulling Steve off of him. Steve’s face is flushed, but he grins as he positions himself between your legs. He lines himself up with your pussy and notches the head of his dick at your entrance. You press your lips to his, moaning into the kiss as he presses inside of you. He’s stretching you more than Bucky’s fingers, but it feels so incredible.

“Oh my god, angel,” he moans, wrapping his arms around you. ”You’re so tight, squeezing me so good.” Bucky lays down beside you, hand sliding down to where Steve is fucking you. He circles your clit slowly in contrast to the pace Steve is setting.

“Doesn’t he feel good?” Bucky whispers into your ear, sliding his fingers lower, slipping one inside of you with Steve’s dick. You jolt at the feeling, but Steve kisses you sweetly, nipping at your lower lip. “His cock is perfect, isn’t it, angel? Hitting all the right spots, huh?”

“Shit, yes,” you moan, your head lolling back as Steve fucks you. “It feels so good.” Steve and Bucky seem to be communicating telepathically, because they keep moving in sync. Steve will shift, Bucky will move with him. They play your body like a fiddle, like they know you better than you know yourself.

Eventually, they manage to get Steve below you with you on top, riding him. He’s even deeper this way, hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t know existed. Bucky sits behind you, sliding his hands all over you, kissing you everywhere.

“You ready for the next step?” Bucky asks, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Yes, yes, please,” you whimper. You’ve been on edge for a while, everytime you get close to coming Steve slows down, not letting you finish. Bucky rustles through a bag and you hear a click before you feel one of his fingers, slick and warm, pass over your ass. You shiver at the feeling but keep grinding against Steve.

Bucky works his finger inside of you, and even just the feeling of his finger in your ass coupled with Steve’s dick makes the band in your belly snap. You come on a groan, leaning back against Bucky’s chest. Once you’re relaxed, he adds a second finger. You feel like you’re going to explode. Bucky keeps working you, keeps stretching you, all the while whispering in your ear.

“So perfect for us, angel, so good. You squeezin’ my fingers so tight, squeezing Stevie so good.” After he feels you’re ready, you feel him pull away. Next, his lubed cock presses against your ass and you stifle a groan. Bucky runs his hands over you soothingly before he presses inside of you.

Steve moans loudly from below you, gripping your hips tightly. “Oh my god, Bucky, she’s so much tighter now.” You whimper as they start to move in tandem, stretching you to your limit.

“Come on, Stevie, show her how much you want her,” Bucky goads as he tweaks your nipples. Steve bucks below you, fucking into you faster. Your eyes roll back, your head falls onto Bucky’s shoulder, and all you can do is take it. Bucky presses in deeper, fucking you at an agonizing pace.

“God, angel, you feel so good. You’re perfect, so beautiful.” He whimpers the words, and you can tell he’s getting close. You run your hands along his chest, scraping him lightly with your nails, and he comes on a loud moan. Bucky keeps thrusting into you, making a sensitive Steve whine, but he comes soon after, filling you.

The three of you lay in an exhausted, sexed-out heap, breathing heavily. You’re blissed out between the two of them, loving how even though they’re about to pass out, they’re still caressing you; still holding you.

“I should go get something to clean us up,” Steve says, moving to sit up, but you grab him and pull him back down, tugging him into your chest.

“Not yet,” you whisper. Bucky joins your cuddle heap despite the heat coming off everyone’s bodies. “Just stay here with me.”

When setting up the tent, Bucky and Steve had opted to keep the rain fly off since it’s not supposed to rain, so you can see the stars through the mesh top of the tent. After a few moments of sated silence, you speak again. “Is this real?”

“Of course it’s real, angel,” Bucky replies, squeezing one of your hands. “Our feelings for you are real. This is real.”

“Your feelings for us are real, right?” Steve asks, lacing his fingers with your other hand.

“Of course.”

“Then it’s real,” Steve says. “We care about you so much, angel, and we want this to work out. Real.”

Eventually, you let Steve get you cleaned up. The three of you fall asleep in a tangled mess, but you couldn’t be happier. Tonight was perfect, this trip, these men, everything. Absolutely perfect.

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1K notes · View notes

izzysarchivedblogs · 9 months

Note

There were SEVERAL new notes that were scattered around Clint's home, all left by a CERTAIN spider boyfriend. The note system was his favorite, and he refused to ever stop doing it. The notes are as followed: The first note had been left right on the front door.

'Hawkbae <3 I might not be home tonight :( : ( Something came up, it might take all night. Nothing to worry about though! - Pete ❤' The second immediately next to the first.

' By the way I found your phone in the bronx? I put it on charge for you in the roooom. - Petey ❤ '

The third was next one was on the arm of the couch, next to an extra pair of pajama pants and Peter's warm and cozy hoodie next to it.

' If you watch star trek without me, I will know.. and I will pout! But I found a new show you might like! I put it in your watchlist on amazon! - ur captain ❤ '

The fourth was on the fridge.

'Oh mighty landlord~ I fixed that one broken dishwasher in 1A Also managed to get around to fixing some of the electrical in the main lobby, and I fixed 2B's dishwasher! OH! and the one busted mailbox that was making the weird noise! - ur humble assistant ❤ The fifth note was waiting in the fridge on top of a fresh gallon of chocolate milk as well as a few baked goods. (not a single clue on the fourth that the fifth even existed inside.)

' prettttty bird ❤❤ I saw you were running low on milk so i got you some more, and i picked up a few other snacks. The pie is all yours, freshly made by YOURS TRULY, also I made the building some cookies and I made you extras! - ur friendly little baker ❤❤❤'

The sixth note could be found could be found new the takeout menus. (Peter liked to think he knew his boyfriend's routines rather well.)

'hey hungry bird ❤ I already called ahead your usual place they should be bringing your food by soon. (And if you are late they should have left you a note to call them and they would swing by why yes i am a PREPARED SPIDEY!) - a prepared boi ❤' The last note could be found in the bedroom right next to Clint's alarm clock and a little wrapped present. Inside the box was a little black bracelet. It was a special kind that was especially made for long distance couples (Yes he knows they aren't long distance but away missions are sometimes a bitch and they are needy asses)

'Hey love, I know it's a little silly, but I saw these.. and you know with our jobs I thought maybe? I'm already wearing mine. I love you - Forever yours, Peter ❤'

THE REALITY OF THEIR LINE OF WORK ⸺ LIFESTYLE ⸺ WAS THE INEVITABLE PASSING SHIPS WEEKS.

It was bound to happen, their first few months of this relationship had been stable; several months actually. Long enough time, although with the nature of their lives and who they were? It had seemed they had both FALLEN FAST.

That was kind of HARD NOT TO DO. The guy had quips and thwips, could keep up with Clint's talk (out talk him any day), was as dramatic as Clint was (an impossible task). He's been in this as long as Clint as too, so he's known and he still goes about all of this trying to maintain two identities. Something that Clint had always wondered if he should have done, been precious about, but than he sees how it affects Peter and he's maybe glad that he never had been.

Peter's smart and kind, the typical stuff that everyone always says in romance movies. By far no where perfect, and the fact they were both risk takers (and had been at odds once or twice before about work was proof of it). HE'S LEARNING CLINT, KNOWING HIM. One of the few who will know Clint; all the detail he wants and gets out of him. There's a whole twenty something years of his life, before the Avengers, before anyone knew him. PETER GETS ALL OF THEM IF HE WANTS.

In a lot of ways, Clint knows that they were similar. Reflections upon each other; although he would argue that Parker Luck is a lot better than Barton Luck. NOT SOMETHING THAT HE'D SAY. That would actually end up being an argument, or not something that would go over well. He'd take Parker Luck any day over Barton Luck. HOPES that their relationship is running on Parker Luck than his own. STILL HE KNOWS THEY WORE THE SAME HATS SOMETIMES.

They had each other's keys, lived half here and half there. Something about the heart living where the other was at. There had been the few funny times, when they couldn't coordinate with each other to save their lives. Peter ending up at Clint's, while he's at Peter's. HOME MADE IN TWO PARTS. They laughed at those times, calling each other over the phone and razzing the other for being at the other's place. DEBATING WHOSE COMING TO WHO.

The past two weeks, they have felt more like passing ships. It was inevitable, with seeing each other for less hours in a day or not even the whole day. The city being slammed with attacks, with supervillain schemes and plots that the Thunderbolts were called in on, that would bleed over into days long worries. DEMANDING ALL OF CLINT'S ATTENTION AND HIS LEADERSHIP. He slept at the fucking office last night, after a very late drop in at a meeting because it's been that kind of the week. Had to call Peter from the office, just to chat with him and tell him that he was missing him again tonight. Clint rarely stayed at the office if he could help it, but the team was tired or had more on their plates, so he had sent them home and stayed back and did all the reports, sat through the debriefing with Helen and than with the Mayor Luke Cage. PRESS AND ALL KINDS OF SHIT.

On top of that, Clint has been doing some UNDERGROUND work that he absolutely had to be careful with doing, like the Captain America network that he helped when Steve called in on him. Any work like that, whether it was simply exchanging information and offering tips or actually suiting up and bringing weapons, if any of that came up while he was working for the mayor's office and Thunderbolts? That would be trouble for him. Clint's not leaving people hanging though, not arresting other superheroes, and he's helping his fellows. IF HIS DAY OF RECKONING COMES? SO BE IT.

He's down, there's a slump to his shoulders as the end of the day comes. Clint hasn't had his phone in over three days, which he has no idea where he lost it. Probably T-Bolts patrol or an emergency call. Depression has been creeping in, something of which Peter and his therapist has noted, to which Johanna had asked him how he was going to practice healthy coping and manage it. HE KNOWS THE ANSWER SHE WANTS.

Getting to his front door, which he had come to second (Peter's place had been empty). He'll worry about his phone later. YET ⸻ SQUEEZE HIS HEART AND LUNGS. There's a note on the door.

FIRST ⸻ This sticky note, green in color, starts with HAWKBAE. Occasionally, as a joke not joke, he wonders if he should change his hero name to that. If only, because the nickname amuses him so much. A SIGH HEAVES AS HE READS. Clint hates to think that, of course, with how his week has been going. Barton Luck would double down, and he's not seeing a certain man tonight. It's okay, but he does wonder (nothing to worry about though!) about where and when Peter has even gone off. If it's Spider-Society stuff, which is the one he worries, because he knows about the whole multiverse, getting displaced or trapped in another universe. EARTH-666 WAS A MONSTER HELLSCAPE. It's the reason he has a joke grudge against Brian Braddock and the country of the British. No longer can a Smiths song be enjoyed. He will in fact, worry a little about Peter, and hope that he comes home in one piece and no bruised ego either. He'll spoil him, absolutely when he got here; or he'd go over there.

SECOND ⸻ The next sticky note is a different color, orange, and shorter than the first. Signed with Petey and a heart; he is his GODDAMN HEART. Oh, so it had been a T-bolts patrol that Clint had lost his phone. What had gone on that day he was walking the street of the Bronx like a beat cop? It doesn't matter, he has his phone back and possibly a lot of texts, emails, and missed call to catch up on. A call to Peter later, NEEDED. Honestly, was there a word for more than needed?

The two notes are plucked off of the door, than he's fumbling with his keys until the door unlocks. When he enters in the apartment, he doesn't quite know what to do with himself at first. How many days had it been since he was here? It's not that long again, but after spending the night in the HQ, it had felt longer. No boyfriend here. DAMN. The duffel bag he is carrying, gets half tossed to the side of the couch as he decides he had just needs to sink into the couch for a few minutes. HE JUST NEEDED THAT. Tv remote acquired in hand, flicking through what he was going to watch, until. . .

THIRD ⸻ a pink note is noticed. He picks it up, reads it and there's that twitterpated feeling that he gets about Captain Dork of the Spiderprise. While readding the note, his eyes draw over to notice the pajama pants and a hoodie. One that Peter tended to throw on when he was walking Lucky, of whom he imagines is at Kate's since Clint has been too all the place the past two weeks. I WILL KNOW... AND I WILL POUT. His face was cute when he pouted, but Clint's hart could not handle a pouty Peter. TWITTERPATED FOR HIM.

He had still been in his thunderbolts uniform, so he turns on the amazon app to see what Peter had put on his watchlist. Clint stands with a groan, to get up and shuck off his uniform. It's kind of dropped dropped to the side of the couch. He can worry about that later when his battery is charged up. HAPPIER ALREADY WHEN HE'S IN PETER'S HOODIE. It smells like him, wonders if it's so weird that he hugs himself and smells into the hood. Clint's on the couch, paying as much attention that he can spare for tv show until his stomach gets rumbly.

FOURTH ⸻ There's another note, blue, on fridge, that's new amongst the other notes he keeps up. OH MIGHTY LANDLORD, has he smiling. A half laugh, which ends in a full laugh a his eyes scan the note. HUMBLE ASSISTANT. Was he going to call Peter his humble assistant next time they get frisky, a little roleplay to add the spice? Absolutely, that was happening. GET HOME TOMORROW, PETER. He's glad that Peter's been able to check in with the tenants while the five boroughs of New York have been slammed with calls for the Thunderbolts appearance. He knows everyone loves Peter. HE DOES TOO.

The fact there was a note on the fridge, should have alerted Clint that another note was coming. Why wouldn't there be a note in the fridge? He was pretty sure he's eaten a sticky-note left by Peter before, because he put it in the fridge and Clint wasn't paying attention.

FIFTH ⸻ Yellow note. PRETTY BIRD. Stop flirting with me in notes, Peter, and COME HOME TO DO IT IN PERSON. Clint was going to blame Mayday for the reason he was low on milk this time. HE HOPES HE SEES HIS BUG SOON TOO. Watching all her favorite cartoons, naptime, the games they play, and then teaching her how to be the coolest Honorary Hawkeye (sorry Peter and Spiderman). Clint goes for the milk, and a few snacks but he was definitely going to order something in as there's no way he's cooking with the exhaustion that seeps in his bones.

That leads to the next note that he will find. IT'S LIKE PETER IS FOLLOWING HIM AROUND. ❝ I swear, Parker, if you are Truman Show-ing me! ❞ He says out loud, with a laugh to himself as he goes to look through the takeout menu pile underneath the landline phone. It should maybe bother him how much Peter knew his routines, knew his mind. Perhaps, it's creepy, but instead he likes the feeling that he's watched over by Spiderman. HE JUST FEELS VERY LOVED.

SIXTH ⸻ Red. HUNGRY BIRD. They hadn't shown up and he hadn't noticed a note, which makes Clint wonder how many minutes he had missed Peter by. The usual place, usually needed an order head, because of the distance and traffic, preparation time. So he should be expecting the food in twenty minutes and HE'S OVERWHELMED. Laughing at the way that Peter signs off on this note. PREPARED. How that knucklehead ever has any self image issues (he knows how and why; clint sees peter's) when he's absolutely wonderful, loving, and a total dork. ADORABLE DORK. CAPTAIN DORK. ADORKABLE.

The food arrives, with Clint leaving them a big additional tip and he's eager to dig into whatever Peter has ordered for him. HE DIGS IN. Crashed out on the couch, with the tv on for two hours. A slice of pie (he can make pie, holy shit, he's going to be obsess over that fact) and some cookies were had. He never has to try to bake again with Peter being around. Clint does saves a little bit from everything from the takeout order, just for Peter. Puts it in the fridge, so that he had something to eat when he got back in from whatever was keeping him all night. Writes a note himself to stick on the front door before he locks the door.

ONE ⸺

Peter <3

leftover in fridge for you

romance is not dead

you = my whole heart

Clint <3

He knows what his therapist would say, but he also knows that he was tired. That he's done about as much self-care as possible, and half of that was a result of the six notes that he had in his pocket. CLINT GOES RIGHT TO HIS BED. That's when he notes the little wrapped box in Spiderman themed wrapping paper. DORK. HIS BOYFRIEND IS A DORK. Followed along with it comes the last note, that he's noticed.

SEVEN ⸻ Purple paper, his favorite color. HEY LOVE. He's so deep in love with him, they both were. It's been a long time that he's had a new love, and how Clint hopes so much that this last. No other shoe dropping, no luck running out, no time being up. HEY LOVE. Clint's unwrapping the box that Peter has called silly, which he'll be the judge of that. There's a black bracelet in it, which Clint normally does not wear much in terms of accessories. A watch here and there, hair ties on his wrist (not that he ever needed them for his hair; but for flinging at people and now, he used them for Mayday's wild hair when it was bothering her). He looks back at the note. I LOVE YOU, FOREVER YOURS, PETER. Clint loves him too, and he hopes that forever lasts.

He kisses this note, which may be silly, but there's no one around to judge. ALREADY WEARING MINE. He reads the little paper that comes with the bracelet, from the company about what this was and how it worked (he can tell that Peter had taken it out already; meaning there must have been some set up done). Clint puts it on, an immediately he's pushing at the sun on, which blinks a dim light. He presses a few times, hoping, waiting for it to reach Peter. WONDERS IF HE COULD FIGURE OUT WHAT THE VIBRATION RATE WAS. They could do morse code with these, if they work.

A few minutes place, it goes dark and he reaching over for his phone. He lays down, tucking himself in and dims the brightness on his phone immediately to go to his text messages to CAPTAIN DORK OF THE SPIDERPRISE, ignoring everything else.

Before he even gets the chance to text anything, the bracelet light up and vibrates ⸻ WARMTH SPREADS. The warmth spreads between the cold and hollow spaces between his bones. FLUTTERING. Butterflies flutter through his stomach, up through his chest cavity, than get caught in his throat. SWALLOWING. CONSUMING. ⸻ He has got to be too old to feel this amount of love, to be this giddy over a bracelet vibrating, and FILLED TO THE CUP with love. He pushes the button again, how obsessed and distracted were they going to be about this?

Clint opens back his phone to text Peter.

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> I love you

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> Stay safe

[ Captain Dork of the Spiderprise ] -> Call me as soon as you can

#crisispider #clint barton; crisispider #ic; clint barton #I AM WEEPS OVER THEM. i love them. SO MUCH. i went so ham on this.#ships; crisispider; familiarity is knowing every line and crack even in the dark (spiderhawk)#verse; clint barton; entangled to a loser like me (crisispider)

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eats-the-stars · 2 years

Text

love the guy assigned to my case at the “help you get a job” program. i have exactly 2 modes. 1) procrastinating until the absolute last minute. And 2) guess I will complete months worth of work that is also due at the end of the year in exactly 3 days of non-stop effort. You can basically flip a coin as to which approach my brain will decide to take for any given task.

so yeah I have a job now. and my poor case manager dude is like “wait. no. that was so fast. it’s been one week. you did how many interviews? and you picked...this one. the one that is not like anything you have done before and also was not on the “jobs I think would work out for me” list that we made?”

and he was scrambling like “accommodations. training. oh god. um. do i need to talk to your employers?” and getting more anxious when I was like “no i think I have it covered.” like i am sorry bro but i know that my vibes in person are like “quiet forgetful autistic person who can pass for either a high school student or a grandma at any moment” and this does not inspire confidence, but I am actually pretty independent once someone gives me a little push to start a thing.

also...dude you have my job history. winter sports area general worker (concessions, ticket sales, renting ski/snowshoe equipment, managing cross-country trails, monitoring the tube hill, etc.). family restaurant hostess (basically every role in the place except a cook). person selling fireworks out of tent for all of July while also living in a smaller tent behind the shipping crate filled with things that go boom. call center customer service rep handling 4 different clients that range from crafts and home decor to incontinence products and super expensive furniture. freelance dog-sitting with clients ranging from “rich couple who wants me to let their elderly cockapoos out twice a day for $50 bucks a pop in a house with a basement theater” to “i’ll give you $10 a day to exercise and feed the 3 huskies in our small apartment also they can jump higher than you are tall and scream louder than you thought possible.” bro we added a whole “volunteer experience” section to my resume because I wrote grants and worked with an environmental group to restore native bluebirds to the community and volunteered at the community table and the animal shelter and the library. like i have done lots of things that are not really connected at all. someone says “hey do you think you could do this?” and I am suddenly living out of a tent for a month googling “what the fuck is a crossette?” i once ended up in Memphis for 2 months doing volunteer construction work in the aftermath of a hurricane because my cousin didn’t want to go alone and everyone was like “oh we know someone who goes with the flow so hard.”

so you better believe i told you “oh i don’t know, maybe a receptionist position would be nice” and then applied to every local job known to god and then a few extra and took the first one to say “cool can you start next week?” i know i did not give off “I will try anything at least once if you ask me fast and then go ‘great!’ before I can process what i agreed to” vibes while sitting in your office in my colorful leggings, grandma sweaters and animal hats while not making eye contact and talking about how lovely my nephew is and how much I enjoy quiet time alone and gardening and i struggle with a poor memory and navigating social interactions. but i know you proofread my resume my guy. you asked questions about all these things except the construction thing because i actually forgot to mention that actually which is good because then i might have had to mention the cult involvement that i wasn’t aware of until i was stuck on-site but it all worked out so no sweat. still, i am glad that he is concerned by my “out of the blue” spontaneity. it’s kind of his job to help people settle into jobs that they can handle, and I also know that I would realistically need more assistance from him if I wasn’t so good at adapting on the fly due to my bad habit of saying “sure, I can do that” to literally anything. also my new job is honestly pretty tame, so i am not sure what he is freaking out about. i should really not mention some of the other jobs i spontaneously applied for before accepting this one. like..my friend...i could be working in a bridal shop. i could be training to install and repair vending machines or decorating cakes or delivering medical equipment. i applied for a job that was literally “window production.” none of these are actually as wild as that time I spent 2 months with a religious cult doing manual labor and living out of an abandoned, half-destroyed school building because my cousin talked me into it. i had to watch a dramatic reenactment of the crucifixion of Jesus on my very first night that brought the whole gymnasium of strangers to wild, howling tears while I was awkwardly clapping my hands as my cousin sobbed incoherently into my shoulder. i once dog-sat a bluetick coonhound for 2 weeks in the dead of winter, and the snow if his yard was so high that he was able to jump the fence and book it down the street. i had to chase him through knee-high snow for over an hour before he stopped to sniff a bemused old lady long enough for me to catch him. i once had a customer at the restaurant rail at me for a good twenty minutes because she was absolutely sure that we did serve pineapple upside down cake and i was just withholding this dessert from her, specifically. the bar for “jobs I would apply for” is so low that I actually thought “well as long as nobody spits in my face, pukes on me consistently, or shanks me in the kidney again I could probably do anything.” although to be fair to my case manager i did not mention those things to him (except the pineapple upside down cake lady because I mention her all the time, i am still pissed off about that situation). also, my sister was actually the one to have a dog wake her up in the middle of the night only to puke directly into her mouth, but I watched it go down, so the psychic trauma of witnessing that still exists.

#honestly i think my poor social skills get me into half of the situations in my life #because i agree to things before i process them because most people talk and talk too fast for me #so i spend the whole conversation trying to keep up also figure out what the hell we're talking about #and then at the end i turn to my sister and say 'so what was that about?'#and she says something like 'you signed up to sell fireworks out of a tent for all of july' and i just have to run with that #the other half of the situations just come from having relatives and family friends that actively seek out situations #but want to drag someone adaptable and chill along who will also not say 'that's literally insane. no' when asked #also i need less cousins who take the zombie apocalypse life tip of always bringing a slow runner with you to situations #like i am a small person ok. my legs are shorter. i can't help it that everyone else is sprinting around on their stilt-legs #also just like i like to take walks with my dad because the mosquitoes love his blood way better than mine #i have a history of 'first person to get stabbed in a situation' that is probably just due to being the weakest looking person in any group #and i don't really panic in emergencies. i don't really know why. maybe it's something to do with being autistic #but if someone is screaming in pain and writhing on the floor #or an alarm goes off #or a bus skids on the ice and smears a stranger across the sidewalk right in front of me #or if i get mugged in a coffee shop while i'm studying for exams #i don't really do the things that other people around me do in the same situation #i personally think that the bubble i exist in just runs slower than everyone else's #so they're all having their reactions and freaking out while i'm still like 'damn something sure is happening right now.#am i supposed to do anything about this?'#and then if the answer is: 'yeah you should probably calm down that guy on the floor. figure out why he's screaming. then call 911 maybe?'#then i'll just do that while other people are saying things like 'oh god what's happening?!'#like if i panicked every time i had a dog that i was responsible for make a stupid life decision in front of me #or had a cult member ask me. an atheist. if i felt like i connected with god at the emotional catharsis activity #or honestly even just every time i've ever been stabbed in the left kidney even tho that's only happened twice #then i don't know i would probably be doing a lot of panicking #maybe it's an energy thing. i feel like panicking requires more energy than i usually have access to

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visionofhope04 · 3 years

Note

Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai

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kimthwariru · 3 years

Text

Namjoon reaction—calling him a ‘friend’ when he clearly has a thing for you

❀genre: smut, a bit of fluff

❀collage au

(This was originally supposed to be a quick reaction but something happened to me and I couldn’t stop writing)

“Look, Jisoo, I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong” you flash a cheeky smile at your best friend. She’s being going on and on about how this Kim Namjoon guy had a thing for you.

You can’t lie, you’ve seen him around in campus and sometimes you’d wish he would suffocate you with these thighs of his. Ugh. The perfect combo, lean yet masculine physique with a brain that actually functions for a change. You’ve seen the way these collage girls were circling him around and you can’t blame them, the guy was a catch.

But he was not your crowd of people. He was outgoing, social and had loads of what you like to call “the lad friends”. You guessed his main activities were partying and getting shitfaced every night.

You’ve talked to him a couple of times. He uses the same bench as you to read now and then. You would eventually take sneak peeks at the books he was reading, check if he had any taste or not, and the result was always better than what you expected. This guy knew books. He was not just reading what was on the best seller’s that week to look sophisticated in front of others.

When he caught you peaking he’d started having small talk with you. You swear you’ve never experienced a better conversation flow with another human being. This guy screamed comfort. He seemed genuinely curious about the things you were saying. None of that painful act of pretending to be interested just because he wanted to get laid. You had been talking with him for a month straight and aside from a few moments of some what flirty looks his actions never suggested something more.

His aura was welcoming and he always paid attention to the little things. Unlike some other shallow guys out there, he felt…different.

But how different could he really be? You’ve seen the people he hangs out with. Kim Taehyung? He had a relationship with three girls at the same time. Didn’t even apologize for being the biggest jerk in history. You’ve heard Jung Hoseok’s body count was reaching a 3 digit number AND Jeon Jungkook once fucked 4 different girls at the same night.

Just thinking about it makes you sick. It pains you to admit but there’s only one truth to this. Even if Kim Namjoon was interesting, he was definitely a person you needed to stay away from. All the data point to a big fuckboy alert!

“Come on y/n…. If he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in you then why did he tell me explicitly that he wanted you to attend the party??”

“An invitation to a party doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his style. Have you seen the type of girls he hangs out with? Yikes.”

Jisoo smirked at you “Oh, I see you’re stalking him now?”

You shake your head “Don’t be ridiculous! We take Econ together, that’s all. What? Am I supposed to cover my eyes every time I see him?”

“Maybe you should” Jisoo came closer to you “Y/n, we’re going to that party”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is a big mistake, I’ll get bored within the hour” You scream at Jisoo over the loud music.

“Don’t be a whiney ass and enjoy yourself for once” she handed you a drink.

Enjoy yourself for once. You and Jisoo’s definition of enjoying one self were clearly very different. You scan the room to look for any familiar faces you could talk to. Unfortunately, not a lot of your acquaintances attended frat parties.

Your head motion immediately pauses when you meet eyes with Namjoon across the garden. Was he looking at you this whole time? You feel your cheeks burn.

Initially, you don’t know how to react but eventually you flash him a small smile and focus back on Jisoo

“Kim Namjoon just gave me the biggest stare of all time” you say as you down your drink

“What!?” Jisoo’s eyes widened “This is the time where I say I told you so.”

You think for a second that maybe Jisoo was right all along. But that just makes the whole thing more dangerous for you. You can’t lie, Namjoon is attractive, but you knew he was trouble. Maybe he liked you today and then liked another girl tomorrow.

Suddenly, you feel a hand touch your shoulder “Hey y/n, Jisoo. Glad you guys made it” Namjoon’s low voice pierced your ears.

Jisoo gave you a look before replying to him “Hey!! We couldn’t miss such a night!” She smiled “right y/n??”

“Yeah!! Totally” you cheer kind of awkwardly.

Namjoon’s eyes fixed on you. You felt his stare eat you up. His whole presence felt angelic yet overwhelming. “Do you guys maybe want to join us? We’re sitting right by the pool”

“Oh! Sure, why not!” Jisoo answered almost immediately

You were walking towards the pool, Namjoon was pacing right next to you, he was so close to the point where you could sort of smell his cologne. You swear you could get drunk off his scent.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually come” He chuckled

“Are you disappointed?” You teased and raised an eyebrow.

You see a dimple smile making its appearance, how can this dude be so incredibly hot and cute at the same time? “I think pleasantly surprised would be the right way to put it”

Why do you feel like you can not breath? He hasn’t said much, yet you feel yourself burn up all of a sudden. “Good to know” you smile back.

“Joon! You have to see this” was the first thing Taehyung yelled when you arrived to the place where the guys were sitting “12 o’clock, Hobi making out with Mina from 3rd year. Can you believe it? After two years of trying to get it, he finally succeeds”

Of course the main talk is girls. No surprise there.

“Jungkook bitch, you owe me 20 bucks” Taehyung eyed Jungkook

Your expression screamed disgust. Apparently, Namjoon noticed “They are not as bad as they seem” he elbowed you.

You give him and awkward laugh “I’ll take your word for it” You lie.

“Guys, this is Jisoo and y/n. Can you stop trying to head lock each other and say hello? You’re embarrassing me” Namjoon introduced the pair of you to the boys who were still arguing about the bet.

“Oh, hey girls.” Taehyung paused to inspect Jisoo’s face. “Hey, business and shipping? Ain’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, right!” Jisoo smiled

“Hyung aren’t you taking that class for like the third time? How many times can you fail you recon?” Jungkook teased him and Taehyung answered by giving him a slap on the shoulder.

“Hey y/n, do you want to go grab a drink? I think you’ll need it if you are to tolerate these guys” Namjoon offered.

“I trust you know best” you smile and quickly follow behind him. His shoulders wide and his muscles very visible even through his airy shirt. This guy was a whole statue.

“By the way, I’ve never seen you at parties before. I think I saw you once at the December ball but that’s about it. Not really a big fan of these kind of things, are you?” He suddenly said. You can’t really decode his words. How did Kim Namjoon know you even went to the December ball? You’re pretty sure you didn’t even talk to him that night.

“Interested in me much?” You give him a cheeky smile but he was just looking at you, a couple of seconds passed without him responding “I’m only joking! It’s true I don’t really attend these sort sort of things.”

“And what do you do for fun miss y/n?” He laughs and you swear if you could bottle the sound and get drunk on it you would.

“Oh you’ll think I’m lame”

“Try me” he said in a serious tone while starring right through your eyes. Suddenly, your body felt too heavy for your legs to bear. How can he get to you like that?

“Okay…” You start, him looking at you like that didn’t help control your train of thought, but you manage to get a hold of yourself “So you know that little corner cafe on willow street? Every Friday they have these comedy music nights. A guy-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar, yeah! I used to go there every Friday during my freshman years! Do they still do that old thing? I swear the pun with the atom never failed to make my day.” He started laughing again.

“Whoah what? You’re telling me you’ve been to the shrieking shack?” That place was a little treasure you’d found earlier this year. It was an amazingly cozy place, perfect during the cold winter time. The staff were all so kind and wore these big oversized colorful ties. But the people going there were all much older than you. You’ve never heard someone your age talk about that place. Let alone a person like Namjoon.

“Careful how you talk to a veteran y/n. I’ve basically helped to build the place” he chuckled.

“Y/n is that you?” A familiar voice greeted you.

“Jimin! Oh my god, hey! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” You hug him.

Jimin was a great soul, he majored in contemporary dance and ballet. He had been traveling for the past couple of years enrolling in some extra ballet classes in the magical city of Paris. You envied him for his talent and admired him for his passion.

“Girl, you have to come visit me. You’ll love Europe!”

“I would also LOVE to have some money in my wallet” you laugh “Oh Jimin, this is my friend, Namjoon. We go to collage together”

Namjoon gave you a look and soon after shook Jimin’s hand “What’s up. Nice to meet you”

“Nice to meet you too! But y/n, I’m so so sorry, I have to go. I was actually on my way out just now. I sort of uhm, have a thing-you know” he coughed “I’m leaving in two weeks, can we please meet before that?”

You knew Jimin was probably off to his ex boyfriends house. They broke up before Jimin left for Paris but every time he got back he’d have a couple of hookups with him. “Oh yeah! I bet you’ve got something very important right now, you better go quickly” you teased him “I’ll text you tomorrow, ok?”

Jimin laughed so much his eyes were barely visible “definitely! text me! I’ll be off then! Bye mister Kim Namjoon” he playfully said and was out of your sight a second later.

“You two seem…close” Namjoon suddenly commented

“Yeah! We were! But he has been studying abroad for like two years now.”

Namjoon’s facial expression was quite enigmatic “Did you guys ever… you know”

“Oh no no no.” You pause to make a small chuckle “Jimin isn’t exactly interested in, well, girls like me, or to be exact, girls in general”

Namjoon’s eyes widened and he immediately bursted into laughter “oh… I see” he made a pause “So tell me then, how come the old soul that never goes to parties finally attends one?”

You feel your cheeks burn red. Partly because the reason you went was him. You don’t know why, but the past month you and Namjoon hit it off very well and you wanted to test Jisoo’s crazy theory, you wanted to make sure for yourself if Namjoon was interested in you or not. Now the problem was, even if it turned out he did like you, you didn’t know what you’d do exactly. Namjoon was a really nice guy, but he didn’t come without his red flags.

“Just wanted to try something different, I guess”

“And how’s that 'different' treating you so far?”

What could you possibly tell him? That you have enjoyed every minute you guys have been talking? That you think that just by staring at you he could make you feel things no other guy could? You barely can admit all of that to yourself. “I think pleasantly surprised is the right way to put it” you repeat his words from before.

You see him smile at that. “You know what y/n? I’m really happy you came”

How can he make your heart beat so fast with just one sentence? “Oh really? And why is that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I just like talking to you, you know? Whenever I’m around you I feel at ease, like I can tell you anything. I feel different when I’m with you, but in a good way”

“Wow” that sound escaped your lips without your consent

Namjoon laughed “Why? Is it too weird?”

“No! Definitely not weird, more like, I don’t know, surprising?”

“In what way?”

“Well you’re… Kim Namjoon, you’re the 2021 class president and you’re like the most popular guy in the whole campus right now.” You made a pause “And I’m just..-“

“The most interesting girl I’ve ever met” he cuts you off

The way he was looking down at you made butterflies grow in your stomach “You really think so?”

He gently grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him “I know so” he leaned down, you swear his eyes had the whole galaxy painted inside of them. You couldn’t even breath properly at this point. Kim Namjoon was too close and the only thing you were thinking about was how well his kiss would feel “God, you’re so beautiful” he said and pulled you in for a soft, gentle kiss.

You couldn’t believe your senses. Kim Namjoon was kissing you and you really thought the earth had stopped spinning right then and there. You could feel his big palms traveling up and down your back.

His kiss was breathless, jubilant, filled with the joy of life, and you should stop him, he is no good to you, you know that, but his scent is delightful and his lips are so warm.

Unconsciously, your hands reach the inside of his shirt. His skin hot and soft at the touch.

"y/n" he practically moans your name, and just the sound makes your knees go week "Don't do that, I don't think I'll be able to stop"

"Who said anything about stopping?" You say and go back to kiss him even more passionately this time.

“There’s a lot of people here, my room is upstairs, would you perhaps want to-“

“Yes.” You immediately say. You don’t care about anything anymore, you’d let your future self deal with the consequences of today’s actions. The only thing that has been lingering in your mind is how good he’d feel inside of you.

The moment you’re finally alone in his room, he lifts you up, swinging you around and kissing you. It was like a dream. Namjoon was everything you wanted. Your reluctance about getting with him didn’t matter any more, the tingly feeling in your stomach overtook every single bit of hesitation you had. You needed him.

“God, you’re lovely” he exhaled

He looks at you as he sinks you down on the bed. Planting a soft kiss before his hands quickly begun to peel away clothes, yanking his belt loose, fumbling hurriedly at his trousers.

You look at his lips tracing your skin and the faint moisture left behind, you look at his muscly arms as he lifts you up and sinks you down again, you look at him looking at you, with eyes brighter than the sun itself. Was this all a dream?

When your dress was finally off he undoes your bra clasp on the way down. Slowly planting kisses on your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, your sternum, and you arched you back as you were needy for more.

His lips finally reach your nipples .Your boobs smooth under his hands, your nipple firm under his tongue, and there, that makes you squirm again, a little more insistently this time.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking wet right now, I feel it” You moan

You see him raise an eyebrow. A vivid smirk painted on his face “Let’s check, shall we?”

He splays his hand low across your belly, and the first brush of his thumb over your clit makes you breathe in sharply and him forget to breathe at all.

“I’m your friend?” He breaths in, his voice dangerously low

“Oh come on” You manage to say in between moans “what was I supposed to tell Jimin?”

His strokes and flicks are light and teasing, his thumb carefully circling around your clit. He gives you a slow, constant, unyielding pressure that makes your breath come up short, makes your toes curl in the effort not to move.

“I’m gonna fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your pretty little mouth” he covers your mouth with an intense kiss before slipping two fingers of his free hand inside of you, and you makes a noise like triumph and want all wrapped up together. If his fingers felt like this, you can’t imagine how his dick felt like.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, he keeps his eyes on his hands, on you, spread out beneath him “You like that baby?”

God, just the way the word 'baby' sounded coming from his mouth could make you come right this second. You look at him, his eyes look as hungry as his voice sounded. This dude was out of this world.

“Please Namjoon, I want it, I want you inside of me right now”

Namjoon lowered his underwear, and simply pressed his hard member on your slit. You could feel his balls softly caressing your clit as he made subtle movements while kissing you. “Such a needy little thing” he teases “Tell me how bad you want my cock inside of you”

“Oh..” you moan “I’d do anything, please…give it to me… fuck me like you own me” you whined as you used your pussy to caress his length up and down. He seemed to enjoy they way you touched him.

“Fuck y/n… that feels so good” he rests his forehead on yours.

“Imagine what my inside will feel then” you whisper in his ear “I’m such a tight good girl” you move your mouth in front of his, bitting his bottom lip as he growled when he felt your movement grow faster

“Fucking hell” he immobilized your body with his hands and pressed you down to the bed. He immediately shoves his dick inside you, filing you up to the brim before staying there for a couple of seconds and then pulling out completely. That movement made your vagina crave to be filled all the way up again.

“More” you whine, a dopey expression all over your face. You were so needy of him, but you didn’t care.

He lowered his left hand towards your thigh and gave it a big squeeze, kissing you aggressively while doing so. He quickly braced himself back into you, you felt your walls completely wrap around his member. It felt magical.

His strokes long and steady in the beginning. Every time he went in and out completely you felt the pit of your stomach burn in pleasure. Namjoon was doing everything right, you can’t lie to yourself, this is the best sex you’ve ever had. Normally with other guys you don’t even come close to coming, but now, you feel yourself trying not to do so.

“You like my dick being inside of you baby?” He plants a small kiss on your neck and goosebumps run down your spine.

‘Like’ was nowhere near good enough of a word to explain how much the sensation of him thrusting his hard member in and out of you made you feel. “I love it Namjoon… I just love it…”

Your words must’ve turned Namjoon even more on, because his pace immediately started becoming faster and sloppier. Every time your skin touched a loud sound could be heard. Namjoon was thrusting deeper and deeper into you, and every time he’d fill you up completely you’d cry out his name.

“Ah, I like my name so much better when you fucking moan it like that” he says and started shoving his dick inside of you like crazy. You could tell he was close to coming, and so were you.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls clenching and your toes curling. The sensation overtook all of your body, it was mad… your heart beat uncontrollable. Namjoon made you feel a completely new range of emotions.

“Ah y/n, I can feel you cumming all over my dick” his voice cracky, You could see how turned on he was by all of this, by you. “Fuck” he shoved harder “You’re so” harder “fucking hot”

Namjoon stopped and pulled out immediately spreading his cum all over your tummy. The sight was breathtaking, you’ve never found a man so attractive while coming before, but then, Namjoon is no ordinary man.

He quickly grabs a couple of tissues and wipes you clean before laying on top of you again, placing another soft kiss this time. His hand playing with your hair. You were both naked and sweaty and a mess but it felt so magical. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. You didn’t want even a centimeter of distance between you and him.

He suddenly stopped kissing you and simply stared at your eyes. After a minute or two, or maybe three, you're not really sure, time didn't exist right now, he tacked a string of hair behind your left ear.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date. Please. I know you don’t normally go out with guys like me, but I swear I’ll make it worth your while-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar. How does that sound? Or are you too good for the shrieking shack now?” You chuckled

“I’d love that” he smiled, making your heart melt a little.

#bts reactions #namjoon reaction #namjoon fanfic #bts fan fiction #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts college au #bts smut #bts fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fic

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

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Title: would you be so kind Ship: obikin Second: Ten years ago, Obi-Wan Kenobi met Anakin Skywalker, a charming young mage from Naboo, but as fate willed, they could not be together. A decade and thousands dead later, Alderaan’s High Court Sorcerer meets a Forger and his excited apprentice. AN: I forgot to post this on tumblr apparently, but here’s the first chapter of my second long WIP I am working on!

Then

The ship was crammed, filled to the brim with people clinging to one another, staring either at the home they’d lost or the home they hoped to be sailing to. Hundreds of ships had left Dromund Kaas already, carrying refugees across the ocean to safer harbors. The tension was high and sharp enough to cut as they sailed away from the doomed country and only relaxed when the pressure of the country’s shields finally left their shoulders.

“An awful sight, isn’t it?”

Anakin startled, instinctually pulled his coat around himself. Were he in a better shape, he would have lashed out immediately, winds, bindings, blood—

But the power flowing through his veins was too constricted, caged like a wild beast. Instead, Anakin just turned to look at the person who’d addressed him. An old woman with snow-white markings and long lekku stared at the dying country just as he had moments before, grief and resignation painting a sorrowful picture. “I never thought I’d leave this place. Did you?”

Wordlessly, Anakin shook his head. No, he certainly hadn’t thought he’d ever leave this place again. He’d been ready to be buried under the ashes of marble altars, not see this new dawn.

“I was born here, married too. All my children were born within the boundaries of this country and perhaps that is the reason they all left,” the woman continued. “I am glad that they weren’t here. If I think about what could have happened to them were they anywhere near the capital… I apologize; I hope you don’t mind my rambling. You looked like you needed company. Are you traveling to Naboo?”

He opened his mouth to reply, to give an affirmation, but stopped. He hadn’t quite thought where he’d go, except as far away from this place as he could. Naboo was certainly an option; Padmé would be glad to see him, he was sure. She’d take him in without asking a single question and defend him against the storms that were sure to come.

But Padmé was his friend and Anakin couldn’t allow her to shoulder his burden.

“No,” Anakin heard himself saying. “I’m not traveling to Naboo.”

“They are quite defenseless right now, yes, you are right. The fact that it’s the first stop of this ship is tempting enough for most to disregard what troubles might find them there.” The woman nodded in understanding. “I’ll be going to Alderaan myself. My eldest lives there, and in a country as strong as that, a tragedy like this can’t strike.”

She turned to look at the remains of Dromund Kaas again. The coastline used to be covered by beautiful large trees; his Master used to tell him how vital they were for its defense.

Now there was nothing but ash and darkness. Even here on the outskirts, where it had taken the longest for the remains of the catastrophe to reach, nobody was safe from it. Dromund Kaas had been in a pitiful state after the last war, which had made it an easy place to hideaway in. Alderaan might be stronger, the blooming center of magical education, but Anakin doubted they’d be able to defend against an attack like this. Nothing could save them from an attack such as this.

But Alderaan’s distance to this cesspit of disease was enough to provide a different kind of security.

Thousands of refugees would search for safety there, and Queen Breha was as cunning as she was kind. No one would be turned away and Anakin could slip in just right with them.

“I’m going to Alderaan as well,” Anakin replied.

The woman looked him over, then she beamed as if she were a young child and not already among the older members of her species.

Her smile was the first Anakin had seen in weeks. “Looks like we’ll be traveling companions then! You must tell me your name, young friend. I’m Raya Tano.”

She held out her hand and Anakin awkwardly shook it with his own left.

“My name is—”

Now

“Anakin Skywalker! Your automaton is ruining my kitchen!”

Sighing, Anakin let the spell sink back into the metal and settle into it. So much for working on his commissions today. A quick glance around the workshop told him that it was not one of his automatons running wild. Artoo was currently charging up and Threepio was keeping himself busy cleaning up. All the other small automatons Anakin crafted when he was bored were either asleep and charging or hurrying around the workshop, washing up the floors and putting away the tools Anakin had been using.

Anakin tugged off his gloves and threw them to a tiny and eager little automaton before picking up his softer everyday gloves. The leather was still quite resistant and had more runes stitched into it than most people dared to weave into one cloth, but they were nowhere near as excellently crafted as his work gloves. The dragonhide gloves were worth a fortune and so they never left his workshop unless Anakin had to. Anakin watched the little automaton put the gloves in their usual compartment until he could hear the click reassuring that the lock was in place. At first, that had only been a measure against thieves as he hadn’t had much to his name, but by now, it was a habit.

And it discouraged Ahsoka from stealing them for her own projects.

Anakin walked out of his workshop and crossed the courtyard to the small cottage he called his home, finding a kitchen in disarray, Raya standing on a chair with a small red automaton attempting to clean the floors.

“Look what a mess it’s making!” Raya said accusingly. “Instead of polishing my floors, it’s dirtying them!”

“I can see that,” Anakin hummed. He waited until the small automaton had reached his feet, then he bent down and pressed his hand flat on its small back, stopping it. Ahsoka’s handiwork was getting better; this little guy had kept moving for a while despite her absence. Anakin had no idea what the formal apprenticeship for forgers entailed, when they ought to hit what milestone, but he was willing to bet that Ahsoka was years ahead of her peers. Her spells were strong, her rune work fantastic, and very few actual weaknesses were left to explore in her automatons.

But Anakin was still a Master and Ahsoka only an Apprentice. Her work was not yet good enough to keep out foreign interference. Without much thought, he deactivated the automaton completely.

“This was your granddaughter’s handiwork,” Anakin commented. “She’s improving in leaps and bounds.”

Raya huffed and stepped from her chair. “I’m glad to hear that, but weren’t you meant to teach her control?”

“I am,” Anakin said, the argument an old and fond one. They returned to it frequently, mostly to annoy the young Apprentice. “And were she still as much of a mess as three years ago, she hardly would be able to craft such a fine automaton. Can’t do anything about her manners.”

Especially since she’d become a teenager. Anakin didn’t remember being as much of a pain as Ahsoka could be.

“And here I was thinking Masters were supposed to teach their Apprentices a medium of decorum.”

Anakin snorted. “Yeah, well, that’s what she has you for, doesn’t she?”

Raya’s expression softened. “That she does.”

Anakin sometimes wondered how Raya managed to stay so kind and calm when the world had taken so much from her. Her husband, country, her children— and yet she still stood straight, caring for the fellow traveler she’d never allowed to leave and the granddaughter that had been dumped on her with just a warning for Ahsoka’s generally explosive tendencies.

“Where is Ahsoka anyway?” Anakin asked, looking around the kitchen as if she would jump out in the open any moment. “I sent her on an errand earlier this morning, but she hasn’t returned yet.”

Unfortunately, Raya couldn’t tell him either. “I have no idea where that girl is running around—”

“Anakin!”

Speak of the dark and it shall appear. The door was thrown open and Ahsoka rushed inside, tracking even more dirt all over the floor, causing Raya to throw up her arms in defeat in a way Anakin knew meant Ahsoka would be left with all her favorite chores for the next week.

“Welcome back, Ahsoka,” Anakin said. “You’re late.”

“Yes, yes,” Ahsoka replied and rolled her eyes, obviously disinterested in what he had to say. “I got all you asked for and ordered the new metals, but look at this!”

Ahsoka raised her hand, revealing a ripped-off poster. It was tasteful in design, fine cursive writing on light blues, gold ornaments in the corners and, of course, the royal crest right in the middle of it.

Her Majesty the Queen of the Kingdom of Alderaan, Breha Organa, invites all Alderaani Practitioners of the Mythic Arts to attend the festivities in the capital of Aldera—

“Absolutely not,” Anakin said before he could even read the rest of the text. “We’re not going to Aldera to some festival.”

“Why not?” Ahsoka shot back. “It’s no summit, but it would at least be something.”

Her bitterness did not go unnoticed. Ahsoka had begged for months to attend this year’s summit. Every five, all magic practitioners gathered on Tython to exchange notes on their craft and pretend they were not also discussing the politics of their respective countries, forging alliances and the like. Anakin hadn’t been to the last summit, it having been just after Dromund Kaas, and the one before were tainted by the memories that followed, no matter how sweet the time had been. Ahsoka, of course, had begged to attend this year’s one, but it would only be foolish and reckless. He couldn’t just walk into the biggest gathering of mages in the whole continent and expect to get out of it without anyone realizing who he was, asking questions, concluding what he’d done.

Anakin had too much to hide, too much to lose, and he wasn’t going to risk his little Apprentice for it.

Not that Ahsoka knew any of that and wasn’t in the least satisfied with Anakin’s reply and immediately made her displeasure known.

“What would you even want to see there?” Anakin asked, trying to downplay how entertaining such an event was. “It’ll just be all the posh court sorcerers showing off with their fancy focusing crystals. It’s utterly boring and uncreative.”

“Like you wouldn’t use a focusing crystal if you had one,” Ahsoka muttered, arms crossed. “It’s just— there’s nobody else around here who can do magic. And all you ever do is work on machines.”

“Which requires a lot of concentration as it’s not just the manipulation of one aspect, but—”

“—but many, yes, yes, I know the speech,” Ahsoka said and dutifully listed all elements that went into their craft. There was a reason why not many forgers existed. Most mages lacked the talent, patience, and education to learn this craft, or were just plain afraid that they’d permanently damage their ability to use magic at all.

And with the speed technology was evolving and magic weaponized to terrifying new heights, not too many people still had use for forgers. Where two-hundred-years ago, you wouldn’t have gone out to hunt a dragon with a simple sword, but only with one crafted by a Master forger, nowadays you didn’t necessarily need one. Battle magic was on the rise again, especially with more and more countries growing uneasy, peace treaties falling apart. Combined with the threats from the northern continents, it was no wonder people cared less and less about expensive forgers when they could mass-produce and enchant simpler items.

“I just hoped you’d allow at least this,” Ahsoka finished. Her shoulders dropped. “Should have known better. I’ll go finish my readings.”

Ahsoka turned around, her shoulders still hanging, her head low.

Damn it.

Anakin knew that she was doing it on purpose. His Apprentice was cunning and had learned how to play into his every weakness. Slowly she marched into the direction of the door, dragging her feet behind her for effect and dramatics.

Raya raised a brow at him. She usually stayed out of Ahsoka’s tutelage, knowing next to nothing about magic herself, but even with his past being little more than a mystery to her, she could read him better than anyone else.

“Urgh, fine,” Anakin heard himself say. “Fine, we can go to the festival.”

Ahsoka turned around quicker than light and jumped up. “Yes!”

“But that means you’re not going to bring up the summit again!”

“Yes! Of course!” A moment later, Anakin had an armful of an apprentice. “Thank you so much, Master, you’re the best!”

Once she let go of him, she went to hug Raya and hug even her dirty automaton to her chest, still radiating happiness. “I need to go pack my bags immediately!”

“The festival is not for another week—”

Ahsoka obviously didn’t care. So caught up in her joy, she rushed upstairs, heading to her room to start packing. It shouldn’t surprise Anakin that she was so motivated. Ahsoka was a person who thrived on interaction, being surrounded by other people. While the people of their village were friendly, none of them were mages or even just sensitive to magic. It was one of the reasons Anakin had decided to stay without too much fight. But growing up so far removed from other mages had made Ahsoka twice as curious to meet others.

The thought made his stomach churn. He’d have to give Ahsoka formal lessons about their trade now, just if somebody asked questions that were too pointed. She’d also need a bit of the know-how on how you usually interacted with other mages and which pretentious bastards to call sorcerers before they threw a hissy fit. All these capital folks were much too sensitive about terminology after all. Anakin had never bothered to tell her the differences before, but Ahsoka would kill him if she accidentally embarrassed herself because he hadn’t seen it fit to instruct her properly. Forget teaching Ahsoka how to improve her automaton, the next week would be full of etiquette lessons. Skies, there’d be people trying to steal their spellwork too. Had he even mentioned that kind of theft before? Anakin honestly couldn’t recall.

“Already regretting it?” Raya asked, her voice just a touch amused.

“Just a bit,” Anakin replied.

“It’ll be good for her,” Raya said, convinced and confident enough for the both of them. “And good for you as well. I’ve known you for years now and you’ve never even brought a friend over. I’m not going to be young forever, you know. I do expect to be introduced to your future spouse at some point.”

“And this is my cue to go packing as well,” Anakin announced and followed Ahsoka up the stairs with Raya’s laughter following him.

He had no intention of being with anyone, ever, unless he could find glamours that held up even when majorly distracted. On his way up the stairs, Anakin caught a look of himself in the window, saw black vines curling around his neck, inviting someone to take a closer look.

It was better this way.

#obikin #star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #ahsoka tano #fanfic

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reinerispretty · 4 years

Text

reminiscence. (? x f!reader) pt6

THANK U FOR BEING SO PATIENT i am so excited to get back to this story!!

pt1

pt5

pt7

“That’s not how you do it.”

Asami furrowed her brows at her. “Oh yeah? Then show me how you knead dough.” (Y/N) rolled up her sleeves and began pressing into the dough with the heel of her palm, at first gently, but then with some effort.

“It’s like raising a baby,” (Y/N) said. “You have to be soft, but firm.”

It took (Y/N) quite a few days to recover. She shivered in bed the first night, retching violently into the trash bin Jinora had kindly placed at her bedside. She had given her a worried smile, which (Y/N) weakly returned. Falling asleep was difficult because of how cold she felt. When sleep finally did grace her, it was littered with dreams of empty blackness and monsters licking at her heels. She woke up every few hours, sweat beading down her neck and a scream threatening to rip at her throat. She felt like her heart was beating too fast to be contained by her chest. Her first night of illness was undoubtedly the worst.

Knowing this, Korra had moved a cot into her room the next night. She knew what it was like to be ill and how isolating it felt, so she thought (Y/N) could use the company. Especially when her fever had risen to a temperature near scalding. Korra bundled her in her warmest blankets from the Northern Water Tribe, tucking (Y/N) into the fabric. She looked so small and weak, nothing like the bright, curious girl that Korra had come to know over the past few days. Naga slept protectively at the girls’ feet. (Y/N) slept most of the night and well into the next day.

But when she awoke, the rest of the household was surprised to find her walking into the dining room, one of Korra’s blankets still wrapped around her shoulders and the color returning to her skin. “Could I have something to eat?” Her voice was hoarse from lack of use. Pema insisted that she go back to bed and rest, that dinner would be brought to her, and although she hadn’t known her very long, (Y/N) knew better than to argue.

Quickly, she made her way back to her room and crawled back into bed, her stomach eagerly awaiting the arrival of food.

Korra entered a few minutes later, shocked to find (Y/N) looking so chipper. “Someone’s feeling better. Pema made your favorite.” (Y/N) cocked her head to the side. “Bolin told me. Soup dumplings.” (Y/N) held in her squeal of excitement as Korra handed her the hot bowl and chopsticks.

“So,” Korra began as she scarfed down her dumplings. “I have a plan. We,” (Y/N) liked how Korra included her in the ‘we.’ “Will take a ship to the South Pole and enter the Spirit World through the portal. Then we’ll ask the spirits if they know anything about you.”

(Y/N) finished her last dumpling, her mouth burning comfortably from the hot food. “Is that it?” Korra let out a surprised laughed at her boldness.

“Did you want more action?” (Y/N’s) face flushed.

“No, I just mean that it seems really easy.”

“If all goes well, it will be.”

(Y/N) was bundled up so tightly for their trip that she could hardly move. Pema hadn’t like the idea of them leaving before she was feeling her best, but (Y/N) insisted that they left as soon as possible. The thought of getting her memories back made her heart race.

She stood in the courtyard of the Air Temple, Tenzin and his family standing before her. “I can’t thank you enough for your hospitality,” She said. “I hope one day I can repay you for taking care of me.”

“You have to come back and play with us!” Ikki begged, jumping up and down as she clapped her hands together. “Please, please, please!”

“Yeah!” Meelo interjected. “You were too busy throwing up to play with us!” (Y/N) laughed as Tenzin blanched at his children.

“I’m sorry, Meelo. I promise I’ll come back and play with you guys soon!” She glanced at Tenzin and Pema. “As long as I’m welcome, of course.”

“You are always welcome here,” Tenzin reassured her, and (Y/N) smiled. Korra walked out of the house then, both her and (Y/N’s) bags slung across her shoulders.

“Ready to go?” Korra questioned, and (Y/N) nodded. She waved goodbye to the family and walked down the stone steps to the dock, where their ship was pulling up. (Y/N’s) eyes widened at the sight of it. “Ship” was an understatement. It was huge, twice the size of any boat she had seen in her almost three weeks of memory. It was white, with thick blue stripes painted around the edges.

“Is that yours?” She asked Korra.

“It’s Varrick’s,” She called back to her. “He’s a super rich guy. Kinda sorta a friend of ours, a guess. I called in a favor.”

“You’re sure he doesn’t mind?”

Korra turned around and flashed her a smile. “Varrick tosses money around like it’s leaves. If anything happens to this boat, he’s got ten more.” (Y/N) smiled back at Korra and tried to ignore the statement, “If anything happens.”

When they reached the dock, one of the most beautiful girls (Y/N) had ever seen stood at it’s edge. She waved at the two of them, her dark hair fluttering behind her in the breeze. Korra dropped their bags on the dock and enveloped the girl in a hug. “Asami!” She cheered.

Asami squeezed Korra tightly and gave her a kind smile. “It’s good to see you again!” Her green eyes fluttered to (Y/N). “You must be (Y/N). Korra’s told me so much about you.” She extended her hand and (Y/N) shook it firmly.

“I guess that’s not very much,” (Y/N) joked, eliciting a laugh from Asami.

“Where are the guys?” Asami asked, and Korra shrugged.

“Probably running late, as usual.”

“I want to say thank you to you both,” (Y/N) said suddenly, wringing her fingers together nervously. “I’m sure you both have heard some pretty bad things about me, but I’m so thankful you’re willing to help.”

“Mako has a bit of a flair for the dramatics,” Asami said as she waved a hand into the air. “As far as we’re concerned, you’re a completely different person.” Korra nodded in agreement, flashing her white teeth at (Y/N).

Mako and Bolin joined them only a few moments later and the five of them boarded the massive ship. Varrick had sent along an entire crew to accompany them, which everyone was very thankful for. As much as Team Avatar trusted their abilities, none of them were very keen on the idea of steering a ship for a whole week.

They departed from the bay outside of Republic City and (Y/N) watched from one of the enclosed decks as the skyscraper buildings faded into nothingness. A nervous pit fit itself in the bottom of her stomach. This was really happening. She would get her memories back.

The majority of her was absolutely ecstatic. She hated not knowing anything about herself and couldn’t wait for her life to get back to normal--whatever that meant before she lost her memory. But a small, miniscule part of her enjoyed what was happening right now. If it hadn’t been for losing her memory, she would not have become friends with Korra. (Y/N) feared that once she got her memories back, there would be some things she didn’t want to remember.

Asami appeared at her side, offering (Y/N) yet another kind smile. “How do you like the ship?”

“It’s huge,” (Y/N) said. “I can barely feel the water underneath us. I was worried that since I was sick, I wouldn’t feel well, but I feel fine.”

“Korra mentioned that you hadn’t been feeling well. I’m glad you’re okay now.”

(Y/N’s) eyes trailed to the middle of the room, where Korra, Mako, and Bolin talked to each other. “Have you known them long?”

“Only a few months,” Asami said. “But they’ve become my best friends.” (Y/N) felt a tug at her heart. She wondered if before everything, if she had had a group like this. “Are you feeling hungry?”

“A little,” (Y/N) admitted.

“How about we make something in the kitchens? Just you and me.” (Y/N) nodded excitedly and followed Asami down two flights of stairs, where the kitchen took up the entire floor. The staff was scarce, considering that dinner would not be happening for a long while, so they both rifled through the pantries trying to find ingredients. “We could make a pizza!”

(Y/N) poked her head around the pantry door and stared quizzically at Asami. “Do you know how to make a pizza?” The dark haired girl shrugged, gathering ingredients into her arms.

“It can’t be that hard.”

It turned out it was that hard, but they had found a cookbook with their desired recipe and managed to at least get the dough started. Asami slapped it against the counter as (Y/N) giggled. “That’s not how you do it.”

“It’s like raising a baby,” (Y/N) said. “You have to be soft, but firm.” Asami laughed at her comparison.

“How do you know so much about making dough?” (Y/N) paused for a moment before turning back to her work, kneading into the dough harder.

“I’m not sure,” She admitted. “I guess there are some things left in there.”

Bolin stood in the entryway to the kitchens, not yet noticed by the two girls. He watched as (Y/N) taught Asami how to make pizza dough. It brought him back to a memory he reflected on often during the years of her absence.

Years ago, after (Y/N) and Bolin had taken each other out on many dates, there was the night that he decided to ask her to be his girlfriend. He was incredibly nervous, his palms were a sweaty, clammy mess, but (Y/N) had stared at him kindly.

“I want to show you something,” She said as they walked down the streets of Republic City, their hands intertwined. If she noticed how slippery his hands were, she didn’t acknowledge it. Like he did in all things, Bolin followed (Y/N) with no questions asked.

She led him to Kwong’s Cuisine, which had closed for the night hours ago. She pulled a silver key from her pocket and led him to the backdoor. She unlocked the heavy metal door and pushed it open with her shoulder, her fingers still interlocked with Bolin’s.

“Are you sure we should be in here?” He asked the darkness. (Y/N) flipped a switch and bright, white lights illuminated the silver fixtures of the kitchens.

“I’m the owner’s daughter,” (Y/N) said with a teasing scoff. “What are they going to do, fire me?” She pulled open the fridges and began gathering her ingredients. Bolin had never seen her move like this before. (Y/N) always seemed so confident, but here, she seemed liked she owned the place. He guessed in a way, she did. “I’d like to make you brownies,” She said to him, pulling out a metal stool with her foot and gesturing toward it. “Sit.”

Bolin obeyed and watched with fascinated eyes as she mixed the batter together from scratch. “Are you doing this all off the top of your head?” He asked. She nodded.

“Mom always made me cook when I still lived with her,” She said, offering him the spoon so he could get a taste of the batter. He took his finger and swiped it into the chocolatey mixture before licking it.

“These are going to be the best brownies I’ve ever had! You should be a chef!” (Y/N) laughed.

“Maybe one day,” She said. She put the brownies in the oven and set the timer. As they waited, they talked about their days and the events of Bolin’s latest pro-bending match. When the timer buzzed, (Y/N) hopped up from her seat and pulled the brownies out.

“I’m too excited to wait,” Bolin said, grabbing a knife and slicing into the gooey brownies.

“Bo, be careful you’re gonna-”

“Ow, ow, ow,” Bolin complained as he held the scorching hot brownie, but he tossed it into his mouth. He tried his best to chew. “It burns but it’s so yummy,” He mumbled as he tried to breathe hot air out of his mouth.

“Your girlfriend makes pretty good brownies, huh?” She asked, and Bolin nearly choked on his hot piece of brownie. He doubled over as he coughed and tried to swallow it down. “Oh my goodness, are you okay?”

“Girlfriend?” Bolin asked once he had righted himself. (Y/N’s) face flushed. Had she calculated everything wrong?

“Yeah, girlfriend. I thought that girlfriend is okay.” Bolin nodded, his hands wrapping around the small of her back to pull her close.

“Girlfriend’s okay!” He said. “As long as boyfriend’s okay, too.” (Y/N) smiled brightly up at him.

“Boyfriend’s okay,” She said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Bolin leaned down to kiss her and she could taste the hot brownies on his tongue.

“Bolin!” Asami called to him, breaking his flashback. “You want a piece of pizza? I think (Y/N) should be a chef, because it’s amazing!”

Bolin stepped into the room, giving (Y/N) a tight smile. She smiled back at him as she chewed on her piece of pizza. “What kind is it?”

“Pineapple and pepperoni,” She said, and Bolin twisted his face in disgust. “No, no! You have to give it a chance first, please?” He conceded and took a bite of pizza. It did taste amazing.

“Not bad,” He said with a teasing smile, and both Asami and (Y/N) rolled their eyes.

Once the three had finished devouring the pizza, (Y/N) moved to leave the room with Asami, but Bolin called out her name. She turned to him, her eyes staring up at his quizzically. “I just wanted to say,” He cleared his throat. “That, even though I know that you know that things didn’t necessarily end well for us, I don’t, uh, have hard feelings.” He could feel his face redden. “It was a long time ago, and I know I can’t tell you anything yet, but I’m sure you had a reason for doing certain things, so I don’t blame you.”

(Y/N’s) eyes shined so brightly in the kitchen light that Bolin was sure tears would spill over any moment. “Thank you,” She said quietly, an uncertain smile making its way across her features. “I, um, want to apologize for whatever it was I did. You seem very kind and great and whatever happened between us, I’m certain you didn’t deserve it.” Bolin nodded, his own eyes prickling at the backs. “Could we start over? Just be friends?”

Bolin nodded perhaps a bit too eagerly. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

(Y/N) smiled up at Bolin and felt that maybe she had been wrong. Maybe things would be okay.

When she left the kitchens, she wondered if everyone had been planning to gather down there, because she ran into Mako as she was walking away. “Sorry,” She said, refusing to meet his eyes. She would never admit it, but Mako intimidated her. His dislike for her was always apparent and (Y/N) hated it.

“Bolin told me what he said to you,” Mako said as she began to walk past. She turned back to look at him.

“So?”

“He’s forgiving, but I’m not. What you did, it was cruel. You were cruel.”

“As if you don’t spend every waking moment reminding me,” (Y/N) said with a sigh. Mako narrowed his eyes at her.

“If you do anything--”

“You’ll do what, Mako?” She snapped. She had enough of him thinking that he could talk to her whatever way he pleased. “Hurt me?”

He blinked in surprise, as if the suggestion was ridiculous. “Just stay away from him, alright?”

“How about you stay away from me? The ship’s big enough.” With that, she stormed up the stairs and joined the rest of her friends. (Y/N) hated Mako. Absolutely hated him. The flush of her cheeks and her racing heart proved that.

---

Tag List!

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#atla #lok #mako #mako x reader #bolin #bolin x reader #asami #asami x reader #korra #korra x reader #writing #fanfiction #legend of korra #avatar

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slaylinski · 3 years

Text

5 Times Something Almost Happened And 1 Time It Did

Pairing: Sam x Bucky (AU) 5+1

Word count: 8704

Warnings: angst, major character death (mentioned), grief, miscommunication, Sambucky can be absolutely idiots sometimes, mutual pining, fluff, happy ending

Prompt: Sam and Bucky are obviously in love with each other, but each secretly thinks the other is the boyfriend of their recently deceased friend (Steve) and that they should respect the bro code.

A/N: So, I recently saw that prompt on IG and since there is no fanfiction out there that covers that I decided to write one myself. Prepare yourself for some misunderstandings, angst, grieving and sambucky fluff!

btw, shoutout to @januarystears and @gwen-novella for being my beta reader and emotional Marvel supporters🥰💕

Please be aware that English is not my first language.

Bucky was looking at the tombstone in front of him, still not able to process what happened the last few days. Steve Rogers was his childhood best friend. He remembered them being 5-year old’s trying to steal some of the cookies his mother had baked; he remembered Steve calling him at 3am on a Sunday, crying and telling him about his mother‘s car accident, the one that had made him an orphan. He remembered his parents not even hesitating for a second before they took Steve in.

And now Steve was gone. And everything Bucky had left were a few memories that were already starting to fade.

Since his parents were dead not many people came to Steve’s funeral. A few friends he had met in Chicago, Bucky’s family and of course Sam Wilson.

After he and Steve had finished college, Steve had gotten an amazing job offer in Chicago and since Bucky had decided to stay in New York, they had had to adapt to not being able to see each other every day. They had still managed to see each other monthly, most of the times Steve coming to New York, since Bucky’s family, meaning Steve’s family, was still in New York as well. And every time they had visited each other Steve had talked about Sam. Every damn time. Bucky had felt like he already knew the other man. Obviously, he had been happy that Steve had found a boyfriend in Chicago.

Since Bucky was bi and Steve had been gay, they had had a few first times together. From having their first kiss with each other to some things he was not going to mention here. They had tried to make their relationship work, but ultimately decided they were better off as friends. Since then they had not really talked much about their relationships. The only thing that had mattered to Bucky had been that Steve was happy and the way he had talked about Sam had made Bucky realize that he had been happy.

“You okay, man? “ Bucky looked to his left and stared into a pair of brown eyes.

“Yeah, I am okay," he said quietly, which was far from the truth. He still could not believe that Steve was dead.

“I am Sam, Sam Wilson," Sam introduced himself to Bucky, which made the latter chuckle. “Yeah, I already know that. Steve talked about you, a lot," Bucky tried to smile but his eyes were still focused on the tombstone in front of him.

“You know, it is a shame that he never introduced us," Sam said.

“It really is, but I feel like I already know you from all the stories Steve told me about you. I am glad he had someone in Chicago who took care of him. I am sorry for your loss," Bucky felt terrible. He felt like he could not breathe, like drowning but not being able to swim to the surface.

“I am really sorry too, Bucky," Sam whispered. Bucky barely remembered the next few hours. They went to the Barnes house for a funeral service. He saw his sister Becca who tried not to cry but miserably failed, he met his parents’ eyes. His mom was silently crying, and his dad wore sunglasses, trying to hide his swollen eyes as well. To his parents it was like they had lost one of their children. To Becca and him it was like they had lost their brother. And Bucky could not even imagine how hard it was for Sam to lose his boyfriend, his significant other, the person he wanted to grow old with. However, Sam looked more pulled together, like he tried his best not to cry in front of Bucky. Which Bucky understood, it was not like they knew each other very well.

“Do you want something to eat?" Sam asked and tried to feed Bucky some of the cake that was sitting on the kitchen counter. It was one of the many cakes people had brought over to the Barnes house after they had found out about Steve’s death. Everybody had loved Steve Rogers and it was a real shock to them that he had died at such a young age. Bucky, however, did not feel like eating. He felt like sleeping. Like the kind of sleep that makes you forget reality, the one that comforts you. He had not slept for the last couple of days, he was afraid of dreaming, afraid of dreaming and waking up. Afraid that his mind was going to dream about Steve and then him waking up and realizing that it was only a dream and that he was really gone.

“No, thanks. Do you want something?" Bucky asked but Sam shook his head. It was the first time that Bucky took a closer look at Sam Wilson. He was a little bit shorter than Bucky. His brown eyes were warm, and they looked worried, and Bucky felt like Sam was as close to breaking down as he himself was but tried to hold it together. The longer he looked at Sam, the more he understood Steve when he had talked about how warm Sam's eyes were or how good his smile looked. Sam was exactly the type of guy Bucky would go for. Sam tried to comfort him, and Bucky did not understand why. It was not like he had lost his boyfriend. He had lost his best friend, which was pretty hard as well, but not as hard as what Sam was going through now.

“Sorry, I need to get out of here,” Bucky told Sam and rushed out of the house.

The Barnes house was pretty small, barely enough room for two children, but they had squeezed together when Steve had moved in. The backyard had a small garden. A bench facing the giant cherry tree Bucky and Steve used to climb up.

Bucky felt his lip tremble and sniffed. He was all alone now. Steve was gone and there was nothing he could change about that. He felt a tear slipping down his face and tried to wipe it away with his shirtsleeve, but his stupid shirt was too tight, and he could not reach his eyes, and everything was just stupid.

A few moment later his vision was blurred with tears and he tried hard not to sob. It was horrible. He had not even realized that Sam had followed him outside until he felt a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “Hey, it’s going to be alright, Bucky,” he said and tried to calm him down. The second he noticed Sam; Bucky felt like shit. Sam had just lost his boyfriend and Bucky was out here crying and not even thinking about Sam for a second.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky looked at Sam. “I just… I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now and I-,” he tried to continue but Sam interrupted him.

“If you try to apologize for having feelings, Barnes, I am going to throw you into your neighbors’ pool,” Sam pointed to his right to the swimming pool next to them. “I’m not joking. I don’t know what Steve told you about me, but I’m a man of my word,” Sam laughed. Bizarrely, Bucky laughed as well, like a real laugh, not the ones you fake to seem polite.

“You know, he would’ve hated that,” Bucky declared.

“What? “

“Us here, moping around. He would have wanted his funeral to be party. Has he ever told you about the first years of his life?”

Sam shook his head.

“When we were younger, Steve used to be sick, like all the time. He had the worst allergies and asthma and everything you could possibly imagine. Some winters were hard, there were times when he was in the hospital for week.

Then one time he had this stupid idea to plan his funeral because somehow in his 10-year-old brain he was thinking that he was going to die. And me, being the other 10-year-old, agreed to that so we were in that chapel and he was reading a text that he’d written and playing some weird ass song he’d found on his Mp3 player and then we were all mushy and crying. A couple of weeks later he was home again. A few years after that, he got his height boost and most of his allergies were gone and he became the Steve you know,” Bucky hadn’t even realized that he was crying again but it was a weird combo of crying and laughing.

“God, I miss him so much already,” he sniffed.

“So, Steve Rogers would’ve wanted a party for his funeral? “Sam grinned, and Bucky couldn’t help but start to notice Sam’s laugh. The way his eyes crinkled and the way his whole body moved when he laughed.

“We’re going to get through this, Buck. I promise,” Sam put his arm around Bucky and patted his shoulder.

“You know, you can always call me if you want to talk,” this was the first time that Bucky saw that Sam had tears in his eyes as well. Sam quickly looked in a different direction but left his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. Bucky was not mad that Sam called him ‘Buck ‘, he felt horrible. He was a horrible person. His best friend had just died and all he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss his best friend’s boyfriend.

Sam Wilson was fairly sure that Bucky Barnes was one of the strongest people he had ever met. He could not even imagine what it must feel like to lose his boyfriend. Well, until the funeral, Sam hadn’t been quite sure if Bucky really had been Steve’s boyfriend because even though he had known Steve for more than 4 years, he still did not remember one woman or one man that Steve had ever mentioned with as much enthusiasm as he had radiated when talking about Bucky. So, it was kind of weird to Sam that they had only visited each other occasionally and still hadn’t been living together after so many years, but he hadn’t wanted to ask why. It was not his business anyways.

Even though he did not know much about Steve Rogers’ love life, he considered him one of his best friends if not his best friend. Therefore, it was hard on him to have lost Steve so suddenly. He had never heard of somebody dying of an asthma attack. Especially someone who hadn’t had one in more than ten years. He remembered Bucky’s call and nearly dropping his phone. Bucky’s parents had been Steve’s emergency contacts, so it was unsurprising that they, and thus Bucky, had gotten notified first.

He had been in the middle of cooking dinner for him and Steve, since they were sharing a flat. It was not like they were poor or not earning enough money, it was more about not being alone and being able to save up a bit for the future. None of them minded living with a roommate, though.

After the call he had travelled to New York to attend Steve’s funeral. It was not how he’ imagined his first trip to New York and it certainly wasn’t the way he had wanted to meet the famous Bucky Barnes. After the death of Steve’s parents when he’d been a teenager, Bucky’s family had been all he’d had left.

Sam had felt a little anxious, and even though two of his and Steve’s friends, Wanda and Pietro, had come with him, he still felt like an intruder. He still could not believe that Steve was really gone.

He recognized Bucky immediately. He had seen a lot of picture over the years and even met him one time via face time but that could not have prepared him for what he saw the first time he looked into Bucky’s eyes.

Even though he was on the verge of crying, he looked like one of the most beautiful men Sam had ever seen, and the second he thought of that Sam wanted to slap himself. He felt like the worst person on earth. His best friend had just died and all he could think about was how good-looking his boyfriend was. He was going to end up in hell.

For the next couple of days Sam felt numb. Bucky kindly invited him to stay over at his flat in New York, so Sam didn’t have to bother booking a hotel room or anything like that.

Since his boss had known Steve as well but could not attend his funeral due to business, he kindly gave Sam two paid weeks off. Sam was not sure how he was going to handle going back to the flat he shared with Steve. He already felt lonely and was not sure if he could handle throwing out Steve’s stuff.

But right now, he was thinking about a lot of different things, for example about Bucky, who was sitting right in front of him, eating a bagel for breakfast.

Bucky’s flat was not what Sam expected. After living together with Steve Rogers for nearly three years, he thought that he knew the way Steve liked to live. Pretty messy was an understatement. His room looked like it belonged to a messy 3-year-old. Bucky’s flat however was completely clean. So clean that Sam would not have been bothered eating off the floor. The thought of Bucky constantly reminding Steve to put away his stuff made him laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky looked at him curiously and swallowed the last bit of his bagel.

“Oh, nothing,” Sam tried hide his grin.

“Hey, that’s not fair. Tell me,” Bucky protested but he was smiling as well. The pretty smile, the one that made Sam’s heart flutter. He quickly put that thought aside.

“Well, you knew Steve better than me and when I see how clean your flat is all I can think about is how messy ours used to look.”

That made Bucky laugh as well. “You know, I asked myself the same question. Do you remember when you were on that business trip? That time I visited Steve, and it was the first time I saw your flat and I was shocked how clean it actually looked. Not that Steve was a messy, but I’m amazed how you managed to get along with him not putting his stuff everywhere.”

“Well at least he tried with you, whenever he was coming home, he just threw his jacket on our couch and went into the bathroom,” Sam laughed. `

“Yeah, he tried his best whenever he visited me,” Bucky answered.

‘Perks of being the boyfriend, Sam thought but didn’t say it out loud. He did not want to upset Bucky and tried to talk as little about Steve as possible, only referring to him when Bucky told him a story about them.

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky asked after they put away the dishes from their late breakfast. “I’m done sitting here and moping around. I need to get out of here, get some fresh air.”

“Do you have something in mind?” Sam looked at him. It was weird, even though he never met Bucky in person he felt like he already knew him. Steve used to talk about him all the time, mentioning him even when he was talking about the most unnecessary things. At first Sam thought it was cute, but after a while it kind of annoyed him. However, Bucky really was as great as Steve had described him. In the last days he got to know him and found out that he was one of the most generous and humble persons he had ever met.

“I actually do. I have been craving ice cream ever since I saw that Ben and Jerry’s commercial last night and thought that we could go to the Central Park,” Bucky suggested.

“Sound great. Let me get my jacket and I am good to go”.

They each grabbed their phones, wallets and jackets. Bucky stuffed his keys into the pocket of his leather jacket. Sam could swear that Bucky had at least five different versions of the same leather jacket in different colors.

Bucky’s flat was close to the Central Park since he lived in Manhattan. Sam was not quite sure what kind of job Bucky had but it must have been paying really well if he could afford living that close to the city. They didn’t talk much while walking to the park, but Bucky took the time to show Sam some of Steve’s favorite spots, for example his favorite coffee shop. Whenever they walked past a shop or cafe Steve used to like, Sam knew immediately because Bucky tensed up.

Obviously, Sam had never been to the Central Park in New York and he had only ever seen it on pictures so far, so he was surprised how big it actually was. There were a lot of children, parents and young people walking around. A couple of them were inline skating or even skateboarding. It was a sunny afternoon, which made for a crowded park.

“What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?” Bucky asked him after they sat down on a free bench they found.

“Pretty much any ice cream flavor,” Sam laughed.

“You know, that was Steve’s answer to that question as well. He ate pretty much every flavor of ice cream I bought so I always had to hide it or buy an extra pack,” Bucky smiled but his eyes looked sad.

Sam wasn’t sure what he could do to make him feel better. And the worst was that he was still thinking about how good-looking Bucky was. “Just surprise me, okay?”

Bucky nodded and quickly walked away to the nearest ice cream van.

Sam leaned against the bank and closed his eyes. His mind was still trying to process Steve’s death. When he was younger his dad had died, and his mom had made him go to a therapist for a couple of months. The woman had told him about the five different stages of grief, and Sam was sure he was still stuck in denial. He just couldn’t imagine his life without Steve Rogers, and he still did not know how he would manage living on his own. He might get a different flat, one that was smaller.

His thoughts were interrupted by Bucky, who returned, carrying two ice cream cones in his hands. There were at least three scoops of chocolate ice cream on each one. Sam’s eyes grew big once Bucky settled the ice cream into his hand.

“I thought we might as well treat ourselves,” he only stated and started eating his ice cream.

If there was something worse than having the hots for your dead best friend’s boyfriend, it was watching his so-called boyfriend licking ice cream.

He quickly looked away and stared at the ice cream in his hand, which was slowly starting to melt.

“You know, I bought this for you so you could eat it. Not watch it melt, but you do you,” Bucky raised his eyebrows and looked at the ice cream that was slowly dripping around the cone.

“Yeah, of course. Is it a coincidence that you chose chocolate because it is Steve’s favorite ice cream or is it your favorite flavor as well?” Sam asked curiously.

“You got me there. It’s my favorite ice cream flavor, too. So now you know why I had to hide my secret ice cream stash in the freezer whenever Steve came around,” Bucky laughed.

They were quietly eating their ice cream when Bucky stood up all of a sudden and grabbed Sam’s hand. Bucky’s hand was warm, warmer than Sam had imagined. The former quickly pulled him to his feet and Sam felt himself blushing. Hopefully, Bucky didn’t see that.

“Come on, we are going to see the ducks,” Bucky shouted and ran to the lake that was in the middle of the park. Sam just laughed. Sometimes he felt like Bucky was still ten years old and not 28. He followed Bucky and found him a few seconds later, throwing the last crumbs of his ice cream cone to a little duck family that was quickly picking up the crumbs.

“You are such a child, Bucky.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes and tried to pet the small ducklings. However, the mother duck was not having that and tried to pick at Bucky’s hand. It even started to flutter towards him. Bucky let out a scream and started running to Sam. “Help me, ahh. It’s trying to kill me. Sorry duck, I was only trying to pet your babies,” Bucky exclaimed. “I wouldn’t hurt them.”

Sam was trying his hardest not to burst out laughing. He noticed a couple of other people around him who were watching them. A few seconds later he just gave up and completely doubled over. He was wheezing and already feeling the weird looks he got from the people surrounding him. Tears started to form in his eyes and that was the first time the last few days that the reason for them was not him being sad.

Bucky finally came over to him, laughing as well. “They were so cute, I just had to,” he exclaimed, and before Bucky was able to say another word, Sam grabbed him by his hips and pulled him over to him. He let his hand sit on Bucky’ waist for a short moment until he realized that Bucky was staring at him, especially at his hand. Sam felt blood rushing into his head. He probably looked absolutely flustered and he noticed that Bucky was blushing.

“Anyways. They were cute and Steve loves, I mean loved, ducks,” Bucky said quietly.

After hearing Steve’s name Sam felt guilty again. Following that awkward incident, they quickly went back to Bucky’s apartment and never mentioned it again.

Ever since Sam had left to go back to his flat in Chicago, Bucky felt lonely. He had never felt that way when Steve had left him to go back to Chicago or when his other friends visited. It might have to do with the fact that Sam was the first person who really calmed him down after Steve’s death. His parents and his sister tried their best, but they were still trying to process the fact that Steve was gone. Sam’s reaction to Steve’s death was different. It almost made Bucky a little angry, because how could he not have cared about Steve, but then he remembered that Sam hadn’t know him as well as the Barnes family. Sam might have tried to pull himself together because he had not wanted to cry in front of Bucky. The last couple of days Bucky had gotten to spend with Sam he understood what Steve had loved about him. Sam was kind, made him laugh and the best thing, he was honest to Bucky.

Bucky’s last relationships had not been exactly what he pictured. The last girl he had dated had been someone named Natasha, who he’d met through work. She was nice and pretty, but after a few months she’d told Bucky that she did not see a future with him. He wasn’t sad that their relationship ended, he was sad because it meant he was alone again.

Right then, he was sitting on his couch, watching his favorite tv show. Suits. The first time he’d watched that show he couldn’t decide whether he would rather sleep with Donna or Harvey. Seeing that he was a lawyer himself, he knew the series was nowhere close to being realistic, but he still liked it. Practicing law wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured it in college but still, it made him happy.

His thoughts were interrupted by his phone ringing. He quickly grabbed it and smiled once he saw the name displayed on the screen. Sam Wilson.

“Hey, Bucky,” Sam greeted him.

Bucky felt his chest flutter but tried to ignore it. Sam was his forbidden fruit, but he already felt like Eva ogling the red apple in garden Eden. Apparently, he and Eva would share going to hell.

“Hey Sam,” Bucky answered quietly.

There as an awkward pause.

“Something wrong?”

“Well, I don’t know if this might seem weird to you but yesterday, I was finally able to enter Steve’s room and was trying to sort his stuff and because he doesn’t have any family left, I thought you might want some of this and- “

Bucky interrupted him. “Sam, you are rambling. What do you want me to do?” he asked.

“I was just wondering if you might want to fly to Chicago and look through Steve’s stuff. Like, I know he would have wanted you to get most of his things. I understand if you are occupied with work but honestly, I don’t know if I’m ready to get rid of his things. It feels like I’m starting to forget him. I’m already starting to forget what his voice sounded like, and it’s starting to drive me crazy. And I know it’s a lot I’m asking of you and it is a shitty thing of me to cry to you about it, since he was your-,” Sam sniffed and before he could continue Bucky interrupted him again.

“To quote you, Sam: If you dare apologize for having feelings, I might throw you into your neighbor’s pool. Even though I don’t know if your neighbor owns a pool, but you get what I’m trying to say here,” Bucky could hear Sam laughing, although his voice was still a bit cracked. He sounded like he had been crying for at least a couple of minutes. Then again, Bucky would probably react the same if he’d had to sit down and sort out Steve’s stuff.

“I’m flying out to you tomorrow,” Bucky stated. He could hear Sam breathing. “You don’t have to if you have work to do or something else, I can get Wanda or Pietro to help me,” Sam said, guilt lacing his tone.

“No, you’re right. I should have thought about that earlier. It must be hard for you. Of course, I can help,” he assured Sam.

“Thanks, Bucky,” Sam replied.

“You’re welcome, Sam. I’ll text you my flight information.”

However, he did not mention that he was excited to meet Sam again. He was sure that the last thing Sam was worried about right now was finding a new boyfriend, and Bucky still felt guilty about even thinking that he had a chance with Sam. Sam had been Steve’s boyfriend and was grieving, and Bucky was selfish for thinking that Sam could like him that way.

Immediately after the phone call ended, he grabbed his laptop and started looking for flights straight to Chicago. Since it was on such short notice, the flights were way more expensive than usually, but he didn’t care about that.

The day he arrived in Chicago was rainy. The weather was characteristically bad, so he was glad that Sam had offered to pick him up from the airport. Once Bucky had grabbed his suitcase, he made his way into the arrival hall of the airport. He already noticed Sam from far away, due to the fact that the other man was waving like crazy at Bucky, which made him laugh. Sam was such a dork.

“Hey, I’m glad you made it. Thanks again,” Sam tried to carry Bucky’s suitcase, but Bucky pushed his hand away.

“I got it, thanks,” he still thought it was cute.

They walked outside to Sam’s car, talking about random things. Bucky noticed that Sam didn’t mention Steve’s name. He was probably waiting until they got home, and Bucky did not want to upset Sam any further, so he did not mention the deceased’s name as well.

Bucky could count on one hand how many times he had been to Steve’s and Sam’s flat. It was still weird to him that they did not sleep in the same bed. But after knowing Steve Rogers for nearly two decades, it was impossible for even him to sleep next to Steve. Whenever the latter had slept, he’d snored so loud that Bucky had been sure the neighbors next door could still hear him, so he did not blame Sam for having wanted a separate bed.

The flat had not changed much since the last time Bucky had been there. The walls were decorated with a lot of artwork - most of it done by Steve. While Bucky was not able to draw a straight line, Steve had been able to draw the most amazing things with only a pencil.

“You can keep some of them, if you want,” Sam commented and squeezed his shoulder.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but you should keep most of them. They’re in your home, anyway, so why should I take ‘em with me.”

Sam only stared at him in confusion.

“I guess I’ll move into a new flat once we are done here. It’s too big for me anyway. Might as well get another roommate,” Sam stated.

“Roommate?” Bucky looked at him “Aren’t you a bit old to live with a roommate?” he asked, seemingly confused. He knew Sam was nearly 3 years older than him and Steve.

“I am what?” Sam raised his eyebrow.

Immediately, Bucky felt bad. He was such an idiot. Sam had been living with his boyfriend for the last 3 years, of course he was going to feel lonely living on his own. “Nothing. Forget it. So, where did you put Steve’s stuff?”

Sam pointed to a couple of boxes that were lying in one corner of the living room. “I got rid of most of his clothes and furniture, apart from some t-shirts and hoodies. Thought you might want to keep some of these.”

Bucky’s eyes wandered to a green hoodie that was crumpled up in one of the boxes. He quickly snatched it and pressed it against his chest. It was the hoodie Steve had worn the day they had gotten their college acceptance. It even smelled a bit like Steve.

“You should keep it,” Sam mumbled, “I have so much of his stuff, and you have nothing and…” His voice started to crack.

Bucky felt helpless. He was trying to think of something that would make Sam feel better. The only thing he could think about right then was a hug.

He quickly wrapped his arms around Sam and pressed his chest against the other man’s. He could feel Sam’s breathing and heartbeat.

Sam started to calm down, still pressed against Bucky. They stayed like this for a moment until Bucky started to feel something. ‘Oh god’, he panicked. Not now. It had been a few months since he’d last had any physical contact and it was starting to show. Sam clinging and moving against him did not make things better. Bucky felt his face heating up and tried to think of a way to break out of the hug.

“You, okay?” Sam asked and quickly ended their hug. He’d probably felt something was wrong.

Bucky was still red and quickly looked away. ‘So much to not thinking about Sam in that way,’ he thought to himself.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” Bucky just knew Sam had felt it. However, he was glad that he didn’t mention it. It was already awkward enough for him. They continued to look through Steve’s stuff and neither of them said another word.

“I am glad you are here, Bucky,” Sam whispered after a while.

“I am really glad you called me,” Bucky responded. It was going to be okay.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Sam asked and started zapping through Netflix. It had been a couple of months since Bucky’s visit to Chicago, but he and Sam had been in contact with each other nearly every day. Bucky had started to slowly crawl into Sam’s daily life, but he did not mind it. Quite the opposite. The more he talked to Bucky, the more Sam caught himself thinking about the way Bucky smiled and laughed. The way Bucky’s eyes lit up when he talked about his work or his cat, Alpine. The cat was cute. Sam remembered Bucky finding her near the trash cans in the backyard of his flat and the moment he’d seen her he’d known that she was supposed to stay with him. Just like Steve and Bucky used to do, the two chose at least one time a month to meet up with each other. That month it was Sam’s turn to visit Bucky.

Right now, they were sitting on Bucky’s couch. Bucky was on his phone trying to figure out what he wanted to eat for dinner. Alpine was cuddled against Bucky’s chest.

“I don’t care. Chose something you want to watch,” Bucky answered Sam’s question. He stroked Alpine’s white fur. The cat snuggled closer to Bucky and purred. Sam could not blame her. Bucky’s chest did look comfortable.

“Okay, then.”

It still took Sam more than fifteen minutes to find a series he wanted to watch.

“Have you decided on what you want to eat?” he asked Bucky, who was still scrolling through his phone.

“No,” Bucky let out a groan. “They have so many options. How am I supposed to choose? I want fries and sushi and pizza at the same time,” he exclaimed.

Sam laughed. One of the many things he had learned about Bucky in the last couple of months was that Bucky loved food. It was close to being an unhealthy obsession.

“Well, how about we just get something small of everything and share?” Sam offered but Bucky did not seem convinced.

“Sam, I don’t want to share,” he pouted.

“Okay, well, that’s your problem. I already know what I want to eat,” Sam crossed his arms and leaned back against the couch. It was comfortable and probably cost more than Sam’s monthly salary. He had learned that Bucky was a corporate lawyer, which explained how he was able to live so close to Manhattan. It also explained the amounts of money he was able to spend on food. The first few times, Sam had tried to split the bill, but Bucky had always protested. Sam had stopped trying after that. It was sweet of Bucky, and Sam wondered if that was the way Bucky had treated Steve as well. The more he got to know the other man, the more he caught himself falling for him. He knew it was wrong, and that Steve would probably hate him for feeling that way - he even hated himself a little bit for it - but he couldn’t change his feelings. He tried his best not to get too touchy with Bucky, but he failed sometimes.

“I want pizza.”

Sam looked at Bucky. “Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Bucky started to scratch Alpine’s belly, and the cat purred in response.

Sam shrugged his shoulders. He knew that Bucky would probably change his opinion once the pizza was here, but he still called the pizza place and ordered.

45 minutes later the doorbell rang, and Bucky stood up to answer. Alpine looked up in confusion once she noticed that Bucky was gone and started walking towards Sam. After looking at him, she decided he was worthy and cuddled against his chest. Sam patted her.

“Oh, this is so cute, I need to take a picture,” Bucky had returned with two large pizza cartons and a smaller one containing some garlic bread. Sam smiled, but the second Bucky got his phone out, Alpine jumped up and quickly walked away.

“Stupid cat,” Bucky mumbled. It was almost like she heard him because she turned her head and hissed at him.

“Great, now she’s mad,” Sam sighed.

“She’ll get over it. Here’s your pizza,” Bucky gave him his carton and settled down to eat his own pizza.

“By the way, my sister wants to finally meet you,” Bucky said after a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to finish his pizza and he moved on to the garlic bread.

“I can’t wait to meet her. Steve used to talk about her all the time. He really loved her like a little sister.” Sam didn’t know Becca personally, apart from that short meeting at Steve’s funeral, but back then hadn’t really been the right time to get to know her better.

“Yeah, he really did. She is our little sister,” Bucky mumbled, a sad undertone present in his voice. Sam wasn’t going to lie, he thought about Steve a lot, but whenever he visited Bucky or got a message from him, the thought of his best friend was pushed a little bit further back in his brain. Every time he caught himself doing that, he felt guilty. Guilty for starting to forget the way Steve’s voice sounded, for getting a smaller flat because he couldn’t stand continuing to live in the same flat, he used to live in with Steve and mostly, guilty for slowly starting to fall in love with Bucky Barnes.

He wondered if Bucky sometimes forgot about Steve, too, or if Sam was just a horrible friend. He didn’t have the courage to ask Bucky about it; he did not want to lose the closest thing he had to a best friend since Steve.

They continued to watch the series. After a while, Alpine came back from wherever she had hidden. She settled into the crook of Bucky’s arm and looked into Sam’s eyes. He almost felt caught by her. He did not really like cats; however, he made an exception for Alpine.

Shortly after the movie, Sam noticed that Bucky was snoring. He was leaning against Sam’s shoulder, Alpine still lying on him.

Sam caught himself watching Bucky for a few seconds. He looked so cute and calm and the way he was resting against Sam’s shoulder gave him goosebumps. His skin looked so soft, and Sam had to fight with himself not to touch his cheek. He decided to close his eyes for a few minutes as well.

The next morning, Sam noticed something furry on his nose, tickling him. He sneezed and opened his eyes, only to look at something white. He tried to push Alpine away from his face and started to look around. He remembered falling asleep on Bucky’s couch. He noticed that somehow during the night, Bucky had shifted and was now laying on Sam’s chest. Sam’s arm was wrapped around Bucky’s torso. He tried to shift without moving too much but failed. He looked at Bucky’s face and noticed that the younger man was still sleeping peacefully.

‘Great and now I have to pee’, Sam thought. He ran his other hand through Bucky’s hair. It was as soft as he imagined. A few minutes later Bucky’s eyes fluttered, and a pair of blue eyes started into Sam’s.

“Morning,” Bucky said with a rusty voice. It took him a while to notice that he was lying nearly on top of Sam.

“Have you slept well?” Sam asked.

Bucky nodded and stared at him so intensely that Sam briefly thought he was going to kiss him. However, Bucky quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“So anyways. Do you want some breakfast?” Bucky changed the topic, already half up off the couch and on his way into the kitchen.

Sam stared after at him. ‘What the hell was that’, he thought but shook it off and quickly followed Bucky into the kitchen.

Today was the 6th month anniversary of Steve’s death and Bucky’s day had already started out shitty. Firstly, he’d nearly missed his alarm clock, then his client had stood him up for lunch and finally he’d managed to spill his coffee all over himself and had to ask his assistant to get another one. He was currently sitting in his office, staring at the framed picture in front of him.

It was a picture of him and Steve when they were younger. He still could not believe that Steve had been gone for 6 months. It felt like yesterday to him how he’d called Steve nearly every evening to talk to him about his boring day.

The only thing he was looking forward today was that he was finally going to see Sam again. Thinking about the dark-haired man made him smile. The last time Sam had visited had been kind of weird. That one morning, they’d woken up all cuddly and Bucky had nearly kissed Sam. Thank God, he’d caught himself in the last moment. Sam would have probably thought Bucky was a horrible friend, and Bucky refused to lose his newest friend to something as stupid as a little crush.

He probably felt like that because the last time he’d had sex had been back when Steve had still been alive. Yeah, that was the most reasonable explanation as to why he could not stop thinking about Sam’s lips and his toned arms. He quickly looked back at the file in front of him. It was a case about a holding company that was trying to sell one of their firms they owned. It was boring, to say the least. He tried to get it done as quickly as possible.

Finally, a few hours later, Bucky was able to close the file. He looked at his clock; it was 20 past 7pm already. His eyes widened. He was supposed to meet up with Sam at 7pm at his flat. He pulled out his phone and noticed that he had a missed call from Sam and a few text messages.

Barnes, you there?

Buckyyy

Where are you, man?

Okay, I am just going to let myself in, I know where your spare key is 😊.

Sam had added a bunch of random emojis, and Bucky smiled. Of course, he knew where Bucky’s spare key was.

Bucky packed up his things, bid goodbye to the colleagues who were still in the building and made his way home. He was pretty sure Sam was comfortable enough in the flat to entertain himself, so Bucky ended up picking some food on the way. Thai. It was Steve’s favorite food.

As he opened his apartment door, his hands full of takeaway boxes, he could already hear the TV. Once he entered the living room, he could see Sam lying on his couch. Alpine was sitting on his lap and Sam was cuddling her. It was adorable.

“Hello, person who does not live in my home,” Bucky said and walked over to place the food on his couch table.

“Well, I decided I do now.”, Sam exclaimed. “Your cat likes me better anyways. Isn’t that right, Alpine?”

The cat snuggled closer to Sam.

“Traitor,” Bucky whispered. But he was glad that Sam liked her as much as he himself did. They were a package deal.

“What is that?” Sam pointed to the food boxes.

“Food, duh. Thai. It was Steve’s favorite,” Bucky said. After mentioning Steve’s name, he noticed how Sam tensed up. Bucky decided not to comment on it; instead, he sat down next to Sam and started opening the food boxes.

“Fuck,” Sam whispered and ran his hands over his face. “I can’t believe it’s been 6 months already. How has he been dead for 6 months? I feel like it was yesterday that I talked to him, we were planning a trip to California this summer. We wanted to take my nephews to Disneyland. There were so excited and devastated when I told them we could not go anymore and cried when I told them why.”

Bucky felt his heart aching. He knew Sam had nephews.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Bucky said and put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance.

“I still cannot process that he really is gone. Some days I forget that he is dead, just for a short moment, and then reality hits and I feel like I just want to fold myself into a corner and cry. He was my best friend.” Bucky looked down and noticed that Sam had started to sniff.

“You know, I still get nightmares about the day you called me,” Sam admitted.

Bucky saw a single tear roll down Sam’s face and he quickly wiped it away with his sleeve. The man next to him looked so small and vulnerable. Bucky wanted to hug him so badly.

“I always wonder what would have happened if I had been with him. I should have made sure he’d take his inhaler with him. God, I am so sorry, Bucky,” he started to sob.

Bucky froze. It was the first time Sam cried in front of him. He felt helpless, the only thing that he could do was try to comfort him.

“It’s okay, Sam. It was not your fault. Steve was an adult, he should have known better than to not carry his inhaler with him, even if he hadn’t had an asthma attack in more than 10 years,” Bucky tried to calm him down, but that made Sam even more upset.

“I was supposed to look after him, you trusted me to look after him-“Sam was starting to hyperventilate.

“You did, Sam. You did. It was not your fault, and it wasn’t mine either. It was just a stupid, terrible thing to happen, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Please stop trying to blame yourself for his death,” Bucky shouted. Apparently, this was the only way Sam understood he was not responsible for what had happened to Steve.

Sam stared at him, not being used to Bucky raising his voice.

“I’m serious, Sam,” Bucky said again.

“You are way too good; do you know that Bucky?” Sam said with a weird mixture of laughing and crying. “God, I still miss him so much.”

“I miss him too, Sam, but Steve would have wanted you to move on with your life. He would have wanted us to live the best life we could possibly have. And I know that sounds harsh but please don’t blame yourself.” Bucky wasn’t sure if his words were what Sam wanted to hear. He would either think that Bucky was a total asshole for thinking that he should move on this quickly after his boyfriend died or he would agree with him.

“Yeah, you are right. He would have wanted me to move on. He would have wanted that for you as well, Bucky,” Sam answered quietly, and the next thing Bucky knew he was pressing his lips against Sam’s.

+ 1

Sam felt Bucky’s lips pressing against his own. At first, he was shocked that Bucky really was kissing him but after a few seconds he returned the kiss. He pulled Bucky closer to himself and started moving his hand to the other man’s neck. Bucky groaned and started to move closer to Sam.

It was everything Sam had dreamed about for the last couple of months and if Bucky was ready to move on from Steve, Sam was ready for that as well. They continued to kiss for a while, none of them saying a word. The sound of them kissing was the only one heard in the apartment. Sam was already starting to slip his hand under Bucky’s t-shirt when Bucky suddenly pulled away from him.

“No, no, no-,” he exclaimed and looked at Sam, both their lips slightly swollen from their kissing.

“This is wrong,” Bucky whined.

Sam could almost hear the crack his heart made the second Bucky stopped their kiss. Of course, he thought it was wrong. Steve and Bucky had been together for more than 5 years or maybe even more, obviously, Bucky wouldn’t move on so quickly.

“God I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Sam,” Bucky looked at him with blue eyes and Sam wanted to kiss him again, so badly.

“Sorry, I just thought that… you’re right, this is not fair to Steve. God, I’m a horrible person, Steve would hate me,” Sam whispered ashamed.

“No, I’m the bad friend. I kissed you. I kissed my dead best friend’s boyfriend. I’m pretty sure they have a special place in hell for people like me,” Bucky let out a groan.

Sam looked at him confused. What the hell was he talking about?

“I was his what now?” he asked and stared at Bucky.

“Boyfriend, partner, significant other, I don’t know what you called each other, but I’m pretty sure that if there was one rule for friendship it’s that you don’t make a move on your friends’ partners,” Bucky gestured between Sam and him.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” he was out of breath and pushed his hair out his face. His cheeks were starting to get redder.

“No,” was the only thing Sam said at first. “You’re his boyfriend”, he continued and pointed at Bucky.

“Huh?” Bucky replied, still confused.

“No, you are. He always talked about you and he visited you nearly every week and-,” Sam was starting to ramble, but Bucky interrupted him.

“You two were living together?! I thought you were his boyfriend, what was I supposed to think? I didn’t assume two grown men would be living together as roommates,” he exclaimed.

“Hey,” Sam felt offended.

Bucky quickly noticed the way Sam looked at him. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…I thought you were his boyfriend.”

“No, I’m his best friend,” Sam answered, this time a bit louder. What the hell was going on?

“No, I’m his best friend,” Bucky mumbled, still trying to process what had happened in the last few moments.

“Wait. So you’re not in a relationship with Steven Grant Rogers, and you never were?” Sam asked slowly.

“No,” Bucky answered, though it sounded more like a question. “I mean we used to when we were teenagers, but that’s nearly a decade ago.”

“And you’re not in a relationship with Steve either, right?” Bucky added and looked into Sam’s eyes.

“Nope, and I never was.”

There was an awkward silence between them until Bucky asked Sam, “So, the last few months you thought I was grieving my boyfriend, while I thought you were grieving your boyfriend?”

It was the thing that made Sam crack. He started to laugh. Loudly. He even started wheezing, tears forming in his eyes.

“I cannot believe this. That little shit,” Sam cried out. “He never corrected me when I referred to you as his boyfriend. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

Finally, Bucky busted out laughing as well. “We’re so stupid. We could have just asked each other but instead we just assumed that the other was the grieving widower.”

Sam could feel the way Bucky was staring at him, trying to figure out what to say next. Sam, on the other hand, knew already what he was going to do next. He got closer to Bucky and kissed him again.

This time Bucky didn’t hesitate and pushed himself against Sam. “You know,” he mumbled between kisses, “We could have done that way earlier.” The complaint was evident in his tone.

“Better late than never,” was the only thing Sam answered before he kissed Bucky once more.

And somewhere out there, Steve was looking at them, smiling to himself and thinking how much of an idiot both of his best friends were.

Feel free to leave any comments or any suggestions for improvement!

Thank you so much for reading my first ever English written One Shot! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. I'm really looking forward to writing more Marvel fanfiction, especially Stucky and Sambucky.

much love, your local stucky shipper xx

***

#angst with a happy ending #angst #major character death #grief #miscommunication #misunderstandings #sambucky #mutual pining #fluff #happy ending #steve rogers #fatws bucky #bucky barnes #samwilson #captain america #thefalconandthewintersoldier #tfatws

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storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

he’ll never see this ~ noen eubanks

word count: 1994

request?: yes!

“Hi can you do one imagine of Noen Eubanks, like, the reader is a tik toker or influencer something like that and they have a crush on each other,and they Fans are Shipping them.

Thanksss💖🖤💖🖤💖”

description: in which she admits her feelings for a fellow creator during a stream thinking he’ll never see it

pairing: noen eubanks x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The sound of a new donation message coming in pulled you away from your game for a split second. The automated voice read the message out to you: “are there any influencers that you are totally crushing on right now?”

You chuckle to yourself as you turn back to your game. “You guys really wanna start something, huh? You realize this will be trending within an hour if I say anything.”

You glanced over at your chat to see they were begging you to tell them who your influencer crush was. You had mentioned a few times that there was a fellow influencer that you had a crush on, but you refused to admit who it was (for obvious reasons). Your viewers, however, were determined to find out who this mystery man you liked was.

“We promise we’ll keep it a secret,” you read, managing to catch one message before it disappeared into the void of never ending messages. “I don’t believe you guys at all.”

You laughed as you watched the chat blow up again. You finally paused your game and made your face cam bigger for the audience. “Okay, you know what? Fuck it, there’s no way he’ll ever see this and I’m not big enough of a content creator to have articles written about me. My influencer crush is Noen Eubanks. If you don’t know who he is, look him up on TikTok and you’ll totally understand why I have such a crush on him.”

Your chat went absolutely wild at this. You went back to playing your game, smiling to yourself as you did so. It felt nice to get that off of your chest, and you knew you were about to get a kick out of your fan’s reactions to this.

Like you said, you had no fear of Noen actually finding out what you said. You had a bit of a following, but it was nothing too big. Just enough that you could be classified as “Internet famous”, but not enough that admitting you had a crush on someone else who had a much bigger following than you would be a big deal.

Or so you thought.

After your stream, you decided to go right to bed. You were feeling tired and had to get up early to edit the video you were planning on uploading. You weren’t awake to witness the internet absolutely explode over your comment, but lucky for you it was still happening when you woke up the next morning.

When you checked your phone for the first time that day, you noticed that your notifications had blown up over night. You figured it was just your fans teasing you over your crush on Noen, which it partly was, but you noticed that it was also YouTube news Twitter accounts and internet tabloid accounts tagging you in their articles about your crush on Noen.

“Oh no,” you said, your eyes widening as you read through article after article, tweet after tweet.

Before you knew it, you had spent nearly two hours sat on the floor, reading through everything that mentioned both you and Noen. All the articles were the same: an brief introduction to you and your small Twitch/YouTube following, talking about you admitting to having a crush on Noen the night before, and asking whether the reading audience believed that you and Noen would make a good couple or not.

The reactions from fans were as entertaining as you figured - with many of your fans trying to come up with ship names for you and Noen and tagging him in clips from your stream - but then there were the less than entertaining reactions. Many people, whether they were Noen’s fans or just people who wanted to hate on you you weren’t sure, were saying you had mentioned Noen’s name just for clout, or that your “crush” was nothing more than an infatuation over his looks.

It wasn’t until your phone rang that you were finally pulled out of your trance and back to the real world. Your friend’s name lit up on your screen, and it took you a moment to collect yourself before you answered.

“(Y/N), have you been online yet today?” she asked.

You sighed and nodded, then remembered she couldn’t actually see you. “Yeah, I’ve been scrolling for the past two hours on Twitter.”

“You haven’t checked your Twitch page, or YouTube account yet?”

Your eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “No? Should I?”

“You definitely should.”

You put her on speaker and switched to your Twitch app. You were shocked to see that you had skyrocketed in subs overnight, same with your YouTube page. You had gained a solid ten thousand subscribers on both platforms, and it was still rising by the second.

“So this situation has gained me more subscribers, who cares? That’s not why I talked about Noen on stream,” you said.

“Oh no, honey. It isn’t just the situation that has given you new subscribers. Go check Noen’s Twitter.”

You knew what she was implying, but you had to see it for your own eyes. You immediately opened the Twitter app again and typed in Noen’s name. You were brought to his Twitter page, where his most recent tweet was a link to the clip from your stream along with a caption that read, “When your internet crush calls you *their* internet crush”.

You covered your mouth in shock. You were sure you were about to start screaming, but you were so speechless that you couldn’t force any sounds from your mouth.

“I’m assuming by the silence that you’ve seen it,” your friend said after a prolonged moment of silence.

“D-Did he just c-call me his...?” you trailed off, unable to finish your sentence.

“He did,” your friend confirmed. “And both of your fans are going wild. They’ve already come up with a ship name for you, which isn’t the most clever name but I admire their spirit.”

You could barley hear what your friend was saying. You were still staring at the tweet in disbelief. Your mind could barley comprehend anything else besides the fact that your online crush thought the same as you. You were trying to tell yourself not to get too worked up, as it was most likely that nothing was going to come from this besides some gossip for a week or more, but your heart was still racing with excitement.

You gasped as a notification popped up on the top of your screen: “@/eubanks_noen is requesting to message you”.

“He’s trying to DM me,” you whisper, so silently that you could barley hear yourself.”

“What?”

“He’s trying to DM me! On Twitter!”

“What are you doing talking to me?! Go answer his DM!”

You were too focused to laugh as you hung up the phone and went into your DMs. The familiar profile picture that you saw almost every day on your timeline was the first thing you saw in your message requests. Your whole body was shaking so much that you could barley see the screen as you pressed to open it.

“hi :)”

It was a very simple message, but it was enough to make your heart race even more.

You were debating on messaging back, wondering if maybe this was a fake account or something. But you knew there was only one way to find out for sure, so you took a deep breath and responded.

“hi! :)”

His response came near seconds later: “so...we’re the internet’s hottest power couple, huh?”

You chuckled to yourself. “i guess we are. sorry if i ruined your mentions last night. i didn’t think it would blow up the way it has. i’m not all that famous online.”

“are you kidding me? you’re like one of the best twitch streamers. i’ve watched every single one of your streams, including last night’s”

You felt your face heating up, but a slight groan of embarrassment came from your lips. You were thinking of all the embarrassing things you had said and done on stream, and now wished you could just melt into the floor or erase the entire internet.

“oh that’s embarrassing. i’d say i’m not that awkward and dumb in real life, but i’m actually more so”

“i wouldn’t say you’re awkward or dumb at all. i think you’re adorable”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed to no one in particular. If your face got any hotter, it would be on fire.

“you really know how to talk to a girl”

“i really don’t, but i’m glad you’re enjoying my attempts to flirt”

“so you’re flirting? never would’ve known”

“i know, it’s hard to tell. i’m trying to be subtle”

You continued to message Noen for a while. It felt so natural, as if you weren’t talking to someone you had been crushing on for about a year now. You were extremely glad you weren’t coming off as awkward as you normally felt.

Finally, after having been sat on the floor for a good three hours, your back began to ache and your stomach was growling so loudly in attempts to get your attention. You realized then that you had put getting breakfast on hold in order to fall deep into the hole of internet gossip that had surrounded you overnight.

“love talking to you and all, but i’m gonna have to go for a little bit. i’ve been sat on the floor basically since i woke up and i haven’t eaten yet today so my stomach is very upset with me”

“why are you on the floor? 😂”

“when i’m stressed i tend to sit down no matter where i am, and i was very stressed to see my name plastered all over social media this morning”

“why were you stressed over that?”

“it’s not something i’m exactly used to. like i said, i’m not overly famous online. i just have a small following. i’m not someone who has an article written about every little thing she says. also like i said, i didn’t expect you to see me admit that i have a crush on you last night, so i was so worried about what your reaction was going to be”

“i guess i can understand that. i haven’t had a lot written about me. i’m not a big tiktoker like some of my friends are, but i guess that’s a blessing”

You started to type another message, but paused when you saw the three dots from Noen indicating that he was typing something else.

“for what it’s worth, i’ve had a internet crush on you since you first started streaming”

Your jaw dropped at this. You had started streaming months before you even knew about Noen, which meant he had known about you before you knew about him. Just when you thought this day couldn’t get any better.

“wow! that’s quite a while. you must be one of my first subscribers then”

“i’m up there i think. i’ll wear that badge with pride”

The three dots again. You waited anxiously to see what he was about to say.

“i liked getting to talk to you today, though. maybe we could talk offline sometime, like through text or phone call. maybe meet in person eventually”

Your smile was so wide that it hurt your cheeks. “yeah, i’d really like that”

You exchanged phone numbers and added his to your contacts. You finally pulled yourself off the floor and started making a super late breakfast while also starting to edit your next video since you had also gotten such a late start on that.

You were putting your food on a plate when your phone chimed, indicating a new text message.

“btw, it’s nice to finally get to meet you internet crush :)”

“it’s nice to get to meet you, too, internet crush”

You sat at the table, your heart feeling warm. And to think, it all came true thanks to one nosy donation.

Not sure how much I like this imagine, but I hope you enjoyed anyways!

#noen eubanks #noen eubanks imagine #noen eubanks x reader #imagine #one shot #request #tiktok #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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portsidewonderland · 3 years

Text

Okay, I’ve been wanting to write this for the last three weeks, but I’m finally - finally - sitting down to do just that.

First, I’m a Rogan shipper. I’ve been a Rogan shipper for the last 20 years, but in that time, I’ve grown, I’ve experienced my own sense of love, and I’m a writer so I’d like to think I’m familiar with structure, characterization, and the like.

Second, I’m focused on the film franchise, strictly speaking. Just wanted to make sure that is clear.

Having said that, when I discuss how utterly wrong the X-Men franchise is, I’m talking about from a story standpoint. When I speak of Logan and Rogue, if that ship isn’t your jam, fine, but the points I make still stand.

Finally, spoiler alert for all of the movies.

Okay, I think we’re ready to jump in.

1. After the first movie, everyone forgot the heart of what made the first movie so special: Wolverine & Rogue

I don’t necessarily mean together. I mean, the movie focused primarily on Logan’s story and Rogue’s story. It was told through THEIR POV. This is important because, essentially, we’re asked to connect with these two characters AND WE DO.

The dialogue, the acting, and their stories (which reflect each other’s as well as stand on their own) draw us in and we are hooked.

Even the critics thought some of the best scenes are the ones Logan and Marie share together. Multiple critics discuss chemistry, how they add to the scene, etc.

Regardless of whether you ship them or not, there’s a compelling story between the two. This vulnerable, slip of a girl is the most powerful X-men out there (or one of) and this growly, fierce angry, broken man who’s been alone for so long that out of everyone he’s met and seen, THIS girl brings him to his knees.

And it’s because she isn’t scared of him.

Even after watching him beat the shit out of his opponent, even after seeing the claws threaten humans and slice through a barrel of a gun, she still thinks, I can trust him.

And when he catches her in his trailer, she STILL isn’t afraid of him. She gives him lip. She calls him out on his shit.

That’s how she manages to slide through the cracks.

And that is BEAUTIFUL.

I’m not here to talk about the performances, but Jesus Christ, I love this scene so damn much. The chemistry RADIATES. The glances, the confusion, the curiosity, and the attraction. (Sorry not sorry, it’s there on both parts, I’ll die on this hill.)

Anyway, the first movie is about how this girl brings the savage, feral Wolverine to his knees. How she gets him to STAY. How she gets him to open up.

Yes, Logan wants info on his past, but he’s staying for Marie. We all know it.

When he threatens Jean after first waking up, Jean is scared. And for good reason, obviously.

But Logan STABS Marie with his claws, and guess what? She’s still not scared of him. She’s worried about him.

This is THEIR story.

Do you really think Wolverine is going to go running around in leather for anyone but Marie? Yeah, I don’t think so. I mean, he literally STABS HIMSELF IN THE CHEST to free himself and get to her.

He PROMISES her that he’d take care of her. Do you think Wolverine bullshits? Hell no, he doesn’t.

And that’s why....

2. The whole Jean thing was just not great.

Okay, can I tell you something?

I don’t see Jean as a sympathetic character. She’s engaged to Scott and suddenly, Wolverine comes strolling in and she can’t get her shit together?

I mean, okay, I get it, let’s be real.

But Scott isn’t a bad guy. He nay be a dick, but he treats Jean well. Because we’re not in Cyclops’ or Jean’s head, we as the audience don’t see any marital/romantic issues between them. Hence, when Jean gets flustered by Wolverine to the point where she lets him goad her into reading his mind, she knows what she’s doing. She likes it. She likes Logan’s attention.

Not because she likes Logan.

(I read this fic where basically Jean tells Logan he could have been anybody, and I thought that was so perfect)

But because he’s giving her attention. He makes her feel desired.

And she leads him on.

Right there, I don’t like her, and I think that’s why a lot of Rogan shippers don’t like her is that she has no problem toying not only with Logan’s feelings, but with Scott’s.

But that’s not even the worst part of this.

At the end, when Logan asks for Marie and Jean makes her comment, she adds, “I think she’s taken with you.”

Like - why would Jean say that? Why mention it?

That’s petty ass shit right there.

To me, what she’s trying to do is align herself with Logan as adults and belittle Marie for having a little crush on him. Like it’s so juvenile.

And the worst line of this whole movie is when he says, “Tell her my heart belongs to another.”

Want to know why?

Because the writers/director haven’t SHOWN this. This line is forced here to TELL the audience that we should be shipping Jean and Wolverine. It’s sloppy writing. It tells me they think the audience are idiots.

Really, Logan?

Jean has your heart even though you completely go against Tall Dark and Feral to pick up a girl, then stay at the school with her, leave a fucking mansion to bring her back, make a promise to her, go after her after she’s kidnapped, stab yourself in the chest, fling yourself on the Statue of Liberty AND RISK YOUR FUCKING LIFE TO SAVE ROGUE’S JUST BY TOUCHING HER and you want me to believe your heart belongs to Jean????

Please, tell me, why the FUCK should I buy that?

Oh, because they’re the same age?

LOL no.

Anyway, I didn’t like Jean’s characterization because of that. Because she’s leading people on, because she needs to put down Marie’s feelings after her ordeal because of her insecurity, because of it all.

Which is why I’ll never ship them together.

Logan is at his worst when he’s around Jean.

Anyway.

And Jean is just the worst.

3. They took something meaningful and they fucked it

Logan promises to take care of Rogue. Do you know important that is for both of them as individuals and their relationship?

Rogue only goes back because of Logan. Not for anyone else. Not even Bobby. She comes back, she stays, for Logan.

Where do we see that after the second movie?

He’s so goddamned focused on Jean, on everything about her, that he barely notices that Rogue is ready to get the cure.

I’m GLAD they got a scene together. Because of their looks.

I am.

But shit.

It’s like Logan has completely forgotten all about Rogue, and I’m sorry, but after that first movie, I just can’t buy that.

I can buy that he leaves to check out his past. The dog tag scene is one of my absolute favorites. That’s perfect. Makes sense.

(Also, side note: Fic is so beautiful about this but he isn’t afraid to touch her. Like, he doesn’t HAVE to play with her hair but he does. It’s playful and flirty. It IS. He could have just said he liked her hair BUT HE HAD TO TOUCH IT. And this is HUGE for Rogue because honestly SHE’S afraid to touch and of herself but if Logan isn’t afraid, she stops being afraid - if that makes sense.)

But seriously? He’s not calling the mansion, not writing to Rogue?

I don’t believe that for one second.

This is why I will never watch The Wolverine after that first time (I refuse especially after the director said he was contemplating adding Rogue at the end and didn’t and FUCK EVERYTHING.) because he just leaves because he’s upset about fucking JEAN

I’m sorry but the Wolverine isn’t ABOUT Jean.

If that was the case, we should have had point of views between Logan and Jean in the first movie, not Rogue.

We should have SEEN their development, but we didn’t.

We’re TOLD it.

I’m sorry, but how do you want me to believe that the big bad Wolverine runs off to Japan because he’s sad about Jean? Like, so he’s just going to leave Rogue alone with all of those threats? Are you fucking kidding me?

Show them keeping in touch or SOMETHING. You can’t expect me to see such a huge transformation arc in Logan in the first movie that just gets shit on in every other movie (besides the second). Because that makes Wolverine look like a big, gigantic ASSHOLE and I get that he’s supposed to be that way, but NOT with Rogue.

Which is why Days of Future Past pisses me off as much of the rest them (I’m only discussing the Rogue Cut because I refuse to acknowledge that Bryan Singer - who gave us the first movies - regulated Rogue to such a fucking small cameo.) because Rogue was treated as garbage.

Now, I’m going to assume Logan doesn’t know about what really happened to Rogue because no one told him. But honestly? If he cares about Rogue the way I know he does, he should be asking about her every single time he and Xavier talk.

I love that Logan can sense Rogue when she steps in to help. I love that Rogue refuses to let go of Logan’s mind even in the heart of danger (@bigfrogbestfrogs has an awesome breakdown of these scenes). But I’m appalled at how Kitty is chosen before Rogue? Like, even when coming up with the idea for this movie, why not involve Rogue more?

I refuse to discuss Bobby and her together at the end.

Fuck that.

4. The timelines

Look, I’m not even going to go into the shit that is the timelines.

But honestly?

Fuck everything about that.

I get Singer wanted to retcon X3, but I don’t care.

Based on Apocalypse, the future still sucks so everything failed and then the movie LOGAN takes that shit and amplifies it.

5. LOGAN (the movie)

I’m sorry, but this movie is amazing in some ways and sucks in others.

Want to know why?

Because it takes everything about what made the first movie great and emphasized it.

Laura is too young to be a love interest, so clearly, it’s paternal, and I’m here for it.

But there are so many parallels between logan and Laura and Logan and Rogue that for Logan not to say anything or feel anything in a way tgat tells the audience he’s feeling something just boggles my mind.

Even if he carried HER picture or played with the dog tags and thought of her, something that shows the audience he remembers her, dammit, and she MEANT something to him.

But FUCK how could he NOT?

And that’s why the scene where he’s reading that comic book and he sees himself saving Rogue is so poignant.

Because his gaze lingers.

I mean, obviously I’m assuming she’s dead (which is bullshit but whatever). But still.

And then when he’s dying and Laura is holding his hands and you get that prophecy of him dying with his heart in his hand and I loved how they paired it with the Logan and Rogue song. I loved that callback.

And if the films in between them weren’t such shit, it would be enough.

But it’s not enough for me.

There was so much potential and everything got shit on and it angers me soooo much.

Anyway.

That’s me venting.

Luckily we have so many talented Rogan fic writers and that our ship has survived 20 years.

But still.

What could have been...

Shit.

#logan x marie #wolverine x rogue #Logan x rogue #Wolverine x Marie #Anna Marie #wolverine

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impala666 · 3 years

Text

The One With Mrs. Bing Part One: She’s Back

Here we are. The episode I have been very excited about. Enjoy!

Friends rewrite (masterlist) Last Part (The One With The Monkey Part 4)

Last night you had slept on the couch, you just wanted a little bit of your own space. During the night it had been nice, but now you were laying on your stomach with your face buried in your pillow trying to sleep. While you could hear Chandler making breakfast and drinking coffee before he headed off to work. You had to work yourself at the store in a few hours, but you just didn’t want to get up yet. The only thing that was going to help make your day was that you didn’t have that long of a shift anyway. So you’d work for a few hours and then spend many more hours with your friends just hanging out. Finally, you decided that enough was enough and it was time for you to get up and face your day. So rolling onto your back you let out a loud sigh and pushed the blankets off of you before you managed to make it to your feet. “Good morning, sunshine!” Chandler optimistically greeted you. You stopped at the peninsula of the counter and just glared at him, with your hair a big tangled mess which only made him smile more. “What?” He asked you, taking a sip from his coffee cup.

“You’re just being really cheery and I thought that was weird.” You shrugged it off though and entered the kitchen to get your own cup of coffee.

“Where’s Joey?” Chandler asked.

“Not sure.” You answered honestly. “Probably still sleeping would be my guess.”

“How’s that going? I know you wanted to slow down, is that good?” Your big brother asked, just to check in on you.

“It’s been going great! He’s been surprisingly understanding and incredibly supportive. It’s just nice to have people who support me instead of trying to tear me down.” You smiled as you sat down across from him at the table.

“And you’re always going to from now on. Besides, if anyone knows about leaving home to pursue a career path that doesn’t meet the parents expectations other than you, it would definitely be Joey.” Chandler smiled at you in proudness and supportiveness.

“I know,” you told him with a small smile. For once in your life it was nice to know that if you fell, you had friends there to catch you and help you get back on your feet. You never had that with your parents; you could barely remember your dad before he got a divorce from your mom who was hardly ever home to begin with. All you really ever had was Chandler, at least you had him up until the moment your mom shipped him off to boarding school and then you were basically all alone until now. “And thanks for bringing up the whole disappointed parent thing.” You smiled at him in sarcastic thanks.

“You are welcome,” Chandler chuckled along with your sarcasm. Then the both of you just continued to talk about your daily lives until Chandler had to go to work and you unfortunately had to start getting ready.

********

All of you were finally done with your work day, so all of you went over to Monica and Rachel’s for some dinner all together telling each other about your day, to your surprise Phoebe and Monica had quite an exciting one. They caused a man they thought was attractive to be hit by an ambulance. “There are no conscious men in the city for you two?” Chandler asked, leaning against the couch as he silently judged his friends.

“He doesn’t have anyone,” Monica defended herself and Phoebe.

“Yeah. We feel kind of responsible.” Phoebe agreed.

“I mean,” you started all high pitched, but when you felt Joey put his hand on your waist from behind you, you stopped when you heard him chuckle.

“I can’t believe you said woo-hoo.” Joey added as he kept laughing slightly. “I don’t even say woo-hoo.”

“Oh! She’s coming up!” Rachel announced to everyone as she grabbed the TV remote and turned the volume up. Everyone else was excited to see who was going to be on the screen, but you and Chandler couldn’t help but make eye contact and roll your eyes.

“When we come back we’ll be talking about her new book, Euphoria Unbound. The always interesting Nora Tyler Bing. You might want to put the kids to bed for this one.” Jay Leno announced as he lifted up his copy of your mothers latest erotic novels. You couldn’t help but feel sadder and sadder the more he talked about her before they went to commercial. Ross, Monica, and Joey sat next to you with big excited smiles on their faces. Chandler already didn’t want to watch this but when he saw you drooping into the couch and your smile falling into a frown with a sad look on his face, he knew he couldn’t take it any longer. He knew you hadn’t heard from your mother since you moved out because he hadn’t either.

“We don’t have to watch this.” Chandler decided enough was enough. “Weekend at Bernie’s is on Showtime, HBO, and Cinemax.” He announced the change of TV as he picked up the remote.

“Come on, she’s your guys’s mom.” Joey complained in surprise that neither of you wanted to watch your mom on one of the biggest talk shows in America. The fact that Joey didn’t see why you were upset made you just that much more upset.

“Exactly. Weekend at Bernie’s! Dead guy getting hit in the groin 20, 30 times!” Chandler tried one last time for the sake of both of you.

“Guys.” Rachel beamed to you and Chandler. “I love your mom’s books. I cannot get on a plane without one. I mean, this is so cool.” Rachel was practically giddy when she found out that your mom was the author of her favorite novels.

“You wouldn’t think so if you were 11 years old and all your friends are passing around page 79 of Mistress Bitch.” Chandler relayed. You would have jumped in on the conversation too, because man did you have a million stories, but you just couldn’t think of any. Plus because of recent events you weren’t really in the mood to talk.

“Yeah, Chandler. I love your mom. I think she's a blast.” Ross spoke, apparently on the side Rachel was on. That your mother was this fun, wonderful person.

“Yeah, you say that because she’s not your mom.” You finally mumbled loud enough for all of them to hear you. They all turned to look at you, and for the first time they were seeing how hard this was for you. Ross immediately stopped talking, Monica and Phoebe looked at each other not sure if they should say something, and Joey wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you a little closer to his side. It made you feel slightly better, but you just wanted to run and hide under the covers in Joey’s bed for at least a week. But when the others heard kissing noises, they all turned around to see that Paolo was here and was practically eating Rachel’s face off of her body.

“When did Rigatoni get back from Rome?” Ross asked, now adding to the sad party you were having.

“Last night.” Monica answered him.

“Really? So then his plane didn’t explode in a ball of fire?” Ross asked, clearly not jealous at all. “Just a dream I had. But phew.” He thought would be funny to say out loud.

“Hey! Hey! She’s on!” Apparently Phoebe was also excited about all of this, and Joey left you and was now on the edge of his seat on the couch.

“Ah! Nora Bing!” Paolo yelled in excitement, much to your dismay as you watched your mom walk onto the screen, waving at the audience on the other side of the camera.

“Before we get to the book, now what is this about you being arrested in London? What’s that all about?” Jay Leno asked your mother, which had you rolling your eyes at that piece that was news to you.

“Your mom was arrested?” Phoebe laughed with astonishment.

“Shh, I’m busy beaming with pride.” Chandler told her, which clearly wasn’t accurate.

“This is kind of embarrassing, but occasionally, after I’ve been intimate with a man..” your mom started her answer.

“Why would she say that’s embarrassing?” You masked your pain with fake humor. To which everyone ‘shhed’ you.

“I just get this craving for kung pao chicken.” Your mom proudly answered for everyone.

“That’s too much information!” Chandler yelled at the TV.

“So now you’re doing this whole book tour thing. How’s that going?” Leno asked her.

“Oh, fine. I’m leaving for New York tomorrow, which I hate. But I get to see my kids, who I love.” Your mom smiled proudly, but it was hard to tell from the botox that she had gotten done. But all that you could focus on was the fact that she was coming here. She was coming here, to New York, after everything that had happened, and that was the way you had to find out. You were dying on the inside. But all your friends around you and your boyfriend all awwed for you and your brother. You crossed your arms tighter over your chest, wishing you could be anywhere else right now.

“Oh, this is how we find out.” Chandler yelled, sounding like he was pissed. “Most mom’s use the phone.”

“You know, I…”Jay Leno started saying as he got comfortable in his seat. But he also seemed like he didn’t want to offend your mom.“Don’t take this the wrong way, I just don’t see you as a mom somehow. I don’t mean that bad.”

“Oh, no.” Your mom scoffed while looking at the audience. “I am a fabulous mom. I bought my kids their first condoms.” Half of your friends turned to look at your brother while the other half turned to look at you with your hand over your eyes in embarrassment. You then just decided that you couldn’t handle it anymore and ran out of Monica’s apartment and to yours, and to Joey’s bed so you could hide. You were just glad that you managed to avoid eye contact with all of them. However, Chandler was just standing there completely mortified.

“And then he burst into flames.” Chandler said to himself as he felt like he was dying on the inside.

#friends rewrite #Joey Tribbiani #bing!reader #sister!bing #joey tribbiani x reader #chandler bing #ross geller #rachel green #phoebe buffay #monica geller

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andromedasstarship · 3 years

Text

faceless, nameless - chapter 1

photo credit - unknown

pairing - kylo ren x reader

warnings - canon-typical star wars violence, depictions of pain/near death experiences, sadness, depressed reader, angst, betrayal, hospital rooms, injured reader

summary - Poe opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, but nothing came out. After a few instances of this, you decided to address the elephant in the room. “You think Ren will come looking for me, don’t you?”

blog rules

a/n - the next chapter is completed as well and will be uploaded tomorrow after editing! thanks for reading :) send an ask/reply to be put on the taglist.

masterlist // read it on ao3 here

prologue // next chapter

-----

the moon

Unlike Kylo, you had never felt the need to wear a mask during your days with the First Order. Kylo had requested, near begged you to- worried you’d become too identifiable and therefore an easier target-, but your job wasn’t to intimidate. Your job was to be a diplomat and a strategist and the nicer face of Order. It was quite difficult to create the intimate bonds your job required if you weren’t able to show your face. Across the galaxy, they had many names for you- the devil’s whore, Lady Ren, concubine-, but no matter what someone called you, you arguably ended up having one of the most identifiable faces in the entire galaxy.

At the moment you weren’t sure if that was working better or worse for you. Sprawled out in the sand, in a pool of your own blood, a pair of Resistance pilots were standing over you. Their outfits were gaudy, you thought, bright orange and quite the eyesore. They were arguing about something, you were pretty sure it was whether or not they should save you. You forced yourself to focus and strained to process what they were saying.

“This is Kylo Ren’s girl, do you understand that? Kylo Ren’s girl. We touch her and we die.” The blonde haired one was saying.

“Do you see Ren around anywhere? Or anyone from the First Order?” That came out of the one with dark curly hair. He was undeniably attractive, you thought. “If we save her, maybe we’ll have a bargaining chip”

“That or he’s gonna think we kidnapped her and shot her and then he’s going to blow us all up!” Good point, blondie, a little off given the circumstance, but he didn’t know that.

They didn’t even try talking to you, good guy optimism or not, the faraway look in your eyes and your labored breathing told them it wasn’t worth it.

Eventually, you felt them pick you up and start carrying you somewhere, presumably their ship. The dark haired one had won the conversation with his whole ‘we’re the good guys’ mantra. Not that you were complaining, you didn’t necessarily want to die. When they dropped you on a table and started working at getting your wound cleaned you decided it was safe to let your mind go to sleep. You’d thank them in the morning if you woke up.

----

You did, wake up, but it was days later and you were in a rather nondescript, too bright, makeshift hospital room. Never one for dramatics, you didn’t try pulling out your IV or ripping bandages off or jumping out of your hospital bed. You just laid there and made a list in your mind of what happened; it was the first time since being shot that you had a true moment to think.

Kylo had come to you in the morning and told you he was taking you on a surprise trip to a nearby planet that had a beach.

You and Kylo laid on the beach for hours, he was rather distant, but that wasn’t cause for concern.

He kissed you like he was never going to kiss you again.

You felt a blaster shot rip through you and immediately assumed you were under attack.

Kylo was holding the blaster.

Kylo laid you down on the sand and left without looking back.

You laid there for..., you weren’t sure how long.

Resistance pilots saved you.

And now you were at...?

You took a better look at your surroundings. Too white walls, little in terms of supplie- especially in comparison to the splendor you were accustomed to-, scratchy sheets, no windows and one single metal door. You were undoubtedly in shock, still unable to process the extent of your injury, how close you’d been to death and especially the part about Kylo. There was also the IV taped snugly to your arm, you could only imagine they were pumping you full of various drugs and pain meds; they probably did it to keep you sluggish for when you woke up and not to help keep your emotions at bay, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

The drugs made it difficult to keep track of time, but you assumed it had been just under an hour when Pretty Pilot walked into the room. He must’ve not expected you to be awake, judging by how wide his eyes got when they met yours.

You decided to be the one to break the silence. “Hello.”

At that the pretty pilot fully entered the room, letting the door shut with a bang behind him. “Hello.”

“Am I allowed to ask for your name?” You asked.

“Poe. Poe Dameron.”

“I’m assuming you know my name already then?” You asked, shuffling in your bed to get a better look at him.

“Everyone knows your name.” Poe replied, walking further into the room. He pulled out a chair that had been next to your bed and sat down, looking up at you. “How are you feeling? You were out for nearly a standard week.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out of you; or the painful moan that followed after the movement sent a sharp pain up your spine. “I feel like I got shot.”

Pretty Pilot Poe grinned at that too. “Guess I should’ve seen that coming huh?” His face got a tad bit more serious and he continued, “do you know where you are?”

“With the Resistance I assume?”

He answered with a nod and leaned back in his chair. It was clear he was unsure how to proceed with the conversation, your years as a diplomat had taught you well in interpreting body language. This must’ve been uncharted territory for both of you. The First Order rarely took prisoners alive and the ones they did were never alive for long, nor did you have much involvement in their time with the Order. To your knowledge, the Resistance had never captured anyone of importance, not even a lowly officer or trooper. You briefly wondered what it was like when Poe and the blonde one carted you into the Resistance- ship, base, you weren’t really sure-, and plopped your dying body into the med bay.

Poe opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, but nothing came out. After a few instances of this, you decided to address the elephant in the room. “You think Ren will come looking for me, don’t you?”

Poe’s face morphed into a form of shock, but you could tell he was glad you had breached the subject of Ren. “We know he will.”

“No. No he won’t,” you started, rolling your head to the other side so you were looking away from him, “Ren’s the one who shot me and left me-”

Poe gasped loudly, effectively cutting you off. You rolled your head back to face him and couldn’t help the little smile that formed when you saw his more than bewildered face. At least one of you was processing the betrayal.

“If your people are smart, you won’t attempt to contact him or the Order and tell them that I’m alive.” You said quietly, giving him the most serious look you could muster.

Poe’s mouth was still opening and closing, a bit like a fish, but he managed to shake a nod your way. After a few moments of silence that were getting close to uncomfortable, he shot out of his seat. “I need to, um, tell my team. I’ll be back later.” He was out the door before you could formulate a response.

So, it’d been a standard week since Kylo- you weren’t quite ready to swallow that truth yet. It’d been a standard week since you’d last been on Starkiller. You wondered if any of your friends missed you. Not that you had a ton on base, but over the years you’d grown quite close with Phasma and as much as Kylo hated it, you and Hux got along very well and worked wonderfully as a team.

The longer you were awake the more aware you became of the pain. And, kriff, was it bad. Your muscles were sore, the sand had rubbed the back of your arms and legs raw, and every time you breathed you felt a sharp pain originate from the general area of your blaster wound.

When the door opened again- your guess was two hours later-, you watched an elderly woman walk in, Pretty Pilot right behind her. When your eyes met with the woman’s, you knew exactly who she was; she had the same eyes as Him. You’d also definitely seen her from Resistance intel the First Order had intercepted, but Kylo hated a tangible reminder of his past so those photos were never up long.

General Organa took the seat Poe had been in before, Poe himself leaning up against the wall behind her.

“So, Poe tells me Ben did this to you.” General Organa said, breaking the silence.

“He hates that name,” you said, feeling the slightest amount of guilt at how the woman’s face turned down at that, “but yes, he did. I don’t have the answers you want.”

General Organa reached a hand out, gently covering yours, and gave you the type of look only a mom could give. For the next hour or so, her and Poe bounced random questions off of you while graciously answering all the ones you had. At some point, food had even arrived for the three of you; a wholly ‘good guy’ gesture, even though you couldn’t stomach more than a few bites.

Before the General and Pretty Pilot left, she gave you a very simple ultimatum. The Resistance would allow you to stay as long as it took for you to heal and they would aid the process. When you were healthy again, you could either join them or be blindfolded and dumped on a completely random, hopefully inhabitable, planet in the Outer Rim. The only reason the majority of the council had agreed to take you in, was due to your intimate relationship with First Order happenings and plans; hell, you’d created most of them yourself and the ones that weren’t personally designed by you, still had to be approved by you. She didn’t expect an answer right then, which you were grateful for, but you all knew the deadline wouldn’t be too far out.

----

For the entirety of your stay, three standard weeks to be exact, Pretty Pilot would come into your room at least once, for hours at a time, and talk to you about anything. The first few days were pretty awkward, you had most certainly personally killed some of his comrades at least once, but you were both quite the conversationalists and his ‘good guy’ charm came equipped with second chances. You learned you were both fiercely competitive when it came to card games. A bit too competitive, seeing as one game got you so worked up you pulled a stitch or two, elongating your healing process.

Poe even tried to help you process your grief. He talked you into speaking to the designated Resistance therapist, who you were certain was just the person who gave the best advice and not an actual licensed professional; it didn’t matter much to you. She was a kind older woman, who sat across from you for 30 minutes a day, talking about this and that and ‘how are you really feeling today miss’ and ‘it’s okay to feel your emotions’ and other therapeutic nonsense. You had a feeling that these people thought you were incapable of feelings, not a horribly misplaced assumption, given your prior occupation, but it’s not like you were heartless. You weren’t- heartless-, you were just avoiding the reality of your situation for as long as possible. Some days, you felt like you weren’t even in your own body, just a soul looking in.

When the dam finally broke on day 13 of your hospital stay. The betrayal of having Kylo, the man you loved, turn his gun on you and leave you for dead quite literally brought you to your knees. It had gotten so bad- a mix of screaming and full blown sobs, you’d even thrown up at one point-, that one of the nurses had to medically knock you out. Even when you were able to refrain from crying each time you opened your mouth, you couldn’t shake the feeling of emptiness that had made home in your bones.

In all honesty, you probably weren’t the most reliable narrator in terms of your recovery period. Half the time you were either drugged out of your mind or stuck in a deep depression. Kylo’s betrayal had made you desperate for someone or something to accept you; a newfound fear of abandonment and worthlessness.

In the end, you made the deal with General Organa. You made it explicitly clear you would never outright hand them First Order battle plans or ship layouts- couldn’t handle the way it would make you feel like a traitor, couldn’t handle the idea you could be the reason one of your friends was killed-, but if they were on the right track about something you’d assist them. Saying yes left more questions to be answered and various topics to be addressed; you had made a brief list of them when making your decision.

Would you be able to stomach becoming a Resistance soldier who would be asked to kill First Order soldiers?

You couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized, so you’d have to change your appearance.

How would they inform the rest of the Resistance of your presence, at the moment only a handful of high level officials were aware.

The ones who know, understandably, didn’t trust you at all.

Joining the Resistance, in the way that you were, would be the furthest thing from easy. Good thing you were never one to shy away from a challenge.

-----

a/n - wow!!!!! i cant explain how excited i am for this story. thank you so much for your kind words and support so far. my heart is more than full. comments/replies/reblogs/likes always appreciated :)

taglist - @egguuuu @sunflowersandotherthings @clarizuliani10 @kylorendrip

no permission is given to copy or republish my writing on any other platform or account. if you see this story outside of my blog or my ao3 it is stolen work. i do not own nor claim to own star wars or any of the character involved in it.

#kylo ren #kylo #ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren/you #reader insert #kylo ren fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #'stori writes #faceless nameless

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schrijverr · 3 years

Text

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 4 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: brief mentions of death

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

Chapter 4: Cornflowers Means ‘Delicacy’

Thomas felt as if he’d gotten Martha’s blessing to pursue Alex. He had wanted to before, but he’d felt guilty towards her, so instead he had riled the other up and argued with him.

But now…

With their tentative friendship evolving every day, the sudden email reminding him to keep living seemed like a sign. Maybe that was stupid, but Thomas was going to cling to it. Though he had to figure out how to work up the courage to flirt first.

He was absolutely hopeless at the whole thing. He’d started bribing Alex with food, making sure the other ate lunch everyday as a way in.

It was a slow process, but yesterday Alex had shown up at his office with a bag with two bagels in it when Thomas had gotten lost in his work and forgotten the time. He’d shrugged: “Seemed only fair to chip in myself for a change.”

Instead of using it as a way to thank him or something, Thomas had made a joke about Alex finally stopping with mooching off him, which had only earned him a small shove, before they had started an argument about the usefulness of the hole in the middle of a bagel.

Thomas was close to ripping his hair out in frustration.

Martha had flirted with him, he had never done this. He had no clue what he should be doing and James was absolutely no help. When he had asked him the man had simply said: “Too aroace, Tom.”

So now he was going to the one other person who could help him with this, but by God did he dread it.

“Hi, Thomas, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, Angie,” he replied, holding up a bottle of red wine, “Can I embarrass myself again and have you tell me I’m stupid before helping me?”

Angelica grinned: “With love. Here, come in.”

Thomas came in and dropped the wine on the kitchen counter of her apartment, before throwing himself on the couch with a groan. That earned him an eyeroll from Angelica, who poured them both a glass of wine, before pushing his legs of the couch and sitting down.

“Pizza and a romcom?” she asked, phone already in hand.

“Yeah, let’s be fully trashy,” Thomas agreed.

“You love trashy.”

“I truly do.”

Angelica ordered the pizza and waited for Thomas to leave behind the shelter of a pillow. He finally did and took a large gulp of his wine, before he said: “I don’t know how to flirt.”

“What?” out of all the things, Angelica had not seen that coming, but the realization hit her: “Oh my God are you trying to shoot your shot with Alex?”

“Maybe?” his voice was unsure and small and Angelica was living.

“Are you for real?” she exclaimed, “Tell me everything! Leave out no details. Holy fuck, this is great.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said miserably.

“You can’t just ask me about advise to flirt with a guy, whom you’ve been crushing on for years while claiming you were never going to go after it and expect me to not get excited about it, Thomas. I mean come on, what changed?”

“I mean, me and Alex are kind of friends now and then-” he hesitated, unsure if he wanted to tell Angelica about the email from Martha, “then I got a reminder- it’s a long story.”

“Tell me,” Angelica demanded.

“You remember Alex brought Philip with him to work?” Thomas began.

“Yeah, that was four months ago, though.”

“Well, me and Alex talked and I told him about Martha, because Philip had told me about John, remember that?” he asked.

Angelica nodded.

“He called me,” Thomas went on, “It was John’s birthday and he was struggling and I had told him he could always talk to me and stuff, so he did. We bought Philip a Halloween costume and then we went to John’s grave so that he could show it to him.”

“Oh shit,” Angelica took a big gulp of her wine, “That’s a lot heavier than I was expecting, sorry. I didn’t know that part, he told us he handled John’s birthday well.”

“I mean, he did, sort off,” Thomas said, “Don’t let him know you know, I don’t know if he wanted me to tell you. But in the end it was a good day.”

“John loved Halloween.”

“Thought so, Alex mentioned Philip getting excited about his costume,” Thomas told her.

Angelica cringed in sympathy.

“Anyway, we spend John’s birthday together and after that it was different in the office and stuff and I brought him lunch-”

“You brought him lunch!”

“He had forgotten, what was I supposed to do? Was that weird?” Thomas sounded scared, Alex hadn’t seem to mind and he did it after. WouldAlex be mad at him?

“No, no, not bad,” Angelica quickly assured him, “Just sweet.”

“Then why did you react like that?” Thomas hissed, stress outing itself.

“Because I haven’t seen Alex eat in break room since forever,” Angelica replied, “He deflects every time I asked, we were already planning an intervention or something.”

“Oh,” Thomas didn’t know what to say to that, “Well, you don’t, he’s been eating fine.”

“Thank God for that, Eliza can be scary.”

Thomas huffed out a laugh at that, before proceeding: “So, I brought him lunch and he thanked me and said that I could call him if needed too.”

“How precious.”

“So I did,” Thomas decided that after sharing about John’s birthday to Angelica it would only be fair to tell her about himself as well, “Because Martha had send me an email – it was a site thing, send emails to the future and stuff – and, well, that was an unexpected punch to the gut.”

“Are you okay, Tommy?” Angelica’s brows were concerned, “I didn’t hear you about it.”

“It’s fine, Angie,” he assured her, “Me and Alex watched movies all day and just reminisced about her, it was nice. But in the email, Martha told me to move on from her.”

“She knows you too well,” Angelica smiled softly, she had known Martha herself and had seen first hand how devastated Thomas was after her death.

“Yeah, so that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past few months, but I. Can’t. Flirt,” he fell back dramatically once more.

“God, you’re hopeless,” Angelica said, “Luckily I am here to save you, I am the best wingwoman known to man.”

“I hope you’re right, because being friends with Alex is killing me. Do you know how cute that motherfucker can be?” Thomas told her, “He has these big ass smiles and these little giggles and they are designed to kill me.”

Angelica smiled fondly, slight hurt in her eyes as a different person with the same complaints flashed in front of her eyes.

The bell rang and Angelica quickly got their pizzas before she sat down to form a game plan, which she privately named ‘Plan Jamilton’.

“Okay, so first up, what is a regular day with Alex like? So an office day, but then I don’t have to hear about your boring meetings unless Alex is involved,” she asked.

“I get in, he’s usually in the break room getting coffee, we talk – well, argue, but not mean – about whatever, we work, we eat lunch, then work some more, then I tell him to home if it’s not Tuesday or Friday, because he goes home earlier on those day, because he has to get Philip from school,” Thomas listed, then shrugged: “Meetings are still the same.”

“Huh, is that why I couldn't find him last Tuesday?”

“Yeah, normally Philip gets picked up by one of his Aunts or Un- you know that, sorry,” Thomas cut himself off.

“I know the others pick Philip up from time to time and that Alex hires a babysitter, I didn’t know there was a pattern,” Angelica confessed, “I’m more the fun Aunt that shows up from time to time with presents, Eliza is more the overly involved Aunt, but that’s fair since Philip was in her for nine months.”

“Touche.”

“Anyways, you and Alex seem to talk a few times during the day. Morning and lunch and before he goes home, all good opportunities,” she suggested.

“I’m aware, but then I’d have to know what to say, don’t I, Angie,” Thomas pointed out.

“Alex is a natural flirter, give him a push and he’ll do most of the work.”

“But then what do I do? How do I react to him flirting? That’ll be bad for my soul,” Thomas whined.

“Think of it like banter, you two do it all the time,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “Just maybe make it a bit more suggestive here and there, add innuendos. I think you can manage that.”

“And what if Alex thinks it’s weird or if he’s just doing it because he’s flirty?” Thomas worried, “I mean, you said it yourself that he’s naturally flirty, what if he doesn’t think anything of it and then I am the weird one and he hates me.”

“He’s not going to hate you, you idiot,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “He likes you.”

“What? How do you know that?” Thomas needed answers and he needed them now.

“Technically, I don’t, but-”

“Then you have no ground to stand on and I shouldn’t risk it.”

“Let me talk, Thomas Jefferson,” the full name shut him up, “As I wanted to say: Technically, I don’t know for sure if he likes you, but he has stopped complaining about you and last week he said you might have shit ideas on company policy, but you had great taste in classical writers. He loves classical writers. That’s huge for him.”

“That’s hardly anything, Angie.”

“And Laf asked me what was up between you two,” Angelica played her ace.

“Laf thinks there is something up between us two?” Thomas took the bait as predicted, hopeful puppy eyes that shouldn’t be adorable on a 6’3, grown man.

“Yeah, he said – and I quote – Hm, did you notice anything off between mon petit lionand our dear Thomas, those two seems to be getting closer,non?”

“Your French accent is horrible.”

“Not the focus, Tommy. The focus is that he wiggled his brows about it.”

“He wiggled his brows?”

“Yes, he only does that if he is super certain of his observations or if he knows something. I’m still figuring out which one it is,” Angelica informed him.

“So maybe Alex said something to him?” Thomas suggested.

“Maybe, but you’d have to ask him.”

“I’m not going to ask him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he is a nosy Frenchman, who doesn’t know when to stop meddling and he’ll embarrass me in front of Alex, I’m sure of it,” Thomas whined.

“He’s not that bad, Thomas. Get over yourself,” Angelica told him, taking a bite out of her pizza slice.

“No, one time I told him I was considering celebrating my birthday and he threw me a huge surprise party – granted, it was sweet of him, but also no, not for me – with like a live band and stuff. It was way too much.”

“Okay, so maybe not ask Laf directly,” Angelica conceded.

Thomas eyes suddenly lit up with inspiration and he exclaimed: “You could ask him!”

“No!” Angelica protested immediately.

“Why not?” Thomas was pleading now, “For me.”

“Because then he’ll know for suresomething is up and talk to either you or Alex and then your whole plan will still be ruined,” Angelica explained, “You just need to trust me and flirt with Alex. I swear it will be fine.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“Then I’ll get you ice cream and chew out Alex,” she promised.

“I hate it when you make a point,” Thomas complained.

“And I hate eating without playing a movie, we both make sacrifices,” Angelica rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed as she took another bite of her pizza, almost as if to make a point.

In the end they did watch a movie. It was a shitty romcom, as promised, and every time someone flirted Angelica rated it and advised for or against the method. Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle or hug her.

He still didn’t say anything for almost a week and a half, until he found himself in the printer room with Alex.

“Honestly, Thomas, you can’t possibly think that saying a cloud and rain are the same makes any sense,” Alex rolled his eyes, pushing some buttons on the printer.

“No, just think about it, okay? Clouds are water, rain is also water, correct?” Alex grudgingly agreed, “A cloud is basically water floating around until it gets cold and falls, so therefore rain is basically just a cloud falling.”

Alex paused, processing his words, before he said: “Oh my God, shut up.”

“Make me,” Thomas had been so caught up about winning their argument that he hadn’t even thought before letting the slightly suggestive words slip out.

Now they both paused. Thomas looked shocked at his own words and Alex studied him curiously, his eyes scanning him up and down, before he smirked and asked: “Is that a threat or a promise, Tommy? Because you really shouldn’t say things you can’t deliver on.”

Then he grabbed his papers and left Thomas gaping like a fish on dry land as he tried to process the entire interaction.

Alex was internally panicking as he hightailed out of the room, hoping to leave Thomas before the man had gathered his wits again. Sure, Thomas might have started it, but Alex had taken it a level further.

He’d wanted to flirt with Thomas, but they only just started to be friendly. Well, maybe not just, but it wasn’t as if they had stopped being rivals that long ago.

It was just…

It was just that Philip had really liked Thomas, he was still sometimes asking about how Mr. Thomas was doing. And the man had done so much for him on John’s birthday. And he had looked so vulnerable with the email and Alex had never seen that side of him and his stupid crush was developing at an alarming rate. And he didn’t want to acknowledge it or make it real, but…

Butnow he might have made it weird.

Fuck, what was he going to do? Oh, wait, Eliza was picking up Philip today – normally he would do it, but school ended early that day so Eliza had offered – and it was after lunch, so he wouldn’t see Thomas today and he could talk to her and have a plan tomorrow.

With that in mind, he tried to forget about the whole incident and work till the end of the day, losing himself in his work and hoping he wouldn’t run into Thomas.

He left at five on the dot and at half past five he was knocking on Eliza’s door. She opened, but before she could say anything he blurted out: “I flirted with Thomas today. I think he started it, but now I’m thinking it might have been me.”

She blinked, then blinked again, before she pulled him into the house: “Tell me everything. Is this the great Mr. Thomas Philip was telling me about? The one you’ve been crushing on and didn’t tell me and I had to hear about from Herc?”

“Maybe?” he squeaked.

He and Philip ended up eating dinner with her and Maria and afterwards Maria watched a movie with Philip, sending them a knowing look that made Alex blush.

Alex had known Eliza since Freshman year in college. He and her had hit it off right away, even dated for a while, but then John had taken a break from the army to study and- well, they just found they were only dating to prove something to themselves.

The point was Alex told Eliza everything. She’d been the first to know he fancied John, had helped him pick an outfit for their first date, had been there for ring shopping and wedding planning. She had carried Philip for nine months for Pete’s sake.

Yet he had hesitated with telling her about Thomas.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but if he told her it would be real, because telling her made it real and he was scared of this being real.

But now it was going to be real.

It was going to be real because Thomas had said something slightly suggestive and Alex had taken that as a sign to blatantly flirt with the man. It was going to be real, because he was going to tell Eliza.

Fuck.

He started up slowly, hesitating about certain parts, what to say and what not, but in the end the words started to flow out of him like they always did.

Alex told Eliza about how he’d thought Thomas was attractive, but had pushed that down with the personality, but then he’d been nice to Philip and that had stirred something inside him again. He told her about John’s birthday, the endless jokey lunch discussions, Martha’s email, how he the feelings had been building up until he had blurted out his comment that day.

All throughout Eliza just listened and nodded along until his word vomit session was over and he just sat there and breathed.

“It sounds to me,” she began carefully, “like you really like Thomas and that he is a good influence on you. And if I understood correctly, he has proven himself to be willingly involved with Pip. He sounds like a catch, ‘Lexi.”

“He is,” Alex sighed with a smile, then slightly sadder he added, “I just don’t know what to do. I might have scared him off today.”

“Come on, don’t be so deprecating. I knew you in college, you can woo him,” Eliza encouraged him teasingly.

“Wow, thanks, ‘Liza,” he huffed.

“I’m serious, ‘Lexi. You can flirt and you know it, you’re a charmer if you want to be, when you’re not, you know, forcing people to have opinions they need to defend,” she said, “Though, Thomas already knows that, since-” she gestured vaguely, “since you two do that.”

Alex laughed at that, before he turned more serious: “What if I fuck this up, Betsy? What if I do something wrong? What if Pip gets hurt by this? I don’t know how I’d live with myself if this hurts him.”

He only called her Betsy if he was really worried about something.

“Hey, Alexander, look at me,” if he was calling her Betsy, she was pulling out full names, “You’re not going to fuck this up, you just need to be patient for a moment.”

“Have you been hanging around Burr?” Alex groaned.

Eliza rolled her eyes at him: “No and just because you don’t agree with someone doesn’t mean they can’t have a point.”

“He should have points, ‘Liza, that’s the entire point,” Alex told her.

“I am not having this discussion with you right now, we were focusing on something else,” she knew deflection when she saw it, “We were talking about Thomas and you wooing him.”

“What? Do you have a battle plan or something?”

“Of course I have.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

“You could stand to mention it more,” she smiled, “Now, you are flirty, which is great everyone will say that you are. He knows Laf, he’ll ask if he’s curious and Laf is how we keep tabs on him. Trust me, he will come talking if Thomas ever asks him anything like that.”

Alex laughed: “Remember when Herc said he had a date and Laf showed up at the restaurant in a disguise to check on her, because she had ‘weird vibes’?”

Eliza snorted and nodded at the memory, before moving on: “So we have a route of communication, sort of, to tell how the flirting is received. If it’s good, you can ask him out. If not, well, I have ice cream and a shoulder to cry on.”

“Betsy, you are the best of women, honestly. If you weren’t so gay, I’d marry you,” he told her with a grin.

“Like I said, you’re a charmer,” she ruffled his hair, before ushering him and Philip – who had been elated about the later bedtime – out the door while reminding him to tell her everything from now on.

He left with that promise to her and a lighter heart.

The next day started like any other, with Thomas finding Alex in the break room like nothing had happened. For a moment Thomas worried the other was going to pretend that nothing had been said, crumbling his resolve to start flirting today.

“Hi, Alex,” he decided on his normal greeting, just to test the room.

Alex turned and smiled – it was that stupid bright smile that did things to Thomas – then said: “Hi, you’re looking good today? New pants?”

They weren’t new and Thomas knew that Alex knew that, because it was an outfit he’d worn many times. The comment eased some of his anxiety about this as he replied: “No, but glad you’re finally appreciating my impeccable sense of style.”

The eyeroll Alex gave him couldn't have been stopped even if he tried, so he just winked: “Nah, you still dress overly colored. Maybe I can help you find a better sense of style. Those pants would have to come off for that, though.”

Then he sashayed away like he hadn’t left Thomas blushing, pouring coffee over his hand because he wasn’t paying attention to the coffeepot.

And for the next few daysit continued like this. Their arguments that had turned into banter had now turned into flirting.

They were dancing around each other like teenagers afraid to be rejected for prom and the whole office had probably caught onto it. Alex was sure of that with all the looks knowing they were getting.

This was confirmed when Washington made him stay after a meeting in which some flirty comments had slipped into their debate, he raised a brow at Alex and asked: “What happened to the ‘nothing like that, sir’?”

Alex blushed heavily and squeaked: “Back then it wasn’t.”

“So it is like that now?”

“Sir,” it was a whine and Alex would deny it later.

“Alex,” Washington just replied, completely nonplussed.

“Ugh,” Alex groaned, this softly said: “Maybe? Not yet. I don’t know.”

“Well, Thomas is a good man, be kind to him,” Washington told him, a slight warning in his tone, before he got protective, “And be careful with yourself too, son.”

“I’m not-” Alex cut off the standard reply, because it was really not true at this point, so instead he nodded: “I will, thank you, sir.”

Washington send him away with some paperwork and an order not to stay late again and Alex promised he wouldn’t, because he was picking up Philip today and he had promised the kid they could go to a park after school.

Philip was so excited to see him and Alex pushed him on a swing and caught him when he wanted to jump off.

During dinner Philip asked: “How is Mr. Thomas? He was nice, why doesn’t he come around again? He came that one time and you are friends now, right? Why doesn’t he come around like Uncle Herc and Uncle Laf do?”

“It’s a bit complicated, Pip,” Alex said after a moment, “Me and Thomas are friends, but it just never flowed like that.”

“You always says I can change my own path, why can’t you?” God, sometimes Pip was too smart for his own good.

“I’ll see if he wants to come to movie night with your Uncles and Aunties. Does that sound fun?” he might regret this, but the look on Pip’s face was worth it.

He didn’t approach Thomas directly, with all the flirting he didn’t want it to come across as asking for a date. If he was going to ask Thomas, he was going to ask it better than that. Instead he approached Angelica: “Hey, Angie, can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“For movie night, I, uhm, well, I wanted to ask Thomas to come, but that’s weird, because it would be me asking, so I wanted to ask if you could invite him to come along?” Alex hoped she would say yes.

Angelica smiled pleasantly and Alex dreaded her answer: “Why is it weird when you do it?”

“Come on, Angie,” Alex whined, “I’m sure you and Eliza gossip about me. You know what this is about. If I ask him out, I’ll do it differently than a group movie night, because Pip wanted to see him again.”

“You’re gonna ask him out?” Angelica asked excitedly.

Alex cursed his stupid mouth and said: “Maybe. It’s still new and stuff, but eventually, yeah, it’s the plan at least. Don’t tell him though, please.”

Angelica cooed: “You are too cute. I won’t tell, don’t worry.”

“Will you ask him?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” maybe there was a bit too much force in the words, but Alex didn’t care.

That Friday Alex was more anxious about movie night than he had any right to be. It was usually hosted at his house so that he could put Pip to bed on time, before they watched non-kid movies, though everyone had a soft spot for the animated movies.

He had checked everything over multiple times and the only thing distracting him was Philip’s latest car parkour.

Herc arrived first, sweeping his nephew into his arms and being a calming enough presence that Alex had relaxed by the time Eliza and Maria along with Peggy showed up.

Then Angelica arrived with Thomas in tow. He greeted Alex awkwardly: “Sorry, is this okay? Angie said it was, but I don’t want to intrude.”

Luckily Alex didn’t have to answer, because Philip came running: “Mr. Thomas! Mr. Thomas, I have started keeping my drawings in this book and it’s already pretty full, do you want to see? We’re going to watch Mulantonight? Have you seen Mulanbefore? Did you like it?”

Thomas smiled: “Hey, kiddo, how about one question at a time? I’d love to see your drawings.”

Philip cheered and dragged Thomas away, who send Alex an apologetic look, though Alex didn’t mind having the pressure of him. He was distracted by Angelica: “That went well.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you dork, it’s going fine,” Angelica assured him, “Now, I want something to drink. Do you have popcorn?”

Lafayette arrived last. By the time he came knocking they had all the snacks set out and the movie was waiting. He bustled in: “Bonjour, Bonjour, sorry I’m late. There was traffic and I was sleeping.”

“Uncle Laf!” Philip was off the couch and at Laf’s side in seconds, these nights would always make him excited enough that he dropped off early.

“Ah, mon petit neveu, how are you?” Laf hugged him tightly.

Philip babbled excitedly: “I’m going to become an artist. I showed Mr. Thomas my drawing book and he says they’re really good and my teacher says so as well.”

“Mr. Thomas?” Laf asked, he hadn’t been around often lately with his job keeping him busy and traveling. He had seen something was up, but he hadn’t gotten the note that the two were doing something about it and he hadn’t heard Philip about it yet either.

From the couch Thomas spoke up: “Hi, Lafayette. How was your week? Heard they needed you back in Paris?”

“Thomas! What une surprise!” Laf said and they had a conversation, which was more an interrogation how he’d ended up here. Alex saved Thomas by telling the nosy Frenchman that they were worked together on his financial plan and Thomas was not so bad ‘yes, Laf just like you said, I know.’

Movie night went great, they watched Mulan first and Philip kept asking Thomas questions throughout the entire movie, which Thomas answered dutifully. This amused the other adults greatly.

By the end the excitement had died down and Philip was nodding off. Alex left Eliza in charge of refilling the snacks, while he got Pip ready for bed.

When he got back the only spot left was right next to Thomas, he suppressed an eyeroll at his friends antics and sat down, knowing Laf would be all over this when the night was over. But for now he didn’t care.

He and Thomas had watched movies together before, albeit under different circumstances, but it was nothing new. Though he had forgotten how warm Thomas was and – now that he thought about it – he was kind of tired.

Slowly he slid sidewards throughout their viewing of The Patriotuntil he was leaning on Thomas’s shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open. In the distance he felt something shift and the he slid further, a warm arm resting over him before he drifted off completely.

When he awoke it was dark and he was tucked in on the couch, cold and alone.

He sat up in confusion until his eye fell on a note in a familiar cursive handwriting that was too pretty to belong to someone in this century. It read: You fell asleep. We thought it better to let you be. Thanks for inviting me, I had fun. Sleep tight. x, T.

And honestly that little ‘x’ shouldn’t have made Alex blush. He looked up to a picture of John and whispered: “My dear Laurens, I think I’ve fallen in too deep already.”

The picture didn’t reply, instead John’s smiling face stayed static, but Alex still found it comforting to have John looking at him with something akin to encouragement. John would want him to be happy, he had always tried to do what he thought to be best for Alex, for Pip.

“You’re right, Jacky, I shouldn’t be dancing around this,” he said, “It’s just hard. And I’m scared,” he huffed a laugh, “Isn’t that ironic? After everything I’ve been through the great Alexander Hamilton is scared of asking someone on a date.”

He paused for a moment then said: “Don’t look at me like that, you asked me on our first date, you rash motherfucker. Don’t think I’ve forgotten you springing it on me when I was almost collapsing after finishing a paper. I got you with marriage, though, so even-Steven.”

It was comforting to talk to a picture of John, it was different when talking to his grave, less heavy when not surrounded by stones. Was it probably slightly strange? Yes. But Alex had been strange his entire life.

“Maybe I should be a bit rash for once, pick up your slack,” he told John, ignoring that his friends always said that they were both too rash and it was bad for their health that the two of them got along so well, “I think I’m doing it.”

That weekend he made a plan, had to double check something with Philip and worry-rant at Eliza, she was a great listener, he truly loved her.

Then Monday morning it was time, God he was nervous as he waited at Thomas’s office, where the man usually dropped his stuff before starting his day.

“Hey, uhm, this might be weird, but Pip told me about the vase in your office and if I remember correctly it was empty Friday, so I got you these,” Alex held up a bouquet of purple flowers, “It’s- they’re cornflowers, I hope I remembered correctly.”

Thomas took them, a bit stunned, his eyes slightly sparkling.

“I looked up their meaning. They mean ‘delicacy’, but also ‘be gentle with me’ and I thought that very fitting, because you’re – this is sound weird – but you’re very cute in an ‘I want to protect you’-way,” Alex was stumbling over his words, “But it’s also a request – the ‘be gentle with me’-part, I mean –because-” he swallowed and hesitated, “Well, you see, I- I was wondering if you- you would like to go on a- uhm, on a date. With me. This Friday. If you want. You don’t have to of course, maybe I’ve read this whole thing wrong and that’s fine, but if you do want to then I’ll be happy- more than happy, actually-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I’d love to go on a date with you this Friday,” Thomas told him, blush coloring his cheeks and a bashful smile tugging on his lips.

Alex grinned the grin that did things to Thomas as he replied: “That’s- Yeah, great, I- uhm, I’ll text you details?”

“Yeah, okay. Then I’ll go put these in water. Thank you, Alex, they’re beautiful,” Thomas walked away, flowers in hand, planning to yell at Angelica through the phone.

Bit of a more lighthearted chapter after all the grief and angst lmao

Also, always lovely when I get to the part of ‘and now they flirt’ only to realize that I do not know how to flirt and I have no clue how to write it. Ooof. So shout out to time skips xp

Side note: this → “well, they just found they were only dating to prove something to themselves.” is not invalidating the fact that Alex is bi, just that Eliza wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t a raging homosexual while Alex wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t in love with John.

Also I thought it was very funny that they thought to use Laf to keep track of the other, only for both to tell him absolutely nothing

#RR writing #tw: grief mention #Alexander Hamilton #Hamilton #Hamilton AU #Jamilton #thomas jefferson #angelica schuyler #eliza schuyler #Philip Hamilton #Lafayette #marquis de lafayette #george washington #'Till Death Do Us Part #'Till Death Do Us Part Part 4 #'Till Death Do Us Part AU

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