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anne-i-write · 3 years

Text

moriarty the patriot headcannons pt. 1

| requested by anon: Can you write about all male characters in moriarty has a same look of their children and hpw many children they want? |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader; sebastian x reader; fred x reader

word count: 2397

pt. 2: 221b boys

a/n: I DONT KNOW WHY I DIDNT WRITE THIS EARLIER IM SO SORRY THIS REQUEST HAS LITERALLY BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR SO LONG I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS

william: 487 words

with his whole plan to clean the world of the filthy nobles, william never really stopped to think about having children

well, until he met you

you both were in town one day and he saw you fondly watching a child speak with her mother

“i think two children would be nice”

“i didn’t even ask”

“i know, but the look you gave that mother was telling enough”

n e ways he is a simp and he did eventually give you what you wanted

fast forward a few years, you have two children: a boy and a girl

and they look exactly like their father

like,, it lowkey pains you how much they physically take after their father

you wanted to be like “oh they have your personality, but they look just like me!”

granted, your son took after you in an emotional sense but your daughter was a daddy’s girl through and through

like she looks like him, she acts like him, speaks like him, she even EATS like him

ok but the men w your children

fred is a freaking sweetheart ok

like he’ll watch over the kids when no one has the time and they love him too so they’ll help out in the garden which you are SO thankful for

tbh they only like uncle albert bc he brings them lil trinkets from when he gets back from london LMAO

louis doesn’t show it, but he absolutely adores your children and makes extra snacks for them at tea time

you caught onto this at one point bc for some REASON your kids would not stop bouncing off of the walls before bed and they told you uncle louis gave them chocolate

and sebastian loves messing w your kids bc,,, sebastian

but he accidentally made your son cry ONCE and he was at the mercy of every adult in the moriarty estate including the boy’s younger sister

needless to say, he watched his actions and words around your children after that

now, william

i’m just gonna say this straight out: most of the men never really thought about having kids (save john and albert)

but when you finally had kids, william had a different outlook on life

like fr,, this man works overtime now trying to get rid of the filth that is called nobles

he doesn’t want his kids to be raised in a world where just because you have more money than another means you get to look down on them

you still instill in them those good morals ofc

he also tries to be very present in their lives since he and his brother were raised as orphans

when he was younger, he didn’t mind it all much

but now that he had this small family and a brighter future, he did everything in his power to make sure they’re happy and grow up in a cleaner and kinder world

louis: 320 words

it took you a week to get him to at LEAST humor you

“if you could, how many kids do you want?”

“none”

like, this guy is so dedicated to his brother and his cause it is a WONDER you somehow wormed your way into his heart

but you did and honestly, the brothers are actually very happy that you’re with them

william especially

louis rarely emotes but when you came into their lives, you got louis pissed at one point and everyone was like,,,, wtf?? he has emotions???

anyways, his answer is one kid LMAO

and when you get that one kid, he looks just like louis

yall already KNOW that he’s ready to die for that child as soon as louis holds him in his arms

the only kid sebastian wouldnt even try to mess with

he can deal with william’s albert’s or fred’s kids but louis lowkey intimidates him so he’s as nice as he can be

that being said, louis teaches his kid how to properly handle stuff around the house

you want to cry bc ur son is just so??? the little kid just loves helping out no matter how small the task and he’s just so cute it hurts

even sebastian’s kinda like,, “aight he’s the only kid i will tolerate”

louis grew up with only his brothers so he also wants to give his son a shot at a normal family

is actually aware at how he thinks he’s indispensable for william’s cause and he doesn’t want his son to end up like him

he also teaches his son some badass fighting moves

oh and louis smiles a lot more too

cried bc his son saw the scar he got on his cheek, rubbed some dirt on his lil face and said “i have daddy’s cool scar now”

all in all his son is the best thing to happen to all of you

albert: 505 words

same as louis in the fact that it takes him a week to answer

“you know you haven’t even answered my question”

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

“how many kids do you want?”

genuinely takes time to ponder that question

he hadn’t thought of that since his family adopted william and louis

but with you?

“i think two darling girls who take after their mother is enough for me”

pls he’d be so sweet 🥺🥺🥺

you two end up having a girl and a boy, who look just like their father

and tbh, you’re not even mad

you love them so much so when albert comes back north, the three of you are ecstatic

the happiness was short lived for albert tho

he found his son spending time with william and there’s nothing bad right????

“where’s your sister?”

“she’s with mr. moran”

his heart DROPPED

out of all the people in the manor

HIM

he sees the two running around the garden

it all happened as soon as albert’s daughter went up to sebastian and said “you’re very pretty! you’re my knight now!”

he decided to “adopt” the little girl and now he’s lowkey whipped

you found albert staring at sebastian playing with his daughter and updated him about everything going on

“but him??”

“he’s just a big softie for her let it go”

isn’t really surprised when he finds out they can fight a little

actually glad that they can hold their own, God forbid anything happens to them

otherwise mi6 has to deal w family matters lmao

“albert, she only tripped”

“you shouldve seen the fear in her eyes as she fell”

“IT WAS A STRAY COBBLESTONE”

would raise hell if anyone even THOUGHT ill of his kids

william and louis are the doting uncles

william more so than louis bc your kids have never seen louis smile

now they’re on a mission to make uncle louis smile

louis was on child duty one day and they managed to slip away

omyGOD he was stressed but also,, extremely worried

so when he found them he had the most genuine smile on his face

your daughter was like (・∀・)

she loves uncle louis

ofc your son adores his dad like,,, who else wouldn't feel awesome at the age of 10 if you found out your dad was a high ranking general

feels superior to sebastian bc of his dad

lmao this 4’5 kid thinks he can rule sebastian for some odd reason

the house is always dirty bc him and sebastian always prank each other

your daughter is trying to catch a butterfly but she can’t so fred helps

instantly loves fred

“is that what heartbreak is”

“i guess that’s what happens when you try to get close to my kids colonel”

albert is kind of afraid of turning into his dad but he has you and everyone else to remind him that: no you are not your father, you are so much better than him

loves your family with his entire being

sebastian: 844 words

“i see you looking at those kids and the answer is none”

lmao you’ll get so pouty around him bc you want kids dammit

that and he spoils you to no end so that's why you’re pouty lol

“fine we’ll only do one kid and bc one kid is all i can tolerate”

bruh

this man gives you three in four years LMFAO

two boys a year apart and a girl in the fourth year

you wanted to smack sebastian

when the two boys grew up, it was obvious they were already taking after their father in the physical sense

it was terrifying

they genuinely look like mini sebastians and you know everyone in the manor is afraid that you two birthed satan

and the satan was your eldest one

he’s just a feral sebastian moran in a tiny body

your second son, god bless him, looked just like his father but with fred’s temperament

and see, you were fine with your sons looking like their father

it was FINE right

you prayed to God that your third child would have at least some physical resemblance to you

your daughter was birthed, she grew up

and you cried

“HOW DO THEY ALL LOOK LIKE YOU”

“i’ve got some strong genetics, baby”

you sulk for a lil bit

but you accept it anyway because you love your goddamn kids

thankfully, your second and youngest child are both soft spoken and it's only your husband and his tiny clone bringing hell to earth

smacking sebastian bc all of your children suddenly started swearing up a storm at each other

“WHYD YOU HIT ME”

“YOURE THE ONLY ONE WHO SWEARS AROUND THE KIDS”

finally sitting down and trying to convince them to stop swearing

“father does it!”

“your father’s stupid”

speaking of your daughter

she’s his little princess and no he will not take criticism

spoils her more than he spoils you

did she glance at a toy at a passing store?

he buys more toys than he should from said store

you have to physically hide some of his money bc there is only so much you can buy

and her older brothers are so caring you want to sob

if a person accidentally shoved her over bc she was tiny and they couldn’t see her

oh boy

get ready to restrain them like chihuahuas

“little sister will be protected at all costs”

since his second son is so different from him, sebastian actively makes time to talk about what the little boy is doing and what he’s getting from it

doesn’t want to be pushy and suffocating like his dad was so when his younger kid does want to be left alone to his devices, sebastian does so

but honestly loves that your second son is so literate

lddhsajdsfk what yall dont know is that they’re all in cahoots

kinda funny to see them all together bc they all take after their father so much it's like having three tiny sebastians go around town

anyways,,,, yall know the promised neverland right

you got ray, norman, and emma

granted one of them wasn’t as smart as ray but he definitely knew what stealth was

regular sibling rivalry was still a thing but if they could smell the pudding from the kitchen, they know they have to work together

sebastian caught his eldest smuggling biscuits into a small bag

he had half a mind to scold him

but then he ended up giving tips TO ALL HIS CHILDREN on how not to get caught next time—

bc of this they beg him to tell them some stories from afghanistan bc “there’s no way a man as old as dad knows this many stealth tactics”

louis is so fed up lmao

albert is in london most of the time so he just thanks the lord that he doesn’t have to deal w the propaganda that sebastian feeds his children about how “mr. albert is a bad man”

william is fine w it as long as they don’t trash the library

your younger ones love the library so they would cry at the thought of one of the books losing any of the pages

your second and your daughter are definitely the moriartys’ favorites

they don’t show it, but you just KNOW

your eldest could care less about that though

as long as you and his father still love him

and of course you both do

and fred is definitely your youngers favorite

they like to hang out in the garden

ok they still fight all the time though

just because your second child is soft spoken doesn't mean he’s afraid to throw hands

their sister likes to join in for the hell of it

but if someone wrongs any of the children

just because the younger ones are the moriartys’ favorite, doesn’t mean that they’re not gonna hunt someone down if they even think about trying to hurt the eldest too

yeah,,, good luck to them and their families

they got the entire moriarty estate coming after them

fred: 241 words

cmon yall are like,, young

but you did ask him bc you were curious if he thought about it

he wants one

and when yall do have the kid, you guys actually do have one kid and its a girl

since you both are young, you can immediately see a resemblance between her and her father

everyone who meets her would die for her

ABSOLUTE CUTIE

especially when she walks around the garden w her hand in her dad’s and he’s showing her all the plants and telling her how to take care of them

needless to say she grows up loving plants

any type of plant

the boys love giving her flowers or anything from bc she has the biggest smile every single time

no matter if it’s just a single rose or a rock

this was found out one time when sebastian gave her a rock bc everyone else had given her like,, two roses each

was afraid she was gonna cry

“thank you so much mr. moran! i will treasure this until i get old!”

she was like 4 at the time

and had the widest smile you’ve ever seen on her

guys u don’t understand she smiles a lot but this was like,, genuine happiness

but everyone was just,, i will destroy the world and myself if anything happens to her

fr it’s just sunshines and rainbows every single time she’s around

everyone just loves her ok

moriarty the patriot general taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader #louis moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #albert moriarty #albert james moriarty x reader #albert moriarty x reader #sebastian moran #sebastian moran x reader #fred porlock

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sxftkxssxs · 3 years

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Hi, I hope you are having a nice day.

Can I request The Arcana main 6 comforting a S/O that has social anxiety?

I completely understand if you don't want to because it's a complicated matter or you simply don't want to. So don't even worry about it ♡.

thanks for requesting! :)

I'll try to write this as best I can, If i get anything wrong please tell me and I'll fix it as soon as possible !! (I got a little stuck on some of the scenarios so I might come back and fix them later on but i hope you like them anyways <3)

M6 With and s/o that has social anxiety

Asra

he understands,

they might not experience it himself but they try to listen to anything you say about it

you end up coming up with a tiny solution, more of a distraction

if you have to do something in public and your social anxiety’s being a pain, He’ll let you mess with their hands, or Faust will make you hold her.

He knows that there’s no way to fully “cure” your social anxiety so they’ll try to help in any way possible.

They try not to let you suffer it alone, he’s always there for you.

At least the shop isn’t the most famous place in town?

You start to feel the pit in your stomach, the nervousness. Before you can even try to overthink anything, Faust is slithering across your hands. “Friend! Calm?” You let a small smile slip. “It’s helping, Thank you Faust.” You drag a finger down her scales and she lets a shiver run through her. Asra is watching, smiling in awe at his familiar and favorite person. Yeah, he definitely got lucky.

Julian

you don't even have to tell him fully

his medical school background included mental illnesses,

while he knows you probably have your own ways of helping yourself, he wants to be able to help as well.

even if helping means just sitting in silence or cuddling at the end of the day

please tell him if he's attracting too much attention to the both of you

it's his natural environment to be in the spotlight, but he'll keep you out of it if you'd prefer

(let's be honest you obviously prefer it that way)

You groaned as you came home. Today sucked. You had to put yourself way out of your comfort zone, which resulted in that awful feeling in your chest and stomach. You had been nervous the entire day. Julian looked up from his stack of papers as you closed the door. He gave a sympathetic look, and opened his arms for a hug. "Let's go get ready for bed my dear." When you finally hit the bed, Julian basically turns you into a burrito. But it’s comforting, and he knows it. let’s hope you don’t mind being stuck with him bc ur kinda stuck in those blankets.

Nadia

She apologizes in advance

unfortunately for the both of you, being the countess and her lover puts you both in the spotlight.

she tries to keep you out of situations if she can but sometimes she either needs you or the situation requires both of your attention

when she does need you to address and issue with her she'll hold your hand, and chandra will be picking at your hair from time to time

please ignore the courtiers, all of them are kind of a pain besides volta

Nadia will give you ways to escape if she can tho <3

You tried to ignore the nausea that hit you as the courtiers all turned their eyes toward you. It was bad enough they were foul in court, but it felt like they were all laughing at you. Nadia placed a hand on your waist for support. “Ah, My apologies. It seems that there’s something we need to tend to. Excuse us,” There wasn’t really anything to tend to. Maybe a relaxing bath but who are you to complain?

Muriel

social anxiety bffs

no fr you both just cling to each other in social gatherings, Asra thinks it’s absolutely adorable

Muriel does know how bad it can be, so he helps in ways he thinks might work for you

Maybe it’s convincing Inanna into making your lap her chair for the day, or letting you hide behind him if you need to.

he’s so sweet about it, but truth be told you both try to avoid the big social settings

If you can’t avoid it you’re either together or complain afterwards

You planted yourself on the bed with a grunt. You’d had to go out and you got separated from muriel. That made today hell for the both of you, especially you. You’d been in the palace at a certain point, having to deal with some problems with Nadia. The palace is the exact opposite of where you want to be. A creak of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts. Muriel walked through the door, walking over to join you on the bed (as best as he could). Inanna laid herself beside the two of you. Even she felt exhausted. You snuggled your way in Muriels arms, finding a way to let Inanna in on the cuddle pile. “I’m never doing that again” “..me neither..”

Portia

oh you poor thing </3

she’s very adventurous, which can sometimes mean trouble, or even confrontation

if she sees that there’s confrontation coming she absolutely hides you somewhere and takes the blame lmao

does not let your social anxiety change her view of you at all, she still bugs you just as much to go out on adventures

pepi is your designated anxiety reliever

she’ll purr and lay in your lap to give you the perfect excuse to not move or go somewhere

Portia giggled at you, looking at the little ball of fluff on your lap. Pepi turned to be on her back. "Look at you two!" She placed a kiss on your cheek, giving pepi a little belly rub. "Pepi's been helping you unwind huh? guess I taught her well!" You let out a little giggle, pulling Portia into the chair beside you. You both spend the rest of your evening babying your favorite kitty and relaxing to the best of your abilities.

Lucio

I apologize for him

he's always gonna be attracting attention and i don't think you'd ever want to be in public with him

but he really does try to keep himself quiet for you!

since he's no good at that he tries to give you times to be alone with him and not bring spotlight to the both of you,

you really try to be near him but it doesn't really work out

the dogs will bark at him if he puts you in an uncomfortable situation, you can bet your life on it

Lucio knew parties weren’t your thing. That’s why you stayed up in his wing, away from where everyone was drinking and cheering. As much as he loves a party, he knows you’re more important. With Mercedes pulling on his suit he’s practically running through the halls to not fall over. She only lets go when you’re all in the same room. Melchior gives his sister a proud huff as you both decide it’s (absolutely) time for the party to end if Lucio wants you to survive in this castle. At least when everyone leaves you and the puppies get to give Lucio a piece of your minds :)

#asra and faust #asra the magician #asrathearcana #countess nadia #headcannons #imagine #julian devorak #julian x mc #nadia satrivana #request.✉️#the arcana julian #the arcana nadia #the arcana visual novel #the arcana main 6 #the arcana m6 #m6 #the arcana headcanons #the arcana imagines #the arcana game

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rintarous · 4 years

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s-some hcs for miya twins sister (yn miya gang rise up✊🏻) dating suna👉🏻👈🏻 p-perhaps🥺

wow okay thank u for this now my brain will finally be drippin with big brain juice okay so here i go bois

u can’t tell if suna has a death wish or suna definitely has a death wish

like the twins are literally so protective of you

no opposite sex is allowed within .5 radius with u unless one of them is there

and to think suna had the balls to ask you out

so surprise surprise

y’all be dating in secret

tbh that just made the entire relationship with suna more exciting

so anywho

the twins start to notice how you always want to tag along to their practices n shit

when you used to hate waiting for them but now you literally ask them if they have practice

and at first they were touched and was all like: “awww our wittle sister wants to watch us play <333″

but in ur head ur just like: “bruh u fuckin wish. i’m just there to sit and look pretty while looking at my pretty bf u two dk abt <333″

so then they start noticing suna literally staring at u or sumn shit suna doesnt do on the daily

so they obviously get sus of suna

not u cs they love u and they think their sister is a pure angel

so they sit back and observe suna’s actions whenever you’re around vs when you’re not around

osamu: look at him... he looks so in to the game and he looks at y/n’s direction.. i don’t fuckin like it one bit

atsumu, rolling his sleeve: aight bro u know what it is

they approach their middle blocker bestie with the most intimidating face they could muster

“can i help you..?” suna eyes the twins cautiously

“what’s going on with you and our sister?” atsumu gets straight into the mf point

on the inside suna was in shambles

not that he’d admit it, but he’s lowkey scared of the twins when it comes to you

cs he obviously heard stories abt them u know... scaring the kids who want to ask you out away and shit

suna (in the tiniest voice): who?

but then their little act of being two intimidating big bros got cut off cs u walked towards them

“hi are we having a lil party here?” you asked as you joined their lil group

you and suna exchanged a small glance before messing around with your brothers + suna respectively

osamu gives suna a look that basically reads: “this isn’t over”

fast forward a couple of days later

the twins surprisingly had plans and left u alone in the house

so u know what that means ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

you invite suna over!!!

the first and probably the only date u two could ever have

(at the moment at least)

suna was a bit sus and wary over the whole thing like,, how and when tf do the twins have plans

but he still came over anyway

so y’all were in ur room n shit

watching netflix and all that funky shit

no netflix n chill up in here bois ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

just kidding there is netflix and chill

so y’all were kissing up in this bitch right

kiss kiss muah muah

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

then suddenly the front door slams open and cue the twins fighting over stupid shit

suna is once again.. in shambles

LIKE WHERE TF IS HE GONNA GO

THIS 6′1 BITCHASS CAN’T HIDE ANYWHERE WITHOUT THE TWINS SNIFFING HIM OUT

im dead

so anyway

“oi y/n we got you something to eat come down here!” osamu would yell

“coming!” you yell back as you tried to make urself as presentable as possible with suna in the bg just all panicky

then suna is like “thanks for the memories bae” like he was abt to die

oh yeah he is abt to die

then atsumu just CASUALLY barges in your room like it was nothing

“why are you taking so long- WHAT THE FUCK” atsumu just loses it

osamu comes running in cs he thinks his baby sister got murdered since atsumu just screamed in bloody murder but nah

“wha wha wha wha wah what-” - the twins

think of that lipstick in my valentino white bag when they say what

and u were on the brink of crying cs u think the twins dont want suna for u and they abt to force u to break up with him

and suna being the deadpan person himself just sighs and says: yeah im dating ur sister. so be it

the twins were like: :O like they couldnt say anything

when tbt to the time at the gym where they were ready to cuss him out

so they kinda stare at each other for a bit

u know,, twin telfatty n shit

and they suddenly nod their heads and say: “okay. we approve”

a fuckin miracle happend in ur room !! can u believe it ???

but they did sit suna down and basically presented a powerpoint presentation on the things they would do if suna ever thinks about hurting you in some shape way or form

“even if we’re bros from another hoe, our sister is literally no exception. we would burn the world for her so you better set your ass straight you slow starter bitchass lying ass i fucking hate you-” atsumu, frantically wiping his tears realizing his little sister is all grown up

osamu, trying to not cry listening to his brother: yeah suna... we fucking hate you

but fr deadass they have a whole list of possibilities on the things they’d do to suna (or anyone in general) who dare and hurt their lil sister: u

and u were just watching them like: 😬

you love ur bros,, u rlly do

overall,,,, its such a chaotic fun time

like ur a miya, ur life is already fun and chaotic with the twins around as your brothers

and the fact u’re dating suna?? their bestie?? even made it more fun

the end <3

#requests ✍🏻#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu x reader #suna imagines #suna scenarios #suna headcannons #suna x reader #suna rintarou imagines #suna rintarou scenarios #suna rintarou headcannons #suna rintarou x reader

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capaimagines · 3 years

Text

choi beomgyu - that’s my girl

Pairing: brother!Choi Beomgyu x Reader | Genre: angst & fluff | Warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of nude photos | WC: 1.1k

Request: You're angst is so good!! Can I request a fic where you are dating this guy and you caught him cheating on you with your best friend and you call your brother Beomgyu who quickly rushes to you because he knows how overwhelmed you get quickly and maybe even having an anxiety attack. Thank you!

part two

You heard the sound of your boyfriend's phone go off. It has been going off a lot more lately. Usually, you wouldn’t care as he has friends too, you know? Although, he had been very distant the past month with you. If it would ring, he either wouldn’t answer it if you were by his side or he would turn it so you couldn’t see the name on the screen. He was also cancelling on dates and coming home at ridiculous hours of the night.

You had caught him a few times smiling at the phone screen and had once heard him having a hushed conversation thinking you weren’t around. Your best friend had also been acting a little odd too. She had been blowing off your plans or asking to reschedule, responding to your messages less and less.

You sighed, listening for the shower, It was still running. You had never been one to snoop as you’ve always trusted him and you didn’t want to break that trust but your gut was telling you that something else was going on. You quietly walked over and picked his phone up, unlocking it and going to his messages.

Your mouth fell open and you felt tears well up in your eyes at what you saw. Your best friend had texted him some photos. Not just any photos, but photos of her naked. You scrolled through the conversation and for the past month there were multiple messages sent between the two. Flirting, some sexting and more nude photos from both him and her.

You didn’t hear the shower shut off or the bathroom door open, hence how you didn’t hear him behind you, “What’re you doing?” You heard your boyfriend and turned around, his phone still in your hand. He saw it and immediately was angry, “What are you doing with my phone? Seriously, Y/N?” He ripped it out of your hand and you just glared at him.

You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crying, at least not while he was here, “Get out,” You said and he only rolled his eyes, throwing some clothes on.

“Don’t be dramatic Y/N. We were just having fun,” You scoffed, throwing your head back in a dead laughter.

“Get out and go have fun somewhere else. I don’t want to see you again. GET OUT!” You screamed, losing your calmness and started pushing him towards the front door.

“Y/N, stop! Come on, It’s nothing! I love you and only you. I was just having some fun,” You couldn’t listen to him anymore and you pushed him out, slamming the door. He didn’t even try to get back in. He was probably going to have some more fun now that he wasn’t tied down. In your blind anger, you saw red. You wanted every trace of him gone.

You grabbed a garbage bag as you started to throw all of his clothes and belongings into it. All the pictures of you two made it in one of the bags too. The tears were falling at this point. You finally collapsed, letting the hurt sink in and you called the one person you needed right now. You didn’t care if he was busy, you needed him.

“My sister!,” Beomgyu chuckled, “To what- Y/N, are you crying?” Beomgyu’s worried voice came over the speaker.

“G-Gyu,” You stuttered out, finally letting the sobs take over your body.

“I’m coming, Y/N. I’ll be right there,” He hung up and 20 minutes later you heard the keypad beeping to your door. Beomgyu flew in, brown eyes searching wildly for you. He saw you sitting on the couch, knees pulled against your chest with tears still streaming down your face.

“Oh, baby,” He cooed, kneeling in front of you and placing his chin on your knees. You looked up and threw yourself on to him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and sobbing again.

“H-he ch-cheated on me, Gyu. W-with my best fr-friend,” You managed to choke out as more sobs took over. He felt the anger bubble up in him, but he could fight your boyfriend later. Right now, he needed to calm you down.

“Shh, shh,” He murmured, running his hand on your back and rocking you back and forth.

“Beomgyu, it looks like she already packed all his stuff,” You turned and groaned, crying out again as you saw Soobin and Yeonjun had accompanied him.

“S-sorry, Y/N,” He mumbled meekly, “We were at a schedule when you called and I didn’t want to drop them off and come back.”

You hid yourself further in his neck and he tightened his grip, “I’ll fight him, where is he?” Yeonjun said, starting to stomp through the apartment.

“Hyung,” Soobin warned, grabbing his shoulder. You couldn’t help but let out a weak chuckle.

“You really think I would let him stay?” You scoffed to which Beomgyu smiled widely, patting the top of your head.

“That’s my girl,” You all laughed.

Soobin and Yeonjun happily brought the garbage bags you had filled to the street. Soobin had taken it upon himself to call and get the passcode for your apartment changed, “If he tries to come back he can’t get in,” He winked at you and you felt grateful. You sat up, wiping your face and looked horrified.

“W-what’s wrong?” Beomgyu said, starting to panic again.

You felt your eyes burn with more tears before you threw yourself back in another fit of sobs, “Y-you all ca-came all the way here and I don’t e-even ha-have any food prepared!” Beomgyu couldn’t help but laugh, pulling you back on his lap.

“It’s fine, Y/N. We’re gonna have the breakup special today anyway,” You peeked up at him, wiping your nose on his shirt just because.

He grimaced, “That’s disgusting!” He pushed you off him, getting up to search for tissues as you pouted.

“I’m sad! I can do what I want!” Yeonjun smirked and Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“Glad to see your brattiness wasn’t taken,” You let a small smile grace your face as you sat back on the couch.

“Bad food and chocolate ice cream?” Beomgyu said, sitting down next to you with his phone pulled out to order takeout. You nodded.

“How To Get Away With Murder?” Soobin said, sitting down and grabbing the remote. You nodded, smiling at how well they all knew you.

“Pay attention because tomorrow is when we kill,” Yeonjun said, sitting down and you let out a laugh.

Beomgyu may be your blood related brother, but now you have 4 others to call brothers too.

166 notes · View notes

kashimos-hajime · 4 years

Text

Far From Home | b.b.

summary: Bucky Barnes hates you. You play music too loud in the morning, you’re cold and closed off, you’re selfishly selfless, you confuse the hell out of him—the list could go on and on. He hates you, but when you go missing, he can’t stop himself from spending every waking hour trying to find you. What was that old saying? A fine line between hate and love? Yeah, Bucky walks that line like a man who’s had three beers too many.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of addiction, vomit, angst, y’all HATE each other fr pairing: bucky barnes x stark!sister reader word count: 10.9k

a/n: written for @wkemeup and @captain-kelli who both achieved follower milestones!! congratulations, you two! :) both prompts are bolded below. enemies to lovers who are still enemies here we go! song inspo is far from home (the raven) by sam tinnesz

“How long?”

“Seventy three hours since last contact. Fuck, Steve. Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Last I saw of her was the party but for all we know she’s just sleeping in.”

“No. My sister is not a party animal. She would’ve called me. She knows to call me.” Beep. “What am I looking at, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“Last known footage of Ms. Stark. She signed some autographs in Miami before departing for an unknown location.”

The air is frigid as the room goes quiet.

Steve speaks first. “Tony—”

Who’s gonna tell Barnes?”

A beat.

“We can’t tell him. We don’t even know if she’s missing or not.”

Bucky stops at the edge of the entrance, his ears pricked as he presses himself against the wall. Tilting his head to the door, he waits for someone to say something.

“I’m telling you that she is. I know in my heart that there is something wrong and I say that she has been captured, or injured, and that she might be scared and Barnes…” A bitter, cold, laugh that sounds more like a scoff. “He’s not going to stop until he gets her back. I don’t know about you but I don’t want some brainwashed super soldier killing everyone just because he didn’t have the balls to—”

“You can’t say that, Tony. She’s gonna show up.”

“Shut up, Steve. She would’ve found some way to call me. That girl never has her phone on 0%. She doesn’t go off the grid. This is Y/N, not some bimbo who doesn’t know better than to call her brother.”

“She isn’t a kid.”’

“She is to me! She is a kid. She is the little sister I have failed over and over to protect so why don’t you shove that little righteous speech about how she’s a grown woman up your ass.”

“Except you’re not treating her like the adult she is. You know she can take care of herself.”

Bucky can hear Tony’s soft inhale, feel the intensity of the man’s glare directed at Steve. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but a twitch of muscle would be enough to alert both men that he’s here. With the amount of tension crackling in the air, a brush against the wall would be equivalent to a thousand cymbals crashing in cacophony.

“Tony, Afghanistan wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have changed what the Ten Rings did, to you or to her. You’re not responsible for that.”

“Someone has to be. Who put her there, huh?”

“Tony—”

“You know what, I’m gonna try the London center, and go by her cabin.”

“Tony, wait—”

A door slams shut. It rattles Bucky’s bones and he swallows down the bruising in his throat as he closes his eyes, tilting his head back until it knocks into the metal walls. Missing. You, missing, and suddenly his chest is heavier than mountains. He feels like he could drown in his own blood, like every rib in his chest is breaking.

“Buck,” Steve calls, and he opens his eyes to a sting of cold air. Something tastes like iron in his mouth as he pushes off the wall and enters the room. Steve is standing there, his fingers pressed against the table as he continues to stare at the door Bucky assumes Tony left through.

“Who said she’s missing?” Bucky asks roughly in a way he hopes sounds unaffected. Steve’s eyes drag towards him, his blue eyes wide like a puppy and Bucky narrows his own gaze. “You know how she gets when she’s pissed.”

“Yeah. I wish she was more like Tony that way,” Steve sighs, his other hand hooked on his belt. “Buck, I don’t know what to say. You know what’s going on with her?”

“Nope.” His expression twitching, Bucky silently curses as Steve’s eyebrows raise, lips parting. He seems to struggle with what he wants to say and Bucky’s eyes fall to his shoes like a scolded child. Searching the tile, he swallows down the knot in his throat.

“Bucky.”

His head jerks up and he meets his best friend’s gaze defiantly. “Steve.”

“What’d you say to her?”

His lungs feel like they’re about to bust. An urgency tugs at his chest, his gut flipping over as he looks away, at the wall, anywhere except Steve’s curious, insistent gaze.

“Steve, I swear to fucking god I didn’t mean it.” His eyes flutter shut at the memory and he lowers his head in shame, leaning against the table by his hand. Everything inside him lurches and he feels like he’s going to throw up as the sound of you echoes in his head. Fury incarnate, hell freezing over at your voice. “She just told me she was stepping back. I just—” His words catch in his throat, and he can’t continue. Anger and guilt fight within him like starving beasts caged for far too long battling over a juicy flank of deer. The meat of his memory bleeds into his bones. “We had a fight before the party. It just piled up.”

“You couldn’t be coolheaded about this?” Steve asks quietly and Bucky looks at him with a terrible devil lurking in his gaze. No one has ever known—especially Tony, especially Steve. No one knows. “She’s the only person I’ve ever seen you lose your temper on, Buck.”

“You’d be surprised by what she brings out in me,” he muses flatly, that terrible thing melting into his voice. A bitter twitch to his mouth, he looks up and thinks of all the places he thinks you would go to, just to spite him. Pulling out his phone, he half-hopes to see some message from you, even if it is a drunk text. You off the rails is better than you going dead silent.

The cabin in the woods. London. Miami.

Something inside of Bucky aches for release—aches to put a hole in the wall just to feel something other than pain, rage, hate, hate, hate.

“You’re her friend,” his blond, Captain America, broad-shouldered, symbol-of-America, friend Steve says, because despite what some people think that Steve and Captain America are two different personas, there will always be parts of Steve in the Avenger, and parts of the Avenger in Steve. They both want to believe in something good. They are, after all, one in the same.

Just as how Bucky and the Winter Soldier are the same man despite everything. HYDRA simply amplified the hate, fertilized the seeds of rage, curated the quiet thunder within his soul, within James Buchanan Barnes so that the Winter Soldier could thrive.

He has spent more than half his life believing the Starks are the enemy, and half of his waking moments, wondering if it’s true. Whenever he looks at Tony, he sees Howard—the title FRIEND crossed out with violent strokes, ENEMY written in blood. Whenever he looked at you, he felt something that walked a fine line.

“We barely tolerated each other.” Bucky brushes it off, pocketing his phone and turning away. He doesn’t want to think about your damned starlight eyes that sparked with rebellion, the rope of hair you always had pulled back in a ponytail, the smear of oil, the smudge of dirt, the raw scratch of your nails. Something so primal, unadulterated ecstasy.

It was the effect of you on his mind, his body.

“That’s not what Tony thought.” Steve’s words crawl after him as he turns to walk out of the room and Bucky pauses at the silence that follows. He knows Steve well enough to know when he wants to keep going. “What is it?”

“What I said?”

“No. Buck,” Steve sighs, his name echoing coldly against metal walls. Bucky turns to see him, nearly glaring daggers, “what is it between you and her?”

Anger. Grief. Hate. Lust.

“Nothing.” Bucky shrugs despite how much it feels like there’s a thousand pound weights on his shoulders. “If she ran away without telling Stark, he’s gonna be insufferable about it, but that’s not on me.”

“So you think there’s nothing to worry about.” Bucky turns to Steve who crosses his arms, leaning against the edge of the table. His eyebrows are still raised—he wants an honest answer.

If Bucky were an honest man, he would’ve told Steve everything since the beginning, but he hasn’t and he isn’t, and Bucky does not want to hide things from Steve, but he will always make and has always made exceptions for you.

“I’ll worry when there’s something to worry about.” Steve doesn’t believe him, and Bucky chews on his cheek, stepping back into the room. There’s something he has to prove to Steve, something that isn’t even real, and Bucky feels a million pairs of eyes bearing into his back. I will not slip, I will not slip, I will not slip. “Look, she can take care of herself. She’ll show up because someone picked a fight with her and lost, and then she’ll be fine.”

“Bucky. Come on.” Steve’s trying to appeal to the kindness in his heart but Bucky doesn’t have room for it with all the unbridled fear that lurks in his chest. It carves out a home in his ribs, sits on every crevice of his sternum, sinks its teeth into his flesh. He’s terrified even though he doesn’t show it: he can’t. He can’t. “You’re not even a little bit worried?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you can’t act like you don’t care when you care more than anyone.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what was London?” The protesters. “São Paulo?” The earthquake. “Vancouver?” Freezing cold water.

“Look, I care if Stark’s gonna run us over trying to find her. I care enough because she’s part of our team. Come off it, Steve. I know she can take care of herself. I’m gonna take a nap. Dr. Cho said no partying post-Singapore and what do you know, we throw the biggest party ever.” Stiff to the bone, he puts on a smile. “See you in a bit, pal.”

Steve sighs, and the sound follows him like a ghost as Bucky leaves the conference room. His flesh fingers curl into a fist and his nails dig in hard enough he draws blood as he walks the halls, the paths engraved into his head. He takes the longest route to his room, tries to scatter his thoughts of the words shackled with fury.

He walks past your room on the way to his and he does not spare it a glance as he walks into his room and turns on the tap. The water runs copper and the sting bites at his palm as he tries not to think. Tries to focus on the numbing cold that runs over his skin.

Don’t worry. I won’t.

It’s all he does now—worry. It consumes his mind as he stares at his own reflection and curses the way his eyes seem to shimmer from cold predator to docile prey. They are always at war within him. It wasn’t until he met you that he realized it was okay to be both.

The first time Bucky meets you, he is unkempt, exhausted, and probably smells of old laundry. Black moons are printed underneath his eyes and he doesn’t remember what the light looks like as he stares blankly at the wall, at the curtains drawn over windows. He hasn’t eaten in the past few days and neither has he spoken. He’s tossed and turned on his bed, his mind still hyper fixated, his blood still congealed in his veins. He’s too exhausted to get out of a room he’s been stuck in for the past seventy two hours.

It’s been two months since Steve brought him back here. Two months and he’s still so fucking tired.

“Buck,” said friend begins and Bucky doesn’t make a sound to give any indication he’s heard. He has a pillow shoved between his head and arm, staring at the analog clock that reads 3:29 PM. “I’m coming in, okay?” He closes his eyes, preparing himself for the inevitable stream of light that’s about to blind the shit out of him and he burrows his face into the pillow. The door slides open.

He can hear Steve take in a sharp breath at the state his room’s in. There are clothes strewn everywhere and the meals that’ve been sent up are lined up on the top of his dresser, untouched, and Bucky wishes he were asleep to avoid a confrontation he knows is coming. It always happens when Steve wants him to suck it up and get out in a gentle way, but this time, Bucky can’t scrub off the blood on his hands long enough to enjoy the fact that he’s alive.

Nah. All he can remember is every bullet fired, every news headline, every pair of eyes that have ever looked at him like he’s a monster. Beast. Feral.

“You gotta get up, Buck. Pull yourself outta this slump.”

“I don’t want to.” His voice is foreign, a terrible, growling thing that pushes out of his throat uncomfortably. “I’m tired.”

“Tony’s sister’s back from Somalia, and he went to the airport to pick her up.” Steve continues, walking around the room to clean up. He begins to fold clothes and throw dirty ones into the basket in the corner of his room before walking into the bathroom. Turning on the lights, he starts rooting around for something. “Gotta make a good first impression.”

“Why should I care?” He rolls over away from the light as Steve flushes the toilet and turns on the vent. It smells musty, the air thick with not enough oxygen and too much old. Bucky lifts his head from his pillow, squinting against the pale light of his bathroom.

“Because Tony loves his sister more than life itself and she’s great. You’re gonna like her.”

“If she’s anything like Stark, I doubt it,” he grumbles, letting his face fall back to the pillow for two more seconds before rolling onto the edge of the bed and sitting up. His head spins and black dots impede his vision as he rubs at his eyes blearily. Blood rushes down his body and he lets out a groan when his muscles stretch in his back.

“That’s the spirit, Buck,” Steve says. Bucky gets up on unsteady legs, his feet strangely stiff against the floor. “We’ve got some leftovers from lunch that you can have but first just get a bit cleaned up. Wash your face, brush your teeth. Promise you’ll feel a lot better.” Bucky’s lips twitch into an almost-smile but it fades just as soon as he realizes he has to look at himself in the mirror in the bathroom.

“Yeah.”

Steve nods, heading for the door. “I’ll heat up those leftovers.”

“Thanks.”

As a parting gift, Steve sets the lights in the room on a dim setting just for him. Bucky lumbers over to the bathroom and switches on the shower, the hiss of the water running white noise for his aching head. When he steps in, he just stands under the pelting hot rain, letting it wash away the oil in his head, the feeling of wearing someone else’s skin melting just a fraction.

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he does figure making a first impression is key.

He runs his fingers through his hair, scrubs the smell of sleep off his skin, and trims his beard until he’s happy enough with how it looks before changing into new clothes. He almost feels like new as he leaves his room. He tucks his hair behind his ears, walking mindlessly, just enjoying the languid stretch and bunch of his muscles.

Eventually he makes it to the kitchen, sliding into one of the stools on the island. Steve’s just taking some glass container out of the microwave when he spots his best friend.

“Hey. Spaghetti and meatballs.” Sliding it over to Bucky, he also hands over a fork and Bucky stabs at the spaghetti. His stomach rumbles at the smell and thought of eating, but he still doesn’t feel hungry enough. He feels weak. Tired. He wants to go back to bed but he also wants to stay out in the sun for a few hours more. The sun kisses his skin through the windows and he squints against the blue sky, wondering.

“Thanks.” Turning his gaze back to the leftovers, he twirls a fork into the spaghetti just as the sound of F.R.I.D.A.Y. overhead catches their attention. He looks to Steve who’s drying a mug with a towel and he shrugs. Bringing a bite into his mouth, Bucky swallows with a relieved sigh as Steve sets down the cup and towel, heading out of the kitchen to meet their visitor.

Biting into a meatball, Bucky feels something uneasy in him coil around him tight. He knows he’s in no shape to meet new people but he’s not going to be rude about it. Practicing a smile, it feels awkward on his lips but he can’t do a thing about it as he tries to think of what to say. He knows about you from what he’s heard Stark say about you and his own digging on his teammates. You have your own Wikipedia page and everything, just like your brother, and he knows it’s an extensive article.

Just be polite. Be yourself. A voice inside him is telling him things he should know but instead, another thought whispers, But what is ‘yourself’? You barely know who you are.

“I’m tired. Guess that’s to be expected but it’s fine.” He hears you before he sees you. Bucky pretends to be as casual as he can as he listens to the four sets of footsteps approach the kitchen. He ducks his head, focusing on the spaghetti and trying to fill up his stomach to stop the uncomfortable growl that’s rumbling inside. “It’s good to see you.”

“A year is too long,” he can hear Steve say and he arches an eyebrow. Miss her that much? Bucky doesn’t want to think about it. He’s only been back two months, and it’s already hard readjusting to his own new life, not to mention Steve’s new one too. “Let me help you with your bags.”

“Thanks. Is Jenny around?”

“Girl misses you.” Stark. “It’s been hard without her sponsor, but we’ve, or more I, kept her on track. God, is this what it’s like to raise a teenage daughter?”

Sponsor. Huh.

“It’s what it’s like to sponsor a teenager who thinks she knows everything, so you’ll have half the challenge.”

“Oh, great. Hopefully, they’ll be more like Pepper.”

“I’m hoping for that, too.” Ms. Potts is here, too. Bucky pauses to listen for the telltale clicks of her heels, and when he does, he resumes eating. He’s seen her once or twice, and it’d been made clear she wouldn’t judge him for his state when she’s seen everything with Tony. That eases some of the burden from his shoulders.

“Thank you, guys. I hate leaving her here alone.”

“She’s a strong kid, Y/N,” Steve says. “Just like you.”

“Don’t suck up to my sister, Rogers. She’s been back for all of two minutes.”

Agreed. If she’s so great, just plant a kiss on her, Steve. God knows you’re the better of us now.

He raises his head just in time to see Steve enter with bags hoisted on his shoulders and a giant smile on his face. Following after is Stark in a pristine suit, not a crease in sight, and the man gives him a quick inspection before he pulls off his sunglasses and folds them, slipping them into his breast coat pocket.

“You want something to eat, G.I. Jane?” Stark asks, pulling aside and that’s when Bucky finally sets his eyes on you. His back goes stiff as he straightens up and Steve barely hides his smile as he sets down your bags. You stand there, holding on to Pepper Potts’ arm when the smile on your face fades as soon as their eyes meet. His eyes rake over your face and your body—black eye, split lip, no sleep, field uniform. They must’ve just pulled you out and by the way you try not to heavily lean onto the woman beside you, it’s medical related. Still, there’s a glint to your eye, a hunger, and he’s not blind enough to not realize you aren’t one of the most attractive people he’s ever seen.

“I’m good,” you reply, your voice no longer as light as it was. Instead, it sounds masked, fake, and Bucky nearly frowns before forcing a smile onto his face. You sound like your brother, and if Bucky wasn’t just as good at lying to oneself as you think you are, maybe he wouldn’t have noticed. It’s like you’ve donned on a façade, a personality the media loves to eat up. He can read it in the eyes. It hasn’t seemed that way but the few times he’s been out with the rest of them, he’s seen the effortless switch Stark can make between Tony Stark and just Tony. “Uh, care to introduce me?”

Right. He’s forgetting himself.

Bucky slides off the kitchen stool, quite sure that there’s no spaghetti sauce on his lip, and you soak in his haggard appearance, an appearance you seem to mirror.

“Hi,” he says, sticking out a hand but you only look at him, unimpressed. His fake smile falters but he still keeps on despite how uncomfortable this situation is getting. “I’m Bucky.”

“Oh, right.” Your voice is flat, uninterested, cold, as you stare at him. “You killed my parents.”

Shit.

“Right, anyway,” Pepper cuts in before Tony, Steve, or Bucky can say anything. “We should be going to bring her to her room. Tony, would you…” The CEO nudges her head in the way of you and he perks up, sliding into his wife’s place and looping an arm through yours. The two leave the kitchen, heads bowed together and Pepper grabs the bags.

“I’m sorry about that,” she says, eyes focused on Bucky. “It’s been a hard year, and—”

“It’s fine,” Bucky murmurs, turning to sit back down. His stomach growls and he grabs the fork, stabbing a meatball.

“Well, I’m glad to see you, Mr. Barnes,” Pepper adds softly, and she sends a smile his way before hoisting the bags up. “See you later, Steve.”

“Yeah.”

The woman leaves, and Bucky swallows, the lump of meat sitting like rocks in his gut.

“She hates me,” he says flatly and Steve looks at him with a gentle smile—a smile he doesn’t deserve.

“She holds grudges. She’s like Tony that way and he forgave you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.” Bucky sighs, looking down at his spaghetti just as Steve comes around the kitchen island, claps him on the back. “But I don’t think she’s like Tony.”

“Eat up. She’ll come around.”

You didn’t come around. Bucky thinks you never did as he leaves his room and stares at the one just across, to the left of his. How often has he tread the few steps needed to cross the hall and walk into that room often full of music or the sounds of frustrated yells?

Your room is quiet, still as the dead.

You never slept there unless it was mission-related and you needed some sleep, or Bucky really pissed you off. Sometimes it was both.

Pressing his flesh hand against the metal door, he clenches his jaw before letting it slide open with a soft swish. The absent smell of clean laundry and your perfume lingers in the air and he walks in, trying to find any difference between now and the last time he was here.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., when was the last time she was here?” he asks aloud.

“Four days ago. The last recorded entry was just before her disappearance but she has asked me to delete all footage concerning her on that night.”

“But you kept it?”

“Mr. Stark implemented a protocol Ms. Stark is unaware of. Should I make a rational call and believe that she is in danger, I am programmed to save any and all evidence that could be vital in securing her.”

“Then why haven’t you brought this to Tony?”

“Ms. Stark has coded in her own loophole in my program that Mr. Stark is unaware of. It prevents me from releasing any information that may compromise Ms. Stark and any of her activities she would rather keep secret. Like you, for example. Because I am unaware of her motives, I am caught in a bind between my two protocols.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Bucky shakes his head, heading into your bathroom and turning on the lights. All of your skincare and soaps are still there, your toothbrush untouched, and there’s a towel still hanging on the rack. Your first-aid kit is still on the counter by the sink, not clasped shut. Nothing here. Backing out, he switches off the lights and crosses his arms over his chest, frowning deeply.

“Did she take anything?” He spins around, eyes passing over your dresser, your closet. “Clothes, makeup, anything?” Walking by your made bed, he catches sight of your workbench and approaches it.

His hands brush over the screen surface and it lights up at the swipe of his fingers. The text lights up along with a login and password and he frowns thoughtfully, pressing a hand against the screen. A line scans his palm and fingers, and his eyebrows rise when it gives him access.

WELCOME BUCKY BARNES

“Run surveillance.”

The screen burns into his corneas as the feed runs and he leans over, watching as you enter the room. You’re still in that tight dress you wore to the party and you’re stuffing clothes into your bag with no rhythm or reason as you root through your dresser, through your closet. Your head isn’t turned to the camera but by the way you’re constantly wiping at your face, he wonders if you’re crying.

The timestamp tells him you took one of your suits home and he swallows when you finally zip up your bags, glancing around to see if you’ve missed something only you know you’re looking for. When you’re satisfied, you rush to the table Bucky stands at now and brings up a file, a keyboard spreading across the surface.

“What is she doing?”

“Analyzing now.”

You want me to find you, right? he wonders to himself. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, of why, and how, and I’m sorry, and he’s starting to feel sick as you plug something into the bottom of your workbench.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. makes a soft hum as she reruns the clip.

“A USB was inserted.”

“What was on it?” Automatically, his hand mimics yours and brushes against a slick black thing. Crouching, he spots the USB plugged in, blended into the metal of your workbench. Your initials are carved into the butt, jagged and so you.

“Scanning.”

Standing up again, he enlarges the surveillance feed. He looks down at your interface, at the suit designs you have saved in your files and mission reports you’ve yet to file. Steve was always on your ass about that before his eyes pass over to the feed again. It’s magnetic the way his eyes follow your movements, the dance of your fingers over an interface.

“It’s a collection of surveillance clips strung together. It appears Ms. Stark had a stalker.” The A.I.’s voice weaves into his ears as another voice streams through the workbench and Bucky frowns when a clip plays just as it does in the video.

“Can you play what she’s watching?”

The clip cuts to another and he looks at the time stamp and location. Three hours earlier.

Miami.

Shit. Bucky closes his eyes. He knows what this is. The audio continues to run and he pushes back, stung. He hears the sound of the slamming door and prays it’s the slam of the door when you walked away from him.

He is not so lucky.

“What the fuck was that?”

He stumbles back at the sound of his voice, his legs hitting the mattress. Bucky falls back, sinking into the bed, sucking in a huge breath as he stares up at your ceiling. You used to project stars onto the ceiling because it made your world so much bigger. He remembers, before everything got so fucking complicated, AKA the past week, he would spend hours next to you, pointing out constellations after he’d fucked you into the mattress.

How much simpler it was, then.

“What? You mean the reason I’m throwing a party in the first place?”

“Yeah. Yeah, the reason you’re throwing a party. This is what it’s for? Not because we just pulled off the fucking impossible?”

Your incredulous laugh: bitter, cold. “I’m allowed to choose I don’t want to do this anymore, Barnes. I’m allowed to fuck someone who isn’t you.”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“Isn’t it? That guy had his hands all over me and you couldn’t help but look like you wanted to punch his lights out. You just happened to want to talk to me the instant we started dancing. Just a coincidence, huh?”

“He is bad news.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do! It’s what you do when you’re sad. You latch onto people you think can give you the same high. It’s not healthy, robin.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are trying to control me? My fucking dad? Newsflash, you’re the guy who killed him and newsflash, he didn’t give two shits about who I really was. You think he saw me and thought I was a person? Fucking saw me as more than his perfect little charity case?”

“Y/N—”

“You have some fucking nerve thinking you have any say in what I decide to do with what life I have left. I’ve spent ten years trying to protect innocent people, and keep this together, but I can’t. I am miserable! I am so alone.” The cry in your voice splits Bucky in two as it did the first time he heard you, so weak, so isolated and little. You were cracking at the seams and he watched as you held yourself together in that room, sucking in a breath. “I am so alone except when I’m with you, and you know how much I hate that? I hate you!”

“I know, robin. I’m right here. Talk to me.”

A quivering breath—Bucky can hear your shaking through your voice as you clear your throat. “I just… I can’t, anymore. I can’t stand you. This needs to end, Barnes. I… I need to go after what I want, even if it means stepping away from this.”

“There are people who need you. I can help you—”

“I want a family. Kids, a guy who actually likes me more than my money.” He can imagine the tilt of your head, your ironic smile. His heart wilts at the thought of it. “Can you help me find a guy like that?” Pause. Your chuckle rings bitter. “Knew I wouldn’t be able to find it here.”

“So, this isn’t enough for you.”

Crackle. The audio cuts so quietly that Bucky almost thinks the footage has shorted but then he hears your voice, and he knows it’s not over. He can still replay the scene line by line, block by block in his head: straight out of a fucking movie.

“It isn’t.”

“Then, what was Singapore?” Quiet, remorseful, Bucky has never sounded so pitiful. It had been surprising in the moment, but now he only feels the wave of sorrow that slowly fills his lungs.

A moment, three beats of the heart. Bucky can almost imagine your brain turning in that small pause when everything inside his chest collapsed at the revelation that showed itself so clearly. And grief morphs into rage, if it is given the right rot to sink into.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re lying, because I know you, Y/N. I do know you, and you know me. You know I’m not afraid of you. You want a family? You got one right here.”

“Well, I don’t want this one.”

Ragged breathing. He swore he could hear I don’t want you bouncing off the walls.

Bucky wants to knock himself out to stop himself from hearing this torture, from reliving all the regret that comes down on him in waves but he can’t. He loves the pain that comes with you, the difficulty of knowing you. It has made his every day a welcomed challenge ever since he met you.

“Then what kinda family do you want, huh? Picket fence, apple pie on the weekends?” There is no answer. “Are you so incapable of recognizing what you want that you’ll jump into bed with any guy who shows the slightest bit of decency towards you? Because then you’re just setting yourself up for more hurt when you realize that you are not going to be happy with him.”

“I slept with you, didn’t I?”

In hindsight, Bucky knows it stings more than it did the first time around.

“And you hate me. And you’ll hate whoever you love who isn’t someone like us because he won’t understand the way you want him to. He will never understand you. You’ll hate yourself because you can’t love him the way you want to, the way he will love you, and you don’t deserve your own hate. You deserve better than that.”

“You have no idea what I deserve.”

He has a crystal clear idea of what you deserve. It is more than the world has to offer, it is more than he can ever give you.

“No.” Finality. The swing of a guillotine. Within moments, everything had fractured between you two. “I guess I don’t. I have no idea who you are, or your problems, or anything about your life. I don’t know you at all, so why not let me be honest since we’re complete strangers?” The sarcasm is dripping from his voice and you let out a disbelieving scoff.

“Oh, for the love of—”

“You‘re so terrified of opening yourself up again that the next time a guy hurts you, you’re afraid you’re not gonna make it. But you think you’re so riddled with problems that no one will ever love you. You’re so convinced that you’re unlovable.” Recording-Bucky pauses, watching your reaction. “Even though it’s not true.

“Yes, it is.”

“I don’t want to tell you for the billionth time that any guy would be lucky to have even a scrap of your attention, robin. I don’t want to keep telling you when you don’t even try to believe it. So, tell me, how are you gonna find your ‘dream man’ if you think you’re unlovable? Is he just gonna fly into your lap like a fucking angel? Do you even know what you’re looking for?” He waits, then: “I thought so.”

You exhale sharply, and it’s bitter against the roof of his mouth as delicate, fake niceties wave their way into your words. “You know what? I’ll figure it out without you, and I didn’t throw a party to be attacked by the one person who’s supposed to have my back. You don’t have to be happy for me, but you could’ve at least sucked it up and held yourself back from ruining my night. I’m leaving, whether you like it or not. Good luck with your new partner, Barnes.”

Fading clicks of heels that stop at his words.

“Oh, so now you’re walking away because I’m right?”

“Oh, no, I’m not walking away from your incessant need to be right. I’m walking away from you.” There is a moment of silence, as if to grieve what has come to pass, and when you speak again, you’re so incredibly sad that Bucky’s heart is in shambles in his chest. His lungs weep, his ribs ache, and he rolls onto his side, eyes closed as he lets the sound of words he still remembers wash over him. “You’re ridiculous. You know that right?” You laugh again, except it’s colder, more incredulous and shackled with sadness. He wishes he didn’t know you so well. “You’re fucking transparent.”

Echoing footsteps.

“If you walk away now, don’t bother coming back!”

Silence. Bucky can hear his own strained breathing, your soft sigh as you soaked in his ultimatum.

“Don’t worry. I won’t.”

The door slams shut.

Bucky tells F.R.I.D.A.Y. to shut off the workbench and simply lays there on your bed for he doesn’t know how long.

He thinks he will simply shatter should he put his foot on the ground again.

You're cold, arrogant, and smarter than almost everyone in the room and you know it. You own it, and if Bucky didn’t hate that kind of person who thinks she’s better than anyone just because she’s rich, he’d admire both you and your beauty.

But you are rich, and entitled, and absolutely, in some way or another, the worst. You’re worse than your brother, spiteful, and quick to anger, but that might be because you hate Bucky in particular. That’s fine. Bucky doesn’t particularly have an inclination to be your friend either. In fact, he’d rather you stay away to avoid any clashes that have barely been prevented by your off-hand comment of him not being worth the energy and his talent for ignoring you despite how you get his blood boiling.

Unfortunately, your room is right across the hall from his, and what he gets out of you is a passing glance full of spite every morning to really start his day. Sometimes, he sees you and you’re on the phone or in the gym, running drills with Tony in the air, or just flat out ignoring him, but most of the time, you’re not even at the compound, and Bucky prefers this the most.

He supposes passive loathing is better than you, with your unlimited resources, actively trying to ruin his life. He can’t help but match your level of dislike when you blast music in the mornings and your rain noises at night.

He’s woken up to your music to shout at you to turn it down every day you’ve raised it above a decent limit, but you simply ignore him, close the door on his face, and emerge thirty minutes later for your morning jog.

Bucky can’t go back to sleep after, so he has no choice but to socialize with whoever’s awake at six in the morning who turn out to be Steve and Sam Wilson. He joins their gym competition, welcomes the stretch and pull of muscles in the early hours to wake himself up despite how hard it is to get his body to pull itself out of bed. Steve likes that he’s out of his room more often, anyway, so he supposes he should be grateful for small blessings, even if he doesn’t show it.

Whenever Steve brings it up, Bucky shoots back he can’t go back to his room because there is no existence of peace or quiet.

It’s on one such a morning that he’s standing outside, listening to the beginnings of some seventies jam pound through the walls, that he reminds himself of this fact.

“Open up, Stark!” he yells, telling himself if you don’t answer, he’s gonna pound that door down. “I’m not gonna ask again.” Something shuffles inside and he frowns, leaning in closer to try to listen in on the muffled voices before it swings open and he jerks back, face settling in a scowl his muscles are trained to do every time he sees you.

“What?” Your voice is sharper than the sharpest blade as you glower at him and the sight of you burns itself into its irises. He knows you’re put together. That’s the mask you like to put up—you’re a Stark, you have to be. Rarely has he ever seen your brother a mess around people he doesn’t know, but now you appear before him. You’re pale, in the clothes he’d seen you wear the night before, and everything about you reminds him of something fading away as you wait for him to speak.

“Are you alright?” he asks stiffly, and you merely stare at him blankly for a moment as if you were going to answer truthfully before the sound of someone throwing up catches both of their attention. Turning around, you disappear into your room, and Bucky stands outside awkwardly, waiting. The music is still blasting but he realizes it’s one he recognizes. Trouble Man of a soundtrack of the same name. Sam always recommends it to him whenever he mentions something even remotely related to music.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Come on, just get it out.” The sound of your voice, smooth and warm, draws him in and he tentatively walks into your room, eyes scanning his surroundings. Another bout of retching draws him to the bathroom where he sees a pair of legs sprawled over the tile. You hold a girl by her arm, the other scooping her hair behind her head.

“Glad to hear you’ve begun to wake at a decent hour, Barnes,” you comment without turning your head away from the girl hunched over your toilet seat. Finally, she pulls back and collapses against you, and you grab at a rag above your head hanging on the countertop and pat at her forehead. “Get her into bed.”

“No…” the girl moans, legs curling underneath her as she pulls into a ball. Bucky’s eyes widen. She looks so small. “Don’t wanna move.”

“It’s alright, darling. He’s gonna carry you.” Your eyes find his again and he walks in, crouching by her waist. “On three.” Bucky’s hands scoop underneath her knees and the other goes underneath her back as you grab the trashcan and stack of towels.

“One, two, three.” With a gentle yet hasty lift, the girl is hoisted into the air and transported onto the bed. Bucky backs up as soon as she’s down and you rush in beside him. You begin to tuck her into bed, your movements practiced, and Bucky is struck with the realization.

“This is Jenny,” he breathes, and you turn to him, eyes narrowed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get a basin, fill it with cold water, and more trash bags.” Nodding, he turns back to the bathroom, opening the cabinet beneath the sink to pull out a plastic basin. “Fuck, Jen. It’s okay, let it all out.” Over the stream of water, he pricks his ear to the sound of a sob-wrecked voice.

“‘M sorry, Y/N. Just wanted to feel better.”

“I know.”

“It was so hard.”

“I know. Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you came to me, okay?” Turning off the sink, he walks back to the bed and sets the basin by your feet before procuring some trash bags and setting them by the trash can as well. You’re leaned over, dotting the girl’s brow as he takes the moment to look around your room. It’s messy, a mess of clothes and bags strewn everywhere, books on tables, forgotten cups, but it’s organized. He can see it. “Get some sleep, okay? You’re gonna feel pretty fucking shitty over the next few weeks.”

“I know.” Bucky’s gaze drags back to you as you pull back on your heels, standing up straight. Your eyebrows are drawn together still as you pull the covers up to the girl’s chin. Wiping at your own forehead with the back of your hand, you nearly back up into him and he holds out his hands to prevent you from bumping into him.

The instant his fingers make contact with your back, you whip around like a startled deer.

“You,” you breathe, sounding strangely spooked and he backs up, hands where you can see them. You swallow and the fear in your eyes washes away when you blink. Clearing your throat, you try to make yourself seem more presentable with a swipe of hair out of your face, a clearing of your throat, but he doesn’t know why it matters.

“Is she going to be okay?” he asks with a quick glance at Jenny who’s slipped away already. You brush past him, turning down the music from your phone, plucking a hoodie from a hook on the wall and jerking your head for him to follow.

“She’ll be fine.” Opening the door, you lean against the wall outside as Bucky steps into the pale, luminescent lights. It’s much cooler outside, the blue making the metal look cold as you pull on the hoodie and cross your arms over your chest.

You’re wearing an AC/DC hoodie, and Bucky counts himself lucky he hasn’t woken up to that yet. He gets enough from Stark blasting it as they take the quinjet on missions.

“Close the door a bit,” you say, but everything that comes out of your mouth sounds like an order. Still, Bucky complies before looking at you blankly. He’s come to expect nothing but hostility from you, and instead, you look almost relieved. “Don’t tell Tony why I brought her here. She texted me last night in the city and I had to pick her up.”

“I thought she was getting better,” Bucky says and you scowl. He knows you don’t like what he’s implying but he keeps his tone cool, even. “Stark took care of her the year you were gone, right?”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, but she was lying.”

“To Iron Man?” It takes guts, and a whole lotta skill. Bucky narrows his eyes at you, but you stand upright, unafraid to stare back. Normally, a passing glance causes recruits to scatter, but you merely let the cold slide off of you. “What kinda kid does that?”

“She’s an addict. Addicts are good at lying, Barnes, for whatever reason they have.” You fiddle with your phone in your hand before uncrossing your arms and looking at the screen. “Fuck. It’s seven, already?”

“Miss your morning jog?” he retorts half-heartedly, and you shoot him a glare, pocketing the device and brushing past him.

“Yeah, actually. I had more important things to worry about.” Letting the door click shut behind you, he listens to you shuffle around inside your room, presumably cleaning up and goes back into his room with a slam.

At lunch, you come down to grab an extra bowl of stew for Jenny and Bucky offers to make up your run with one together in the evening as he hands you a bowl he’s ladled with extra beef and carrots. You tell him you’re busy and brush him off without a second look back.

“And Jenny?” he asks lowly, but you merely shoot him a look that tells him to shut up.

“I can take care of her myself,” you growl softly, snatching the bowl and disappearing through the doorway. Tony makes a comment about grudges, Steve doesn’t say a word.

Before he heads to bed, Bucky hears you whispering tired phrases over the sound of Jenny throwing up again and lets himself in. You’re in too big clothes that nearly swallow your frame and you’re exhausted as you run a hand down Jenny’s back who dry heaves until she collapses against the tub. You reek of coffee and Bucky wrinkles his nose at the smell of acid and regurgitated beef stew, watching your limp hand flush the toilet.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” he asks, and you glance up, eyes barely open. Lips curving down, you shake your head and fight to stay awake as Jenny curls into a ball against the tile. Your arms are propped up on your knees and your head dips as you let out a sigh.

“Get out,” you whisper. Bucky frowns, soaking in your words before stepping inside. He ignores your stink eye as he scoops up Jenny again, bringing her to your bed, and he lays her down, pulling the covers to her chin. A stale glass of water and an empty bowl lay on the bed stand while his foot kicks into the first aid kid tucked underneath the bed.

Turning to the bathroom, his feet barely make a sound against the floor as he spots you frozen in your spot, head dipped.

Bucky doesn’t need to be a super soldier to know you’re fast asleep. Crouching, he listens to your steady breathing, the soft mumbles under your breath and he gently pokes your arm.

“Wake up,” he whispers and you jolt awake, your back ramming hard against the cupboard with a painful gasp. Your leg jerks back, your knee to your chest and he flinches back, hands raised just as your foot collides with his solar plexus. The air pushed out of his lungs, he slams back into the tub with a painful slam, and he sucks in a huge breath, clutching his chest. “Fuck—”

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Your breathing is jagged, your chest heaving. Within your eyes, he sees something wild flare behind your irises and he sinks into the floor, slouched against the tub.

“Okay,” he replies, quiet. He doesn’t want to wake Jenny up and the only sound is your desperate breaths, your hiccuping sighs. Your eyes are still wild, and you stare at him with an open fear he has not seen ever reside in your gaze. “Y/N—”

“Get out,” you whisper harshly between your teeth. He can tell it takes all your courage not to scream, your whole body taut with the urge to run. He stands up slowly, hands open so you can see his every movement. “Get out.”

“I’m going.” Leaving the room slowly, he feels your stare burn into your back and there’s a clatter of something against the floor tile. The sound of whales humming ushers him out and the door slams shut behind him as soon as he’s out the door. There’s a ravenous hole inside him, devouring him in bit by bit the longer he stands outside your door, and his judgement gets the better of him as he turns around with the deepest sigh.

Pressing his ear against the door, he closes his eyes and tries to listen past the whale crooning but he can’t. Besides, it settles on his skin uneasily—a thick coat of oil and discomfort that traps him in. He returns back to his room and doesn’t sleep right away as he usually does.

He’s breaking habits around you, whether he likes it or not. Pulling out a notebook Steve bought for him a few days after he found him, he picks a pen from his small collection, and begins to write.

“You haven’t seen her?” Bucky asks, running a hand through his hair. On the other end of the phone, Jenny makes a small noise that tells him no.

“Not since the last meeting. She was fine, but she looked tired. That’s all.” Flipping over the sleek USB in his hand, Bucky runs a thumb along your initials and sighs. “You… you don’t think—”

“If she went off the tracks, there would’ve been warning signs,” he assures her quietly. “We know that. No McDonald’s, no spending spree, no random gifts.” Leaning against the rails of the compound, he looks at the crowd of news reporters outside. Tony has a press conference in half an hour.

It’s been two days since the Avengers social media accounts released a statement regarding a mission you’ve gone off to. It’ll buy them time without anyone expecting you, but as always, the media is questioning what mission, where, why, how. They want all the details.

“Completely off the grid operation,” Steve had offered. Tony agreed for lack of a better idea. The man was out of his mind, eye bags Bucky had seen frequently drag at your eyes brushing his face.

“Did she ever tell you anything about a stalker?” He dips his chin to look at his cleaned boots. There’s still a mud scuff on the toe from his walk through the woods earlier to clear his head of you, but it’s nothing a few swipes with a towel can’t fix.

“No, why?” Jenny’s voice twinges and Bucky sighs again. He doesn’t have enough energy to breathe these days when it’s all spent on trying to find clues of what you’ve left behind. “At the last AA meeting, she talked about Afghanistan. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her talk about it around a bunch of people she doesn’t know.”

“She went into detail?”

“Not too much. Just ended with what she always says.”

“‘You can’t wait for someone to fly underneath you and save your life. I think you have to save yourself.’” As Bucky quotes it, he can hear your voice saying it, cold, dead, ravaged by tears you’ve never stopped unleashing. God, it was one of your go to excuses for ignoring help even when he thought you needed it. It infuriated him—it made him respect you, anyway. “Well, she can fly alright.”

“Yeah. It was her go to thing to say whenever I wallowed in my self-pity, and decided enough was enough. I always thought she was the worst person I’ve ever met.”

“You probably know far worse,” Bucky replies distantly. You know me. “But she did something right. You’re okay, now.”

“I only wish I could’ve helped her somehow,” she says. “Since the day I met her… hah, she was an angry person, Bucky. And lonely, and sad. And she never counted on anyone. Never asked for a thing for herself. Never trusted anyone except herself.” For a moment, Jenny doesn’t say anything despite him knowing she has something on her tongue. Bucky’s flesh hand wraps around the pole, feeling it cool against his hot palm. “That changed when she met you.”

Liked. Was. As if you are dead and he has failed you. As if they’ve ripped off every tooth and claw off of you, drained you of your spirit that has shattered and mended too many times for him to count. As if you are missing, and he has fucked up, and his tongue is heavy in his mouth as he clears his throat and his mind.

“Mhm.”

“I know she never said it, but she did. She trusted you.”

“Yeah, well,” he breathes with a shrug, twisting so he faced the railing. The coil inside of him pulls tighter, “we’ll figure that out after we find out.”

“She talked about her death so often, I feel like it’s real this time. Like she’s really missing and she doesn’t want to be found,” comes the hushed reply. “I don’t want to give up, Bucky, but—”

“I know.”

“Call me if you find anything,” Jenny orders, sounding a lot like you. Bucky agrees, lifeless. As if he wouldn’t.

“I’d feel better if you stayed at the compound.”

“Maybe I’ll come over later tonight. I’m gonna go watch the press junket, see what Tony says, and then go to class. Keep my mind off of it, and the possibilities.”

“Okay. Stay safe, and call me. I’m still here for you.” Jenny hangs up and Bucky groans, tilting his head back and bracing himself against the rail. You are much better at handling her than he is. Always was.

“Hard night?” He cranes his neck to see Natasha walking up to him in a pencil skirt and dress jacket. Huh. Black Widow all dressed up and no place to go.

“Harder day. You going to the junket?” he asks, arching an eyebrow at her outfit and she smiles but there’s nothing to it. He figures. Natasha loved you like a sister. Loved. He needs to not pick up the habit of talking about you like you’re dead. You aren’t.

He would’ve felt it if you were. He knows it.

“Yeah. Tony needs the support, and I’ll be there in case he needs me to take over. He’s losing his mind over this. You?”

“No. Stark’s good at playing the press and he doesn’t need me there when I’m pretty sure he hates me,” Bucky says and Natasha’s smile shrinks, leaning in beside him. “I’m always fucking his family over.” His poor attempt at a joke makes her chuckle wryly, the sound coming out choked and wet. “You okay, Nat?”

“I know we’re trying to be positive here, but… she said someone was following her. I told her it was crazy. That no one would fucking snatch her when we’re there, but…” Pinching the bridge of her nose, she closes her eyes and trails of tears race down her cheeks. “She was so worried about something else that I said I’d keep an eye out for her. If someone did catch her… and that’s why… I fucked up, James.” Her eyes meet his again, wide with fear, open to the softest spots of her. It’s rare and it alarms Bucky to no end. If Natasha’s scared, there’s a reason to be fucking terrified.

“We all did,” he murmurs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You should probably head down there before they kill you.”

“Ah, yeah. Give me a sec.”

“Okay.” Bucky turns and leans back onto the railing again, letting a gentle silence rest over the two trained killers. He doesn’t say anything when Natasha lets out a soft, shuddering breath and wipes at her face with a tissue from a pack in her pocket. In turn, she offers him one. He declines. Natasha shrugs and wipes away smears of makeup that she somehow knows are there. Bucky never understood the magic of it all—you and Nat had such a talent for seeming so put together it made you both impossible to read.

Bucky likes to think he’s gotten better at it over the past two years, for the both of them.

His throat aches as he blinks, and the stinging in his eyes eases as he sucks in a cold breath. The heel of his flesh hand rubs at his face angrily, swiping away his grief and Natasha pretends not to see it, putting away her pack.

“She’s missing. I know she is,” Natasha says with dreadful confidence. “But I also know she doesn’t want you to give up on her, you know? She liked you more than anyone.”

“Yeah, that’s what people keep telling me,” he snaps, voice rough, grating. She doesn’t want you to give up, some part of his head notes, not doesn’t want ‘us’. Bucky’s gaze meets Natasha’s, and the woman merely smiles softly. She knows he’s caught her. “Funny way of showing it.”

“You know she didn’t hate you,” Nat whispers, a hand on his forearm. Bucky shakes his head, hair curtaining him away from his old student. “You know you didn’t hate her. It isn’t too late to make things right.” A pressure crushes him from the center of his head, a world placed between his shoulders as he struggles to hold up this façade you can wear for months on end.

He doesn’t hate you.

“It’d be much easier if I knew she was dead already. I know how to make peace with ghosts.”

It’d be much easier if he did.

Natasha’s mouth curls into a wry smile. “As if she’d ever make peace with you.”

The only time Bucky really is forced to spend time with you is when they run drills, and Bucky likes to think he works well with you if you can hold your tongue for more than two seconds. You’re a snarky little thing who can warn him not to bring up Jenny again with just a single glance and convey your intent to target with just the twitch of your lip. Then again, you’re easy to read on the battlefield. You make your objectives clear.

His knuckles ache wonderfully and he can hear a solid kick land a few ways off. Turning, he watches as you twist to launch a powerful sidekick at a dummy, letting it fly a few feet away before going to grab it.

“Where were you stationed?” he asks wearily as you wipe the sweat off your brow. Half of him yells for even approaching the beast, but he’s not afraid of you. You just piss him off so easily and by your arched brow in surprise that he’s talking to you, you know it. A call over the PA warns them of supper, and Bucky sighs, wiping at sweat with the back of his hand.

His muscle shirt is slick with the evidence of his labour as he hoists the dummies up to carry them back into the warehouse a little ways off. You pick up your own dummy and walk after him. “Before Somalia, I mean?” How did you get your own set of problems, he asks quietly to himself, because they don’t just start overnight and you don’t get help like everyone else. What is it with you? Pride?

“Former navy. Cryptologic linguist, two tours, then Afghanistan. I’m head of the Stark Relief Foundation, so I was touring with my brother at his insistence,” you say flatly. “It went wrong. That’s it.”

He stops along the track, meeting your eyes. You skid to a halt beside him. “Kidnapped?” Like your brother?

Your eyes are piercing but he doesn’t falter. He can tell no one really speaks your mind around you so when your eyes command him to shut up, he doesn’t. It might be pushing you a bit, but he has a feeling no one asks. Maybe they’re too afraid of you like you’re some princess, but he doesn’t care.

Bucky’s never met a princess quite like you before.

“None of your business,” you correct. He scoffs, rolls his eyes and meets your eyes again.

“You got a therapist?”

“Oh, you know what?” You put on a sickly sweet smile, dumping your dummy at his feet. “Put it away for me, won’t you, sarge?” The thing bounces against his shins, and the beginnings of his own smirk drop off his face as you begin to walk away.

“I don’t work for you, Stark. Clean up after yourself.”

He watches as your figure turns around, your lips turned in a mocking pout. “Oh, I do, but seeing as you’re about to become insufferable, I need to take a walk.”

“Can’t take it?”

“You’re the one with a million questions. Why don’t you figure anything out before you ask stupid questions like the paps? The internet exists for a reason.”

“I like to rely on the primary source,” he shoots back and you laugh. It sounds just as mocking as your pout looked and the sound strangles out any air in his lungs. His blood boils at your grin.

“As if the primary source is reliable. Which you should understand by the way.”

Your words work underneath his skin and his lips twist deeply into a scowl. “Thanks for the reminder. At least I’m getting help for my problems. When’s the last time you saw your therapist?”

“Don’t have one. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” Really? Liar. “Who’s the one with the chip, anyway? I think that’s fucking dealing.”

Who’s the one who needs one? Bucky wants to say in kind, but he doesn’t. “You know just as well I do that it isn’t.”

“I hate you,” you tell him plainly. “You have no idea what happened or what I’ve been through and you’re making these assumptions that I need to deal with something. I don’t.”

“Does anyone really know what happened to you?” he snaps, dropping his targets to the grass.

He expects you to jut out your chin, say yes, obviously. Your whole life is plastered on social media—Instagram, Twitter, the occasional Snapchat story—that you’re a book everyone and no one knows how to read.

“No.” Your voice colder than the antifreeze in his blood and his eyebrows rise at the shimmer of doubt in your gaze. “And I don’t want to talk about it with someone like you.”

“Which is?” He keeps his tone even despite the simmering, bitter sensation that cramps up his chest and urges him to throw himself forward and scream.

“A killer—” You walk up to him, eyes unforgiving— “who thinks there’s damage in everyone just ‘cause the world fucked up with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Your eyebrows rise and fall as you shove your face into his. You’re tantalizingly close, and he frowns at the lick of fire inside his gut when you snarl, “I’m not fucking broken, Barnes. You don’t know shit about me. You don’t need to psychoanalyze me and try to figure out what’s wrong with the rich girl.”

“Something's always wrong with the rich girl,” he retorts, and you laugh. It’s empty, hollow, but still, you laugh and it makes him uneasy, cornered, prey.

“Not me. My life is fucking peachy right now. Hell, I’m talking to the guy who killed my mom and somehow not strangling him despite every thought in my head telling me to wrap my hands around your throat.” You tilt your head, and a saccharine smile somehow splits your face eerily. “Guess I’m the bigger person that way.” You begin to walk away from him and Bucky opens his mouth, his throat cinched shut as he tries to calm the rage inside him. “See you around, sarge.”

He waits until you’re gone before he begins the journey to the warehouse.

He has to make a return trip for the dummy you dropped at his feet, and he’s late for supper. Steve asks why he’s late, and Bucky doesn’t miss your sly smirk as you dig into your burger.

“No reason,” he lies. “Just decided to take my time from the warehouse.”

Two can play at that game.

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puckinghell · 4 years

Text

The Plus One Pact | William Nylander | Part 4

Summary: Your ex is getting married, and you don’t have a date, which means the unavoidable “why don’t you have a boyfriend” question is about to haunt you for the rest of eternity. But then there’s Will, who could be the answer to all your problems. A simple business pact, no feelings involved: that won’t be hard for you, because you really don’t like him anyways. Except pacts were made to be broken… or something. Right?

Note: This is part 4. Click here for part 1 | part 2 | part 3

You don’t know how it happens.

Okay, you kinda do.

One night, you get a text from Will that’s just a screenshot of a very strongly worded email to a certain balloon company, and then three crying-from-laughter emojis.

Still not funny!!! you text back, and you expect not to hear from Will again until the wedding.

You’re wrong. When he texts you again the next day, asking how you work was, you figure it would be rude not to answer, and then when the phone rings late one night, you worry something is wrong, so you answer that, too.

“What was your day like?” Will’s voice is quiet and timid when he asks, and you take it you’re not gonna talk about that awful game they just had, so you talk to him about your day for an hour until his voice is lighter and he’s laughing again.

It starts happening more and more, and before you really realize it, it’s weird when you haven’t heard from Willy in a day.

To be truthful, it turns out Zach was right; as he usually is, which you would rather die than tell him.

But Will is different when it’s just you two, and your favorite moments with him are when he calls after games and his voice is laced with sleep and you can nearly hear the smile through his voice when he asks you about your day. Everything about him is muted, then, but it feels real, and important, somehow.

You even learn to appreciate how annoyingly chipper he is, because sometimes you really do need someone to just laugh at your bad mood until it goes away.

You also learn that, like you expected on the plane to Calgary, Will keeps his head high but it’s mostly a facade. Comments get to him, especially when they’re about his hockey – “that’s the only thing I was supposed to be good at” he jokes one time, and you wanna hit him over the head with his hockey stick until he understands that that’s not true – and he takes everything personal, although he tries not to show it.

Everything you didn’t like about him, you find out, is something you either got wrong about him or learned to appreciate.

And there’s so much more to like about him, too.

One night, after a really bad day at work, you have a fight with your sister about Noah’s stupid wedding.

“Why are you so against coming?” your sister says, a little too aggressive. “Surely you aren’t still in love with him? He’s happy with Betty, Y/N.”

Of course you’re not still in love with Noah, but it hurts that she can’t just accept that you don’t wanna go. That she can’t take your side in this, even if she doesn’t know the full story. She should trust that you’re not being difficult for no reason.

And you can’t help yourself; it’s late and you know Will just got done with his game, and he’s all the way in Carolina but you call him anyway.

He answers almost immediately.

“Y/N?” he asks, and he sounds surprised. It’s to be expected, because he’s almost always the one calling you, but it stings a little, nonetheless.

“Uhm, hi.” You pause. “Is it… okay that I called?”

“Of course. Always.” Will sounds truthful, so you decide to take his word for it.There’s no more extra space in your brain to worry about that, as well.

“Congrats on the game.”

“Thanks.” You hear Willy’s grin. “I’ve told Zachy we’re both very proud of him for that OT winner.” There’s an indignant huff next to him that sounds a lot like Zach and you figure they’re still on the bus, where Willy usually sits with Kappy or Zach.

It’s quiet, then Willy’s voice, treading very carefully: “Is something wrong? You don’t sound too happy.” There’s some stumbling and you can almost see how Willy must be elbowing Zach away from the phone, because Zach is basically an overprotective dad whenever he hears anyone isn’t doing well.

But Willy… Willy isn’t like that, but he sounds worried anyway, and he sounds gentle like he’s trying to calm you down, and suddenly you’re telling him everything: about the day you’ve had and your job that sucks and that you’re worried about the wedding and why can’t your family just trust you, for once, and what if this all isn’t worth it just to keep your family happy?

When you’re done, Willy’s voice is soothing. The background noise has disappeared. Maybe the bus has stopped.

“It’s worth it,” is what he says. “You know it’s worth it.”

You sigh. It’s annoying still that he’s usually right.

“I just don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“And tonight you don’t have to.” There’s a sudden noise and then Will cursing. “Fuck, sorry, hold on, I’m trying to open this stupid hotel door…” More crashing and banging, and then Willy’s voice reappears. “Tonight you don’t have to deal with anything, okay? We can FaceTime and watch a movie together.”

And that… That actually sounds really nice, and like it doesn’t require any brain power which is good because you have none of that left anyway.

“Hey, what’s your favorite take out food?”

It’s such a random question, out of the blue, and when you tell him that, the blurry FaceTime screen can’t hide his eye roll.

“It’s just something friends are supposed to know about each other, now tell me.”

“Sushi when I’m feeling fancy,” you say, “or pizza when I need comfort food.”

You can’t even pretend to be that surprised when a massive pizza shows up at your door 30 minutes later.

You hate that it nearly brings tears to your eyes, but after the day you’ve had…

“Thank you, Willy,” you mumble, and there’s something soft to his look when he smiles at you.

“What are friends for?” he asks, and you realize you don’t even mind that he’s declared himself your friend, now.

A few weeks ago, you would’ve disputed it. But now, you find yourself kinda wishing it could be more.

What are friends for is apparently your motto now, and it’s all a little strange as you get into the car, your fanciest, most beautiful dress and highest heels on.

“You look great,” Zach says. He’s wearing a suit and his hair is slicked back, the way it always is when he’s really trying.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you reply, a little grumpily. “I hate team events.”

“I never did understand why.” Zach starts the car and backs out of your driveway. You’ve been told Alannah is going to the venue straight from work, and Willy had an appointment and couldn’t come get you, which is why you’re in the car with Zach, now.

“Because I don’t fit in there.” It’s the honest answer, but it’s obviously not the whole story. The whole story is that those events are filled with beautiful women, and you never feel quite up to par; like you snuck into a place you’re not welcome, not supposed to be welcome, either. But Zach wouldn’t get that. Willy wouldn’t get that either.

And you just couldn’t come up with an excuse fast enough, not when he said: “But Y/N, it’s for charity.”

It would not matter to the charity, of course, if you didn’t come. But Willy had looked so hopeful, and then he’d pulled out the final card: “It’s gonna be way more fun with you there by my side.”

And now you’re wearing a dress appropriate for a charity gala, which means you’ve never felt more uncomfortable in anything in your life, and your feet already hurt from your heels, and this was such a bad idea, God.

“You know,” Zach says, and his tone tells you this conversation is going somewhere you don’t want it to go. “Willy doesn’t like these events either. It means a lot to him that you’re coming for support.”

You nearly roll your eyes. “Willy charmed the socks off every person at my boss’ wedding, Zachy. He really doesn’t need my support for these kinda things.”

Zach’s face stays stoic. “Yeah, but nobody at that wedding knew him.”

“So?” you frown. “That should only be a disadvantage, considering he’s William Nylander.”

Zach laughs, then. “Still haven’t figured it out, then? I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. I thought you were good at reading people.”

“Hey!” you react, offended. You are good at reading people. It’s one of the things you pride yourself on. “If you know it all so well, why don’t you just tell me?”

Zach sighs. “Willy doesn’t like these events anymore because he is William Nylander, as you say it, and that’s not really a popular name in Leafs territory, right now.”

And, oh.

That.

“I did realize he cares a lot more about what people think than I thought he did.” You pause. “More than he should, probably.”

“Definitely.” Zach’s face has that protective big brother vibe about it, again. You used to not understand, why he always looked like that when people were talking shit about Willy.

You get it, now.

“There’s always plenty more people telling him he’s great, than there are people sending him snarky looks,” Zach continues. “But he never really believes any compliments he gets, so that doesn’t help.”

Suddenly, you realize something.

You’ve never really… complimented Willy? Even when you realized he cared more than he let on, you still just assumed he knew how great he was. Sometimes, he kinda fishes for something – “Did you see my goal?” “How about my cooking abilities?” “I know how to pick a good movie, right?” – but you’d always laughed and chirped him for it.

“If your head gets any bigger, it’ll explode.”

And Willy is always complimenting you; he tells you you look great all the time, even when you decidedly dont’t, but he clearly remembered what you told him about Noah because that’s never the only thing he compliments you about.

He tells you how smart you are, “I like how good you are with animals”, how any food you make is the best thing he’s ever eaten, if only everyone was as lovely as you.

You feel guilty, now. If Willy is your friend, you’ve really not been doing such a good job at being his friend, too.

You’re fixing that tonight, you decide right then and there.

“I’ll make him believe it,” you tell Zach, and it comes out sounding vaguely threatening.

Zach laughs. “Thought you didn’t like him?”

“Maybe he’s not as bad as I thought he was,” you admit, and you don’t tell Zach how much you really, really do like Willy, but you think Zach kinda knows anyway.

Will meets you at the door, where Alannah is also waiting for Zach. He smiles at you, eyes soft.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” He quickly presses his lips to your temple, which is a new development that you don’t really know how to handle.

But Will is a tactile guy, anyway, so you’re sure you shouldn’t read too much into it.

You see Zach’s raised eyebrow, and suddenly remember – fine, maybe you’d forgotten your objective for a second because Will looks really hot in that suit, but you’re back on track now.

“You look beautiful too, Will.”

Willy’s eyes widen and a flush creeps up on his cheek, but before he can answer you grab his hand and pull him into the building.

It’s a fancy, really expensive hotel, where the gala is being held. It’s filled to the brim with people, a few of which you recognize, most of which you don’t.

“That chandelier must be worth more than our entire house,” Alannah mutters, and you’re glad to see it’s affecting her too, although she’s been to these events many times.

Zach laughs. “With a puppy in the house, aren’t you glad we don’t have any furniture that costs more than our mortgage?”

“Do you want a drink?” Will’s lips are close enough to your ear to hear him over the noise of the crowd and the music in the background, and also close enough to feel his hot breath against your neck. It takes everything in you not to shiver.

Maybe you do need a drink. Or ten.

Willy and Zach go to get the drinks and Alannah leads you to where some of the other WAGs are. Steph is the only one you know and she hugs you as soon as she sees you coming, then introduces you to the rest.

“So, you’re with Will, huh?” she asks, eyebrows waggling.

You were expecting that question, but maybe not so soon into the evening.

“Uhm,” you cough, “not really. Just his plus one for tonight.”

“Sure,” Steph says, and she looks like she doesn’t believe you at all.News always travels fast in the WAGs group, and Alannah is looking a little guilty.

You find you don’t mind so much, that they think that you’re together. Although you really don’t wanna think about why you don’t mind.

When Willy finds you, Kappy and his girlfriend are with him, and the four of you make your rounds throughout the room, talking to any sponsor that seems interested in a conversation. Mostly you just stand there while Willy talks, his hand on your back as if he’s scared you’re gonna run off.

“I always thought this would be a lot of work,” you mumble in Willy’s ear, when you’re between conversation partners. “But I really only have to stand here and look pretty.”

Willy grins. “Seems like it comes natural to you.”

Right. You kinda forgot about the compliments again.

You shrug, lean a little closer until you’re basically pressed into his side. It feels a little too right, maybe, how quickly Will’s arm wraps around your waist.

“You’re really good at talking to these people.” You’re talking pretty loudly, but you’re pretty sure Will is the only one that can hear you over the noise. “The second you open your mouth, people are so charmed by you. I think you could make anyone love you.”

Willy’s eyes flash to the floor, and they stay fixed there as he mumbles something that sounds a lot like another “uhm”.

His cheeks are flushed red, and you’re saved from having to deal with that as Auston appears, eyes wild and jaw tense.

“I’m being stalked,” he hisses. “This old white dude literally won’t leave me alone even for a second. He’s been following me around for an hour. Help.”

Willy bursts into giggles, which is probably not very helpful, and the betrayal on Auston’s face is enough to make you feel bad for him.

“Come on,” you say, grabbing his arm, “let’s go hide behind the bar.”

It’s easier than you thought it would be, to get through the evening. In fact, when Will asks you if you’re ready to go, you hadn’t even noticed it had become so late.

You say goodbye to the few people you know and gratefully accept Willy’s offer to drive you home.

The car ride is silent. It’s not awkward, but the air is heavy with something, and you curse yourself for all those times you wished Willy would just shut up, because now he has and you hate every second of it.

Did your compliments freak him out? Did he regret asking you to come?

“So,” Will finally says, as he stops in front of a traffic light. He’s not looking at you, keeping his gaze firmly on the road ahead of him. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Zach told me you don’t like these events,” you try, carefully. You’ve never had to pull something out of Will, force him to open up; he’s always just kinda done it, from the very moment you met him, shared parts of himself with you that you never had to search for.

For you, who’s never learned how to not keep something hidden, that was maybe the thing that unnerved you about him the most.

“I like doing things for charity,” Will answers, and you can tell he’s picking his words carefully. “But I don’t like people looking at me as if I’m some kinda disappointment who doesn’t belong there.”

“Have they ever said anything?”

“No.” Will smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and there’s a hint of sadness laced in it. “Not to my face, anyway. But I’m not stupid, you know.”

No, he’s not stupid. For all the conflicting thoughts you’ve had about him, you never thought he was stupid.

And you never thought he was a bad contract, either. It seems imperative, suddenly, that he knows that.

“Willy,” you say softly, and although his eyes are still on the road, you know he’s paying attention. “You can’t seriously believe that you’re anything but an amazing hockey player. You’re worth that contract and you’re worth the effort Dubas put into keeping you here. You’re so smart, and I know people don’t always see it but you work so hard, and Matts was so happy when you got back on his line because he knew you would be magic together.”

Will’s cheeks are red but this time, he’s not mumbling when he says: “I know I haven’t been playing as well as I can.”

“Stop,” you tell him, softly but forcefully. “Stop deflecting, stop dodging. Just take the compliment and believe me when I say you’re great at what you do.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he says, his voice a bit shaky, and that’s a different kind of deflecting but it’s still deflecting, and it’s hurting your heart.

“William Nylander,” you scold, and then you do what you’ve been wanting to do this entire evening and let yourself reach out and put a hand on his knee. “Just accept the compliment.”

Willy carefully reaches down to grab your hand, intertwines your fingers together as he lets both your hands rest on his thigh. He’s holding the steering wheel with one hand, but he’s driving pretty slowly and the roads are deserted, so you’re not too worried.

You’re more worried about the fact that he just doesn’t believe you.

“You’re a great hockey player,” you repeat, stubbornly. “And a great person.”

Finally Willy allows himself to smile, this small, rueful thing that sticks somewhere deep inside your chest, folds up next to your heart like it’s gonna stay there forever.

“Thank you,” he says, and maybe he still doesn’t really believe it but this is as far as you’re gonna get tonight and maybe that’s okay.

You’ve got time.

The car has reached your flat and Will parks it in your driveway. It’s quiet, and he hasn’t let go of your hand, and you kinda don’t want him to.

The night is over, probably.

But there’s still one thing you need to tell him, though. “It doesn’t matter, Will,” you say softly. “What those people think. It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Willy agrees, and for the first time you can tell he believes it. “But it matters what you think.”

He finally turns to look at you and there’s so many emotions swirling in the deep blue of his eyes, but you can’t really put your finger on any of them. All you know is your heart is beating in your throat, and you really want to kiss him.

But Willy still looks a little sad, and you have a feeling there’s something he’s not saying.

“I told you I think you’re great,“ you tell him, and it’s the truth.

“But you didn’t, before.” Will hesitates. “I told you I’m not stupid. I know when people find me annoying.” He shrugs. “I get it. I know I can be too much.”

And God, there’s so much hurt in that, so much pain and yet understanding, and you can tell he truly believes that, and you would do anything to take that away from him.

Anything.

So.

“I didn’t like you,” you admit, but when Will goes to pull back his hand, you simply hold on tighter. “I was wrong. I didn’t know you, and I was wrong. Now I know you. And I like you.” You inhale, pause. “I like you so much I don’t really know what to do with myself, sometimes.”

It’s quiet. You can nearly see the wheels turning in Willy’s head as he searches your face for something; something to tell him you’re not being truthful, maybe, that it doesn’t mean what he thinks it does.

If that’s what he’s looking for, he won’t find it.

Then he drops your hand, jumps out of the car and slams the door.

Disappointment and hurt washes over you; you knew you had to try, had to put your heart out there, but it hurts that it’s smashed into pieces like that. Clearly you read it wrong, clearly you still don’t know how to tell what Willy’s feeling.

Except then your door opens, and Willy is holding out his hand.

“Come on,” he says, and his voice sounds… fond? You don’t know exactly what to think about it, but he doesn’t sound angry, or upset.

Against better judgement, you grab his hand and get out of the car.

“I have to tell you something,” Will says. And, there’s no way that he’s doing what you think he’s doing, but his hands are suddenly traveling up, one reaching to cup your cheek, the other settling on your waist. His eyes are staring into yours intently, and they’re twinkling but it’s not the same mischievous twinkle you’re used to seeing.

“I really like you, too,” Willy says, and he leans in and presses his lips against yours.

For a split second, you stand there, not quite knowing what just happened, but then his hand tightens on your hip and you realize that this is real, this is happening, and Will’s kissing you.

So you kiss back. You let your body lean heavy against the car, place your hands on his biceps and pull him closer, until his chest is flush against yours. The kiss deepens, and you swear you can feel your heartbeat synching up with his.

The night is dark, and quiet, and it rains a little, but you feel none of it.

All you feel is Will, surrounding you, and everything is beautiful and exactly the way it’s supposed to be.

#happy ending except!!! is it???#william nylander #william nylander fic #nhl fic #toronto maple leafs

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strangeradventuresofp · 4 years

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dancing shoes (kuzon!aang x reader)

“You’re going to do what?” You, Katara, Sokka and Toph said in unison, looking at the arrow-headed boy in disbelief. You were hesitant about him enrolling in a Fire Nation school in the first place, but eventually, you had all came to the conclusion that it might be best for him to be hidden in plain sight. It terrified you that one single slip of his bandanna could cause a huge ruckus. And Aang, he was just a kid, wanting to have fun. This meant he wasn’t exactly always careful, and it often led him into trouble.

“I don’t know about this, Aang.” Katara nodded at her brother’s words.

“Come on, Sokka! The other kids in my class deserve to have some fun.” That stupid, cute grin found its way to his face and you sighed, still unsure.

“Sokka’s right, Aang. It would take something so little for your headband to slip and your arrow to show.” Katara touched his shoulder gently, however, the earth bender had a different opinion.

“Don’t be so boring. A dance party, are you kidding? It’ll be the most fun we’ve had in weeks!” Toph threw her arms up and everyone seemed to look to you.

“Would it be so bad?” You smiled shyly. You were a people-pleaser, so you responded as best you could without outright disagreeing with someone, although it did seem like you were taking Aang’s side. It just broke your heart that he was still so young. He never really got the opportunity to be a child. None of you in Team Avatar did. “It’ll be fun. For all of us.” Aang tied his bandanna behind his head, grinning widely at you, to which you slightly blushed.

~~~

You watched as Aang danced, surrounded by a large circle of Fire Nation children and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling. It made you happy that Aang was doing something he loved and sharing it with other people. His energy was radiant, and as you looked around the room, you couldn’t find a single person who didn’t have a smile on their face. Aang pulled various people into the dancing circle, and it wasn’t long before you found him stood in front of you, offering his hand to you.

“Aang, I.. I don’t know how to dance.”

“Sure you do! Just follow my lead.” You were unsure, but his wide grin gave you certainty that it was okay, and you gently placed your hand in his.

The two of you danced with each other. You were skeptical at first, but it took no time at all for you to feel more comfortable. The dance was elegant although it was fast. Everyone around you became a blur. You only saw Aang, the boy you had fallen in love with. Aang spun you around and finished the dance by dipping you. As you clung to him for support, you beamed at one another, feeling your cheeks burn up as you watched his turn redder. Katara and Sokka smiled at the both of you and cheered, along with everybody else who surrounded you.

The dance party lasted a couple more hours , by which you were all exhausted. The fire was lit in the middle of the cave, like normal, and you had noticed that Katara and Toph had already moved away, sleeping. Sokka yawned loudly and muttered a very tired ‘goodnight’, leaving you and Aang, alone by the fire.

“I’m gonna stay up a while, I’m not tired just yet. But you’re welcome to go to sleep when you want.”

“I’ll stay up with you! I’m totally not tired.” Aang yawned almost immediately afterwards, earning a quiet giggle from your lips. “Today was nice.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” He nodded and looked towards you. Mirroring his actions, you smiled. He visibly gulped and kissed your cheek gently. Your eyes widened and you blushed fiercely. His cheeks reddened as you began to smile. He smiled back and yawned once again. Aang shuffled around slightly before sitting beside you and resting his head on your shoulder. After falling asleep, his body fell into your lap. You smiled above him, playing gently with the tufts of brown hair that surrounded his previously bald head.

Slowly, but surely, you began to feel tired after hearing the soft snores from the boy who lay against you. You yawned and gave in to the overwhelming weight dragging down your eyelids.

~~~

You woke up before Aang, smiling down at him as you realised what at happened the night before. Gently touching your cheek, you looked up to see the others looking over at you, confused.

“Y/N, you didn’t go to bed?” Sokka questioned, which caused you to make a quiet shushing sound, while pointing to the sleeping boy. The brother and sister looked at each other, smiling, just as they had the night before.

“Hey! Get your butt up twinkletoes!”

my masterlist (requests open!)

A/N : hi hello hi heres an aang imagine because i dont just wanna keep doing sokka and zuko ones even tho everyone loves them !! i know that some people like aang too so i thought id write one for all u aang lovers out there. this was quite hard for me to write because i will always and forever ship aang and katara no matter what but anyway fr i hope you guys like this and remember requests are open!! just hmu w a message of a prompt and a character or person that you like and want an imagine for and ill be so happy to do it for you!! i might not know the fandom if its a character but ill do my research and try my hardest for u cus i love u all with all my heart stg<3 have a lovely day angels xo p

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1006

(found at xxbieberburnham)

“The rest of your life”

Are you independent or dependent? Dependent as all hell. I’ll put my foot down on very certain things, but most of the time I prefer hearing input or suggestions from people I trust. I definitely think it’s something I still have to work on because I know I’ll have to be mostly independent at some point.

If you could put your life into a category, where would it go? I feel like this would be easier to answer if you gave a list of categories. I don’t know what kind of insight you’re looking for.

How many animals do you have? I have two, but I call them pets.

Are you popular? Idk and I don’t care. All I know is I don’t actively seek to be so.

What time were you born? 9:11 in the evening.

Have you had any candy this week? Yeah, I had a gummy worm this morning. Mom bought a box of Halloween-themed sweets and there were cupcakes had gummy worms on them alongside marshmallows designed to look like a tombstone.

Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Hurricanes are terrifying, but I’m used to them. We don’t get tornadoes at all so I’ll not only be unprepared for those, but would definitely be more afraid of them too.

Do you like those nerd glasses? Sure, I still think they’re cute and look good on people but I never called them nerd glasses lol. Mine are kinda shaped like one.

Have you ever been in a fist fight? Nah, I’d be wiped out pretty fast.

What color is your house? A light shade of beige.

When was the last time you saw a rainbow? More than a year ago, I’m sure. It was during our ride back home from a journalism workshop, which if I remember correctly was all the way in Cavite. Goddamn we traveled a lot for those workshops.

Have you ever ate a crayon? I’ve never bitten off a piece but I’m not ruling out at least licking.

Ever rode in a helicopter? Nope. Would love to.

Do you like rabbits? Sure.

Do you like mushrooms? For the most part I don’t even think they taste like anything, so I never really had a problem with mushrooms.

“It’s like you step into the room and just press play”

What was the last movie you cried at? That Thing Called Tadhana. I had watched it five years ago after my first breakup; I got to go to Sagada shortly after that breakup, so that movie was actually very therapeutic for me at the time because it allowed me to release my feelings the way Mace did, also in Sagada. Now I’m stuck at home and can’t travel and that movie just hurt too much to finish.

What ice cream flavor best describes your personality? I don’t really...pair ice cream flavors with types of personalities.

Would you rather work for a small or large company? Large, because I feel like I’d be challenged more in those and thus learn more. Also it just looks nicer on resumés, if I’m being honest. Smaller companies are ok too but I prefer those that already have a rep for churning excellent results and having a good track record for workplace culture, like the company I’m currently working with.

Where's your favorite place to buy clothes? Ukays. I used to not like them, but my mom and sister did a great job reeling me in and making me see the appeal.

How many languages do you speak? Two.

What was the worst movie you've ever seen? Me Before You was such a waste of my time. Predictable, cheesy, and typical asshole-guy-softens-up-over-time-oh-and-just-as-you-start-to-root-for-him-we’re-gonna-kill-him-off. But idk, I was with friends who were into movies like those and I wanted to support them, so I went along to watch.

What video game have you played the most? Cumulatively, pretty sure it’s Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

What was your favorite TV show as a child? I was a Nickelodeon girl and Spongebob, Fairly OddParents, and My Life as a Teenage Robot were my top 3, with Jimmy Neutron closely trailing at #4. I loved Disney shows too but wasn’t really able to appreciate them as much until I got a little older and could understand their humor better.

What's your favorite sport? My answer won’t change - if it counts, pro wrestling. If it doesn’t, my next favorite is table tennis.

If you were given a brand new yacht, what would you name it? Nothing creative is coming to me at the moment.

Do you believe there’s life on other planets? Yes. Maybe not the ones in our solar system, but those out in the distant universe for sure.

What was the worst place you ever traveled to? Can’t say I’ve truly disliked a particular place we’ve been to. I will say that Chinese people have a...culture that I’m not used to, and I did not enjoy touring with a bunch of them during my cruise. They had buffet habits that I would consider unhygienic, they would sit at the same table my mom and I were eating at if there were available seats(??????? imagine if I just sat beside you at a diner while you’re having lunch?), and apparently it’s acceptable for them to actually look you in the eyes and point directly at you if they’re talking about you with other people. It was honestly a lot to put up with for six days, and the only reason I didn’t lose my temper was because my dad works in the ship and I didn’t want to cause him any trouble.

What is one thing you’re really bad at? Making art.

Do you believe in angels? No. I like referring to my grandpa as my guardian angel, but I don’t actually believe in angels.

Would you rather be a famous actor or musician? I know I’m awful at either, but I’d much rather act.

“where have you been all my life?”

If you could have invented one thing, what would it have been? It’d be cool to come up with something that ends up being widely popular and/or beneficial to society, but do it accidentally; like how popsicles came to be. Imagine building a legacy from your own oopsie lmao sounds like a pretty good deal to me.

What's your favorite exercise workout? I don’t do workouts.

What's your favorite thing to do? Wow, very straightforward. Hmm these days I’m slowly inching back to wrestling, so I’ve been watching compilations and documentaries and doing some catching-up here and there. Lately I’d say that’s my favorite thing to do, but that can always change.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? Gab and I went to Pinto and she brought me to Filio after. Then I got back home to see what Athenna had done to my room while I was out, which was to cover the floor with balloons and the walls with printed photos of Zayn Malik.

Does your local Wal Mart have benches in them to rest? First, we’ll need to have local Wal-Mart stores here.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? I never liked stuffed animals, so I didn’t even have a teddy bear.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Not fuck with the ghosts/spirits.

Are you crazy in love currently? Not crazily, but in love.

Are you good at swimming? I can tread and do several strokes, but I also tend to panic so I think that eliminates the concept of me being a good swimmer.

What's worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet. I can get around slow walkers; but unless I have mobile data, slow internet is out of my control for the most part.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? I can’t pick between whistling at me, catcalling me, lunging at me, or flirtatiously harass me in front of his friends while I was minding my goddamn business carrying a goddamn box of cake at the mall. Yeah, not a very big fan of men.

Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Out.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? Put on a YouTube video and let autoplay take over.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? Yeah I used to, until I lost it.

Ae you afraid that one day you might get cancer? The fear of the possibility is there, but it’s not predominantly in our family history and so I’m more afraid of other issues I have a higher chance of getting, like high blood pressure.

“Letters to Juliet”

Are you a fast or slow walker? Fast if I’m running errands, slow-ish if I’m out for leisure.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? No.

Does it bother you when people's underwear hangs out? Kinda. Even more when their crack decides to show up too.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? No, I am one of the last people in line when it comes to that.

When's your birthday? April 21st.

Do you own a bobble-head toy? Nopes.

What color was the towel you used to dry off with today after a shower? Turquoise.

Has anyone ever walked you home? I’ve had someone drive me home. Walking isn’t really applicable here.

Have you ever liked someone and they were taken? That’s never happened to me.

When was the last time you went fishing? In my past life, maybe.

True or false: You've read the book Lord of the Flies? False.

Have you heard of the band Yellowcard? Yes.

Have you ever seen the show Teen Wolf? I’ve seen an episode and oh my god it was so boring.

Do you have any quotes, lyrics etc on your walls? I used to until my mom took it down while I was in school. I made it myself, so it stung.

Are you a fan of Star Wars? No.

“Our parents never let us cross the street, but we did it anyway”

Has anyone ever told you that you have nice hair? Whenever it was actually nice, yeah. It was never my best feature though.

What brand of camera do you own? I have...an iPhone, if it counts, ha. My old DSLR was a Nikon.

Is there something you're not looking forward to? The next day. Having to go through rounds of anxiety is not enjoyable.

Have you ever read the book Thirteen Reasons Why? Have not read the book nor seen the show, but have read enough of the premise to know I am not a fan.

Do you wear white pants? Sure, I have a pair of white jeans that I absolutely love.

When was the last time you were really angry? Yesterday. My sister and I were ordering KFC from a food delivery app and no driver was taking it because drivers in that company are notoriously picky bitches about their destinations. They kept canceling our orders and at some point I had enough and proposed that we just get Pizza Hut, this time straight from the Pizza Hut website, which has always worked out for us before. So Pizza Hut confirms the order, calls me up and says the ETA, so far so good. Around 15 minutes later the doorbell rings and it’s...KFC? With our original orders? Apparently that stupid ass app took our order anyway after repeatedly canceling it, and I never got one fucking notification that our order was received. Tried to cancel Pizza Hut but they said they had already started making the pizzas, so in the end we had to pay for both meals. I had never been so angry.

Have you ever made a 3 pointer in a basketball game? Hah, of course not. I’ve barely made one of those free throws that are worth one point.

Do you think you look better with your hair up or down? I’ve gotten more compliments whenever it’s up, so that must look better on me even if I personally don’t necessarily agree.

Do you warm up before you hardcore exercise? I don’t exercise, but isn’t warming up recommended anyway?

Do you want a pair of Converse shoes? Not really; I suppose they’re alright. It’s not my favorite brand in the world, but I wouldn’t turn down a free pair either.

Are you more of a studs or hoops type of person when it comes to earrings? Hoooooooooops for days.

How many shirts do you have of your favorite band? Just one. I’m not a band shirt person.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? There’s no TV in this room.

Have you ever wore a tie before? Yeah, as a kid my mom sometimes made me wear neckties. They made me SO uncomfortable I was having internal breakdowns about being seen in public. I was 7 years old. Neckties to me were a boy thing and I felt 0% boy; and so it gave me such serious dysphoria. It’s like making a boy wear a pink tutu even if he’s already visibly distressed. Whenever I told my mom I felt uncomfortable, she would just tell me it “looks good.” Jesus Christ. Why did no one ever drag my mom to a parenting seminar? Did no one seriously see the signs???

What did you have for breakfast this morning? Garlic rice, bacon strips, and glazed ham.

“For the Krusty Krab”

Are you good at art? Of course not.

How many times have you read your favorite book? I don’t have one.

Name one thing that you really hate. Raisins, on their own and incorporated in a dish.

Have you ever tried walking on stilts? I haven’t.

Is there a war that you find interesting? Eh, not really. So many of historical accounts are bombarded with war narratives as it is, and I’ve just never really found disputes or tensions among countries to be the most interesting part about history. Plus women were mostly absent, and that makes it even more boring.

Would you rather live in the city or country? City.

Do you think $7 is too much for a movie ticket? Not always. $7 or ₱350 is actually pretty reasonable if you wanna see a movie at an upscale mall; people who watch movies in places like that shouldn’t be complaining about movie tickets that cost that much. But all movie theaters are the same anyway - pitch black, freezing, comfy chairs - so I just go to midscale malls where tickets would be like a hundred bucks cheaper since it’s gonna give me the same experience anyway.

Would you like to be a newscast person? For a long time I thought I wanted to be one because that’s what my entire family was rooting me to become. Eventually I realized reading from a teleprompter, interviewing guests, and asking questions to reporters is not a career I want.

Do you like word searches, coloring or crosswords better? Word searches, then coloring, then crosswords.

Close your eyes and press a random key on the keyboard. U.

How many William’s do you know? I don’t think I know anyone. It’s too foreign-sounding a name.

What time did you wake up this morning? I woke up at around 6 AM, but I fell back asleep immediately and woke up again around 30 minutes later.

Do you enjoy crutches? ...No? That seems a little insensitive for people who actually need them.

What's better: Snapple or Arizona tea? Arizona. It’s because I’ve never had the Snapple one, but tbh Arizona is already pretty delicious anyway.

Make a word out of the word: Dinosaur. Round.

“she said I love this song, I’ve heard it before”

When you were younger, did you play with legos? Yes. I was never a creative kid, but I liked playing with them anyway.

Do you like Trix cereal? It was only my absolute favorite cereal as a kid, no biggie.

Do you get nervous easily? Ugh, yes. My parents asked me to get water containers from our local water station last Saturday and I literally had to allot like two hours to brace myself and make a script in my head. I constantly rehearse shit nearly every time I have to go out of the house.

How long is your Facebook password? I’m not sharing that.

Do you like the movie Mean Girls? No, I didn’t find it funny the first time and that made me uninterested in giving it a second chance.

How do you want your wedding to be? Big, grand. Lots of friends, lots of food. Not Catholic/Christian.

Have you seen the movie or show Catfish? Nope.

Do you hate it when you arrive to something early? Not usually. Being early is my goal in most situations, unless I’m headed to like a party.

Have you ever been on Omegle? A few times as a teenager.

Are you still in love with one of your exes? Yes. It’s not going away for a while.

Do you think it's attractive when guys wear beanies? I don’t necessarily seek out men with beanies lol but I don’t think it looks bad on them either.

What's something that makes you feel shy in public? Unfamiliar situations.

Do you like the shows on MTV? No.

If you could go back and relive one day, what day? That last Friday I was in school before the lockdown happened. If I knew what the next eight months were going to look like, I would’ve stayed much longer in school, dragged my friends out to drink, blew my money on food, had more fun basically.

What's one word you hate to be called? Exhausting. Like being told I’m exhausting to be with. How does that not hurt?

#survey #surveys

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rainey-staerie-daize · 3 years

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So far, this’s been a weird bad week.

On Sunday, I awoke to cinnamon rolls, strawberries, and bagels, which is unusual in our household. We usually have cereal, but I was fine with this change. I love cinnamon rolls. I thought this was gonna be the only oddity of that day, but I was wrong.

Skye said she was gonna stay home during the littles’ visit, so I got hopeful that I could have a heart-to-heart with Mom about the previous week in the car, but she ended up coming with because I was and she didn’t want to be home alone. And then, Kare was with us too, because she didn’t want to go, so we had her with us for two hours. But, oh! Not two hours, but one, because without Kare, Xan only wanted to spend one hour with their dad.

So, instead of maybe stopping at the store or something, and counting off all the reasons I’ve been upset with my mother, we took a drive for an hour with my sisters. For the first time ever, I turned the other way in the car, hoping Mom got the hint that something was up. After a while of silence, she asked Kare how she was doing, as she usually does when it’s been silent for a while, and then asked me the same thing a minute later. I gave a noncommittal hum, not wanting to talk in that moment with almost everyone in the car.

Before picking up Xan, she went through the Starbucks drive-through to get us each something, so I turned the right way to be able to drink my matcha pineapple drink, but I was still not very happy. Refreshers and fraps can’t fix the hole in my heart where love should go.

After getting Xan, we went to Ross for a new outfit or two each because it’s getting hot out here and Mom has stimulus money right now. I usually love shopping, but considering that I was already upset, Mom previously promised an individual “date” day with each of us for this, I didn’t have my glasses or phone that day, and I like to take my time, I wasn’t having a good time. I found cute items that were too small for me, and couldn’t take pics because I didn’t bring my phone, and I was the last one of the family to be perusing the racks. I HATE to be the one everyone’s waiting on.

And then to top it all off, Mom complained in the car that she “spent way too much money.” I already have a nagging guilt in my subconscious soul whenever I’ve been done shopping the last few times, even when spending my own money. I really didn’t need to hear that I’m actually being a burden on someone, either time-wise or financially.

Holy shit, I need to take a minute.

Anyway, we came home, and everyone went straight to trying everything on. Which makes me anxious, because we just got these clothes, and Mom usually wipes things down or washes them before we use them. Wondered for a few if I was being paranoid, before concluding that I’m not and Mom’s just slipping at this game.

Then Mom started talking about chores we need to get done, and that the garage is getting cleaned out today. Now, she’s said this a lot, so I never know when she’s actually gonna get serious, but apparently, she actually meant it.

I like to clean by myself, preferably when everyone’s asleep or gone, because I know damn well I take to long, and I don’t want the ridicule. Big problem with that is the fact that the anxiety from the possible judgement keeps me from actually starting, so I end up never starting and it never gets done. And Mom was is sick of my shit. Many of the boxes and bags of laundry in the garage are mine.

So, as I was sitting in the kitchen trying to enjoy the ice cream Mom said we could all have, I was trying not to panic when Skye was going through the garage for stuff to bring in and go through. Mom mentioned that she was gonna “force inspiration to clean” onto me, and I told her that’s not how that works.”

Luckily, she found a couple bags of toys to go through first, and I sat and watched, trying to relax so I’d stop feeling sick to my stomach. I’m trying not to feel sick as I type this all, but I gotta let my feelings out somewhere.

Eventually, she brought in a bag of my stuff. I looked at a couple items, and determined it was a bag I’d already gone through a few months ago. It was only in the garage again because I hadn’t washed and put it away yet. So far, so good. Another bag, and I was able to throw some things away without any second guessing. Eventually, I didn’t feel so sick anymore, and was in productive mode.

At some point, Skye asked if she should bring in something that wasn’t clothes, and I explained quietly that I’ve had enough mentally. “Please don’t make me switch tasks right now.” I’m so glad, that at age 20, I know I’m autistic, read up on it a ton, and now have the tools I need to communicate what’s going on in my head.

Skye understood, and brought in more clothes. I’m also so glad to have her as a sister. Mom would’ve seen it as making excuses, which is why I tried not to be loud enough for her to hear. I was in a zone, doing what she wanted (and I needed) for once, and I didn’t need her to break it by yelling.

I set aside the things that weren’t mine to go through, and I got it done. Since I still had quite a lot, I decided to go through everything more selectively at another time, on my own time. We’ll see how that goes.

Had dinner, and I didn’t feel like eating as much as I usually do, and said this to Mom. Told her about how the day went nothing like how I’d planned, and she seemed to finally recognise some depression in me, and offered to have that talk I wanted that night or the next day. After dinner, I chilled for a while with the Gravity Falls tag (pretty sure y’all’ve noticed) in the bathroom, because it’s the one private room of the house and I wanted to be alone, and when I came out, everyone was sleeping and Mom was cleaning. She was spraying everything with Febreze, and then vacuumed after a few, and told me to check my slippers to see if they’re dirty before walking on the carpets. I find this a bit absurd, seeing as how Mom is the one who gets the floors dirty with her shoes (FR, she’s the only one of us that leaves visible shoe prints inside), and I wear slippers specifically so I don’t have to keep washing my feet all the damn time. But not wanting an argument, I complied, and took off my slippers to sit at the desk with the laptop.

The plan was to finally catch up on my school work, but after Mom got on me about the dog being neglected, I simply didn’t have the spoons, and looked up pics of Ford’s futuristic gun. Eventually started reading Gravity Falls: Lost Legends on the purple game phone. Not very productive, I know, but I knew I didn’t have actual class the next day, and I’m normally very responsible with the dog. I’ve only been neglecting her as a bit of a social experiment to see if anybody would notice that the one person who cares for her hasn’t been. Don’t worry, I gave her food and water after a while, but I left the red blanket covered in Kare’s piss over the crate, because if Mom thinks she knows best and wants to put a dirty-ass blanket over the crate, who am I to remove it?

Fucking bitch.

Anyway, after she went to sleep, the living room felt like the Twilight Zone. It had the vibe of being freshly steam-cleaned, despite not being cleaned at all, I felt like I couldn’t lay down anywhere because dirty laundry had touched my leg earlier and I didn’t feel like showering yet, and everyone was asleep but me. Two or three lights were on but I shut them off to help calm my mind a bit. Worked a bit, and I continued reading until the next morning. I heard Mom’s alarm for Xan’s school day start going off, and not wanting to interact with her, I laid down to sleep, letting fate decide if she gets up on time or not. Skye says she didn’t, and Xan ended up not going to school. Oh well. Not my problem.

Oy, she would think I’m such a selfish bitch if she read that, but I honestly don’t care. I half hope she stumbles across this blog just so she finally knows what I’m thinking all the damn time. Stars know that we never did have that talk. In fact, when I made a comment before she went to sleep on Sunday that I’m aweful at this whole “being a human thing,” she accused me of just trying to get sympathy, and “stop the whole ‘woe is me’ bullshit.”

Oy, so I’m amazing, I guess? What do you want me to say? Nothing?? I mean, I guess that’s correct. I would finally stop bugging her with my too-loud voice. I try to moderate my volume, I really do, but sometimes I forget, or I’m being louder than I think I am.

Yesterday, I slept a lot of the day, woke up to take an exam, and came out of my room to find all but one piece of the pineapple Mom got gone. Not only did everyone save me only a single cube, it was so sweet and good, and I’m not sure I did so well on my exam. Mom said the littles’ scarfed it all down in minutes, and that it wasn’t even that good because the enzymes burned their tongues, but I don’t feel bad for them. They wouldn’t have gotten burned so bad if they had saved some for Skye and I. She was still sleeping at the time. I also spotted the only pineapple juice in Kare’s Starbucks cup from the day before, but when I took a sip (because she often wastes food, she won’t miss it), I discovered it was watered down. Ugh.

That night, last night, as I stayed up late reading fan-made Gravity Falls comics, I tried to stay as silent as possible. My laughter is often loud, and I was finally having a good time. I didn’t need Mom waking up to scold me with the whole “I work graveyard, and I just got vaccinated! Why can’t I ever sleep?!”

I think I did a pretty great job of staying quiet for once, but at some point, she called my name, which startled me a bit. I went to her room to see what was up, but after I called back and got no response, I determined that she just called my name in her sleep. Whew.

And now, I’m sitting at the kitchen table, typing away, still being silent. I’ll have a good time with Skye when Mom’s not around. Mom doesn’t deserve to hear my laughter anymore if she doesn’t want it so bad. She was watching late-night comedy when I was typing the first part of this post, but at some point, she got up, and I quickly-but-casually switched tabs to the music I was listening to to read the comments until she left from behind me again. I do want to talk about all of this with her eventually, but I really don’t tonight, and she sometimes reads over my shoulder if it’s easy for her to do so.

I hope she’s getting ready for work right now, and she won’t be able to get an Early Out. I’d love for the anxiety of her randomly crashing my vibes to be gone. Maybe (but probably not) I’ll clean, maybe I’ll read some more in the dark. Don’t know yet.

#hopes and dreams crash and burn #you may hope there's a phoenix somewhere #but there's likely not #they're dead #Raine's daize #I wonder how many of y'all can relate to any of this #anxiety #autism

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nalgenewhore · 4 years

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holiday surprise

howdy y’all! merry christmas and happy holidays from your fave chaotic fae entity <3 just wanted to leave this lil giftie poo for you before i go back on hiatus!

“Ok, so you’re still coming to our place for dinner and you’re staying with me and Rowan, right?”

“Um, Ace, there’s something I wanted to ask you, just before I drive up.” She bit her fingernail, eyes locked on her boyfriend where he was asleep in her bed, sprawled across the mattress, the sheets pooling around his waist, his chest and arms marked with dark ink. “Nothing big.” Lorcan shifted onto his side, his eyes cracking open. She savoured the scrunched up look that came over his face as he stretched and his eyes, glazed from sleep, landed on her, seated on the large windowsill.

Elide smiled at him and stood from her perch in favour of sitting cross-legged next to his head, delighting in the way he shifted to rest his head in her lap, his arms wrapping around her waist. She grinned down at him and ran her free hand through his thick hair, the strands silky smooth between her fingers.

“ELIDE!”

They both jumped at Aelin’s voice coming through the phone, “Shit, sorry, I got distracted, what’d you say?” She bent down to kiss his head, feeling him smile into the skin of her inner thigh.

“What did you want to ask?”

She breathed evenly, steeling herself for the barrage of questions that would no doubt come after her next words. “Can I bring the person I’ve been seeing?”

Her cousin, more like a sister to her, a very intrusive older sister, gasped, “What! Who? When? Why didn’t you tell me! What’s their name, whatwhatwhat?! You cannot do this to me, Ellie!”

“Can they stay with me?”

“Yes, of course, but who?”

“Let’s just say,” Elide smacked Lorcan’s shoulder when he started pressing heated kisses to her skin, slowly inching his way up. He exclaimed softly and looked up at her, grinning wickedly when she mouthed Stop, I’m on the phone! He did no such thing and she tried to quickly finish her call, “They are not your favourite person on this world and you have definitely threatened them with grievous bodily harm if they so much as look at me. I h-hate to cut this short but I really, really need to g-oh.”

“Elide. If it’s who I’m thinking of, I will mur-” It definitely was but Aelin didn’t need to know that now.

“Anneith, it’s not, seriously, ew,” she lied but to her credit, this was a rather broad category for Aelin. She bit her lip to stop from crying out when Lorcan bit her gently at the jape. “I really need to go-oh n-now,” Elide tightened her grip in his hair, pulling on it as she said goodbye, as he slid his fingers into her core, “We’ll see you tonight, y-yeah?”

“Ok, yeah, see you tonight, I love you, El.”

“Ah. Love you too, Ace.”

She hung up and threw her phone onto the thick, fluffy carpet. She fell onto her back, her other hand sliding into his hair as he slipped her legs over his shoulders, his hands curling around her thighs, and looked up at her. “We have two hours before we need to leave.”

Elide grinned, “Let’s make the most of it, then.”

“El, baby,” she was drawn out of her slumber by a soft voice. “We’re here.”

She jumped, nearly slapping Lorcan across the face, “Shit, fuck me!” She looked around bewildered at the snow-covered forest on either side of the highway. Elide turned to Lorcan who was laughing as he kept his eyes trained on the road in front of them. She hit his shoulder, “You asshole, why’d you do that!”

“You told me to wake you up before we got there,” he responded, barely hiding his grin.

“You really are just as evil as Aelin says, you know.”

“Oh, fuck! Queen Galathynius called me evil, whatever shall I do now?” He rolled his eyes slightly, his jaw clenching just a bit. “I haven’t cared about her opinion for nearly a decade, that will not change even if we’re dating, Elide.”

Elide leaned over the centre console, resting her chin on his bicep and fluttering her lashes, “Can you at least try to be civil? For me, please?”

He flicked his eyes down to her and dropped his head to kiss her sweetly, “I’ll try but I make no promises.” She knew that this was the best she could get out of both of them and smiled against his lips, kissing him back before she settled back into her seat, pulling out her phone. “Whatcha doing?

“Texting your favourite person in the whole entire world,” she teased, typing a message out. He shook his head and turned back to the highway, sighing as they passed a kilometre sign, the sign telling him he had just under two hours of driving left.

>>>Ae

<<<yes?

>>>can you please please please promise me that you will be civil to them? if you guys fight the entire time, i swear, i’ll cry fr

<<<you’re really scaring me, who are they?

>>>it doesn’t matter.

>>>they already said they’d try so now it’s up to you

Aelin didn’t answer and Elide knew exactly what she had to say to guilt her sister into agreeing.

>>>do you really want to be the reason yulemas was ruined cause you couldn’t be adult enough for it?

<<<oh that is low, mala that’s borderline evil, fine, i’ll be civil

<<<are you guys almost here?

>>>yes mama and don’t worry they’re driving the speed limit

<<<good that’s my baby they’re with

<<<i miss you so much

>>>i miss you so much i’ll see you so soon less than two hours away!!

With that settled, Elide turned her phone off and dropped it into her bag, turning to look at Lorcan. “It’s settled, she’ll be civil, she promised.” She beamed at him and was rewarded with a pained grin, more like a grimace than anything else. “Come on, it won’t be that bad!”

Her phone made a noise and she fished it out, opening to read the text Aelin had sent her.

<<<salvaterre isn’t coming this year

<<<ro said he’s spending the holiday with his girlfriend and her family

<<<who’s the girl?

<<<i asked ro and fen and everyone but they said you know the most

“I redact my last statement, L. She’s gonna kill me.”

“Ready?”

“Is anyone ever ready for the full wrath of Aelin?” Lorcan questioned as they walked up the pathway to Aelin and Rowan’s townhouse. Elide stopped and tugged on his hand with both of hers until he turned back and cupped her face, “Lochan, I promise, it’ll be fine.” He leaned down to press a reassuring kiss to her lips, murmuring against them, “It’ll be fine.”

She nodded and smiled, though it was muted. They walked up the steps, Elide squeezing his hand before she knocked on the door, heart in her throat.

It was Aelin who opened the door, the smile on her face fading as she took in the two of them standing there. “What the fuck.”

“Happy Yulemas to you too, Aelin,” quipped Lorcan, smirking at her. Elide hit his shoulder, Stop being an ass. He shrugged apologetically and turned back to Aelin, stiffening only enough that Elide and Rowan could notice.

The blonde remembered herself and hugged Elide, whispering fiercely, “Elide, what is happening?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

Rowan appeared behind Aelin and smiled easily, eyes darting between the three of them as he let them in, “Hey, guys, glad you could make it. How was the drive?” He asked as he hugged Lorcan, the brothers having some sort of secret exchange.

“It was good, the road was a bit sketch ‘bout an hour north of Perranth but good otherwise,” replied Lorcan as he shrugged out of his coat and hung it in the hall closet. He took Elide’s coat and smiled at her, a real smile. She returned it, rolling her eyes when Aelin gripped her hand.

“I need her in the kitchen, this baking stuff, I just don’t get it,” she explained to which everyone scoffed at. Aelin was the head pastry chef at an acclaimed restaurant downtown and had won awards for her work.

Lysandra and Nehemia joined them in the kitchen, Fenrys already seated on the counter. He hopped down to envelope her in a warm hug, “Ellie, finally, it’s so boring here, I need some drama!”

Nehemia smacked his shoulder, glaring at her boyfriend, “Fen, stop being a dick, come on.” He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before walking out.

“What the fuck is happening?” Exclaimed Aelin, her arms flying out. “Can someone explain this to me!” She glared at Elide who glared right back.

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” She stated, crossing her arms. “I’m dating him, what more is there to say?”

“You told me you weren-”

“Ah, I never said that, I never said I wasn’t dating him.”

Aelin frowned, “You said ‘Anneith, it’s not, seriously, ew’ when I said ‘If it’s who I’m thinking of, I will murder him’.”

Elide spread her hands, grinning wickedly, “In my defence, Lorcan is not the only person who you’ve threatened with violence if they look at me so….”

Lysandra and Nehemia laughed, the green-eyed woman agreeing, “She’s right, Ace. And it’s not like they tried to hide it, we all figured it out in the first month.”

Aelin froze, turning her electric eyes on Elide. “Who else knew?”

Elide shrugged and hopped onto the counter, “I dunno. Lys, Mia, Nes, Borte, Fen, Ro, Aedion, Manon, a bunch of people.”

“And how long have they known?”

“Oh, gods, ages, an eternity, Wyrd, so long!” Nehemia said, smiling sweetly. “Just kidding, Ae, don’t pop that vein in your forehead, now, they’ve only been dating, what, five months?”

The guys walked into the kitchen, Lorcan walking over to Elide. “Six months, Mia, Summer Solstice.”

The golden jewelry in her hair clinked as she nodded to Lorcan, “Thank you, I knew that wasn’t quite right.”

Aelin dropped her head into her hands, cursing every god she knew. They laughed and Rowan hugged her, “It’s not that bad, Fireheart.” He tilted her chin up and pressed his lips to hers causing all their friends to exclaim in disgust when it turned into something more.

Aedion was the first to protest, “Are you guys serious? What the fuck, there is something wrong with you.” His lip was curled in disgust as he looked away, using Borte’s hand to cover his eyes, the two friends thoroughly sickened.

“Hellas below, take me now, take me now, I’m ready, please,” said Lorcan, burying his face in Elide’s shoulder. “I think I’m gonna throw up, seriously, I do not feel well.”

“Wyrd, save me,” commented Nehemia, raising her glass to hide behind it, Fenrys ducking behind her.

Lysandra gagged and turned to Nesryn, screwing her eyes shut, “Can someone gouge my eyes out, now please? I never want to see ever again.”

“Is it safe now?” Asked Borte from behind Aedion, the petite woman easily hiding behind her extremely bulky friend.

Elide peeked around Lorcan and made a sound of disgust, “No and I’m pretty sure that is not food safe.” She closed her eyes, feeling Lorcan laugh onto her shoulder. She looked up again, “Ok, come on, guys, even for you, this is excessive!”

Aelin and Rowan broke apart, laughing and smiling as they all walked into the living room to begin their little mismatched family’s Yulemas traditions.

Everyone was all smiles and happy faces as they listened to holiday songs and eventually, ate quickly before returning to their masterpiece.

Then, after what seemed like hours and hours of work, they shut all the lights off and sat down, watching the pine tree light up, all of their carefully placed decorations glittering in the warm light.

Everyone clapped lightly and settled in to welcome Yulemas with their yearly watching of the Home Alone movies, only the first two as they all collectively ignored the movies number three through five. They all threw popcorn at the screen when Donald Trump appeared, yelling obscenities and cursing him in ancient languages that had them bursting into hysterical laughter.

Elide was tugged onto the couch, falling back into the chest of Lorcan. She tilted her head back on his shoulder and waited until he looked down at her, a question in his dark eyes. “What?”

“Happy Yulemas, Salvaterre.” His questioning expression turned into something soft, something he only ever looked like around her.

“Happy Yulemas, Lochan.”

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