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emetoandotherthings · 9 months

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The Teachers' Curse

A/N: Honestly this is the first thing I've written in so so so long.. I don't really even know where it came from but 🤷‍♀️ Also apologies cause there's a lot of build up, but suck it if you don't like it. Just cause they're so wonderful I'm dedicating this to @lickstynine and @its-a-goddamn-heartbreak

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The teachers’ curse. That’s what they’d all joked about in uni. The last week of term and the first week of the holidays – rule them out because with everything that needed done, you’d be exhausted and every bug, virus and eager bacteria comes after you. Jude had laughed about it with all the rest, until his probationary year began.

After 8 weeks, October had brought a tired, run down feeling; December heralded a cold – but then, who didn’t get a cold in December? Jude was beginning to think that it was a whole load of rubbish, until he had to content with a 13 week term, coinciding with a pedagogical enquiry and a final profile to prove that he was actually good enough to be a teacher.

With only 7 school days to go until the Easter holidays, Jude woke up with conjunctivitis – all scratchy and inflamed. He’d ended up with drops that Eden almost had to pin him down to put in, and forced to wear his glasses for the entire week.

With 5 days left, a throbbing incessant pain in his ear had made itself known as his class worked with the percussion music specialist. The rest of the day, he’d felt like someone was trying to sharpen a pencil inside his ear canal. By 3pm, the glands in his neck had blown up and swallowing was a challenge. Eden had dragged him to the emergency out of hours doctor and the result was a 3 day course of antibiotics. Jude tried to laugh it off as just one of those things, but secretly he wondered whether it was the teacher’s curse creeping up on him. At least he’d be finished the antibiotics by Friday and would be able to have a drink in the evening when the holidays arrived.

The thrumming had faded to a stop over the next few days, along with the sandpaper scratch in his throat and the only thing that lingered was a tiredness that made it almost impossible to drag himself out of bed on Friday morning.

“Last day!” Eden’s voice was far too cheery for so early in the morning.

“Thank the Lord…” Jude sighed, rubbing both hands over his face as he placed both feet firmly on the carpet. Eden was packing books the size of paving slabs into his backpack.

“I’m in lab today,” he explained, as Jude dragged a shirt over his shoulders. “I’ll try to be back for you getting home – first evening of the holidays!”

“I am very much looking forward to being back in bed…” It was just 6 hours – then he’d be done, he’d have some downtime. It’s not that he didn’t love teaching – he did! He loved the kids, hearing their stories, seeing their learning click into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle… but anyone who claimed working with children was easy definitely hadn’t spent time with 30 at once.

Last days were a grand waste of time. For start, nearly one quarter of his class were absent; the rest were as mad as a box of frogs – unable to settle to anything for longer than five minutes. Jude was only glad that it stayed dry so the afternoon was filled with spare part outdoor learning; an activity which required supervision, but not a great deal of teaching or attention. He was only too pleased when the bell to end the day rang, and he could wave goodbye to his learned for the next two weeks. Jude had sat at his desk for nearly 10 whole minutes just willing himself to move before he geared himself up to go home.

He was determined to only make one trip from his car to the flat, so he clambered up the stairs with three bags trying to pull his arms from his sockets. He was struggling to get the keys from his pocket when the front door swung open from the inside.

“Jude!” Eden looked scandalised at the number of bags his boyfriend was carrying; he swooped forwards and grabbed some of them.

“Eden…” He hadn’t expected him to be home. “I thought you’d still be in labs.”

“It’s your first evening of the holidays!” Eden strained under the weight of the tote bags. “I wanted to spend some time with you.”

“I’m not sure I’ll be that great company,” Jude answered, dumping the last of his bags into their hallway.

“Oh shush,” Eden said, disappearing into their kitchen. “I was more thinking…” His voice continued from the kitchen and he re-appeared at the doorframe, two beers clutched in his hand. “A drink, a takeaway and some Netflix… No lesson plans, no profile – just relaxing.” Eden was holding out the bottle of beer, a quarter of lime squeezed into its neck.

“Sometimes you’re the most beautiful thing on the planet,” Jude couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face, accepting the beer bottle.

“Only sometimes?” Eden’s eyebrows disappeared up under his fringe.

“Always,” Jude sighed. “Sorry…” Eden grabbed Jude’s free hand and dragged him into the living room; he’d brought several blankets and pillows into the room. “Oh, Eden…”

“I thought we could make a bit of a nest,” Eden suggested, “food, drinks, not having to move…”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Jude mused as Eden pulled him to the sofa, noticing that Eden’s cheeks had flushed pink. “Thank you.”

Jude had barely drunk half of his beer before he dozed off, his head lolling backwards against the sofa and the beer bottle tipping forward precariously. Eden gently extricated it from Jude’s hands and let him sleep – he needed it.

Jude’s head was heavy as he woke up, he felt sluggish and groggy; he opened his eyes and stretched. Eden was curled next to him, a book in his lap.

“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his hands across his face. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About an hour and a half,” he put his book on the arm of the sofa and stretched his arm around Jude’s shoulder. Jude loved how well he fit into the crook of Eden’s shoulder. “I ordered food, it’ll be here soon.”

“You’re an angel,” Jude said; he was so tired he didn’t feel like eating, but he would – if only to make Eden happy. He grabbed his beer from the table and took a swig, it didn’t taste as good lukewarm, but that was his fault for falling asleep.

“Food’s here,” Eden announced, his phone buzzing to let him know the delivery driver was at the door. “Do you want another beer?”

“Why not?” Jude shrugged, he felt bad – Eden was doing so much for him, yet he couldn’t help but feel the only thing he wanted to do was crawl into bed. He tried to waken himself up a bit, sitting up straighter and stretching his arms above his head.

“Here you go,” Eden reappeared, carrying some pizza boxes and more beers. He set down one of the boxes in Jude’s lap before settling beside him.

“Aaw, you even got pineapple on mine!” Jude smiled as he opened the lid of his box.

“I thought I could allow for your transgression just this once,” Eden opened his own pizza. “I’m starving, I don’t know what it is about labs that always makes me so hungry.” He pulled a slice of his pizza up and devoured it hungrily. “Oh, and I’ve got cookie dough for afters.”

“You’re amazing,” Jude grinned, though even the muscles of his cheeks felt tired.

“Come on,” Eden nodded towards Jude’s pizza. “Tuck in.”

Jude managed three quarters of his pizza before he felt the strain of his waistband against his stomach. He wanted more, it tasted so good and he felt more awake than he had since he got home. He swigged more of his beer as he rested the pizza box on the table and leaned back into the pillows and blankets surrounding it.

“Man, I’ve got a food baby,” he rubbed his hand over his stomach.

“Me too,” Eden replied. He’d finished all of his own pizza and had curled his arm around Jude’s shoulder again.

“Shut up!” Jude joked, scanning up and down Eden’s slim frame. “I don’t know where you put it!”

“I dunno,” Eden shrugged, “perks of having a fast metabolism.”

“If only!”

“You’re perfect just as you are,” Eden said; and then they were kissing. It was warm and soft, and Jude loved the way they fit together, as though they’d been made that way. When they split, Jude stayed closed to Eden, he felt like home. “Right,” Eden spoke after a while, “let’s put something on to watch, you choose.” He handed across the remote.

“Anything?” Jude asked.

“Anything you want,” Eden smiled.

Jude’s eyes were drooping, even though he was the one who’d chosen the drama they were both watching. He’d finished off his beer but now his mouth was feeling oddly dry; his waistband was still digging into his stomach and that discomfort was beginning to radiate deeper than his skin. He could get up and change, but that felt like too much of an effort.

Yet as the time ticked by, and the first episode turned into the second, Jude’s attention was even less on the tv and much more on how the discomfort from his waistband had turned into a weird bubbly ache in the pit of his belly. It felt rather like the time he’d gone sailing and despite the calm water his insides had been sloshing around with every moment. A cold, goosebump sensation kept cropping up on his exposed arms. He tried to shuffle himself on the sofa, wanting to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but the movement only served to make him feel worse. He slid the empty beer bottle in between the arm of the sofa and cushion and rested his now free hand onto his belly. It felt soft underneath his hand, but he could still feel the bugle of his full stomach. He took a few deep breaths and tried to surreptitiously move the waistband of his trousers, hoping that would give him some relief.

It didn’t. In fact, it got worse. From the slightly sloshy, swishy feeling, it progressed into a more churning sensation – like his stomach had been set to spin cycle. He slowly tried to massage his fingers into his flesh, but the ache gurgled and deepened. Jude thought he’d done a good job of hiding it, until Eden raised his eyebrows and fixed him with a strange look.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his hand straying towards the remote.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jude lied, but with one look he could tell Eden knew he was lying. “I dunno, I guess, I feel a bit… queasy.” Almost as soon as he said it, his stomach burbled under his hand. “I’m probably just tired.” He wanted to pass it off as nothing, but the discomfort was growing with every passing second. Eden grabbed the remote and paused the tv, he sat up straighter and seemed to survey Jude. Then he stretched out his hand and pressed it against Jude’s forehead.

“You don’t feel warm,” he said quietly, frowning slightly. “Hang on…” Eden hoisted himself from the sofa and padded across to the main light; Jude blinked as the light turned on. “You’re a bit pale,” he commented, “maybe we should have an early night?”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Jude asked quickly. “It’s just, you’ve gone to such an effort…”

“Jude, if bed is where you need to be, then I’m happy to be there with you,” Eden answered, sounding so genuine that Jude could have cried. “And we can have cookie dough for breakfast.”

“Thank you,” he said, sighing.

“Come on then,” Eden crossed to the tv and switched it off, before turning off the lamps one by one. Jude shuffled forwards to the edge of the sofa, but as he moved a rush of heat swept across his body and his stomach twisted in such an uncomfortable manner that he froze where he was perched. He took deep steadying breaths, not liking the sudden shift. “Jude?”

“H-ulp!” The hiccup burst from his lips before he could stop it, and he couldn’t stop the groan that followed or the way his hand had gone to his stomach.

“Jude?” There was a sense of urgency in Eden’s voice now; he’d crossed the room in a few strides and was kneeling to the side of him, his hand resting on Jude’s knee. “Jude?”

“Oh god…” Jude groaned. “I don’t feel well Ede…”

“What’s wrong? Tell me,” Eden’s voice was a comfort, but the spin cycle in his belly seemed to have reached terminal velocity.

“My – my stomach,” Jude muttered, trying hard not to open his mouth too wide.

“D’you feel sick?” Eden asked. “Shall I get a bucket?” Jude squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling and exhaling through his nose.

“Mmmn, no,” Jude shook his head slightly. “Jus’ give me a minute, I’ll be fine.” But nothing felt further from the truth, the sweeps of cold and hot alternating with rapidity.

“Are you sure?” Eden didn’t sound sure at all, but he squeezed Jude’s knee gently. Jude didn’t reply, he was far too busy willing his stomach to stop clenching in such a disconcerting way. He didn’t know how long he’d spent just trying to breathe, until he felt hot liquid creeping up the back of his throat – and at that point, he felt the inevitability of it.

“’m gonna throw up,” he managed to force the words out.

“Right, I’m getting a bucket,” Eden said firmly.

“No – no,” Jude reached his hand and grabbed Eden’s to stop him moving. “Help me – to the toilet…”

“Jude, it’d be easier…” Eden refuted, but Jude was already pushing himself up, his free hand cradling his belly. “Okay,” Eden grabbed Jude’s arm to support him, as his legs had the same quality as a newly born foal.

“Oh god,” Jude slurred, the movement had made everything ten times worse. His stomach contracted and he felt the rush of liquid barrelling up his throat. He slapped his hand to his mouth, hoping to prevent what he knew was coming. “Hmmmllk!” The heave was so strong that Jude lurched forwards.

“Jude!” Eden’s tone was anxious as he began to pull Jude more forcefully. Jude’s head was swimming, all he could focus on was keeping the contents of his stomach down.

“Hmmrrk!” The next heave was stronger, and Jude felt liquid hit the back of his teeth, his cheeks puffing out dramatically. He fought to swallow, they were nearly at the bathroom – he had to make it. Jude felt his chest tighten and his stomach squeezing more powerfully, he tried to force his feet to move faster but his legs had lost the ability to be useful in movement.

“H’kkrrrk!” Jude had no power over his own body anymore, it was doing what it needed to do. His legs had crumbled under the weight, Eden’s hand had released as he fell and he scrambled forwards, but not quickly enough.

“H’kkkkrrrgggllll’uuuuurrrrggglll!” A spray of warm, bitter liquid burst from Jude’s lips, coating the toilet seat and splashing onto the floor. He had to ignore it, pulling himself closer to the toilet bowl, disregarding that he was kneeling in his own vomit. He’d barely had a second, hardly enough time to draw breath, before his stomach contracted again. “B’hhhrrkk-luuurrrk!” It came with such force that the puke hit the back of the toilet seat and sent splashes back into Jude’s face.

“Oh Jude,” Eden’s voice came back into focus, Jude hadn’t realised that all he had heard previous was the rebellion of his own body.

“Urgh,” Jude groaned, learning forwards to his hands pressed on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor. He could still feel his stomach contracting, gearing up for the next assault. “S-sorry…” He choked, his voice thin.

“Jude, don’t be silly,” Eden brushed Jude’s hair away from his eyes, then placed his hand in between Jude’s shoulder blades. This simple action seemed to signal the start of the next round.

“Hrrrr’uuuullllkrrrrggggll!” A wave of thick, bitter liquid forced up his throat and flowed forcefully into the toilet bowl. He could taste the hops of the beer and the tang of the pineapple, and this made him retch harder.

“Oh Jude,” Eden rubbed Jude’s back firmly, feeling the muscles tense under his touch. “You should have said you were feeling this bad.”

“Wasn’t-“ Jude choked, spitting in order to try and rid his mouth of the taste. “Hit me all at – hrrk – once!”

“Here,” Eden retrieved a cloth and ran it under the tap, before kneeling down next to Jude and wiping gently at his face. It was something so simple, but it nearly brought tears to Jude’s eyes. “It’s okay,” Eden’s words were soothing, “it’ll be alright…”

“Feel – hrrk – awful…” Jude spit the saliva pooling in his mouth out, but that gave way to another heave that brought up a further wave of sick.

“You’ll feel better when it’s out,” Eden reassured him, rubbing his back again.

“Urrghh…” Jude groaned, his knees were beginning to protest being pressed against the cold tile floor; he tried to re-adjust himself, kneeling back and straightening up. His body didn’t like this, sending more sick charging up his throat and splashing into the water of the toilet bowl. “Pineapple doesn’t – hllk – taste as good on its way up…”

“Glad to see you’ve not lost your sense of humour,” Eden quipped dryly.

“Not the only thing I’ve lost,” he muttered. He was hoping this was a lull; his stomach wasn’t straining and contracting now, all he could feel was a slow churn in his gut.

“You feeling better?” Eden knelt down beside him, brushing a hair away from his face. “You’re not as ghostly pale anymore.”

“Think – for a bit…” Jude answered, he put his hand gently to his stomach – it didn’t feel quite as tender as before. “Not sure I’m completely – finished…” The last word hung slowly in the air.

“But just now?” Eden asked and Jude gave a tiny nod. “Right, for now, let’s get you cleaned up and into bed.”

“But –“ Jude started, but Eden cut him off.

“I’ll get a bucket, put it next to the bed,” Eden’s words were so self-assured that Jude had to listen to him. “We’ll get you in something comfy and tucked up so you can rest.”

“Okay,” Jude agreed, there was no point in arguing with a determined Eden.

“For some reason, I don’t think we’ll be having cookie dough for breakfast,” Eden chuckled.

The mention of food made Jude heave dryly again; he gulped down some air and shook his head: “No, I think not…”

#my writing #emeto tw #emeto #fics #ocs #Eden #Jude #puking #illness #sickfic #sickness #vomiting #puke #fiction #cw puke #queasy #emeto fiction #emetophilia #original character fiction

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clatoera · 1 year

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Always Remember We’re Burned for Better Chapter 6: Everybody’s Watching To See The Fallout

...hey guys. Sorry this is so late. I have been working 18 hour days all week, trying to gather skills, experiences, and make a strong impression on my preceptors. I’m in my dream rotation right now and essentially being an utter gunner LMAO.

I only have two more weeks of being unreliable though, and then i’ll be back to regular scheduled posting.

AO3

Masterpost of 1-5

Title from Eyes Open (t swift), because of COURSE for the 74th games I had to use a song from the movie!

Extra love to @ms1818 and @ohhowwehavefallen as usual, who have listened to me scream cry throw up and ask “Does cato seem like he likes clove” 18 times week.

This is one of my weaker chapters, I know that, but ya girl is a tired little girl (25 year old adult woman)

“So…what are we supposed to say to them?” Comes in a harsh whisper from Clove, from where she and Cato hid just beyond the door frame in one of the extra bedrooms of the district two floor. “We’re not technically their mentors right?”

“You’re supposed to be learning how to mentor, yes, and hiding in the spare room isn’t helping.” Enobaria hisses, grabbing both Clove and Cato by their upper arms and pulling them with her. “You’re at the very least going to watch and learn.”

“To be fair, I was here last year.” Cato mumbles as Enobaria pulls them into the open and empty center room.

“Yeah, and I had to tell you that you weren’t allowed to fuck your tribute girl, so you aren’t off to a shining start, Cato.” Enobaria shoves them both down on the circular couch, standing before them with hands on her hips and a disapproving look etched across her face. “Wasn’t this your life long goal? And you don’t even know how to talk to your tributes? You TRAINED with these two, weren’t they your friends?”

“I didn’t have any friends.” Clove reminds, leaning Into Cato’s side for no other reason than to irritate Enobaira. “Unless you count him.”

“Oh we’re just friends?” Cato teases, pinching the skin of her hip before he tugs her nearly into his lap. “That’s now what I thought on the way here when you were begging me to–”

“Shut it.” Clove’s eyes roll, but Enobaria buries her fingers into her temples at the way they incessantly flirt with one another.

“Dumb. Dumber. Not the time. You two are not here together. You’re here to mentor. To gather the sponsors. To do the things necessary to ensure more victors. In fact, you two shouldn’t even be sleeping in the same–”

“Absolutely not.” Clove snipped, pulling her feet up onto the couch with her, tucking herself closer to Cato. “That’s not happening, next instruction please, Enobaria.”

She tosses the remote to the large screen at them with more force than strictly necessary. “First step. Your tributes are down there getting prepped for the parade. You two watch the reapings. You take notes. Potential allies. Potential threats. Write down who you want, contact their mentors”

“It’s always two and one. The most we’d add is four.” Cato catches the pen that Enobaria tosses at them next, the small pad of paper for notes hitting him solidly in the chest. “We’ll talk to Glimmer and Marvel tomorrow, we’ll arrange it, it’ll be fine.”

“Then watch for entertainment, I don’t care. It’s part of your job now.” Enobaria turns to walk away, but stops herself and narrows her gaze at the two. “And I do mean watch.”

Cato and Clove find watching the reapings brings out a competitive side they had shoved down for the last year.

Clove’s been shifted off his lap at some point, and sits crossed legged with various pieces of papers scattered around on her knees and thighs. Cato keeps a running list of Yes, No, Maybe, Absolutely not, Dies in the blood bath, or “Does that even count as a tribute.”

“Do all those girls in one look the same?” Clove comments before she writes the very district one style name on their little list, noting specifically how she seemed already that she’d end up taking a pretty-girl angle. She scribbles something next to her name as she watches her so proudly ascend the stage as a volunteer. Cato cranes over to see that it simply reads “Dumb”, before he reads the “Unremarkable” next to the boy’s name.

“We have to have a win from two, obviously. Assert our dominance over Glimmer and Marvel as mentors.” She decides as their own district reaping replay happens, nothing they needed to note there, considering they grew up with these kids.

“Babe, do you really think Glimmer cares that much? Last year her boy died and she literally said ‘aww…sad.’ before she went back to talking about you.” Cato crumples a piece of paper and tosses it across the room when he is unhappy with the options from three. “I think it’ll be our boy this year. He was always pretty good.”

“It certainly isn't going to be four.” Clove points her pen towards the screen as a twelve year old with curly hair is pulled for their male tribute. “Do we have to ally with them? They’re not going to add anything…” She gives a single nod of approval as the girl is called up. Probably 15, but looks on the stronger end. “The girl might be useful. We can’t pick one over the other though, huh?”

“Finnick has to know the kid has no shot. We’ll play nice.” Cato shrugs, adding the girl to the yes list. “Maybe he’ll go out at the cornucopia anyway.”

As four to 11 pass, they continually add to the no list, barely bothering to pay attention anymore.

“You ready not to be the shiniest thing in Panem anymore?” Cato teases, pulling Clove back to his lap, arms loosely threading around her waist as he kisses her cheek. “Sent to the backburner of victors past..” His lips find her jawline, hands deftly twisting her so her body faces him.

“You think they’re going to ever let us live in peace?” Clove taunts back, wrapping her forearms gently around his shoulders, fingers toying gently with the hair at the base of his neck. “New victor or not, we’re still who everyone wants.” She leans her neck back, shivering as his lips trace the sensitive skin there. “I actually..I kind of look forward to it.”

Cato pulls away, eyebrow cocked at his girlfriend, looking her up and down rapidly. “Since when do you want less attention?”

“I’m tired of talking about my mom…about Enobaria.. talking about us. There are just some things I want us to keep for ourselves.” Clove had become a little more aware than ever exactly how much her life would have changed had her mother won, and she isn’t sure she would have liked who she became had she been raised in the eyes of the Capitol. It can’t be great to be a kid in that light, with constant cameras on you, being paraded around the country like an accessory to a successful parent.

“We can come out every year for the games, but we can just live our lives.” Clove sighs, strumming her thumb over his cheekbone, pressing her forehead to his. “I never thought much about what life would be like after winning. It would be great.. But I honestly cannot believe how nice it sounds to just go back home, train kids at the academy… have Enobaria and Brutus just let themselves in for breakfast every week.”

“You’ve gone soft,” Cato pulls her closer, the edge in his voice somehow teasing but also..almost longing. Cato had been far more open about his simple desires for his life after the games in the past year, but she hadn’t verbalized such similar desires until now. It wasn’t soft, no, it was just growth.

“I wouldn’t go that far, I’ll still beat those training kids into the floor.” Clove leans in at the exact moment a heart-wrenching screech fills the room from the reaping playback on the television.

The girl on the screen is frantic, pulling a tiny blonde thing into a hug before being led forward to the destitute district twelve stage.

“Did that girl just–” Clove cranes her head, watching as the twelve girls ascend the stage with her head held high. Not in pride, like a career would, but in a way that she does not falter in tears like so many tributes do.

“From twelve? She must have a death wish.” Cato scoffs, trying to pull Clove’s attention back to him with a squeeze of her thigh. “She’ll be dead in the first ten minutes.”

Though the escort continues talking, Clove can’t drag her attention away when she hears the name, and how she shares it with the young girl who was just called.

“She did it for her little sister…” Sure, Clove may not understand the type of familial love, but it’s still unusual to see someone so willing to die for their sibling.

“Siblings get reaped all the time, what good is there when one dies over the other?” He shakes his head, knowing full well that while he would have done it for his own baby sister, had that been at all possible or necessary. He has much more likelihood of survival than anyone else, for one. Besides, he couldn’t volunteer in her place anyway.

“Exactly… There's something about her. She’s going to be trouble, Cato.” Clove warns, eyes tracking the girl as she walks across the stage. “I’d have done it for Cora, but I would win.” She’d have done it anyway, winning or not, and that's not even her sister, but that isn’t the point. “You don’t do that unless you have a chance.”

“She won’t make it a day.” Cato disagreed, leaning back full on the couch, pulling her fully on top of him as he does so. He tucks his chin against the top of her dark hair, fingers drumming lightly on her lower back.

A little blonde boy takes the stage next to her, practically the same size as this Katniss Everdeen. Peeta.

“Is that one named after bread?”

“And they say district one has bad names.”

Clove laughs into chest, forgetting any concern over the volunteer from twelve.

A glass vase shatters against the window as soon as that final, aggravating score is announced, grabbed and released from Cato’s hand as he starts moving towards their current tributes.

“Are you fucking with me?” Comes from him, as he wraps his hand around their boy’s throat, single handedly pinning him to the wall.

“You two idiots have no fucking idea how she got an Eleven?” Comes from her, as she grabs her girl by the hair and tugs her neck back sharply, earning a whimper from her ex classmate.

“HEY, Hands off the tributes.” Brutus insists, tugging Cato back at the same time Enobaria pries clove off the girl.

“You two are going to get yourselves fucking killed by that girl from 12. You’re going to lose. To Twelve.” Cato snarls, thrashing his shoulders to get out of Brutus’ grasp, freeing an arm just enough to grab the boy by his shirt. “You’ll be an embarrassment to two. Couldn’t even figure out her skill, which, clearly she has a lot of.”

“What did she do in training? Is she fast, is she smart, what did she do all week?” Clove breaks free from Enobaria, but does not put her hands back on the girl.

“I-I don’t know-” She stammers, violently shaking her head and trying to back away from her mentor, before tripping and falling to the floor. “She didn’t show anything–”

“She had to have shown something!” Cato growls, directing back to his boy. “Clove knew when she saw her volunteer she was trouble, and you ignored the biggest rule, of scoping out your competition.” Cato practically throws him away by the shirt, tossing the boy to the floor beside his partner.

“They’ve already been stealing the attention for days.” Clove recalls, standing beside Cato with her arms across her chest, the two of them towering over their cowering tributes on the floor. “The parade? With the flames? Noone was talking about you two. You’re literally standing in the smoke from fire girl right now. Noone sees you, no one cares about who you are.”

“You need to snuff her out, got it? First kill. At the cornucopia you hunt her down and you get rid of her.” Cato warns, as the two of them shuffle backwards. “Go sleep, you have the interviews tomorrow and you can’t fuck those up.”

They watch as their tributes scramble to their feet and practically run down the hall out of sightline of Cato, Clove, Enobaria, and Brutus.

The second they are in their respective rooms –fortunately, there was no concern for the two of them slipping off together– it is their turn to be grabbed by their once mentors.

Brutus has an arm against his chest, pinning him to the wall, while Enobaria holds next to him on that wall with the hand around her throat.

“What the fuck are you two doing,” Brutus pushes Cato in a little harder, until Cato relents and lets his head his the wall.

“You can’t manhandle your tributes, are you stupid? You’re supposed to guide them!”

“What are you calling this then, Enobaria-” Clove tries to push her hand away, only for Enobaira to tighten her grasp on her neck.

“Oh you’re not our tributes anymore, you’re on par with us, and you aren’t going to embarrass us by your little childish meltdowns.” Enobaira lets go of Clove, letting her fall to the floor gasping for the air she had been deprived of.

Brutus releases Cato at the same time, but he only glares back at his mentor, unlike Clove who’s choking the air back into her body. “This isn’t your year, don’t take it so personal.”

“It’s our first year on this side.” Cato huffs, crossing his arms over his chest to face off with Brutus. “We wouldn’t have made that mistake.”

“It’s her first year. You did this last year, you have no excuse. You weren’t very good at it last year, either.” Brutus warns, shoving Cato with two fingers on his shoulder. “You didn’t even know his name.”

“Because he didn’t matter. I’d have killed him myself to get her out.”

“They aren’t your competition, that Twelve girl isn’t. You aren’t against them, don’t take it so personally.” Enobaria pulls Clove to her feet by her shoulders, helping her stand after sending her to the ground moments ago. “You two have a long future of this ahead of you. You can’t take it so personally.”

“You’d have done worse to us if a twelve girl out scored us.” Clove coughs out, rubbing her hand over her throat to soothe what is surely angry skin there.

“Yeah, but you’re Cato and Clove. We always expected the best out of you two.”

“I think it went well.” Cato admits, handing off one of the glasses is in hand to his girlfriend, who sits on the floor in front of her couch. Her legs are outstretched before her with ankles crossed, as she reaches out and shoots him a smile before she takes the glass from him. She basks in the warmth of the artificial fireplace under the television screen,

“They’re not us, but they’ll do.” Clove teases, taking a long, slow sip of the drink as she waits for him to come to her level.

Cato slides down next to her, crossing his outstretched legs in front of him as well, before tugging her against him. “Noone’s ever going to be us.”

“Not a chance.” Clove curls into him, tucking her head into his shoulder and humming as the girl from 5 crosses off the stage. “Not the strongest field this year.”

“The kids from one are idiots.” Cato agreed, laying his head on top of hers, rubbing his hand over the outside of her shoulder.

“They’re always idiots in one. We both know they pretty much breed for looks like show horses. They don’t care much about what's on the inside so long as they have the shiniest coats and longest legs.” Clove snickers, leaning down to open the brown square box between their feet. She pops open the box to the bubbling cheese pizza on the inside, and a smile of absolute delight spreads across her face.

“Oh come one, you like Glimmer and Marvel. They’re nice.” Cato points out, laughing as Clove lifts a slice of pizza from the box and tilts her head back so the warm cheese can slide off the crust and into her mouth. “All the food in this place and this is what you wanted? Why are you eating it like that?”

“I never said they weren’t nice, I said they weren’t smart.“ Clove scrapes the rest of the cheese off with her teeth, before returning to the tip of the triangle and rolling the dough into a little roll before taking a bite across the crust. “What? It’s good.”

“Still doesn’t answer as to why there was all the food in the capitol and you wanted Pizza of all things. Why are you stripping the cheese, you just..bite into it?” Cato illustrates, knitting his eyebrows together as he watches Clove continue to disassemble her pieces.

“It works for me.” Clove defends, glancing up to see they’re onto district ten already. “Cato. We had what you wanted yesterday, let me have this greasy, doughy Pizza okay? We don’t even have this back home.”

“We could probably make it..” It wasn't a lie, though. They had nothing like this back home, and certainly nothing like this growing up. Sure, two wasn’t a poor district by any means, but they were trained that food was fuel for reaching peak performance. Almost every meal in the academy was some combination of high protein in the form of eggs or plain, bland chicken, usually rice, and some steamed, bitter vegetable. Take the joy out of eating and no one will dare to over or under eat– you’re maximizing your physicality, nothing else.

There was nothing like the greasy, cheesy pizza they tried for the first time after the end of her party, during her tour. There was nothing like the fresh, crisp sushi from four. Or the rich, bloody rare steak Cato fell QUICKLY obsessed with during his own tour last year. Just the other night when the two of them had slipped out after scores came out, Clove absolutely devoured the entire basket of salty fries when she tried them for the first time.

“I think this is my favorite food.” Clove mumbled around the carb she shoved into her mouth, officially 1/4th done with their late night snack. “I can’t believe I'm saying that.”

“What, do you like Pizza? You used to roll up cheese slices in bread, I’m not actually shocked-”

“No. That we live a life where we can have a favorite food.” Clove picks up her glass from before and swirls the contents before taking a long drink. “God they’d smack me back in the academy if they heard me say that. How many times did they tell us you eat to perform, nothing more?”

“We won, baby. We can eat whatever we want, whenever we want.” Cato understands, though, deep down. Nineteen (and nearly nineteen) years old, and they were just for the first time getting to try things. Getting to enjoy things. “Isn’t that the point of the life of a victor?”

“For my birthday, I want fries. And that steak you really like that's still bleeding inside. Oh and Pizza. I want Pizza.” Clove decides, satiated for now and settles back in his arms.

“Anything you want, Clove. Anything.”

It would, after all, be the first of her birthday’s that they’d spend together, not training.

They settle back against the couch as the boy from eleven leaves the stage. Cato identified him as a possible threat due to his size earlier this week, but his training score didn’t alarm them enough to actually raise flags. Besides, He denied their tributes’ offer of allyship. His loss.

The girl was almost sad to watch. Sure, there were little kids in their own games, but neither had to take them out on their own. They died at the hands of others, who had no choice but to only kill the weakest who were incapable of defending themselves, or from exposure to the elements themselves. She was so childlike, baby face still perfectly intact, that she barely even looked old enough to compete.

The girl from twelve is next, and Clove feels Cato tense up beside her. They expect she must reveal something to gain her sponsors, right?

Wrong.

She’s unremarkable. Awkward, forcing a smile and forcing laughs. She lacks a charisma that all careers have– they wouldn’t be cleared to volunteer if they couldn’t work the crowd, something that clearly doesn’t matter in Twelve.

Clove nearly throws up in her mouth when the girl spins in her dress, flames spiraling below her knees. “What even is this stupid fire thing?” Sure, the fire itself was a cool touch, but this girl…she didn’t have the spark herself, so to speak. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“The girl on fire.” Cato mumbles, finishing his drink swiftly. “Our kids are going to smother her out. They have to.”

“She’s dangerous, I'm telling you. She’s got no personality, but she’s got them eating out of her hand. This flame thing…the training score..she’s dangerous.” Clove insists, sliding down to full lay on the ground, head using his thigh as a pillow. Now that the girl was over, there was nothing left to watch.

“They’ll take her out. I’m not worried.” Cato threads his fingers through her hair, stroking down the dark length of it. “Two’s the only one worth watching. Third year in a row.”

“Even so, they aren’t as good as we were. It’s a weak group all around this year. There’s boring games ahead.” Clove stretches in his lap, raising dark eyebrows at him enticingly. “I guess we’ll just have to make our own entertainment this week, right?”

“Last year Enobaria dragged me off the couch by the ear to go get you sponsors. We’ll have to hide from her.”

“She only cared because it was me…are you afraid of her?” Clove teases, reaching up and brushing her fingernails under his jaw.

“Maybe a little.” Cato admits, before the laughs of the audience during Peeta Mellark’s interview distracts them.

“He’s got the people skills at least. Together they’d be a good team.” Cato gives a small nod of approval, but shrugs anyway. “Not that it matters. A team only gets you so far.”

“People like him.” Clove agrees, propping herself up on her elbow to watch the rest of the interview. “He has a good rapport with the audience.”

They give a little smile when Caesar asks about a girl back home, and offers him dating advice. There’s no shot the kid is going home, it seems cruel to make him talk about things that will not be. Leave it to Caesar.

“He seems earnest at least-” She offers, stopping abruptly when they hear;

“She came here with me.”

The response has Clove shooting up straight, rapidly looking between Cato and the screen.

“NO way in Hell.” She snaps, kicking the box by their feet away. “NOT a chance in hell. There's no way.”

“Is he trying to be us?” Cato questions, staring straight through the tv like he could intimidate the lie out of the boy from here.

“What does he think he’s trying to pull? There’s no chemistry there, there's not a chance in hell That's real. NO way. He’s trying to recreate us. He has to be.”

“Not a fucking shot.” He pulls her to his lap as if to illustrate the point, settling her knees on either side of his legs. “He has to be trying to be us. Stupid, stupid, plan. I want him dead just for suggesting it.”

“There's no other us.” Clove agrees, wrapping her legs around his waist, grinding her hips down into his. “Noone even comes close.”

“Never.” He assures, before coming down hard against her bottom lip.

—

“You don’t need to keep giving me surprises, Cato.” Clove teases, as he leads her down the back staircase to the roof of the training center. “You know I don’t even like to be surprised.”

“This isn’t so much a surprise, we’re done with most of those.” He gives her hand a tight squeeze as he leads her back to the main access levels of the building, where they are actually allowed to be.

“Baby, between all the gifts, the marshmallow treats for breakfast, and the dinner, and the second dinner on the roof…what's the big deal about nineteen?” Clove asks, following him down the stairs as closely as her legs can carry her, “We already won the games, it’s not like I escaped that..”

It goes without saying of course, That Clove has officially outlived her mother today.

“We’ve spent the last ten years training on your birthday, I missed your seventeenth, and you missed your eighteenth.” He pulls her into the main lobby of the training center, slipping in through a side door that they really shouldn’t even know exists. “It’s the first time since I've met you that you actually have more guaranteed.” Sure, there was never a question that she would win her games, but now it’s actual reality. There are no more games to hangover them, no more risk to their lives. “And that’s worth a lot.”

Clove wraps her arm around his forearm, squeezing her hand in both appreciation and understanding. “Well, thank you. I’m not complaining about the outpouring of love.”

He grins at her, but brings them to a pause before the door to one of the many lounge areas. “Just so you know..this was absolutely not my idea.”

“What do you–”

“I told them you’d hate it, do not take my head off for this.”

Cato pushes the door open, and gently nudges her inside before him.

Inside the private room is as close to what they could consider “friends.” There’s Enobaria and Brutus, next to Glimmer and Marvel. By the bar are Johanna Mason and Finnick Odair, eyes locked on the games actively happening on the screen, miss fire girl being chased down by flame in the trees. Johanna and Finnick’s tributes are long since dead, neither making it very far past the initial bloodbath this year.

“What the fuck is happening–” Clove narrows her eyes, as Enobaria intercepts her from the side.

“We figured you wouldn’t want to do anything big, but it’s a big deal, your first birthday as a victor.” She explains, pulling her closer into the room. “Considering your birthday is during the games Kid, you’re never going to escape this.” Enobaria squeezes her by the shoulder, letting her fully enter the space and soak it in. “Happy Birthday, Clove.”

Enobaria knows the significance of nineteen for her, the first birthday that Clove’s mother never had herself.

Glimmer looks like she’s about to envelope her in a hug when she stops short, putting her hands up. “Sorry, right, you don’t do touching! Happy Birthday!” She smiles brightly at the girl, “Cato said you’d hate this but I thought it would just be so fun!”

Marvel gestures to the back corner of the room. “Glimmer’s been planning this for weeks, she’s got a hell of a combo of food back there. The cookies are fantastic.”

“A little warning would have been nice, Cato.” Clove whispers through teeth clenched in a smile, making her way towards the back table Marvel had referenced. She grabs a single fry, arms still crossed firmly over her chest.

“Enobaria said you’d never agree.” Cato explains, reaching over her to grab a piece of one of the cookies Marvel had raved about. “And Glimmer really really wanted to see your face. I told her it wouldn’t be pleased but… People like you, Clove. You deserve to know that.”

She wants to argue back, that the only person in the entire group of kids they grew up with that liked her was him, that not even her father or her grandmother liked her, that even her mother didn’t like her enough to stay behind with her (which, Clove objectively knows is not the case), but she does not get the chance as Glimmer grabs her by the hand and pulls her away.

She’s passed around the room, to Brutus next, then Finnick and Johanna who are wrapped up in watching the girl from twelve submerge in the water.

“Annie wanted me to tell you she was going to come.” Finnick explains first, before nodding his head towards the screen. “It’s a little harder on her than most, when we lose our tributes.” He need not explain further, everyone being aware of Annie’s immense post games trauma. They all had it, but Annie actually showed it.

“Were you born for this shit, Clove? A birthday during the games, that's unbelievable.” Johanna taunts, gesturing to the screen. “Looks like your tributes are about to give you a gift too, look.”

Clove directs her attention to the games, where indeed, the pack of careers are chasing down Katniss Everdeen. A snide smirk grows across her face, but pauses when she is taken back by the blonde trailing behind them.

“Is that–”

“Damn, Loverboy played us all.” Brutus grumbles, leaning against the top of the bar beside Clove. “He got in with our kids, and is after the girl.”

“They’re using him to get to her, they have to be.” Glimmer suggests, and truthfully, Clove is sure of it too. The boy has no skills he offers them, except for a declaration of love for his partner.

“I can’t believe he’s hunting her down.” Cato comes behind her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as she leans back against him. “So much for all that about being into her..”

They all watch as Katniss scrambles up the tree like a little squirrel, clearly experienced. Was this her talent? No, this wouldn’t earn an eleven.

The boy from two is threatening to come after her, and is indeed trying, but the sheer weight of him paired with a lack of experience sends him crashing down onto the solid earth beneath the trees.

“They’re so stupid to send him. Both of our girls are so much lighter.” Marvel shakes his head, redirecting his attention back to his plate of assorted snacks. “That’s like sending Cato over Clove, stupid.”

Clove scoffs as the girl from one goes next, missing her by several inches with a bow and arrow. “That was her skill, really Glimmer? She’s not even a moving target.”

Before Glimmer can defend the girl, Cato flinches as the District Two boy tries to take it into his own hands, missing by an even greater margin.

“They’re poor fucking excuses for Careers.” Cato decides, reaching behind the bar and grabbing himself an entire bottle of the first clear liquor he gets his hands on.

“We’d never be that bad. None of us.” Clove agrees, gesturing to herself, Cato, Glimmer and Marvel. “We’d never get outsmarted by a bitch from Twelve.” She snatches the bottle from Cato’s hands, taking a long, hard drink without even gagging this time. Growth.

“You’re all so humble.” Finnick chimes in, hoping off of the barstool he was straddling. “That’ll be it for me, I think. They’re not going to get her tonight.”

The boy from twelve, who has stayed in the back staring with wide doe eyes, contributing nothing to the hunt for the girl, suggests waiting her out, but never looks away from where she hides in the tree.

“He’s protecting her.” Clove recognizes the look he gives as he stares up the tree, something she registers as anything but malice. “That's why he’s with ours. He’s trying to lead them away, to keep her alive. He’s protecting her.”

“Maybe he really does like her.” Surprise floods Johanna’s voice. “I don’t think she gives a fuck about him, but he likes her.”

“He’s got a death wish.” Enobaria announces in the general direction of the group of young victors huddled around the bar. “They’ll take him out as soon as they realize what he’s doing. He’s buying her time, but she’ll get nothing out of it.”

“Haymitch Abernathy has to be practically unconscious by now.” Brutus comments, as the camera focuses away from their tributes– the district one girl and the district two boy getting a little too handsy for national television– and instead focuses on the quaking girl in the tree.

As if on cue, a little gray parcel descends into the trees directly to her lap.

“No fucking way.” Comes from Marvel.

“How the fuck did she get sponsors” is a growl from Cato.

“Is Haymitch even awake?” Asks Johanna.

“I knew she was going to be trouble.” Clove pushes back to head towards the table of her favorite treats. “If they don’t get her in the morning, we’re in for it….anyway. I think I'll enjoy my cake now.”

The next morning they wake up to the news that Katniss dropped a nest on their kids, the girl from one is dead, and she absconded with the bow and arrow that she pried from her dead hands.

Long distance weapon, score of 11, and apparent sponsor favorite.

In for it, indeed.

–

The four of them, Cato, Clove, Glimmer, and Marvel, are spaced out on the couch in the District One Suite, having been relieved from their ‘smile at sponsors’ duties for the time being by their older counterparts. Clove had gotten a little too close to tossing a steak knife at a man who suggested she exchange favors in order for a few hundred dollars to change hands, and Enboaria pulled her away just in time to prevent an addition to her body count, sending the four of them out of sight and out of mind for the afternoon.

Their tributes didn't even need anything, they had a whole cornucopia full of goods.

“What is she doing?” Glimmer rises from the couch to the balls of her feet, when an arrow pierces the bag of apples hanging precariously amongst their supplies. “She’s trying to–”

Before the words fall the apple does, and the entire screen is filled with a massive explosion

“I fucking knew it.” Clove throws the nearest pillow in the general direction of the screen. “It’s taking them way too long to kill her, she’s going to end up getting one of them first.”

“At least it isn’t us.” Marvel shrugs, wrapping his legs around Glimmer and pulling her closer to him, deftly braiding tiny braids into her blonde curls. “That girl is sneaky.”

“She’s smart, she smoked them out. I hate to say it but she’s a threat.” Cato finally admits, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration.

“Oh look– and now she got yours! Oh fuck she is good” Clove directs, just as the boy from one crumbles to his knees with an arrow in his chest. “She’s taken down both of yours! What's that leave..our two.. Five’s girl..the two from twelve..the two from eleven.”

“One from Eleven.”

“No, they’re both still alive I think, Cato–”

“No. Not anymore, look.”

Clove snaps her head to attention as a shaky, crying song comes from Katniss, watching the life drain out of that little girl’s face. “Is this a talent show now? Glimmer, can you imagine going up there and doing a little twirl….Glimmer?”

The response is sniffles, and the Blonde girl with tears streaming down her face.

“Are you for real?”

“Glimmer you WON the games six years ago. You KILLED twelve year olds. There’s no crying over the Hunger Games.”

“They look like babies to me now, she was just so small!” Glimmer whimpers, curling up against Marvel’s side. “She was just so little.”

“Glimmer you’re like twenty one, they aren’t THAT much younger than you were when you won.” Clove nudges her foot with her own. “Come on. Laugh at the singing.”

“It’s not about that–”

Silence falls over them when they catch what Katniss does next. As they watch her arrange flowers around this girl, effectively burying her. She gives some gesture towards a camera, and Glimmer once again lets out a little sob from inside her chest.

“Everyone is going to root for her.” Cato thinks aloud, shaking his head in utter, absolute disdain. “Who buries another tribute?’ “Someone who hates the games and everything they stand for.”

Noone dares to mention the implications of Clove’s statement.

Hours later, they are with the rest of the victors when an announcement is made.

They’re looking at each other across the room, the silent communication of let's get out of here understood between them both, as evidenced by the smirk on his face and the playful raise of her eyebrows. Cato is letting himself out of the conversation when the room goes from boisterous, jovial conversation to a hushed, stun crowd of victors.

Two Victors.

Two Victors from the same district.

The silence is felt most strongly by the movement of Cato to Clove, of Glimmer to Marvel, of Annie somehow even closer to Finnick. Glimmer’s siblings gravitate closer to her, and Enobaria takes a nearly imperceptible step towards the group as well, though unclear to whom.

The girl goes in search of Peeta, who is somehow against all odds still alive.

“Haymitch, what the hell did you do?” It’s Cashmere, oddly enough, who’s beautiful voice breaks the silence.

“It’s between us two, now.” He says simply, raising his glass towards the entire horde of careers. “You’re welcome, cheers.”

“Seriously, Haymitch, what did you do?” One of the far older victors, closer to Haymitch in age than any of the others, grasps him by both shoulders. “What have you done?”

“Young love everyone! We all know how much they simply eat that up.” He directs directly at Cato and Clove, something between mischief and disdain on his features. “I have to thank you, you’re great examples to persuade them.”

“We are nothing like them.” Clove hisses, taking a step dangerously close to Haymitch, hands reaching for the neck of his shirt. “Never compare us to them.

“It’s inevitable, Sweetheart. Don’t get all riled up, trust me, they don’t want to be you two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cato steps in now, towering over the drunk on his barstool.

“You don’t have to worry about them stealing your attention, I can promise. She won’t want it.”

“Well she’ll be dead soon, anyway, and Two will have Four Victors in three years. A record.” Clove promises, stepping away from the middle aged man, but not before she grabs Cato’s arm and pulls him back too.

By the time that Katniss finds Peeta, on the verge of death, and manages to drag him to a cave, Clove is sure of it. Two has this one in the bag.

“Look at her. She looks like she wants to cry anytime she has to touch him.” Glimmer taunts, watching the girl’s color drain from her flesh anytime she has to get too close to the boy.

“I’d want to cry if you looked at me like she looks at him.” Marvel agrees, the four of them standing in a semi circle around Haymitch, who is slumped over the bar.

“Wouldn’t it be an absolute shame to die a complete virgin, probably never even been kissed.” Clove barbs, a wide smile plastered on her face. “Oh look at her. She looks so uncomfortable. Good job Haymitch, you were right, this is great.”

“This is your grand love story?” Gloss chimes in from across the room, all of them locked in on watching the absolute dread in Katniss Everdeen’s eyes as she inches closer to the boy.

“Will you all shut your mouths-” Haymitch slams his glass down, turning to berate them at the exact moment Clove lets out an absolute scream of a laugh.

“Shut the FUCK up!”

“There’s NO way people believe this.”

“She looks like she’s going to cry.”

“Oh my god, they think that's a kiss?” Clove snarks, craning her head around for Enobaria. “Enobaria! Was that how I was kissing at sixteen?”

“Clove, I wish that's how you two were at sixteen.” Enobaria joins the circle, sneering at the screen full of awkward teen barely-kisses.

“You two weren’t even that tame in training, everyone knew you were just a few minutes apart from sneaking off to some closet.” Brutus adds, completing the circle behind Haymitch.

“There's no way anyone believes that's real.” Glimmer agrees, shaking her head in disgust. “And without any sort of chapstick, that couldn’t have even felt good.”

“What do you know about what people believe?” Haymitch waves his hands about, borderline belligerent at the taunting and jeers from the generations worth of career victors. “That looks perfectly real.”

Cato raises his eyebrow, moving at the same time she does, before he grabs Clove by the face, crashing his lips against hers. She understands his point, immediately hooking her arms around his shoulders just in time for him to bend her backwards.

“See what I mean, when I said I wish they only looked like your two.” Enobaria whispers to Haymitch, who has pushed himself up and through the group of victors.

When they pull apart, Clove is smirking and Cato calls out to the disappearing drunk. “Still think yours looked believable?”

–

The games continue to play out as a nightmare.

Their girl almost gets her, only to brag and get her neck broken by the giant guy from eleven.

Clove sees herself out, unable to face the mocking she has so freely dished out herself.

Their boy is in the final three. And instead of throwing the bow off, or tossing them to the mutts below, he tries to take them both head on.

A mercy arrow comes from fire girl, after she and Peeta decide it’s worth untying the tourniquet on his leg.

“Well Haymitch, we have to hand it to you.” Brutus offers, as the sun comes up on the screen in the arena. “Congratulations on your victors–”

Another rule change pauses the congratulations and the surprise of a twelve win.

Only one victor.

“She’ll shoot him. She’s got a sister to get home to.” Finnick claims, shaking his head in distaste. “Sad. Thought they had a chance.”

“He’ll bleed out anyway” Johanna agrees, “He actually likes her, too. He isn’t faking it. “

“Think he’ll die for her though?” Enobaria questions, settling down on the couch beside Clove.

“If he loves her, for real, then yeah. He will.” Cato admits, shaking his head.

The berries are in her hand and it’s Clove who knows what's happening first.

“OH my god they’re going to kill themselves.”

“There has to be a–”

“Cato, shh, listen.”

The room full of victors is completely silent, truly sitting on the edge of their seats, in various stages of disbelief as the two of them raise their suicide pact to their mouths in perfect unison.

A panicked voice fills the arena, and the entirety of the room lets out anticipated breaths they did not mean to be holding.

I present to you the winners of the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games.

The room is still quiet, processing, accepting the reality and anticipating the fallout from exactly what Katniss Everdeen just suggested and did, when two finely dressed officials enter the room without so much as a knock.

“Cato. Clove. President Snow would like to see you both. Immediately. “

#always remember we're burned for better #arwbfb #arwbfb tag #clato #cato and clove #clato au #cato and clove fanfic #clato fanfic #the hunger games fanfic #glimmer and marvel are back in buisness

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Tips For Aspiring Artists

I'm not an expert by any means, but here are some things I've figured out that I wish someone had told me sooner. 1 - 6 are for traditional artists, but the other tips work for digital artists as well.

Get artist-quality supplies. Crayola is nice, but Crayola costs less than artist-quality supplies for the same reason that Barbie's Dream House costs less than a real house: It's for kids to play around with. By all means feel free to practice with Crayola for now, but start saving up for the real thing. You may have to buy markers one or two at a time as you have funds, or ask a friend or family member to buy you that awesome paint set for your next birthday or whatever. Trust me, once you see and feel the difference, you will never go back. It is night and day.

Buy an artists' pen set if you're using traditional media. You know why professionally-inked art looks so good? Because they use a variety of line thicknesses. You know the easiest way to make that happen consistently? A set of artist's pens in varying thicknesses. This is a good set at a reasonable price, and the ink is phenomenal (read that description--your average writing pen doesn't have those qualities). I am not sponsored by Sakura; this is just the first really good pen set I ever bought and it's served me well.

India ink dries waterproof. Let me repeat that: India ink dries waterproof. It's also not alcohol-soluble, which means it's great for working with water- or alcohol-based markers or watercolor paints/pencils. Just make sure your ink has time to dry before you add color!

Prismacolor, Copic, and Spectrum Noir markers are REFILLABLE. This is why they cost more than the store brand. You are expected to keep the marker casing and buy a bottle of ink in a color you're running out of, and a set of spare nibs for when your marker nibs wear out. This is cheaper than buying all new markers, plus you're gonna run out of one or two of your favorite colors way before the rest and you'll be happy to have that ink on hand. These markers are meant for the long haul, and by George they're gonna make sure you can keep using them for the long haul.

Use the right paper for your tools. Sketch paper is great for pencils and some paints, but horrible for everything else. Marker pads are perfect for alcohol markers, but expensive. (I use white cardstock because of how expensive actual marker paper is. Gold leaf is less expensive per square inch.) Watercolor paper has a rough surface that isn't good for charcoal work but has the perfect amount of "tooth" for watercolor paints and pencils, and is thick enough not to pucker the way regular paper does when wet.

Painters, learn about gesso, thinners, and extenders. These items can make your time painting much happier, especially if you work with acrylics on fine details (like, say, doll customization).

Don't overwork yourself. If you're gonna do a marathon art session, set a timer for one hour. At the end of the hour, STOP. Put your supplies down. Get up and stretch your legs and do some wrist exercises. Then reset your timer and start working on your art again. You do not want to end up with carpal tunnel or chronic wrist pain by the age of 25 because you pushed yourself too hard.

Warm up before you start an art session. Nothing fancy--just get out a piece of regular paper and a pencil, and make some loop-de-loops, zigzags, and doodles for 5-10 minutes to loosen your hands up so you can get them to make the shapes you want.

Learn how to practice drawing That Thing You Suck At Drawing. Let's say you suck at hands, and you want to get better. Find a lot of photos of hands in various positions, shown from various angles. Study the way the light hits them. Trace the photos to get a feel for the shapes. Then and only then does it make sense to start trying to draw them freehand. Always refer back to the original photos, NOT to your earlier drawings, so you're less likely to repeat mistakes from your drawings.

Don't be ashamed to use tools that feel like cheating. Real, professional artists use rulers (or the straight-line tool in an art program) and compasses (or the circle program) and stencils (or the stamp tool) all the time. I hear people say things like "You're so talented--I can't even draw a straight line!" You know who can draw a perfectly straight line without help? NO ONE. Tools are there to help you. Use them. There is no special reward for doing things the hard way or Suffering For Your Art. It isn't morally better or a more "pure" form of artistry; it's just harder.

Break the thing you're drawing down into lines and shapes. You know those sketch layers in Photoshop, or those rough pencil marks in traditional art, or the perspective lines in a scene? Artists are basically using sketch time to plot out the general shapes and structures of their subject before fleshing it out more and making it look all pretty and polished. Everything you look at is basically made of lines, shapes, and regions of color. With time and practice, you get better and quicker at doing the sketching part. But you never really outgrow it.

#art reference #art tips #doll customization #traditional art help #digital art help

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lakshyacacampus · 2 years

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8 tips for successful exam +2 preparation

Exam season is one of the most stressful times for both parents and students alike. The HSC exams play one of the most important roles in determining the future of the candidate and the streams they may follow. Students undergo a lot of stress and anxiety. But that doesn’t have to be the case if you prepare efficiently.

In this article, you will find step by step guide on how to have an effective study plan and score more than 90+ in 12th class.

1. Challenge yourself You can be your greatest ally and contender. Maintain 2 scenarios, first is your present and the other is your past. Now create a challenging game in your mind where the objective is to score a higher percentage than the previous exam. E.g.: if your scored 50% in your previous exam, try to get 60% in the next exam. If your aim is to get a great percentage overall, then keep that as your target. Create a visual table of all your previous marks and the individual subject break up, this will help you to be objective.

2. The syllabus book is the most important Most students make the mistake of running behind umpteen reference books. Reference books are a great resource when you are preparing for your competitive exams. They may help you with tips and tricks to understand a concept easier, but never underestimate the importance of your syllabus book. If you notice, you will see that students who score high marks always stick to the syllabus book. The syllabus book is designed under a strict syllabus; all the questions asked during your final exam will be under this syllabus.

3. Focus on your weak points What are your weak points? Make a note of the portions you are not strong at. Analyze your previous exam papers and find your mistakes, take a note of the areas you are poor at. Working on your weak points will ensure that they will not affect your overall percentage. The biggest mistake that students make is they keep practising questions in their strongest areas and skip the weak portions.

4. Time Management is key HSC is going to be one of the toughest exams you will face. Proper time management skills are what is going to make or break your exam scores. Make a daily schedule and stick to it. Utilizing whatever spare time you have is going to boost your marks considerably. Focus on tougher subjects in the morning when your mind is fresh. Take advantage of your free periods. If your focus is to score above 90% then keep aside 8 hours of your day for effective preparation. Never skip language subjects like English, they can prove to be a real percentage booster.

5. Solve previous year question papers Previous years papers can be a great asset for students. You will find multiple resources online. Solving previous years papers is like attempting to write the final exams. Try and attempt the whole paper keeping track of time as if you are in the exam hall instead of answering only a few questions. Analyze your answers and work on questions or topics you are not confident in. You may not score great on your first attempt, but if you keep practising you will see good improvement which will also boost your self-confidence.

6. Maintain a neat answer sheet When trying to get a good score, every answer counts. Your answer sheet is the only thing on the basis of which your marks are calculated. So avoid multiple strikethroughs and scribbles. Underline important points, make boxes around formulas or around final answers. Such simple things can help you increase up to 10 marks. Understand that your invigilators have many answer sheets to read through, so the objective is to make it visually easier for them to give you marks.

7. The night before the exam You would be surprised to know that 10% of your marks depends on this crucial night. Do not focus of learning new topics the night before. Try and keep your mind relaxed and sleep earlier so that your mind will be fresh to tackle the questions the next day.

8. On the exam day Just like the night before, don’t try to learn new topics or discuss difficult topics with friends right before entering the hall. Make sure you read through the questions in a calm mind before attempting to answer and strategize your game plan. If you are coming across questions you are unaware of, do not panic. Always attempt the 5 marks questions first, because it is difficult to tackle these questions during the final minutes of the exams but you can manage to answer 1 to 2 mark questions with ease. If you are unable to do a question, leave it and get back to it later. As mentioned earlier do focus to maintain a legible and neat answer sheet.

Finally, as you are done with the exams do not be in a hurry to leave. Utilise this time to cross-check the answers and attempt questions you found difficult.

Apart from the above-mentioned tips, always keep in mind that getting more than 90% is not an easy feat. You have to work hard and keep your focus. Try to go light on social media, if possible do not use it during the final 3 months as it can be a very time-consuming activity.

Put these tips to practice and you can score very well for the exams.

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starks-hero · 3 years

Text

Right a Wrong

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You, Sam and Bucky get to work repairing Sam’s family boat. Turns out the boat isn’t the only thing in need of fixing. But with help from you and Sam, Bucky figures some stuff out.

Word Count: 3,745

Warnings: a bit of a make-out session but not enough to be classed as smut, tfatws spoilers! 1x05

a/n: This is a direct result of watching episode 5 too many times. Spoilers below!

|| Part Two ||

Small waves lapped gently against the dock and the afternoon sun warmed your back as you worked on the old boat.

You were standing side by side with Bucky, crowbar in hand as you attempted to pry off the old metal cleats from the boats side, whilst he expertly pulled rusted pipes apart and threw them into a pile. As if on queue, one of the pipes on the opposite side of the ship burst, hissing and spurting out white clouds of steam. You marvelled at how quickly Bucky reacted, quickly crossing the deck and sealing the leak with an abrupt upward turn of the pipe with his metal arm.

"Where did you learn so much about fixing boats?" You teased, motioning to the now fixed pipe with your crowbar. Bucky dusted off his hands.

"I used to work on the docks in Brooklyn before the war." He shrugged, rolling up his sleeves to the elbow and taking a seat on a crate next to you. "I picked up a few things."

He furthered his point by leaning over and pulling at the cleat you'd been grappling with. It came away from where it was attached to the boat's side with ease in Buckys iron grip. He smirked as he tossed the scrap aside and you rolled your eyes.

"Show off."

Bucky chuckled, sitting back as Sam stepped onto the boat. He was carrying a crate in one hand and shook his head when he noticed Bucky's smirk and your dismissive smile.

"Alright, you two." He placed the crate down and pulled out two green bottles, throwing one to Bucky and handing you the other. "Beer break."

Sam took a seat across from you both and you sighed as you opened your beer, raising it up to Bucky.

His annoyance was discredited by the fond smile that broke through his expression as he begrudgingly clinked his bottle with yours. You reached over and did the same with Sam as the three of you relaxed under the heat of the Louisiana sun.

"It's starting to look good," you noted as you glanced around the boat and Sam smiled.

"Yeah, it's coming together." He took a swig of his beer. "You know, Sarah and I were talking." He started and both you and Bucky glanced up at him. "And we could use the help. Don't suppose you two would consider staying around a while? Just till we get a lead on Karli."

The offer caused a noticeable smile to pull at your lips whilst Bucky shifted beside you at Sam's words. His agitation grew and he stood.

"I've got my plane to catch tomorrow, a hotel room for the night," he said, raising his bottle to his lips to hide his doubt. He really didn't have that much of a plan beyond that.

"You're just gonna set me up like that, huh?" Sam asked and Bucky shrugged.

"Well, I don't want to make it weird for your family."

"Just stay here," Sam said and you couldn't help but nod subconsciously. The truth was you really didn't really want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's and spending the day fixing up an old run-down family boat that made everything seem so normal. It gave you a sense of home, a sense of normality that you hadn't had in a long time. For a while, it even made you forget about the flag smashers, Walker, all of it. It was a much-needed break.

"The people in this town are the most welcoming in the world. They don't care if you wear small t-shirts or if you've got six toes or if your mom is your aunt-"

You laughed and Bucky barely hid a chuckle behind a huff of breath and a bright smile.

"Okay, I get it. The people are nice."

You placed your bottle aside and turned to Sam.

"You're sure Sarah doesn't mind?" you asked and Sam's smile only widened.

"She's the one that offered."

Grinning, you sat back and nodded. "Then I don't see why not."

"See?" Sam pointed to you and then Bucky. "Just stay, man."

Bucky shuffled his feet for a moment before finally answering with a begrudging, "Okay. Alright." He didn't say anything else as he turned and walked down the boat.

"He'll come around. He probably just wants his space." You said, picking up your beer. Sam nodded, taking a swig of his own drink.

"I hope you're right."

You woke up feeling more refreshed than you had in a while. Your hands and back hurt slightly from the tiring work on the boat, but it was a dull ache compared to the constant throbbing that came after a mission. Your cheeks were warm, surely as a result of the hours spent out in the sun the day before.

Both you and Bucky stayed the night. Sarah had offered you the spare room and after a solid fifteen minutes of bickering, you finally conceded to Bucky and agreed to sleep in the guest bed. He took the couch.

The sun was just beginning to rise up over the water when you and Bucky both headed back out to the boat. Sam joined you not long after. You worked until mid-afternoon, reluctantly taking short breaks. You fell into a quick rhythm as you worked around the boat. Surprisingly, the three of you seemed to make a pretty decent team off of the battlefield.

"Hey, can you pass me a 12-300?" Sam asked from under the boat's control panel. Bucky reached into the toolbox and placed the wrench in Sam's outstretched hand. A few seconds later Sam was rolling out from under the controls and glaring disapprovingly at Bucky.

"What?"

"I asked for a 12-300," Sam stated plainly. "This is a 10-250."

"No, it's not." Bucky bit back.

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not!"

"Hey, geniuses." You cut their bickering short as both men turned to look at you. You held up the grease-slick wrench that had been misplaced and tossed it to Sam. "You left it below deck when you were working on the engine."

Sam muttered a quiet 'thanks' as he got back to work. Silence settled over the three of you for a few minutes until Sam decided it was getting awkward.

"So, are you still planning on leaving tonight?" He asked from under the station and Bucky nodded, before realising Sam couldn't see him.

"Yeah," he said loud enough for Sam to hear. "I'll be out of your way soon."

You could hear Sam's sigh from beneath you as he clambered back to his feet and stood between you and the super-soldier leaning against the wall of the cabin.

"Well, there's no hurry."

Sam didn't say anything else as he cleaned the oil and grease from his hands with a cloth and stepped off the boat. Bucky sighed and let his head fall back behind him.

"Go," you ordered plainly and he looked up at you.

"What?"

"Go," you said again, nodding your head towards where Sam was walking away. "You both need to talk. Bucky, whatever you're not saying, it's getting to you. So go talk to him."

Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He glared at nothing in particular but his gaze softened when it found you and he muttered a quiet, 'fine.' You stepped aside as he made his way past you and stepped up onto the dock, heading after Sam.

"And don't be a smart ass!" You called after him. He didn't reply, but you could only hope that Sam and Bucky's conversation would be somewhat constructive.

"Nice shot!" You retrieved the football from the back of the goal as Cass, Sam's eldest nephew, celebrated his score.

Once Sam and Bucky had left the boat, you had headed back to the house, helping Sarah with any errands or chores, doing anything you could to help out. Sam and Bucky had been gone a little over an hour and you didn't know if that meant their talk was going very well or very not. You'd been sitting rather uselessly on the couch, waiting in anticipation, when Sam's nephews had invited you to play a game of football. And how could you refuse?

You tossed the ball back to the boys who eagerly pounced at it. You were stood in the small goal, allowing both boys to take as many shots as they wanted. AJ stepped forward and kicked the ball, groaning when it flew off to the left, a few meters away from where you were standing and missed the net entirely. He glanced down at the ground, disheartened.

“Hey, it's alright, AJ.” You smiled as you ran to grab the ball and passed it back to him. “Come on, try again.”

With encouragement from his brother, he took the shot and this time the ball planted itself in the top corner of the goal. Both boys cheered as they celebrated and you smiled. You dusted yourself off, your knees and hands covered in dust from the football game as you turned to head back inside the house. Both boys protested as you left but you promised them you'd be back. The more time you spent with AJ, Cass, Sam and Sarah, the more you didn't want to leave. There was something about staying with the Wilson's that made you feel content. It was homely and offered a sense of normality that the last few weeks had caused you to miss.

You entered the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of water. Sarah had told you over and over again to help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter, glass in hand and just basked in the feeling of not having to worry about donning a suit and risking your life at a moments notice. It was something you could get used to.

“That was adorable.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of a voice and you found Bucky joining you in the kitchen. He was smirking fondly.

“You and the boys.”

You chuckled softly and shrugged. “They're sweet kids.”

Bucky nodded, pulling a glass of his own from the shelf and filling it with water from the tap. It furthered the sense of domesticity that you were really starting to love. He took a seat at the table across from you.

“So,” you started as you placed your own glass aside. “How did it go? You and Sam.”

Bucky chuckled and you couldn't tell if it was sarcastic or genuine, but something about the grin that lingered on his lips had you banking on the latter.

‘‘Not bad,” he admitted eventually with a shrug. He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We talked. He said if I'm going to fix anything, if I'm going to get what's left of him out of my mind.” Bucky subconsciously ran his hand across his temple. “I'm going to have to put in the work. Help the people I wronged instead of just saying sorry.”

You nodded, silently making a note to thank Sam later on. He always had a way with words, he could always get through to people. That's why he was given the shield.

“He's got a point.”

Bucky scoffed and hung his head at your words. “I should have known you'd be on his side.” There was no hostility in his words. He just sounded amused, and maybe a little tired.

“I don't think this comes down to whose side I'm on, Bucky. We both want what's best for you.” You answered honestly and Bucky glimpsed up at you. He anxiously toyed with his hands as you spoke, looking vulnerable, and slightly lost despite how hard he tried to hide it. You knew Sam had already spoken to him, but it couldn't hurt for you to say something as well.

“Look Bucky, telling yourself that you're okay and that everything that happened doesn't matter anymore because you've made 'amends' isn't going to help.”

He sighed, shuffling his feet against the tiles of the kitchen floor. “I know,” he admitted quietly.

“And I know you're probably tired of hearing this but, you're not him anymore, Bucky. You're not the winter soldier. Everything you did whilst you were him wasn't your choice. Just because you remember it doesn't mean that it was your fault. It's not your responsibility to fix it.”

Bucky sighed but didn't interrupt. He was listening. This wasn't like the therapist that he was forced to sit in front of and lie to every other week. This was someone he trusted, someone whose words he valued. Someone he honestly believed could help. He sighed but nodded to show that he was still listening.

“I think Sam’s right,” you said. “It might not be your responsibility to fix everything that went wrong but trying could help. It could give you that closure that you keep chasing after. You need to let go, Bucky. You need to forgive yourself. Maybe you just need the people who are hurting to forgive you first. Then you can learn how to do the same.”

Bucky's expression was unreadable. So many emotions flashed across his eyes you found it difficult to pinpoint just one.

“How do I start?” he asked quietly. It just seemed impossible. There were so many people he'd hurt, so many people he'd wronged. He'd left children as orphans, wives as widows and parents childless. How could he possibly start trying to fix or make all those people feel in any way better?

You smiled softly at his question. “Small. One at a time,” you said simply. “Then just keep putting one in front of the other.”

Bucky considered your words, glancing down at his hands as he thought. Before long, a small smirk pulled at his lips.

“I can't decide who'd make a better therapist. You or Sam,” he joked and you laughed, shaking your head dismissively.

“Well, Sam did council veterans so I think he takes that title.”

“I'd say it's pretty tied,” Bucky said, walking across the kitchen and standing next to you as he washed his glass, drying it off and placing it back on the shelf. The room fell into a comfortable silence.

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said after a moment, his tone sincere and his expression genuine as he looked at you. You nodded, gently placing your hand against his shoulder.

“Don't mention it. You know I'm always here if you need to talk.”

The sound of a football colliding with the wall dangerously close to the window followed by two voice's loudly shouting, 'sorry!' in unison drew a quaint laugh from you both.

“Duty calls.” You grinned, patting Bucky on the back as you passed him. “Team Wilson is missing its goalkeeper.”

Bucky chuckled, watching you go. You crossed the kitchen but his voice stopped you just as your hand reached the doors handle.

“Y/N?”

You turned back around to face him and couldn't help but notice that he seemed a little more apprehensive than he had before.

“Yeah?”

He exhaled slowly, willing himself to tell you what was on his mind.

“I was just thinking things over and you know, I’m leaving today,” he hesitated slightly before glancing up at you. “And I guess I was wondering if you’d come with me?”

Your hand slipped from where it was still holding the brass handle of the door. You tilted your head as your mind fully processed his question. The shock must have been evident in your expression as Bucky rushed to continue.

“I know you're planning on staying here and I get why.” He pulled a tattered red book from his pocket which you immediately recognized as Steve’s. He began absentmindedly turning the pages, running his fingers over the paper. “I want to try and start fixing things, making things right. But truth is I have no idea where to start. I thought that maybe you could help me with that?”

“I thought you wanted your space," you admitted after a moment.

“No.” He shook his head. “That's the last thing I want.”

You thought it over, resting your back against the door. Bucky trusted you, evidently a lot more than you thought he did. Not only was he comfortable enough telling you how he felt and admitting he didn't know what to do next. But he also wanted you with him. It was clear he was holding back, not wanting to overwhelm you by admitting just how badly he wanted you to go with him. But the way he eagerly watched you as he waited patiently for your answer was a dead give away.

You wanted to help Bucky, you wanted to be there for him. If that meant helping him right his wrongs and staying with him during that trying time, at least until Sam got a lead on Karli and the Flag Smashers, then you were more than happy to comply.

“You're sure about this?” you asked and Bucky pushed off the counter and crossed the room, stopping just in front of you.

“Absolutely.” His voice dropped down to a hushed whisper. “Come with me.” His hand gently caught your wrist, his fingers running up your arm. His face was inches from yours now, your breaths mingling. “Please?”

His lips pressed to yours before you could answer and you immediately kissed back. Your hand fell against his shoulder, the other laying gently against the nape of his neck. He groaned quietly against you, his arms finding your waist as he gently guided you backwards till your back met the wall. He pressed into you, his hands roaming up your body and you moaned as he deepened the kiss.

“Yes.” You answered when he pulled away slightly and he smiled against you, relieved. Neither of you said anything else as Bucky sighed and pulled you closer, his thigh slipping between your legs as he pinned you to the wall.

God, he'd wanted to do this for so long. Wanted to kiss you, to feel you against him. He wanted you. Your hand slipped into his hair and you pulled him closer, smirking against him. You'd wanted this just as bad. And you both only had your own stubbornness to blame for taking so damn long. It didn't matter now though. Not as he gently bit down on your lower lip and you slipped your hand under his shirt and felt up his chest. It all felt so natural, so right.

“Ten minutes.”

Both your eyes flew open at the all too familiar voice, Bucky pulling away from you so quickly he only barely avoided falling over a nearby chair.

“I left you two alone to talk for ten minutes,” Sam repeated from where he was standing on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. You tried to subtly smoothen out your clothes whilst Bucky ran his hand through his tangled hair.

“We were,” Bucky said, clearing his throat. “We were talking. We...talked.”

Sam nodded, entirely unconvinced, and smirked. He reclined against the counter, showing no sign of leaving anytime soon. A painfully awkward silence settled over the kitchen as Sam continued to shift his knowing stare from you to Bucky.

The humiliation of the entire situation seemed to get to Bucky first as he clasped his hands together after less than a minute.

“You know, what? I'm leaving in a few hours and I've got to pack so I better just go-” Bucky rambled as he shot you a subtle apologetic look before turning to Sam, who was nodding along in faux agreement to his pathetic attempt of an excuse.

Bucky quickly crossed the kitchen, Sam harshly patting him on the back as he passed him and left the room. Leaving just you and Sam alone. You turned to your friend and found that he was still grinning at you with that same mischievous look in his eyes. You felt like a deer in headlights. In an attempt to act as though Sam hadn't just walked in on you and Bucky making out, you tried making normal conversation.

“Sam, there was actually something I wanted to tell you. I know I said I was going to stay for a while but I guess there's been a change of plan. I-”

“I know.” He cut you off and his smile only widened when you looked at him in utter confusion. “You honestly think he would have asked you to go with him if I didn't tell him to get his shit together first?”

Your confusion slowly melted away and was replaced with a look of disbelief. You laughed despite yourself. You should have known Sam had something to do with it. ‘‘How long have you been playing cupid?” you asked jokingly and Sam chuckled.

“He needs you, Y/N. More than he wants to admit,” Sam said, tone now more serious than before. “Things will be fine here, I'll call you as soon as Torres finds us something to work with. But right now, he needs your help before that hole he's stuck in gets too deep for him to climb out of.”

You sighed as the weight of Sam's words set in. He was right, Bucky really did need you. That wasn't a responsibility you could afford to take lightly. Not that you planned to.

“Thanks, Sam,” you said genuinely and Sam smirked as he crossed the room and pulled you into a hug. He could tell you needed it.

“Anytime.” He pulled away and offered you a warning glare. “But I swear, if you two making out the minute I turn my back becomes a regular thing I'm going to kick both your asses.”

“Got it,” you nodded, barely stifling a laugh.

Sam's scowl melted into a smile and he motioned towards the stairs. “Go on, get your things together. You've got a plane to catch in a few hours.”

You smiled and headed upstairs after Bucky. Sam leaned against the counter with his arms crossed and a satisfied smile. Getting you two together had taken more work than he'd thought. But he knew it would be worth it, you both needed each other. Whether you were willing to admit it or not. And Sam was confident that if there was anyone that could help Bucky and offer him that sense of home and peace that he was so desperately craving, it was you.

tag list: @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove @doozywoozy @kealohilani-tepise

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes #tfatws spoilers #tfaws #tfatws x reader #platonic!sam x reader #sebastian stan x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fic #marvel x reader #1k

2K notes · View notes

baroquebucky · 3 years

Text

the 5 love languages

in which you and bucky love each other, in every and any love language possible

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a/n: hi hi guys !! hope u all enjoy this i went overboard again srry for any typos !! :]

Bucky loved you. He loved everything about you. He loved the way you dressed, the way you cooked, the way you laughed, the way you talked. He loved every aspect of you, even when you were cranky and would stomp away from him in a fit of anger, he loved you.

You loved Bucky. You loved everything about him, the way he bit his lip when he was frustrated, the way he leaned on everything when he was standing, how his eyes would crinkle when he smiled, how he would take deep breaths when he was upset about something. You loved every aspect of him, even when he would try to shut you out and deal with things on his own.

1) gift giving

“I’ve read all the reviews it’s supposed to be so good, i hope it isn’t overhyped or ill be really upset” you pouted, setting some brownies on a plate for Bucky, putting the plate in his hand without him even asking. He smiled, thanking you silently.

“it looked good from the trailer you showed me” he spoke, eyes trained on the brownies in hand, he just wanted to eat them already.

“buck i baked the brownies for you, eat them” you laughed softly and he blushed, immediately going for a bite, chewing for a second before stopping.

“that bad huh?” You joked, about to make another comment when he cut you off, shaking his head and swallowing his bite, going in for another right after. Within seconds the piece in his hand was gone.

“oh?” You grinned and threw his head back, moaning dramatically as he finished eating the piece.

“this is the best brownie I’ve ever had in my whole life” he spoke, his face serious as he stated you in the eyes, getting up and kissing your face all over.

“Bucky!” You laughed, shoving him slightly, a smile on his face.

“I know you said you didn’t want anything but i saw this at the store and-” Bucky began, knowing you were gonna be upset he bought you something when you told him the brownies were just out of love.

“James!” You scolded him, trying to look angry but failing as a smile creeped onto you face, eyes landing on the bag he held in his hand.

“Cmon baby you’ll love it” you let out a sigh, a grin playing on your lips as you opened the bag, eyes landing on a pretty notebook and your grin grew wider.

“i know you said you wanted to start journaling so” he motioned to the book and you smiled, cheeks hurting.

“thank you bucky i love it” you kissed his cheek before setting the notebook on the table, sitting on the couch next to him and turning on the movie.

Bucky always bought you little things, he loved visiting antique shops and almost every time he brought back something to give you. His excuse being one of three:

“it was too cute to not get!”

“it made me think of you and so i had to get it”

“i figured i could have it as decoration or you would find some use for it”

You told yourself next time he bought you a gift you wouldn’t take it, and every time your heart melted at his actions and you couldn’t help it.

You would be a hypocrite, considering how often you also bought bucky little things. Getting his his favorite snacks and fruit, buying him shirts and jackets when you went shopping because you knew he’d been wanting some, getting him small decoration items because he wanted to decorate his apartment and buying him candles knowing he loved having his apartment smell nice.

2) acts of service

You and Bucky could either have nothing to do or have no time to breathe, no in between.

Bucky loved helping you when you were stressed, he loved knowing he was helping you stress out less.

He would help you with anything he could, cooking for you, helping you with your work, helping with daily chores so you wouldn’t have to worry about them and you could focus on your tasks.

You loved helping Bucky when he was busy. Being an avenger was tough work and you knew how exhausted bucky would get. You just wanted him to relax when he had the chance.

You would buy his groceries along with yours when has barely returned from a mission, bruised and battered, making him breakfast in bed and stocking his fridge and pantry. You would help clean up his wounds, scolding him when he didn’t want to, saying he would be fine and he just wanted to cuddle you.

When you were both busy you still found ways of helping each other, always trying to decrease the others load, wanting nothing but happiness for each other.

3) quality time

When you both had nothing but time you spent it together. Doing work silently, watching movies or tv shows, baking and cooking together, playing board games, anything you could think of.

Both of you loved going out to the park, walking hand in hand and enjoying the cool breeze, sitting down to watch the sunset and smiling at each other when he was caught staring at you.

You would have some spare painting supplies lying around from the time you had a bob ross night with the team, gathering them up and painting with Bucky for the night.

40’s music filling the air as the two of you talked and painted, ignoring everything except each other.

4) physical touch

Bucky was touch starved, he wanted to be held and loved.

And you did just that.

You peppered Bucky in kisses, holding hand and playing with hair, cuddling him any chance you got. You would sit next to him and lay your head on his chest, letting him wrap his arm around you and pull you closer.

Bucky would always be holding you, having his hand on your thigh while he drove or hold your hand when you went out together, sometimes just linking your pinkies together. He would drape and arm around your waist when you slept next to him, holding you securely and protecting you from the world.

Bucky loved running his fingers through your hair, braiding it absentmindedly at times, kissing your forehead when he finished.

He loved kissing you. Placing sloppy kisses all over your face because he loved hearing you giggle, quieting you with a gently kiss on your lips before pulling away and wrapping you in his arms.

You would hold Bucky when he was upset, running your fingers through his hair and kissing the top of his head. You would let him be the little spoon at times and hold him tightly, making sure he knew you weren’t gonna leave him.

5) words of affirmation

Bucky needed reassurance sometimes and that was okay, you were more than happy to tell him how much you loved him.

“you’re doing amazing bucky I’m so proud of you” you would tell him, looking him in the eyes and pulling him into your arms.

“i love you so much lovebug, you mean so much to me” he would stare at the ground, refusing to believe how lucky he was. But you would always gently lift his face, look him in the eyes and assure him that you loved him.

Sometimes he would have a rough day on a mission, he would be upset and cranky, ending your calls short as opposed to his usual bubbly and excited ones that could go on for hours. You would send him some texts, hoping to boost his mood

i love you and i know you’re doing your best

im proud of you, can’t wait for you to come home to me <3

Bucky loved them, his mood always lifting after reading them.

He would always reassure you, when you were sad, upset or just in a bad mood. He would remind you how much he loved you and how proud he was of you, telling you how far you’d come and how much you’d achieved.

“you’re so amazing and so talented angel, you can get through this” he told you, helping you get through the absurd amount of work you had.

When he was away for long periods of times he would have letters he left for you, telling you to open them on certain days so you wouldn’t miss him too much. Writing to you and telling you how much he loved you, wishing he was there to tell you himself.

Sometimes you got in your head after arguing, Bucky was always there to help you out.

“do you still love me” you whispered, eyes red and teary. You had argued an hour ago and had yet to speak to each other, giving yourselves space to calm down.

Bucky was upset, but he immediately softened at your words, moving to sit next to you and pull you into his chest, stroking your hair softly so you could calm down.

“you’re mine angel, you have me forever” he whispered, “of course i love you baby, nothing is ever gonna change that, especially not one argument.”

You both apologized, talking everything out and spending the night cuddled up. Bucky telling you how much he loved you and you telling him all he meant to you.

Five languages of love.

You thought you would only speak one, maybe two.

Bucky thought he could never learn to speak any again.

You were both wrong.

When it came down to your love for bucky and his love for you, both of you spoke all five languages, and you spoke them well, never failing to remind the other just how much you loved them.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes fanfic #Bucky imagine #soft Bucky Barnes

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Note

May I request a Childe X Reader fanfic where the reader has been pushing herself too hard lately and so Childe has to forcefully get her to rest? ty

By my side [Childe x Reader]//Genshin Impact

Synopsis: You were an artist and he was an adventurer. Two people from vast backgrounds and Childe just wants to spend some time of his busy life with you. However, things didn't really go his way...at first.

(Childe x F!reader. Its all fluff)

(A/n): Perfect request anon. I too, would like to have a Childe in my life. Been getting 5-6 hours of sleep on average 😃😁. Yeah kind tossed some extra ideas with artist s/o, its a perfect reason for anyone to be busy.

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Once recieving the permission to take a week off from his diplomatic duties, the first thing Childe thought of was none other than his lovely significant other.

The harbinger knew quite well what lays ahead of his ventures to Liyue. During his quest for the archon's gnosis, he encountered many interesting events, such as meeting the rumoured traveller hailing from afar and a broke yet courteous man who turned out to be the ultimate ruler of this very country he walks upon then there was the battle against a dead god until he revived it using the sigil of permission. All of them were great additions to his story as Ajax the hero, something he always wanted to pursue since childhood. In which, also gave him something nice to write about when preparing letters for his siblings living back home. But little did the harbinger know that he'll one day bump into the heroine. A little too soon. Through your little art shop, he met you, a sweet and audacious woman with plenty of humour. That was how it all began.

While he strides down the streets between Liyue's exquisite buildings, Childe suddenly stops in his tracks and looks up to the sky. There, was painted a scenery of an evening dusk, sun rays relfected across until red and orange hues cast a river stream that led to the ends of the world. He watched the birds follow that streak like it was a path made for them to fly towards. A new adventure. You would have loved to captured this in your pictures.

And then he wonders, what might you be painting right now?

"Hey babe, I'm home~"

In a sing-song voice he calls out to you by your nick-name. You knew that Childe was an active member of the Fatui and that his time was limited, hence he made sure to write to you as well. Of course long distant relationships only makes the waiting more anticipated. When he does pay a visit, you'd run straight into his open arms, leaping off your feet to engulf him in one enourmous embrace. Then his hands will hold against your waist as he spins your round and around in the air, stealing the laughter out of your lungs before planting you back on the floor. Sometimes Childe would consider that being far away wasn't be such a bad idea as long as he was able to experience this, the harder the battle, the sweeter the victory. However...

"That's great."

He was met by a response similar to the wintry grace of Snezhnaya.

Huh?

All the fantasies he had from earlier shatters in the background as he stands there frozen. You didn't even spare a glance to the entrance, eyes still glued to the large canvas displayed at your front, too busy to even care. Childe clicks his tongue between the awkward silence with an uncertain expression. When there was no signs of initiation on your part, he shuffled his way to where you were and observes from behind.

"Well you're particularly quiet today," he muses to himself, placing a hand over his hip, "I guess that painting of yours must be really important then."

It was obvious that he was trying to nudge you into his favour. Something that you've found endearing was how quickly your boyfriend can be when he's in a needy state. So you quickly twisted over to peck him on the cheek before going back to work.

"That's better," Childe satisfiedly grins, "So who is this project for?"

"It's a commission requested by a wealthy family serving the Qixing. They're really influential in terms of the market and can really give me a competitive edge. I have to get it done in five days."

His tone flactuates as he squints his eyes, "Five days you say," he disliked the news of your schedule taking over his own, Childe only managed to take a week off and after that, he'll be away for quite some time, "Why don't you take a break? From the looks of your progress, it seems to me that you've been working on it for hours. I've got plenty of interesting stories to tell and you know, nothing can compare to sharing a warm meal within your company," he leans down to your ear level, "How does that sound?"

Several seconds went by as he waits for some sort of reaction, "Oh. Right," you blurted out and the harbinger only smiles, "I made some food earlier this morning. You can go help yourself if you're hungry."

Today was not his day.

Childe pulls out the wooden chair and slumps into the seat, a defeated huff escaping his mouth as he stared at the crystal shrimp placed on the table. It was hastily wrapped by plastic, most likely cold for a while, just like the romantic evening he had planned in his head. Normally you'll be sitting on the otherside while listening to the many tales he went through along the way. Although painting was your passion, it was undeniable that you also enjoyed his kind of lifestyle if you ever had the choice. He was rather surprised on how someone ambitious like him would end up with such a simplistic person but quickly accepted it as life was meant to be unpredictable, just the way he likes it. As Childe entertains you with his stories, he'll listen to your giggles amidst eating the homecooked meals that you both prepared together.

"I wonder if she ate already," he mumbled to his lone self. You most likely did but Childe knows you well. Artists are obsessed and they can go as far as to neglecting their own health for the sake of their masterpieces. Hence, he made sure to remind you to eat properly through the letters he wrote to you.

The harbinger takes a quick glance around the kitchen. It was a mess. The cupboards were slightly opened, metal pots were still displayed on the stone stove and the stench coming from the sink....

Childe pushes himsel up to see what was the cause.

Not even the dishes were washed.

Running his fingers through his bangs, he sighs wearily, "Old habits die hard huh?" And above all else, when artists are obsessed they also forget how disorganized they can become. Childe begins to roll up his sleeves before taking off his gloves. At times like this he'll have to pitch in and take care of it for you, "Looks like I'll be here for a while."

Throughout three sunsets and three moonrises, Childe had no option but to observe you from afar, minus the few attempts he made to regain your attention again. How you would go to bed much later than him, waking up before he opens his eyes and the effort he put into making your food only left with too many leftovers. It wasn't that you were unappreciative, instead, your mind had become too focused that your body was considered a second priority. Like anyone else, Childe genuinely thought you possessed great talent and supports you wholeheartedly. He loved it when you painted pictures just for him as if they were scenes coming out of his hero story, reminded by his adventures, capturing every detail. However he also needed to learn how to deal with this stubborn side of yours.

"Hey babe, I just finished preparing our dinner. Don't you smell that? Such a rich aroma, you should go eat."

"I'm busy."

Your diet were just small bites, the rest being substituted by coffee. Childe could clearly tell that you weren't getting enough sleep either as there were dark circles forming underneath your eyes and slowly, he was starting to become a little irritated.

Three hours passed midnight but you were still awake in the same place doing the same thing. Childe leans against the doorframe with arms folded, already changed into his sleeping clothes. He clears his throat to break the silence, "Ahem."

Your wrist hangs in mid air by the sound of a strange visitor, it was your boyfriend. Gaze in a daze, you lazily turned your head, "What time is it?"

"Way passed the sleeping hours as you can see," he points with his thumb at the table clock in a half-hearted manner, "You should already be in bed by now and don't think you can coax yourself out of the situation this time," his eyes parted in slits as he added with a smile, "Otherwise I might just have to force you myself."

You shook your head, "Give me one more hour? There's some finishing touches I really want to add so," clasping your hands together, you beamed sweetly, "Pretty please? I'll finish up soon."

"Oh really?" Childe challenges, head tossed back like he was interrogating you instead, "I believe that was also what you told me yesterday. And the day before? Adding up all of those days that would be.....four in total?" He deliberately counts upon his fingers before facing you again, this time his expression was slightly more serious, "As much as I find your determination remarkable, there are moments when you need to consider a sufficient amount of rest and this just isn't going to cut it."

"Four days already?!" You exclaimed, "Jeez, I don't even know if I'm halfway done."

Pressing his lips together, Childe glares in an acutely deadpanned countenance, it was also his time too, "Can't you ask this commissioner to extend your due date to next week? In your case, mora shouldn't be the issue since, well...you're dating me anyways."

It's true. Childe was the main reason why you didn't have to live as a starving artist. He had all your expenses fully covered from the marketing aspect to your residence, you simply chose to work out of pure will.

"I don't want to always rely on you so much," you confessed, "This commissioner could turn my whole career around. If I'm able to gain his favour, maybe I'll get promoted to a court painter for the Qixing! Who knows when there will ever be a chance like this again," pumping your fists, you spoke purposefully, "I'll pull an all nighters if I have to!"

Childe brings his hand to his forehead, you looked as if you were nearly about to collapse and yet still considering the option of an all-nighters? The harbinger should've detained you days prior before.

"Hm? Childe, what's wrong?" He suddenly falls deadly quiet and you watched him walk closer towards you, "What are--"

Hooking an arm behind your knees and the other at your back, your boyfriend lifts you up in one full swoop as he tossed you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Guess we'll have to do things the hard way," he remarks cheerfully.

"W-Wait," you flailed your arms and kicked your legs but to no avail. Childe was an experienced combatant indeed, "Put me down! I have work to do."

Your protests fall upon deaf ears as the harbinger carries you to your room. You were oddly lighter than the last time he carried you, the strength less vigor than before, it was obvious that your body was in need of relaxation. He suddenly thinks there was a possibility that you would maintain this habit while he was absent.

I should probably visit more often.

Using his free leg to nudge the door open, he places you upon the shared bed in a gentle manner. You winced at the impact of the soft sheets, surprised by how much it affect you.

"There we go. All done. Man, you really are a stubborn one, aren't you. Makes me a little worried since I can't spoil you all the time."

He quickly invited himself to the empty space on your bedside and wrapped his arms around your figure, pulling you close and feeling you whole. Childe made sure there was no escape once putting his chin above your hairline so that you could feel his warmth as much as possible.

"This is--" you stuttered. His tactic was enough to make your limbs soften and you could almost hear him smirk into the distance, "This is cheating..."

"You think so?" He comments as if pledging innocence, "I don't know babe. Where I come from those who take the initiative are the ones who end up claiming the prize," pulling back, Childe takes the opportunity to observe your pouty face, "I don't make the rules. It's just how it goes."

You wanted to argue back but he suddenly took the bedsheets and covered both of your bodies with, completely trapping you with his presence. He snuggles into you further as if you were a bear made of linen and you felt the drowsiness taking over your mind. The way he gently pats down the back of your head was enough to instantly lull you into a deep sleep.

"Cheater," you mumbled.

He laughs softly, the rumbles emitting through his chest, "I love you too babe."

Even after you've let go of your resistance, Childe continues his actions until he was sure that you were resting. He had been longing to touch you like this since living a chaotic life only made peaceful moments much sweeter, "You're such a hard-worker you know that? I'm proud of you but you have to know when to call it a day," he whispers, "If not, how can I go on trips while knowing that you're still refusing to eat properly?"

You closed your eyes and said nothing in return. All your senses were too cloudy to come up with a reassuring response. Childe listens to the way your breath evens as you intake his scent during the process. It smelled like the soap you used in the showers, lotus leaves mixed with his own unique musk. You could only focus on him. His comforting embrace. His slightly accelerating heartbeat because you were together with him.

Letting out one final yawn, you succumbed to his spell and allowed your energy to drift away.

The corners of his lips tug upwards, "Sleep well princess."

Childe reaches over to your desk drawer and shuts off the alarm clock before turning over to face you again. He couldn't fall asleep immediately, not when he had to consider taking care of the commissioner who gave you an impossible deadline. But that will be saved for another day, for now, he observes in silent serenity.

If he were to quit his job for a year, what would his life be like?

Peaceful. Something opposite of what he was living right now. Something similar to the life he had back home. As you arrange the many paintings in your little home, he'll offer to help you among the places you couldn't reach. Without a doubt, Childe was far taller in comparison. Taking strolls into the streets and trying the new dishes the merchants came up with. Then in the evenings, you'll both go to dinner dates while listening to the storyteller revealing the rumours of the legendary Tianquan Qixing. Although Childe loved the adventurous life he led, he had to admit that your domesticity and family-bringing atmosphere was a tempting idea.

Maybe one day.

He lightly takes a strand that had fallen over your nose and tucked it smoothly behind your ear. The soft snores coming out of your parted lips caused his gaze to melt. And so he steals them with his own, placing a chaste goodnight kiss.

One day I'll be sure to bring my family here with us.

Closing his eyes, he joins you in your slumber, hoping to see all that he envisioned in his dreams.

#genshin impact #childe x reader #childe genshin impact #genshin childe #childe #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia #genshin impact childe #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons

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sm-baby · 2 years

Text

Pumpkin Pie

Aight so! I made a fic a couple few months ago! I put waayy to much effort in trying to write it that I ended up procrastinating on it for a couple of months! I looked through my old drafts and saw that most of it was still in tact! So I figured I could sloppily edit a few things in and share it with ya’ll.

It contains a new villager that I loved and I must share her *gently holds* So you will have context if I ever get to draw her at some point!

Word count: 2,388 words 12,888 characters

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Emily Porter is a 24 yr old store clerk. She runs a small business in an area at the calm side of the village. Her store wasn't the busiest, it even gets rather quiet most of the time. But she found it in herself to bring a warm greeting to every customer who came in.

Recently, she's had a frequent enter her store in a routine manner. He introduced himself as "Montgomery" but invited most everyone to call him Monty. He hadn't stood out to her in any way at first.

He was a lovely fellow, at most, a little nosey. He’d always ask Emily about how her life was going as if he was meeting an old friend. He had a way of talking to people. One moment she was talking about work and the next she was talking about her recently deceased father.

Monty would come in every day for the past month. And every day he would ask for the same routine things.

5 Apples, 12 potatoes, and 15 carrots

At some point, Emily had started memorizing the order. Once he came in for a trade, Emily already had a basket with her.

“Good morning, Emily! Can I have uhm…” He hummed while looking at the menu. He hadn’t even noticed Emily’s amused smile. “Can I have 5 apples,-”

“--12 Potatoes, and 15 carrots!” Just before Monty could finish Emily had already pulled out a basket containing his beloved groceries! Emily chuckled. “Monty, Why do you even bother to look at the options when you’re just buying the same things anyway?”.

The man stared at her with a confused look. It's as if he hadn’t even noticed the pattern. Monty gasped “:0!! You are right!!”

This made Emily chuckle harder. “Such is the way of the Nitwit I guess!”

Moments later as Emily had already run up his order and as Monty went to reach for his Emeralds, Emily spoke.” Hey Monty, can I ask you something? You’ve been shopping there recently and you’ve been doing it consistently. Are you new in town? Did you move in?”

Monty paused.

“Sorry if it’s too personal or anything. I guess It’s just the least I can do… You have been asking me how my day’s been a lot; I- I- guess- I figured that I’d return the favor!”

Yet Monty beamed as if he was never asked that question before.“ I am new to this side of the village! I come to new places so I can be familiar with landmarks at times, and sometimes! I make new friends!”

“Hence the groceries!”

The look on the clerk’s face softened… She was glad that Monty was willing to open up to her. The look in his eyes when she asked was something worth melting for. She was happy she met this man… and she was very happy that he’s honest with her.

“So you’re a traveler.”

“ Traveller is a strong word, young lady! It is more like a vacation of sorts” as the basket hang from his arms he turned to leave, The door rang to close on his way out.

There goes that Montgomery off to do his…errands… Actually she doesn’t know what he does outside the shop… Monty hasn’t really opened up about what he does after hours. Emily could chuckle. He’s opening up though! Maybe soon she will learn what that man does in his spare time! She punched the air in excitement. Ah, another wonderful interaction with Montgomery.

‘Montgomery’...

She bit her lip. Why did she feel the need to whisper his name over and over..

Monty entered the store with some pep in his step. He was humming a random tune in his head and practically went in doing a little dance. “Emilyyyy~~!!” he hummed, excitedly ringing the counter bell at the side. A quick glance up though had him notice something that stole his attention

“Just a second!” yelled from the back rooms. She seemed to have been re-stocking some things. Quite frankly she seemed a little tired, her poor back was giving out on her despite her young age. She could really go for a massage or maybe a-

Wait a second

She knows that voice

“Monty!!” and just like that, her plans have changed. A quick peek from the doorway was enough for her to see the man looking up at the new item on the menu. Emily was excited that he saw it. She’s been waiting to talk about it with someone since yesterday. “Monty, Monty, Monty! How do! “

“Pumpkin pie? “

The clerk could barely hold in a squeal, she was practically hopping from where she was standing. “Yeah! Yeah yeah yeah! Uhm- look look! ” She lifted her belt and showed it to him. Flashing back was a badge made out of copper! Different from the original metal!

Monty whistled. “Wow! Ms. Porter is an apprentice now, I see!”

“Yes!!” Emily squealed. “Goodness, look at me now! Working hard to get here and working harder to be better!” Her hands were flailing! they started out slow but quickly changed to be much faster and frantic. It continued until she found it in herself to calm down.

Monty found it humorous. Emily was always quite silly

“Thanks for all the support, Monty...I mean it, I really do!”

“Do not thank me, thank yourself! You are the one who runs the store!”

Emily’s eyes softened. She could feel her chest feeling warm. Monty was admittedly right. Maybe she didn’t quite think that herself, but she took his word for it… She was flattered. Oh man, validation

Emily took a breath and stopped herself. She should really prepare Monty’s order.

As Emily was putting in the last couple potatoes, Monty stared from the counter. “ Emily, Is the reason why you wanted to become a farmer because you wanted to bake? You are the type to have a sweet tooth :0”

“What gave it away? Did I get too excited?” She giggled. “I always wanted to be a baker. But since dad left me this place, I felt the obligation to continue it, you know? Between fulfilling his wishes and following my dream, I'd choose him as my first priority.” she smiled sadly. ” Doesn’t mean that I’m not planning to pursue my dreams in the future, it’ll just take a little while longer.”

“And the pies? How is it going for you?”

“Aw man, it’s doing great!” Emily purred. “Mom used to teach me how to bake sweets when she was still alive! Rather Ironic that I ended up really liking pumpkin pie. I’d eat it every day if I could.” Her voice had started sounding bittersweet. Simply just talking about those experiences with someone was comforting to her.

Monty smiled and nodded his head.

Emily placed the basket on the counter. Ringing up his order. Monty didn’t waste a moment and went to get his emeralds. “Hey, uh, Monty I have a question?” she turned away from him, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. “Well- sounds more like an invitation more than anything else, but you know.”

“You know you can tell me anything.” Monty barely moved from his position.

“So.. you’re new in this side of town, hm?”

“Yes, indeed, that is correct :)”

“How about you and I.. Are you free tomorrow? I- we could spend the day together, get some lunch… I can show you around town if you’re up for it.

“Uhh…” That somehow broke the man’s demeanor a little. As soon as he got his Emeralds in his hands and turned to her, he could barely maintain eye contact. Which was quite the contrast compared to his usual fixated stare.

“It doesn’t have to be romantic, Monty! Trust me, it doesn’t have to be! I- I’d just love to know you outside of work you know? If that’s not too much to you that is “

“it doesn’t have to be romantic?”

“No, not if you’re uncomfortable with it. It doesn’t have to be a date at all.”

Though still having trouble, he managed to look her in the eyes. And he could feel his hands soften. Despite the fact that he never felt them grip in the first place.“Okay! Then yes! I would love a little tour Emily, Thank you!”

Time passes, and Emily had noticed that Monty had been visiting less and less. He's gone from coming every day to 1-2 days, to 2-4, to weekly, and soon he's just stopped altogether.

Was it something she said? Emily figured that-- because of the tour that night-- Monty might've grown acquainted with that side of town. He must have lost the motivation to visit. She hadn't thought that was the case! Monty even offered to walk her home! Emily thought that he could've at least come over for the last time to say goodbye-- or-- something or other!

Perhaps it was just too much to ask. Perhaps she did make it awkward for the two of them. Maybe she was just a little too forward or open.

The store had gotten just a little quieter than it used to. Of course, there were still a few customers coming by now and then, but a little bit of company could have been nice.

After a long day, the night has started to fall. The store clerk hadn't even noticed how late it was getting on her way home. Emily guessed that she deserved it after stocking all the items last minute... She should really start hiring some help for the store now that she thinks about it...

Before she could finish that thought, she heard the sounds of clip-clopping from behind her. What was a horse doing this late at night? The farmer turned back to try and get out of the way but was rather surprised to find Monty mounted atop it. He stopped right beside her and flashed one of his ol' charming smiles.

"Emily! Good morning!"

Emily was just taken aback. Perhaps not out of fright, but just in deep surprise...OH GOD HE CAN RIDE A HORSE.

She hadn't even noticed his blatantly wrong usage of the passage of time! So many things were running through her head, so many questions to ask, things to tell him. She was frantic, she was excited?? Nervous. PANICKED! So much so that she could barely open her mouth. Now that he was riding such a majestic being, he had an added charm to him that left her speechless. She was just flustered and frozen all in one spot.

"You- Y- Youuuu and.. You-.. HORSE.. Cool, very cool big horse. Horses are so c- coooolll...you're...........cool.." Emily, uh. Stammered.

"Thanks! Her name is 'Whiskey'!" Monty purred, giving the horse a loving pet.

Emily can't help but calm down at the sight. It was cute, she'll admit. Monty's familiar presence helped her relax at least a little bit.

"I rented her so I can say my final goodbyes."

"Final goodbyes?" Emily looked up at him, a tad bit caught off-guard. "...So you really aren't visiting here any longer, huh?"

Monty nodded. "I do not think I can tell you why, I am sorry."

"That's alright!” She felt her throat tighten ”I hope you had a nice time here, Monty!" She rubbed the back of her neck, losing eye contact with him. "I could only hope that we could run into each other another time." Emily started walking off, her smile feeling heavy. She didn't know why but she started to feel her heart sink. Monty wasn't moving an inch.

"Where are you going?"

Emily bit her lip. "Home! If you wanna come by you know where to find me!" It wasn't the fact that it was Monty in particular. She'd had enough experiences growing attached to people only for them to leave not long after. Emily's seeing the pattern and she figured that she might as well get this one out of the way. She hadn't even noticed that her walk was starting to get a little faster.

Monty was left behind her.

"Emily!"

Emily paused. Stopped dead in her tracks. Maybe she was overthinking the situation. Is she really going to waste a goodbye because she was feeling sorry for herself? She took a little breather, and without turning back, she spoke. "Yeah?"

The horse walked towards her, halting when they caught up. Monty placed a finger on his chin, and looked up. "Weren't you the one to say that you wanted to stay in touch? outside of work?? Hmmm????" That was extra even for him. She could see that he was trying to cheer her up.

It seemed to have worked. the bite on her lip softened. "Monty, Is this going where I hope this is going?"

"Do you want to come over? I can show you where my house is!"

Emily chuckled softly "Monty as much as how nice that would be, you caught me at a really late time."

"It will only be for one hour!! and if you are worried about going back home, Whiskey and I can escort you back!"

Emily smiled at him, giving him eyes that can only show trust. "1 hour."

Monty crossed his heart. Emily smiled and hopped aboard. She was mounted behind Monty and held him as tight as it was comfortable. The horse was fast, and she was having fun as much as she was terrified. She was confident that she was safe. Monty seemed to be in control of the situation and she didn't mind that one bit.

Nick Thomas is a 26 yr old store clerk. He runs a business in an area on the crowded side of the village. His store was one of the busiest, it could barely find its own quiet. He hardly had the energy to bring a warm greeting to every customer who came in.

Recently, he's had a man enter his store. He introduced himself as "Montgomery" but invited most everyone to call him by Monty. He hadn't stood out to him in any way. He barely knew anything about him but his order. 5 apples, 12 potatoes, 15 carrots,

And a singular pumpkin pie.

#Emily #Emily Porter #Monty #Minecraft #mineblr #writing #Fic #fanfic #hehe Sharky has heard me cryin over this character once or twice Emily madame #As you can tell i had fun writing this

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hereforhalstead · 3 years

Text

Showtime - Part 2

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Part 2!

• Warnings: Swearing

• Summary: Part 2 of being undercover with Adam, despite being in a secret relationship with Jay. You can find Part 1 here..

• Words: 2353

• A/N : Part 3 coming shortly as I know not much happened here but needed a filler! Also, kind of wish I had wrote this as being undercover with Kevin as that man really doesn’t get the recognition he deserves, but I got inspo when Hailey was undercover with Adam so will have to be one for next time!

***

“What’s the hold up?” you jump as Voight’s rough voice booms from behind you “The mic was playing up so just had to get it fixed, Sarge” Jay responds for the pair of you as you nod in agreement “Right well let’s get going. Jay you’re with Kim and Y/N, Adam is waiting for you in the car outside. Let’s move” he instructs before stomping past you, leaving you and Jay stood in an awkward silence “Good luck” he sarcastically offers with a grin on his face, you find his confidence amusing considering the night he is in for but decide to go along with his humor “Thanks baby, but I don’t need luck”.

“Sarge, we need a code word to listen out for” Hailey speaks across the radio, you pick up the one hidden under Adam’s seat to respond “Mocktail”. Adam looks at you with his bottom lip out and nods “Hey, that’s a good one” he reassures and you place the back of your hand under your chin to gloat “thank you, thank you”.

As you approach the club, Voight pulls over into a nearby road to hang back and is soon followed by Jay pulling up behind him to park his truck “You head inside, I’ll leave it a few minutes and follow you in” he directs to Kim who tousles her hair before walking off. Adam stops the car next to Voight’s and you wind your window down to allow him to speak “Jay and Kim will be close by and Kev, Hailey and I will be listening in. Any sign of trouble and you get out or say the word and we will be there” he orders and you can feel Jay staring at you from the other side of Voight “Don’t leave her alone in there, can’t be bothered going through the process of getting another partner” he confesses to Adam with a chuckle, Voight glances at him with a stern look on your behalf “Are you still here?” he asks and you try to hide the smile that is spreading on your face at the change in Jay’s confidence “I’m going” he huffs and exits the car.

Adam drives slowly alongside Jay as he traipses along the side walk, still with the window wound down Adam leans across to speak out of your window “Make mine a double water with a side of Lemon, will you?” he grins but Jay isn’t entertained “Careful or I’ll replace it with worse” he threatens back with a sarcastic smile “No tip for you then” Adam tuts before putting his foot down to speed towards the club “Who’s pissed him off?” he questions but you choose not to answer.

You watch as Jay walks in the back entrance, giving you a look over his shoulder before heading in. Adam hands the keys over to the valet before giving him some speech about how expensive the car is and if there is so much as a scratch he will make him pay for it, how easily he slips into this kind of character is honestly baffling.. The poor man reassures Adam and drives to park the car, Adam turns to you and naturally slings his arm round your waist and settles his hand at the base of your spine to direct you. “You good?” he whispers in your ear and you nod “If you want to leave, just put your hand on my knee and I’ll make an excuse.” he calmly offers and it instantly helps calm any nerves you had, you had been undercover in clubs a few times but not with a group quite this dangerous so it would’ve been strange if you weren’t a bit on edge.

Your eyes instantly fix onto Jay who is stood behind the bar, pouring a drink and handing it to Kim. You’re not shocked to find he is already looking at you, slight worry in his eye as he chews the inside of his lip. One of his classic go to when he is anxious, you thought you were going straight to VIP but one of the men approach you and Adam first. Out of no where, a tall man in a black suit stands closely to Adam and that’s when you realise his ear piece and mic pinned to the collar of his shirt “Dan and Alice?” he asks and Adam is quick to offer his hand out to the man “that’s us, sir”. The man glances down to Adam’s hand but then ignores it, Adam returns his hand onto the small of your back with a grunt so quiet that only you could hear it. “This way, you’re late and they’re waiting for you”. He extends his arm to direct you to the VIP area “All due respect, they’re waiting on our money so we’re not in a rush” Adam jokes but the man remains stern “That’s quite the attitude you got there, he always like this sweetie?” he aims the conversation to you and you roll your eyes “Only when he doesn’t get what he wants, doesn’t happen often” you wink and notice the corners of his mouth flicker into a smile briefly before falling back to the scowl “Let’s get on with this then.” he walks round behind the pair of you, forcing you to walk ahead “What a nice guy” Adam mumbles to you, causing you to nudge his chest with your elbow as a warning “You deserved that” a voice speaks from behind you, a reminder he was hot on your heels and could hear everything you were saying “If you’ve got any other sarky comments, I suggest you get them out now because they’re not as forgiving”.

***

What seemed like a few hours had gone by and you well and truly felt like a spare part, sat on Adam’s lap as a mere trophy to impress the others. Joining in the conversation every now and then but apart from that, you remained quiet to offer a smile or the occasional sympathetic laugh. “You wouldn’t mind going to grab us some drinks, darlin’?” one of the men leans forward to you and hands you his empty glass. You don’t accept his gesture as you leave the glass in his hand and don’t make any effort to move “Isn’t that what the staff are for? Shit VIP area if you have to get your own drinks” you scoff and run your fingers through Adam’s hair “Be a good girl and run along, the men have some business to discuss” he winks and you instantly feel you could vomit. “Just grab us a bottle off the top shelf and some glasses, isn’t hard” Adam stares down the man before he taps your leg and places a kiss to your shoulder “Won’t be long baby, you might find some friends at the bar” you grimace a smile at him and huff as you stand from his lap, ensuring you pull down your dress to have some attempt in covering your ass as you head down the stairs.

Jay already has his eyes on you as you scan over to the bar, taking a mental note of where Kim’s stood and making your way over to her. You lean forward on the bar to Jay, knowing full well your chest is very much extenuated as he struggles to keep his eyes up “A bottle of your finest whiskey and 5 glasses, we’re in VIP so you can just bring them over. Thanks” you demand and hold up the VIP card you had been given to add to the tab.

“Doesn’t work that way angel, you take your own drinks. I’m not a server” Jay is quick to hit back, clearly enjoying his new role “Whatever, just get me the bottle and a shot of vodka” you put the card on his side of the bar and turn to lean your back on the bar and look towards Adam.

“Everything alright?” Kim quietly asks from beside you as Jay places the shot on the bar, you pick it up as quick as it is put down and drink it in one “Splendid”.

“Are you gonna take this, or?” Jay pipes up from behind you, you turn to look at him and he truly is a sight. Bar towel slung over his shoulder, shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows and a slight glisten on his skin “No you’re gonna bring it for me.” you smile and strut away from the bar. Jay looks over to Kim who tries to hide her smile in her hand as he rolls his eyes “Voight, never give her this role again. She’s relishing in it far too much” Jay grumbles into the microphone hidden in his collar, Kim is quick to speak back before Jay can walk away “Don’t listen to him Sarge, I think he’s secretly enjoying seeing her in a short dress and heels”.

You can sense Jay watching intently as you make your way up the stairs in front of him, only urging you to swing your hips more with every step. You reach the top and situate yourself next to Adam at the table, Jay makes no delay to turn his attention back onto the drinks and you laugh to yourself at how obvious you found it to be. “Just there is fine, thanks pretty boy” you wink at Jay who grins down at you “Pretty boy?” the tall man, you soon learn to be named Eric questions “You better watch out, he might have her off you” he raises his brows as he drinks “No chance mate, she ain’t going anywhere” Adam runs his hand up and down your leg, stopping at the hem of your dress.

“Besides, she ain’t gonna go for him. Look at him, a server at a bar isn’t exactly who you want to be with is it?” Adam chuckles and you feel your stomach pull, even knowing Adam was only speaking in his character it still didn’t sit right with you that he was saying those things about Jay “I don’t know, he’s pretty cute” you hit back as Jay stands awkwardly, still pouring the liquid into cold glasses in front of you. Adam runs his hand along his jawline and huffs in a laugh before wrapping his arm round you and pulling you onto his lap and away from Jay “We can pour our own drinks, you can go now”” he adds and Jay nods “have a nice night”.

His eyes linger on you for a split second before heading back down the stairs to the bar, you could tell he was pissed off just by the way his shoulders were tight and his back was straight as he returns to the bar. You turn your attention back to the group of men, one of which was staring at you far too hungrily which you tried to avoid but couldn’t for much longer as he placed himself next to you on the leather sofa “Mind if I have 5 minutes with your girl? I’ll get her out the way while you all settle up” The man asks and you grip onto Adam’s sholder, hoping he would get the hint of how you didn’t want him to agree “Think I’ll keep her with me if that’s alright, don’t want her causing trouble” Adam jokes but Eric clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer “Come on sweetie, just a bit of fresh air is all. Won’t be long”. You could tell he wasn’t going to let up so patted Adam on the chest and gave him a reassuring smile “I’m sure I’ll be fine”.

You yet again made your way down the stairs, followed closely by Eric who was quick to place his hand at the nape of your neck to guide you towards the exit. You walked past the bar and Jay looked concerned, followed by a scowl on Kim’s face as she watched you get rushed past “Sarge, Y/N is being led out by a white male. 6′4, black hair with a white shirt. She doesn’t exactly look happy about it”. Kim speaks into her microphone and not second goes by before Jay chimes in “Want me to follow?” he asks but Voight doesn’t respond.

“We haven’t got eyes, they came out but have gone round the back. It’d be too obvious for us to move but I can follow on foot?” Hailey speaks over the radio, Jay looks at Kim with a panic as silence is still coming from Voight “Sarge, we need answer” Kevin adds but still nothing “I’m going after them” Jay huffs and slams a glass onto the bar “No, leave her for a few minutes. She will be fine” Voight’s voice finally emerges but Jay isn’t happy “Are you serious? Some guy has taken her out of sight are you’re happy to sit back and do nothing?” he spits back, standing with his back to the club to avoid raising suspicion “All change to channel 5, you’ll be able to listen into her microphone and then we can decide when to move in” Voight demands as Jay and Kim switch their devices as instructed “Is he fucking serious? If something happens to her I’ll-” Jay leans forward, onto the bar near Kim. “Can still hear you, Halstead” Voight interrupts over the radio and Jay scoffs “Good.”

***

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #one chicago #chicago pd #chicago pd imagine #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead smut #one chicago x reader #jay halstead x you #jesse lee soffer

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incomingalbatross · 3 years

Text

GF Fic: (Insert Time-Related Pun Here)

Having a birthday on the last day of summer was great when you were a kid.

When you were in college and vacation ended somewhere in the last third of August? Not so much.

“Grunkle Ford, I...I don’t think Mabel and I can make it to Gravity Falls,” Dipper confessed, the day before his twenty-second birthday.

“Is it the travel time?” Ford asked from the other end of the phone. “If your usual transportation is too slow, we can call in a favor or two for you kids—I know plenty of entities that would be happy to give you a lift as a birthday present—”

“No, I know, I know,” Dipper said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “And I really appreciate that, Grunkle Ford, I just...it’s not the travel, it’s being there. The other years we’ve been in college, our birthday was always on a weekend—last year was a Monday, but we spent that year with you guys instead of in school—”

“Thank goodness that seer tipped us off about her vision of 2020!” Ford agreed. “Taking a gap year to sail the Arctic with us was definitely the right decision for you two.”

“Right? Half a semester of online classes was more than enough. But—I mean, maybe it’s being back in school after being gone for a year, maybe it’s just early-semester problems, but...” Dipper sighed. “It’s just, I’m taking five classes, and I’ve got a TA job this year, and I’m getting back into the DD&MD group again and maybe planning to DM a oneshot as a Halloween event, and...” He sighed again. “It all looked much more manageable on my schedule. It was color-coded and everything!”

Grunkle Ford hummed noncommittally.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper admitted. “Not the first time I’ve overbooked myself.”

“Not quite, perhaps. But it’s very good that you’re learning to recognize it and take steps to take care of yourself—when I was in college, I burned out routinely.”

“Mabel would sic the ‘Self-Care Fairy’ on me again if I didn’t learn.” The “Self-Care Fairy” was a truly terrifying onslaught of Mabelness, complete with costume and character voice, and would not go away until its subject had reached an acceptable level of well-being and had examined their mistakes. “Which is why...I have to cancel. If I came to Gravity Falls, even with instant travel, I’d only be able to get there around like 5:00 PM and I’d be stressed and anxious the whole time. And then I’d get back here exhausted and with no homework done and with class tomorrow, and...I just don’t think I can afford that.” Dipper paused, a knot twisting in his stomach. “I’m really sorry, I wish we could come...”

“Of course, Dipper, we know you do!” Grunkle Ford hastened to assure him. “Don’t feel sorry for us—of course we’d love to see you, but we just had the summer together. I’m just sorry you’re so short on time.” There was a moment’s silence.

“But how is Mabel doing? Is she facing the same challenges?”

“I mean, sort of.” Dipper smiled ruefully. “She kept trying to figure out some solution so that we could have our usual birthday and everything would work out, but...neither of us could come up with anything that would actually work. And she’s really busy too. She jumped back into school full steam ahead, and she’s got her Etsy store, and all her social groups to keep up with—you know she’s better at managing her energy than I am, but it’s still a lot.”

“I understand that,” Ford said. “You both do what you need to to keep up with your responsibilities, okay? We’re very proud of you both, you know.”

Dipper swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I know, Grunkle Ford.”

“Well, then, I’ll let you go—I imagine you have plenty to do right now! We’ll get in touch with you tomorrow, even if only by text.”

“Thank you, Grunkle Ford! Mabel and I are going to video-call at some point, we think, so there’s that. Say hi to Stan and Soos and Melody and the kids and everyone for me?”

“Of course, my boy. Have a good evening.”

“You too.”

The call disconnected, and Dipper sighed, throwing himself down on his bed. After a minute, he picked up his phone again and texted Mabel.

Just called Ford and canceled plans. He said to take care of ourselves and that he and Stan are proud of us.

Then he pushed himself into the homework for tomorrow until his phone buzzed.

Aww, of course he did. <3 Thanks for calling, brobro. I wish we could go, but you were right--I’ve got WAY too much booked. Why didn’t we check what weekday our birthday was FIRST???

Dipper snorted. Maybe we’re dumb :/

IMPOSSIBLE, Mabel sent back. Clearly an evil College Schedule Gremlin messed with our brains

Is that the same guy who makes it so you can never take the prereqs you need when you need them?

Yep!! And the one who fogs your brain so you THINK you’ve filled all your requirements until it’s too late to patch up the holes in your plan. His phone buzzed a second time after that text. ...Ugh, maybe there ARE gremlins in all the college systems

It would explain Blackboard, Dipper agreed with a frown. Huh, maybe they should look into that...

Anyway, though, u good for Zoom tomorrow?

Dipper huffed, reminded of the fact that they had no time for a paranormal investigation right now. Yeah, he typed, I can do an hour or so anytime after 5:30.

Cool, I will figure out a time and let you know!! Can’t wait to see your 22-year-old face!! :) Even if it sucks that we can’t party :(

Same, same. TTYL :)

Dipper tossed his phone aside again, shutting his eyes for a minute. It wasn’t just the party that had him down—though he would miss the bash that Gravity Falls usually threw on their birthday. It was...everything.

It was having a birthday without Mabel.

Oh, sure, they would talk, but they wouldn’t be in the same place. That was why, really, he’d hung onto their plans until the very last minute. He’d made it work on paper—taking an evening to travel to Gravity Falls, have a party, and be back in time for the next class—and it just felt wrong to admit defeat, to compromise on something this important. Their birthday meant the two of them celebrating together, having a good time, acknowledging that it was important.

This year wasn’t going to feel like a birthday at all, Dipper thought glumly.

But no, that was quitter talk. They were going to do their best anyway, because they were the Mystery Twins! Even if the situation was lame. Even if he was going to spend his time on the call with Mabel tomorrow doing homework and/or bursting with stress.

He opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling. “Why do I always overfill my schedule?” he asked plaintively.

The ceiling didn’t answer.

---

Dipper dropped his backpack with a thud on his dorm room floor, hastily unzipping it and digging out his laptop. He was late—he’d left his thermos in his last classroom, and been halfway across campus before he realized and turned around to go get it. He blamed his sleep deprivation (a week in, and his body still hadn’t readjusted to the rhythm of morning classes).

Now, though, he could finally pull up Zoom. He plugged in his headphones as he waited for it to connect (stupid dorm wifi), and was rewarded with an ear-splitting squeal.

“Happy birthday, Dipper!”

He grinned at her beaming face. “Happy birthday, Mabel!”

“Did you get a birthday cupcake?” she demanded. “Or at least a birthday cookie?”

He grimaced. “I got ice cream at the cafeteria, but I had to eat it there,” he confessed. “Here, I’ve got...a birthday candy bar?”

“Hmph.” Mabel looked crestfallen, but plastered a smile on anyway. “It’ll have to do! We can sing Happy Birthday, anyway. One, two, thr—”

Before they could launch into an inevitably out-of-sync rendition of “Happy Birthday,” Dipper heard a loud knock. Judging by Mabel’s startled turn towards her door, she heard it too—

Wait, what?

The knocking repeated. On both their doors.

“..Huh,” Mabel said thoughtfully. With a wordless glance between them, they both unplugged their headphones and went to their respective doors.

“Happy birthday, slugger!” Stan said, grinning, the instant he saw Dipper. Over the internet, Ford’s voice was greeting Mabel at the same time.

Dipper’s jaw dropped.

“Ha!” Grunkle Stan shoved past him into the room. Waving to the camera, he added, “Happy birthday, sweetie!”

Ford peered past Mabel into the screen. “Happy birthday, Dipper, my boy!”

“But—what—”

“Grunkles!” Mabel cried. “...But wait, why not just video call us? Not that we’re not happy to see your wrinkly faces, but you came such a long way!”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dipper said, waving his arm in confusion. “You guys—you know we can’t really visit, right? Even with you with us? We don’t have time. I dont want you guys to waste a trip—”

“But we didn’t,” Ford said smugly. “We came to bring your birthday presents.”

With a flourish, Stan produced something and handed it to Dipper. It looked like...a piggy bank, but with a clock face set into the side?

Mabel gasped. “It’s so CUTE!”

“But what is it, Grunkle Ford?” Dipper asked.

“Simply put, my boy...it’s time.”

“It’s a Time-Savings Bank,” Stan said proudly. “Got our hands on these babies a few months ago, on a little side trip. See, when you’ve got some extra time—like, at night, or when you’re waiting for a pot to boil, or whatever—you can use these gizmos to store it up instead! Then when you need more time, you use the clock to take it back out. Whammo! You squeeze in a few extra hours between the normal ones.”

“Like Daylight Saving Time without the false advertising,” Ford added. “We know you two are short on time right now, but...if you’d like, there’s enough in here to give you and everyone currently at the Mystery Shack a good few hours of spare time. What do you say, kids? Still up for a party?”

“Are we!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper stared at this miraculous device. “But...that’s a lot of hours,” he said. “Where did you get the time?”

Stan barked out a laugh. “You kiddin’, Dipper? We figured from the start that at least one of you would burn out when you went back to school. We’ve been putting time aside in these things for months.”

“...Really?” Dipper said. Somehow, he found himself blinking rapidly, and swallowing down some obstruction in his throat.

Stan coughed uncomfortably, looking away. “I mean, it’s not like we gave you any time we had a use for. Just some odds and ends here and there...every day... Anyway! You kids wanna get this show on the road?”

“YES!” Mabel shouted.

Dipper beamed. “Definitely,” he said. “Absolutely.”

And a few minutes later, when they all found themselves in the Shack (courtesy of one of those “favors” Ford had mentioned yesterday), and Dipper had piled into the inevitable group hug with his twin and his grunkles—and with hours of birthday celebration in front of them all—he had to add, “Best present ever.”

#did i neglect my college homework to write this? yes. yes i did #anyway #happy birthday dipper and mabel!#belated in my timezone but NOT ON THE WEST COAST so it WORKS #gravity falls #mystery twins #dipper pines #mabel pines #pines family #my fic #i did not proofread this At All so...there may be glaring errors #i'll find out later

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Ah I just read like 5 of your head cannons they're amazing! Could you write about the M9 reacting to a fighter s/o using magic for the fist time, and the s/o explaining that they haven't used it cause it scares them?

Thank you so much ☺️! It turned out a bit longer than I intended but more content is good right? I tried to get some variety in the types of magic users to kudos to anyone who figures out the (sub)classes. Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy this one 😘

Caleb:

Caleb, observant as he is caught on the fact you had more knowledge of the arcane than you let people believe. You knew things someone not schooled in some kind of magic wouldn’t have the faintest clue about. It may have left him a bit suspicious of you in the beginning but over time he saw no malicious intent or a connection to the people he’d rather distance himself from.

The first time Caleb noticed you cast a spell, you spoke the familiar words combined with the motions to deflect a hit from an enemy mid battle that otherwise might have been the death of you. You thought no one had noticed but Caleb had, and he recognised the shield spell you used. He saw you flinch the moment you cast it and fear in your eyes as if you were waiting for an aftermath. It never came but you were on edge for the next few hours.

Approaching you after noticing you were still on edge, nervously fidgeting with a coin in your hand to get rid of the more obvious jitters, you denied all claims. If Caleb is good at anything it’s providing a verbal slap in the face through reality check and calling out your bullshit. He wouldn’t press for answers because your past is your past and he had no right to demand it if you were not willingly offering it.

It took you some time but you came clean. You told him how your relationship with practical magics is destructive and hurts people. Because of that you vowed to distance yourself from magic altogether but sometimes you slip and hope no one notices and no ill effects follow you casting any spell. Caleb understands, better than anyone perhaps. He admires your restraint and capability of stepping away from the thing that causes you so much pain; something he never could.

If you’re able to and with your consent Caleb would help you work through your fears, only for your own wellbeing because one thing is undeniable; your magic is part of you and if you never learn to live with it, that it is part of you, you might never be able to accept it. What happens when you’re unable to fear the magic? Will you instead turn to fear yourself like he had himself for so long? No, if he can spare you a fate like that he’d do anything.

Beau:

You never hid the fact you were schooled in the arcane. It just never clicked you are actually a very capable spellcaster especially donned in battle worn armour and your tastes for sharp edged pointy things, and a ‘will cut a bitch’ attitude whenever someone comes for you or those close to you.

Perhaps a little ashamed to admit the first time Beau actually saw you cast a spell it was a simple mage hand cantrip. You couldn’t reach a book on a high shelf at the Archive and you thought it disrespectful to physically climb the bookcases to get it. Beau may or may not have been watching you, more like admiring your muscle. Nothing better than a strong, gorgeous ripped bookworm. Mouth agape you caught Beau staring. You had to snap her out of it. Beau had a million questions, maybe half of them flirty. You answered her questions best you could, even the flirty ones but when it got to where you learned magic you sort of just shut down so she dropped the subject. Beau knows how to read the room no matter how much she might want to press for answers. She’ll refrain. For now.

This doesn’t mean Beau drops the subject entirely for all future reference though. She’d leave hooks for you in case you’d be in a more talkative mood and grow frustrated when you ignored or brushed off the so-many-eth attempt to get you to spill some beans. One day she sat you down, giving you one more chance to tell her what’s going on. If you wanted to tell her, you could. If not, she’d never ask again or try to get you to talk about it.

That’s when you broke down, explaining all the terrible memories of your ‘studies’. You were the only child in a long line of powerful mages to barely be able to cast a cantrip growing up. You were a disappointment and disgrace to your family. Rigorous hours practicing and studying from dawn til dusk without breaks. Not being allowed to go outside and play with friends until you got this one thing right. Nevermind the fact that your family let it be known you were a disappointment.

You’d been working hard already to break the circle but couldn’t prevent the bad memories haunting you every time you felt like you had to cast a spell. No matter how far you ran, whenever you reached for the components, spoke the words or performed the somatics, you were hit with a sense of incompetence. Beau’s not unfamiliar to the need of living up to the expectations of family. She’d be there for you if you wanted to take up magic on your own terms or distance yourself from magic entirely.

Fjord:

Didn’t have a single clue you were magically inclined. But to be fair you never gave anyone a reason to believe you were. You were born with magic and you had seen what developing those abilities had done to others like you. You like yourself the way you are and would very much prefer not to fall into the servitude of some evil entity in the hunger for more power.

You’d seen Fjord spiral into the clutches of his patron and saw him struggle to get away from the leviathan. Ritualistically you tapped into the power bestowed upon you to search for a way to break the pact between warlock and patron. Of course it was doable and your powers could show you the way but you needed to get stronger first…

Fjord grew worried. You’d begun talking to yourself, spending nights awake and an odd sense of paranoia had grasped you. A storm hit once and you had nowhere to shelter. The little voice in your head came back. You could stop that storm. All it would take is a little tiny taste. When you agreed you had no control over yourself. Hand held up to the sky, eyes white and skin ashen, a bright light emitted and the clouds disappeared. Needless to say this did not go unnoticed by anyone.

Obligatory endless questions. Obligatory none answered. You retreated within your shell choosing to ignore your surroundings and feeling the nagging in the back of your head. Fjord heard you speaking to yourself at night. Asking the skies if it was worth it. Worth what? You heard him and just because the voice in the back of your head told you not to, you told Fjord everything; how you had been trying to find a way to keep Uk’otoa at bay, how to break his connection with his patron and give him freedom and what would happen to you if you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for more after completing that goal.

Fjord refuses to let you sacrifice yourself for his freedom. He’d rather have you fighting the evils of the world at his side than end up fighting you in an attempt to save yourself from what you might become. The two of you would work together to repress the inkling for more power and keep your powers at bay and under control. While you might want to see it differently, for the good of everything you’d stay far away from any magical forces seeking to awaken the power you were born with.

Veth:

Veth made it clear she would not understand why anyone would pass on the opportunity to learn or develop magical abilities should they be available to them. She literally spoke those words and you just nodded along changing the subject. You’d rather not lie but is this lie by omission?

It was an emergency. A fight had gone south and you were losing quickly. Clerics on their last legs, a wizard down being dragged away by the monk and Veth running in arrows blazing and screaming to protect her friends. You had to get out and none of you were quick enough at this point to all get out. So you did what you had to do. A quick expeditious retreat resulted in conveniently released magic missiles at your enemies, grabbing the halfling who got out some last shots you misty stepped your way to safety. You shouted to the others you were safe immediately knowing to keep your mouth shut for the next minute. Bless the gods the surges weren’t that bad this time.

Safely returned Veth commented on what you did. Did you take those scrolls? Did you buy that misty step enchanted item after all? Those were the only logical explanations right? Yes but they weren’t true. So you told Veth the truth. No scrolls or enchanted items were involved. Why didn’t you tell anyone you could do that?! It would have been so helpful in the past! Look how many buttons you could have helped her get!

You calmly explained her you could cast spells and were actually quite good at it one point your magic is dangerous, and the surges uncontrollable the state you’re at. While this time the reward by far exceeded the risks in this situation, you’d rather prevent killing those around you in a blaze of glory if you can. Wild magic surges are no joke and you’re so afraid of hurting the people you care about you’d rather step away from magic completely than live with the knowledge you could be the end of your friends and family.

Veth still has a hard time understanding your reasoning being prone to risky behaviour herself but accepts your views and respects your decisions. While you may not practice magic you still know it and after some persuasion, the woman gets you to teach her a thing or two. Of course all used for the good of mankind of course…. She just failed to specify who’s.

Jester:

You’re a special one. The Traveler told her so after all! He just didn’t tell her in what way specifically but you are special! That Traveler of hers may know a bit more than you’re comfortable with so you’ve been wary of the green cloak should he see the need to reveal your secrets. Luckily he cares about Jester and revealing your secrets would hurt you and you being hurt makes Jester upset so you can take comfort in the Traveler’s attachment to the tiefling.

Pixies came to haunt you in the night. They were meant to send you a message. Someone wanted you to stop running and accept your fate. Pissed off as you were you fought them off but when some tried to get away and your bow out of reach you were forced to release the bursts of bright green energy. Regret hit followed by fear. What if your patron could find you now? What if they came to get you or tried to hurt your friends to get you to cooperate? You will never be a puppet again and if a cantrip screwed this up for you….

“Oh. My. Gosh. Why did you never tell me you could do magic?” Jester exclaimed waking up Fjord just to tell him your eldritch blasts looked so much cooler than his. Guess the cat’s out of the bag… You had to prevent Jester from waking up the others to tell them you’d just gotten even cooler than you already were.

Successfully sending the others back to sleep you took Jester aside. Your hands still shaking, you asked her to talk to her god and ask him if he knew someone might be looking for you and getting close. The Traveler obliged but he wanted to hear the story behind your predicament. You told Jester everything ignoring the green hooded figure. How a being from another realm tricked you into an agreement. From then on you became a warlock.

You didn’t like being a warlock and you being stuck in such a binding deal lead to a very abusive relation between you and your patron so you did everything in your power to get away from them. Luckily crossing the planes is a lot more difficult and limits their capabilities quite a bit. Jester promised she’d protect you and of course the Traveler can be your new god so he’ll protect you too. Both you and the Traveler might not have been in full agreement with this statement. Jester understands you wanting to be far away and never see your patron again. She’s seen her mom get rid of the people getting a little too close for comfort or too attached and possessive so she knows how to deal with them.

Caduceus:

From the beginning you knew you couldn’t hide anything from Caduceus no matter how hard you tried. This lead you to just never specify anything. If he picked up on thing and asked about them then you’d answer, if not, you weren’t just going to say anything. Not even to explain yourself. Let him draw his own conclusions.

You may once have been a devout follower of your god, the one who bestowed upon you the powers you’d need to uphold their tenets but you veered from that path. Not everything is as black and white as some people claim it to be. You learned the hard way afraid of repeating your mistakes you’d only revert to your old habits in the most dire situations.

Caduceus had gone down. Jester was too far away and you were the only one able to get to him in time but you were out of healing potions. A quick lay on hands later and Caduceus was back on his feet albeit a bit confused about how you had managed to get him back to the land of the living. Talk later, he told you after seeing you mortified of what you had just done through the relief of seeing Caduceus alive.

Talk later you did. You couldn’t run away from your problems. Caduceus wouldn’t let you. You told him how you had done terrible things, hurt people because your god willed it so. You thought you were doing the right thing until you were faced with the truth and consequences. That’s when you stepped away from your life as a paladin; a vessel for your god.

You kept the sword but refused to use the magic; proof of your ability to hurt people who were worthy of redemption. Over many months Caduceus would help you see that your magic is nothing to be afraid of as long as you wield it with a good conscious and to protect instead of seek vengeance. There’s a fine line between being righteous and being just. The Wildmother taught him as much. Maybe she could through him, show you the same?

Yasha:

Whenever someone played a happy tune or began singing you’d retreat and block out your surroundings or find anything you could to distract you from the sound. Yasha just thought music’s not for everyone and maybe these songs and melodies just were’t your style. However when you asked her to please stop humming a tune while you had watch together she became a bit suspicious.

Spending some downtime at a tavern, deep in your cups Yasha was being bothered by a rather persistent asshole. On the verge of a fight breaking out you stepped in front of the barbarian and in a singsong voice told the asshole to kindly piss off and find company elsewhere with someone actually interested. The act alone made your stomach churn so you ran off.

You didn’t like controlling people. It didn’t even take a rhyme or proper verse. All it took was some booze and a melody in your head. This couldn’t happen again. Yasha had come after you to check on you and when you told her to stop, she stopped, frozen in place unable to move. You immediately dropped the accidental spell you cast putting distance between you and Yasha.

Yasha assured her it was fine and with your permission approached. A hug from the gentle goth was all it took for you to turn into a sobbing mess. When the sobs calmed down you told Yasha how you were cursed with your voice. Song and rhymes, tunes and melodies constantly plagued you afraid you’d go along with them and people got hurt because you couldn’t control your voice.

For the longest time you were uncomfortable using your voice but with your permission Yasha would help you practice. She can take a hit if you lose control badly but this fear is no good for you. She’ll play sweet serenades, some prettier than others as she too needs practice, the both of you can practice together learning and relearning the things you grew to love together.

Mollymauk:

Mollymauk doesn’t care about your shit. Everyone hides something and as long as those secrets aren’t a danger to those around you it’s all fine. Though he can’t deny being a bit curious when you snuck off to burn a suspicious stack of paper…. lighting the flame without tinder, flint and steel, or anything.

The next few weeks involved Molly trying to get you to use magic again, asking you to do small tasks much easier to complete with magic than they would be manually. You didn’t budge. Somehow he couldn’t get you to do anything. You’d complete the task the hard way each and every time. He began to wonder if he might have imagined the whole thing.

He spent the whole night tossing and turning until he decided to give up on sleep and just face you with the question to be done with it. You were gone, the light of a fire a bit away from the rest of the group. He found you watching the flames, tears in your eyes and devoid of all emotion. He’d seen Caleb in a similar state before. That’s when it hit him. This was pain, fear and trauma and you’re disassociating to get through this.

Sitting down next to you he’d place a hand on your shoulder, when you don’t stop him he’d wrap it around your shoulder letting you know he’s here for you when you need him. His views don’t change. Everyone is entitled to their secrets and keeping their lives to themselves. If you want to talk, he’s here but he’d accept your silence too despite his curiosity. Luckily for his curiosity, you told him everything. The torments of the past and the family you lost, the pain you’ve caused countless others and how you’re trying to pay your penance and make right your wrongs.

You’re glad to have Molly at your side be that to cheer you up or listen to you. He’s there whenever you need him and will take no for an answer when you don’t want to talk about something. He won’t ask for further details but will do anything to show you you’re on the right path and leaving a place better than you found it when you can’t see it.

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #critical role #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #beau x reader #beauregard x reader #fjord x reader #veth x reader #nott x reader #jester x reader #caduceus x reader #yasha x reader #mollymauk x reader

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circethegoblin · 3 years

Text

STAYING ALIVE MASTERPOST, FROM A BROKE TEEN WITH ADHD

here you go. some down to earth tips on how to not die metally nor physically.

tired of those "drink three liters of water everyday uwu" and "wake up at 5 am" and "buy a bath bomb and a fec mask and some other things you don't have the money for" shit? i'm here for ya.

1. NOT DYING

eat at least three meals a day, one of which m u s t be warm and above 300 kcal (it can be istant ramen with an egg added if you have to)

you technically should shower everyday, but we know how it is. A change of clothes is sometimes enough.

DRY SHAMPOO AND BABY WIPES!!!

keep bottles with water everywhere. On your desk, near that spot on the floor you always end up sitting on, near your bed, basically whenever you know you spend a lot of time. No need to get up and go to the kitchen will help. Obviously change the water in the bottles as often as you can.

Get some form of physical activity. It doesn't have to be much, you can for example replace scrolling on tiktok by walking around your room and scrolling on tiktok! Brilliant, isn't it? Obviously, running or doing those 10 minutes workouts from youtube is better, but you are still getting like an hour of walking.

Buy blankets. Steal blankets. Summon blankets from other dimensions. Just make sure you have a lot of warm, soft blankets in your house. You will thank me when you won't have the anergy to wash your sheets (just take them off and throw some blankets on your bed), or when the power goes out.

If you have pets, ALWAYS keep spare food that'll last for a week for them.

things to always have in the kitchen: milk, eggs, flour, rice, pasta, yeast, cheese, oil, a leafy vegetable, onions, tomatoes, apples, patatoes, some flavourful sauce, sugar, salt, spices and an emergency chocolate bar. You can make a lot of food with those. Just make sure you won't eat the chocolate too fast.

Have a lot of spare batteries. A lot.

Get urself a flashlight, a lighter, and a pocket knife.

Remember the apples? eat one a day. if you don't like apples or you can't eat them for any other reason, you can take a kiwi, banana, orange, basically something that will give you vitamins and non processed sugar.

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

drugs from that one guy around the corner = very bad time

2. NOT DYING INSIDE

Open the damn window.

Don't watch so many commentary videos. You are probably not even checking the sources, so you can easily make unjust judgement, and like. did you even hear of half of those people before?

make a discord server just for yourself. get into the habit of writing little things that happened to you there. rant about the fanfics you read. or the movies. vent there if you don't have anyone you can vent to. write your ideas there, write e v e r y t h i n g. make a section for passwords, for quick ideas, for your to do lists. you won't lose it as you do with sticky notes or notebooks. there is no risk anyone will see it. oh, and when you'll have a strong impulse to tell emily that you hate her? write that message in your private server and list all ur arguments. look at tat the next day and decide if you really mean that.

life sucks. come to peace with it.

cuddle ur pets if you have them

1 hour a day without a lot of sensory input. if you have to, reduce to half an hour.

if you find yourself scrolling endlessly through social media, make sure it's pintrest (just don't compare urself to the people here; if you have issues with that, tumblr may be better)

delete. twitter. from. your. phone.

influencers are lying to you; maybe not even intentionally. remember when you were watching that cute-aesthetic-productive morning routine, and you were wondering why your life isn't that pretty? why your room is a mess? why you cannot for the life of god be aesthetic 24/7? its the filter. don't worry about it, their lifes arent that nice either.

realize there's actually nothing stopping you from screaming as loud as you can right now. like there is no physical barrier. think about it. realize there's no actual physical barierr to many other things.

your body is your body. you can decide how it looks like; just remember it's in your greatest interest to keep it healthy.

3. BEING A LITTLE BETTER THAN JUST ALIVE

If you wear make up, take it off before you go to sleep.

moisturize your body; everything is better when your skin doesn't feel dry

have a one brand of cosmetics that you love and buy things mainly from it. they often have sets of products that complete each other. i like ziaja. it's a polish brand, it's surprisingly cheap and has nice quality

cleanser, moisturizer, face mist

of you can, change your sheets once every two weeks

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

do a deep house clean once a month (don't beat yourself up when you don't tho)

keep your workspace organized (it doesn't have to look organized to other people, remember)

sunscreen

cook your own food

keep a calendar

no money for scented candles? got ya. make a simmer pot: throw some apple peel, a couple of cinnamon sticks and whatever spices that smell good you have into a pot, add some water and simmer. boom. your house smells good, and you haven't spend 20 dollars.

If you really like candles, buy scented wax melts. it's cheaper.

Buy urself scented mists. they're pretty cheap and will make you feel A LOT better.

keep your clothes clean. if you aren't sure if that shirt thats on your chair is dirty or not, throw it in the washing mashine anyway. better be sure.

if you can, make your bed right when you get up

wear clothes that make you feel good. put some effort into your outfits. really.

4. OTHER PEOPLE

be nice to essential workers.

if you have money, give tips.

remember, you do not owe anyone love; it is not something you can force. even if they saved your life. even when they helped you in your darkest time. if you don't love them, you don't.

you don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be happy.

if you want to, date! date everyone! date girls, date boys, date nonbinary people! date people completly different than you, date people from different countries, date them!!! just make sure they're kind and won't kill you. even if you don't end up in a relationship, you can learn a lot.

don't be afraid to piss off people that deserve it

smile to strangers :)

5. NOT FAILING SCHOOL

heard of dark academia? check it out

romanticize the heck out of studying

do not let your studying be just reading the same partagraph over and over again. it won't work. believe me.

seterra for geography, quizlet for everything else

try to make yourself intrestet in whatever you are studying (watch veritasium, listen to podcasts about weird history facts)

notes are for you and you only; don't worry about them looking pretty. doodle on margins, make weird metaphors, squeeze in as much info as you can.

when you're studying, listen to music without words/in a language you don't understand.

chew gum while you study

get the forest app, get attached to the trees, focus.

don't feel guilty for taking breaks

grades aren't everything, but they are important.

eat something in school

don't just use the cheapest pens. invest a couple dollars in something that will make writing enjoyable and smooth

those study with me videos? they're great

if you like to argue with the teachers, take care of your grades becouse. they may not like you afterwards.

be nice to your classmates and help them with homework. if you don't do your homework they'll help you

executive dysfunction won't let you study? been there. sometimes it's better to wake up ealier tommorow and do that homework then.

don't feel guilty for failing a test

go to the goddamn class

don't pull all nighters oh my god don't especially on weekdays

6. OTHER LIFEHACKS

don't get involved in the crime, and if you do always have a believable explanation why you were doing it

have different alarm sounds for every day of the week

set a daily limit of money that you spend

great hobbies that don't require a lot of money; urban exploration, writing, hiking and learning other languages

thrift stores

don't eat grapefruits while on meds

nail polish removers dissolve most strong glues.

if you have a cut on your skin, desinfect it. do it. please just do it.

always have pads with you. even if you don't get periods, at least one of your friends probably does

#life hacks #life #not dying #staying alive #no one will see this #who cares though

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ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Claiming Ones Own

This chapter was a pain to write. It's not perfect but will do as brain seems to want to focus on the next chapter hay ho! Enjoy. Cross posted on AO3.

Masterlist

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Chapter 4 - Bedtime Disasters

By the time the trio had finished their meal it was late/early, depending on your viewpoint, but one thing was certain was that it was past Marie’s bedtime. This may have been a good point to try and get her to sleep, but given that a) they are bats, sleep is for the weak as Tim would state and b) Marie had been fed probably not the wisest proportion of chocolate in the last few hours, sleep was not really on the cards any time soon.

Cass and Jason worked in tandem clearing the table and storing what remained of the takeaway in the fridge. Jason had managed to demolish a significant amount unsurprisingly, so there wasn’t much to box up. Marie stood fascinated, watching the adults dance around each other with practiced ease, taking in all the subtle communication they gave to each other.

As Cass started to wash up the dishes, Jason sighed and set off towards the bathroom. Despite his grumbling’s Jason knew it was his safest course of action. The Alfred threat looming over him was not worth the energy fighting over and simpler to just do the task. Alfred, for all his neutrality, was wrapped around Cass’s little finger (much like Bruce), and now Cass was providing him with a great grandchild would give her more protection of Alfreds disappointment. He doubted it would be long till Pixie learnt that skill from Cass either. Pixie had a charm about her and was already working her magic on him and Cass.

Seeing Jason leave, Marie bouncing with unspent energy, quietly followed to see what he was up to. Washing dishes seemed boring to her, and she had already seen the kitchen. She knew where the chocolate was stored which was the key important factor. Silently she shadowed Jason, that was until he went towards the remains of the battle zone.

“No trick here Pixie, I’m just cleaning up the mess. I’m not gonna get you wet, promise. You can watch if ya like or have a look around the apartment. No escaping or running, we’ve just got ya and don’t want to have to save you again from some more bastards!”

The little huff of air as her response got Jason to chuckle. “We care about you Pixie. Cass claiming ya means your family now. Like it or not you’re stuck with us. Cass won’t give you up easily” Jason replied before starting work on tidying the bathroom.

Marie flitted around the apartment observing them both, wondering off briefly exploring before returning to see where they were. Over the meal they gained a small amount of trust, it was clear to see they meant her no harm so was letting some of her walls down for the moment appeared to be ok. She didn’t completely trust them but she didn’t not trust them.

During her apartment adventures Maria found a thing with buttons on. Inquisitively she pressed some of the buttons. She squeaked in surprise as the TV turned on. Cass heard the noise escaping her daughter and ran into the room in a panic. Heart pounding. Was her daughter ok? Has she hurt herself? Has someone however unlikely broken in?!!!

Relief flooded through Cass as she arrived on the scene, Marie hypnotised by the tv showing some baking show. Easing into a smile, Cass went and grabbed a couple of blankets and draped one round her shoulders and one around Maries. Gently guiding Marie to her lap on the sofa they both snuggled on the sofa to watch the baking show while Jason finished off.

When Jason finished, he found the pair fast asleep wrapped up tight in blankets with the TV and lights still on. As he turned the TV and lights off, two drowsy heads glared at him as he backed away before settling down to sleep. ‘Pixie is such a mini Cass in the making’ flashed through his head.

Jason woke to loud banging on his door, groggily he sat up and with a sleep ladened voice groaned, “What do you want Cass”. The woman barged into his room, “Missing” ‘Marie is missing!!! We slept on the sofa, when I woke, she was gone!’ “Help Jay!!”. Slowly shaking he sleep out of his body, Jason finally registered what Cass was saying and appearance. Cass was unnervingly jittery and had glimmers of fear and worry marking her face. To catch Cass’s mask cracking freaked Jason out.

“Fuck” Jason jumped out of bed. His head finally catching up with the conversation. Cass was scared. Pixie had disappeared between the time he’d gone to bed and Cass waking up. Street kids were tricky, they knew how to escape and avoid trouble. Giving what they saw of her on the streets, she had the potential to slip out the apartment without triggering the alarms. They were set up for those slipping in, not out. He thought that they had reassured her enough to stay the night and well hopefully trust them.

“Shit! Fuck! Where have you looked Cass? Are you sure she’s left the apartment?” grabbing some joggers to slip on, Jason walked over to the semi frantic Cass.

‘Looked in living room and bedroom. I couldn’t see her. Doors and windows locked still don’t think she left but I’ Cass looked up at Jason, her anxiety was showing ‘I panicked. Need help to find her’

Systematically the pair hunted the apartment. Looking in all the unusual places a child could hide. Pixie was appearing to be an expert at disappearing.

Throwing caution to the wind Jason looked in the blanket cupboard. Almost missing it, Jason could see a glimpse of hair poking out. Jason could only smile. His niece was hidden, you could barely see her, under the pile of blankets and right at the back so only if you were seriously looking for her. Leaving the girl who seemed content to rest Jason strode off to find Cass.

“Hey Cass, you can chill now. I found your gremlin. She is in the blanket cupboard all nested and asleep still.”

The visible effect of those words surprised Jason as tension and anxiety left his sister’s body. ‘Thank you Jay’. His niece had really wormed her way into Cass’s heart, and his heart too.

…………….

Being a mother was surprisingly more complex than Cass had thought as she reviewed her first almost week.

Meal times had been an interesting challenge to overcome with Marie demanding chocolate ALL the time. That was until Cass thought of chocolate milk. This seemed to appease her quirky child, so though at times convincing her to try new things was harder than it should be, Marie was more co-operative. At least now meals were not food covered in chocolate spread or succumbing to chocolate bar demands.

Taking Marie shopping had also been an experience she, and Jay, would rather forget. Marie disappearing for 30 minutes had caused an awful lot of fraught feelings for Cass and Jason as they hunted manically for her. When Marie reappeared she seemed quite content with a collection of jewellery and nonplussed about the chaos and anxiety she’d left behind her. Her pickpocketing habits would need to be addressed as she kept the ring she obtained but she gifted the rest to Jason and Cass. The gift given would have been sweet if it a) wasn’t stolen and b) she didn’t think that she needed to buy love/care. Shopping also unraveled that the girl was particularly picky about clothes and distrustful of strangers. All in all, it resulted in a lot of stress for the Wayne adoptees. Shopping trips were now off the table for a while if Marie was involved.

Though these were issues and problems, Cass felt she had managed to overcome them or at least manage to for the most part. Ok, that was a lie but she had plans semi in place.

Her current headache at this moment in time was sleep! Well more the waking. She wasn’t sure how she would survive a month of parenthood at this rate. Every, and she really did mean every, morning Marie was missing only to be found in another location. It was causing her more distress that she’d like to admit.

She had hoped that the first blanket nest situation the first night was a one off. Turns out that was a no. Jason was finding it all too amusing as well!

After night 1, night 2 was spent coaching Marie to sleep in her bed. Buying a new bed hadn’t crossed their minds after the shopping fiasco, and Jason wasn’t currently willing to relinquish the spare room. Something about his guns and personal space. Getting her into a soft bed still required too much chocolate bribery. Waking up to Marie missing. Again. Freaked Cass out. Eventually she was sound curled up in a suitcase on top of the wardrobe.

Night 3 Cass slept in the bed with Marie, hoping that it would convince her to stay in the bed all night. That failed when she was found asleep under the bed. At least that time it was semi easy to find the girl.

Night 4 Cass burrito’d and swaddled the girl up in blankets. Restricting her movements may help her settle and remain in bed. That failed too. Marie was found sleeping in Cass’s wardrobe this time. Slightly easier to find again.

By night 5 Cass was close to pulling her hair out. The morning drama’s were getting to her and Jason finally conceded the spare bedroom to her daughter. The amusement was still there but not as strong. That was a sort of win, Marie gaining her own space and hopefully learning to trust them more.

That was a complete disaster as Marie disappeared again this time. The girl was eventually found wrapped in a blanket nest in the kitchen cupboard amazingly hidden behind the food. An impressive way to hide. Chocolate wrappers were also found.

‘Jay! Help. I don’t understand. Why won’t she stay in bed? What am I doing wrong?’

“You’re doing great Cass! Chill a bit. Pixie is eating more than chocolate and we are finding her quicker each day. She’ll run out of new hiding places soon which will mean we will find out her favourite space to sleep”

‘Nooo Jaaay! Help! Please she needs to learn to sleep in bed. I can’t introduce her to Alfred otherwise. He’d want to meet her. Which brings the rest of them. And I don’t want to loose her! The others would be too much!! Please! Please! Pleeeease Jay!!! For Alfred if not meee!"

Jason could do without the morning stress too and Cass did raise a good point about Alfred and the rest of the bats. Sighing, Jason pondered over what Pixie was doing and recalled his time adjusting to the manor.

“Cass, she likes small safe, hidden spaces. Open spaces leave her vulnerable and open to attack. I think she knows that we won’t do that, but it's a hard habit to break. Plus she is a stubborn girl, a true bat I guess. I know I didn’t like the big rooms at the manor to begin with. Perhaps we can create a safe nest in her room to see if she’ll stay. A small safe space. The room is too big currently for her to be used to it.”

Smiling Cass nodded. The logic sort of followed.

That evening Cass and Jason worked together to make a blanket fort nest in the corner of the room. Marie watching with curious eyes. Playing with the ring she’d taken to wearing on a chain. When Cass started to take the bedding off the bed into the blanket fort, Maries eyes’ turned to saucers as she worked out what was happening. Tugging on Cass’s arm ‘Marie help?’ caused Cass to smile in pride and nod. Marie was starting to sign more delighting Cass and semi trusting them.

The next morning Cass woke to find Marie still dozing in her blanket fort and smiled! This obstacle was conquered.

Note: thank you to PickledPlumFan on AO3 for the chocolate milk idea/concept.

[next]

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Tag List

@boldlyanxious @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo @too0bsessedformyowngood @lady-bee-fechin @solangelo252 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @arty-shadow-morningstar

#maribat #maribat au #claiming ones own #marinette x cass #marinette x jason #found family #ml x dc #mlb x dc #dc x ml #dc x mlb #platonic

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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

Text

You Know Just What I Need.

Head of Security!Reader x Bucky Barnes AU.

Run-through: Freshly out of uni, Bucky Barnes comes back to live in his family home. Given he’s the only son of a billionaire, he needs security around at all times. And his dad puts you in charge of his son’s safety until he comes home from a business trip. You intend on doing your job as perfectly as always, but what you didn’t know it that Bucky is a spoilt brat who is only interested in pestering you and making your life a living hell… until eventually you are left with no other choice but to teach him a lesson in order for him to learn how to behave.

Themes: spoilt brat!Bucky, smut, fluff, slight dom!reader,

a/n: I was re-reading my bodyguard!stucky au the other day and I thought, what if the roles were reversed…? Enjoy!

“He’s here.”

One of the guards spoke through the comms, signaling you that Bucky Barnes was here. You were in the monitor room upstairs, watching over all the live footage of security cameras placed around the Barnes’ property. You observed the one at the gate and watched how the expensive car made its way through the gates.

He’s here.

You walked out of the room and made your way downstairs, on your way to meet your boss’ only son. You were the head of security, working for Mr. Barnes. You led an entire team who helped you in directing the rest of the staff employed by Barnes. Whenever your boss was away – which was always – every decision regarding the properties and companies went through you first.

Security processes, new policies, and most financial decisions, legal or illegal transactions – basically everything needed your seal of approval when the boss was away. You and Mr. Barnes had a comfortable bond since day one, he trusted you immensely, which is why you had been handed over the responsibility of taking care of his son, Bucky, until the latter’s father comes back from a business trip.

Basically the son was your responsibility for the coming weeks. Rumor had it that the young man was a nightmare; the complete opposite of his father. Since your job allowed it, you stalked him on his many social media platforms as soon as you received the phone call from your boss, just to get an insight of what you were getting into. You spent hours scrolling through the many pictures Bucky posts all the time. And so far, you gathered that he was; a brat, a party animal, spends his father’s money like it’s no one’s business on expensive cars and clothing. He enjoyed the finer things in life.

Oh well, you thought to yourself, this one is going to be quite a handful. Besides, rich kids hate security anyways.

You got downstairs and found some of the guards standing at the foyer, you joined them and they all gave you courteous nods. You noticed how they all stopped slouching as soon as you approached them, they stood straight. You smirked a little. Your job did require you to be somewhat intimidating and controlling, but you liked it. You quite enjoyed the power which came along the job.

In less than a minute, he finally walked through the doors; the one and only – Bucky. He entered the house with a gait which radiated arrogance. You refrained from rolling your eyes at him and his almost visible cockiness. But, you expected no less.

Dressed in all black, leather jacket and boots; you had to admit he was an attractive young man.

“Well, well, there’s nothing better than coming home after 5 years and being welcomed by a group of guards!” he sassed, looking at the guys. And you saw how he did a double take when he saw you. He did that thing that most men do when they see you for the first time; stare.

Perfect hair, minimal makeup, bold red lip, high heels for the aesthetics and wearing a tailored black suit with a white button down shirt – you looked great and you knew it. So you let him stare, just like you let all of them stare. Only not many men approached you, most of them were intimidated.

But Bucky wasn’t one of those, no. Bucky was shameless, and cocky and confident. He walked right up to you, eyed you up and down and smirked.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked, surprising you a little. But surprising the rest of the guards even more. They all turned their heads in sync to look at the exchange between you and Bucky. Because no one ever dared to talk to you like that before.

You smirked and tilted your head up just a little, looked Bucky right in the eyes. “Y/N. Head of security. My team and I were appointed by your father to keep you away from trouble until he gets back home. Because you’re unable to do so on your own despite being a grown man.” You answered with a straight face and nothing but sarcasm lacing your words.

Bucky was a little taken aback, usually women melt under his stare – but not you. He heard a chuckle or two come from the group of guards who stood nearby and he felt a little, just a little intimidated. But he liked that. You were fiery, and he was digging it. “Anything else, Mr. Barnes?” you asked again, breaking his little reverie.

He shook his head. “No.” he still had that damn smirk on his face.

You faked smiled at him. “Very well then, Wilson will show you to your room. He and Quill will be your bodyguards for the days to come.” You briefly explained, and pointed to Sam and Peter.

Bucky spared them a dirty look and by the time he looked back at you, you began walking away. “Hey, wait!” he called out after you. You stopped and turned around, refraining from rolling your eyes again. Bucky smirked, and walked over to you again.

“Why can’t you be my bodyguard? You seem badass enough for that. Besides, we could really have a lot of fun together you and I.” he finished with a wink.

You flashed him another faint, fake smile. “Mr. Barnes, you should know that I have a lot more important things that require my attention. My team needs me to help run your father’s company while he’s away. I can’t possibly do that and babysit you at the same time.” You leaned in just a little and whispered the last sentence just so the guys won’t hear you.

Bucky chuckled as you stared at him for another second before turning around, leaving him behind again. And oh did he enjoy watching you walk away. He had never had any woman be so uninterested in him before. So this was very new to him. And he was intrigued.

Like you said, his two bodyguards showed him to his room where he spent the rest of the day. He thought of you, shamelessly, while he showered. Self-abusing himself under the warm water as he thought of your bold personality, and those irresistible eyes of yours… and your red lips, and your body… and the way you carried yourself, confidence and power surrounding you. He had only met you hours ago, but he wanted you. Bad.

He made a mental note to pester you and annoy you until you finally give in. because he was Bucky Barnes, whatever he wanted he got. And right now there was nothing more he wanted than you. Bucky didn’t know exactly where or how this would go, but one thing he knew for sure – he had to have you.

---

The next two days were absolutely terrible. Actually, the days were fine; it’s Bucky who made them terrible.

It started out when your boss called you, asking you if you could stay under the same roof as his son. For the latter’s safety and well-being, because there was no one else he trusted around his son more than you. Not having the heart to say no to the old man, you agreed.

Bucky was excited when he heard this decision made by his father. And suddenly, all of his shirts went missing. He paraded around with just his sweatpants on, purposely entering and leaving the room which you were in several times just to get your attention.

Sure it was annoying, but you couldn’t complain much; he was fit. Now you knew why he had so many girls around him all the time on all of his social media posts. The guy was hot!

He annoyed you even more by constantly flirting with you, without hesitation. Or he would do this thing where he would purposely walk by you, and make sure his body brushes against yours each time. But you worked for his dad so there was nothing you could do or say. However no matter what he did, he was never disrespectful.

He even tried to have your number, to which you denied at first. Then he thought he blackmailed you by saying what if he gets in trouble one day and how he should have it just in case. And you rolled your eyes and gave him your number just so he would shut up.

But he didn’t.

Given you had to live with him, you settled in one of the many guest bedrooms. You chose the one on the ground floor, trying to be as far away from Bucky’s room as possible. But still, he annoyed you all through the night by texting you incessantly. And it was always cheesy texts which made you question how is he a 25 year old adult;

‘I can’t sleep. Come cuddle me?’

‘I know you’re awake. Are you possibly thinking about me? ;)’

‘I would sleep better with you here with me yk’

‘I’m all alone… in my bed… thinking of you… with my hand wrapped around my big… Bible because I pray to God that one of these days you respond to my messages jfc’

You would never respond to any of his messages. You would just laugh and turn your phone on silent each night before going to bed.

It’s alright, you told yourself, I can keep him safe and ignore him at the same time, right?

Wrong.

A few days later, Bucky received an invite to a prestigious party being held in the city by one of his father’s closest friend and long-time business ally. And given his dad wasn’t here, Bucky was the one who would have to go in his place, he couldn’t possibly miss it.

But there was a problem – Bucky needed a date.

“Absolutely not.” You denied him right when he came into the study room, where you were dealing with paperwork, asking you to be his date for the party tomorrow.

He sighed dramatically. “Why not? If you go as my date, you could keep an eye on me as well.” He approached you by the book shelf and stood a little too close. He leaned in and whispered, “Because I tend to misbehave a lot.” He breathed in your ear in his deep, velvety voice.

And you felt a tingle dance down your spine when he whispered in your ear, but you convinced yourself it was nothing.

You thought over it. His dad had specifically asked not to let him go anywhere on his own. Plus, you wouldn’t trust him on his own. Lately even Sam and Peter had been complaining that he could be unmanageable.

“Fine.” You agreed on going as his date to the party.

---

The lavish party was being held at an equally grand mansion.

You should have known it was a bad idea to come here as Bucky’s date. Because not only was he absolutely shameless and flirty, and annoying but this spoilt brat also took the liberty to tell everyone that you were his girlfriend before you could stop him or correct him.

And soon, you two became the talk of the room; he noticed that the men gave him envious glares while you noticed that the ladies gave you envious glares.

“We look great together.” He whispered in your ear and proceeded to lean down and kiss your cheek and pulled you closer while the two of you were slow dancing, after he begged you to. And you had to keep fake smiling as you looked up at him with nothing but annoyance in your eyes.

You kept your hands around his shoulders while he smirked and placed one of his hand right on your butt. “Come on, admit it.” He said, full of cockiness.

You gently moved his hand from your ass to the side of your leg, where your thigh holster was, with a handgun in it. His smirk disappeared for a few moments as he felt the gun through your stunning evening gown and you smirked this time, looking up at him.

Just for show, you leaned in to kiss his cheek as well. “Try that again and I’ll shoot you and make it seem like an accident.” You whispered in his ear and pulled away to fake smile at him.

Bucky chuckled. “Can’t tell if you threatened me or turned me on even more, babe.” He whispered, winking at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

You left the dimmed dance floor as soon as the song ended. And you went to grab your clutch and went to get a drink at the bar. You sipped on it lazily, then noticed that Bucky wasn’t by your side yet; annoying you like he had been all night. You turned around, expecting to find him near you somewhere. But you didn’t see him.

You panicked for a moment. But then your phone rang in your clutch. You answered it immediately once you saw that it was Bucky.

“Where the hell are you?” you whisper-yelled through the phone.

He chuckled. “Aww, miss me already? Can’t even leave you for a few minutes? Jesus, you’re so obsessed with me.” He sounded just as cocky as ever. And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he had that damn smirk on his face right now.

You sighed, less worried now that you knew he was alright. “Bucky, where are you?” you asked, your tone serious.

“We have a problem.” He answered.

“We?”

“Well I do, but you’ll have to fix it. It’s bad.” He spoke again.

You sighed again. “Everyone here already thinks I’m dating you. What could be worse?”

He fake gasped over the phone. “Wow that hurt. Okay but seriously, I spilled my drink all over my shirt. I have another set of clothes in the car. I need your help, please.”

“Where are you?” you asked, clearly annoyed but you had no other choice but to help him.

“Upstairs’ library.”

You ended the call in his face and sighed again. You swallowed the rest of your champagne and asked one of the guards who came with you to go get Bucky’s clothes. You managed to hide from the crowd and get to him in less than a few minutes.

And there he was, standing in the middle of the spacious library. Shirtless, hands in his pockets. And with his signature smirk on.

“That was quick.” He sounded amazed, “Can’t away from me for long, can you babe?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you one of his famous smirks.

You rolled your eyes at him and handed him the shirt and tie on a hanger. “Seriously, get dressed.” You wouldn’t lie, you did check him for a few seconds because sure he was an annoyance, but he had a body to die for. Abs, Adonis belt, a sinful trail of hair starting from his lower stomach all the way down to-

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere, stare all you want.” He sounded cocky once he caught you checking him out. He leaned in closer, “I’m all yours.”

You sighed again, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh please. I don’t have time for young, immature boys.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles and turned around to leave. But he stopped you again.

You turned back around to face him as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “What?” you sounded like you were done with him.

He didn’t say anything, he just lifted the tie up to your face and gave you another idiotic but somewhat adorable grin.

Of course, you should’ve known he couldn’t tie his own tie. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he didn’t know how to knot his own shoelaces. You grabbed the black tie and walked up to him, throwing it around his neck and stepped up closer to tie it into a perfect knot. He stared at you the whole time.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” he pointed out, with a big smile on his pretty face.

You glared at him, then looked back down to focus on getting the knot right. And he spoke up again, “I said, you’re really pretty y-,”

You cut him off. “I heard you the first time. I’m seven years older than you, so quit it.” you clarified, thinking the age gap would be a turn off for him. But it was quite the contrary.

He smirked when he heard that you were older. “That’s hot.” He commented, and honestly you expected no less from him. You glared at him again and he casually wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. So close that his lips almost touched yours.

You tried ignoring how your heart fluttered.

“I have a gun on me right now, I suggest you behave before I do something we both regret.” You spoke monotonously, as always and he just smirked.

“I get all tingly when you threaten me like that, babe.” He was incessant.

You abruptly tightened the tie way too much on purpose and his eyes widened for a second as he struggled to breathe for a moment. You pulled his face closer to yours by tugging on the tie. “Enough.” You whispered, looking him dead in the eyes and making it just a little uncomfortable for him to breathe.

You let go of him after a few seconds and walked away without another word said. And once again, he didn’t shut up when he should have. “You look even better when you’re walking away!” he called out after you and it took you all your willpower not to turn around and punch his perfect, chiseled face.

---

As you expected, Bucky didn’t give up trying to annoy you. Even days after the party, he wouldn’t stop following you around and annoying you at all times. But you had to put up with it, because you knew that the closer he is to you, the better you can watch over him. But oh God was he annoying.

He lazily walked over to the couch where you were sat at in the living room one afternoon. You were replying to some emails for work, and filling in Bucky’s dad at the same time. Of course, through text you made it seem like his son was perfect and well-behaved, when in reality… well, not so.

Bucky sighed dramatically, trying to get your attention but you purposely didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so you kept typing. He groaned and plopped down right next to you on the couch, and you didn’t have to turn your head to look at him to know that he was shirtless again, with that damn smirk on his pretty face.

“I’m bored.” He complained, whining like a child and he was sat so close to you that he was almost leaning on you. He casually placed his hand on your knee and you immediately slapped his hand away.

“Bucky, I’m working.” You said, using your ‘don’t disturb me’ voice. But he didn’t care. He never cared.

“But I’m bored.” He whined again, and took the liberty to just shut your laptop while you were clearly in the middle of some serious work. You didn’t want to waste energy on telling him off so you just closed your eyes, calmed yourself down and turned to face him finally.

He grinned like he won something. “Okay. What do you want?” you asked, keeping a polite face on so as not to give him one of your famous resting bitch faces.

He smirked. “You.” he answered with a wink and you rolled your eyes at him. And he quickly mumbled an apology that he didn’t mean and sat up straight. “Okay, let’s go out. I need to buy some stuff.”

You stared at him with a straight face, and sighed; agreeing. “Fine.” You stand up and walk towards your temporary bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to change.” You replied, without turning around.

He smirked to himself. “You don’t need to look extra pretty for me. I already like you quite a lot.” He didn’t get a reply this time, not even a glare. He just heard you sigh really loudly and slam the door of the bedroom shut really loudly. He chuckled to himself.

He waited for you at the stairs by the front door. And he had his sunglasses on so you didn’t see the way his eyes widened when he saw you step outside in another outfit; a bit more casual than your usual suits.

Black, long-sleeved turtle neck with a grey colored pleated tennis skirt. You looked… hot.

“Staring is rude.” You sasses once you noticed he was indeed eyeing you up and down.

He smirked as you walked past him and got down the stairs, making your way to the car which was waiting for the two of you.

“Didn’t take you to be a skirt kinda girl. You’re more like a sexy suits and guns kinda girl. I mean, I love it.” he took the liberty to comment on your style.

You stopped right before you got into the driver’s seat and faced him with another fake smile. “Yeah well, it’s practical. You can’t see the handgun in my thigh holster, can you?” you smirked and got into the car.

Bucky took a few seconds to process everything. As if your appearance and you being out of his league wasn’t torture enough, now he had the image of you with a thigh holster permanently in his brain. And oh was that doing things to him. He didn’t even know he liked older, badass women until now.

Now, he was crushing on you harder than he intended to.

He was just as audacious and flirty in the car as always. He said he wanted to shop so you took him to the chic and expensive part of the city; where the rich kids usually go to spend mommy and daddy’s money.

Sam and Peter were in the car as well. Because Bucky was unpredictable, and you could always use more security guards around him given he was an absolute man-child. And to annoy you even further, as you walked beside him from store to store, he held your hand in his.

You would always let go of his hand, but he’d reach out to grab it again tighter each time and at some point you gave up and let him hold your hand. Again, you couldn’t have him wander off on his own so the closer he was to you, the better. Sam and Peter followed you two, trying to blend in as much as possible.

Bucky kept carelessly buying everything that fit his aesthetic; shoes, watches, jackets and everything else he didn’t bother checking the price tags of. And while he was being a difficult client, trying on everything and making a mess, you just stood there on your phone – occasionally looking at him and rolling your eyes at how extra he was.

“Do you really need that many shoes and watches?” you complained, stepping out of yet another store and already making your way to the other one. You were getting tired, and you weren’t a women who quite like shopping in general, so Bucky was just too much.

“Hey, don’t judge. I have a rep to maintain, besides I…” Bucky kept talking as you entered the next very expensive looking boutique, your hand still in his but you zoned out completely as you caught the stare of another pair of familiar blue eyes right upon stepping into the building.

Steve.

You were somewhat surprised upon seeing him so unexpectedly. But then again, it wasn’t too surprising because he was a man with expensive taste as well. You lingered around Bucky while he looked around, but all your attention was on Steve – who stared at you. Or maybe he was staring at Bucky more.

Eventually, Bucky grabbed a ton of clothes and went on try them; leaving you behind. Sam and Peter were right outside in the car, but that meant that you were alone inside the spacious store and there was nowhere for you to go as Steve began walking towards you. For a second you debated stepping out and joining Sam and Peter in the car while you waited for Bucky, but it was too late, Steve was too close by the time you thought of it.

You panicked, but you had perfected the calm and composed face so you put that on as he got closer and closer. You knew there was no way you could avoid him now.

“Y/N, hey.” He greeted you with a smile.

You returned him a fake one. “Steve, hello.” You kept your voice steady and monotonous, not letting your irritation and uncomfortableness show.

He stepped closer like he was an old friend, invading your personal space like it was nothing. Then again, he never cared much about you. “How come you’re here? You don’t even like shopping.” He pointed out, surprising you with how he still remembered that little detail about you.

You maintained the fake smile on your face and crossed your arms over your chest out of habit. “Yeah well, people change Steve.”

He chuckled dryly. “Is it that boy you came with? Did he bring about that change?” he asked, clearly jealous and bitter – like he always was.

You smirked. “That’s none of your business.” You were still calm but you could see it in his eyes; his anger slowly building up.

He scoffed. “What, you’re dating young boys now? He looks too young for you, seriously Y/N.” Steve commented, rudely and stepped closer to you – forcing you to take a small step backwards. “You need a man to take care of you, remember that.” he whispered, reaching out to twirl a lock of your with his fingers.

You didn’t know what to say to him, but luckily you heard Bucky’s voice speak up behind Steve.

Bucky stepped out of the changing room with the piles of expensive jackets and sweaters he intended to buy and he stepped out with a grin, excited to see you roll your eyes at him. He enjoyed annoying you for some weird reasons. But his smiled morphed into a frown the moment he saw another man standing too close to you.

Bucky dumped all the clothes on the couch nearby and stared at the guy. Slightly long hair, facial hair, dressed in a sharp suit; the good looking bastard was talking to you, and Bucky didn’t like it. He approached the two of you, eavesdropping like it’s no one’s business.

“…You need a man to take care of you, remember that.” the guy said, while toying with a lock of your hair.

The audacity, Bucky thought to himself, I haven’t even touched her hair yet.

“She doesn’t need anybody. Now back the fuck away from my girl.” Bucky said out loud, not bothering about whether the workers heard or not. They probably did given they were most likely eavesdropping just like he was.

The guy turned around to face him. Bucky was ready to throw punches but the guy didn’t initiate anything so he kept his calm as well. But on the inside he was raging. He wondered why he was so bothered by some other man talking to you. Maybe, he liked you a lot more than he thought.

The guy scoffed and walked away without another word said, probably choosing not to make a scene. Once he left, Bucky looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And surprisingly, unlike Steve’s proximity, you didn’t mind Bucky’s.

You nodded and refused to look him in the eyes. He understood and grabbed your hand and walked out of the building and into the car.

After an exchange of drivers, all of you made your way home. You were quiet, as always, focusing on the road. But Bucky was quiet as well, which was weird. You wanted to comment on it, but you decided not to. It wasn’t uncomfortable anyways.

A few minutes later, he spoke up.

“That was Rogers, wasn’t it? Dad’s business rival?” he asked, referring to Steve.

You nodded.

“Do you… Is he… how do you… I mean, he’s-,” Bucky struggled to find the right way to ask you about how you know Steve like that. So you cut off his rambling and answered the question he truly had.

“He’s my ex.” You said.

And then the silence was back for a few minutes. Sam and Peter pretended not to be in the car.

Bucky spoke up again, “May I ask why you broke up? It’s none of my-,”

You cut him off and answered again. You had nothing to hide, besides, Bucky sort of saved you back there. “He wanted me to quit my job, and stay at home and have his children. But I wanted to work and settle down later in life so… yeah.” you simplified it as much as you could for him.

He nodded slowly, before scoffing loudly. “Well what an ass! He doesn’t deserve you. Anyone worth being with you would be so fucking proud of what a badass woman you are. And how well you do your job and manage all of this all on your own. I mean, you’re beautiful as hell too and I-,”

You cut him off again, with a genuine smile and shaking your head at him. “Alright, alright enough buttering me up. What do you want?” you asked, smirking.

He gasped dramatically. “What? No, I meant what I said. You’re beautiful and amazing and badass.” He truly meant it. He hadn’t realized he admired you so much. He had never felt like this, so to lighten up the mood he added, “But since you’re asking, can I please go out with my friends tonight, alone?” as expected, he asked with an adorable face.

The kind you have problem saying no to. But you absolutely had to.

“No. Your dad strictly said no parties, no clubbing, no coming home drunk. You’re not in uni anymore, Bucky. When you’re dad gets back, you will join the business and someday, you’ll take over. You need to start acting responsible.” you repeated his dad’s words to him and he almost whined like the spoilt brat he is.

“But it’s not a party.” He argued. “I won’t get drunk.”

You turned to look at him briefly. “What is it then?”

“It’s a thing.” He replied. This man was seriously a 5 year old child.

“What thing?” you asked in your serious voice and he sulked.

“Just a thing.” He said, looking down at his lap. Just looking at him would tell you that he hadn’t heard ‘no’ a lot in his life.

“No. And stop sulking, you’re twenty five years old. Act like it.” you announced your final decision that he’s not allowed to leave the house alone. Definitely not for a party.

And you expected him to listen and not make things more difficult for you. But you should’ve known that Bucky wasn’t one to behave.

---

You woke up around 2 a.m. to countless messages, missed calls and emails. Your phone kept going off non-stop so you decided to check it. Some of the other members of the teams kept sending you screenshots of paparazzi pics of Bucky at some illegal car race taking place in the outskirts of the city.

And you were confused for a minute, because hours ago he said he was going to bed. You grabbed your phone tightly in your hand and jumped out of your bed, and ran upstairs. Your rapid footsteps on the stairs seemed to have caught Sam and Peter’s attention as well because they happened to be right behind you when you rushed into Bucky’s empty room.

He wasn’t here. He must’ve snuck out to go to a freaking car race!

“Why didn’t the alarm go off?” you turned to face the two guards and they looked at you sheepishly. Oh this was bad.

“He must’ve turned it off before leaving.” Peter answered, just as worried as you were. All of your jobs could be at stake here. But of course, the spoilt brat didn’t care about any of that.

“I don’t care what it takes but find him. And bring him home. I need to make a few calls and have these pictures taken down before his father finds out. Go, now!” you raised your voice a little and Sam and Peter rushed out of the room. And a few seconds later you heard two cars leaving the property.

Meanwhile, you were worried sick and angry and scared. You grabbed your phone and proceeded to disturb a lot of people who could help you take these pictures down before Mr. Barnes finds out.

You also made a mental note to have a talk with Bucky when he does eventually come back home. You would try not to lose your temper, but it seems like he needs to be given a lecture about all the things he’s not allowed to do. Disabling the alarm and sneaking out for example.

You promised you would keep your calm. And that you would talk to him without losing your temper. But the minute he walked into the house, at around 6 a.m., accompanied by Sam and Peter who somehow managed to find him at some beach and dragged him out of a party and now brought him home.

You saw the smirk on his clearly somewhat drunk face and your anger took over.

“Hi beautiful.” He said, smirking and then pointed to both guards, “You sent a search party, looks like you missed me.” He sassed.

And you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your anger could be seen on your face as you marched towards him rapidly, and out of nowhere grabbed him by the collar threateningly. You were livid. And Sam and Peter chose to stay out of this one because oh boy, you weren’t one to mess with when you were angry.

“When the hell will you fucking learn, huh?” you yelled in his face.

He was still sobering up thanks to the coffee Sam got him but even he knew that he had messed up this time by the look on your face. He was surprised at how physical you were. Part of him knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but feel a rush either. He was torn between scared of what your anger will entail, but also being turned on a little.

“Where the fuck have you been? Your dad specifically asked for you not to go out on your own because he has not been seeing eye-to-eye with a lot of people lately! And there is a lot more people than you think out there who could be after you just to hurt you and mess with your dad!” you yelled and Bucky was surprised.

He didn’t know this. Neither did Sam and Peter or the rest of the guys. Mr. Barnes trusted you immensely, so he told you some of his dark secrets. This was one of them, which is why he was so strict regarding the rules Bucky had to follow now that he was back home. And this revelation shocked everyone in the room.

You tugged on his collar a little more, and his body jerked forward a little and he was surprised at how physically strong you were. But he still didn’t say a word. “Do you know how many phone calls I had to make to take those pictures down and make sure your dad doesn’t find out? But you don’t care, do you?”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at your words.

“You don’t care about anyone else but you! You are a spoilt, selfish brat! I know you’re not used to it, but at least try, damn it! Try and care about your dad’s reputation, about our jobs which involves taking care of your ungrateful, stuck up ass!”

He had never felt so guilty before, nor had anyone ever dared to point out his mistakes so vividly like you did just now. And you weren’t wrong, Bucky never cared about the consequences of his actions. Let alone about how his reckless habits could affect someone else.

“Disabling the alarm and sneaking out, look I don’t know who the fuck you think you are Bucky, but you sure as hell aren’t a kid anymore! Fucking act like an adult!” you yelled again.

He hadn’t thought, before sneaking out, that if anything bad does happen; you might lose your job. Not just you, but all the guards and everyone else in your team. And now he was ashamed.

With one last tug, you let go of his collar and panted, trying to control your breathing and anger. You stepped away and pressed the top of the bridge of your nose; already feeling a headache forming due to all the stress. You ran a hand over your face, sighing in relief that he was home but also in annoyance at how childish and careless he could be.

“Now go shower, get some sleep and sober up.” You looked up into his ocean blue eyes which showed nothing but guilt and shame, as they should. “And for fuck’s sake, stop making my life a living hell.” You spat bitterly and turned around to walk away.

You still had a lot to do and take care of today, and this day began with a rough start and you didn’t even get a good night of sleep. And it was barely even 7 a.m. yet, to say you were cranky would be an understatement.

You had extra work to do today, given Bucky’s previous rebellious actions. Along with the usual work load you had, which made today extra hectic and your mood was off as well. Your team had dealt with the paparazzi situation wonderfully. Mr. Barnes didn’t know a thing. But that didn’t mean that you were on speaking terms with Bucky.

You saw him less than usual throughout the day. Once in the kitchen, where you were making coffee and he dropped by to try and talk to you but he saw the look on your face and turned back around without saying a word. Then another time when you were in the living room, and he walked by without saying a word. The tension between the two of you was real.

He felt so guilty that it seemed like it was eating him alive. Plus, he hated how your mood was shitty all because of him. He wanted to apologize, but couldn’t. He didn’t know how to, because he never had to. But he knew he should. Because he messed up big time, driven by his arrogance and recklessness.

He hated how you were mad at him. He realized that these past weeks, the highlights of his days has been getting your attention and watch you roll your eyes at him, and replying to his sarcasm with even more sarcasm. Now his day just seemed dry and empty, and he wanted so badly to make things right.

You weren’t exactly ecstatic after yelling at him like that either. Usually your days consisted of shaking your head at Bucky’s silly messages and replying to none of them, or trying so hard not to laugh at his terrible jokes, and allowing him to hold your hand in his whenever you were out. You wouldn’t lie, you did miss his harmless mischief.

But he had to be told off. He was getting way out of hand.

You turned in for the night earlier than usual, and right when you got out of the shower someone knocked on your bedroom door. Forgetting that you were in your bathrobe, you rushed to open the door thinking it might be one of the guards coming to tell you that Bucky had run off again.

But you were somewhat surprised when you found Bucky himself standing on the other side, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You didn’t say anything, you let him feel the awkward silence, and he deserved it. But then it got way too quiet so you spoke up.

“Don’t you own a shirt?” you asked, leaning against the door frame and eyeing his perfect body. He was shirtless again, what’s new.

Bucky tried so hard not to look at your cleavage, but he failed miserably. “I do. I just thought that if I look hot enough, you’d maybe forgive me quicker.” He voiced out his inner thoughts shamelessly.

You sighed. Guess he’ll never grow up, huh?

“Is this how you apologize after almost fucking up all of our lives and jeopardizing my job?” you asked, sarcastically in a monotonous tone for extra effect.

He sighed and looked down. Bad idea because now he got a good view of your legs peeking through the slit of the robe. He was once again, torn – debating between begging for your forgiveness or just say ‘fuck it’ and lean in for that kiss he’s been desperate for since he saw you.

He went with the latter.

Bucky barely gave you time to process anything as he gently pushed you inside the room, shut the door behind him, wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body closer to his as he placed his mouth on yours.

You were surprised, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t hate it. He kissed you feverishly, with ardor and passion and everything else he felt for you. He poured it all out through the kiss. Like he was coaxing you into forgiving him.

Bucky’s mouth moved perfectly with yours, his arms tightened their grip around your waist and your hands slid into his hair. You tugged on it gently as he started walking the two of you backwards, towards the bed.

He laid you down on the mattress and climbed on top of you, still not breaking the kiss. And you had to admit, he was a great kisser. He nibbled on your lower lip before pushing his tongue past your lips; gently stroking the top of your mouth while his hand slowly undid the knot at the front of your robe. Once it loosened enough, he reached out to grab your left breast; squeezing it and making you whine under him.

He smirked through the kiss. He had been waiting for this for way too long and now he finally had you. Bucky further unwrapped the robe from around your body and toyed with your breasts while he kissed you deeply. And when one of his hands started slowly making its way down your body and between your legs, that’s when you pulled away from the kiss and stared into his eyes; breathless from his kiss.

Bucky panicked. What if you pushed him off now? Or worse, what if he had angered you even more?

But instead, you smirked and pushed him down; flipping the two of you around so that now you straddled him. You settled comfortably around his waist, your robe barely covering your body but neither one of you cared. Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust.

You leaned down to gently brush your lips with his. His hands immediately rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. “You put me in a lot of trouble today, you know that?” you whispered, your lips brushing with his ever so gently with each word and his heart raced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.�� he mumbled, reaching up to try and press his lips to yours, but you pulled away really quickly.

“Sorry doesn’t make it better.” you spoke sternly. “You’re still a spoilt brat.”

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist; your core pressing down on his crotch. “And what are you gonna do about it?” he sassed and tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating as you reached out to slowly traced his mouth with your finger.

He bit his lip as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs; so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. You smirked when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your almost naked body.

“You need to learn how to do as you’re told sometimes.” You trailed your fingertips back up his body, making him squirm just a little and you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look you in the eyes. “Understood? Or do you need to be taught?” your tone sounded a lot more stern that you intended.

Bucky was pleasantly surprised. He nodded rapidly, trying to hide his smirk as the look on your face let him know that he was in for a ride. “Think I need to be taught.” He whispered, looking into your eyes to find lust, and hunger – same as his.

You smiled at his answer. Of course he did. “Very well then.” And without another word said, you grabbed both his hands and pulled them away from your body and pinned both of his wrists above his head, down on the pillows. “Keep them there.” You ordered.

But as usual, he didn’t have the habit of listening so he moved his hands back on you, pulling you closer and caressing your skin. He just needed to touch you. But you were running out of patience. You grabbed both his hands and pinned them above his head again. “I said, keep them there.” You said slowly, in a strict voice.

He smirked at first, but upon seeing that you were reaching for the black tie on your bedside table, his smile faded but he felt all tingly and his body throbbed in anticipation.

You grabbed the tie you had carelessly thrown there a day or two ago and carefully tied his wrists together. The cool, silky fabric against his skin made his heart skip a beat. You then secured his wrists to the part metal part wooden headboard. Your breasts were right in his face as you did so but he didn’t mind it.

Once done, you straightened your back to get a good look at him; beneath you, tied up and lips parted as he awaited what’s next. You smirked at how he gave you his famous puppy dog eyes. But no matter what, he wasn’t getting out of this so easily this time.

Oh no, you were planning on messing with him and toying with him until he can’t physically take it. And that’s exactly what you did.

You took off his sweatpants, and underwear then finally your robe. And as you did, his cock erected even more; standing proud and tall. Bucky’s face was flushed, and you could tell he was flustered and hot and bothered already – and you had barely touched him yet.

“Think you can always have your way, don’t you?” your voice barely above a whisper as you settle on his right thigh. You bit your lip the minute you felt his warm, smooth skin press against your wet core. You rolled your hips gently against his thigh and you felt the familiar tingle dance down your spine.

Bucky watched you ride his thigh slowly; lips parted, his cock beginning to throb and leak. He knew then that this was going to be a long, hard night for him.

You pressed both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him right where he needed you as you worked to get yourself off by humping his thigh. You were leaving behind a damp patch on his skin and he bit his lip as he watched you; breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you made yourself cum.

He watched how your soft moans got louder and how you humped his thigh faster, getting higher… and higher… you tilted your head back, purposely putting up a show just for him. He groaned when you whined wantonly, and he gently lifted his thigh – pressing further into your clit. He felt your wetness smearing all over his skin and he hopelessly wanted a taste.

Bucky’s cock was leaking embarrassingly by the time you came undone above him, leaving him still hard and throbbing.

“Please…” he murmured as he watched you come down from your high. He was desperate, and hungry and he just wanted you wrapped around him. He needed to feel you, and your warmth.

You smirked as you slowed down and finally came to a stop, still straddling his thigh. “Please..” you mocked him, chuckling. “You’ve always had things handed to you on a platter. You’ve never known patience, or how to ask nicely, have you?” you smirked again, leaning in to trace his lips with your tongue. “Well you will today.”

You gave him a brief kiss before finally wrapping your hand around his cock. He almost whimpered as he closed his eyes and relished your touch. He felt thick and hard, and big. You lazily stroked his length, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you kissed your way down his neck. You kissed his skin feverishly; leaving your marks behind as you bit and sucked on Bucky’s skin around the base of his throat; making him shudder in pleasure and moan sinfully.

You pulled away after a while to look at him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and with his lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth; completely under your mercy. You smirked at how pre cum started dripping down his cock, and you knew that he was getting more and more desperate by how he kept murmuring please…please…please.

“Come on now, ask nicely.” You teased, knowing damn well you wouldn’t let him cum so easily.

Bucky groaned and opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes were darker, his gaze more intense and he tried to thrust his cock into your hand but then gave up because each time he did, you would just let go of his length. So he just let you toy with him however you liked, he took whatever you gave him.

“Please… please make me cum.” He whispered, voice strained and weak.

You chuckled as you felt him twitch in your grasp. “No.” you simply said and released him, leaving him right on the edge. He was still hard and throbbing and desperate. You leaned down to kiss him on his hip bones, gently kisses on each side and you heard him groan and squirm.

You smirked and kissed your way up his body. Eventually making your way up his body so you were straddling his face. Your hips wrapped around his head as he looked up at you. None of you minded the intimate position, he was just happy to finally touch you again. Bucky looked up at you with hunger in his eyes. And you smirked as you lowered your wet core to his mouth.

Bucky wasted no time, his mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue took in whatever you gave him. He worked his mouth at your entrance like his life depended on it. Sucking and licking and shoving his tongue past your wet folds, he ate you out like there’s no tomorrow, occasionally moving his head side to side.

You moaned out loud, throwing your head back as one of your hands held the head board for support and the other tangled in Bucky’s hair. His tongue worked wonders against your sensitive clit, making you feel all tingly and warm as you dripped all over his mouth.

“You taste so good…” he murmured against your wet folds and you very gently rolled your hips against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lips and chin; he licked a hot, thick stripe from your entrance up to your clit, with his teeth grazing it until he had you moaning loudly against him.

Your hips bucked against his face as he licked each and every drop of what you gave him. He closed his eyes and hummed loudly at your taste, making you whine and for a moment, you forgot that you weren’t supposed to be giving him the satisfaction. He was just that good and skilled with his tongue. Bucky adored the sounds you made above him. He even forgot that he was himself, throbbing with need. He was just hell bent on making you cum all over his tongue.

He had been fantasizing about this, about having your thighs wrapped around his head and to taste you and make you cum all over his tongue. And you soon realized that you were letting him have his way, so you pulled away quickly.

Bucky’s eyes shot open, “No please… I want more,” he complained, whining as you moved away from his face and kissed your way down his body again. And he was giving you the puppy dog eyes again. You almost gave in but you weren’t entirely done with him yet.

He whimpered as you slowly kissed your way down his body again; down his neck, across his bare chest and all the way to his thick, erected cock. Without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. And he moaned out loud, mindlessly. You placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip.

You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on his perfect face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked handsome, completely at your mercy.

The gasps and moans which escaped his lips as he squirmed made you smirk. It only made you want to tease him even more, and keep him on the edge. His breathy moans, his soft gasps and the way he whimpered at your touch – it made you feel even more powerful than usual. He moaned and panted; murmuring your name over and over again, begging you to speed up already and make him cum. Bucky relished the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, perfect like he had dreamt of so often.

He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. You slowed down, not wanting to grant him the satisfaction just yet. You took him out of your mouth; licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. Bucky moaned, his voice cracking; making him sound weak and desperate.

He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily. You chuckled as he tried thrusting his hips up, hoping that you would stop messing with him already. Your ability of bringing him right to the edge and mercilessly keeping him there for as long as you wished to was driving him insane.

Bucky lost all self-control the moment you sank down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him; making him swear under his breath and groan. You lean in and caress his face, looking him deep in his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. He was quite a sight; all muscular and strong, and handsome but tied to your bed at your mercy. You chuckled and leaned in to bite his lip, tugging on it as you pulled away, surely making him lose his mind.

You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. Just when you felt him twitch inside you, you lifted your hips up and pulled him out of you and watched him whine and smirked at his helplessness.

“Come on, ask nicely.” You teased. “Beg.” You said more sternly, whispering against his mouth; lips hovering above his parted ones. You leaned in to kiss his open mouth carelessly. And in that moment, he was ready to do anything for you, to please you.

“Y/n… please...” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. But you heard it. His desperation was quite clear. And he was so sensitive, from all that teasing, that once you started riding him again; he began to thrust his hips up trying to match your movements. But you messed with him even then, you slowed down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you sped up when he least expected it.

At some point, he was nothing but a sweaty, moaning mess under you; messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. But you wanted more, you wanted to hear him whine some more, you wanted to hear how desperate he could get. You messed with him for as long as you could, and Bucky got loud, very loud; growling as you teased him, and whining your name whenever you kept him on the edge for too long. You alternated between having him in your mouth and riding his cock, and there was nothing else he could focus on in that moment.

Just you. Only you. He was yours; yours to toy with and tease, yours to use as you pleased.

You eventually gave in; seeing he was physically worn out. And you fucked his brains out, making him cum in no time. Your walls clenched around him; gripping him and milking him perfectly. He was completely at your mercy, begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. His heart raced, he was breathing hard and fast after you were done with him. You kissed his chest, murmuring how good he was.

“Now, will you finally learn how to behave and do as you’re told?” you gripped his jaw gently, and looked deep into his eyes while you spoke. His hands were still tied, and sore and they were itching to just reach out and touch you.

Bucky nodded frantically. You smiled.

He stayed in your bed long after you two were done. He was clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree, shamelessly using your bare chest as a pillow. Your hand ran lazily into his hair and you smiled at how warm he felt. Sure, he was a tall and muscular man but he snuggled up to you like a child. You could feel his warm puffs of air hit your skin each steadily. You thought he was asleep but then he spoke up.

“Are you awake?” he asked, voice groggy and strained; deep.

“No.” you answered and waited for his reaction. And a few seconds later he lifted his head up to glare at you. You giggled at the face he made. After giving you a dirty glare, he got back to using your breasts as a pillow.

“Will you go out with me?” he spoke up again, asking you out.

“That’s not appropriate. I’m your dad’s employee.” you were starting to feel the day’s fatigue take over you slowly. You yawned right after speaking.

“Yeah? And what about what just happened? Is that appropriate?” he asked.

You sighed. “Go to sleep Bucky.” Truth is, you didn’t know what this was. But you wouldn’t lie, despite being annoying, it was hard not to love him.

He didn’t say anything. He pulled you closer and got on top of you, pinning you down on the bed this time. “Do you not like me?” he asked.

“I do! Get off, you’re heavy!” you giggled as he put all of his body weight on you.

“Then take responsibility for your actions. You stole my heart and now I’m in love with you.” he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone which made you laugh. “Look I’m hot and cute, it’s hard being both. I am smart,” he was listing and as soon as he said smart, you raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly. “I have a university degree to prove it, okay?” he resumed listing his qualities. “I’ll keep you away from crazy exes, and I will get you a puppy if you w-,”

You cut him off with a kiss. He sure was adorable. “Okay, okay stop.” You mumbled against his lips. “Your dad’s gonna kill me if we date.” You groaned thinking about what would happen if Mr. Barnes finds out.

Bucky kissed you deeply, then pulled away to look at you. “No he won’t. Dad likes you. Even if he tries to, I’ll protect you. I’m very strong as you can see.” He mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and making you giggle given you were ticklish.

“A big baby is what you are.” You corrected him. He chuckled.

“Please just give me a chance. I really, really like you.” he said, sincerely.

You gave it a thought. You liked him too. “Okay.” You said. He pulled away and smiled down at you. “I like you too.” You spoke again and Bucky leaned in to kiss you again.

Little did you know that giving him a chance would end up being the best decision you ever made…

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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sneezefiction · 3 years

Text

untouchable | vi

Atsumu x Reader

desc: in which an accidental run-in with pro volleyball player, Atsumu Miya, at a 7/11 leads to a strangers-to-lovers situation… but the catch is, you have no idea that he’s famous.

warnings: slight language, anxiety

wc: 6.6k

part 5 ⚬ part 6 ⚬ part 7

untouchable m.list

—

Recap:

And for the first half of this year you found yourself falling in love. Falling for this second glance of a man.

So finding out that Izumi Kenji had a partner was a punch to the gut.

Reaching for his hand that summer was a defining moment for you. The way he snatched his hand away from yours would have knocked all the air out of your lungs if you’d had any breath to spare.

—

Laughter echoes off the sides of buildings as you make your way past food stalls and restaurants. It’s warm. A gentle breeze tussles his hair, different strands catching purple and orange light from the store signs.

There are several things that are begging to hold your attention right now.

A new café to your right is stringing a “Grand Opening” banner across its shop doors. Bike bells ring off in the distance, the wheels gently thrumming against dusty cobblestone. Groups of teenagers snicker as they pass you by, their voices carefree and teasing. Two dogs tread loyally next to their owners on the other side of the street, their claws clicking as their paws hit the pavement.

But even among all of those distractions and details, all you can see is him. The mop of messy hair atop his head. His umber brown eyes. A curious smile.

Izumi Kenji had stolen your heart slowly and carefully; he did so without a balaclava or a disguise to lure you in. And as you meander the downtown area with him, your fondness for him only grows.

Meeting him at that after-work party may have been the best thing that happened to you this year. You were comfortable - in the middle of a bar, talking to a stranger and laughing with him. And who were you to turn down the one good thing life had sent your way.

Although, with how nonexistent your social life was, you would’ve let almost anyone into your social circle. You just deem yourself lucky that it was Kenji who happened to be in your vicinity.

He’d ended up asking for your number at the end of the night - you rattled off the digits faster than you could blink.

“...if you ever need anything, just send me a text.”

It was an outstretched hand of a sentence. A bone thrown to a starving dog. Finally, there was a person you could rely on.

You took his words to heart.

After that night, it was almost unfair how easily he broke down your barriers.

It was Kenji who took you sightseeing through all of Osaka in the Winter months, making sure that you’d mapped out the area so that you were more comfortable when you went exploring on your own. Your snow boots and his became well acquainted.

He’d shown you his favorite eateries and shops, rambling quietly about his favorite pastries and old, dusty memories that came from his time spent in the area.

His jacket made its way to your shoulder when you visibly shuddered from the cold as Winter shifted to Spring. And as Summer approached, you allowed yourself to let your guard down. With distant eyes, you learned about his family and his plans. You wondered if maybe there was a place for you in that future.

Any doubts about this connection you had with him had melted away.

He was your closest friend by far… and who’s to say he couldn’t be more?

You glance to your left, a small smile working its way onto your lips. Kenji’s eyes wander the street, completely lost in thought. His expression is serene under the violet glow of street lights.

And his hand… his hand is achingly close to your own.

Its a position you frequently found yourself in: walking side by side, almost touching, but never quite close enough to grasp at his hand.

You’ve never really seen yourself as someone to make first moves, but this has gone on for too long. And your fingertips are begging you to do something about this distance between you two.

You swallow hard.

Choking back your hesitation, you brush your hand against his.

He doesn’t pull away, only sending you a quick glance. Kenji’s soft smile doesn’t budge, though he does raise an eyebrow at you.

You assume that this is a good sign. He doesn’t seem uncomfortable, the moment feels natural, and this… this could actually work.

You take one more deep breath and gingerly link your fingers with his-

But before you can even blink, Kenji snaps his hand back to his side. His head whips toward you, feet stopping in their tracks.

“What… what are you doing,” he stammers, eyes widening.

You wince. That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping for. Far from it.

“I think that’s-” You glance down at your rejected hand, eyes wide, “-kind of obvious.”

He stares at you, mouth agape. You take a step back, heart dropping. Why would he pull his hand back? Did I do something wrong-

“I’m seeing someone-” He breathes, “-you knew that.”

Like a tree branch splintering after a lightning strike, you feel as though something inside of you has cracked and split.

Your body can’t decide if your blood should turn to ice from shock or if it should succumb to the heat of humiliation rising in your chest. How did you not know this?

And why hadn’t you just asked him first?

That’s what normal people did. If you hadn’t acted based on a silly impulse maybe you would have spoken to him about your relationship with him first… but it’s too late now. And the pressure continues to build up in your stomach until you feel like a balloon on the verge of popping.

“...you knew that… didn’t you?”

Something sharp stabs at your heart.

“I had no idea.” Your reply is flat. Distant.

It twists.

“I- I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn I’d told you…” He responds softly.

In a tearing motion, it rips back out.

“No. You hadn’t.” You say curtly, eyes glazing over.

You let on to the bitterness welling up in your chest more than you wish you would have… but who could blame you?

Tucking your hands deep into your pants pockets, you try to hold your composure.

Your mouth is uncomfortably dry and your hands are suddenly very sweaty.

What does someone do in a situation like this?

You’d always assumed that this was the type of thing to happen to somebody else. Thinking that feelings were mutual and then being struck with the fact that your “almost-boyfriend” was actually already deep into a relationship. It sounds like something out of a teenage romance novel... but it’s clear that the shame clouding your mind is not secondhand.

Unintentionally or not, Kenji had led you on… and here you are, feeling like you’ve just been publicly gutted.

He doesn’t owe you anything. No, not at all.

If anything, you owe him for all of the kindness he’s extended to you.

But that doesn’t explain everything he’s done for you these past few months.

Paying for meals even though you’d practically fought him for bills at every restaurant you’d visited together. Spending hours together on weekends when you both had work to complete. Meeting his friends, taking the train together on days when your schedules collided, exploring the city and your past with him…

You’d wondered why he hadn’t asked you out yet.

It didn’t make any sense.

Maybe he was confused too?

A thought crosses your mind that maybe he may have been using you as some sort of support system. Maybe you were just let into his life to comfort him through his own relational instability. Were you just Kenji’s escape? Is he just completely unaware?

But now you’re just jumping to conclusions. It might not be anything of the sort. Trying to piece together a story that doesn’t add up in the first place won’t help you at all - at least, not right after such a blatant rejection.

You take another step back, effectively tuning out anything he has to say. The light on his face no longer reflects something inviting; instead, all you can see is the confusion marring his previously peaceful expression.

He’s trying to talk to you, he’s taking steps toward you, he’s even reaching a hand out… but you just can’t. Not with the discomfort in your chest and a thundercloud of tension rumbling above you.

You can’t remember what shitty excuse you’d made to get out of there, but not even 10 minutes after this awkward, messy, fucked up moment, you’re on a train back home.

And everything is numb.

The shuffle and shake of the passenger car is enough to distract you for now.

But the moment you get home - the very second you kick off your shoes - insecurity comes knocking at the door of your mind.

You lay face down on the couch. The room stirs in darkness, gloom sinking into the cracks of the wall and pooling at the corners of your eyes. Because how was this fair? What had you done to deserve this? Was nothing going to be easy for you?

You let yourself cry.

Questions swim through your mind. Fears too. The pain of, once again, being alone exposes itself through heavy tears and spluttering sobs.

So you attempt to bury it all deep down...

As far from the surface as it can go...

But as most things do, these questions and insecurities will resurface.

It’s only a matter of time.

—

You noticed it from the moment you woke up.

The stiffness in your arms and the churning in your stomach were telltale signs… but as the hours rolled on and the sun sunk lower in the sky, it became more obvious.

Your lungs were fine yesterday, but today they shrink and tighten with every passing minute.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you’ve switched on the TV and turned to Netflix for comfort. It isn’t much, but the modulated noise of a baking show and a warm blanket draped over your lap blocks out some of the dizzying worries in your head.

First date nerves are a thing.

The clammy palms, the jitters, the loss of appetite… you have it all.

You’re well aware that this is a universal experience, so you try to empathize with yourself. There’s no reason to be embarrassed by it. Shame would only drag you deeper into this muddy pit of nerves that you’re so desperately trying to claw your way out of.

But this technically isn’t even a date.

And you’re not about to assume that it’s anything like one.

Just to be safe, you’ve decided that this outing would blandly be categorized as a “sporadic meet up with a stranger.” Your words, not Atsumu’s.

But just because it isn’t technically a date doesn’t mean you can’t be jittery…

You grip the remote in your hand tighter. It accidentally shuts the TV off, but that’s probably for the better. You haven’t gotten ready yet and it’s getting close to 5 pm. Somehow you’d managed to snuggle the day away in your apartment. Again.

Letting out an anxious yawn, you hop up from your nestled position on the couch.

You step into the hallway and make your way to the bathroom to wash your face. As you patter the length of the hall, you finally allow your mind to roam. It immediately hones in on your anxieties like a dog chasing a delightfully peeved squirrel.

Is it pathetic? To be 20 something years old and petrified by something as simple as a dinner date?

Your brain says “no,” but a part of you is whispering out a quiet “yes” in response. Most people would be excited to see someone after being lonely for so long.

So why are you this bothered? What’s with this piercing fragility that makes your hands shake and your skin crawl?

When did you become so… scared? Like you would crumble just by being in the presence of another person?

And then it hits you. Your head plummets into your hands.

Ever since you’d met Atsumu, you haven’t had the mental stamina to think about Izumi Kenji.

Or what he’d done to you. Or how he’d metaphorically pushed you when you were already toeing at the precipice of a cliff. You’d been a step away from falling and breaking under the weight of the past few years, and he’d shattered you in a single night.

So, yes, that would explain the current twisting in your chest. It’s also probably why you’re so worried about Atsumu. Or, at least, it’s one big reason as to why, you conclude.

But, even with this epiphany, you find yourself stepping into the bathroom, wrung dry and physically unsteady. Thinking about Kenji doesn’t make you feel any better.

Your fingers grip the rim of the porcelain sink, eyes fixed on the drain in the center.

You stare at it.

One reminder of him and you were already weary.

The glossiness of the bowl reflects a splotchy, humanesque blob back at you. You swivel the faucet handle, letting warm water coast around the bowl and spiral down the drain. It erases that human-like reflection.

If only it could wash away your problems. Now that’d be something to write home about.

The cool of the tile beneath your feet and a splash of warm water on your face is a welcome distraction… but short-lived. The water drips off of your face. You blindly feel around for a fresh towel and, after laying your hands on one, you gently pat your face down.

Blinking your eyes open, you stand up straight.

As you do, you find yourself studying a much clearer reflection than the blurry face in the sink bowl. Sunken features bore into you from the bathroom mirror. You sigh and turn to open up a medicine cabinet to grab a few facial products, applying them one-by-one.

If you do happen to crash and burn tonight, you figure you might as well look damn good in the process. Skincare would help with that.

But before you can further sink into the idea that tonight might turn into another nightmarish scenario, a friendly face, someone sunny and charming, enters your mind.

The picture Atsumu’s wavy hair and that smug smile of his. While the rest of his face is a little fuzzy in your mind, you vividly remember how his mouth quirk upwards and the electric buzz you felt from the sheer warmth of his eyes.

Atsumu has been on your mind a lot these days. And, as much as it’s been a distraction, it’s also been a welcome mental detour.

Somehow, the very thought of him coaxes your own lips to relax into a smile. You sigh, tilting your head back in defeat. So this is what 3 years of loneliness can do to a person - how embarrassing.

But you can’t deny that he gives you something to look forward to - an emotion you can’t quite put your finger on. You two share a connection; there’s some common ground that hasn’t been dug up just yet. And, for whatever it’s worth, you want to keep digging until you figure it out.

As you smooth a moisturizer over your skin, you decide that you’ll wear something nice tonight. Maybe you’ll pick out an outfit you haven’t worn before and do your best to drown your shaky hands in the fabric of a long-sleeved shirt. If it goes well, maybe you’ll have found someone who actually likes you.

If it doesn’t work out, you can just drive back home and forget he ever existed. Simple as that.

But...

You’d like to think that Atsumu could be just as sweet as he seems; assuming the worst about him would get you nowhere.

You continue to repeat that to yourself before you leave. That all you can do is hope it goes well.

Nothing more, nothing less.

—

You rest your foot firmly on the brake and switch the gearshift so that your car is in park. You rub your eyes and double-check the location on your phone’s GPS. Back at your apartment, it looked like you would be arriving at a café near the park… but you’re not so sure anymore.

Did… did Atsumu really send you here?

You never entertained the idea of him being a prankster… but if this was, perhaps, a practical joke? Well, you’re not above calling him and telling him to “fuck off.” There’s nothing stopping you from driving away and blocking his number right now.

Scrolling through the map application, you notice that you’re relatively close to several restaurants, so there is that. He’d promised you dinner and there’s an abundance of food within walking distance.

But you weren’t expecting to pull up to such a secluded location. You shiver in your seat and grip the steering wheel. Does he realize just how scary it is to meet someone at a random place like this?

Whipping out your phone, you tap a quick message containing something along the lines of “why the hell did you send me to a park.” Your therapist would probably give you a high-five for being so straightforward.

You hit send and sink into your chair.

A brief glance out your car window helps to settle your frayed nerves just a hair.

It’s not quite as empty as you thought it was. The area is just… calm. Many couples stroll along the main path, hand-in-hand. Others are sat on picnic blankets, tucking their toes into the cool grass and chattering away.

And, most comfortingly of all, it’s still bright outside.

You thank the sun that it still rests above the horizon, drenching the trees tops and green grass with deep-honey hues. People and daylight mean safety. You’ve had to learn that after living alone for so long.

A text notification pings on your phone only seconds after messaging him.

You’ll give him some credit. Atsumu is a timely texter. You’ve found yourself in more real-time texting conversations with him than almost anyone else you’ve met in Osaka. And it’s been how long since you met him? A few weeks? A month?

Atsumu’s text reassures you that you’re not at the wrong place.

At least the park was intentional, you nod to yourself. You’re doing your best to trust that he wouldn’t take you somewhere that would make you uncomfortable.

Another text informs you that he’s already seated on a bench near where you parked.

Your heart skips a beat and your head jolts upward, scanning the area. A hand also shoots up to clutch at your chest, gripping the fabric of your top.

Yep. You’re still jumpy.

But this time, the shaky hands and pounding nerves are rooted in restlessness instead of fear… and maybe a little bit of excitement?

Suddenly, the park is far less frightening.

You step out of the car, wallet and keys in one hand, and smooth out your outfit with your free hand. The wind nips at you through the fabric of your clothes, but with the sunshine painting your skin, it isn’t too bad.

Maybe bringing a coat would’ve been wiser than relying on this sweater to keep you warm… but it’s too late to think about that now.

Your eyes dart around and you trod through the grass and onto a graveled pathway. It crunches satisfyingly underneath your feet, but you can’t enjoy it when you’re so intent on finding him. With a few short strides, you’re quick to spot the back of someone’s head. A familiar head of blonde waves shines golden thanks to the setting sun.

You’re almost entirely sure it’s Atsumu.

And as if he had sensed your presence, the man in question tilts a glance over his shoulder.

His face is blank until he catches your eye.

An easy grin, one brighter than the stars, bursts into existence.

For someone so conventionally attractive, he sure looks excited to see little ole you. Raising your hand, you wave and send him a shy smile back.

He’s quick to jump to his feet and as he does, you’re quickly reminded of just how tall he is. Atsumu’s head matches the height of several tree branches. It makes you think that he’s probably walked into a number of things. Door headers, branches, signs that are hung a couple of inches too low… you’re sure he’s learned to duck and dodge over the years.

You wish you could ask him about that.

You blink.

That’s right. You can ask him about that - you’ll do that later, though.

“Hey there.” He chuckles.

His voice… it’s huskier than you’d remembered.

You spoke with him over the phone just yesterday to confirm that tonight was still happening, so why was his voice giving you chills now? It’s deep and smooth and, without the static from the phone audio, it’s actually kind of sexy.

Okay, you’ve got to calm down.

“Hi,” you reply sweetly, tilting your head.

Should you hug him? Just keep standing there? Hopefully, he’s better at filling awkward silence than you are. You’re not bad at handling social situations, but it seems safer to wait for his cues.

Atsumu keeps his hands in his pockets, “Long time, no see.”

It’s phrased as if you were both old friends reuniting after years of distance. It kind of feels that way too.

“I don’t actually think it’s been that long.” You raise an eyebrow, keeping a straight face.

“It’sa turn of phrase, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.

That word sounds so easy on his tongue, damn it.

A few beats pass… and both of you break into grins once again.

But before you can respond, and much to your confusion, Atsumu spins on his feels to face the pathway. The pebbles under his feet shift as he takes a few steps forward.

He turns his head to catch your eye, “Well? C’mon then, let’s walk and talk,” and juts an arm out.

You stare at him for a moment, confused.

“Are ya gonna leave me hangin’? Atsumu tilts his head back, a coy smile on his lips as though whatever he’s trying to do is ridiculously obvious.

After a few moments of deep contemplation, realization dawns over your features. He’s extending his elbow out… for you? To hold onto?

Oh.

With a slight flush, you step forth and link arms with him. He grins down at you, perfectly resembling a fox you saw in a National Geographic magazine last week. This is a lot closer than you’d anticipated on getting with him; not that you’re complaining.

Although, for someone you’ve only met twice, you feel like you’ve known him for years.

The few phone calls and those text conversations have given you some insight into his life, but they don’t explain why you two click so well in person. He’s illogically familiar.

You decide not to question the closeness and instead choose to spark a conversation.

That should be easy enough; after all, he’d promised you dinner, and you were given directions to a park - you’re anything but questionless.

You lean into his side slightly and break the silence, “You smell good.”

Considering he’s crossed that line with you already, you aren’t too worried about saying it back to him.

“Thanks, I showered.” He smiles and shrugs as if to brush off your compliment, but you swear you see a fleeting blush on his cheeks.

“Thank God.” You sigh in mock relief, relaxing your shoulders.

He squints, clicking his tongue, “Okay, no need to tease. At least get to know a guy first,” but his voice is void of offense.

“So if I tease you, you won’t take me to dinner?” A curious tone rings in your voice.

“Oh, I will even if ya do. Where do ya think we’re walkin’ to?”

You snort, “Hopefully a restaurant?”

“Bull’s eye.” He winks.

Atsumu looks down at you and you can’t help but smile up at him. Your nerves had melted away like a popsicle under a blazing summer sun; all that’s left is a sweet, melty feeling that has you feeling a little too comfortable.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so trusting. Protecting yourself has been your number one goal since Kenji let you down…

But that doesn’t mean you can’t laugh or get to know Atsumu.

It just means you need to keep your expectations in check. This may seem like a date, but until he says something, you won’t jump to conclusions. In the meantime, you just need to keep talking. Enjoy it while it lasts and laugh a little.

You nudge his side, “By the way…”

“Hm?”

“What’s with bringing me to a park?”

You’ve been dying to hear this explanation since you arrived. Sure, the atmosphere is perfect; fall weather is notorious for pleasant walks and colorful leaves. However, you’d like to hear his reasoning.

“I thought we could get to know each other better before stuffin’ our faces.”

You make a face, “Well, doesn’t that sound lovely. You sure have a way with words.”

Atsumu is nothing if not blunt.

He pouts, eyes narrowing, “You gonna make fun of the way I talk now? I’ll have you know, I’ve been mocked enough to last me a life time. I ain’t all that sensitive anymore.”

You laugh and subconsciously tighten your hold on his arm.

“Alright Mr. Not Sensitive, I won’t make fun of you anymore.”

If you were paying attention to his face, you might’ve seen another flush of pink… but your eyes are squinting from the sun and Atsumu is sure to pull himself together before you can notice it.

“But I do have some important questions for you,” You begin.

Those words are sure to spark fear into anybody. This is confirmed when his arm stiffens ever so slightly and your eyes crinkle in mischief.

He swallows, “Yeah, go for it.”

“Favorite color?”

Atsumu’s eyes flick down to yours, squinting. They seem to say, “important, my ass.”

He instantly loosens, “Easy. Red.” Confidence is clear in his tone.

You nod. You don’t have to know him well to know that the answer suits him. Atsumu is fiery and he’s burned bright in your mind since you met him. If anyone should be allowed to like red, it’s him.

“Favorite food?”

“Mmm…” He furrows his brows in deliberation, “ I gotta say fatty tuna. But my brother makes some killer onigiri, though. I think that’s a close second.”

Your brows shoot up, eyes widening. He’d never mentioned anything about his family before this.

“You have a brother?” You press, leaning in to study his face while trying not to trip over your own two feet.

“Technically, a twin. But I’m the older one...” He huffs, “...and the better lookin’ one.”

Your jaw drops. “I can’t believe you hadn’t mentioned him before this!”

As an only child, you can only imagine what it’d be like to have a sibling, much less a twin.

“Well,” Atsumu rolls his eyes at you, “He’s alright…”

It looks like he’s about to change the subject, but one glance at your face is all it takes for him to realize that you want to hear more. Your eyes are sparkling. Full of vibrant curiosity… how could he stop now?

You’re actually interested in him.

“We’re really close actually,” Atsumu clears his throat, straightening up a little. “I mean, he isn’t like me at all. He’s real’ calm in comparison. A great cook. Some people say he’s handsome - but he got the looks from me, y’know?”

You roll your eyes, keeping in stride with him. “Yeah, yeah, keep going.”

“He’s good with the ladies, smart, athletic...” He rambles on. “If he’d just slow down a little, he would probably be married by now...”

You just listen, fully invested in his words.

It’s nice to hear about family - you haven’t seen your’s in a long time.

The fondness in Atsumu’s expression seeps through his abbreviated words.

He looks almost pained as he compliments his twin and amusement flickers in your eyes as you watch it all unfold. You hadn’t asked for a dating profile description of his brother, but you’re not about to shut him up.

“I bet you’d like him. Not as much as you’d like me, of course,” he smirks and your chest tightens.

The butterflies you’d thought you’d left back in highschool seem to have dusted themselves off and started fluttering again.

“But, yeah. He’s a good guy.”

Atsumu’s free hand then runs through his hair, pushing the waves back. You can see a sudden onset of nerves on his face. He’s quick to hide it though.

“And, uh, just so you know… he may or may not own the restaurant I’m taking you to tonight.”

That’s enough for you plant your feet in place. Atsumu stops as well.

He’s… taking you to his brother’s restaurant.

You gaze up at him, at a loss for words.

Is his brother going to be there? I mean, it is his place. But meeting his family? Out of the blue, like this? It’s all out of order.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s ever going to give your racing heart a chance to settle.

“Is that too much?” Atsumu is quick to cut in. His voice isn’t gentle… but even with it’s roughness, you can hear something that resembles concern.

“A- ah, no! It’s fine!” You reassure him, “I… I’m happy to go.”

His shoulders drop down again and so do yours.

There’s no point in getting worked up about it. But it’s becoming clear that Atsumu isn’t a very conventional person. Nor is he daunted by sporadic plans. Next time, you’ll ask for a point-by-point itinerary, just to be safe.

Atsumu reveals the name of the restaurant, “Onigiri Miya,” and you find yourself asking more family-related questions as you two dawdle down the pathway…

Which naturally leads to conversations about high-school.

It turns out that he and his twin were on a volleyball team together. Which makes sense. He definitely has the muscle, the height, and the spunk to be an athlete.

You know shit about the sport, but that doesn’t mean you don’t see the gleam in his eyes when he rattles off a story about one of his old games. It’s been a long time since you last listened to someone speak about something so passionately.

But there’s even more.

You hear mentions of many boys’ names.

There’s his brother, Osamu; he mentions their little spats and occasional fist fights. Although he makes sure to clarify that they’re both a lot more level headed nowadays. Next is Atsumu’s upperclassman, Kita; he’s someone Atsumu respects and fears with every inch of his being. Then there’s Suna, Omimi, Aran, and… too many others to count.

Games and nationals and several terms you can’t quite grasp swim through your head as you re-live some of Atsumu’s own memories with him.

His high-school years sound exciting, bright, and funny. Of course, those experiences would create the charming mess that is Atsumu Miya.

After padding under draping treetops, you both finally make it out of the park and onto the sidewalks.

Restaurants and small shops line the streets and pedestrians cross in groups across the narrow roads. At this point, the sun is loosing its shine, sinking beneath the trees’ branches and ever-darkening buildings. But you, with your phone in your pocket and your arm in his, feel safe.

Atsumu’s effortlessness and his blunt way of speaking really made for easy conversation.

But before you can ask him if he still plays volleyball, you find yourself standing in front of a small, bright storefront: “Onigiri Miya.” The words are plastered on a wooden board in white, chalk paint. It’s sleek and cute - if you’d stumbled upon the shop before this, you’d have walked in of your volition.

“I’m thinkin’ I just talked your ear off the whole way here.” Atsumu sighs apologetically.

You shrug, “I guess that just means I’m a good listener.”

In all honestly, you’re glad he rambled. It got rid of your restlessness and calmed your racing thoughts.

He unlinks your arm from his and your side is now exposed to the cold air. It only just hits you how physical that walk had been. Even without a coat, having him at your side had kept you warm and cozy.

How long has it been since you were comfortably side-by-side with someone? It’s been months since you’d been around Kenji… years since you last slept with someone you actually liked… but when was the last time you held a hand or wrapped your arm around someone else’s?

Atsumu’s words cut into your thoughts, “You’re easy to talk to, but I wanna hear more about you when we get inside.”

And he’s holding the door open for you, one hand clasped around the handle and the other tucked casually into his pocket. You thank him… he didn’t give you the impression of being “gentlemanly” or whatever that word meant, but you find the gesture to be sweet.

As you step inside the small restaurant, your senses are overtaken by the smell of freshly cooked rice and an explosion of delicious seasonings. There are bar stools open at the front counter and metal chairs surrounding worn-down wooden tables. The atmosphere is homely and diner-like; as though, no matter how often you actually visited, you would be treated as a regular.

Someone calls out from the back, “C’mon in, I cleared the place out for y’all.”

The voice resembles Atsumu’s style of speech; gruff and straight to the point… but a little smoother. Then you realize what that voice had actually said. There’s nobody else here.

“Alright, we’ll make ourselves at home then. I can take your-”

He scans you for a jacket… that doesn’t exist.

“You didn’t bring a coat.” He says flatly.

You glance down at your outfit, grasping the edge of your sweater and feathering a thumb over its seam.

“I forgot one.” You admit, looking back up to him, “Why? Is that a problem?”

“Nah, I was just gonna offer to take it.”

You hadn’t noticed what he’d been wearing before this, but now that you’re under the soft lighting of the restaurant, you realize he’s dressed up a little.

Atsumu removes a short, tan coat and places it onto the back of a chair. A black turtleneck sweater is revealed underneath. The fabric outlines his chest and arms in the most unfair way while the dark color pleasantly contrasts his lighter skin tone.

How hadn’t you noticed how gut-wrenchingly attractive he was before this?

With how fast things were moving and how comfortable you felt talking to him, you must’ve conveniently glossed over this fact. It’s not like you’d planned on getting to know him.

But now that you do? Well, it doesn’t hurt that he basically has the body of Chris Hemsworth. Atsumu’s definitely not some Walmart version of him though - this boy deserves his own brand of attractiveness.

You swallow hard as your eyes trail his body.

“Like whatcha see?”

You startle, shuffling backward. If you weren’t already out of your element, you sure are now. Caught red-handed (red-eyed?) staring at your not-date.

“Awh, c’mon I’m joking - take a seat,” Atsumu pulls a chair out for you, cringing when it lets out a shrill squeak on the floor. The sound rings through the air and you find yourself laughing.

In a swift motion, you jump up and onto the chair.

He slides the chair back toward the bar counter, except this time you both expect the screeching of the chair’s legs. It’s worse than nails on a chalkboard, but it’s perfect for loosening up any tightness in the airspace. This time, it’s his turn to chuckle.

He mutters out a quick, “Sorry,” but you just shake your head, amused.

Snagging his own chair, and this time lifting it off of the ground to avoid bursting another eardrum, Atsumu slides up next to you.

You lean on the counter, a hand propping up your cheek. “That was very smooth, Atsumu.”

“Thanks,” he rolls his eyes, “I try.”

“‘Tsumu? Smooth? Yeah, right,” that same voice travels from the kitchen to the front of the store.

Footsteps are soon to follow it and you’re greeted by Chris Hemsworth 2.0. Maybe you should refer to him as Liam Hemsworth? Nope, Osamu, you quickly decide, is also his own genre of attractive.

Although Osamu is dressed in a simple, black “Onigiri Miya” t-shirt and cap, he could probably be a Calvin Klein model. For someone who owns a restaurant, his muscle tone is absolute perfection - these brothers are really something.

And their resemblance of each other, though twins, is almost uncanny. You thank some unknown force that hair-dye exists, because if you saw them from a distance, you may not be able to tell them apart.

“Ah, shaddup. You’re just sayin’ that cuz you’re jealous,” the blonde snorts.

“Jealous of what? Your shit attempts at flirtin’?”

“That’s below the belt, ‘Samu. Don’t be such an ass.”

‘Tsumu? ‘Samu? That’s cute, you chuckle to yourself. Of course, these guys would have nicknames for each other. It was common sense.

You sit back as they bicker, wondering who must’ve raised these 6-foot chaotic giants. You’d love to meet them just to give them a medal and a bouquet of flowers for putting up with them. They must’ve dealt with so much bullshit.

“I could say the same to you. Ya haven’t properly introduced me yet.” He nods his head toward you, cool-grey eyes warming up when they meet yours.

Your lips quirk into a smile and before you know it, you’ve introduced yourself.

He copies your smile, though it’s much softer than your own, and begins his own little introduction; although you’re sure that, with all the information Atsumu has already listed off to you, you don’t really need one.

“I’m Miya Osamu, but that’s probably obvious by now,” he adjusts his cap, “Callin’ me Miya would be confusin’ for all of us, so just Osamu’s fine.”

He’s polite and carries himself confidently, but his voice is a little softer than Atsumu’s. Or, it is when he’s speaking to you. There’s a brotherly gentleness to his tone and it relaxes you instantly.

“Please keep in mind that I’m the better twin,” Atsumu adds, shooting daggers at his brother.

Osamu shoots them right back, but you don’t fail to notice the playful fondness behind their eyes. You can almost picture them as kids, with band-aids on their knees and mud on their clothes. They make it seem like being twins meant having a built-in best friend.

Their closeness is overwhelming.

There’s a warmth in the atmosphere, and you’re positive that it’s not just because something’s cooking in the kitchen. It feels special, just being allowed to sit and watch them banter.

And the fact that Atsumu is sharing this with you?

Well, you’re counting yourself very lucky to be here right now.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya #atsumu #osamu miya #osamu #miya twins #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #untouchable series #it's been awhile since i've updated #but i hope u can enjoy it!!!

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