my-written-world

[my-written-world]

I’d really love to write something but I need a kick start I think?

Would love to do some fluff.

Bucky Barnes/Sebastian, Taron/Characters, Harry Styles? I could be open to more.

[my-written-world]

Butterflies

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X OFC!Maeve

Word count: 1010

Summary: Maeve loves her butterflies. She and Bucky know each other from a young age, remaining friends until one days something changes and Bucky shows her another kind of butterfly.

A/N: This is not beta read. Just a little something I had floating in my head and had to get out. If you like Maeve and Bucky feel free to request more with them. I think she is going to be one of my favorites to write.

Maeve was no stranger to butterflies. From an early age you could find her prancing around the local park, skirt swishing and a net in hand, as she chased butterflies from one plant to another. Across the way you’d see Steve and Bucky playing their own game, that is until Bucky would get distracted by the red curls bouncing across the way. She’d swing at the butterfly but just barely miss it as it flew off the flower it was collecting pollen from. After watching her struggle for weeks to catch a butterfly he eventually walked over to her and offered to help.

That was how they’d met. How Steve, Bucky, and Maeve became their own version of the three musketeers. As they grew up the butterfly chasing took a back burner. Soda fountains took their place along with the occasional movie or trip to Coney Island when the three of them could scrounge together enough change for it.

Bucky helped her to discover another type of butterfly though— the ones that lived inside of her. Eventually, around the age of 15, the two of them started to hang out without Steve from time to time. She wasn't sure they were dates until the time Bucky asked to kiss her.

—

Bucky picked her up from home, his bike carrying a basket. Inside he had collected a few pieces of food, drinks, and a blanket. The two of them rode their bikes through the city— passing through familiar places, quickly greeting the shopkeepers who have known them most of their life— and on down to the pier chatting the entire way. Once they’d made it to the wood deck the two of them hopped off and set their bikes against the post they always did before walking all the way to the end of the pier where they found a spot with a boat missing. They sat on the empty dock and enjoyed the afternoon, forgetting the world and listening to the water lap against the boats tied up near them. It only felt like minutes had passed but in fact those minutes were hours. Hours filled with Bucky making her laugh with his dry humor and impressions of Steve.

Now Bucky and Maeve sat with their feet dangling over the edge, the bottoms of her feet skimmed the water below as they talked and laughed.

A comfortable silence fell over the day as the sun started to fall in the sky. Maeve watched as it fell, stealing glances at Bucky when he wasn’t looking. That was until he caught her and their eyes locked for a beat. Two. Quickly looking away Maeve felt Bucky’s gentle hand guiding her chin so she was looking at him again. He wore that soft smile that set her stomach a flutter, today especially so.

“Maeve?” He asked softly.

“Buck.” She echoed.

“I really…” his eyes fell to her lips and he shifted in his seat nervously. This wasn’t the Bucky Maeve knew. He was always confident. She worried her lip and waited for him to continue. “I want to kiss you. If that’s okay with you?” He added the last part quickly as Maeve's face froze, her lips parted slightly.

She could feel the butterfly in her, threatening to escape. “I-uh.” She swallowed it down. “Yes. I want—“ before she could finish her sentence, telling him she wanted that too, Bucky closed the gap between the two friends. A peck. Two. Bucky was pulling away to check in with her – to make sure she still wanted the kiss– when Maeve's hands reached up to pull him close again, deepening the kiss. She’d wanted this more than she knew and her body reacted on its own. Most people would have said fireworks flew for them but not Maeve. No. There was a kaleidoscope of butterflies rising up in her, making her feel like she was floating above the water. A flutter here and there as his hands cradled her face, her hips.

—

When they finally pull apart a butterfly flies between them. It’s blue-green wings match the rhythm of Maeve's heart beating. Bucky holds his hand out as it circles them again, the two of them laughing in disbelief watching it. Surprisingly it lands and allows her to inspect it as it sits in his index finger. She grabs his hand with a light touch, as to not startle it, to move it up and down. While slightly out of place, she immediately recognizes it as a red-spotted purple butterfly. A beautiful creature disguised as something bad to protect itself from prey.

“Did you know blue butterflies are a sign of new beginnings, life.” She asked him, voice calm for what was still happening inside her.

“Is that so?” The corner of Bucky’s mouth ticked upwards, looking at her from the butterfly. “I like that.”

“Me too.” With that the butterfly walked across to her, it’s little feet tickling her soft skin, wings opening and closing slowly as if to say hi and thank you before taking flight again. “Bye little buddy. Thanks for the visit!” She yelled as the creature flit away, when it was just a speck in the blue sky above she could feel Bucky’s eyes on her. “What?”

“I just. I love how much you love the little bugs.” His hand reached for hers.

“They aren’t bugs, Buck.” She went into her informative voice “they’re insects. Beautiful, gentle creatures without whom you wouldn’t have been able to,” he had heard this lecture a million times but watching her get fired up was worth calling them bugs he finished her sentence with her “have flowers or fruits.”

Her cheeks warmed and her head fell so she could stare at the water, embarrassed slightly that he finished her lecture. Feeling a tug on her hand and a kiss on her cheek didn’t help.

“I will never tire of your knowledge. Tell me more. Something I don’t know.” And she did. They spent the rest of the day talking, learning, kissing.

[my-written-world]

Steamy

Pairing: Taron Egerton x Reader

Prompt: Taron does everything he can to make sure the reader is comfortable while sick.

Word count: 950

A/N: This is 100% self indulgent after the week I’ve had. I don’t need a man, but I wanted one to come comfort me and cuddle me. Not beta read. All mistakes are my own. Enjoy some soft, caring, wonderful Taron.

As he opened the door to your shared flat he heard the shower running, letting him know exactly where you were. His suitcases made a thud as he dropped them in the entry, rubbing his hands together he headed your way, ready to see you, hug you, hold you. After months away filming he couldn't wait to show you how much he missed you, needed you, while he was away.

When he creaked the bathroom door open slowly steam billowed out– a warm welcome indeed– but his smile faded when he didn’t see your form standing in the shower singing whatever song was stuck in your head at the moment. A loud, barking, cough breaks him out of his head. One. Two. Three times. Gasping for air. His eyes fall to you through the blurry glass, with your still body, head pointed up to the ceiling, eyes closed, sitting cross legged on the floor of the shower letting the steam permeate your lungs completely unaware that Taron was even there.

The slide of the shower door causes you to pathetically jump and gasp –as if you would be able to take on whoever was trying to rob or kidnap you had it not been Taron. The gasp causes you to fall into another one of many coughing fits. His head pokes in with a soft call of your name, the guilt for having failed at not startling you is all over his face. “Love.” his voice still soft, full of  concern “Are you okay?”

He squats to your level not caring his shirt is getting wet from the stream of water when he tries to reach for you but you brush him off hanging your head again.

“Taron you’re not supposed to see me like this.” You whine pathetically, head lolling to the side opposite him with a muffled cough to eye him. Concern covers his face. This isn’t you, he thinks, this isn’t okay. Even when you’re sick you are still feisty with him. He can tell now what your plan was; to try and get better before he got home.

“Love, listen to me.” His voice falters as he hates seeing you like this. To be quite honest you hate him seeing you like this. “I’m going to run to the pharmacy and pick up everything I can. Call the doctor to make a house call…”

“Shhh.” You tell him, holding an index finger up. “I’ve already,” another interruption and Taron waits with bated breath for you to calm back down and continue. “Got medicine. This morning.”

“Okay” he sighs as his mind races on what he can do for you at this point. Just be here now. Hold you close and take care of you. He slides into the shower fully dressed and sits next to you. “Okay then. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

–

He stayed in the shower with you rubbing your back until you had decided you got everything out of your system that the hot steam allowed. Helping you up he wrapped you tightly in a towel and sat you on the edge of the bed to pick out a comfy outfit for you and peel his wet clothes off himself. If you were feeling normal you’d make a joke about how you didn’t think those pants could be tighter than when they were dry as he struggled to peel them off his thighs. Instead you chuckle to yourself which causes another fit. You pout pitifully until he walks out of your shared closet with a Christmas onesie on, yours draped over his shoulder. “Oh. Yes. Give me that warmth.” You reach for it and he obliges, helping you put it on. As he’s zipping up the front you ask in a soft voice “can we spend some time cuddled on the couch?”

“There is nothing he would rather do more but first I am going to make you tea and get some food in you.” You are thankful that he knows you well enough to know you haven’t forced yourself to eat anything of substance today.

As he does you lay across the couch searching out a cheesy movie to watch in the background while Taron fills you in on his past couple of days and gently drills you about your sickness. How long has it been? Why didn’t you say something before? He could have come home earlier don’t you know? Now you do, but it honestly wasn’t that bad until yesterday you assure him as he sets your travel mug of tea on the table in front of you, and a plate of nibbles. “A cup of tea from your T, baby.”

“Thank you.” You giggle at his pun and raise up to let him sit, laying your head in his lap. Grabbing a carrot you take a small bite as he pets your damp hair talking in his soft, soothing accent. You barely register what he’s saying — enjoying the lilt of his voice,  the dark room only bathed in the light of the troubadour sign and the tv, and his thighs putting you at the perfect angle to stop the coughing for now.

Comfort. Peace. Home. Love. Care. All of those things wrap around you like a hug after filling your stomach and soothing your throat.  You soon drift off to sleep, Taron’s thumb stroking circles in your skin softly.

Taron doesn’t dare move aside from kicking his feet up on the table in front of him and leaning his head back against the couch. His body will hate him in the morning but he doesn’t dare disturb you as you finally get some much needed deep sleep.