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hyunjilicious · 3 years

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what is and what should never be [bucky barnes]

A/n: ok, so. Im really fucking insecure about this. I literally poured my heart into this fic. I'm genuinely unhappy with the beginning, but I promise you, it gets better!! I don't have it in me to rewrite it for the 4th time. I really hope you'll still like it though. If you ask me, this is the best fic idea I even had. Please, please, if you enjoyed it, let me know!!!

Summary: It was you and Bucky. An unlikely couple that shared equally disturbed pasts. When you get a day off, your paradise turns into hell as Bucky's nightmares return, leaving you alone to deal with The Winter Soldier. (FLUFF, SMUT, ANGST) 12k

Warnings: 2 smut scenes - they're graphic but not extreme, fluff, angst, violence, mentions of death and suicide, blood, a fight scene - also quite graphic but it was written to serve the angst. I don't want to spoil the ending, but if you really connect with the characters, you will not hate me!!

This day had been long awaited. After months of back to back missions and endless efforts to climb up the greasy pole of US social standards, words failed to describe how ecstatic you were to know, that for the next 24 hours, your whole schedule would fully be in your hands.

You had the freedom to do just about anything you wanted, and the simple fact that the rest of the avengers left to deal with some paperwork excited you to no end. You woke up when it was time for them to take off, and made a snarky remark about heading to the gym - something along the lines of having a productive day centered on self development.

Just about 20 minutes later, you and Bucky, now also alone in the Stark Tower, decided to start off your day on the right foot. He offered to make protein smoothies as you changed into something comfortable and fitting for a workout, but neither of you got their job done.

You had no idea how that happened, but before you knew it you were wearing your sports bra and still had your pajama pants on, moaning on the counter of Tony's kitchen as Bucky had lodged himself between your legs, hungrily exploring the heated skin of your neck, peppering you with bruise marks that represented his adoration for you. "You heal fast anyway" he shrugged, pulling you closer and digging his teeth into your flesh, sucking profusely and eliciting an erotic moan from your lips.

With every new hickey he left, another one would disappear, which in turn would make him even more frustrated, “The hell should I do? Tattoo hickeys on you!?” he groaned, moving up your neck. You caught his cheeks into your palms and kissed him back, smiling as he kept getting more and more aggravated.

It didn't come as a surprise when the blender went berserk, splattering fruit pulp, almond milk and protein powder all over the pristine walls of the room - both of you have long forgotten about it.

The way Bucky cleaned the mess was the epitome of not giving a shit, and you couldn't find it more endearing. He bitched and whined his way through the whole process, and tears formed at the corners of your eyes at the ridiculousness of the half assed job he just did.

You eventually reached the gym - of course, against all your pouting and begging to put off this session. "Doll, you're the only avenger who can't fight. A punk on the street could snap your purse and there would be nothing you can do"

Wrong, he was not. You couldn't fight - but at the same time that didn't mean you were defenceless. It was your immense power that for months on end made your teammates consider you a liability. The energy that surged through your veins had been too great for you to handle, and in fact, it still was, but now, thanks to the joined efforts of Tony and Bruce, there was a way for that power to be contained. Their solution came in the form of two massive shackles wrapped around the length of your forearms. They were made of dimeritium and kept all kinds of energy from leaving your body. But, even so, that energy was in full form, buzzing inside every fiber of your being. And so, while wearing them you couldn't attack anyone, but there wasn't a way for them to harm you either. That field of energy protected you from every kind of damage and wounds you had ever encountered, ranging from fist fights to automatic rifles to guided grenades.

"I'm the only one that doesn't need to know" you huffed and puffed, annoyed but still determined to get this first training session done with.

But that never happened. Halfway through your warm up rounds, your teasing side awoke and it took you about ten minutes to go from batting your eyelashes and flaunting your ass, to nonchalantly cupping his cock into your hand.

No one could blame Bucky for not even trying to stop you. Bless him, he did everything he could, but he was never able to resist you. And probably never will be.

By the time you were done at the gym, both your bodies were coated in lecherous layers of sweat, no of them being from actually working out. It was only a matter of time until you managed to break his self control and he had you sprawled on all fours in the middle of the boxing ring, moaning your soul out as he pounded your pussy.

The momentum made your whole frame rock back and forth, your hair falling around your face, "Holy fuck-"

The room vibrated with the vulgar slaps he afflicted on your bare ass. You arched your back and cried his name out loud, "Come on, Bucky- I- harder please-"

"How are you already so needy?" he chuckled, caging your waist between his strong arms and pulling you up until your back reached his chest. "I ate this pussy this morning before we got out of bed"

"You know I love your tongue-" you giggled out of breath as you tried to look at him over your shoulder. "But it doesn't compare to your cock"

"What does?" Bucky rhetorically questioned before picking up his pace. He kept slamming his hips into yours, fucking you at full force as with each thrust, his cock rammed against your walls hard enough to make you see stars.

"I'm really fucking close, Buck" you whined, feeling your knees start to refuse to maintain your weight any longer.

"Don't cum yet" he panted, "Wait for me"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" you cried out loud, liquid pleasure seeping out of you in the form of fresh tears streaming down your cheeks. "Please-" you whined, "I can't hold it anymore, I'm-"

"Not yet, baby" Bucky groaned, easily stopping you from wiggling around in his hold. His thrusts became sloppy and the orgasm got the best of him. He buried his face deep in your shoulder as his high forced guttural moans to rip from his throat.

As he filled you up with his cum, as much as you wanted to comment about him making you wait and then not even bothering to tell you you could cum, you couldn't. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and your chest heaved as the spiral of bliss seemed to go on and on, tons of ecstasy propagating in long painful waves across your body.

"Fuck-" Bucky panted as helped you up, "I could get used to days like this. We should retire"

"I'm not retiring-" you teasingly shook your head, "not until you find a way to give me a baby"

"I'd give you all the babies" he retorted, tugging your hand.

It caused you to lose your balance and stumble into his chest, "I love you"

"Love you" Bucky kissed the top of your head and spun you around. With his palms on your hips, he started guiding you towards the door, "Let's get you cleaned up"

And then, another wave of unproductivity followed. You showered, ordered pizza, whined about how there was still some smoothie left on the floor, and after you warned him about it, your face fell as Bucky stepped directly in the middle of the puddle of almond milk. He was fuming, the incident wiped any traces of happiness off his face. He mumbled something about that being the last pair of comfy socks he had left and something about Tony's devices being a constant pain in the ass.

He went on and on until you ambushed him with kisses up his neck and shoved your hands under his shirt. In an instant his bickering turned into soft giggles as he innocently relaxed under your touch. You eventually cleaned up the mess and tried to make yourself busy. Nothing worked, you weren't in the mood for anything and at the same time, even though you did absolutely nothing all day, you felt a wave of tiredness envelop you.

At about 4pm, and you Bucky had already been lazily laying in bed, a mess of tangled limbs under the fluffy duvet. Your conversation started from the tactical gear he swore would look better on you than on him and then wondered how you didn't know how to sow.

"I'll hit you" you threatened.

"I'm sorry" he laughed, holding onto your forearm as it was resting on his chest, "But you know how much I love it when you get angry at my misogynistic jokes"

"It's rude" you scoffed - you didn't mean his jokes, but the fact that when he grew up, women were not anywhere near where they are today.

"You know I don't mean it"

"I know you don't" you laughed, "Otherwise I'd have actually hit you"

"Don’t worry" Bucky said, "I'd hit myself if I was that stupid"

"Cute" you smiled, kissing his shoulder. Looking up at him, you promoted your chin against his chest, "Do you miss it? The 40s i mean"

He thought about it for a second. "Nah" there was a bit of nostalgia in his tone, but you believed him. "I've kinda made my peace with the fact that everyone from my old life is gone. I wouldn't want to go back now. I got you. I got all of you guys. I'm good now, really good"

"I'm glad" you beamed, feeling yourself warm up from the inside just thinking of the progress he made. After a few seconds, you spoke up again, "But what about the society? Like the day to day life? How do you like the 2010s?"

"I can't lie" Bucky laughed, "I liked Romania better. Much simpler."

"You lived in a dead beat apartment, hiding everyday" you scoffed, "How was that better?"

"I don't know… maybe it was the simple life. Apparently I'm all about that"

"You'd move back there?"

"If you came with me?" he questioned, looking down at you. There was genuine sincerity in his eyes and a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. "Wouldn’t even think twice"

"Maybe one day" you sighed with content. You snuggled back against his side, and closed your eyes. "We're not done avenging yet" you mumbled.

He didn't say anything to that. You didn't know whether he was getting lost in thoughts or if he was starting to drift off, but you would have been fine with either. When he spoke up again, you didn't expect the conversation to take this route.

"About Romania…" he sighed, "What made you come with Steve back in 2016?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean-" he muttered, rubbing his light stubble, "I know why Steve came-" Bucky chuckled, "And Sam's all up his ass, so there's that. But what about you?"

"I-"

"I'm aware of the rift I caused between you guys back then. So that's why I'm asking. What made you stand by Steve from the beginning?"

"I knew how much you meant to him. And I know how this is going to sound, but I felt sorry for you, Buck. I know what it's like to be alone, to have everyone turn against you. You deserved better"

"Love-?" he called softly, his voice nearly breaking. "What do you mean you know what it's like to have everyone turn against you?"

As you maintained the eye contact, you felt tears prickle, "I know it wasn't fair of me to keep my past a secret, but-"

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to-" he said softly, his eyes warm. The pain was readable on his features, he hated how your whole demeanour changed.

"It's not that I don't want you to know, it's just that I hate talking about it. Gives me nightmares."

"Then we can just drop it" Bucky murmured, gathering you closer.

"I wish you could know without me telling you" you laughed, "You make everything better and easier. I should've told you, I know. It isn't fair to you. We've been together for almost two years but as far as you're concerned I didn't exist until I joined the avengers. I don't even know how much they know. We never talked about it"

"Love, listen to me. I'm here whenever you want to talk about it. You didn't do anything wrong. There are a lot of things about me that you don't know either. We're not those people anymore. No one can blame us for trying to escape out past"

"Yeah, you're right" you sighed.

Gathering your power, you pushed yourself up and settled beside him, with your legs crossed. You grabbed his hand pulling it into your lap, and intertwined your fingers with his as you spoke.

"Forget the official story, there's no truth to it anyway"

"I really didn't believe your mum was a criminal and that you were in a mental asylum" he joked.

"Good-" you smiled, his words lifting the atmosphere a bit. "Truth is, I don't know anything about my parents. But I have my assumptions. I grew up in that soviet facility so I never met them. I was told it was owned by a group of socialite scientists who wanted our help"

"Our? Who's we?"

"There were 7 of us"

"Did they have the same power as you?"

"Approximately. When we were younger, we used to comply and do everything we were told but as we grew up, things started to change. We weren't happy. Who could be? Considering we were being held in cells and studied like lab rats. We started to act differently and some might even say we tried to rebel, but that didn't work obviously, and that's when the restrictions began. For the last 3 years I spent there, there hadn't been a day where the temperature passed 0°C."

Your skin crawled as you recaled the endless nights you spent shivering your way to sleep. Everything around you was ice cold. But it wasn't for the sole purpose of torturing you. It was your only weakness. As the temperature dropped, so did the movement of the atoms that made up your body - eliminating your powers to the point where you were barely alive.

"One day, as spring came, we wanted to break out. We made a plan, and figured that as soon as we were out, we'd be fine. We were wrong. We were off about the weather and they got us before we even exited the perimeter. That's when the avengers heard about us."

By now, Bucky's eyes were wide with genuine curiosity, his mouth agape as he took in the information you provided. With every word you spoke his grip tightened around your fingers and his eyebrows gathered even further. There was discomfort and anger in his features, but he didn't interrupt you once.

"After that, the restrictions got tougher. We realised there was no way out. A lot of things came together in that small time frame. I realised what that place actually was days after we tried to escape. My friends - or that's what I thought they were, figured out another plan. Why fight when you can just eliminate the premise?"

Bucky moved his lips but no words came out. He cleaned his throat and sat up a bit, "What- what do you mean?"

"They tried to kill me" you said, plastering a sympathetic smile on your lips, hoping it would make it easier for him to hear.

"What the fuck. Why?"

"I think my dad used to be part of that team. And I think he made me the way I am. Now I don't know why he wasn't around anymore, but that team wasn't trying to get us to do anything. They were trying to make more of me. So if I was dead-"

"There would be no reason to keep the other kids…" Bucky finished the sentence for you.

You nodded.

"And what happened?"

You bowed your head trying to find a way to put your words together. Bucky didn't rush you, just reassuringly rubbed his thumb across your knuckles, waiting. When a tear from your cheek slipped and landed on the back of his hand, you looked up and took a deep breath. "I killed them. All of them."

He didn't say anything. Didn’t move a muscle, as he waited for you to continue.

"I didn't even want to do that, Buck" you sobbed, breaking down. "I killed over 20 people because I was afraid. I didn't even move. I was in the corner of my room the whole time, but everyone who approached me was fried to death. I don't even know how I did that. I was just scared"

"Oh, baby" Bucky cooed, pushing himself up to wrap his arms around you. You fell against his chest, crumbling in his embrace. "I hope you know that was not your fault, ok?" he asked, rubbing your back. "You were just a kid, alone and afraid. It breaks my fucking heart, those bastards. Please don't feel sorry for them"

"I feel sorry for the other kids"

"They tried to kill you, Y/n" Bucky countered, "If you hadn't killed them, I would've gone after them. All of them"

"They were desperate..."

"So were you!"

"I can't help but feel like a monster sometimes, you know? Like I'm reckless and out of control. There are times when I'm all happy and excited about what tomorrow would bring, and then i remember what I did, and I have a hard time fighting away the thoughts that try to tell me I don't deserve that"

"What you deserve is the fucking world ok?" Bucky said, tilting your chin so you could see just how serious he was. "This past couple of years, you saved hundreds of lives and I know for a fact you did it out of the pure kindness of your heart, not because you wanted to make up for anything in the past. You're a fucking angel. You're the embodiment of good, you hear me? I know you. You'll never understand how much respect I have for you, and how in awe I am with the kind of person you are. Please, don't ever think less of yourself. Ever, ok?"

Tears rolled down your cheeks as his words proved to be much more than you were able to hear at that moment. "Thanks, Buck. That's sweet of you to say-"

"It's not sweet of me to say, it's the fucking truth" he scoffed, but he somehow managed to make it sound loving. "You didn't even fucking try, but just being around you made me feel like a person again. You're amazing, Y/n. We're all lucky to have you. I'm lucky to have you."

"You're gonna make me cry" you sniffled, curling yourself into a ball against his chest, "I know you were in a dark place when we met. I'm glad I managed to help you through it"

"You pulled me through it" he sighed, tightening his hold around you. "I went from wanting to die, to thinking that I didn't even deserve the easy way out. Look at me now."

"Buck, stop"

"I love you so fucking much" Bucky laughed.

His whole frame shook as he pulled you back down, safely holding you between his arms, "You're amazing" he added, kissing the top of your head, "Perfect"

"I said, stop" you chuckled, slapping his side, "I get it, you like me, can we-"

"I adore you" Bucky cut you off after grabbing the sides of your face between his palms. "And thanks for trusting me. I know it wasn't easy for you to talk about your past, so thank you. I'm always here for you. If there's anything ever, I got you, ok? Forever"

"I got you too" you added, kissing his cheek and then moving along his jawline, "No matter what happens, you'll always have me on your side. I'm all yours, Bucky"

"Yeah, you are, doll. All mine"

After that talk, how you managed to fall into a deep sleep will always remain a mystery. Nightmares didn't make their way into your mind, and you settled for a dreamless slumber, actually fully content for the first time in a long while.

But not everybody processed grief the same way. And if Bucky mentioned earlier that he was lucky to have you, as you were pulled out of your sleep, you realised that he wasn't as lucky as you were when it came to the mysteries that creep up on you when you least expect them.

"Wake up sunshine"

The sound reached your ears, but it wasn't Bucky's voice, so you just groaned in response and rolled over to the other side, completely pressing your face into the pillow.

"Buttercup, it's time to wake up"

The voice seemed uneasy, as if the person speaking was actually terrified. You opened your eyes wearily, and were met with the usual, complete darkness of your room.

"Come on, Y/n" they spoke again. You turned to see one of Tony's maintenance robots hovering above your body, one small screen lit up on its front. Blinking a few times to rid yourself of the sleep still lingering in your eyes, you managed to make out the faces of Tony and Steve, both staring at you.

"What's going on?" you mumbled.

"You've got incoming," Tony announced, and then shook his head at whatever someone next to him had said. The microphone wasn't performant enough for you to hear what the other person said, but it was not like you cared.

"Incoming what?" you questioned, still confused out of your mind.

He turned his attention back to you, "The asshole"

You frowned and Steve scoffed, "Y/n, it's Bucky. He's not well"

"Wh-" you mumbled, your head snapping to the side, only then realising his side of the bed was empty. You shuffled your arm around the sheets, still warm. "What- what happened?"

"He's gone rogue, Y/n" Steve announced, genuine worry and guilt audible in his voice, "You need to make sure he doesn't leave. You need to stop him"

Tony's workstation. You needed to get the shackles off your arms if you wanted to stand a chance, "Tony? How do I take these off?" you asked, pointing to your cuffs.

"Already taken care off" he nodded, "Get to my desk, it's unlocked. All you need to do is actually get there. If you can"

"If I can-?" you began asking, but a loud explosion sound cut you off, causing the bed to shake as a wind blew through your room. "What the fuck!?"

"He may have found the grenade launchers" Tony smiled bitterly.

"Y/n," Steve called for you, "Please, be careful. And call us. Me and Nat will take the jet but I don't know-"

"Don't worry" you shook your head, jumping off the bed and rushing to your closet. You chose the first clothes you saw laying before your eyes and put them on, ready to go look for Bucky. "I got this, I promise"

"Oh, and Y/n?" Tony said, making you turn to him at the last minute, "Try not to fry my tower"

You nodded and refrained from making any promises you didn't know you could keep.

As soon as you walked out the door, the sound of automatic rifles going off became deafening. Stepping over piles of broken glass, you made your way to the emergency staircase, heading to Tony's lab. You did so with maximal caution, knowing that if you were spotted, there would be no going back.

Descending the last remaining flight of stairs until his work station, a rush of adrenaline surged through you, knowing just how close you were. Silently rounding the corner, your eyes landed on Bucky's frame, easily holding one of the remaining SHIELD agents up by the neck.

He turned to look at you, eyes cold and empty. Not even rage. There was nothing there. No expression, no empathy, no feeling. It was as if he was dead. This wasn't him.

"Buck-" you panted, raising your hands up in the air, signaling surrender. You eyed Tony's desk, determined to stall him until you managed to free yourself of the cuffs.

You took a cautious step to the side, hands still up in the air. Bucky watched you as the man struggled against his hold, legs spasming uncontrollably as he kicked and squirmed, even though it was so clearly in vain.

"Don’t mind me-" you smiled, sweat flooding your pores as you slowly approached your destination. "I'll just-"

"You'll just what-?" Bucky groaned, flinging his victim with impeccable ease. The agent's body flew across the room, crushing into the only device that had the power to help you get through this. As the work station crumpled under his weight, so did your hopes of getting out of this.

"Bucky, hey-" you mumbled, afraid of pissing him off, "I-"

"Who the hell is Bucky?" he frowned, starting to march towards you. Your blood ran cold, knowing you didn't have what it took to keep up with him. You were never able to dodge anyone's blows, let alone his. When he reached you, his hand instantly reached around your neck, lifting you off the floor, "SHIELD?" he asked after taking a look at your attire. Although not carrying the emblem, it was probably the only explanation that made sense to him.

"Well, um-" you huffed, holding onto his wrist in hopes of not running out air, "No, not SHIELD"

"Then who are you?" he growled, tightening his hold on your windpipe.

"Fuck-" you gasped, kicking your legs, even through he didn't even flinch when you hit him. "You're not gonna believe this but, um-"

"Try me"

You looked into his eyes, hoping it would serve as some kind of a memento, that maybe he'd remember you. "You know me, Buck. It's Y/n, I'm- your girlfriend?"

Even saying it made you feel weird. This killing machine, apparently hell bent on wrecking havoc, was not the man you loved, and you cringed just imagining his reaction to hearing your words.

And it did turn out to be worse than expected, as he spun around, doing a complete 180° with your body before slamming you down on the floor. The wood cracked under your bones, knocking the wind out of you. The pain of the impact was excruciating, propagating along your body in waves of some physical agony you had never felt before. The sound of your bones cracking made you sick to your stomach. Your ears caught the sound of your arteries being torn as your organs collapsed.

And if you felt every inch of your body being shattered and destroyed, it was God's way of making you pay for your parent's mistakes, as when your wounds healed mere seconds later, the pain did not go away. Your nerve receptors still registered damage to the tissues, and no matter whether you were actually as good as new, your brain couldn't process that.

What consumed you the most was the fact that as you struggled to stand up, the pain of broken limbs lingered on. But you fought through it, gathered yourself and stood up, facing him again.

You winced with every muscle contraction, but eventually your eyes met his. He showed curiosity, along with something else. Something else which you wished wasn't determination to finish you.

"Can we-" you whimpered, extending a hand, "Can we talk?"

"Talk!?" Bucky raged, grabbing your wrist and twisting your arm to the point where he spun you around, your back pressing against his chest. "Not here to talk" he growled into your ear.

The hairs on your body stood as you heard his voice. Even though it was technically the same voice you loved more than anything in the world, it made you now shiver with a fear you've never experienced before.

You didn't get a chance to sink too deep in your thoughts before Bucky raised your arm, dislocating your shoulder and busting your humerus into pieces. The pain cut your legs at the knees and you screamed in agony, falling to the floor at his feet.

"Stand up" he commanded, slamming his foot into your side. The momentum made your body roll away, until you settled back on the ground, face deep in the rubble. Your muscles pulled you to your feet with ease, but the pain coursing through you was immense, nowhere near close to what you thought bearable. You felt the skin being ripped from your body and when you looked down, your clothes were torn, soaked in blood, but your skin was intact. It was what you needed to keep going - to get inside your head the fact that you were fine, because at this point, the pain was one bruise away from making you faint.

"Bucky, please-" you cried.

"Stop calling me Bucky!" he yelled, starting to approach you again.

With every step he took, you slowly backed away. "Please, listen to me, just a second, please!"

He shook his head no, a demented smile on his lips as he closed in on you.

"Bucky-"

As a reply to your question, his fist flew up, slamming into your jaw, hard enough to throw you to the ground, "Why do you keep calling me-"

"What else do you want me to call you, huh?" you yelled at him, vision blurred under too many layers of tears. "Tell me, and I'll do it if it'll get you to listen to me."

"I don't want you to call me anything-" he cocked his head to the side, unstrapping a handgun from his thigh. He loaded it as you barely managed to crawl away, "You can take the pain. I respect that. Let's see how well you do with these lead bullets"

You saw them in slow motion, barely managing to duck your head behind the remains of what once was a heavy wooden bookshelf. The bullets missed your chest and face, but you saw them, felt them penetrate your skin, ripping through your muscles.

The sound of your tissues being pulled to shreds made you feel sick to your stomach. As the bullets left your body, your wounds closed back up, leaving you a crying mess on the floor. Your throat constricted due to the wave of shock that hit your body, and your lungs started hyperventilating. Lightheaded and gasping for air, you struggled to crawl away from him, tears marching down your face and ending up on the floor, nothing but diluting the droplets of blood that had fallen from your body mere minutes before. Your heart was in overdrive and your vision blurred as every fiber of your being threatened to let you down. "Please-" you screamed, your voice breaking as you raised your hand for him, "Let's talk, please. That's all I want. Give me a minute"

But he didn't. He didn't even consider it. Instead, the force that controlled the body of the only man that ever managed to make you feel safe, tortured, destroyed and consumed your body for what felt like the better part of an eternity.

You had been thrown through walls, shattered windows, had glass shards lodged into your body from all angles. He unloaded cannon after cannon on you, used up all the ammo he had on him, only growing more and more annoyed when you refused to give up.

There was no way to know how much time had passed. Now you were standing by the window, inches away from the spot where two nights ago, you and Bucky clicked your glasses, smiling at how far you both had come. He laughed, saying he wouldn't have made it without you. And then he kissed you, confessing that the thought that maybe you couldn't have made it without him either, was what kept him going.

And then there you were. 48 hours later, again, just the two of you. But now there weren't any champagne glasses between you, just his metal arm, wrapped around your neck, this time, as he said, for the last time.

"I don't get it-" he scowled, teeth gritted and frustration in his voice, "Why don't you fight me?"

"I can't fight you" you whimpered as your tears poured down against his cold hand, "And even if I could, I wouldn't."

"WHY?" Bucky screamed, and for a second, you thought you saw a crack there, a glister of emotion hidden deep in his otherwise beautiful eyes.

"Because I love you" you cried.

But there was none. He rolled his eyes and pushed you back, your body slamming into the window. You should've thought faster, been more witty and considerate, but terror washed over you and in the heat of the moment, you grabbed onto him for dear life, pulling him down with you, plummeting to the ground from what looked like the 70th floor of the Stark Tower.

If until now you had been afraid of what you'd have to endure, it was now that you met true terror. You'd survive the fall, but he wouldn't.

Even in the air, approaching the ground at a dangerous speed, he kept fighting you. Even in this state, you admired his determination - he had a job and wanted to get it done - even if that job was killing you. A man of his word.

By now, the pain was unnoticeable. If you wanted to keep him alive you had to act fast. Clinging to his body despite his vicious protests and ruthless blows, you used your momentum to turn the two of you around. And you did so at the last second, as before you knew it, your bodies crashed into the boulevard below, sinking down into the asphalt as it crumpled under your weight.

The impact cut your breath away and there was a gnawing feeling all over your body, as if you had blades under your skin, pulling your body apart fiber by fiber. But you snapped out of it.

"Bucky!" you yelled, slapping his cheek.

He had fallen completely on top of you, his head pressed against your chest. He didn't move and the continuous buzz in your ears made it physically impossible for you to tell whether he was breathing for not.

"Bucky, please-" you cried, trying to move him so you could see his face.

Nothing.

"No, no, no!!" you screamed, "You can't die, baby, please! Not like this, love. Please come back to me, Buck, I'm begging you!!"

You remained there and wailed, with him glued to your chest. Your arms had wrapped around his motionless frame, keeping him as close as you could. Nothing could have gotten you to stop. Tens of people gathered around the crater your fall created around your bodies, police showed up, cameras were pointed at your faces, but you didn't care. If he died, so would you.

"You're all I have, baby-" you muttered, voice hoarse and dry from all the wailing and crying, "Please, you can't leave me. This can't be the end of us. Please, I don't know what to do, Bucky, please!"

You were soaked. In blood, and you didn't even know whether it was his or yours. God, how you hoped it all belonged to you, how the pool of blood you laid in was all yours. Tears soaked your face, pouring down your temples as your whole frame shook with your sobs, that was the true agony. You'd rather spend the rest of your days fighting for your life if it meant he got to see the sun again. You wished he'd hate you, rather than not feel anything at all ever again.

"Please-" you said again but this time your voice didn't even reach your own ears, you didn't hold that power anymore, "Please, you need to come back! You deserve so much better than this. You're the best man I have even known, you can't die like this, not today, Bucky. Not today!"

By now, the people around you had scattered. They knew your identities and for all the wrong reasons, feared you both. You were grateful for that now, you were alone with him again, as the sun began to set and a chilly New York night began to settle.

Still, you didn't move. You still had faith. Or you were just stubborn. There was no way you'd pull away until someone either pried him off of you against your will, or someone that you trusted showed up promising they'd help.

None of them came, and you remained there, cradling his frame to your chest begging whatever God was listening, to bring him back. You didn't know if one of them heard you, or if it was just blind luck or fate, but you only realised his metal arm was lodged under your body when he moved it.

"Buck!" you cried, cupping his cheeks in your bloodied palms as literal life cursed through your veins. "Oh god, you're ok, you're alive!! You came back to me!"

You managed to hug him close one more time, before he pushed himself off of you. In the process of standing up, his eyes met yours for the briefest second. Again, nothing.

He gathered himself to his feet, wordlessly bending down to grab your hair. He forced you up and you instantly obliged, following him back into the building.

Once inside, he knocked you through a glass door, your body once again absorbing his fury. The pain had dissipated into a dull ache, and this time, you stood up faster. "I can do this all day" you sighed, the lie slipping past your lips with such ease, as if the energy inside your core wasn't running dangerously low.

"What did you just say?" he questioned.

He seemed taken aback, "I said that I can do this all day"

"Who are you?" Bucky yelled, marching towards you, determined to get answers out of you through nothing else but brute force. He slammed you back onto the floor, only to straddle your thighs and pick you up by the collar of your shit. "Why won't you just fucking die!?"

Circling your fingers around his wrists, you searched for his eyes, "Wanna know what keeps me alive?"

"Are you stupid enough to tell me?"

"I might be" you shook your head, "but I'll still tell you"

"Why?"

"Because I know you won't kill me" you cried, "I know you know me. I know you're in there somewhere. The man I love. I know you don't have it in you to kill me"

"Try me" he laughed, drunk with the power you were so willing to give him.

"These-" you panted, raising your arms in the air to show him your cuffs, "These are what's been keeping me alive but I know you won't-"

But you never finished the sentence. He didn't even think twice before ripping them off your arms and throwing them onto the floor, along with all the other mess you two had made.

You never thought he'd actually spare you. So it wasn't a surprise when the first thing he did after freeing you, was reach for his knife with the sole purpose of driving it through your chest.

But you were faster. You framed his face into your palms, releasing the energy from your body and allowing it to flow through his. It felt weird, wrong and chaotic, and the power surge wiggled itself out of your control, until a blast between your bodies sent you both flying back across the room, falling down onto the floor.

And this time none of you stood up.

"I leave them alone for what, a day?" Tony sighed, walking out of his Iron Man suit.

"Holy shit!" Steve cried out, his knees betraying him as he tried to rush to you.

"No, wait!" Nat stopped him, "You can't wake them up until we get them somewhere safe. We need to make new cuffs for Y/n, and find a way to keep Bucky contained in case, you know… he's still not Bucky"

Steve was fuming with anger, nostrils flaring, "These are my friends you're talking about!" he exclaimed, pointing to your bodies on the floor, "Your friends too, Nat. You see them like this and the first thing you think about is restraining them!?"

"We need to make sure we're all safe" she sighed with sympathy, grabbing his hand for a comforting rub.

"You make sure you're safe-" Steve scoffed, "I'll make sure they're alive"

"Hey-" Nat stopped him, "If you touch her and startle her in any way, you die!"

Her words hurt him but he knew you never would. Steve felt his heart shutter just imaging what you must have gone through. He was ablaze with pure determination to prove Nat wrong, and to do right by you and Buck. "I carried her in my arms while she was passed out when we rescued her from that facility-" he fummed, pointing at you, "She never knew a man that didn't try to hurt her before. And when she woke up, she was afraid. Scared for her life. She cried in my arms and begged me to not let them take her again! She was never anywhere close to hurting me! She's good. So good. There's only good inside of her, I trust her to not hurt me more than I trust myself, ok? If I'm wrong, so be it. I die. I don't care. She deserves someone to look after her. If I had to chose, saving her would be the way I'd want to go"

His rant left Nat speechless. She just gave him a simple nod and stepped back.

Carefully, he picked you up and carried you upstairs, as Tony put his suit back on and carried Bucky.

Never in your life had you woken up this fast. Your eyes snapped open and you sprung to your feet. 3 pairs of anxious eyes watched you, all of them ready to jump into action in case the situation called for an intervention.

"What-" you gawked, scanning the room, "Where is Bucky? Is he- is-"

"He's fine, Y/n" Steve assured you. He stood up and slowly approached you, arms outstretched. Your first instinct was to go for it, but when you reached him, you placed both your hands in his, and looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Are you sure?" you whimpered, "Can I see him?"

Sympathy took over his features, but Tony jumped in, "Absolutely not"

"What-" you turned to him, "Why? Did I-?"

"You didn't do anything wrong" Steve hummed, engulfing you in a hug even though you remained stiff in your spot. He rubbed your back, eager to soothe your worried mind, but you were too out of it.

“Can I just go?” you whispered, pulling back just enough so that he could see how serious you were, “I need to see him, please”

“Are you mad at him?” Nat asked with caution and your face fell.

“No!” you gasped, stepping away from Steve’s embrace, “No, not even one bit. I know that was not him, I know it’s not his fault. But when Bucky wakes up-”

“If he wakes up-” Tony sneered, roaming around the room. He nursed a glass of whiskey, as a mixture of disgust and exhaustion was readable on his features.

“When he wakes up!” you spoke through gritted teeth. Determination coated your words and the hairs on your body stood as you refused to even think of the alternative. “He will wake up. And I have to be there”

“What if the Winter Soldier wakes up?” Nat asked.

“That didn’t stop me last time”

“Oh, no!” Tony butted in, stepping in between you and Nat, arms outstretched, “You know I’m not one to cry after money, but you and your pal left me with $37 million worth of damage. You two are one broken cup away from getting thrown into the streets”

The sum he mentioned made the skin on your back crawl. You didn’t even have $37 dollars to your name, but it made sense. Your body alone crashed through three TV’s, one gamma ray projector and if you thought about it, you remembered Bucky pulling apart one of the Iron Legion robots, and only the thought made you flinch.

“So-” Tony said, “You two? Never in the same room again!”

“Take these off then” you suggested, pointing at the cuff on your wrists.

“Ha” Tony exclaimed, “A big chunk of that money comes from you frying all my electronics up until the 12th floor. Absolutely not”

“Tony, I’m serious” you whined, “He will hate himself. I need to be there! I need to make sure he doesn’t take all the blame on his shoulders”

He frowned, and sighed. He wasn’t an unreasonable man, and you hoped that core deep inside his chest really made up for a heart. And… it did. None of them were happy about it, but they finally accepted. Nat and Tony would have never probably given up if it wasn’t for Steve - right now, like so many times before, he really did seem like your guardian angel.

They ended up monitoring the room, and Tony waited for your signal, one hand on his cigarette, the other on the Iron Man suit. He was all talk - if anything was to go down and you would actually be in danger again, he wouldn’t even think twice before tearing his towers into pieces if it meant he could get you out alive.

And so you left, thanked them in the form of a simple nod, and headed down the dark hallways.

Oh, how you hated this.

What consumed you now had nothing to do with the pain you had endured in the past 24 hours. Its source was not physical, yet your whole body ached. You felt the weight of the world on your shoulders - and in some way, it was - Bucky was your whole world, and the fear of losing him breathed down your neck.

It had been about 20 minutes since you stopped in front of the door that led to the room he'd been confined in. When FRIDAY announced that Bucky woke up, you rushed over, only for a hazardous sense of anguish to stop you dead in your tracks. Judging by the way he sat in the corner of the room, his fingers aimlessly tracing every indentation in the handcuffs Tony had restrained him with, you had no problem telling which one of him woke up. He broke your heart. His room was equipped with 5 different cameras and 2 microphones. Completely unaware of them, he sat inches away from one, and your heart shattered, sinking 3 stories below when you heard him whimper.

It was soft and quiet. His whole frame shook as he wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve. He was hunched down, brown hair covering his perfect face, but still, his sadness brought you to tears.

You heard him again. He sniffled as he laid back against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot, lips almost white and dry as his chest raced up and down. His muscles clenched and his feet bounced against the metal floor, it was a sight you never wished you see ever again.

Softly, you raised a hand, and thought twice before finally knocking.

"Go away," Bucky called, voice all hoarse and dry as it broke halfway through.

You were able to see him on the small screen next to the door, but he had no idea who came to visit.

Out of instinct, you knocked again before typing in the password and ever so slowly walking inside.

Instantly, he looked up. He was surrounded by an air of darkness and despair, ever so obviously tormented to the peak of his capability.

He stared at you for a few seconds as his eyes watered, and then he gathered his lips into a straight line, shaking his head. "Please, go"

"Bucky, I-"

"Please" he cried, head falling forward as he toyed with the metal edges of his prosthetic arm. He shook his head, "Please, don't do this. Just, go"

You took a deep breath, only then entering the room far enough to actually be able to close the door behind you. Slowly turning back to him, your palms sweated as you had no idea what to say to him.

"Can you talk to me, Buck? Please?"

He chuckled, "About what?"

"About whatever it is you think you did wrong, I-"

As he heard your words, his hands instantly flew up to cover his face. He was, however, stopped, as the cuffs on his left wrist kept him from moving too much. While a new row of tears flooded his cheeks, his eyes met yours, "Look at me.. I need to be restrained while you're alone with me"

"Those cuffs would literally do nothing to stop you from escaping, and you know it"

"Maybe it's just a sense of reassurance"

"To who?" you scoffed.

"To them" Bucky responded, nodding his head towards one of the cameras. "I'm a monster" he added, wiggling his cuff restrained hand, "I'm a danger to everyone"

"Oh for fucks sake" you rolled your eyes, marching up to him. With absolutely no remorse, you grabbed his hand and harshly pulled apart the metal that had him restrained to the bed. Before he got a chance to say anything, you bent down, unclipped the microphone from the foot of the bed, threw it on the floor, and stepped on it, until it was nothing but a small pile of shattered plastic.

And you kept going, destroying the second microphone along with the 5 cameras on the walls as Bucky watched you with surprise. You finished by going for the door and locking it from the inside. "You think I'm afraid of you?" you asked softly, "For 6 hours you did your best to kill me and failed miserably. Look at me, I'm unscathed"

"Did you hear yourself?" he cringed, shaking his head, "I tried to kill you"

"Ok, I know I said that you did your best-" you said, mentally scolding yourself for the error in communication. "We both know that wasn't you. That wasn't you, Buck. It was Hydra. It was the winter soldier, not you. My Bucky would never-"

"Y/n-" he stopped you, "I know you don't see things the way I do-"

"But I see them the right way"

"Listen-" Bucky sighed, driving his hands through his hair. For the first time that night you actually saw his full face, his cheek and signature scowl, his blue eyes and the tilt of the corner of his mouth - your soul melted when you associated the picture with the words that came out of his mouth. "I can't blame you for being here. I can't. If the roles were reversed, I'd be doing the exact same thing. But, holy fuck-" he sighed, pausing to gather his thoughts. Bucky looked you up and down. His lips quivered and his head fell to the side as a sad smile appeared on his lips. "Remember this morning? How we talked about our hypothetical child?" he laughed and shook his head, "Even if I know we could never have a kid because we're both sterile, it was still the most beautiful thought that ever crossed my mind, Y/n''

"Mine too, Buck-"

"And what did I do?" he dismissed your empathy, "Two hours later I was unloading an AK-47 into your stomach, like the brainwashed maniac that I am!"

"Don’t say that!" you exclaimed, "Don't you dare think about things like this!"

"Why wouldn't I?" he threw his hands up in the air, "What does it matter whose fault it is? I get to live with the consequences."

"But-" you breathed out, "We can work through this. You did it before. You can't let something that hydra did dictate your life, Bucky. You deserve so much better. You deserve to be happy!"

"I tried to kill you!" he screamed, for the first time losing his calm and standing up to be at the same level as you.

"That was not you!"

"So what?" he huffed, "I was there, Y/n! I will never, NEVER get the feeling of crushing your bones out of my head! I felt your neck snap! I choked you with my arms! That is not something I can live with! I can't live a life by your side if every time I look at you I'm reminded of those horrible things I did to you!"

"Buck-" you cried, looking at him from behind too many layers of unshed tears, "Please, don't say that"

"I'm sorry" he responded in the same fashion, his pain coating every word he said. "When I close my eyes I see you laying in a puddle of blood. I can't stop hearing your screams of agony. Agony that no matter how you put it, was caused by my hands. That's not something we can live with, Y/n. You were not made for this. You really do fucking deserve someone that won't wake up one day and try to murder you in cold blood"

"And what do you deserve, Buck?" you quietly asked, searching for his eyes, "To live your life alone? Forever? If you had been with anyone else, this would have turned out so much worse. That cute barista three blocks down that always scribbles a heart on your coffee cup? She's cute, yeah. You deserve to be loved by someone, but if that someone was her, you wouldn't be drowning in guilt right now, Bucky, you'd be mourning her. Yes, you got troubles. Yes, you've got a past more fucked up than anyone else I have ever heard about. That's the kind of shit you can't change. But whatever you do from now on, is in your fucking hands and yours alone. Don't try to tell me you're not worthy of having someone, because that's the fattest load of crap I've ever heard. You're a good man! With a fucked up past! And a dark side that you need to fight! And you have me! I don't care you dropped Tony's piano on my legs, apparently I can take it! I'm here for you no matter what! You don't want to be with me anymore? Fine. But don't you dare push me away, thinking that a ruined future makes up for a ruined past"

"Who's to say I won't try it again?" he asked, "I don't know what triggered the transition. But what if once a week I end up trying to kill you-"

"Apparently you can't!" you laughed bitterly.

"Ok, so I can't" he nodded in approval, "Is that what you want? I should be your rock, your best friend, I should always be there for you. Do you want to have your whole world turned upside down whenever my brain decides to go berserk?"

"See, Buck" you sighed, "Of course I don't want that. I can't fucking stand here and tell you that I do. What kind of credibility would I have then? But you know what I want? You. You and whatever nazi shit that comes along. I want you. To help you. To have you with me. To see you everyday. If every Saturday at 10am you decide you want to kill me, you best believe I'm sacrificing my morning coffee just so we can kung fu around the living room"

He looked at you for a long second, the corners of his lips fighting a hard battle against the hint of a smile that started to show on his features. Eventually he caved and chuckled, shaking his head, "That was a bit funny"

"And fucking true," you cried, going for his hands and bringing them up to your chest. He winced, but you spoke up again, determined to not let his mind torture him.

"I love you, Bucky"

"How do you not hate me?" he choked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Can you seriously look at me and not get even the slightest instinct to run away?"

"Bucky..." you breathed out, cupping his cheek. "How could I run away when I've never seen you in more pain than right now?"

"You're an angel, you know that?"

"I've been called a lot of things" you giggled, "Angel isn't one of them, but if that's what you want, I'll take it"

"Come here" he whispered, wrapping his arms around your frame. He had you nuzzle against his chest, his hold keeping you tight and secure. His heart beat against your cheek and your eyes watered again. There wasn't one thing in the world you wouldn't do for that heart - to make sure it keeps beating, and that it keeps the man you love alive. And content, above all. All you wanted right now was for him to accept the things that happened. You wanted to take whatever weight he was carrying on his shoulders, and put it upon yourself. "I love you so much, Bucky" you cried against his chest as your hold tightened around him, "I hate to see you torn like this. I don't want anything to ever happen to you. It terrifies me. I love you with all that I am. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you. You deserve the world, baby"

"So do you" he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You felt his chest shake, a deep rumble echoed from the depths of his lungs. You looked up to see him fight back a sob, his eyes wide open, glossy and red, trained down on you, "I love you too much to do this, Y/n. I'm sorry, I don't think I can"

"No!" you gasped, pressing your face back against his shoulder, "Don't do that. You can't do that. No"

"We won't work, Y/n" Bucky said as he brought you even closer, "I can't look at you anymore. I can't look at you without dying inside. You don't want to live with me like that"

"Yes, I do!" you sobbed. "I'll work with anything you give me, I swear there is nothing more I want. Just you. Just you and me. Bucky, please don't do this"

He held you close for what felt like half a second, but rationally speaking, your legs were getting numb. You just stood there, clinging to his body, taking in his scent and listening to his breathing even out until he pushed you away. Oh, how you didn't want to let go. Ever. But you did, and choked back a sob as soon as you felt the cold air of the room brush against the part of your body that had been pressed to his.

"We should get some sleep, Y/n"

"Are you coming with me?" you whimpered, afraid of the answer he might give you.

Bucky shook his head, "I think I'll just sleep here tonight"

That broke you. The shock and terror cut your breath away. It felt impossible - the feeling of losing him. The amount of pain that surged through you. At that particular moment, you felt like cracking your chest open to grip your heart into your hand and pick apart the broken parts. But not even that felt good enough, you were fairly sure you'd be left with nothing. It felt like a slap across your cheek, like a cloth had been placed over your mouth and your legs cut at the knees. It felt like the end.

Optimistic by nature, not even you could deny the reason he wanted to sleep alone. It was clear as day.

"If-" you mumbled, tears coating your face at their own free will, voice shaking as you barely managed to articulate the words over the violent sobs that ripped their way out of your throat. "If I promise to not do anything to try and convince you to stay… can you promise me that in case you decide to leave, you'll come and tell me first?"

"Oh, doll" Bucky broke down all over again, throwing himself at you again. He collapsed on top of you, molding his body around yours. "I promise, angel"

You just nodded. That was all you could do. It took another few moments for you to gather yourself and stop wailing, but you did, and then, with nothing else other than a sad smile, you left.

Your feet carried you to your room, and you were ready to collapse on top of your bed. Eager to cuddle into his pillows. They smelled like that shower gel you got him and you hated it. You wanted his scent. Not even caring how ridiculous it sounded, you padded over to the chair in the corner of your bedroom, the one Bucky uses to discard all his worn clothes.

You wanted to find a shirt he wore, one that smelled exactly like you knew him, but before you reached the clothes pile, your attention was drawn to the window.

Steve was standing there, facing the busy streets outside, hands in his pocket and his head turned in your direction.

"I didn't see you, sorry" you gasped, as your eyes accommodated to the darkness.

"It's fine" he shook his head, "I just figured you'd turn on the lights, you know, like the normal people. Didn't think I'd scare you"

"Yeah, sorry" you sighed, plopping down on the edge of the bed. "I did even think about turning the lights on"

He didn't say anything, but you saw him nod. He knew your pain. He lost enough in his life, and seeing his best friend sink back into his darkness was surely not easy for him either.

"Is he ok?" Steve eventually asked.

You shook your head, "He's too good of a man to be ok"

"That is Bucky" he laughed, and you couldn't help but do the same. The irony.

Steve's curiosity was palpable in the room. Words could not describe the appreciation you had for him for respecting your boundaries and not pushing you in a moment like this. But he deserved to know.

You opened your mouth to explain to him what happened, but as your mind processed everything all over again, you broke down. "I think he's gonna leave-" you cried.

Steve was quick to gather you in his arms, engulfing you in a bear hug, helping you stand on your own two feet. "What do you mean?" he asked, concern tracing his tone.

"I understand him, I do. And I promised I won't try to get him to stay if he doesn't want to. But- but I should've done more, Steve. I should've shown him somehow how much I love him. But I'm afraid he'll leave, and I don't want to live-"

"Hey, hey, hey" Steve hurried to stop you, petting your head softly before urging you to look up at him. "Bucky loves you more than I ever thought possible, ok? There's no question about it. I'm sorry I'm doing this, but I think he'll postpone it anyway"

"What?"

"The man wants to marry you, ok?" Steve smiled, "He asked Tony if he had any work for him so he could raise money. Can you imagine how that went down? He was red like a tomato, but he didn't think twice. James Barnes used the computer to look for rings for you. The Bucky I know? Never would've done this. You brought to life a part of him that no one else has seen before. He loves you. With all that he is. And trust me when I tell you, he won't stand to be away from you. You're his whole world, Y/n. He's my best friend, trust me when I tell you this is something you'll work through. I'll help, we'll all help. You're not gonna lose him, Y/n. He's so beat up about all of this because he loves you this much. He's all yours. If he decides to leave, I need you to be strong because he will be back. I got him back 70 years later. You just need to trust him. Trust his heart, ok?"

"Oh my god" you cried, "I don't know what to say"

"Don’t say anything" he chuckled, "We've been through so much together. All of us. Even if we try, nothing pulls us apart, ok? How many times has Loki died, hm?"

"God, Steve!" you scoffed somewhat amused and pulled back just to hit him, "Did you seriously compare Bucky to Loki!?"

"It got you to smile, didn't it?" he laughed. "But I'm serious. You've both been through so much worse than this. You'll get through this one too. And in case you ever feel like you won't, I'm here, ok?"

"Ok…"

Funny as it all was, it worked. He calmed you down - to some extent. Gave you hope you didn't know existed. If it wasn't for Steve, you probably would have not been able to fall asleep. And even though dreams didn't visit you, and you never relaxed enough to actually get some rest, you just dozed off. All clothed and curled diagonally on the bed, you cuddled Bucky's pillow to your chest as your eyes slowly fell closed.

When you opened them again, it was still dark out. You had no idea what pulled you awake as you struggled to sit up on the bed, but then you heard Bucky's voice again, from the doorway.

"Y/n?"

“Buck?” you gasped, turning around. Only his silhouette was visible, head hung low and hands deep in his pockets. He was leaning against the doorway, silently awaiting your response.

Right then and there, you felt your world collapse. Steve’s monologue made you actually fucking believe things would be fine, but here he was, keeping his promise. In the buttcrack of night, he kept his word, bidding you a much feared farewell.

“Is-” you sobbed, jumping out of bed and rushing towards him. You almost knocked him off of his feet when you flung yourself at him, but he was quick to reciprocate, caging you between his arms. “Is this it? You’re leaving?”

He didn’t say anything which frankly made everything worse. You broke down even further, clinging to his shirt as if it was the only source of oxygen keeping you alive - it sure felt like it.

“Look at me” Bucky urged you, tilting your chin up, “Please?”

You slowly lifted your head, your eyes meeting his.

“I’m sorry, I will make it up to you” he whispered, a frown settling above his tired eyes, “You’ll see”

“What does that even mean?" you questioned, tired and sick of this ongoing conflict that should not even have been an issue to begin with. "You don't have to make up for anything"

"I know you see things like that" he cooed, rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. He spoke softly, his breath fanning against your skin, somehow, even in this situation, managing to calm you down. "But you can understand me too, right?"

"I don't want to" you shrugged, "I don't care. Why does it matter if I understand you or not if you're gonna leave anyway?"

"I'm not leaving, doll"

"What!?" you beamed, pulling away from his hold and grabbing his face in your palms, "You're not- but you're-"

His whole frame softened, "I'm not here to say goodbye, Y/n. I'm not going anywhere"

"Oh god" you gasped.

"Come on, come here" Bucky chuckled softly, bringing you back into his hold, "I'm staying here. I'm sorry for everything I put you through. You're the most badass woman I know and I managed to break you"

"I love you, Buck"

"I love you more, Y/n" he sighed, "I'll make everything right, I promise"

"Oh, fuck" you breathed out relieved, "Just do whatever you want, I don't care. You're here. That's all that matters."

"And we also need to teach you to fight-" he added, "For real. And find a way for you to take those goddamn shackles off in case this happens again"

"Tony won't be too happy about it" you laughed.

"Fuck if I care-" Bucky said strenly, pointing at you, "Next time, you need to be able to stop me. And fast"

"Maybe it won't happen again"

"Maybe not" Bucky nodded, "But if it does, we need to be ready"

"Thank you" you said, "I know I didn't play this right. I know I literally dismissed everything that you must have gone through today. I'm sorry"

"You don't get to be sorry" Bucky stopped you, "Not after-"

"Then you don't get to, either!"

"Meh" he shrugged, "We'll see"

"Bucky!"

"I love you" he laughed, bending down to pick you up. He planted his hands on the back of your thighs, picking you up with ease and walking you over to the bed. You plopped back against the fluffy mattress with a huff, and giggled as he crawled his way on top of you. Instantly, his lips met yours. It was exhilarating, the kind that made your chest ache. You moaned against his lips as love transpired through his touch. It was overwhelming and the first happy tears of the day streamed down your temples as you arched yourself against him.

"I'm so weak for you, fuck" Bucky groaned, his right arm reaching around your back and pressing you against his chest. "You're everything" he added as he kissed his way along your neck, "I'm all yours forever, Y/n. I love you too much"

"I'm here, baby" you moaned, hiding your face into his shoulder, "You're mine, Bucky. All mine."

His lips didn't leave your body as he pushed himself up just enough to be able to reach the buckle of his jeans. The sound made your core ache, and your mouth watered.

There was no patience in his movements. He barely pulled his jeans down to his knees before ridding you of your pajama pants. He lodged himself between your thighs, his mouth instantly back on yours again.

"Come on" you panted, steading your arms against his strong back. Your legs found their way around his frame, ready to pull him closer.

When Bucky guided his hands between your bodies to align the tip of his cock with your opening, you whimpered in anticipation. Agonisingly slow, he trailed his tip along your folds before reaching your clit. With a blissful moan, he reached further up, tapping his cock against your bare cunt a couple of times before returning his attention back to you.

"I got you, baby" he hummed, pecking your lips. "You ready? Is this ok?"

With eagerness, you nodded and wiggled under his weight, your pussy aching for him. "Yes, yes"

When you felt his cock push past your folds, you moaned out loud, your voice cracking with the pure pleasure that took over your being.

He eased himself in, going all the way until he all but knocked the breath out of you, and he stopped. Bucky reached down to kiss you again, his cock motionless, balls deep inside of you.

He bit down on your lip and you giggled.

"Felt your pussy clench around me, doll" he laughed, "You're good to me"

"You may be all mine, Buck, but I'm all yours too"

"Holy shit" he panted, shaking his head in disbelief. It was as if you weren't real. He'd have pinched himself, but if this was a dream, he really did not want to wake up. So he kept going.

Nibbling at the skin of your neck, he started to pull himself out of you. The slow pace was driving you insane. Your need grew so strong you felt everything. His breath, the way his hair tickled your chin, his strong around around your shoulders, his massive thighs rubbing against yours, every small vein along his cock that drove you closer and closer to the sweetest bliss you had ever known.

He got you all worked up at an agonisingly slow pace, before his thrusts became more and more aggravated. You moaned with each thrust despite your struggles to keep quiet.

"You know how much I love hearing you, doll" Bucky shook his head as he drove himself back inside of you all the way, "Moan for me"

"Fuck, ok" you gasped, and closed your eyes as you started to fall apart. You gripped the bed sheets into your hands and pulled as he kept fucking you, deep and hard.

"You're so good, baby" he groaned, "So, so good for me"

He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, fervently sucking deep, maroon marks all ice your skin. Gutural grounds betrayed his air of self control as a plethora of curse words escaped his lips. "Taking me so fucking well. I can't keep going like this, you're too fucking tight-"

"Cum, baby" you encouraged, voice low and tender as you spoke against his ear, "Cum for me"

"Don’t have to tell me twice" he chuckled.

His thrusts started to become sloppy and irregular, as his eyes flew closed. You missed the blue of his eyes, but his mouth was slightly agape as he panted his way to an orgasm.

His chest heaved against yours, "How do you feel so fucking good?" Bucky cursed, eyes still closed as he barely managed to mumble his words between the numerous grunts of pleasure that forced their way out of his throat.

You gave him no answer, instead just clung to him tighter, "Fuck, Bucky, I'm close-"

"Come on" he encouraged, hurrying to rub your clit. His fingers found your bud in an instant, working experienced, familiar circles that almost drove you over the edge. "Cum with me, ok?"

You nodded, gathering your lips between your teeth. He kept fucking you, harder and faster until he had turn limp under his weight. You came as his name rolled off your lips, and he followed seconds after, pumping his juices deep inside your pussy.

You felt his absolute pleasure as he breathed heavily against your shoulder. He kept going until you were both spent, and then fell down beside you.

"Bucky-" you whined, turning over and curling into his side, the lack of contact making you more needy than ever.

"Yes, darling?" he panted, tapping your chin.

"Nothing. I just love you"

"Love you too, doll" he huffed, spinning you around so you laid on your back.

He effortlessly helped you out of your shirt and plopped down on top of you, his head resting on your bare chest. His warm, right hand cupped your breast as he closed his eyes. He wrapped himself around you, "Hold me" he muttered, "please"

"Always, Bucky" you said, engulfing him in the tightest hold you could muster. Only then did you feel him calm down completely, and there was nothing in the world you could ever ask for.

If you liked it, please reblog and tell me what you thought? :)

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan smut

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jawritter · 4 years

Text

When The Lights Go Out

Part 1

Summary: Life hasn't been your best friend lately, you lost your job, and are on the verge of losing your apartment. Who knew when you decided to join a Sugar Daddy app that your best friend suggested ina last ditch effort to save your apartment, and not end up on the street, your first and only client would turn your whole world upside down.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean Winchester x Virgin! Reader

Word Count: 2358

Series Warnings: Mob level violence, injured Dean, description of injury, creepy Godfather John Winchester, John is pretty much a double bag, escort services, virgin reader, lose of virginity and all the insecurities and fun stuff that come with it, age gap (23 year old reader; 40 year old Dean), angst, unrequited/requited love?, language, smut, unprotected smut.

Chapter Warnings: None really, language, escort serives, angst? I think that’s it for this chapter!

A/N: Beta’d by @deanwanddamons! Thanks so much love!! Please don’t copy my work!! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one!! It’s gonna be a little bit of a slow burn y’all, but just hang in there!

(This fic is based on this request: Could you do a Dean x reader where she is 23 and lives alone in her apartment, she gets fired and can loose her house, her friend tells her about a sugar daddy app, she makes a profile and Dean 40, contacts her, she is virgin and don't offers sex, Dean is billionaire business man and needs a girl for his business parties,the reader is really shy, blushes a lot, they fall in love, he takes her to a trip and makes love to her on a private island, could it be a series?)

Want more? Check out my masterlist!!

***MASTERLIST***

***SERIES MASTERLIST***

Adjusting your too short skirt, you look across the crowded street from your hiding place among the crowd of people standing on the side of the road waiting for their cab, or Uber to pick them up from whatever they had just left, or take them to wherever they intend to go.

Heavy thunder rolled over head, and you looked up at the ominous black rolling clouds that from your street view made the skyscrapers look shorter than they really were.

Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears that it drowned out all the sounds of the hustle and bustle that was New York City on an average Friday night. Even though, in reality no one noticed you, you looked no different than about six other girls standing within a four foot proximity of you, you felt like every eye was on you. Like they were judging you, and knew just what you were doing, and just who you were waiting for.

Even though you weren’t meeting this man for sex, you felt like you were no better than the whores that line the streets of Brooklyn late at night, like cattle lined up for a sale barn to go to the highest bidder.

Claire had suggested that you join the Sugar Daddy App in order to make a few extra bucks after losing your job as a junior accountant at JP Morgan. You hadn’t been there all that long, and when they changed management, your new female boss seemed threatened by all the females in the office, especially those like yourself, those that were young, those that had potential; so therefore you got the first axe.

You didn’t really like the idea, but you were really left with no choice. Even though New York was a big city, it didn’t make jobs exactly easy to come by, and you need money before next Friday, or you would be living under one of the many bridges.

It hadn’t taken long for Dean to respond to your add on the app as a paid escort, and the fact that you weren’t offering sex didn’t seem to bother him when he’d direct messaged you. He said he just needed you to attend a business party with him, a promotion for his brother, and if you did well, he might hire you permanently.

Claire seemed to think that you had hit the jackpot, and told you to jump on the opportunity, but the amount of lucid information that he’d given you as far as what to wear, and that you were to just be on his arm to “look pretty”, you couldn’t help but feel you were dealing with the mob.

You knew that was a silly notion.There was only one mob left in New York that had enough power behind them to even be threatening. Everyone else was nothing but grunts under them, and there was no way in Hell a Winchester would be using a Sugar Daddy App in order to find someone to take to a business party with him.

Claire said not to worry about it, and that you were looking into things to much, that you had watched to many Scarface movies, and this was probably just a businessman who was in his forties, overweight, and lived in one of those box cublicial apartments on Manhattan with too much money, and not enough social life to bring someone to the event.

You had your doubts.

The way he worded things, so secretive, so proper, it had you scratching your head from the moment you agreed to this job as to whether or not this was a good idea, or if you were going to be the next featured picture on the back of a milk carton as New York’s latest missing person.

Just as you were about to say fuck it, and turn around and head back to your apartment, a sleek, black SUV pulled up to the curb and stopped. Looking around you notice that everyone that was standing next to you just a few moments ago had all but vanished, either getting into their own means of transportation, or giving up all together and deciding to hoof it.

The window directly in front of you rolled down just enough for the baritone voice to filter out of the dark interior of the car.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you stepped forward cautiously. If you weren’t regretting this before, you were now.

“Yes?” you said, stopping just short of the curb.

The driver’s side door opened, and the short driver made his way out of the car, and around the back passenger door that was facing the road. He opened it for you to climb in as another round of thunder rolled, and thick raindrops started to pelt down all around you.

This was it, there was no going back now.

Swallowing the little voice that was screaming how bad of an idea this was, you climb into the back of the car and the driver shuts your door before making his way around to regain his seat at the helm of the car.

“Well, I must say you are attractive enough, but you look terrified sweetheart.” the same deep baritone voice said across the dark back seat next to you as the diver pulled out onto the street.

Straightening up in your seat, you adjust yourself and try to look less like a scared child, and more like the paid escort you were for the night.

“Well, I’m sorry Dean, but as I told you earlier, the fact that you were so secretive concerning the details of our evening made me a little uneasy. Most clients tell you where they’re going to take you, and what you are going to be doing for the evening.”

Dean chuckled next to you, and adjusted his tie.Even though it was dark in the car, the street lights let you make out his strong jawline, and handsome profile enough to know this was not some overweight businessman. He was much more than that.

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Dean Winchester, and I’m hiring you to escort me to my brother’s dinner party in celebration of his promotion in my father’s company.Judging by your slack jaw, you’ve heard my last name before, and you see why it wasn’t exactly a great idea for me to put my last name, nore the details of our arrangement in a direct message on some crude app.”

You set there in total dumb founded shock.

Of all the people you thought were going to be picking you up tonight, Dean Winchester was not one of them. You had feared that this was a mafia pick up, but this was much worse.

Dean wasn’t only Mafia, he was son of the oldest, most lucrative gang in New York City’s history, his father, John, made Al Capone look like a little boy dressed in a suit. His family were ruthless, and virtually untouchable, protected by money, and God only knows what else you couldn’t even begin to imagine. They didn’t hide what they were because they didn’t have to, and you were more fucked than you thought you’d ever be.

“My brother Sammy’s promotion details are not important. The only thing you need to know is that for the evening you are my girl, and you will do as I say. Talk as little as possible, and like I said, just look pretty. That won't be that hard for you. Stick close to me, but I promise you, this is continental ground, and no one can harm you in any way. So just relax and enjoy the party.”

Dean was completely unfazed by the fact that you still seemed to be in complete shock, like this was the reaction he was expecting from you. He knew that this was your first job? Why the hell did he hire you for something this big? If you weren’t already having a panic attack, you were pretty sure you were going to by the time you got to where you were going.

“Dean, I...Look I don’t...I don’t know if this is such a good idea.What if they don’t buy that I’m your girlfriend, and furthermore why do YOU, of all people, need help getting a girlfriend?” you asked. Dean threw his head back against the seat of the car, his deep booming laugh echoing through the entire car.

“Sweetheart, relax.You're perfect. I didn’t want someone with experience. Escorts in my line of work are, well, a commonly used expense, and I didn’t want someone that is recognizable to anyone that is going to be at this party tonight. I wanted this to be believable. As far as why I need you? Well that’s easy. I’m 40 years old, and unmarried, but I’m also my father’s successor to the company.The only problem is, the high table seems to think that I should have a wife by now, and I don’t, so you are here to keep my father and my elders off my back.” Dean said shortly as the car came to a stop in front of The Roosevelt Hotel.

Dean reached into a folder that was sitting on the seats between you, pulling out a stack of papers that were stapled together, and handing them to you. You took them with what you knew had to be the most bewildered look on your face that anyone had ever had, but Dean seemed to be unfazed as the dome lights were switched on inside the car, and Dean handed you a pen.

His large, freckle dusted hands, made everything they touched seem so small, and you wondered how many people those hands had killed before you buried it deep down inside of you, not letting the thought manifest.

This man was dangerous, but you needed the money.

“This is a NDA.It says that you can not disclose your employment with me, nor anything else you will witness here tonight as long as you live. It’s virtually a gag order. It’s for your protection, not mine.”

You nodded your head and swallowed hard, not daring to ask what the hell would happen to you if you broke said agreement, and signed the papers, knowing you had no choice.

Looking up at the astonishing greens eyes staring back at you, you fought against the deep blush that pooled through your cheeks. Dean was handsome, and there was no denying that.

“Okay, so, I know you said no sex, which quite honestly is a shame,” he said, looking you over in the small space, his perfect white teething pulling at his lower lip, making you blush even deeper than you already where, “but in order to make this convincing, there’s going to have to look like there is some degree of intamicy between us. In other words, I will hold your hand, touch you, tastefully of course, we're not animals, and I may even kiss you if need be, is that okay?”

The thought of those pink, plump lips on yours made a shiver go all the way down your spine, and you had to look down for a moment to compose yourself.

“Yes sir, that’s fine.”

Dean chuckled as he opened his car door, getting out to open yours, his large, warm hand going to your lower back as he pulled you in close to him once you stepped out of the car.

“Call me Dean, Baby Girl,” leaning down so that only you could hear him, his warm breath fanned over the skin of your neck, and goose bumps raised all over your skin, “or you can call me Daddy, I’m okay with that too.”

You blushed furiously and covered your face with your hand, a deep embarrassment at the way your body seemed to be responding to this man standing next to you on the curb of the crowded street. Another booming laugh escaped Dean as he pulled you into a hug. People were apparently watching that you were unaware of , because the act seemed to have already started.

“I’m only teasing you sweetheart.I love to see you blush.Remember, impress me tonight, and this job is yours permanently, and I promise you, I will pay you so well, that you will never want for anything ever again.”

That was a promise you could get behind, so you straightened your skirt and took him in for the first time in the light of the foyer as you walked together, your arm over his own in a formal manner suitable to the occasion.

You hadn’t really looked at him until now, and man, he was a sight.

Danger reeled off of him.From the ridiculous expensive, black, custom fitted Brioni suit, and crisp white Ralph Lauren shirt, to his only God knows how expensive black shoes.

He was lethal, and he had no problem not hiding it.

His piercing green eyes held an air of mischief that excited you in a way you’d never experienced before. Not a hair out of place, except for the almost auburn stubble that matched his perfectly placed hair sprinkled across his chiseled jaw, and a smirk that could melt the panties off of every woman in the room.

He carried a presence about him that commanded attention, and you could tell by the faces of the people that were watching the two of you as you both checked in to the black tie event the hotel was hosting for the Winchester family, that he was the man that everyone loved to hate.

This was the craziest thing you had ever done in your life, and it would probably one way or another end badly, you knew that, but his was the most alive you had felt in your life, and you were determined you were going to enjoy the moment on Dean’s arm, and worry about the rest later.

Besides, what was life without a little adventure, and it was high time you had yours.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #mobster!dean #mobster!dean winchester x virgin!reader #virgin!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean x you #dean x reader #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn series #dean winchester series #jensen ackles #jawritter #when the lights go out

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

Text

this is the life

ole miss rafe x reader

you and your boyfriend deal with your ~futures~

literally no one asked for this lol, i’m sorry

(warnings: cursing)

Your animal and dairy sciences seminar had a report due that you’d stayed up very late making last minute edits to because you were stressed it was really bad. The next morning was brutal. Not only was in an 8 a.m. lecture, but your coffee machine was out and you overslept, barely giving yourself enough time to get to class before the professor checked attendance.

You slid into your seat, out of breath, just as started scanning the seating chart for attendance. The boy who sits next to you turned to ask, “Library was backed up this morning?”

“What?” you asked, halfway paying attention, still scrambling to get your notebook out.

“Since you’re running late, I’m assuming it’s because the library was busy when you went to print your report.”

Your stomach dropped and you swore, “Fuck. I forgot to print it. Fucking fuck. I submitted it online but I forgot we needed to hand him a physical copy too. Oh god I can’t afford to fail this class.” You were getting worked up and the boy was starting to look more and more like he regretted talking to you in the first place.

“I mean he’s pretty chill, so I’m sure if you explain he’ll let you bring it by his office later.”

The boy had a point, but you were already too far gone. For the rest of the class, you were unfocused, and if someone asked you what he lectured on, you’d have no clue, so preoccupied with rehearsing how you were going to beg him for an extension. You only had one other class, and you’d definitely be able to print it out and run it to him between them, but that was depending on if he let you.

Just as class was ending, your phone vibrated in your hoodie pocket, and you checked it, immediately calmed at seeing a text from your boyfriend. Rafe sent Can’t wait to see you this weekend and whatever had a grip on your chest loosened enough for you to take a full breath for the first time since waking up.

After speaking to your professor and his reassurance that you didn’t really need to worry much about the written report, that it was just to ensure everyone had it turned in prior to class, you left, much happier, but the exhaustion hitting you straight in the gut.

Thankfully, all you had left that day was a communication elective and then to drive to Rafe’s apartment in Oxford. He’d convinced you to make the trip because he wanted to show you around the place he’d called home for four years after leaving behind his “hometown trauma.” His words.

Your class flew by, people were giving speeches and you’d given yours Wednesday, so you sat there mindlessly, half asleep, until she dismissed the class for the weekend. Stopping back by your apartment to pick up your overnight bag, you decided to last minute check your PO Box, it had been a while. To your shock, you actually had mail, and when you saw the return address, the sick feeling returned to your stomach.

There was about a two-hour drive to Rafe’s apartment from Starkville, and you had the option of opening the letter containing either the best news or the worst news of your life before the drive or at Rafe’s apartment. Part of you wanted to know then, but a stronger part of you wanted to be with Rafe so he could comfort you if necessary.

Instead of making a decision, you felt your tired brain could not, you called Rafe. He answered before the second ring and you couldn’t help yourself.

“I see that receptionist job taught you some useful skills.”

“What?” he asked, sounding confused.

“Answering my calls fast, that’s good because my time is money.”

Rafe sighed, “Can I help you?”

“Someone’s mad. But, yes, should I open the letter from the vet school now or wait until I get to Oxford.”

You heard some shuffling around before he answered, “You think you can wait? I actually have something to tell you too.”

“Yeah, um, sure,” you were a little worried, “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. We just need to talk.”

“Right, talk, are you sure everything’s good?”

“Yeah, stop worrying. Just drive on over.”

You had been excited to go visit, but after that phone call you wanted to go back to bed. With a deep sigh, you rubbed your eyes with the heels of your hands and slumped backward. Blinking away the spots, you buckled up, pit in your stomach, and drove to your favorite coffee shop in Starkville. If shit was going to go down in Oxford you were going to have your comfort drink.

StrangeBrew’s drive-thru was packed and you tapped your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as you waited to order your blueberry cobbler cold brew with soy milk. Right as the barista handed you the to-go cup, your phone vibrated and Rafe had sent drive safe!! <3. The fuck did that mean in the context of your earlier phone conversation?!

The drive to Oxford was boring as hell. You’d made it before, a band you liked had played there one night, and you and some friends had made the reluctant trip to see them. Turning on your podcast, you focused on nothing but the drive, pushing aside relationship doubts and the growing anxiety about the letter sitting in your passenger seat.

You called Rafe when you got close, and he was waiting outside his building when you finally found a visitor’s spot. He jogged over to grab your overnight bag and bent down to give you a quick kiss, before greeting you with, “Hey, baby, how was the drive?”

“Boring as fuck, nothing new.”

“Went smoothly?”

“About as smooth as possible. I’ve had to pee for the last like 40 minutes though, so it’d be great if I could do that now.”

He laughed and turned to walk to his building, motioning for you to follow him. You did, scampering a little to keep up with his long strides, and he unlocked a door on the first floor, holding it open for you, “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”

Rafe was sitting on the couch when you made it back out to the living room, and you finally took a good look at him. His laptop was on the coffee table and he was wearing a pair of Ole Miss sweats, a worn-out t-shirt, and a pair of glasses you were unaware he needed.

“Take a picture,” he interrupted your train of thought and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up, Cameron. Now, tell me what you want to talk about so I can open my letter.”

“No, open your letter first and then we’ll talk.”

You weren’t sure why he was so insistent or why your heart rate tripled, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t the coffee. With shaking hands, you held up the letter from the MSU Vet School. All of your undergrad work came down to that letter, whether you’d have to take a gap year and try to find work to apply again or whether you could move forward in your career path.

Rafe watched on eagerly as you carefully tore it open and started reading. Eyes jumping across the page, unable to focus, you barely made out, Congratulations and We welcome you and We look forward to seeing you next fall.

With a gasp, you launched yourself at an unprepared Rafe and latched on, arms wrapped around his neck. He ran his hand up and down your back soothingly and asked, gently, “Good news?”

“I’m going to Vet School,” you whispered, voice cracking in the middle of your sentence.

“Fucking right you are, my little Rockstar.”

Your face heated up and you buried it in the crook of his neck, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. Only to come crashing back down a few seconds later as you remembered Rafe wanted to talk. Pulling back slowly, you asked, “So, what was it you wanted to talk about?”

His face lit up and he leaned forward, hanging on to you so he didn’t accidentally dump you onto the floor, and grabbed his laptop. Clicking to his email, he showed you the message he had pulled up from Mississippi State University Department of History Admissions.

“So, you know I’ve been interested in teaching,” he started, “and I’m debating whether I’d like to teach college or not.”

“Yeah, last we talked, you were leaning toward college professor, right?”

“Right. Well, I applied to a few schools that had a PhD program I was interested in, and I heard back from my top choice.”

Your mind was racing, still not connecting the dots, until he motioned at his laptop. Looking back down, you skimmed the email, telling him that he’d been accepted into MSU’s PhD in European History program and gasped, turning back to him in excitement, “No way?!”

“Way,” he told you, wide grin on his face.

Jaw dropped, your mind raced to put together a coherent thought, “How long have you been planning this?”

“The program is good, this isn’t a new thought, but MSU obviously jumped up my preference list to the top after we got together.”

“Fuckin whipped,” you teased and he tilted your chin down to kiss you.

Pulling away he brushed some of your hair back, “Only for you.”

As he leaned in again, you were the one to pull back, “Wait, we have to celebrate!”

Rafe groaned, “No, let me kiss you.”

“No! I want food, I spent the entire ride thinking I was going to get dumped when I got here.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?”

“We need to talk,” you quoted, “that’s one scary fucking sentence, Cameron.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sweetheart, I just wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“Well you did.”

Rafe leaned in to kiss you again and pulled back to add, “You really think I’d make you drive all the way here, just to break up with you. I’m wounded you think that lowly of me.”

“You are an asshole.”

Rolling his eyes, he pinched your cheek gently, “Be nice to me, I’m sacrificing my dignity and lowering myself to Mississippi State’s standards.”

Blinking a few times in surprise at his sudden switch, you told him back, “Fuck off, I’m sure you were last choice as soon as they saw where you got your undergrad degree.”

Without saying anything else, he kissed you again, gripping behind your knees and shifting so your back was on the couch. As he lowered himself down on top of you, you decided that food could wait. You had your future to celebrate.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron fic #rafe obx #outer banks fic #outer banks #obx #college rafe #ole miss rafe

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nancypullen · 2 years

Text

Blue Skies

What an absolutely gorgeous day! Sixty degrees, bright blue skies, big, fluffy clouds, and birds singing like it’s spring (spoiler alert: it’s not). Tomorrow is supposed to be even warmer. But what goes up must come down and we’ll be chilly again by Saturday. I think the weekend highs are predicted to be around 40. That’s okay, I love sweater weather too. Even the kitties enjoyed today’s break in the normal winter gloom. Where there be sunbeams there be cats.

Later they moved to the living room and basked in the sun there. Not gonna’ lie, I almost stretched out on the floor and joined them. I have absolutely no news to share. We don’t go anywhere or do anything. I haven’t left the driveway all week, so today I got all dolled up and went to Target to buy Drano for a slow draining bathroom sink. Good times. While there I purchased a box of Milk Bones for the many visitors that stop by to stare in our front door. This is Daisy. She doesn’t know it’s not October.

She’s the sweetest dog in the neighborhood and everyone feeds her. When she sees you walking toward the door with something in your hand she starts to wiggle all over. It’s worth very piece of turkey or bacon we’ve sacrificed. The family one house over says that’s how they clean out the frig. My dream is to one day be as popular as Daisy. I’ll have to leave instructions for the people who buy this house. You may notice animals, many animals, staring in the front door at various times. The orange cat gets 1/4 cup of kibble, the black lab will eat anything you give her, the speckled mutt will whine and try to move in, so you may have to call his parents, the beagles come in pairs and are just curious and on their way to Farmer Layne’s field. The raccoons will help themselves to the bird feeder, your assistance is not required. Good luck. I downloaded two books from the library this afternoon. I’m not sure which one I’m in the mood to start tonight. One is non-fiction, historical, probably going to be eye-opening and emotional.

I’m leaning toward the second book, it has rave reviews and a blurb that made me smile : "This is a big-hearted belly-laugh of a book, told with wit and poignancy. Family secrets, laughter and tears, shocking reveals, and an uplifting ending make this a story to savor and share."--Susan Wiggs, New York Times bestselling author of The Lost and Found Bookshop

Yep, I think I’ll start book #2. And that means that I’ll leave you here because I’m heading off to soak in a fragrant bath and see what the Sweeney Sisters have to say. Perfect ending for this exceptionally lovely day. I hope you found something delightful in your day - a good book, a friendly pet, or just some sunshine. Whatever it is that makes you smile, I hope you had a dose today. If not, have a cookie. Works for me. Stay safe, stay well, keep looking for the good. XOXO,

Nancy

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freddieslater · 3 years

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oh god I want to ask abt many of ur wips but the one that v obviously stands out the most to me is valerine and the twins !! that ficlet u did for this concept with teh mb still lives in my head rent free so ofc I want to know how that fic is going. also 40 (bc what a concept !!) and/or 53 <33

I thought that would be the one that most interested you haha, of course you can know how it's going, I am very pleased that it lives rent free in your head. You obviously know the basic concept, which is that Valerie and Caroline get full custody of the twins, so we'll jump right into the snippet instead!

"I want to go for full custody."

Valerie stops. Her hands are drenched in bubbles and soapy water, a plate in one hand and the sponge in her other. She looks more domestic than Caroline ever thought she'd see her, hair tied back loosely and wearing one of Caroline's softest plaid shirts. It's orange and pink. It's a good look on her.

The smile that had been caught on her lips just a second ago has faded slightly as she processes what Caroline just said. In all fairness, it's a big thing to just casually throw out into a normal conversation while washing the dishes.

"Okay," Valerie says slowly. "Um... Okay, that's a pretty big deal." She lets the plate slide back into the sink and turns to Caroline, shaking her head. "I mean, I think you should."

Caroline blinks. She was expecting a more alarmed response; usually, in tv shows and books, when one person says they want to get full custody of a kid, it's a big deal for the partner, right? They're not sure they can handle it, they're not sure their relationship will be able to get through it, all of that.

Flat out agreement wasn't quite on the list.

"Really?" she asks, straightening up with a surge of joyful hope. "You do? You're not -- you don't want to -- to talk about it or anything?"

Valerie frowns, her brow wrinkling. Caroline's always liked the little crease it makes between her eyebrows. Not when she first met her, that was more satisfying, knowing she had stumped her. But recently, it's become a fond thing rather than one for her to be triumphant over.

"Caroline, they're your kids," Valerie says. "If you want full custody of them, it's not my place to have a say in that."

The hope is quickly pricked with a sharp little pin and bursts, deflating with a sad whistle. It weirdly stings her, too.

"That's... No, that's not how this works," Caroline says, weirdly hurt. Maybe she had been expecting a bit more hesitation surrounding the idea, but this feels worse.

Valerie seems to be realizing that. Confused, grabs a towel from the sideboard and starts drying her hands, while she says, "It isn't?"

"No!" Caroline laughs in disbelief. She steps forward and takes one of her partially dry hands in between both of her own. "No, it's absolutely not. Val, you are a big part of my life now. You know that, right?"

Valerie hesitates now. Her mouth opens like she wants to agree, but her just runs along her teeth while that little crease in her eyebrows grows deeper.

"Well, yeah," she quickly says after a moment, with Caroline's exasperated stare focused on her. "Of course I do. But I wouldn't stand in the way of any decisions you wanted to make about your kids, that's why I just thought this was more you telling me rather than something for us to talk about."

Caroline's realizing that Valerie's response wasn't because she doesn't want to be part of the family. She just doesn't think that she is part of it.

Which... actually hurts even more, Caroline finds. Because maybe that's on her. Has she been making her feel left out? Like she's a separate part of her life from Lizzie and Josie? That was the last thing she wanted.

"Valerie," Caroline says seriously, and her eyes widen a little with worry. "Almost every decision that I make for my future is going to include your voice, because it's going to affect yours, too. That's what being in a relationship is, remember? So, if I tell you that I want to get full custody of Lizzie and Josie, I'm asking you to talk it through with me before anything goes ahead. Are you okay with having that conversation?"

She has never seen Valerie look so stumped for what to say before. It's the first time they've had a conversation like this, one that's really going to affect both of them.

But even though she has that fight-or-flight, ready to flee at a moment's notice look in her eyes that she often gets, Valerie nods slowly. Then her face breaks out into a smile, and she breathes out a soft laugh, looking down.

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I would love that."

Now, 40! Hope living with Jeremy! It is certainly a concept, isn't it?? This comes entirely from the start of season 2 of Legacies, when no one remembered Hope but she was sticking around Mystic Falls to help with the Malivore monsters. When watching that, my mum and I had been trying to guess who she was going to live with, because surely she wouldn't be living on her own and she couldn't stay at the school, so we came up with the theory that she was going to be living with Jeremy, who, as far as we knew, would have to have somewhere to live while he was in town. And then I decided that if she was going to be living with Jeremy, they would train together, he would help with some Malivore monsters, then they would slowly bond because Jeremy was actually kinda friends with Kol at one point. And then we have big brother Jeremy! Have a little snippet:

There's a loud thwacking noise from the back garden as Hope walks into the kitchen. She pauses momentarily in her sleepy state, registers the noise, then continues going about grabbing a bowl and her box of cereal. It's nearly empty, she finds, to her dismay.

Once she's poured the last of the milk and tossed the carton, she opens up the back door and steps out into the garden. Her eyes adjust quickly to the darkness and hone in on the figure currently throwing a staff around at a tree like it has personally offended him.

"Are you ever worried that one day it's going to fight back?" she asks curiously.

Jeremy startles and nearly drops the staff in his haste to turn around to face her.

"I mean, dryads and wood nymphs are actually a thing. Just so you know. That tree might have a family that probably wouldn't appreciate you hitting it repeatedly for fun."

She spoons cereal into her mouth as Jeremy laughs. Relieved that she isn't some Malivore monster sneaking up on him, he relaxes enough to double over, hands on his knees as he breathes heavily. For someone who's not exactly unfit or unathletic, he gets out of breath incredibly easily.

Tilting her head, Hope asks, "Have you ever considered that you might be asthmatic? You breathe like one."

"And you talk like your uncle," Jeremy quips back, still laughing at her comments. He groans, straightening back up as he adds, "But yes, I do have asthma. Thanks for your concern."

Hope's heart beats a little faster. It always does when her family is mentioned, more often now than before. The urge to get on the bus and go home to them in New Orleans is still there, no matter how much she tries to ignore it. She needs to focus on Malivore's monsters. But it's hard sometimes.

She smiles to herself, wondering if he's right. She hopes so. Uncle Kol was always her favourite. The thought that she could be making him proud with just a few words fills her with a kind of happy pride she hasn't felt since Uncle Kol told her she was just like him for causing trouble at the Salvatore School.

Then she wipes it off her face like she always does whenever he casually talks about her family, straightens up against the doorframe, and says, "Maybe you should use an inhaler, then. I wouldn't want you dropping dead while we're fighting a monster."

"Hasn't happened yet!"

She rolls her eyes at him, something she also finds herself doing often these days. It's easier to ignore him and continue eating her cereal while he goes back to training. Clearly, he has no concern about dryads coming after him for revenge.

"Hey, do you wanna join?" Jeremy calls over to her.

He offers the staff out to her, but she shakes her. Motioning her cereal with her spoon, she smiles again, and says, "I'm good. Just came down for this. You have fun freezing out here, though."

She turns back inside the kitchen as Jeremy chuckles and shakes his head at her. "Good morning to you too."

53 is a good choice, I very much enjoy that one as well. "Klayley Wedding" is pretty much what it sounds like; Klaus and Hayley are together and getting married. They waited a while to do so, so Hope is seventeen and being pulled out of the Salvatore School for a few days in order to be there for it. And she's bringing a date! Here is your preview:

"Come on, humour me," Lizzie whines as she fusses with the back of Hope's hair. Why she agreed to let her style it, Hope has no idea; it was definitely a moment of bad judgment, but at the same time, it was let her do it when she begged, or be forever resented for saying no.

And having Lizzie Laughlin-Forbes resent you is not something anyone in the Salvatore School risks. It's signing a death sentence.

Rolling her eyes, Hope goes to shake her head then quickly stops when Lizzie holds it firmly on both sides and glares at her in the mirror. "No moving until I'm done!" she reminds her. "I haven't spelled it yet, you'll mess it up."

"Have you ever considered going into hairdressing?" Hope asks dryly, glaring back halfheartedly. Really, she doesn't mind her helping her out.

It's at least better than her having to worry about it herself. Though, Aunt Rebekah is not going to be happy that she didn't let her do it. It's why she's practically been avoiding her since getting to New Orleans.

Lizzie laughs shortly, then says, "Nice try. You're not wriggling out of the question."

Hope doesn't admit that's what she was trying to do, but it definitely was the intention. Lizzie has been a broken record since she found out that Hope was bringing a date to the wedding. At first, she was offended that Hope hadn't asked her, but then saw Hope's reasoning when she pointed out that she and Josie were already going to be there because of their mom.

"It's not a big deal!" Hope says, finally at least acknowledging the question.

Lizzie scoffs. "Oh, of course not. Except, it absolutely is, and you know that it definitely is to Rafael. You basically asked him to meet your family, Hope. That's a big deal to most people."

"Not to you or Josie."

"We've known your family since we were born!" Lizzie protests. She stops whatever she was doing to Hope's hair to stare at her in the mirror. "Rafael is head over heels in love with you, any person with barely working eyes -- or ears -- knows that. Except you, apparently!"

Hope shakes her head, once again forgetting Lizzie's rule. Lizzie quickly holds her head in place again, but she's too focused on the conversation at hand to lecture her again.

"Maybe this is your way of letting him down without having to actually tell him!" Lizzie continues, obviously trying to get under her skin. "After all, you've invited him to meet your family, who are probably going to threaten him at every turn. Especially your dad, because of the whole macho alpha werewolf thing, you know?"

"My mom's actually the Alpha of the pack, not my dad," Hope corrects, but Lizzie brushes it off.

"After today, Rafael's probably not going to have any feelings for you anymore out of fear of your family, so, really, you won't have to do anything. I mean, it's smart -- a little cruel, but at least you don't have to do any of the hard work yourself, that's all up to your family--"

"You make them sound terrifying," Hope protest with a touch of offence to her voice, staring up at Lizzie in the mirror. "They're not that bad. I actually think they'll like Raf."

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. She's smiling.

"Is that because you want them to like him?" she asks slowly, and Hope groans, but Lizzie quickly presses on before she can interrupt, "Just admit you asked him to be your date because you like him!"

"If I do, will you shut up and finish my hair so that we can go and meet Josie and Raf?"

Lizzie lights up like a Christmas tree. She squeals excitedly, even though Hope technically hasn't even admitted anything yet. She's taking it as all the confirmation she needs.

"I like him," Hope says anyway, and maybe she's smiling a little as well. "And yes, it would be convenient for me if my parents liked him before anything happened between us."

"I knew it," Lizzie breathes out, shaking her head. She picks back up where she left off with Hope's hair as if nothing happened. "Now that that's over. Tell me, would your Aunt Rebekah mind if I borrowed that really gorgeous emerald bracelet she showed us yesterday?"

Hope is laughing. Lizzie can't seem to figure out why, but honestly, Hope's just so happy in the moment that she can't help herself. For a moment on the way over to New Orleans, when everyone was packed onto that bus, shouting and arguing, she thought this was going to be a disaster. Someone would end up killing someone.

There's still time for that, especially since neither she nor her mom have told her dad that she has a date. But Hope is finally living up to her name for once and is choosing to be hopeful that, actually, maybe everything is allowed to go right for once.

God, writing those snippets took me so long, so apologies for the delay! But I actually enjoyed this a lot so thank you so much for giving me motivation! Who knows, I might actually finish writing them now! (God, now all I can think about is TVD and Legacies, I haven’t been here in ageeeees. Time to rewatch TVD season 1-6 and season 2 of Legacies, I think.)

#nbvethbrenatto #ask away earthlings!#tvd #the vampire diaries #legacies #fanfiction stuff #wip nudge game

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olivemac · 3 years

Text

1300 miles | chapter two | b.b.

Summary | Bucky Barnes is adjusting to civilian life, living in Brooklyn, visiting Sam in Delacroix when he can, and trying to figure out what he wants. When he meets Jo Landry, the tattooed lead singer of a New Orleans-based band, he thinks he might have found the answer. Too bad they live 1300 miles apart.

Time Frame | post-TFATWS

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc

Rating | explicit

Warnings | mentions of combat-related injuries, alcohol use, tattoos/body piercings, coarse language, gay male character, bisexual female character, recreational/medicinal drug use (weed), pet names (doll, Sarge), smut (f/m, mutual masturbation, fingering, very very slight dom!Bucky, praise kink), angst if you squint but not really, and all the romance tropes/fluff because I'm a sucker for it; more warnings to come; 18+ ONLY, minors DNI

A/N | Likes and comments always appreciated. :)

series master list | AO3 link | full master list

1300 miles playlist

Tag | @mrs--barnes

_____

previous chapter

_____

Jo wakes the next morning to a text from Danny: Did you fuck the Winter Soldier?

She rolls her eyes and responds: Fuck off. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore.

Danny replies with a leaf emoji and the words: Come upstairs.

Jo slides her glasses on and climbs out of bed. She pads into the living room as quietly as she can to find Bucky snoring on her couch with Toulouse perched on his chest. She can’t stop herself from snapping a picture with her phone.

Upstairs, she lets herself into Danny’s apartment. She’s met at the door by Greta, Danny’s PTSD service dog, a medium-sized German Shepherd who waits patiently for Jo to kneel down and scratch her behind her ears.

“Morning, pup,” Jo whispers.

“I’m out here,” Danny calls from his third-floor balcony.

“Coffee?” Jo asks.

“Cold-brew in the fridge,” Danny responds.

She detours to the kitchen before joining Danny at the small table on his balcony.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jo asks. Danny always smokes the morning after a nightmare.

“They’re called flashbacks, and yes,” he responds, taking a deep drag of the joint.

“But they’re getting better, right?”

"Since you came back, yeah, they're getting better."

“Give me that,” Jo says, reaching for the joint. She takes a drag then exhales slowly. “You can always wake me up when you have a flashback, you know.”

Danny snorts. “I was afraid I’d wander into your bedroom to find you getting dicked down by an Avenger.”

“Please stop,” Jo groans. "You get that you're my brother, right? And this is weird."

Danny laughs, "It's only weird if you make it weird." Then he says, “Seriously, though, what’s the deal with Mister Tall-Dark-and-Handsome? I mean, if Sam trusts him, then he must be a good guy, but he’s literally a hundred years old, Jo.”

“He’s…” she pauses, “really sweet and charming underneath the brooding exterior. I really like him, Danny.”

“But?”

“But he lives in New York,” she whines.

“Yeah,” Danny says, taking another drag on the joint.

“‘Yeah?’ That’s all you’re going to say?”

Danny shrugs. “Some things are worth working for.”

Jo laughs, “Okay, why don’t you get back to me when you’re not high. I’m heading back downstairs.”

“Love you, Josiebean,” Danny says, using the nickname he gave Jo when they were kids.

“Love you, too, Daniel-San,” Jo replies. Danny laughs at the Karate Kid reference like he always does, and Jo kisses his forehead and pats his shoulder before leaving.

_____

Bucky wakes to the smell of coffee and bacon, his stomach rumbling at the scent. There's a warm weight on his chest, and when he opens his eyes he's greeted with the yellow stare of Toulouse.

He looks at his watch. It's a little after eleven. He usually wakes earlier, but he also doesn't usually sleep as soundly as he did last night.

He wanders into the kitchen in his borrowed sweats to find Jo standing at the stove in an oversized t-shirt, shorts, and out-of-season Halloween socks, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. Her back is to him, and he takes the opportunity to study her naked legs. More ink peaks out from the hem of her shorts and covers most of her thighs. Bucky has the urge to drop to his knees before her and run his tongue over every intricate design.

Instead, he clears his throat, so he doesn't startle her, and she turns to face him. Her face is bare, and she’s wearing large, gold-rimmed glasses. Bucky can’t decide if she looks prettier like this or like she did last night, with her hair flowing down her back and her guitar in her hands.

"Morning," Jo says. “Sorry to shatter the illusion,” she continues, gesturing to her glasses and outfit.

Bucky smiles. He isn’t sure what the protocol is for greeting the woman you made out with and whose couch you slept on last night, but he decides he wants to kiss her again. He takes the few steps toward her and pulls her into his arms. This close, she has to crane her neck up to look him in the eyes.

“Morning,” he says. They’re so close and his voice is pitched so low that Jo can feel the word rumble in his chest. Butterflies erupt in her stomach.

Bucky leans down slowly and presses his lips against Jo’s. This kiss is softer and slower than the kisses they shared last night, and the heat that explodes in Jo’s lower stomach burns the butterflies away. Her fingers dig into his triceps, one arm yielding to her touch, the other firm against her digits. She sighs and opens her mouth to his tongue, letting him deepen the kiss.

He licks into her mouth, and Jo moans, her hands coming up to cup his stubble-covered cheeks. Bucky’s own hands slide down Jo’s back to her buttocks, pulling her hips flush against his so she can feel the effect she’s having on him. Jo gasps, and Bucky’s lips leave hers to trail wet kisses against her jaw.

When he pulls away, Bucky’s smile is almost smug. He likes all the sounds he’s able to pull from her, and he wants to hear more.

Jo turns back to the stove, catching her breath and trying to hide the flush she knows is rising from her chest to her cheeks.

“Breakfast — well," she looks at the clock on the oven, "brunch — is ready. Have a seat.”

Bucky places a final kiss against the back of Jo’s neck before sitting.

Toulouse rubs against Bucky's legs beneath the kitchen table. He reaches down to scratch Louie between the ears, and the cat lets out a contented chirp.

"He's usually not that nice to strangers," Jo says, watching the two of them from across the room.

"My sister had a cat growing up — big, fat orange thing that was missing half an ear. His name was Marmalade."

Jo smiles brightly and sets a plate of food in front of him. “Coffee?” she asks.

“Please,” Bucky says. “But I can get it.”

“No need,” she says, handing him a mug of fresh coffee. “You want oat milk? Sugar, maybe?”

“Black is good,” Bucky says, taking his first sip.

Jo sits across from him with her own plate and coffee cup. They spend breakfast talking quietly. Bucky likes the domesticity of it. He's gotten used to having breakfast at the Wilson's with Sarah, Sam, and the boys, but this meal with Jo feels more intimate. He has a brief flash of spending every morning like this, but he pushes it away as quickly as it comes. He's trying not to overthink whatever’s happening between himself and Jo. He’s not used to having good things in his life, but he wants to lean into this, take the risk.

"You said last night that you know who I am," Bucky says as they clear their plates from the table.

Jo is quiet for a moment, neatly stacking plates and coffee cups in the dishwasher.

“I may have seen a documentary or two featuring the Howling Commandos,” she says, closing the dishwasher and turning to Bucky. “And Sam and Steve may have crashed in Danny’s apartment for a couple of months when they were on the run following the Accords.”

Bucky is silent. He's staring at Jo with the same brooding intensity as last night, but there's something more in his eyes — a sadness she hadn't noticed earlier. She's seen that look before on Danny when he first came back from Afghanistan. It's the look of someone who's lost everything. But as quickly as it's there, it's gone.

Bucky clears his throat. “You knew Steve?” he asks.

“Yeah. I mean, briefly,” she whispers. “Let me show you something.”

He follows her into the living room where she pulls a box from one of the bookshelves. She empties the contents onto the coffee table; it's a handful of polaroids featuring varied combinations of Jo and Sam and Steve and Danny. Bucky sits on the couch and picks up one of the photos. It's of Steve with a German Shepherd; in the photo Steve is smiling brightly, and Bucky's heart aches at the sight.

"That's Greta," Jo says, sitting next to Bucky, "Danny's dog. She was just a puppy then. She adored Steve."

Bucky laughs through his nose and picks up another photo. This one features Sam and Jo sitting at a table in a kitchen that looks like Jo's but slightly different — Bucky assumes it's Danny's; Sam is clearly in the middle of a story, and Jo's head is thrown back in laughter. A stab of jealousy hits him in the chest — Bucky wants to make her laugh like that. He skims through the rest of the polaroids, finally landing on one of Jo and Steve sitting side by side at a piano, Steve's large frame dwarfing the woman next to him.

"He found out I can play a few '30s and '40s standards on piano," Jo says, smiling at the memory. "There wasn't a lot for him and Sam to do cooped up here for three months, so I taught him some basics."

Bucky stares at the photo for a while before he speaks. "You play piano?" he asks.

"I started on piano, took up guitar when I was ten, then bass when I was thirteen. I can also play drums, organ, banjo, mandolin, and a little violin," she says. "And I have a Bachelors of Music with a concentration in voice."

Bucky stares at her for a moment, then tosses the photo back onto the coffee table and reaches for Jo, pulling her onto his lap. She settles with her legs on either side of his hips and her hands on his shoulders.

"So, you have very talented fingers, then?" Bucky asks with a flirty grin.

Jo rolls her eyes and laughs, but she's secretly pleased with where this interaction seems to be headed. She was worried Bucky would feel like she had kept something from him by not telling him about Steve last night, but he seems to be taking it in stride.

"Thanks for showing me those photographs," Bucky says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "He gave up everything for me back then, so it's nice to see that maybe he had a little bit of happiness during that time."

"He wanted the same for you," she whispers, nudging her nose against Bucky's.

Bucky kisses her softly, then pulls away, staring into her green eyes. Jo slides her glasses off and sets them on the coffee table behind her.

She drags a finger down his vibranium arm and asks, “Can you feel that?”

Bucky licks his lips. “Yeah. It’s—it’s different from the real one, but yeah.”

Jo hums in acknowledgment but doesn’t say anything else. Their lips meet again, and this time the kiss is longer, needier. Bucky sweeps his tongue into her mouth, and Jo is certain she's going to have beard burn across her face tomorrow. But she doesn't really care.

Jo slides her hands into Bucky's hair, and he sighs into her mouth when she angles her hips against his just right, pressing against him slowly. His grip on her waist tightens before he slips his vibranium hand down across her backside to gently guide her movements. His flesh hand covers her right breast, palming her through her shirt.

Jo's hands leave his hair to slide beneath Bucky's t-shirt. He pulls back from her slightly and puts his hand over hers.

“I have scars,” Bucky warns.

“Okay,” Jo mumbles against his lips, trying for another kiss.

Bucky pulls back again. “They’re not pretty.”

Jo looks at him. “Bucky, do you really think I care about that? Do I look like someone who’s worried about conventional beauty standards?” she jokes. She smiles softly and brings a hand up to cradle his jaw. “You don’t have to show me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” she whispers, leaning in to kiss him again.

He pulls away from her mouth to tug the shirt over his head before he can overthink it. He’s gorgeous like this, and Jo wants to touch every inch of him. She starts with his chest, and her fingers dance lightly across the scars on Bucky’s left shoulder before she presses a quick kiss to the spot where flesh meets metal. Bucky smiles at the gesture, then his lips are on Jo's neck. As he sucks a mark into the place where her neck meets her shoulder, Bucky slips his flesh hand beneath the fabric of Jo's shirt.

Bucky's thumb slides across her nipple, and he pauses, warm metal against his digit stopping him. Jo can feel Bucky's fingers against her breast, trying to work out what exactly he's touching. She leans back, her hands on Bucky's chest to keep him from following her and pulls her t-shirt over her head.

Bucky's fairly certain his heart stops at the sight before him. He’s not sure what to look at first: the small gold balls that adorn either side of Jo’s erect nipples or the intricate floral design inked on her sternum between and below her breasts, framing them perfectly.

“So…I have my nipples pierced,” Jo says, taking Bucky’s staring for hesitation or confusion.

Bucky licks his lips. “Fuck,” he mutters before running his thumb across her right nipple and taking the left one between his teeth.

Jo hisses and bucks her hips harder against his cock. He's hot and hard beneath her as she grinds against him. The feeling he had last night – of being on fire – has returned, but it's tenfold now. Every thought of taking things slow, every bit of doubt has evaporated in wake of his need to please Jo.

Bucky grips Jo's waist and flips her onto her back on the couch, coming to rest between her open legs.

“Is this okay?” he asks, pressing his bare chest against hers. His dog tags are cool against her skin.

“Very," she breathes.

Bucky's lips find Jo's again before trailing across her jaw, down her neck, and over her breasts. He lets his tongue explore one of her pierced nipples before taking the bud between his teeth and pulling slightly. Jo gasps, and her own hands slide from Bucky's shoulders down his chest and across his stomach, her blunt fingernails scratching against his abs as she goes. She palms his cock through his sweats, and Bucky's hips stutter. His eyes clench shut like he’s in pain, and he pulls away to catch his breath.

"Sorry," Jo says quickly, removing her hand. "We can slow down."

"No," Bucky all but growls, then takes another deep breath and opens his eyes. "No. It's just been," he pauses, "it's been a while since I've done this, and you're kind of driving me crazy, Jo." He lets out a breathy laugh, then seems to sober. "I just—I, uh, need to be in control of some things. If that's okay."

She smiles her understanding before kissing him, softer this time. Bucky leans into the kiss and sweeps his tongue into her mouth, tasting her. He props himself up with his vibranium hand, and his right hand moves back to Jo's breasts, teasing each nipple in turn.

"Tell me what you want," Jo says as Bucky's teeth bite gently at her pulse point.

Bucky presses his lips against Jo's ear and whispers, "Touch yourself. Please. I want to watch you fall apart."

Jo whimpers. She catches the look on Bucky's face as her hand travels down her body and into her shorts. His pupils are blown wide, barely a hint of blue visible around black. She knows her own eyes look much the same.

She hisses when her fingers meet the bundle of nerves between her legs, then slide lower. Bucky can't decide if he wants to watch her hand beneath her shorts or her face. He settles for moving his eyes between her face and breasts, watching them rise and fall with each breath she takes. Finally, he lowers his head back between her breasts and traces the outline of the tattoo there with his tongue. Jo moans and bucks her hips.

Bucky presses his own hips against the couch, trying to find the smallest bit of relief. He's not going to last. It's been too long since he's been with someone this way, and his body feels like a live wire. He reaches up to push the fabric of her shorts aside, moaning when he realizes she's not wearing anything beneath them.

He feels Jo's fingers pull away, and he growls, "Keep touching yourself." She does, her fingers rubbing hard circles into her clit. "Good girl," Bucky praises, and Jo keens, Bucky's name falling from her lips.

He slips his own fingers inside of her. She's so wet and warm, Bucky is afraid he'll finish just from this. Or maybe it will be the sound of her moans that do me in, he thinks. Because she sounds lovely, better than she did on stage last night. And she feels perfect wrapped around his two digits. He adds a third, and Jo's whole body tenses. Bucky can feel her warm heat tighten around his fingers as her legs bend and draw in closer to her body. The sight of Jo coming pushes him over the edge. He's spilling into his sweatpants like a teenager, and he doesn't even care. All he can think of is the sound of Jo, the feel of Jo, the look on Jo's face.

Bucky collapses onto Jo's body, his full weight resting on her for a second before he props himself up again and looks at her. She's smiling sleepily, a slightly dazed look in her eyes, and he can't help but admit that it makes his ego swell to know he can make her smile like that.

"That was..." he starts.

Jo hesitates, then runs her fingers through his hair softly. "Good? Great? Amazing?" she says.

Bucky breathes out a laugh and rests his head on her chest for a moment. "All of the above," he replies. Jo hums, and Bucky continues, lifting his head again to look at her, "You're fucking perfect, doll."

Jo laughs, and replies, "You probably say that to all the girls, Sarge."

Bucky sobers. "No, Jo, I don't. Really." He brushes a strand of hair from her face. "When I said I haven't done this in a while, that was an understatement," he says. Dr. Raynor told him he needed to open up, nurture friendships (or whatever this is turning into), so here he goes. "I wasn't really planning on this happening — not that I'm not glad that it did..." He pauses.

"But you live in New York, and I live here. And we just met,” Jo finishes.

"I don't know how things like this work these days," he says. He's looking at her with such sincerity that Jo thinks her heart might burst. "I told you I wanted to do this right. Dinner, flowers, the whole nine yards.”

Jo cocks her head to the side and smiles. "Let's start with dinner."

_____

They lay in silence for a while, Bucky's head resting on Jo's naked breasts, her fingers running through his hair. Jo's starting to think he's fallen asleep when Bucky speaks again.

“I should probably go,” Bucky says reluctantly. "Sam was expecting my help with the boat today."

"I'll drive you," Jo says. "Just let me get dressed."

"You don't have to do that. I can call a cab."

"Delacroix's, like, an hour outside the city. It'll cost a fortune. Let me drive you."

Bucky hesitates, but Jo nudges at his right shoulder gently until he agrees. He presses a soft kiss to her lips before he stands and offers her a hand. While Bucky moves into the bathroom to change back into his own boxers and jeans, Jo slips into her room. She comes back out wearing jeans and a vintage Lilith Fair t-shirt; she's traded her glasses for contacts. Jo shoves her feet into her combat boots at the door and turns back to kiss Bucky quickly before they leave the apartment.

_____

The drive to Delacroix is quiet except for Jo's Paul Simon playlist thrumming from the car speakers. Bucky thinks he might actually like the music. Or maybe he just likes listening to Jo sing every word.

When Jo pulls up outside Sarah's house, Bucky turns to her from the passenger seat. “I don’t have your number,” he says.

“Give me your phone," she responds, smiling and holding her hand out.

Bucky unlocks his phone and hands it over. Jo saves her number before texting herself so she has his, as well. She deletes the text conversation and hands his phone back.

"There you go, Sarge," she says with a wink.

Bucky leans across the car's console and wraps his vibranium hand around the back of Jo's neck. He pulls her close and presses his lips against hers gently. Jo responds by running her fingers across the stubble on Bucky's jaw and sweeping her tongue into his mouth. A moan rumbles through Bucky's chest, and he tries to move closer to Jo's body, but he knocks his knees roughly against the center divider.

"Shit," he curses, pulling away. "It was easier to kiss a dame in the front seat of a car in the '40s," Bucky complains.

Jo laughs. "Kissing a lot of dames in cars, were you?"

"I got around," Bucky says, a grin on his face.

He feels like himself around Jo – not exactly the person he was before the war, but close. He almost feels like he could be a better version of that man; he wants to be that for Jo. For now, though, it's easy to flirt and laugh with her, watch her eyes light up and her smile brighten.

"I believe it, Sarge," Jo teases. Over Bucky's shoulder, she notices Sam standing on the front porch of the house. "I think I've stolen you away from Sam long enough," she says.

"Please, doll, steal me away anytime," Bucky flirts. He kisses her once more. "I'll see you Tuesday," he whispers, his hand lingering on her cheek before he climbs out of the car.

“Looks like someone had a good night,” Sam laughs as Bucky ascends the front porch steps.

“We are not talking about this,” Bucky grumbles.

“Oh, we’re definitely talking about this,” Sam says, clapping Bucky on the back.

______

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes romance #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fluff

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alleycat97 · 3 years

Text

The Sweetest Valentine

Queen B

Chloe x Mc (Bea)

Minor Smut*

Tag list: @fundamentalromantic @samanthadalton @penda-bear @paolaqueen5580 @iamsimpforpoppy @kwaj05 @gay-dinosaur-banana-milk-carton

Love was in the air at Belvoire. That’s right it was Valentine’s Day and our beloved Chloe couldn’t wait to spoil Bea.

“Veronica!” Chloe yelled in panic as she stormed into the girls room.

“Wow Chloe chill. What’s up?” Veronica asked jumping out of her skin.

“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day.”

“Yes? I’m aware.”

“Well I wanna do something fun and special for Bea...but I need ideas.”

“Ok you’ve come to the right place. Now listen carefully Chloe. The best gift you can get for Bea is you.” Veronica smirked.

“You mean you will wrap me up in my box? I still have it under my bed! I’ll go get it!” Chloe tried to slip away but Veronica stopped her and sighed.

“No Chloe you won’t need the box this time. All you need is, well you.”

“How do you mean?” Chloe questioned confused.

“Ok, Valentine’s Day is a day to show your partner how much they mean to you and how much you love them right?”

Chloe slowly nodded.

“And how do you show Bea you love her the most?”

“By taking her to a horse show? Bea loves horses.” Chloe smiled, while Veronica face palmed.

“No Chloe. And horses? Really?”

“She loves them!” Chloe protested.

“Forget the horses!” Veronica shouted. “You’re going to fuck her brains out tomorrow night!”

“I am?” Chloe pondered.

“Yes Chloe. Doesn’t Bea like making love with you?” Veronica asked making Chloe grin from ear to ear.

Bea always teased her girlfriend on her attributes. She claimed Chloe was 10% brains, 20% looks, 30% heart, and 40% fuck-ability, all summed up to be 100% Bea’s sweet girl.

“Yes! I can make her come over and....”

“Ok great! Wonderful idea Chloe!” Veronica shouted cutting the blonde off. “So just go out and get something sexy that she will like, maybe get some flowers and chocolates too. And bring her here for a long passionate night.”

“Ok! I think I can do that! Bye! Thanks V!” Chloe hugged her friend and ran out the door, nearly tackling Poppy in the process.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going Chloe! And stop! I need you to run an errand for me! CHLOE!”

“Save it Pops, she’s got Bea on her mind.” Veronica said leaning against her doorframe watching Chloe dash out the front door.

“Ewww, don’t tell me she’s bringing farmsville here again.” Poppy made a gagging noise.

“Just let her be happy.”

Chloe spent the afternoon doing some last minute shopping, getting the flowers, candles and an assortment of chocolate. All that was left was the sexy outfit that Bea would love, and she had just the idea.

The next night rolled around and Bea couldn’t wait to see what Chloe had in store for her. But given Chloe’s track record, she was both excited and nervous because of her girlfriends ‘creativity’.

“Hey Bea.” Veronica greeted as she opened the door, “You look cute.”

“Thanks V, as do you. You got a big Valentine’s date tonight?”

“Nah, I’m gonna go meet Ford in a bit. There’s nothing ‘big’ about it.” Veronica laughed making Bea join in.

“I’m assuming you’re gonna meet him a few minutes before bedtime?” Bea teased.

“Definitely. It’s gonna take longer to get my pants off and back on than it will to do it with him.”

“Well you try and have fun, I can’t wait to see Chloe.” Bea said giving Veronica a hug and started for her girlfriend’s room.

“Hey Pops.” Bea greeted passing Poppy on the stairs.

“Don’t talk to me loser.”

Bea grinned as she walked into Chloe’s room, startled by the surprise. Dark room, red lights, flower petals on the bed and vanilla candles burning across the room.

“Oh Chloe this is wonderful.” Bea smiled in awe.

Chloe stood from the bed and greeted B with a kiss. “I hope you like it. I’ve been working on it all day.”

“I love it. And I love you.” Bea placed a sloppy kiss to Chloe’s forehead making her smile like an idiot.

“Ok now, the food will be here in 45 minutes. That gives us plenty of time to...”Chloe started but was pulled down to the bed by a hungry Bea.

“Wait wait! I’ve got one more thing to do, and I think you’ll like this. I’ll be back in a minute!” Chloe rushed off into her bathroom locking the door shut.

Bea’s mind short circuited at the possibilities. It had to be lingerie. Chloe had a killer body and always came in clutch with her undies. But Bea couldn’t help think that everything was going too well, it was still Chloe after all.

She pushed it aside and stripped down naked and struck a pose on Chloe’s bed waiting for her. Her heart accelerated when she heard the lock on the door click and out came Chloe.

“Surprise!” Chloe squealed wearing a horse onsie.

“Chloe what the hell are you wearing?” Bea busted out.

Chloe dropped to all fours and ‘trotted’ over to Bea. “I’m a horse! I know you love horses! So now, are you gonna ride me or not?” Chloe gave a suggestive wink.

“You’re such a nerd.” Bea couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. This was perfect. “I didn’t catch the role playing memo.”

“That’s ok!” Chloe smiled crawling onto the bed, because you’re about to endure the wildest 8 second ride you’ve ever had.”

Bea couldn’t help but gulp. Chloe wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed but she could do one thing greater than anyone, and that was fuck.

“Well madam horse thingy, I guess you’re gonna need this.” Bea said giving Chloe her Valentine’s gift. “But please, lose the costume, it’ll be weird.”

Chloe immediately stripped down and strapped on her gift from Bea, aiming to please.

“Now take it easy with that thing Chloe. It’s not exactly small.” Bea grimaced as Chloe teased her entrance.

“I knew you had a thing for horses Bea. This is perfect.” Chloe groaned as she shoved herself deep into Bea making the girl belt out a moan as her toes curled inwards.

“This is gonna be fun! Happy Valentine’s Day!” Chloe grunted finding the perfect rhythm.

Bea grabbed the headboard and braced herself for the pounding Chloe was delivering. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

“I love you Bea.” Chloe said leaning down to kiss her girlfriend.

“I love you too babe.”

#playchoices #pixelberry #chloe x mc #chloe st james #bea hughes #queen b veronica #queen b chloe #queen b choices #queen b mc #queen b

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foryouthegays · 3 years

Text

techno liveblog w timestamps lets go for ‘a new home (dream SMP)’ stream

good laugh times: 00:13:50, 00:14:55, 1:38:45, ik it doesnt look like a lot but like u should watch the stream anyway bc philzas there and his laugh is amazing and they just go so well together

times techno calls phil his friend: 00:6:00 00:37:00, 00:45:17, 0:1:09:30, 01:11:15, 01:26:35, 01:50:05, 2:35:00

FSDJKFAF;LS HE KEPT THE MUTED INTRO IN JHKADFLS (ends at 00:1:25)

i like how, when faced with Leaving Youtube, techno would choose to be an author. i want a book by techno. reblog this if u want a book by techno (with an audiobook by him as well) /hj. 00:1:33

i love how he says ehhhhhh so much lskjhdfas (abt 2 mins in)

who the FUCK just remembers that the word fortuitous exists wtf 00:5:17

00:7:45 PHILZA TIME PHILZA TIME LETS GO

00:8:55 tommy time :/

0:14:10 rANBOO JUST WALKS IN, LOOKS AROUN ,AND LEA VE SIM CRYING

i love how much philza laughs at technos jokes bc pretty much everything he says IS a joke he just says it in such a serious voice that p much everyone else is like,,,yeah,,,,yup,,,,and phil just knows when hes joking and his laugh is so good with technos voice. sbi? whos that? i only know philza and technoblade

00:19:30 ghostbur joins! this is my first time hearin ghostbur btw

00:19:40 haha string axe technos so bad at crafting what a fool /j

00:21:07 ghostbur: “Even I remember how to make a fishing rod!” ghostbur u just MURDERED technoblade oh my god im gonna scream hgjdfksla i love ghostbur so much

00:23:55: GHOSTBUR NO!! DON’T DIE YOU’LL BECOME A DOUBLE GHOST!!!! -technoblade 2020

00:24:55 technoblade neva lies -guys he almost did the technoblade neva dies ahh!!!!!

i havent heard anyone talk about this but techno has a dedicated roleplay voice. like listen to him talk to tommy at 00:25:08. his voice gets more even, he uses names a lot more often (seriously, listen to his theseus speech. he says tommy so often, its incredible.), and his voice gets,,,,deeper? not deeper but smoother, in a way, and he repeats what he says for emphasis instead of humor. and his voice is louder, and he seems more assertive.

00:27:30 philza: where we goin, by the way? techno: to our- to my new home.

techno cmon let phil live w u wed get so much more content cmonn

00:28:50 the fact that he calls the manhunt theme “dream music” makes me laugh so hard. and then his version of it,,,,,m love he (also he sings it here and at 01:14:20)

00:35:10 why is ranboo so cryptic im-

why does he just casually know the word sentry wh at i hate him 00:39:45

this is the worst sentence (structurally) ive ever heard techno say im gonna cry 00:49:33 ‘im too busy thinkin of new ideas to sleep so i could actually execute them’ and tubbos *oh?* after is just hdsfgkjlka

LKSJDHFJK 00:51:49

00:54:30

techno: thats one of dreams powers, he can just stop the rain

tubbo, quietly: like jesus!

i love them sm dsfhkjla they kept going but i jus gdfhjksa jesus has op

techno @ being the second worst thing to ever happen to those orphans: haha funnie!!

techno @ having fun w religious stuff: i wILL BE CANCELLED NO-

00:58:10 “hey if ur [ghostbur] a ghost, do instant damage potions heal you now?” “...no,, they hurt me still :(” DSIULZKJHFSLKFJH

01:04:00 his brother named the cow bob im- aww

also he has a fanart wall again!!!

01:09:30 “phil, you’re the only friend i have left in this world.” aWWWWW HE GAVE HIM THE COMPASS

“dont smoke, it’s a joke” -technoblade 01:14:15

ROLEPLAY SPEECH VOICE IS BACK AT 1:16:10 “they pillage my base for everything i’m worth, they use me for the revolution, but oooOOOoo i took a pickaxe with his consent? oOOOooOo i’m a thief!”

holy shit 01:17:15 “you know what, phil? for you, the world, alright? it’s fine.” oH MY GOD HHHHGHG (context, right before they were arguing bc phil took some blocks from his base and techno thought that when he said phil could take anything he meant from the chests)

the COMIDY of that villager coming in and sleeping while techno was readin donos at 01:22:05 RIGHT AFTER phil freaked out abt inturruptin his dono readin im SFDHKJLA:

techno talkin bout the winstreak and how he wont be able to live up to that sort of playin at 01:22:30ish is super important and ill transcribe it tomorrow, but if u can id highly rec watchin it.

01:24:20 “[readin dono] what’s your favorite movie? uh, the princess bride is pretty good” techno ily that movie rocks also he said it so fast like hes ashamed of it noo

techno says no to canon ranboo son btw! 01:25:30

01:25:55 “i wasnt in that story, therefore it doesnt matter” all of technoblr be like

01:37:49 is great lemmie transcribe

“how have you still not gotten a second monitor?? holy shit.”

“let me tell you something. and im only telling you this because i know that so many people in the chat are gonna be furious. so i recently realized- i think the second monitor can just be any ol’ monitor, right? you literally just plug it in, and its set up? well i mean you have to turn on some settings, but like, thats it, or something?”

“yeah,,,,, uh techno you fuckin destroyed my chat, by the way, oh my god, [earlier techno told his viewers to twitch prime philza] there has been like 40 primes just flying through”

“yeahhh twitch prime!!! twitch prime philza yeahh!!! so anyways the other day, i like, i looked to my left, and realized that my old monitor has been like, five feet away from where i sit and stream for the last three years?”

“oh my god...”

“so i- i literally do not have to leave my room to set up a second monitor and i havent. and i’m still usin my laptop for this stream.

“is this gonna be one of those situations where you like, you have a thing, you just refuse to do the thing?”

“listen, my desk is-

“yOU STILL HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE!!!”

“AHHHH I HAVENT OPENED UP THE HYPIXEL PACKAGE! I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY MCC COIN! DUDE I HAVENT EVEN OPENED UP MY ONE MILLION SUBSCRIBER PLAQUE! ITS STILL THERE RIGHT BEHIND ME! ITs sTILL IN THE BOX! i never made a video on it....”

“bruhhhhh [philza laughs] thats FREE VIEWS what are you doing??”

“ill open it at 8 mil :/.”

“you could LITERALLY make a video of you just like, throwing it off a wall, and then thumbing up, like doing a thumbs up, and then that would be it. 10 seconds. ten seconds. thumb and elbow in shot. [laughs]”

techno is such a disaster i love him

01:34:18 the way techno says “tommy, that statement has NEVER been true” i dont like sayin i simp for block men but GOD sometimes his voice is nicer than usual hhhgn

“man i sure wish tommyinnit was in this stream” -nobody ever (just after previous timestamp)

01:40:15 is fuckin hilarious and im actually crying oh my god techno just says things and says them well with a completely straight face how does he do it

i cannot WAIT until theres a president w the last/first name andy so we can say president andy and think abt technoblade

IM CRIASDNGUSFHD 01:44:38 PHILZA LOOK OUT LOOK OUT PHILZA LSKJDAFJASD;LKF

i love when techno talks abt his vids. like u can tell he puts a lot of thought into the vids (esp these ones) and like at 01:47:00 he talks abt the “I DIDNT PUT DEAPTH STRIDER ON THOSE BOOTS, FUNDY!” and how its just that creepin realization that you were doomed from the start and how he made the armor, he isnt intimidated by the netherite bc he didnt enchant it all the way and only he knows that,,, and i just,,,hgg he

he reveals that hes writin the next arc at 01:48:00: “oh, speakin of arcs, chat, i’m writing the next arc. so, you know. hope nothin bad happens in two weeks, chat!” IM SO EXCITED like he clearly has his character fleshed out and is SO good at writing and retellin history im so so excited to see where he takes it AHHHH and also taht means he might stream more bc he might make his character more important (keep in mind this is the guy who wrote self insert hypixel fanfics. he has no shame in puttin himself first and i respect him so much for it)

01:51:20 “they’re tryin to get a second customer but they’re riskin their first” is lowkey a good line

has anyone else noticed that techno says wise a lot? like at 01:55:10 he literally says “wise dragon armor” as a joke but like i think he says wise so much BECAUSE of skyblock like hjkfdsla

01:57:30 techno plea se eat

ok 1:58:45 is hilarious and all but at the end of his ramble he says “come back, i miss you” and lowkey im crying

techno needs to stop knowing his audience more than we know ourselves im hsfkjda 02:05:25 “the chat’s spammin ‘eat technoblade, eat!’ like they’re not gonna start, like, theyre not gonna get super sad if i ended the stream right now, like theyre not gonna all cry ‘i miss technoblade *sniffs* why- whyd he leave to eat food, why did he listen to our advice noooo’”

02:14:50 NEW VIDEO POGGGG CARL THE HORSE POGGGGGG NOT A STREAM HIGHLIGHT POGGGGG

02:17:40 “i could start a potato farm out here to show how much ive changed” techno last time u made a potato farm u started an entire war that lasted a year that does NOT say calm and retired to me lskgdfjagsldj

02:23:00 why does techno just reference greek mythology so much. makin me scared for his arc.

also he talks abt smp earth a lot in this stream i love it so much

i also just. love?? how much sbi respect tommy like they bully him but when talkin bout him they just have so much respect for how much work he puts into youtube and i just,,,,hgnn they r friends

02:33:13 sbi streamer house lets go cmon

02:34:15 “i think if i streamed every day i could keep up” on one hand YE S but on the ohter oh god techno no we have to keep up tho

hearing techno say “violence isnt the answer” is so scary 02:35:40

02:37:30 technosneeze

hiS BROTHER SENT HIM 46 DISCORD MESSAGES SFKDJLFLKASF 2:49:25 i love his end screen so much hes just sadness,,,,retirement,,,t,echnoblade,,,the government is going to fall on its own due to lack of organization and ideals,,,,,,subscribe,,,,,sadness,,,,,also 2:50:45 is making me laugh so hard its just sad music and technos like??? whys phil in my house drinking milk?????

overall, fantastic stream, if ya want some chill techno philza content i highly recommend.

#stream post

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captainseaweedbrains · 4 years

Text

The Dance of the Color Guard, Op. 64 Ch. 3

Everlark meets marching band meets enemies to friends to lovers.

Tumblr: X X X

Read on Ao3: X X X

May

There wasn’t a single childhood memory Katniss could pull that didn’t involve Peeta Mellark. Try as she might to ever forget they were friends—and she tried her hardest to forget—it was next to impossible. Peeta and her were, once upon a time, inseparable. Glued at the hip. Her parents used to tease that only the moonlight could separate them and even then, in the summertime, Peeta spent many nights sleeping on the living room floor next to her, giggling as they watched movies and ate popcorn, Prim snoring beside them.

And then with her dad being an avid photographer, there were boxes of family albums documenting Katniss and Prim growing up throughout the years. From first steps to bath times together to dance and music recitals—her dad documented it all. “For future biographers,” he used to joke whenever Katniss would complain why they always had to take a picture of everything. She’d roll her eyes in response and just let him snap away. There was no stopping the man. Now she wished she could take back all her tweenage-angst and let him take as many photos as he wanted of her. But she didn’t know what she knew now. Thus was life.

On the rare occasion when he relented with the camera and accepted that she was not going to cooperate with any poses he suggested, Peeta was more than happy to step in and take her place, joking how his many admirers at school would kill for a candid photo of him. “It’s not candid if you’re posing, stupid,” she used to tell him, but he’d kindly tell her to shut her piehole and offer up suggestions on where to take the picture next, her dad eating Peeta’s enjoyment up with each click of the shutter.

Peeta was in a lot of her family photos. It was impossible to flip through any family album after Katniss had turned three and not find him. Due to his parents constantly working at their family bakery turned mini corporation, Peeta and his older brother Rye were often left to fend for themselves and from early morning until sundown, Rye would kick Peeta out of the house and lock the door. Rye’s dickish behavior was actually how the two met—Katniss hearing Peeta screaming across their yard, asking if he was dying because he was crying by his back door, fists slamming the glass.

“No,” he sniffed, rubbing his puffy red eyes. “My brudder—l-l-locked—me—o-o- ooout!” Peeta hiccupped, his hysteria growing with each syllable until he was back to crying for Rye to let him in.

“My daddy’s makin’ pancakes,” Katniss offered from her deck. “He makes them with funny faces and makes them sing. Want some?”

There probably should have been some type of introduction between them before Katniss invited this total stranger into her home, but when Peeta came in with her, her dad just smiled and told him to pull up a chair. Names were finally exchanged over gooey chocolate chip pancakes and they became instant friends.

After that, instead of crying when Rye would inevitably lock him out of his own home, Peeta would cross over to the Everdeen’s yard and walk on in, shouting out his greetings to whoever was in the kitchen at the time and seeing what she or her dad were up to for the day. There were countless memories of Katniss coming downstairs after playing with Prim and finding Peeta and her dad casually working together on the morning crossword puzzle at the kitchen table, or out in her mother’s garden doing yard work and chatting about everything and anything. He was always there, ready to hang out and see what she had in mind for them to do that day, and their photo albums showed it. Birthday parties, family dinners, sleepovers, holidays—there Peeta was, all smiles and dimples.

Peeta Mellark was a huge fixture in the Everdeen household until one day he just wasn’t. One day he was there, making her laugh so hard, milk came out her nose, and the next, he was gone and those boxes of happy family photos were just sad reminders of what used to be.

No dad.

No best friend.

It was fine. She was fine.

Except maybe she wasn’t? It annoyed her that Peeta could still dig under her skin like that, his words in the locker room playing on repeat in her mind. At least her nerves about tryouts had a chance to calm down between stressing about Abernathy’s mocking jabs about her playing and her annoyance at Peeta thinking her a heartless loner. So what if she preferred to do things alone? It meant she was independent, mature for her young age. Was that such a bad thing?

And what was up with accusing her of not being there for people? Not caring for them? Did she have to remind him that he made his choice and ditched her ? That the second her dad died, he split? Was he ever really her friend, or was he just using her to get to her dad because his dad wasn’t around? Katniss had been wondering that for years, but didn’t have the courage to ask because she just knew if she did, she’d start to cry and shout at him and maybe shove him a bit and he and his stupid friends would laugh and probably call her a psychopath bitch.

What a fucking hypocrite Peeta Mellark was, calling her heartless when he was guilty of so much worse.

The final bell rang at last, freeing everyone for the day. Katniss was so caught up in her anger over Peeta and Mr. Abernathy and really, just everyone at this point, that she almost forgot about the call sheet posting. Almost. As soon as Madge reminded her, asking if she wanted to walk over there with her and Gale, all those nerves resurfaced as they headed over to the band room. She kept discreetly wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, preparing herself to be disappointed, to expect someone like Glimmer to get it, but please, whoever was listening up there, please let her have made captain. If this crappy hellish day could give her just one thing, let it be that.

“I can’t look,” Katniss panicked when she saw the neon pink sign taped to the window connecting to the band office, halting in her steps. “If I didn’t make captain, I don’t know what I’ll do. Punch something?”

Madge rolled her eyes and offered to check for her. “If Trinket didn’t make you captain, she clearly tripped in those heels and is suffering from some head trauma. Let’s see.” Her manicured finger scrolled down the long list of names until stopping on the Es. “Hm. Katniss, I don’t see your name on here at all.”

Her heart jolted. “What? That can’t be.” She wasn’t positive on being captain, but she was positive she’d at least make the team . Were the theatre and dance kids really that much better? She shoved Gale and Madge aside, looking for her name. Abrams...Banks...Carroll...Daly...Edwards...Evans... Everdeen! And there was an asterisk next to her name! She was captain of next season’s color guard!

“You asshole!” she laughed, shoving Madge in the shoulder. “I’m captain!” She couldn’t help the large smile stretching across her face. She was captain!

“You are!” Madge cheered, giving her a big tight hug. “Congratulations, Katniss! I’m so proud of you!”

“Totally not surprised,” Gale said, messing up her hair in a brotherly fashion. She shoved his hand away and gave a playful glare. “And what about my favorite guard member?” he asked, looking down at Madge. “Did you make it, too?”

Madge gave him a sweet smile and looked further down the list before pumping her fists in excitement. “I did! I made it! Take that Shelly Shoemon from 4th grade for saying I had the coordination skills of a cow!”

“Totally not surprised,” Gale said again, laughing as he pulled his girlfriend in for a kiss. They locked lips for a while before Katniss cleared her throat and suggested they get a room if they wanted to continue. The couple smiled, Madge’s freckled cheeks tinted pink, but broke apart, their hands remaining clasped together.

“Should we head over to Sae’s for burgers and ice cream to celebrate?” Gale suggested. “Thom just paid me for fixing his car, so I have the cash to spend.” Both girls happily agreed to his suggestion, excited to share the news with Sae, the diner’s owner and local grandmother to anyone under the age of 40. Good news didn’t feel real until sharing it with Sae.

“Katniss,” Miss Trinket shouted from somewhere in her office, “is that you?” Her head popped out the doorway, startling the three. “Excellent, dear! I’ve been waiting to speak with you about something. Come in! Come in!” Her hand motioned for her to follow.

“Oh.” Katniss looked over at Gale and Madge, unsure what to say. “Am I in trouble?”

Miss Trinket laughed. “No, not at all! I just need to discuss some color guard things with my new captain.” She sang the last word, putting great emphasis on the middle consonants, and glared behind her at, presumably, Mr. Abernathy who probably said something rude in a remark.

“Sure, yeah,” Katniss said, feeling a bit dumb. Of course Miss Trinket wanted to jump right into the thick of things. The woman was the Energizer Bunny on crack when it came to choreography and scheduling. Of course she’d want to talk to her captain about the game plan and how she expected they execute it. “I’m free to talk.” Miss Trinket smiled and stepped back in her office.

Katniss turned to Madge and Gale, wearing an apologetic smile . “I’ll meet you at Sae’s?” They nodded, not minding the wait, and wished her luck, telling her to text when she was leaving school.

*********

The first thing Katniss noticed amiss when stepping into the adjoined office was Peeta Mellark casually sitting there in front of Mr. Abernathy’s desk, flipping through a pile of sheet music. It wasn’t unusual for band students to volunteer time helping the surly man try to keep the band program organized, but it seemed a little late for a volunteer to still be in here. Abernathy and Trinket were a lot to take and only bearable in small, manageable doses. Most booked it the second the bell rang.

She paused in the doorway, unsure if she misunderstood Miss Trinket. She meant for them to talk now, right? So what was Peeta doing here?

“Ah, Katniss,” Miss Trinket said, sifting through a stack of notes, not noticing her hesitation. “Take a seat, please.” She motioned to the wooden chair in front of her desk.

Still unsure what was going on, Katniss gingerly sat down in the offered chair, her bag in her lap, and waited to see what exactly Miss Trinket wanted to talk about with Peeta still here. Guard stuff wasn’t technically private, but it’s not like it was riveting information either. Something didn’t feel right here.

Miss Trinket cleared her throat, catching Katniss’ attention from not looking at Peeta, and folded her hands on top of her desk with a bright, fluorescent smile. “Katniss, I want to be the first to congratulate you on a job well done. Your audition was truly inspiring. Honestly, I wish I could have taped it to show future guard members what true dedication looks like.” Katniss’ cheeks darkened at her director’s lavish compliments.

“Thank you, Miss Trinket,” she said quietly, feeling a tad uncomfortable being told this in front of Peeta and Mr. Abernathy. “I tried my hardest.”

“And it shows, dear. It truly shows.” The assistant director looked down at her notes, reading from one of the piles she was sifting through earlier, her long fingernails idly tapping the top metal surface in thought. “In fact,” she said, “I was so impressed with your audition, I’ve decided to make you a very prominent figure in this season’s show. The show’s leading star, as it were.”

“I’m—um. What?” And then Miss Trinket proceeded to happily explain her vision for how their band was going to tell the tragic tale of Romeo and Juliet, with the occasional grunts from Mr. Abernathy here and there. She explained how she envisioned the houses being represented by the color guard and drumline, feuding together on the field as the music from the band crescendos to the climatic finish.

“Next to you, Katniss,” Miss Trinket said, holding up what looked like a handwritten list of names, “I haven’t quite decided who will play who for color guard, but we have time to iron out these details, dear. What concerns me is how long it is taking Boggs to decide who made it for drumline.” Her eyes slitted at Abernathy. “It seems someone forgot to pass along the deadline I imposed so we could avoid this exact problem.” Mr. Abernathy just gave a noncommittal shrug and continued flipping through the scorebook he was looking at. Miss Trinket rubbed at the corner of her eyes and gave Katniss an exasperated look before continuing on.

“It took some wheedling to get him to bend to my will, but I do believe many of our seasonal veterans are returning to drumline this year, Peeta being one of them.” She smiled warmly at the boy. For someone finding out good news, Peeta looked bored out of his mind sitting there, listening as Miss Trinket prattled on about visions and forbidden love and what this will mean for the band come competition season.

This all felt like a lot. Like a lot a lot.

“So let me get this straight,” Katniss said slowly, trying to process it all and not throw up like her stomach wanted. “You want me to be Juliet? Like the Juliet who falls in love and dies at the end? That Juliet?”

If it was at all possible, Miss Trinket’s smile grew, making Katniss feel even sicker. “The very one, my dear! Oh, Katniss, I cannot tell you how thrilled I am to have you as our Juliet. I’ve had my guesses who you’d play for a while now, since I decided we should do Romeo & Juliet a few months back, really.” Mr. Abernathy snorted at that but said nothing to contradict her. “But now, after seeing how much you’ve improved since last season? Truly inspiring! And with your tiny frame, I think we can finally bring air flips into the mix now! Wouldn’t that look amazing under stadium lights?”

Katniss really felt like she was going to be sick now. “You want me to be a spotlight guard?” Her voice sounded a bit squeaky to her ears. “But that’s—I’ve never been a spotlight guard before! Especially not something to that kind of scale. They’re, like, really important. Like judges judging them important.”

It was Peeta’s turn to laugh next to her, trying to cover it up with a cough when she turned to glare at him. Why was he here?

Katniss took a deep breath in to try and quiet the loud ringing noise suddenly blaring in her ears. She was clearly not making a first good impression as captain, but this was so unexpected! Miss Trinket had never had her be a spotlight before. Ever. It was one thing being captain, but this, having her performance carry the entire story? Yeah, no thanks.

“Are you sure you want it to be me?” she asked, her voice a lot calmer than she felt. “I was thinking you’d want someone like Madge—or Glimmer—for something this important. You’re always saying how swan-like Glimmer is on the field. Don’t you want Juliet to look like a swan?”

“Told you she wouldn’t be for it,” Peeta muttered next to her, a knowing smile on his face as he shook his head in amusement. Oh, he just thought he knew everything about her, didn’t he? Like he was some Katniss Everdeen expert.

“Why are you even here?” she finally asked him. “This clearly has nothing to do with you. Can’t you file music somewhere else?”

“Isn’t it a bit obvious why I’m here, Katniss?” he asked her incredulously, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “I thought you were more observant than this.”

Before she could reply, Miss Trinket held her hands up. “Enough! Peeta, I’ll kindly ask you to please sit there quietly, as we discussed.” Discussed? When did they have time to discuss this? Then she remembered earlier. Miss Trinket needing to speak with Peeta, breaking up their argument. They were discussing her? Why did Peeta have to know that Miss Trinket wanted her as Juliet. She was clearly missing something obvious, like Peeta said, but her mind was shot. Barely able to process anything anymore as her anxiety kicked into gear.

“And, Katniss.” She looked up at the sound of her name. “Please keep an open mind about this. I understand to some, being a lead is scary, but trust me when I say, I have my absolute faith in you.

“Madge and Glimmer are talented girls, yes,” Miss Trinket explained, “but I’m afraid they are too tall for what I have in mind for choreography. You know how important these things can be. We need someone petite like you, Katniss. Someone Peeta can easily pick up and twirl without fear of dropping.” She motioned a manicured hand at Peeta, his face staring at her expectantly.

But Katniss’ brain was still running in circles. “Peeta’s not on guard. Why would he be picking me up?”

Miss Trinket’s patient smile looked strained now. “As I already told you,” she said slowly, surely believing Katniss dense now, “Guard and drumline will be representing the two houses. Guard will be Capulet and drumline Montague. Peeta’s on drumline, so naturally he’d be our star Montague.”

Her mind finally caught up to what everyone was suggesting. “Wait,” she said, sitting at the edge of her seat now. “If I’m Juliet and you’re saying he’s the star…” Her focus drifted to Peeta, who gave an amused, cocky wave, surely enjoying the multitude of emotions crossing her face in this moment. Her stomach dropped, this news hitting her harder than the spotlight one. “You’re Romeo?”

Instead of just answering with a simple yes/no like a normal person, or even some Ding! Ding! Ding! joke, Peeta lowered himself to the floor and responded in all his annoyingly obnoxious flair: “‘But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.’” He closed his eyes on the last word and reached for her hand, giving it a gentle kiss, his lips soft and warm against her now clammy skin. She swatted her hand away, tucking it around her bag for protection.

No. No, no, no. No!

This had to be a mistake. Her and Peeta Mellark? As Romeo and Juliet?

That was what Miss Trinket wanted to talk to him about, she realized. It wasn’t about her at all. She wanted to talk to him about being Romeo for the field show.

“I don’t understand,” Katniss said at last, when her stomach had finally recovered itself. “How can Peeta be Romeo when he’s going to be busy marching around with a snare drum? What about Finnick? He’s tall. Taller than Peeta, for sure. I’m sure he could just as easily lift me.”

Was she seriously that desperate to prefer the preening peacock Finnick Odair?

Yes, yes she was.

“Finnick will most likely play our Tybalt,” Miss Trinket remarked. “And as he is on guard, he will play a Capulet role.”

“What about gender bending the role?” Katniss suggested. “Who says Juliet has to be a girl? We are in the 21st century. And didn’t Shakespeare have men play the female roles, anyway? Let Finnick play Juliet to Peeta’s Romeo. He’d be perfect in the role.”

“Should I feel insulted that you don’t want to be my partner, Katniss?” Peeta innocently asked, enjoying this way too much. Her fists gripped her bag hard, her eyes deadly slits. People often told her how intimidating she looked, but Peeta didn’t even bat an eye. He was all smiles and dimples. If only looks could kill...

“Katniss,” Miss Trinket said curtly, snapping her attention back on the director, “I chose you as my next in command because I trust in your talent and know you are a driven young woman who people look up to. Now we both want the pleasure of seeing this band win first place at PSU, don’t we?”

“Yes, but—”

“And we will do what is necessary to move this band toward that goal, correct?”

“Of course, but—”

“But nothing, Everdeen,” Mr. Abernathy interjected at last, kicking his feet off the tall pile of sheet music laying by his desk. “You want to win?” He shook his hand at her, not needing a response. “Stupid question. Of course you do. I can see it all over your face. You’re too competitive to hide it. Well, to win you have to please the judges. Plain and simple. Judges like this kind of flair nonsense. So play our star-crossed lovers—”

“We’re not star-crossed lovers!” Katniss grit out, a bit harder than she intended, unable to look at Peeta as she said it. Not like it mattered. She could practically feel his amusement radiating off his person. “This won’t work, Mr. Abernathy. Don’t you want people who’ll get along? Peeta and I hate each other. We have for a really long time.”

“Who cares?” Mr. Abernathy asked, throwing his hands up in exasperation, his longish black hair falling in his face from the motion. “Pretend. Act like your lovesick classmates. I don’t care. It’s all a big show, anyway, and if pairing you two up wins us enough brownie points to win and shuts Trinket up for a year, then that’s what we’re going to do. Mellark’s already agreed to it and he’s never danced a day in his life. So now it’s your turn to be a good girl and agree to the plan, Everdeen. Got it?”

“Got it,” she muttered, slouching low in her chair. Of all the things she expected to hear today, pretending to be in love with Peeta Mellark was not one of them. This was definitely going to blow up in everyone’s faces, she was sure of it. Putting on a performance smile for judges was one thing, but acting like she was in love with Peeta was another. And then hoping he wouldn’t drop her when doing those stupid flips Miss Trinket mentioned? She was going to be in a body cast by the end of the season.

Peeta seemed to have dropped the amusement act at last, mirroring her sour mood as the two directors discussed extra one-on-one rehearsal time with Miss Trinket to better prepare Peeta since he had zero dance experience. Katniss tried to pay attention, but she couldn’t stop her eyes from glancing over at Peeta, wondering what he could possibly be thinking during all this. His jaw was clenched, she could tell, but he wasn’t looking at her or Trinket or even Abernathy. He was focusing on picking at a hole in his jeans, his eyebrows scrunched together. She understood the conflict—was feeling it herself—but he didn’t look mad. Just...troubled. Like something was said that he was having a hard time with.

Where to begin? Katniss thought bitterly, still unable to believe they were actually being forced to play Romeo and Juliet, like they were in some teenage drama or something.

“I know we have lots to work on, but just seeing the two of you together like this,” Miss Trinket said, motioning between them, “tells me I made the right decision. Look how adorable you two look! Pearls on a necklace! Didn’t I say that’s what they reminded me of, Haymitch?” She turned to Abernathy, who was now busy digging dirt from under his nails with his baton. Miss Trinket frowned before catching herself. “I did, I did! I said that earlier when I found you talking in the back.” She winked and oh god. Could they just go already?

********

It took another fifteen minutes of talking and goodbyes that were very much not goodbyes before they were truly free from the office. Katniss bolted out the side door as quickly as she could, cursing under her breath at how long she’d been in there. That took almost an hour! Madge and Gale were probably wondering what was taking so long. Or maybe not. It was Trinket, after all.

The parking lot was nearly empty now as she crossed it, digging around for her battered up phone to text. Hopefully they were still up for burgers because after that talk...yeah. She needed the greasiest burger available. Wait until she tells her friends she’s playing Juliet and that Peeta Mellark was her Romeo. They might not believe her, thinking it a practical joke and asking what Trinket really wanted. That’s how absurd this whole situation sounded.

“Katniss!” she heard her name called out. “Hey, wait up!” She turned and saw Peeta waving her down, his long legs quickly catching up to her. Part of her wanted to pretend she didn’t hear him and keep moving, her car just across the street from where she stood. It’d be a safer bet, too, moving along, because nothing good was ever said when she was upset. This afternoon being a prime example. But for some reason, she was curious what Peeta had to say about all this. She stopped at the street corner and pretended to check for traffic despite the road being empty of any moving vehicle.

“Damn,” he laughed, a bit breathless as he caught up next to her. “I forgot how fast your fight or flight response is.”

“I’m not fleeing,” she frowned, checking the street for real this time before crossing. She dug around the front pocket of her book bag, pulling out both her keys and phone. “School’s done and I’m going to Sae’s with Gale and Madge. You know, my friends.”

“I know who Gale and Madge are.”

“Just checking,” she stated cooly, flipping her braid over her shoulder, “since you practically accused me of having none earlier.”

He winced. “Yeah, not the finest thing I’ve ever said. I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine, Peeta.” It wasn’t, but if she kept telling herself that, maybe she’ll believe it. “We can’t all be Mr. Popular like you.”

“Right.” He looked back at the student parking lot where he parked. Unlike her family, his could afford the $350 the school charged for a parking space. “Listen, about what you said in there. About us hating each other.” Katniss raised an eyebrow, curious where this would lead. “I don’t...hate you.”

Well that was...unexpected. Was that why he looked so troubled in the meeting? Because she said they hated each other? She took a step back from him, realizing he was closer than she felt comfortable with, and waited for the rest of it. It didn’t sound like he was finished, like there was a big but hanging at the end of his sentence. What else did he want to say? But I still don’t really like you? But I think you’re annoying and working with you is going to suck? But I think you’re a bitch? Honestly, the list could go on about all the negative things Peeta could say about her, but he said nothing. He just looked down at his shoes and kicked at some loose pebbles in the street.

“Oh,” she said, unsure what else there was to say. “I guess that will make rehearsal easier.”

He nodded, a bit too jerky to look natural. “Yeah. I just—it’s important to me that you know that I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. Mad beyond belief? Yeah. Lots of times, actually. But never hate. I could never hate you, Katniss.”

“Oh,” she said again, dumbfounded. “Well, thanks, Peeta. I guess. That’s... Good to know.” And just because her sour mood couldn’t help itself, “I’ll be able to sleep happy tonight knowing you don’t hate me.” She made a face, instantly regretting her words, and yanked open her car door, needing to just leave. “Listen, I gotta go. Gale and Madge are already waiting for me and Trinket took forever rambling about how we’re pearl necklaces. They’re waiting for me.”

He didn’t say anything as she got in the car, the loud, embarrassing screech of her engine once on making any type of conversation near impossible to hold. He stepped away and gave a halfhearted wave, all bravado gone now, as she pulled away from the curb. By the time she thought to wave back, it was too late and her car was halfway down the street.

God, she really was a heartless bitch.

*******

It was only hours later—after returning home from drowning her frustrations in the thickest chocolate shake Sae could make and celebrating her good news with her mom and sister over pizza—did she allow herself to think about Peeta Mellark.

On a whim, she pulled the framed photo she kept of her and her dad off her nightstand and held it, her grip tightening as she studied the ridiculous faces they’re making at the camera. It was one of the last pictures they took together before his passing. She can’t remember what prompted them to make the faces, but she wished she could go back and make them again with him. To be with her dad for just one more day. One more hour, even. She’d do anything for that.

Katniss closed her eyes and hugged the frame close to her chest for a moment, trying to stop any tears from slipping past her tight emotional control. She was safe to cry in her room, but wanted to wait until she was in bed with the lights turned off before crying over this emotionally draining day.

When it felt like she had her emotions under control, Katniss used her longest fingernail to lift the tabs on the back of the frame and carefully took the picture out, unfolding the right-half of it to reveal a young curly-haired Peeta smiling up at her, her dad’s arm thrown over his shoulders.

She stared at the full photo for the longest time, remembering how mad she was at him for taking this one simple thing from her. She never minded Peeta being in her family photos before. She sometimes pulled him in for ones when her dad or mom shouted, “Picture time! Show us your pearly whites!” But that was when she still thought they’d have more time. Why wouldn’t there be more time? Dads weren’t supposed to die until you were old and had kids of your own. That’s how it was supposed to be. They weren’t supposed to die when you’re eleven and barely old enough to understand the cruelty of the world. The unfairness of it all.

Katniss barely remembered a time when it was just her and her dad. Alone. No Peeta. No Prim. Just Dad and her.

She didn’t even have a good photo of just the two of them.

Just boxes upon boxes of photos of him, her, and Peeta.

The magical trio.

The full photo didn’t bring up any past resentment this time, though. Instead, it reminded her how much fun the three of them used to have, bumming around town while Aunt Lulu watched Prim at her shop, singing along to the radio and playing Punch Buggy. Her dad always made it a point to include Peeta on any outing they made, even if it involved going to the grocery store. How disappointed Dad would be seeing us now, she thought, tracing over his face with her thumb. Her and Peeta not friends anymore.

But Peeta Mellark doesn’t hate her. Katniss didn’t understand why hearing that felt like a weight had lifted off her, but she felt lighter now, the more she thought about it. Like it was easier to breathe again.

“Peeta Mellark doesn’t hate me,” she whispered to the photo, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. A small smile pulled at her lips and she said it again. “He doesn’t hate me, Dad.”

Katniss didn’t understand why Peeta thought it was important she knew he didn’t hate her, but it was all her mind kept thinking of, and she was glad to hear it.

He didn’t hate her. He never had.

#Everlark fanfiction #The Hunger Games Fanfiction #The Hunger Games #Everlark #Everlark fanfic #My writing #The Dance of the Color Guard Op. 64 #I realized in the sneak peek I put ch 4 instead of 3 #because I forget prologue is different #*face palm*#I hope you enjoy!!#Like and reblog!#Let me know what you think!#Finally getting the ball ROLLING

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boozieshavingababy · 3 years

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Surviving Baby #2!

I’ve decided that I’m going to break this up into multiple parts. Mostly for my sanity haha! I’m writing it between moments of quiet, which isn’t often!

So here is part one!

Being a mom is a pretty stressful, thankless job. Being a new mom is even more stressful. There are no real-life lessons on how to keep your tiny humans alive. Once they place your baby in your arms, it’s time to hit the ground running.

I will say that most of it is pure instinct. After a couple of hours, you start to learn when they are hungry or tired. But there are moments when you question if you’re doing anything right, and I promise you mama, you’re doing amazing. You know exactly how to take care of you little baby.

I’m what they call a “seasoned mom.” I have a four year old and welcomed my second son into the world a month and a half ago. Even though I remember everything from my first born, every baby is different. What works for one, doesn’t work for another and that’s what I’m learning. There are also things that I did with my first son, that I’m doing differently with my second. I thought I would take the time and go through what has helped me survive that few weeks with a newborn and a four year old.

First, I’m going to start with the essentials and that includes feeding, diapering, and clothing. I will link everything that I have been using, as well.

Feeding-

With my first born he was strictly given formula. At the time I was unsure if I was going to be returning to my job as a sales associate for my current job. Though, I did breastfeed in the hospital, it just wasn’t for me at the time. This time however, I have been exclusively pumping while also supplementing with formula.

This has been a huge deal for me. This is something that I decided I would do, when I was still pregnant. I had extensive discussions with my husband, even though I knew it was ultimately my decision, that is just how our relationship works. I wanted his opinion. We both agreed that it would be better for my mental health if I pumped. That way my husband could feed the baby if I needed him to or if our oldest wanted to feed him.

I got my breast pump from a website called aeroflow. They have a wide variety of pumps available. You submit your insurance information and the tell you which ones are covered by your insurance. You pick the one you would like, and they ship it to you close to your due date. I got mine within a week, about a month before I was supposed to go in for my c-section.

I chose the Motif Luna Double Electric Pump. I did my research and looked at reviews. It was 100% covered by my insurance and so far, I have not had any issues! I also bought myself a Haaka Silicone Breast Pump that is great to have for clogged ducts and catching milk from the other breast if you breast feed. It’s a great thing to have!

As I mentioned before, I am also supplementing with formula. Now, this is going to be different for every baby and every budget. I also have done a TON of research! With my first born, he was given Gerber Good Start. This time, we have been using Similac Pro-Total Comfort. It’s what we were given in the hospital and it’s worked for his belly. I was given a few samples of Enfamil and Similac from his pediatrician and via the mail. We tried them with him and this one just seemed to keep him full and happy, that’s how we discovered that he has a sensitive tummy.

You can try to go for what’s best for your wallet, but in the end, if it agrees with your baby then don’t change it.

Diapering

Ah, diapers. Diapers, Diapers, Diapers. This is kind of a big one for me. So many babies react differently to different brands of diapers. You will get diapers at your baby shower, I promise. People will give you different brands and it’s best to try them. My boys haven’t had any reactions to any brand of diaper, so far. My four year old used Target Up&Up. They were great, not just for his bottom, but for our wallet too. Having our newborn, I knew we would use them again and they have been tried and true. No leaks, no rashes, nothing.

Buuuut material isn’t the only thing you need to look for. Size is a big thing too. If your tiny human is anything like my boys are and were, they will grow out of diapers quicker than others. My boys only wore newborn diapers while we were in the hospital and as soon as we were home, they were peeing out of them constantly. Usually, when that happens, it’s time to move them up to the next size of diapers. So far, no leaks. I’m not sure if it’s the same concept for girls. I only have and will only have boys.

If your little one hasn’t shown any signs of a sensitivity to diapers, definitely look into buying the store brand of diapers. You can by the biggest box from Target (size 1 has 192!) for $22! Pampers (size 1 has 164) is $40! You get more for less money. And who doesn’t love Target?

Clothing

Sleepers! Or PJs or Sleep and Plays. Whatever you call them. Zippers are the way to go! Who wants to be buttoning up a bunch of snaps in the middle of the night while you’re half asleep? Not me. Even if they are the cutest sleepers with snaps, don’t do it! Cloud Island, Just One You, and Old Navy have created sleepers that zip from the bottom up! So convenient! They didn’t have these when I had my oldest, so when I was gifted them at my baby shower from the baby, I was so excited! They connect at the top by the baby’s head and zip down to the feet! This is amazing to me. Having a newborn during the winter, means it’s freezing. Now I don’t have to completely uncover my baby to change his diaper. Now he’s not cold! Just amazing. Well done to whoever came up with that idea!

I also don’t recommend buying more than a few newborn outfits. They grow out of them so quick. I have newborn clothes that Orion hasn’t worn at all and never will. He’s such a chunk! He’s been wearing 0-3 months since he was officially a month old. I have plenty of onesies and pants. Socks are a must. Mittens however…..I could do without them. Most sleepers and onesies come with fold-over sleeves. You just flip them over and they completely cover the hands. The mittens are cute, but they aren’t worth the money. I have no problem keeping my baby’s nails short or covered.

I also, don’t base my baby’s clothing size off of his age. They can grow out of them quicker than they age. Even though, my youngest is almost two months old, he will be wearing 3 month clothing soon. His 0-3 months clothing is starting to get a little snug. He’s a chunky baby. Rolls everywhere! I love it, but that means that he has to wear bigger clothes, so they don’t cut off his circulation.

That’s it for this this part! Let me know if you have any questions or would like to know anything else pertaining to this part!

#newborn essentials #newborn #baby stuff #8 week old

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ahoodgirl · 3 years

Text

♡ marry me / surprise ♡ {victor tan (swat)}

> its gonna be a long one, folks! <

> warnings: sex – 18+ only! <

> words: 1,978 <

> listen to: marry me by train <

> author's note: to all my Victor Tan / SWAT fans! you're gonna love this! I love each and every members of swat, but Victor, oohf, i have a *very* soft spot for him, deeeep in my heart. So of course, I had to write something marriage wise, along with their first time and the flight to the winter cabin, etc., etc,. Theres gonna be three parts to this.. I like to change it up with the names in each story/fic I write so in this one, the girls name is Miya Ashleigh Daniels/Tan. Tell me what you think, if i should make this a series or not. So please, enjoy this long read of 'Marry Me / Surprise' fic imagine for Victor Tan. <

> P A R T O N E — the wedding <

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It was the day everyone was looking forward to, the day that both Victor and I were patiently waiting for, and now its finally here... our wedding day.

We decided that, instead of a church wedding, we'd get married in our best friends barn in his back yard then have the reception at a close–by venue.

We got engaged exactly a year and a half ago, knowing we'd want a winter wedding, exactly a week before christmas. We found a little snowy cottage in the mountains that we wanted to stay at / go to for our honeymoon.

My dress came in last month, and it fits me perfectly. Vic had his since last year, knowing he'd have to keep in shape in order for him to still be able to wear it, when everything finally comes into fruition.

We only invited our friends and family, total wedding and reception maxing out 50, we invited 40. Plenty of room to have a good time.

My maid of honor ‐ Deacon's wife Annie - helped me get into my dress while my two other bridesmaids ‐ Chris and Molly ‐ did my hair and makeup. I was okay with Chris not wearing a dress, as she opted for a dark purple and black pantsuit instead.

Once I got dressed and Vic's best man came for me ‐ Deacon himself ‐ I do my best to keep myself together as we walk to the front doors of the barn.

Since my dad nor my mom is here to walk me down the aisle, Deacon took it upon himself to take on that duty, not taking no for an answer. So here we are at the doors waiting for the famous song to be played, and Deac turns to me and says, "your beautiful. Victor's gonna be a crying mess when he sees you." I laugh as I hold back tears. "Don't cry, your gonna mess up your makeup." I chuckle and reply "who needs makeup when you're in love with someone who loves you no matter what you look like, makeup or no makeup. But thank you, Deacon, for being my shoulder to walk me down the aisle. It means, a lot since my dad's not here to do it."

Before he could respond, we hear our signal and fix ourselves. I hang onto Deacons arm with my left hand while my right holds onto my bouquet and the bottom of my dress as the barn doors are opened. I see everyone standing, the only person standing out to me tremendously, my soon–to–be husband, Victor Tan. And just like Deacon said, once he saw me he couldn't stop the flow of tears from his eyes. I did my best to keep my composure so my makeup wouldn't look like a wreck if front of our guests. As Deacon hands me off to Victor and gets back to his spot behind the groom, I hand my bouquet to Annie and step in–front of Vic and grab both his hands as the officiant starts the ceremony.

♡

"I now pronounce you, husband and wife, you may now kiss your bride." Victor smiles and leans in to give me one of the best kisses yet. We turn to our guests and the officiant says, "I pronounce to you, Mr. & Mrs. Victor Tan!" We kiss one more time and walk out of the barn holding hands, smiling.

We get into the rented range rover and drive to a nearby abandoned building and park.

We both agreed to wait to have sex once we're married, but to also not wait once we're somewhere private, either. So we opted for car sex. Passionate, sexy and meaningful.

Once he parks, we hurry to the back seat, put both seats down and strip ourselves naked, making sure not to waste anymore time than we've already lost by driving to our 'abandoned–building–sex' location.

He wastes no time in getting behind me, pushing himself inside and roughly thrusting in and out, his fingers leaving bruises behind from the amount of pressure he's putting on my hips.

As he fucks me harder from behind, I hold onto the pushed–up seat in-front of me and groan out loudly, my mouth open wide giving him the opportunity to grab my face and pull it towards him, kissing my lips as his fingers dig deep into my hips, searching for his high.

"Vic, aagh!" hearing me moan out his name gives him the drive to push forward and hit my gspot rapidly, his orgasm hitting him like a train, his cum spewing inside my vagina.

Once we've finished our spontaneous adventure, we quickly clean ourselves up and drive to our reception.

Victor parks in the 'just–married' parking spot and shuts the engine off. We make sure that we're put together right and get out, then hand–in–hand walk to the doors just in time as our announcer announces us and we walk through the doors holding our hands above our heads.

We walk to our table and find our seats ‐ Mr. & Mrs. ‐ and sit down.

We eat our meal, and dessert ‐ you know I had to smash cake in his face; he did too ‐ before it's time for our first dance.

After everything's done, and the reception is finished, it was time for pictures.

Our photographer snapped many photos ‐ some we loved and some we didn't ‐ and everything was good. You could just *tell* how happy Victor looked. You could tell. That look he gave me, was the same one he gave me while we were fucking in the rental car, just hours before our reception ‐ pure lust ‐ my favorite 'private moment' between us so far.

After pictures, we thank eveyone for coming, then leave in the rental range rover and head to our hotel, where we'll stay the night, then early that next morning ‐ 3:40 am ‐ we'll get up, pack and fly to our honeymoon.

> P A R T T W O — the honeymoon <

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

After Victor unlocks the front door, we finally walk in the cabin we're staying at for our honeymoon, and drag our luggage to our room. We spend a few hours in our room to ourselves, not coming out until it was 3am ‐ we were both hungry so I had to make something ‐ then going back for the rest of the night.

We finally came out of the room at 2, deciding to go outside and adventure, along with a few snowball fights as well.

A snow war, two snow forts and a shit ton of snowballs later, we go inside for some hot chocolate.

Victor takes off all his coats and his boots then goes to the cabinet and grabs two packets of hot chocolate. I take off my coats and my boots as well then sit on the couch in front of the fireplace and wait.

"I can't believe you ambushed me! Your own husband!" I laugh as he hands me my mug of hot chocolate full of marshmallows. "Yeah, thats something you should get used to." he laughs and sits down beside me.

"do you think anyone knew what we did after they announced us?" I laugh so hard, I sneeze chocolate out of my nose. "I don't think they had a clue, but you did fuck me good though, I'll give you that." he smiles. "thank you. I'll except that compliment, and raise you higher on that tonight."

We finish our hot chocolates and go back outside to the snow.

♡

It was two days before Christmas and we had already planned to stay at his moms until after New Years.

We pack that night and get everything ready for when we wake up early tomorrow morning to leave for the airport headed back home.

> P A R T T H R E E — home <

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

After an hour flight we finally land and grab our luggage and get off the plane. We go through baggage then head to security check. We walk outside to find his mom waiting for us. We stuff our bags in her car and she drives off.

An hour after we've gotten to his moms home, we settle in and get everything set and ready for Christmas ‐ and a surprise I've been waiting so long to give/tell him - as we both fall asleep peacefully next to each other.

♡

On Christmas morning, Victor surprised me with breakfast in bed ‐ grits {w. cheese}, waffles, bacon, milk and orange juice ‐ then we go open presents with his mom in the living room.

His mom got me some stuff for our new house, I got her a new pot and pan, she got Victor some underwear and socks ‐ to which he was embarrassed that she knew his size ‐ and he got his mom a photobook full of his childhood and adulthood memories.

Victor grabbed my present from behind the couch and handed it to me. I opened it and was shocked ‐ an ornament with a picture of us at our wedding, saying 'Victor & Miya, our first Christmas 2019.' "aww, Victor. You didn't have to do this," I smile then stand up to give him a hug and kiss. "but my present is better," he looks at me in confusion as I grab the final box under the tree ‐ a small box ‐ and smile, handing the box to Victor.

He looks at me with a weird face, but unwraps the red ribbon and pulls the top off the box, then he looks at me. "w–what?" I nod my head as I take a sip of my hot chocolate. "you're, pregnant?" I set my mug down on the coffee table in front of me and turn to Victor. "I found out last week. I wanted so badly to tell you, but I figured since Christmas was coming up I might as well wait. So I put all three tests in this box and wrapped it up, then made sure it was hidden so you wouldn't grab it first." Vic's mom was so happy, she started crying tears of joy. We all hugged each other then threw away all the trash from the presents.

Victor's mom makes up food while I get all the drinks ready and set them on the table. He helps her plate the food and hands them to me to take to the table.

♡

After we eat and Vic and I help wash dishes, we sit down on the couch and put on a movie.

After the ending credits rolled through, Victor realized I was asleep and carried me to the room, then got in beside me and also fell asleep with him cuddling me.

New Years Eve came around, and we had a party at our house. Everyone from SWAT was invited and we had drinks and plenty of snacks for everyone.

We all kept an eye on the time ‐ 10am became 2pm which then became 5pm ‐ until finally 11:18pm rolled around. Only 42 minutes left until New Years.

11:25, 11:35, 11:45, 11:55, then came 11:58, only two minutes until New Years.

Once it hit 11:59, everyone started counting down from 60 ‐ 50, 40, 30, 20, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, ‐ "5! 4! 3! 2! 1! Happy New Year!" everyone yelled out as Victor's lips found mine and captured them in a kiss, ready for whatever the new year brings us.

#ahoodgirl #david lim #victor tan #vt swat #vt fluff #victor tan swat #marry you #wedding #after‐wedding sex #honeymoon #snow barn #Christmas #new years #surprise #pregnant #01.10.21

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pixelatedrose · 4 years

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Soulbound Part Two

First | Part 2 | Next

Ao3 link

Masterpost

Word Count: 2,955

Pairings: Platonic LAMP, Prinxiety, Logicality, Background Remile

Warnings: uncensored swearing, bullying, mention of drugs and alcohol, threats, Unsympathetic Remus, Unsympathetic Deceit, implied mention of sex (wow this fic went from 1 to like 67 real fast) Please leave a comment and tell me if I missed anything that should be tagged or if you want anything tagged!

Summary:

Roman Prince and Logan Rose are soulmates. They’re platonic soulmates though. They both have the same Soul mark to prove it. But they both have one other soul mark, binding them to one other person. And when they find Patton Miles, it just so happens that they’re both his soulmate. Logan being his Soulbound Soulmate, and Roman being a platonic soulmate. But something feels missing. And it feels filled, shockingly so, when they meet a certain someone a year and a half after they found each other.

IMPORTANT NOTE!! I changed all of their last names cause I didn't like them. So. Yeah. Also sorry this seems a bit late, I got caught up with doing things and school and we had a ton of snow (where I live we never get snow) and so I was a little distracted all week. Sorry about that y'all!! But its here now, so yeah!! Hope you enjoy!!

Chapter 2

Roman woke up with a start, his wrist stinging. He looked over at his clock that read a time much to late- or early- for it to be reasonable. He rubbed his stinging skin and tried to go back to sleep.

This was a regular occurrence. Waking up at two am to a stinging wrist or shoulder, sometimes an ankle or forearm. Once he woke up nearly screaming as his left side felt like it was on fire.

He didn't quite know what it was, but Roman never thought much about it. I mean, people woke up with little pricks sometimes, right? He'd probably slept on it wrong or accidentally hit his bedframe in his sleep.

Roman lay in bed, tossing and turning as he tried to fall back asleep. He looked over to the clock once again and sighed. It was only an hour before his alarm went off.

Not seeing the point in trying to go to sleep anymore, Roman swung his legs over the side of his bed and started getting ready for the day.

After taking a shower and pulling in clothes, Roman's alarm rang out two seconds after he was done styling and drying his previously wet hair. He slapped it off as quick as possible, suddenly not wanting to wake anyone else up.

Roman inched out of his room and into his brother's, flipping on the lights, much to his brother's dismay.

"Turn the goddamn lights off…." His brother muttered through his pillow.

Roman sighed. "Nope! C'mon Remus, it's time for you to rise and shine- or whatever it is that you do when you're awake- and get ready for the first day of school!" He walked over to the broad window and threw open the blinds, letting light filter and flow into the already lot room, the sun beams hitting Roman's twin in the face.

"AaaAAAHH!!" His brother screamed. He sat up in bed and shielded his face. He glared at Roman after adjusting to the light. "I'm going to sell your organs on the internet you pile of horse sh-"

"Love you too, brother! I'm gonna go make breakfast now okay bye!!" Roman zipped downstairs, not wanting to stick around to see whether his brother would act on that threat or not.

Ten minutes later Remus came loudly down the stairs and yelled at his brother. "DID YOU GET OUT ALL THE CEREAL AND THE POPTARTS?!!?"

Roman sighed, looking at the counter that was overflowing with four different cereals and a box of poptarts. "YEAH BRO MAN I GOTCHU!!" He yelled back.

Remus entered the kitchen area with his heavy heeled boots and skipped over to the cereals. He poured a little of each box into a bowl and unwrapped a poptart and crumbled it on top. He went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of not milk but orange juice and poured it into the abomination that was in his bowl.

Roman looked away and tried focusing back on the eggs he had in the pan in front of him. "I cannot believe that you actually eat that, Remus! It's revolting!" Roman bemused.

Remus shoveled a spoonful into his mouth, staring at pointedly. "You," he sputtered through the mouthful of 'Cereal'. "My brother, have no taste." He swallowed and gestured to his bowl. "This is a masterpiece of a meal!!"

Roman made gagging noise and slid his single solitary egg onto a piece of toast. "That's not even a meal! I daresay it would harm someone rather than anything else!"

Remus scoffed and took another bite.

~~•~~

Today was the first day of their sophomore year, 10th grade and they couldn't wait for it to start. Or at least, Roman was excited. Remus had made his opinion adamant; he couldn't care less if the school caught fire.

But nonetheless, it was a day they'd all been awaiting, whether eagerly or with disdain.

Patton had stuffed his backpack full of snacks and colorful pins as gifts for his new classmates and friends.

Roman had excitedly roused his voice in preparation for theater and barber shop choir he was sure to audition for.

Logan had packed up notebooks and pencils and pens, all fitting perfectly in his backpack as he awaited learning, a year ahead of his peers.

Remus had done nothing but think up pranks and plans of destruction of freshman newbies for the start of the year. His phone pinged and he picked it up to look at it.

A boy known around school as Deceit had discretely packed his bag and pockets full of liquors and drugs to sell to anyone who'd buy. He looked at his email and raised an eyebrow. He turned to his messages and shot a text to his partner.

And a person of seemingly infinitesimal importance shrugged on a black and purple jacket and sighed heavily. He didn't look forward to this. What's to say it was going to be any different from last time?

And so, life started as sophomores for each and every one of them.

~~•~~

Virgil Sanders walked up to the front of his new high school. A place to start over… he thought.

He pushed his way through the doors and tried to think positively.

"Well helloooo there my good newbie of a kid!!" A voice rang out. Virgil startled back and bumped into someone behind him. How did someone get behind him so fast??

"Ah, ah! Don't be scared my good pal!" The person behind him said, his voice was a little too reassuring, a little too happy.

"I-I'm sorry...I'll just find my own way around…" he stammered out. He didn't want to try and be cocky and make enemies this early into the school year. And his anxiety was telling him to play it safe.

He didn't even see the two that were harassing him before a voice trilled out, "Oh there you are, babe!!"

Virgil felt an arm wrap around his shoulders. "Hon-ey you've got to stop running off like that! Gurl, you're gonna lose that cute purple head of yours in the crowd if your not careful!" Virgil looked up to see a boy wearing aviator shades and a leather jacket.

"Uhm--?"

Virgil started before the sunglasses'd guy turned and whispered in his ear, "Just play along, babe…"

"Right…" Virgil turned and kissed the strange man's cheek. "Sorry babe, won't happen again." He cuddled up to the man and wrapped his arms around his waist. If he was gonna play the part, might as well make it convincing.

"That's right honey bae! Now let's get you to class!" And the two walked away hand in hand.

As they rounded the corner, the man parted from Virgil and turned on him. "Sorry bout that honey, but gurl you were in real danger there!" He held out a hand. "The name's Remy b-t-dubs."

Virgil shook it. "Virgil. Thanks. And sorry for the kiss."

Remy laughed and waved his hand at Virgil. "Oh pah-lease babe! Trust me I probably enjoyed that more than you think I did!" He winked and laughed again at Virgil's flushed face. "Now, stay outa trouble, ya hear? Cause auntie Remy ain't always gonna be around to save that cute face of yours hun. But here's my number in case you need anything!" Remy took out what looked like a business card and handed it to Virgil.

Auntie Remy. Gossip wheel, late night counseling, party boy.

At the bottom a number was printed. "Hey what-" but Remy was already gone.

What just happened?

~~•~~

Remus was pissed. He had received the text from Deceit that morning that there was fresh meat and he was so ready to spill crickets in that loser's bag! And then that stupid 12th grade dumbass senior Remy had to show up and "save the day."

His eye caught a little freshman boy with broken glasses. He carried his books in his arms and had a smattering of freckles to accompany his bright red hair.

Perfect! Remus thought maliciously. And crept over to sink his teeth into his next victim.

"Hey there freckle face!" He called cheerily.

The boy seemed startled and pointed at himself as if to confirm.

Remus sighed. Wow this kid is dull… "Yeah you, scarecrow reject! Now Imma make this quick since I already lost one lunch income," he started, slinking around the kid. "Hand over the money you mommy gave you for food today else I'll make sure that it won't stay down."

The redhead seemed flustered. "Wh-what? B-but, I need that money!" He subconsciously reached for his pocket.

Bingo. Remus knew his type. Fear would get him what he wanted. He grabbed the kid by the front of his shirt, making the books tumble out of his hands. "Listen here, nerd! You gimme that money or else you're gonna be using it to mend all the bones I'll be snapping in you hand, here!" Remus held up one of the kid's spindly hands as an example, wagging it loosely in his face. His maniacal smile grew as he heard the kid whimper in fear.

Remus put pressure on one of the kid's fingers as the freckled boy didn't move. "Tic-Toc, brainless bastard!" He snickered sadistically.

"Fine!!" The kid yelped in fear and shoved the money at the bully. "Just leave me alone!"

Remus pushed the kid to the ground and shoved the money in his pocket. "As you wish, orange peel!" He stepped on the kid's discarded books and walked over to where Deceit watched.

"40-60, my snake bitch." Remus said, handing his partner 14 dollars of the 35.

Deceit counted the money and nodded. "I'm disappointed the newbie slipped by us…" he looked off at where the purple haired boy had been a few minutes prior. "But I think he'll be back…" His amber eyes glowed a near sickly yellow. "And this time we're playing the long game."

~~•~~

Remus had run off ahead of him so Roman entered the school's doors alone. He had wandered only a few steps inside before a blur of blue and gold barreled into him.

"GOOD TO SEE YOU, KIDDO!!" Patton shouted, squeezing Roman in an impossibly tight hug.

"Gah!! Good to see you too, Patton!! But," Roman gasped out, smiling. "I can't breathe, buddy."

"Oh my GOLLY gee!!" Patton shouted, releasing Roman into open air. "I'm sorry bout that, kiddo!"

"Really Patton, you should know your own strength by now. It'd be quite a shame if I lost my best friend before we graduated." A deep voice called, his voice laced with amusement.

Roman softly pushed Patton aside. "Logan!!" He shouted and subsequently barreled into the tall boy, retracting after a right squeeze to just a shoulder hug. "Buddy, it's good to see you!" He laughed.

Patton made a noise and the two boys turned to look at the shorter one. "And it's not good to see me?! I'm offended! Roman! I am your father-"

"Not my father-"

"And you will love me right now!"

Roman laughed and drew Patton and Logan both into a tight hug. "Man I missed you guys!!"

Logan gently wrapped his arms around the other two and smiled. "As did we, my friend. As did We."

~~•~~

It was like any other start of school day. Read syllabus, play a get to know you game, repeat.

It was really fairly normal for Roman.

Until his third period.

Roman knew nearly everyone in his grade, he had been the popular kid back in middle school and that had mostly transferred when he got into high school. So when roll call was being taken, it piqued his interest when a foreign voice answered a foreign name.

"Roman Prince?"

"You called?" Roman asked charmingly. The teacher looked at him tiredly. Roman cleared his throat. "Here!" He called a little more calmly.

"Flora Riley?"

"Here!"

"Uh...Virgil Sanders?"

Virgil Sanders? Roman thought. Maybe I just don't remember him and I'll recognize his vio-

"Here." A quiet but firm voice answered and Roman checked behind him to see the source of the unrecognized voice.

A boy sat in the back of the class with his feet pressed up against the table, curling himself mostly into a ball in his chair. But even so, Roman could see purple hair peeking out from under his patchwork hoodie and stylish, iconic reverse eyeshadow applied to his face. His ripped black jeans and scuffed combat boots made it obvious that there was a new emo in school.

Cute… Roman thought subconsciously. I mean, he was pretty cute.

"Alright class. We're gonna play a get to know you game. Now come up and draw sticks." The teacher held out a tin full of stocks with names on them and shook it slightly, letting the wood jingle against the run. "You'll be drawing the person you'll be sitting with for the rest of the semester. You may not trade with anyone, and yeah, that sucks but so does school." The class snickered as people drew sticks. There were only enough for half the class, and the other half drew the sticks.

Roman was not part of the group that drew sticks. So he sat idly at his seat and began to daydream about how the year would go.

"You're Roman Prince?" A voice asked.

Roman snapped out of his dreaming and looked up to see Virgil the Emo standing over him. Roman smirked and out a hand to his chest. "The one and only! Come to admire how pretty I am?" He asked charmingly.

The emo snorted. "As in pretty dull? Maybe. It is a wonder of the world after all."

Roman scoffed and pressed his other hand over his heart, as if it hurt. "I'm offended! You wound me!!" Roman held out his hand smiling. "I assume we're seating partners then! How do you do, my emo nightmare?"

Virgil didn't take his hand, rather he just walked to the back of the class. "Come now, Prince of the Preppy, we don't know each other and honestly I don't think we ever will. We're not sitting up front."

Roman frowned at the lack of jest in the emo's voice. He thought he and the purple haired boy were flirting wonderfully!

Since Roman didn't seem to have any other Soul Marks, he didn't have a Soulbound Soulmate. So he freely flirted with every moving thing that breathed.

But Roman wasn't going to give up that easily. "Hey there, plum hair! Tell me, what's it like looking so fruity?"

Virgil snorted, and hid his face in his sleeve.

Nooo!! Roman thought. I wanna see your cute face!!

"I dunno...what's it like being so fruity?"

Roman laughed and tried again to reach out his hand. "An absolute delight!"

When Virgil did nothing but sit down at the table in the farthest back corner of the classroom, Roman deflated a little. This Virgil was cute, albeit a little annoying. I mean all he would do is snark at him! Maybe Roman had misread the situation.

"Fine alright," Roman have up. "I'll stop talking, panic-at-the-everywhere."

"Sweet." Though it was the answer he should have been expecting, Roman prickled.

"So you don't want to talk to me at all?" Roman asked flatly, slightly annoyed.

"No, not really." Virgil said, pulling out his phone.

"Really? Like really Really?"

"Yep." He popped the P and pointedly turned away from Roman.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Nope." He again popped the P.

"You know we're going to have to sit next to each other all semester, right?"

"Yeah…? And…?"

"Well you have to talk to me eventually!"

"And I'll stay here dreading when that dreaded eventually will come."

"You cannot be serious! Come on I'm fabulous!"

"Fabulously plastic, dumb, and shallow, if that's what you mean."

"Shallow?!"

"Uh, yeah?"

"How dare-!"

"Alright class!!" The teacher clapped their hands, stopping the impending fight that was about to break out. They started passing out papers to each of the students. "Now choose one or two, or however many you want and ask them to your partner. And yeah it sounds boring and maybe it might be if you're boring. So don't be a boring teenager."

Roman and Virgil got the paper and looked it over. It at least Roman did. He finally picked one and asked it, knowing that trying to wait for the Emo to pay attention would be futile.

"If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be?" Roman sighed out.

The answer that came was almost immediate and nearly shook Roman to his core. "Soulmarks." Virgil seemed to have spat the word out. "I'd get rid of all Soulmarks."

Roman was about to ask further about it but he heard a loud clang behind him.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU SLEPT WITH SISSI LETANTA?! YOU SHIT!! YOU KNOW THAT'S MY GIRLFRIEND'S LITTLE SISTER, YOU BASTARD!!!" The girl behind Roman was in an absolute rage. The boy she was talki- screaming at was pale and seemed like he'd wet set himself out of fear at any moment.

"Whoa…yo Virgil check this ou-" Roman had once again tried to communicate with the Emo boy, but turned to see him filming the whole thing. "What are you doing…?"

"Blackmail."

"What?!"

"You never know when it may come in handy."

"You're the creepiest emo kid I've ever met."

"And how many emos have you met exactly?"

"Three! There was this one girl in my middle school that-"

"Yeah okay you can shut up now."

"Well thanks."

The fight had only been broken up by the bell ringing. And Virgil left without saying a word to Roman.

What a weird, creepy, cute kid… Roman thought. I think I wanna be his friend.

Again, I’m sorry this is later than I wanted it to be, and It’s not as good as I’d like it to be, but I promise I have things planned for this! Big things! Angsty things! Fluff!! I swear it’s going to be better than it is right now, I’m just a little caught up in life at the moment. Hope you liked it! And do feel free to leave a comment if you want me to tag you!! Sweet dreams!!

Taglist

@anxietea-and-insanitea

@ghostboi-bambi

@scrunchiescrunchie

#ts sides #logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts Patton #ts virgil #ts logan #ts roman #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #ts sides fic #soulmate au #highschool au #thomas sanders #Soulbound Au

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