#'oh this duck that i LOVED last week? i hate it now. i'm going to cry and then throw up if you don't give me something good now.'

[blunderpuff]

gonna open a can of GOTCHA and send my cat AIRMAIL TO THE MOON

[luveline]

Jadeee! I had a thought reading the last zombie au story, with r taking a bath in the cold water and she was super chilly maybe she gets a tad sick (maybe just some sniffles or a stuffy nose) and Robin and Steve kind of go overboard to take care of her? (And cuddles with Robin's new cat!!)

thank you for your request angel, hope this is ok. steve zombie au —steve and robin take look after you when you get sick. fem!reader, 2k

There are better places to feel shitty. You're the kind of sick that could get dangerous —hypothermia, maybe pneumonia, you got too cold after a cold wash in the river outside of camp and didn't warm up the right way— and it would be a thousand times easier in a building with central heating. But at least you're not in a tarp anymore. 

You, Steve and Robin share a real tent. It zippers closed and doesn't have any mesh, so heat brought inside of it doesn't ebb away immediately, like it had in the poorly constructed tarp tent. You pull your second blanket over your body and try to seem casually tired rather than sickbed exhausted as their footsteps return. 

"Hey, killer," Robin says as soon as she sees you, ducking under the tent's opening, a box in her hands. "You're finally awake. Since when do you sleep in?" 

"I'm tired from the girl's trip." 

"That was nearly a week ago," Robin says. 

"And yet you're still reaping the benefits," Steve says to her dryly as he follows her inside of the tent. He gets on his knees and crawls to your side. "Hello," he says, kissing your cheek. "Good morning." 

"Hey." 

He frowns at you. "Why do you sound like that?" 

"What? I just woke up," you say. 

Steve clearly doesn't believe you, and he's right not to. Sick of being a burden on him, you've stopped telling him about your aches and pains, your injuries, your worries. He absolutely hates it but no amount of begging has changed your mind. You're not interested in being his weight to carry. Love, sure, but there's no reason he should be so intrinsically responsible for your wellbeing. Or at least that's how you feel right now.

"Sarah's given Robin a present," he says, his eyes narrowed at you. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine. What did you get, Robs?" 

Robin slides the lid off of the box eagerly to show you the contents. "It's a baby grow, only Sarah's cut off the arms and legs and sewed the hems. I'm going to put it on Stinkyboy." 

"I thought his name was Shark?" you ask. 

"Or something as stupendously stupid," Steve mutters. He smells like woodsmoke. "Are you sure you're okay? You don't look okay." He rubs under your eye with his thumb. "You're all puffy." 

"I don't think you can speak to her like that, Steve," Robin says. 

Her deadpan delivery makes you laugh, and it's a perfect segue to new conversation and away from your unokay-ness. "Are you and Sarah, like… you know?" 

Robin looks at you for a second. "Like what?" 

"Romantic?" you whisper. 

"Oh, no. She's my new Steve, I'm replacing him."

"Can't you replace him with me?" you ask. 

Steve puts his hand on your forehead. "You're warm. You're warm, shithead, are you sick?" 

"No?" You frown as his hand moves to the back of your neck. You're not warm there, you're a furnace. 

"You're actually sick?" he asks, frowning down at you. "What, were you just not gonna say anything?" 

"It's not that bad," you mumble. 

Robin and Steve make simultaneous sounds of disbelief. "You really weren't gonna say anything?" Robin asks. 

They talk so quickly. 

"I don't know for sure if I'm sick, and neither do you guys, don't worry so much." You sit up to get away from Steve's overly cautious hands, black spots behind your eyes and a shooting pain at the back of your head. "Ew," you say, bringing your hand to your eyes, "Maybe I'm sick."

Steve puts his arm behind your shoulders. "Dummy," he says, rubbing your arm. 

"What he said." Robin stands up. "I'm gonna go track down some breakfast for little miss secretive. I'll be back. Don't let her die." 

"I'll try not to," Steve says. 

When Robin's gone, Steve gets nicer. Which isn't to say he's mean when she's around, of course he isn't, but he's polite enough to spare her the full reality of his affection for you, and maybe slightly shy about it. He gathers you into his chest and rubs his cheek against your crown. "You're so warm, honey. I'm not fucking around, you have to tell me when you're not okay." 

"You can't do anything about it, Steve, just a flu." 

"Where would you have caught the flu?" 

"I mean, I must've got it from the cold. It's a cold, that's all it is." 

"You sure?" he asks, his hand snaking under your shirt. He takes an unabashed handful of your stomach. "How do you feel?" 

"I'm fine, Steve." 

It isn't without fondness, but it's said to be simple and straight. Steve tends to catastrophize —why wouldn't he? You can't be cut, you have to be bleeding out. You can't trip, you always fall flat on your face. You have the worst luck in the entire world (or, almost, getting bit would plant you firmly in the worst luck category). And Steve's the one who pays for it, every single time. 

So you assure him as best as you can and describe your symptoms honestly. "My head hurts, and I feel like I'm on fire. My hands and my legs are really hot, but I don't feel sick. It's not food poisoning, and it probably isn't, like, influenza."

"I guessed that much." 

"Oh, did you?" you murmur, turning in his arms to hug him back, and better. Steve gives the best hugs for you, but you know everything that he likes down to the placement of your pinky finger. You do your own skin-searching and slide your hands under his shirt, one palm roving over each bump of his spine to the midway point. His skin is smooth as velvet under your touch here, and noticeably colder. "Stevie," you say, still murmuring as you drag your fingertips down to the base of his back, "I love you. Don't worry, okay? I caught a chill from the river." 

"I do worry," he murmurs back, nuzzling your temple with his scratchy cheek. 

"I know, baby." 

"It's hard to be the one in charge when you speak to me like that," he says. 

"Who says you're in charge?" 

You snuggle like fools until Robin insists you eat your breakfast outside in the cold, which you abhor but your feverish skin appreciates. Steve sits on one side of you and Robin on the other. 

You know Robin likes you, but you think she must really love you, she's so worried. She doesn't say it, but she keeps glancing your way with a pinch between her eyebrows, and she asks you twice if your breakfast, a lukewarm soup she procured from the campfire, is hot enough. You lie each time, 'cos cold soup stopped bothering you a long time ago, and she's a sweetheart for caring. 

Steve suggests a group reading, as in, he grabs a book and usually you'd read, but you're sick, and they both tell you it isn't your turn. Steve reads, practised by now, more confident with each page. He even tries to follow the dialogue tags, whispering and sighing when instructed. 

You start to nod off. There are things you should all be doing, but none of you move. You can't report for washing duty, you can barely stand, and Steve refuses to go without you. Robin's supposed to take baby Ada for two hours. When Robin doesn't show up, one of the other members of the camp appears and makes her take her anyway. 

"You should strike," you say, woozy on Steve's arm. Your fever is getting worse. The cold breeze helps some, but eventually Steve's gonna have to dunk you in the river. 

"I should." She hugs the baby on her chest. "I don't even really like babies. Like, I'd die for her, but kids aren't my thing. At least, they weren't." 

"She's quiet," Steve says. 

"Why don't you hold her, Stevie?" you ask. He loves kids. 

"I'm busy with my own baby." 

You can't decide if it's funny or romantic. You fall asleep against his side and wake a few times throughout the evening, your face in his lap, his hand protective in your hair or against your ear. He wakes you at dusk, kissing a stripe down your cheek. 

"Sorry," he says softly by your ear, "but I can't carry you." 

"You would if you loved me," you tease, your eyes sticky and hard-pressed to open. 

Steve helps you stand and takes more of your weight than necessary as you walk back to your tent. Robin's already inside sans baby Ada, and she has a surprise for you. 

"Tada!" she says. "It's a pillow." 

You rub your eyes with your fist. "Aw," you mumble, disoriented, "yis."

Steve laughs like you're the cutest thing on earth, and he helps you sit down. You're horrified that you actually need him to, almost slipping and smashing your head on the packed dirt ground as your leg buckles under your weight. Now that would've made you sick. 

One fool on your left and another on the right, you rest your aching head on Robin's miraculous pillow and breathe a sigh of relief. 

"Where did you get this?" you ask. 

Robin taps the side of her nose. "Not saying." 

You huff at being out of the know but are ultimately too tired to pioneer for your right to know —you nod off a minute later, and vaguely recollect the sound of the tent zipper. 

Much later, you wake to whispers. 

"He has fleas, Robin," Steve says. 

A weight lands on your legs. "He doesn't anymore! And fleas don't live on people." 

"But they bite. And they have diseases! Stinkyboy can't stay in here." 

"Stinkyboy has just as much right to shelter as you do." 

"No, he doesn't. Not if he's going to give bubonic plague to the love of my life." 

You try to wake up properly. All you manage is a weak sound and a leg twitch. There's a sharp and sudden silence, disrupted only by a thwacking of skin on skin. 

"Did you just hit me?" Robin whispers furiously. 

"No! You tried to hit me, I was defending myself!" 

"You're so done. I'm taking Stinkyboy and Y/N in the divorce." 

"Idiot! Shut up, you'll wake her up. She needs to sleep to get better." 

"You're the idiot, idiot. Isn't that right, Stinky? Isn't Uncle Steve just the worst?" 

After a night of tossing and turning, you finally wake at daybreak. You're confused at first when you can't see Steve, until you realise he's pulled your head into his lap again, stroking the skin before your hairline. It tickles. 

"I still feel awful," you say hoarsely. 

"I don't think you'll recover after just one day," Steve whispers back. Robin sleeps beside you, a blanket wrapped bundle of cat at her feet. 

"You let her let the cat in?" you ask.

"We actually argued about it at length." Steve's fingertips draw a heart over your temple. "She swears that flea ointment stuff worked, but I found a flea on my sock. I'm furious." 

"You sound it." 

"Don't worry. She has to de-flea everything, we made a contract." 

"Well," you say. "It's a big tent." 

It most certainly isn't. If Stinkyboy was as rife with fleas as he was when he first came along Steve would've put his foot down and so would’ve you rather than let him stay, but he only has a few stubborn ones hanging around, and Steve feels really sorry for the poor cat. Imagine how lonely he must have been, he'd said, and then coughed, like sympathy was something to be embarrassed of. 

You feel very sorry for the cat, but you absolutely don't want fleas. You ask Steve to help you go down to the river so you can change your clothes and wash the ones you'd been wearing. You're still too sick to do a good job, but Steve sits half behind you and helps your aching arms scrub the fabric against the makeshift washer (corrugated metal from a shed roof).

Being sick isn't so bad when you have that much love at your back, metaphorically and physically. You lean all of your weight on him and sigh. 

"Love you," you say. 

"Love you," he says back. He holds your wet hands in his. "Now let's go and warm you back up, loser. You're just dying to get hypothermia." 

"It's in season." 

"Funny." 

[luvhughes43]

sabrina carpenter masterlist

luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

notes: jacks never beating the cheating allegations that i made up😭 ALSO! im just posting this for a reference. i might change who the fics are for

vicious | trevor zegras

summary: media girl for the ducks, trev and her start hooking up + secret relationship but he tells people it’s not true & ruins her image in the process

lyrics: "oh, you're so vicious love me then pretend you didn't, crush my heart and wreck my image, why you gotta be so vicious?"

read your mind | luke hughes

summary: Luke hughes keeps toying with u

lyrics: "you say that you need to be alone, but night and day, want me at your beck and call"

"you say you know that you might be crossing a line, wasting all our time"

tornado warning | nico hischier

summary: nico and yn can't help but keep seeing each other, even though she knows it's not the best for her.

lyrics: "don't understand how quickly we get right back in our rhythm without missing a step, and logically the last thing i should have on my mind but i want you there sometimes"

"i guess maybe thats why im lying to my therapist, i keep saying things like "i never saw him and we never kissed"

because i liked a boy | jack hughes

summary: reader gets hate comments from her ex boyfriends fans, saying she's a homewrecker and a slut, despite them already being broken up when everything went down.

lyrics: "now im a home wrecker, i'm a slut, i got death threats filling up semi trucks, tell me who i am, guess i don't have a choice, all because i liked a boy"

already over | jamie drysdale

summary: relationship thats not

lyrics: "yeah, i say, "i'm done", but i'm still confused, how am i supposed to close the door when i still need the closure? and i change my mind, but it's still on you, how am i supposed to leave you now that you're already over?"

nonsense | quinn hughes

summary: youre so in love with quinn your speaking nonsense ! (insta edit)

bad for my business |

summary: you know your relationship is toxic but you're in love with unknown.

lyrics:

decode | quinn hughes

summary: youre done waiting for quinn hughes. his confusion and noncommittal attitudes towards your relationship completely exhausting you.

lyrics: "i let your confusion keep me up at night, i'm so tired, re-read every single undertone and i overanalyzed it"

"where else can we go? theres nothing else left here to decode"

opposite | jack hughes

summary: a few weeks after you're break up with jack hughes, you find out he's dating someone who looks absolutely nothing like you, making you question everything.

lyrics: "she looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy, now i think i get the cause of it, you were holding out to find the opposite"

"oh, i know now even if i tried to change, that you'd end up with her anyway"

feather | trevor zegras

summary: you finally break up and move out from yours and trevors apartment.

lyrics: "i feel so much lighter like a feather with you out of my life"

"i slam the door, i hit ignore, i'm saying, no, no, no, no more, i got you blocked, excited to never talk"

lonesome | jack hughes

summary: after a rough break up because jack of cheating, yn thinks about how crazy the narrative change was when jack realized she wasn't who the public wanted for him.

lyrics: "tell me i was more than just a decent opportunity, or will you tell me anything i wanna hear to control how you're preceived?"

"isn't it kind of strange how it all changed when i wasn't the one they wanted you to love?"

things i wish i said | luke hughes

summary: after your bad break up with luke, youre left wishing things had gone differently.

lyrics:

[ghostssweetgirl]

crazy over you ~ simon ghost riley x reader

slow burn/enemies to lovers

taglist: @melaninsugababy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @copiasratscheese @wintersnnowie

description: y/n gets transferred to task force 141 and quickly becomes friends with soap and gaz, but her and ghost "hate" each other for the first part.

warnings: mentions of violence and death (duh), alcohol intake, smoking (at some point), nsfw (at some point | HERE), subtle flirting with soap. i'm new to writing? so don't expect this to be the greatest. this is not in line with the game campaigns or missions. the only characters i included are y/n, soap, gaz, price, & ghost. i have no knowledge of the military this is just creativity

disclaimer: i do not own modern warfare or any of its characters.

chapters: [worth it] last

You were more than happy to get out of that uniform. Casual clothes were never more comfortable than they were now. You packed up everything and stared at your empty room before exiting and following Ghost, crate in hand, to a car. He put the cat in the backseat and opened the door for you. 

Sitting giddily in the passenger seat, you can't help but smile as you drive off of the base that has been your home for months now. If someone would have told you transferring to the 141 would result in this, you'd have slapped them silly. Punched them in the face for even insinuating that. 

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Just... happy," you sighed. "Happy."

"Good," he nodded. "Me... too."

--

You directed him to your house - well, your small, boring apartment. It was awkward at first. Partly because he made sure to study everything you owned and everything about your place. He studied the two exits and made sure your windows were able to be locked. You assumed it was his way of learning you better, so you let it be. You tried to tour him around your tiny place, but he shook his head, determined to learn it on his own. But you found it funny how he had to duck when walking into the door, into the hallway, the bathroom, etc. The apartment ceilings were low, unfortunately. You never had issues and didn't even think about this until you brought him here. You sure as hell forgot to mention your full-size bed - compared to his California king, it was tiny.

-

The size of your bed didn't matter when you were making love. You were as close to him as you could get, even though you literally wanted to be under his skin - cuddling wasn't enough.

The size of your couch didn't matter when you were splayed across him while he lay on it.

As small as your home was, it was better with him there, but you honestly couldn't wait to go back to his. You preferred it there.

-

Buddy was shy at first, hiding for the first few days. You set up its litter box and food bowl, along with a spare pet bed you happened to have. He soon started getting accustomed and coming out for Simon more. It was cute how he said 'no' to having the cat but they've clung to each other. 

-

Weeks go by fast. Every day was becoming routine, brushing your teeth together, and eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner with each other. Enjoying the same shows, recommending each other books. Showering together, bathing together even though it was quite cramped. Staying up late with each other talking about random things that came to mind, or, rather, you become a philosopher sometimes late in the night.

~

"Simon?" you whispered.

"Yeah, darlin'?"

"You awake?"

"Yeah, luv."

"Okay. Well, I was trying to sleep, but got to thinking."

"Oh my," he went along with your tired nonsense.

At first, it was funny, you tiredly rambling about random facts, world facts, conspiracy theories, the works. He listened to your rambles, your very groggy, quick mumbles about nonsense. But it quickly turned into him helping you fall asleep, your brain was moving faster than your mouth, becoming hyper. 

He climbed over you lazily, grunting as he shuffled his knees behind your thighs. "Y'sound like you need help getting t'sleep, luv."

"Mm, yeah," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

His lips met yours fervently, softly sucking at your bottom lip. He ground into you, earning a small moan. His hand cupped your face, his fingers rubbed your soft skin as you leaned up begging for more. As you gripped at his tight skin, your hands snaked down his back before scratching up, he deeply grunted as his hands started squeezing your breasts to your hips, to your core. You gasped as his hand slid under your panties, his cold fingers meeting your clit. 

He fingered you until he ripped three orgasms out of you, wetness seeping, pooling in a spot on the sheets beneath you. He took his pleasure in pleasing you - thoroughly studying your facial expressions as his fingers tactically explored your walls and sweet spots. He'd learned the spots that made you arch your back, the one that made you gasp - opening your mouth with no sound coming out, the one that made you squirt - gushing all over him. 

Finally tiring you out, he went to the bathroom, washed his hands, and got new bedsheets. He helped you to the bathtub where he lovingly washed your sleepy self. As he dried you off and let you dress, he quickly changed the bedsheets for you before guiding you to bed, letting you nuzzle on his chest as you drifted off to sleep.

~

While eating dinner and watching TV, a camping commercial came up, and you two looked at each other, nodding your heads. It was time to head to his place. A good few-hour drive. You finished up the night, packing belongings, and this time, more clothes, able to dress to your style more now, being off. 

The next morning, you coaxed Buddy out of his hiding spot and gave him a treat. "This time you're going home, Bud. No more moving around. I know, I know..." 

After loading up the car, you take a last walk around your apartment, locking the doors and windows. 

--

You could have predicted how careful he'd be while camping, being protective and watchful, keeping weapons on hand - his pistol holstered at his hip and tactical knife easy to grab. He finally freed himself from his mask once he felt comfortable enough with the surroundings, seeming at ease. 

First, you went fishing with him. It was quite boring at first, patience not being much of one of your personality traits. Until finally, you caught a small one. You were proud of yourself but looked to him for approval, and he was already smiling at you. 

"Good job, babe," he walked over to you, helping you undo the hook and then put the fish back in the water. 

As the first night came to an end, you ended the night with smores and a couple of bottles of beer. You talked with Simon about how you never got to experience stuff like this and thanked him for taking you with him.

You cuddled with him in the tent, snuggled up close as the degrees dropped to cold temperatures. Sounds of crickets, cicadas, coyotes, and wildlife soothed you as you were enjoying this new aspect of your life.

--

Love grew deeper as memorable dates with you two continued. It grew deeper as you both catered to each other's love languages. His vulnerability also grew. Something, a part of him you never thought you'd see. Even in the beginning of this, even a sliver of info about him, his secrets, what makes him - him, was a treat, a rare treat. 

Every day was different in all sorts of ways. Some days you were both lazy, understandably so. Some days you were active. Some days were very laughable, others calm, comfortable... quiet. But not the awkward, or unhappy quiet. Not the embarrassing quiet, or the "don't know what to do" quiet. The peaceful, understanding of each other quiet. The appreciating each other quiet. You made a look at him and he'd know what you want, need, or were trying to say. Vice versa. 

Those quiet days were beautiful. The sounds of you both laughing at a movie, the sounds of you breathing. Buddy's pitter-patters across the hardwood floors. The randomness of conversation starters. Cheeky jokes. It all seemed quite natural, something you could get used to. Forever. 

It hits you at random times, that this, this right here, this type of vulnerability, personal moments with Simon was only for the time off. You can imagine yourself being here with him. Waking up to him every day. Going to bed together every night. You knew he wouldn't do it, but you wouldn't mind quitting the military, getting a regular job, and living your life like this with him.  

--

He woke you up in the middle of the night during the last month. Randomly asking you to join him in going to the snowy mountains in Colorado. A little surprised at the randomness, but also too sleepy to answer with a straight mind. 

You were surprised when you woke up to all bags packed.

"Um, what is this?" you asked, pointing to the suitcases.

"Our bags," he answered, tilting his head at you. "Dress warm, luv."

"Okay..." 

--

Though you've had a wonderful time with him so far, it hit you hard when you realized that it's getting too close to the three-month mark. Previously, you'd be excited to go back to work. You didn't know what it was, probably the fact that you'd fallen head over heels for your Lieutenant, but you wanted to stay like this, already missing him in his loving, domestic state. Him. Who he is. 

Getting this far, and learning this much about each other has taught you exactly how much alike you two are. You've always liked nature, but appreciated it more when you got to enjoy it with him. You like being alone, and you can be alone with him. You both had walls built up, slowly letting each other seep into the crevices as you both fell. 

--

Thinking back on everything, you would do everything over again for him. Neither would you change a thing. The tension, the heartache, the pain, the anger... Everything you've been through with and for this man was worth it. Thinking of other ways this could have gone causes you to wince. Wince and shrivel at the thought of not having him. Not having your Simon like that. The loving man you knew now, and wanted to keep around forever. 

--

Proud to say that you've found your groove with each other, by the time you returned back to work...

He never failed to tell you he loved you before and after missions. He never had to distance himself anymore, since he could confide in you. Quite more protective over you, but still enjoys watching you fight and paint yourself red with the blood of your enemies. And now he didn't care about the other members knowing fully. If it wasn't obvious enough, you got princess treatment from the Lieutenant. Price held his hands up, refusing to get in between as long as it didn't interfere with jobs being done.

-

It wasn't until he stabbed a man charging at you, full speed while you were already busy with one fight, that you realized you were quite crazy over him, too. The force behind the swing of the blade against the throat, the quickness of it. The eye contact with you as the body drops, his eyes relaxing while he looks into yours. 

"Fuck, that was hot, Lieutenant," you whispered as he pinches your chin, towering over you before he leads the way out of the building.

Thank you so much for reading!!!! I am grateful for each and every one of you that has taken the time to read this story, and even more grateful if you enjoyed it! I loved writing this story so much, it was a good one! <3

[somber-sapphic]

Doctor vs. Lawyer

〘Prompt 9- White Coat Syndrome〙

〘Notes- This doesn't exactly fit the prompt, but I think it's close enough. ALSO. I'm going to throw in a TW for anxiety, I projected a bit in this one. Aaannndd I made Reader a lawyer because it was the most stressful job I could think of.〙

〘Summary- Your wife being a doctor doesn't make you fear them any less.〙

〘Word Count- 700〙

〘Pairing- Carina DeLuca x Sick Reader〙

〚Main Masterlist〛⌶〚Sicktember Masterlist〛

You sat on the edge of the cot in the ER, your knee bouncing rhythmically against the cold tile floor. You didn’t want to be here, in fact, the hospital was the last place you wanted to be. You didn’t even enjoy coming here to bring your wife lunch, let alone when you were actually ill.  

It wasn’t that you disliked Carina’s coworkers, in fact, you got along with them all very well. But that was outside of the hospital. Here, you were something to be poked and prodded at and studied. You were helpless, out of your element. You weren’t in control.

A painful cough ripped through your chest, and you ducked your face into your shirt, doing your absolute best to suppress and quiet the fit. That cough was the reason you were here. You’d been talking to Carina on the phone (she hadn’t been home in days), and the young doctor had ordered you to come in.

“Car, I want to go home. I’ll be fine at home, please.” You whispered, turning pleading eyes on the OB/GYN who was staring at the floor.

“No, bambina, you need to be here. I can only do so much at home. I cannot help if you need antibiotics.” She explained firmly, rubbing her knee with a free hand while texting with the other. A quick glance over her shoulder showed you that she was texting Amelia, presumably in relation to your nonexistent treatment.

“I want to go home.” You said again, coughing into your shoulder. The cold you had woken up with a week ago hadn’t gone away, instead it had gotten 10x worse. Carina had been doing her best to monitor your symptoms but, in the end, she couldn’t legally treat you.

“I know. If you had done a better job at taking care of yourself maybe, we wouldn’t be here.” The brunette snapped, glaring at you. She loved you, she did, but she had also been working nonstop for weeks, barely leaving the hospital. She hadn’t been home to sleep or have a proper meal for eight days. The last place either one of you wanted to be was Grey Sloan.

“I-I’m sorry.” You whispered, tears filling your eyes. More than you hated being here, you hated making the woman you loved angry. You knew that you should’ve taken better care of yourself, but you’d gotten distracted. It was hard being a lawyer, you often worked just as many hours as Carina.

The physician sighed and ran her fingers through her silky hair, tossing the long locks over one shoulder. She turned to face you and smiled a little, shaking her head.

“No, I’m sorry. It is not your fault that you got sick, I apologize for biting.” Now it was your turn to smile. Her little slip ups in English were always adorable.

“Snapping babe, not biting.” You corrected, putting your head on her shoulder. The mix of exhaustion from your illness and the nonstop bouncing of your leg was getting to you. Another wet cough tore through your body, followed by a sound you didn’t know that you could make. Now you felt anxious, sick, and pathetic.

“Oh, amore. I know you’re nervous, but I promise it will all be okay. We will make sure it’s someone you feel comfortable with, yeah? No one gets to touch you unless you’re okay with it. And as soon as it’s done, we will get you back home and into a warm bath, then bed.” She said, placing a featherlight kiss to your sweaty hairline.

You couldn’t fathom why on Earth she’d want to be kissing you right now, but there was no way that you’d be complaining. You leaned into her side, resting your head in the crook of her neck.

If your nose hadn’t been so stuffy you probably could’ve smelled her calming vanilla scent, the perfume always a comfort. You sprayed it all over the sweatshirt that was saved specifically for when she was gone.

“There she is, see, just Amelia. We like Amelia, no?” Carina said with a smile, running her thumb across your cheekbone. You nodded, still apprehensive. The neurosurgeon was great, you loved her as a friend, but still. Doctors.

“It will be fast my love. I promise.” Your girlfriend soothed, kissing your earlobe. It was a strange place for a kiss, but you weren’t about to object to a little extra comfort. With a final deep breath -and subsequent coughing fit- you steeled yourself, ready for whatever Amelia would throw at you. As long as Carina was there, you could do anything.

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[alexanderlightweight]

Thank you again for answering my ask last week. I absolutely love that you included Nephilim wings in it. I adore your lore around those and seeing the importance of the gifted feather. The most fragile of poisons is a wonderful 'verse and I'm excited to see more of it, so for Writing Wednesday:

Alec keeping Magnus physically close, tucked up in his wings, so he can better see to his needs/dote on him/protect him and Magnus reveling in being given this place of honor and being close to his boy

yes! i loved filling it! so happy to do more

so here we go and i hope you enjoy it!

lumine

-

Alec shuffles on Magnus’ balcony and dusts the first layers of snow from his wings. He’s making a mess all over Magnus’ home and he scowls, trying to figure out how to clean it up.

“Oh darling, I have magic for that.” Magnus says, something sweet in his voice and before Alec can protest, he snaps his fingers.  He doesn’t waver and for all Alec knows, cleaning magic could be effortless. Still, with how the shadowworld is acting lately and with how many dangers keep popping up, he’d rather Magnus save his magic.

“You don’t need to exert yourself.” Alec reminds him, hand going out to cup Magnus’ own hand with his own. “I don’t mind a little cleaning if it means saving your magic for when you need it.”

Magnus makes a soft noise and then Alec is being backed into the door. It rattles against his spine but any thoughts of structural integrity flee when Magnus bites his bottom lip.

It’s instinctive, to open his mouth and let the whining complain he has slip free. It’s awful, how mean Magnus is being because Alec can feel and hear him chuckling against the corner of his mouth. His lips tender and his teeth sharp as they teased at Alec’s jaw.

“Magnus—” Alec gets out, not sure if he’s trying to remind Magnus that they’re still outside and then, because he doesn’t want Magnus getting cold, he wraps his wings around them both.

Magnus will be warm under Alec’s wings and they can keep kissing, both things that Alec is pleased by.

It also means that once again, Alec can relax knowing that Magnus is safe under his reach.

—

Alexander is like a large cat, if cats had feathers of course, Magnus muses.

Alexander is starved for touch and attention and while he tries not to be obvious, it’s clear that he’s desperate to be able to depend on someone. Magnus intends to be that for him, once he figures out how gentle his boy properly of course. Right now, Alexander is too skittish to fully trust him.

Alexander is still too hesitant, too careful of burdening Magnus just yet, but Magnus will get him there in the end.

Right now, he’s amused by Alexander curiously pacing around Magnus’ primary lair. He’d already made sure it could accommodate the width and height of Alexander’s wings and from the pink of Alexander’s neck, he’s noticed.

Magnus pats the small table on the floor and the cushions around it. Alexander sits and looks at the food, curiously wary as he carefully sniffs the air and then looks at Magnus in exasperation.

“Is there a reason there is every kind of edible fowl on this table, Magnus?”

“Indulge me in a spot of cannibalism?” Magnus asks, unable to help himself when Alexander’s scowl turns into a pout and his boy huffs, rolling his eyes as he blatantly ignores Magnus’ glee. “Alright, I’m sorry darling. This was a bit mean of me,” from the twitching of Alexander’s lips, it’s not truly hated. “I will suggest the duck for you, hmm?”

Alexander nods and reaches out, mouth opening to no doubt ask a question and instead Magnus picks up a spoon and feeds him a bite. Alexander blinks at him in surprise before carefully chewing and then, with a very put out sigh, he opens his mouth again.

Magnus is curious just how much he can milk out of Alexander doting on him so much, because it’s quickly becoming his favorite pastime.

“Can I bring you breakfast?” Magnus asks, because Alexander is going to need to leave him soon and Magnus isn’t happy or ready for that just yet. 

“Should you be coming to the Institute so much?” Alexander asks and his wings hesitantly press up to Magnus. “Is that safe for you?”

“I’m quite sneaky when I want to be.” Magnus assures him, leaning into the feathers that are ruffling against him sweetly. “You let me worry about getting to you and you just keep your hunters in line, hmm pretty boy?”

Alexander scowls, the way he always does when Magnus teases him about how gorgeous he finds him. Then, his boy gives a soft smile and leans forward to kiss Magnus’ cheek.

It’s so damn endearing that Magnus reminds himself not to ruin this for himself when he just wants to grab Alexander and portal them away.

-

Once again, Magnus wears a low, open shirt with Alexander’s feather resting against his skin. It makes several shadowhunter swallow with envy and look away, not daring to glare at him.

They don’t know who Magnus is, they only know he has their leaders favor and they loathe him for it with jealousy, not contempt.

It’s a pleasant change and Magnus smirks as he walks past them and to Alexander’s office, pleased to note that the minute he’s seen someone is opening Alexander’s door.

Rain from Berlin still coats Magnus face and Alexander is hurrying across the room, feathers reaching out to flutter over Magnus’ face.  It’s incredibly intimate and there are at least two other witnesses but his boy doesn’t pull away.

Magnus summons the food directly to the middle table and then he kneels next to it and pats his thighs, smirking at Alexander.

Magnus is given a dry look but Alexander joins him all the same, kneeling and letting his wings spread out rather than pulling them in.  It means that Magnus is resting against powerful, soft feathers while Alexander slowly eats the protein heavy curry that Magnus got him.  He seems ravenous and his wings tremble in little exhausted shakes around him.

Magnus understands better now just why nephilim wings are considered so intimate.  So much of alexander’s body is betraying him with letting Magnus know what it wants and needs.  It’s with careful, firm hands that Magnus starts to shake out the various feathers and when Alexander goes still, cautious over his bowl, Magnus says nothing

Slowly, Alexander offers more and more access to his wings and even lifts them up, baring access to his primary feathers, eating carefully as Magnus twists him this way and that.

[i-can-even-burn-salad]

Till Death

[ID: The title of the story, till death, written in light green, brush-stroke letters over a photo of a blonde woman in black clothing, walking through a dense forest, facing away from the viewer. All other images are divider lines, showing four small brass bells. End ID]

Her garment covered him like a soft green blanket. It didn’t keep him warm, because there was no warmth to keep, but it made him feel a bit safer. One tiny barrier between his broken body and the teeth of the forest, but perhaps it was enough. Perhaps she was going to stay with him until it was over.

📖 Synopsis

Finnian is a wandering healer down on his luck. When one of his patients dies, the village turns against him, beating him half to death and abandoning him for thirst and scavengers to finish what they started.

Eilis lives deep in the forest, hiding from the world. When she finds him, impaled on a tree and barely alive, she can‘t leave him to his fate, even if it means upending the peaceful life she has built for herself.

As Finnian slowly recovers, days filled with quiet companionship make the prospect of him staying less daunting than either of them had expected. But he carries too many scars, and Eilis too many secrets, threatening to destroy their fragile relationship as the shadows of the past draw closer. When everything falls apart, will they save each other, or will the price be too high?

📖 About

Genre: Dark Fantasy Love Story

POV: Third person past tense, dual POV

Wordcount: 110k

Status: final_final_v2_thisone.doc

Content Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, gore and rape, including, graphic eye/hand trauma, attempted hanging, strong deathwish, insects, animal attacks, torture (whipping, strangulation, cutting, flaying, burns, broken bones), forced to watch, self-sacrifice, abusive marriage & childhood trauma

Vibes: left for dead / falling leaves / “please don’t leave me” / crows on the branches / making fire (the novel) / sweet berries / small touches / “i'm sorry” / the chiming of bells / a stubborn goat / unreliable magic / the smell of honey and milk / “don’t hurt her”

Moodboard | Playlist | Lego Finn & Eilis!! :D | Printed Version | "Advertisment" | Locket

AU: Forsaken - Forgiven - Forever

Custom artwork links below, contain spoilers as well as sketchy violence and gore <3

Left for Dead | Despair | Worry | Compliance | Forced to Watch | No other Way | The Wheel | Happy End

📖 Cast

Finnian

As a healer who cannot use his magic to heal, Finnian has spent the last fifteen years barely scraping by. He hates his profession, he hates people, and most of all, he hates himself. Unfortunately for him, someone else hates him just as much.

Eilis

Deep inside the forest, in a little hut with only her ducks and goats for company, Eilis is hiding from her past. She can’t trust, she can’t speak — but she also can’t turn the wounded stranger away, even if it means risking her heart.

📖 Tags

There aren’t many, because I have yet to think of a tag for the two protagonists. The only tag I am currently using is #wip: till death, for tag games and ask answers talking about this wip.

I don’t know what genre to call it — it does not quite fit the common cornerstones of Dark Fantasy, or Dark Romance, but oh boy, it definitely is dark.

It won’t be posted on Tumblr, instead arriving directly as ebook, because I am just done dealing with this site.

As of Aug 20th, the first draft is done at 110k words! Now I'll bother my friends, let it rest for a few weeks, then edit it. Fingers crossed!

It's out! Download the ebook here.

[redrobin-detective]

"come in," she said, "I'll give you shelter from the storm"

Marceline woke to the smell of something amazing cooking.

Her reactions were a little less startled and a little more excited every time she woke up and remembered that Simon was back. She quickly dressed and flew down the stairs and into the kitchen as Simon was finishing whatever it was he was making. His hair was pulled back in one of Marcy's hairbands and was wearing a bright pink sweater gifted from Bonnie over top his usual white collared shirt and black slacks. He looked so different from how she remembered him growing up but he was still her Simon.

"Good morning, or rather good afternoon, sleepyhead," Simon said with a smile as he flipped something in his pan. "Sit down, I'm almost done. I have something I want to talk to you about."

"Is this something the thing you've been talking to my girlfriend in secret about for the past few weeks?" She asked playfully. Simon groaned.

"How could you possibly-"

"I've known Bonnie for hundreds of years, you think I don't know her tells by now," Marcy grinned. "And it barely took me a year to learn all of yours."

"Yes, yes, I shall always be the Watson to your estimable Holmes so here is your reward for another case brilliantly solved," Simon said with a flourish. He placed a completely red grilled cheese sandwich in front of her with a bowl of tomato soup. "Strawberry jam toasted bread with ham, red bell peppers and tomato. The cheese I soaked in the jam too, it's not as red but hopefully it'll taste better than the beet juice cheese I made for you that one time. Bon appétit, mon cher."

"That beet cheese haunts my nightmares," Marcy said, trying to act casual when she wanted to cry with how much love she was feeling. She thought she had lost this forever and having it back, it was a miracle she couldn't put into words. "You don't have to go to this much effort, I can eat anything red. It doesn't even have to be real food."

"I like to cook and I like to cook for you. Sharing a meal together is something you do with your loved ones," he smiled and sat down with his own soup and sandwich. "I have a second chance to enjoy the little things in life and I don’t want to waste it.” He said, biting into his sandwich.

“Yeah,” she smiled back as her fangs sampled the sandwich. Deliciously red and made with love. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh uh,” Simon looked flustered and ducked his head closer to the soup. “I hate having serious discussions over a meal. How was your show last night?”

“Fine,” Marcy said with a suspicious frown. Simon was being cagey but she’d get it out of him eventually. “It was just a small gig at Dirt Beer Guy’s new place. It would have been better with my partner there. You can’t spend all your time inside reading those dusty old books, you know.”

“I’m not your partner, Marcy, I’m your-” Simon paused and turned away with embarrassment scratching at the back of his neck. She found herself wishing he’d just say what they both felt but he trailed off as usual. “Music is just a hobby for me, I’m not nearly the professional you are. Besides I’m not really suited to the kind of music you play, trying to keep up with you would just diminish your natural talent.” 

“Dude, you’re like the best pianist I’ve ever heard and you know all those old world songs,” Marcy argued as she slurped up the remaining red in her soup with annoyance. “And you’re no slouch on the guitar or violin or drums or-”

“I don’t play the drums, Ice King did,” Simon interrupted with a flat frown. 

“Yeah, okay whatever,” Marcy grumbled as she floated up and gathered up the now empty plates to clean. “So come on, stop avoiding the issue, what did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation angry, let’s relax with a little jam session first,” Simon said cheerfully. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on strings, I’ll join you today on guitar. Just like the good old days.” The image of Simon’s large, blue tinged hands on top of hers on the half broken guitar they’d scrounged from the rubble, lightly moving her fingers over the frets. His gentle voice walking her through the notes and the beautiful sounds they’d made to fill the apocalyptic silence. 

Even after a thousand years of insanity, he knew just how to tempt her.

“I’ll grab my guitar while you finish up,” he said before rushing out of the kitchen. She was drying her hands when the sound of a tuning guitar flitted through the house. Marcy had dreamed of a situation like this: her and Simon safe, with no magic or madness or sadness between them, just hanging out. But sometimes a wall could be made of other things too. She grabbed her bass as she floated into the living room where Simon was strumming his acoustic with deep concentration. She sat next to him on the couch and began strumming too, the familiar motions leeching some of her tension. 

They sat in companionable silence for a while, playing their own thing with the separate melodies sometimes coming together and harmonizing. Every now and again she’d recognize something he played, some dim lightbulb of a memory from when she was a child listening to music on the radio. Simon always got a little sad when she reminded him of the world they’d both lost. She’d mourned and moved on but it was harder for him to let go.

"Marcy, I need to move out,” Simon said suddenly, snapping her out of her head. She jerked a discordant chord on her guitar as she dropped it, causing him to wince. “Princess Bubblegum is getting me set up with a little place on the border of the Candy Kingdom," he continued awkwardly.

"Move out?" Marcy yelped, reaching over to grab Simon's hand then quickly releasing when she saw him wince. "Why? You've only been back as yourself for six months! You're- you're not ready yet! You can't live on your own in Ooo, you'll get killed!"

"I got through the apocalypse, remember. I believe you were there," he said with a raised eyebrow.

"Is it the house? Too small? Too dark? We'll move together, somewhere bigger and brighter that has everything you need-"

"The house is fine, Marcy," Simon sighed, "it's not that it's..."

"Is it me?" She asked quietly. Simon set aside his guitar and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in close. Marcy tried to relax into his touch like she used to but instead dug her hands into his sweater and held on tight.

"No, Sweetie, no, of course not. Believe me, this isn't an easy choice for me either but... Marceline, we always knew this was going to be temporary. You're a beautiful, brilliant, vivacious young woman and you don't need an old dinosaur cramping your lifestyle."

"You're not, I promise. I love having you here. I am so happy I get to see you everyday, to wake up to your cooking and making music together," she said, pulling back to look up at him.

"And I treasure those things too but Marcy, you're not going out with your friends, you're canceling shows and I know you don't feel comfortable bringing your girlfriend around when I'm here. I don't, I guess I'm worried about trapping you."

"You're not, I want you here, I promise. There's always other parties, other gigs and Bonnie, well she's old too, she knows that the most precious things are the ones that-that won't be around forever."

Simon was human again and that meant he was no longer deathless. He'd been in his mid 30s when he first wore the crown, hardly a spring chicken but not old either. That left Marcy about 50 years or so before he was gone and there was no magic on Earth or beyond that could bring him back while she went on and on and on and on and-. She loosened her grip on him before her claws put holes in his sweater, or him.

"Sweet Girl, I know what it's like to cling to something because it’s safe and familiar but we can’t live in the past. I, well, I need to find my own way. You know, learn and adapt like you have and I can't do that living in the backroom in the house of my uh... friend. We’ve had time to reconnect and recover but now it's time for this old bird to fly from the nest."

“You could stay if you wanted,” she said softly, weakly, feeling like the abandoned child she never really stopped being. “You could live here with me the rest of your life and I would love you every minute of every day. If you really want to move out, find your own space, I’ll gladly help. But I want you to know you are always welcome here, in my home and in my life because- because you’re like my dad and nothing will ever change that or how I feel about you.”

They never really spoke the words: dad, daughter, family, even if that's what they were to each other. There was always the risk Hunson would overhear and take it out on Simon. But also 'dad' had come to represent disappointment and anger and fear while 'Simon' fit the meaning much better. Who needed a dad when she had a Simon?

“Oh Marceline,” Simon said softly, resting his cheek against her hair. “I don’t deserve your love after what I put you through.” 

“Like you said, we can’t live in the past,” she mumbled, squeezing him as tight as she dared. Time moved so quickly for her, how many more times would she get to hug him before he was gone? They stayed like for a while before he pulled back and wiped his misty eyes underneath his glasses.

"Princess Bubblegum said the place should be finished soon. It's not very far and, you, likewise, are welcome to visit anytime. I've even asked the Princess to set aside an extra bedroom for you and Finn if ever you need somewhere to stay." Simon said, breaking eye contact to grab his guitar and lightly finger the strings. 

"Do Finn and Jake know about this?" Marcy teased. It's been an endless source of amusement watching Simon latch onto Finn like a mother hen and for it all to fly over the boy's head. Simon cooks for them, teaches Finn when he can pin the boy down between adventures and positively dotes on him and her unofficial little brother still didn't get it.

"Jake thinks it's a great idea," Simon sniffed. "Finn is almost 18 and full of reckless, teenage energy, not to mention a whole load of unaddressed trauma. Jake's getting older, he can use all the help he can get managing Finn."

"Word to that," She laughed. The heavy emotional pall lifting, she picked up her bass again and played the same simple melody as Simon. "Was that all you wanted to talk about? The house?"

"No," Simon looked uncomfortable. "I've put it off too long really but with the house set to be up soon, I do need to collect the rest of my belongings from the uh..."

"Oh yeah, you had that whole secret room in the Ice Kingdom, all those books and artifacts and stuff," Marcy noted.

"The last remnants I have of Betty are there too," Simon said dully. They don't talk about her much, mostly because the grief and guilt reminded both of them too much of Ice King. He still had his bad days spent alone doing glob knows what in his room. "I have a lot of things I need to get that I’ve been putting off because well…”

“It’s got to be weird,” Marcy said with an understanding smile. “You were Ice King then Gunter is now Ice Thing. I think everyone needed space after what went down. Me and PB can go get your stuff if you want.”

“No, no, it needs to be me. I can’t run away from the past forever,” Simon sighed. “I could use your help with moving as well as sorting through what’s important and what’s just sentimental junk. I collected as many pre-war artifacts as I could before I was consumed by the crown so I’m not even sure what’s all there.”

“Of course, I’m sure Finn would like to be involved too if it’s about human stuff,” Marcy said

“I’ll message him and I’m pretty sure Gunter gave me his new number too,” Simon muttered absently. “The Ice Kingdom still doesn’t have any citizens so hopefully Gunter will be able to accommodate us.”

“But that will probably take some time to coordinate,” Marcy said in a lilting tone, “and you still owe me a jam session. Show me that one song you used to play on guitar all the time, you know, the one that goes like-” she hastily strummed out a few chords. Simon laughed.

“A thousand years after the end of the world and Bob Dyland still endures,” he said, making some minor adjustments to his tuning keys. “Ok, my memory isn’t what it used to be so don’t complain if I get the lyrics or melody mixed up. So it’s a simple song that has a repeat rhythm of D, G, C, G. Got it? Ok and a one and two and a three-”

The house was soon filled with music and laughter and lots of love.

[sawtastic-sideblog]

@spideybonez how about a part 3 in which we gang up on Hoffman

Adam: William and I are going to McDonald's.

Mark: can you get me a big Mac

Amanda: I want chicken nuggets

Adam: I was bragging not offering.

Mark: dude

Amanda: rude

Adam: I'm a rude dude with a bad 'tude

Lawrence: get me a McFlurry

Adam: yessir

Mark: what?!

Amanda: UNFAIR

Logan: so let me get this straight

Amanda: because I'm not

Adam: me either

Logan: you're ignoring the needs of Mark and Amanda but not Lawrence

Mark: called it on

Mark: on both of you

Adam: okay first of all they're not needs they're wants

Adam: secondly I like Lawrence

Adam: thrice of all shut up Mark

William: thrice of all

Mark: no

Amanda: why do you hate us?

Adam: you're not nice to me. Like ever

Amanda: I gave you the last poptart last week!

Adam: bbg I saw you drop it on the floor. And it was cookies and cream! Who the duck likes those?

Amanda: bbg?

Lawrence: I like them

Adam: Lawrence you're doing great sweetie

Adam: bbg = baby girl

Amanda: EW! NO! NEVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN!

Adam: fine. I'll call our lovey detective Hoffman bbg

Mark: no you will not

Adam: why not?

Mark: because I said

Adam: oh so big and scary with you massive hooters

Mark: my massive what?

Adam: hooters

Adam: galonga hongas

Adam: chest pillows

Adam: voluptuous mammaries

Adam: chesticles

Adam: knockers

Adam: rack

Adam: bosom

Adam: udders

Adam: Milky delights

Lawrence: Adam

Adam: boobsicles

John: Adam

Adam: TITTIES

Adam: okay I'm done

William: "Milky delights"

Mark: don't objectify me

Adam: I do what I want

Amanda: detective Hotman

Mark: I'm coming for you Standheight 🗡

Adam: oh Mark. I'm flattered but I didn't say you could yet

Adam: and besides my heart already belongs to another man

Amanda: Lawrence?

Logan: Jesus H. Christ

Adam: correct! Great job Logan. Your prize is anything on the McDonald's menu

Logan: big Mac and McFlurry please

Adam: will do

William: is this what it's normally like?

Lawrence: unfortunately. It's worse in person.

William: lovely

Mark: I'm gonna kill him

John: you will do no such thing.

Mark: but

John: no buts

Mark: fine

Adam: if ifs and buts were candy and nuts we'd all have a merry Christmas.

Adam: here comes Santa Claus here come Sanya Claus

John: Adam

Adam: sorry dad

Adam: NATURES MILKSHAKES

Adam: okay now I'm done

Mark: SHUT UP

John: Adam

Adam: sorry dad

[noctumbra]

𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 (𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏)

summary ─ “not yet,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you.”

pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, light fluff, angst, kissing, riding, crying, emotinal sex, shall we call it love making???, unprotected sex, nothing extreme in this one folks, this is the real goodbye sex believe

a/n ─ hi. i'm back with yet another fb bucky fic :) i feel like i fucked up a bit towards the end but.... lmao hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

previous part ─ trilogy masterlist

It was the graduation day when he popped out from his hiding place.

It had been weeks since the last time you saw Bucky. You knew he dropped you off to your apartment, your roommate was kind enough to tell you because he had to ring the bell. You saw your call history on your phone and knew you called Bucky. You talked on the phone for almost forty minutes. You didn’t remember what you talked about, though, and that was what you’d like to ask him, but you haven’t seen him ever since that night.

So, when your doorbell rang as you were getting ready for the day, you didn’t expect to find him standing at your doorstep.

“Hi,” he whispered. He had a tired smile on his face; his eyes looked haunted and it seemed like he lost weight. You frowned.

“Hey,” you whispered back. Your eyes were seizing his body up and down, worry etched on your face. “Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He sniffed lightly and nodded. It was a hesitant nod, and you picked up on it immediately. “Bucky…” you said. He waved a dismissive hand on the air.

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Couldn’t sleep lately, that’s it.” You frowned but didn’t say anything. Opening the door a little more, you invited him inside. He smiled as he stepped through the threshold. “I was, um, wondering how you’re doing since, uh, you know, that night.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine.” You slowly moved your head back and forth. Chewing on your lip, you decided to out with it. “I saw that I called you that night from my call history,” you started. “I don’t remember what we talked about, though.” You watched Bucky as his face went from shocked to relieved to sad. It was an interesting transition, you thought. “I was hoping you could tell me, actually.”

He let out a laugh, it sounded forced. “Oh, um, it was nothing important, really,” he said, shrugging. “You talked about how you hated the taste of beer, and said that you can’t understand why people like vodka.” He smiled.

“For forty minutes?” You asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. He nodded. “Damn.” You would talk about those things, and if you did talk about them for forty minutes, then it was too normal for you to now remember anything because you must have been drunk as fuck. You chuckled. “Here I was worrying myself to sickness because I made a dumb out of myself.” Bucky chuckled lightly with you.

“No, you didn’t,” he said. “You were totally right.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sure, Barnes,” you grunted. Bucky chuckled again. A silence fell between you two, but it wasn’t disturbing. Instead, it was peaceful, and you smiled when you realized you somehow missed his presence being next to you.

“You’re gonna look beautiful,” Bucky said after a short while, and you made a questioning hum. He pointed at your dress for the graduation day. “It’s gonna look amazing on you.” You felt your cheeks burn as you smiled and ducked your head.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Bucky’s lips curled up at your reaction, his stomach suddenly flipping over. He silently cleared his throat. “I’ll, um,” you started, biting your lips for a second before you continued. “I’ll see you at the graduation?” You asked. Sniffing a little, Bucky nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna be there. I’m graduating, too, y’know,” he added. You let out a short chuckle, and he rolled his eyes, but both of you were joking. So, it didn’t take you too long to start laughing.

“It’s good to know that you were studying while parading around,” you murmured with a grin on your face. Bucky blushed. He might have been fucking around, yes, but he did study to his exams, thank you very much.

“Well, I gotta pay my loans somehow, right?” He sent you a wink and grinned back at you. You shook your head fondly.

You hated for making you fall in love with him, breaking your heart and using you, but you knew you were going to miss him like crazy after today. You didn’t know his plans after school─ actually, you didn’t know anything about him and his life. You didn’t know about his future plans, about his parents, siblings if he had any, or what he liked to do on his free time. He was a blank page; the only thing you knew, however, was what he liked in bed and how he acted when he was angry, and that was it. You frowned slightly.

“Hey─” You heard him and felt his large, warm hand holding your wrist gently. “Where did you go?” He asked, his voice soft and eyes concerned. It was a new look on him; not unwelcomed but unexpected. You never saw him worrying over you, or showing his emotions so openly to you before.

You chewed on your lip, debating on telling the truth. Looking at his beautiful, blue eyes, seeing the slight vulnerability in them, you said ‘fuck it’ to yourself in your mind. “I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted. “After today, I mean. I’m gonna miss seeing you around.”

His eyes changed. Their color looked brighter, they widened, and you saw some tears gathering in them. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you watched him shedding a tear.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” he whispered. He sounded so broken, so raw, you wanted to hug him and tell him that you weren’t going to leave him. “I’m gonna miss hearing your bitching about random things,” he added. You snorted. You rolled your eyes and snorted again.

“You─” You started but stopped to huff some when you heard him snickering. “You idiot.” Bucky laughed. His whole face lightened up as he threw his head back and laughed. You should have felt insulted because he was laughing at you, but he looked so happy, and you just couldn’t. You huffed a bit more. “I’m not gonna miss your dumb ass, Barnes,” you muttered. He giggled.

“C’mon,” he said. “You love my dumb ass.” He froze, thinking he fucked up, but your soft chuckle relaxed him.

“It is a nice ass,” you murmured. Bucky watched a large grin spread on your face with sparkling eyes. He chuckled, a soft blush sitting high on his cheekbones. You just grinned at him cheekily. You were so beautiful, so gorgeous, Bucky couldn’t believe he got the chance to have you in his life in a fucked up but good way. He wished so badly that he could take all the shitty things he did to you, but he knew it was too late.

He cleared his throat. He should leave, he thought, but before he could reach for the door, he felt your hand closing around the collar of his t-shirt, and he was yanked forward.

Your lips collided; soft and slick ones against the chapped and slightly cold ones. Bucky gasped as he shivered and gave into your kiss. His lips were the cold ones, so he let you warm them. He let you stroke, kiss and lick them, and in return, he swallowed all the whimpers and breathy little moans you released into his mouth.

“Baby,” Bucky panted as he pulled back slightly. One of his hands found its place on your cheek, cradling it gently. His thumb was stroking your cheekbones, touching your eye and caressing your slick lips.

“Please,” you whispered. “I─ Please, James, I-I need you, please.” You looked into his eyes with tears blurring your vision. You heard the small hitch in his breath, watched him grimacing with pain and then, he leaned in for another kiss.

Moaning in unison, you grabbed at him. You felt his arms wrapping around your waist, and he pushed you against the wall, caging you against it with his body. You whimpered. You missed having his body this close you, missed feeling his lips teasing yours and missed letting him kiss you all over.

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed deeply as he nibbled on your neck gently. He was being careful about leaving marks since there was a graduation you had to go through, but you didn’t care. He could give you hickeys, and you’d cover them up with make-up. The only thing you cared, however, was to have him inside of you. You’ve gone without him for too long.

“Bucky…” You whispered. You heard him hum again. Your hand grabbed his hair, pulling a little, you whined lowly. “Bucky…” He hummed louder. You huffed. His teeth were worrying a flesh in his mouth, sucking and licking over it. Every puff of his breath was making the small hairs on your body to rise, making you shudder violently in his arms. “Sir…” You finally whimpered, and Bucky bit you hard.

“Yeah, love?” He asked. “What is it?” He kissed the place he bit. “Tell me.” You wiggled and exposed your throat to him even more. Humming approvingly, he placed kisses all over. “Come on, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”

“Take me to bed, please,” you whispered. “I missed you, missed having you in me, please.” You looked at him through your lashes. His eyes went dark, pupils dilating, Bucky let out a soft growl.

“That so, baby?” He murmured. You nodded. Your eyes still had some tears in them, and you felt one of them running down. Bucky’s face crumpled immediately; expression softening, he leaned in to kiss the tear away. You only held onto him tighter. “A’right,” he whispered. “Hang on tight, lil’ koala.” You smiled at the name but did as he said.

He kept peppering kisses on your face as he walked towards your bedroom and was gentle when he laid you down on your bed. He was standing between your legs, elbows supporting his weight, when he leaned in for another kiss.

This one feels a bit different, you thought. Your eyes were closed and hands were in his hair. He kissed you gently, softly even. The way he cradled your cheek in his palm was loving, and you felt new tears stinging. It was chaste, this kiss. Neither of you included tongue in it; it was only lips, your hands on each other’s faces and the intimacy.

Slowly, both of you got rid of your clothes. First, it was your t-shirt on the ground with your bra and then his t-shirt joined them, and then came out your shorts and his jeans. He let your panties and his boxers on, though. When you made a questioning hum, Bucky just smiled.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “I jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you,” he added. You hummed happily. As much as you wanted him in you, you were definitely okay with more kissing.

─

Bucky probably should have walked away after he saw that you were doing fine. Hell, maybe he shouldn’t have come to check up on you. He was going to see you at the graduation, he could have waited for couple more hours, but he was scared that he might have missed you during the chaos and never saw you again.

He had to say proper goodbye this time.

He didn’t think you’d start things, though. It was always him who started these sort of things; it always him who kissed you first, who begged you to give in and tried to convince you to take you to the bed. Roles were reversed, today. You took the first step.

Bucky should have stopped this after the kiss. He should have pulled back. He should have thanked you, murmured his goodbye and wished you success and love in life. Instead, he kept kissing you.

This would be the last time he’d be taking you, though, he thought. After that, you were off to God knows where. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever see you again. So, he gave in.

Kissing you and feeling you against his body were the best feeling he had ever experienced in this world, he was sure of it. Having your hands pulling on his hair, nails digging into the muscles of his back and being able to swallow your moans and whimpers into his kiss were the things he would always remember. He was going to remember the way you whined his name so prettily, the way you moaned breathily when he made you come… Bucky was going to miss these, was probably going to yearn these, but he knew he had to say goodbye.

He was no good to you. He only hurt you, made you cry. He did not deserve you.

Bucky knew that he was never going to be worthy of your love. He was too much of an asshole for that. He was going to have a very little piece from it while he could, though.

“Bucky…” You breathed. Your eyes were closed, and your face was peaceful. Bucky smiled. Kissing your cheeks, he nipped on your jaw lightly.

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured. He felt you wiggle under him.

“Wanna feel you,” you whispered. “Please? We don’t have much time, I wanna feel you.” Bucky held back a sigh. You were right; you did not have much time, and Bucky suddenly wanted to ditch the graduation and stay here with you in your bed.

“Alright, love,” he whispered back. “Okay, sssh.”

His fingers found the hem of your panties, and Bucky was gentle as he stripped you free of them. He slid off his own boxers, briefly straightening up to chuck them on the ground, he grabbed his wallet to dig out a condom.

You grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“No,” you whispered. “Can we not use it? I wanna feel you.” Bucky swallowed harshly. You wanting to feel him, wanting him to be bare in you… He was going to be pissed if this was one of those dreams.

“We don’t wanna have a baby, right now,” Bucky murmured, trying to joke a little. “We’re barely adults.” You smiled as you patted his cheeks. Bucky realized your smile looked sad. Blinking, he tried to ignore it.

“I started taking the pill again,” you said. “Just wanna feel you, come on.” Bucky nodded. He could feel his body shaking lightly; nervousness and excitement mixing with his lust. He nodded again. Pressing a kiss on your forehead, he dropped the wallet.

You pulled him into a kiss as Bucky grabbed his cock and lined it up. He greedily swallowed all the moans you released while he slid into your wetness smoothly.

“Fuck,” he moaned loudly.

The exquisite feeling of your wet and warm walls around his hard cock felt so fucking good that Bucky felt like he was about to come. It was such an intense feeling, Bucky suddenly hated the existence of the condoms. It served for an understandable reason, but it also deprived him from a sensation like this one.

“Hmm,” you mewled. “Sir, fuck, you feel so good,” you panted, then. Bucky grunted.

You should have done this before, Bucky thought, he should have taken you bare earlier even though he was sort of glad that this happened on your very last time.

“’ma move, love,” he whispered into your ear. “Can’t wait anymore.” You nodded. Your hands were holding onto his sides tightly, thighs wrapped around his waist as Bucky pulled out only to slowly slide back in.

He was going to drag your last time out as long as he could. He wanted this to last. He was not going to fuck you and be done with you, no. He did that enough in the past. He was going to feel you, now.

“Mmm, Bucky!” You whimpered. Your nails were digging in deep, but Bucky didn’t care. He wanted you to leave marks so that he could look at himself in the mirror later and touch them and cry. He let out a harsh breath as he slid in once again. “Yeah!” You cried out softly. “There, please.”

Bucky did as you said and kept hitting that spot of your repeatedly. His pace was still slow and deep, he was still trying to make it last and feel you deep in his presence. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you were quiet as you held onto him tightly. He could only hear your barely-audible whimpers and his name as a whisper when the thrust was particularly deep.

“You feel so good, baby,” Bucky whispered. His ears were howling, his brain was going fuzzy around the edges and he started to hear some sort of a white noise through the howling.

Bucky felt his eyes and nose burn. The feeling of your naked body against his, him being bare inside of your wetness and you holding onto him tightly… Bucky felt raw. He felt vulnerable as hell. Every place of his body where it was touching yours was on fire. It was like your skin was getting etched into his, marking him completely and forever, and Bucky was letting it happen.

“James,” you breathed silently. A soft sob ripped apart from him as he buried his face into your neck. You kissed his temple, petted his hair and stroked his back. You could hear his soft sobs, silent sniff and slight shaking of his shoulders. You kissed his temple again. You pushed him back, but he scrambled to hold you against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “I’m here. Just lay back, alright?” Bucky sniffed silently and did as you said.

He leaned back against the headboard, and you climbed onto his lap. Lowering yourself onto his cock again, you held his head against your chest, allowed him to hide there.

“Sssh,” you murmured softly. His hands were on your back, holding you tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here.” You hugged like that for a short while. His sobs slowly ebbed away, but you continued to stroke his hair.

“’m sorry,” he whispered, voice croaked. You shrugged. You grabbed his face in your palms and lifted his head up. His eyes were glowing even more with some redness in them, his nose was a bit puffy like his eyes, but it was the expression that hit you hard.

It was pain. Raw, unhidden pain. His eyes were earnest as they looked into yours. You felt the oxygen trapped in your throat when you made eye contact. You shivered. It felt like his eyes were looking into the very depth of your soul, seeing and understanding your true feelings towards him. It scared you.

So, you leaned in and kissed him as a distraction. Anything to get his eyes off of you.

Bucky whimpered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you, as he returned your kiss. His soft lips parted lightly and allowed your tongue inside. You licked into his mouth, stole another whimper and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Move,” he whispered. “Take what you want.” He gave you a chaste kiss. You exhaled shakily as you raised yourself on your knees a little only to fall back down. You moaned. Bucky peppered soft kisses on your neck. His hold on your waist was tight still, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to ease off even though it made breathing just a tad harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried his face to your chest. Bucky, understanding what you were implying, took a nipple in his mouth and sucked and bit on it gently. The lazy suction and slow movements of your hips were driving you crazy. Everything felt so sharp, so deep and so scary but also so good, you felt like you were falling apart.

“Come,” Bucky whispered, pulling his mouth off your nipple. “Can feel you, come, baby.” You whined loud and long as you came on his cock. Your orgasm felt like it went for a century. Its hold took over you slowly, spread through your body from your belly like a wrecking ball, but you felt the impact into your bones. You cried out.

Whining, you kissed Bucky’s cheeks, lips and nose. “Come in me,” you panted silently. “Sir, Bucky, please, come in me. I need it─” You cut yourself off with a low moan. Bucky let out a sharp cry as his hips thrusted up into your still convulsing core. He was close. His balls were tight and full with his come. Your walls were trying to milk it away from him, he could fucking feel it.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky breathed and then moaned. You cooed at him.

“’m here. C’mon,” you continued to coo. “Come in me, Sir. Lemme feel you.”

Feeling his whole body going taut, Bucky buried a moan into the crook of your neck as he came inside of you. You sighed as Bucky let out small whimpers. You could feel his come coating your walls, and you hummed.

You stayed in that position for a while, cuddling and breathing each other in. His hands were holding you tight, fingers drawing various shapes on your body while you traced his tattoos and examined his piercings. Both of you came down from your high slowly.

You got up and rolled off of him.

“Yuck,” you whispered as you felt his come leaking out of you. Bucky smiled apologetically. “I wanted it,” you reminded him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You walked towards the bathroom, quickly cleaning yourself. When you returned to your bedroom in a bathrobe, you saw him dressing up. “Leaving already?”

Bucky grimaced. “We only have two hours to get ready,” he murmured. His voice was soft and low. You found it soothing. “I can’t hang around too long, gotta shower and change.” You nodded. This time, it didn’t feel like an excuse to run away. Graduation was onto you both, it was understandable, but Bucky wasn’t running away.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Yeah, make sense.” Bucky nodded, too. He pulled his jeans on, fixed his t-shirt and hair and grabbed his wallet.

“I, uh,” he started, inclining his head towards the door. You let out a ‘yeah’. He smiled. You were at the door when he turned around, suddenly looking very serious.

“This was the last time I was taking you, you know that right?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t taunting, or bragging or anything. His voice was still soft and low, but he sounded like he was far away. “We’re graduating, and God knows what’s expecting us. We’re gonna have different lives and… we’re growing up.” Bucky sent you sad smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that because I wanted to say goodbye properly, but I don’t regret it, so,” he shrugged. “Take care, will you?” With teary eyes, you looked at him. Bucky sighed. In one step, you were in his arms and hugging him tightly.

You understood what he meant. Whatever you had was for during college. The end has come; it was the graduation day, and that meant you had to leave this part of your college life behind. You didn’t want to, especially not when you were in love with him, but he was right. You were going to have different lives. You were adults for a couple years, but graduating meant that you were an official one now.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Bucky whispered and pulled back. “You’re gonna be okay and successful in your job. You’re tough like that.” He smiled, this time it was a genuine one. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Take care, Y/N.”

“Take care, Bucky,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be one hell of a teacher.” That pulled a startled laugh out of Bucky, and you grinned tearfully. “A badass one, too.” You eyed his tattoos. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured. “Gonna be that teacher, but it’s worth it.” Giving you a lopsided smirk, he watched you for a couple seconds. Then, he walked to the door, opening it. He looked at you before he walked out. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the last second he decided against it. You ran to him, kissing his cheek and fixing his hair.

“Be gentle to yourself,” you murmured. Bucky nodded.

“I’ll try,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “Um. Bye, Y/N.” You muttered a soft ‘bye’, and he was off. You closed the door and sank down. You let the tears wash your face and pain away.

─

As soon as Bucky was outside, he let out a sob. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but he didn’t want to give you that hope and then crush it. He knew he would fuck up somehow if you were to try out a relationship. You didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you.

Lifting his head up, looking at the sky, Bucky took a deep breath.

“Here comes the sun,” he whispered and turned on his heels.

His figure got lost in the sea of people as he walked down the street. He felt like he lost a piece of himself in them, too.

[vanderlustwords]

What if Steve leaves and she finds out she’s pregnant? I really love your alternate ending where he leaves for Peggy and wondering if you could write more about it. Doesn’t have to be him leaving a child behind that was just a question that popped into my head

Pairing: (past) Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader

Please do not repost/translate anywhere. Reblogs/Comments are much welcomed ♥

Continuation of: This Dress is Karma || Alternate Ending

Warnings: unbeta'd. Angst ending for Steeb.

Note: I don't know how you roped me into writing a 2.3k continuation but here I am LOL

Count: ~2.3k

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You shut the door with a soft click, waiting until you hear the quiet footsteps fade away. The lump in your throat gets harder to swallow as you turn around, leaning back against the door and let out a shaky sigh.

You can't help but think those were some brave words you said to Steve. You desperately wanted them to be true. You did want to be so happy that it would physically pain Steve if he were to ever witness it.

You wanted it to be true that you were never going to see him again because he had hurt you so much, and he needed to stay away from you.

But when you lift your trembling hand to your stomach, you wonder if everything you said had been nothing more than a brave front.

"You alright?"

You immediately look up and see Bucky stepping out of the guest room, fully dressed with towel-dried hair.

You swallow and force a smile as you drop your hand.

"Yeah, you ready to head out?" You ask him as you stand up straight.

Bucky nods with a grumble before he grabs a strand of his hair. "I need a haircut first, though. Do you think we could find a barber first?"

"Sure," you say, turning around and opening the door with Bucky following you behind.

"You sure everything is okay?" Bucky asks you again.

The way your throat feels raw, the hysterical words that want to escape your mouth make you feel dizzy. You want to put your hand against your stomach again as if to see if you could suddenly feel a bump.

But you refrain because Bucky would get suspicious. Well, he'd probably think you had a stomachache first, but if you didn't stop acting strange, he would pry.

"Everything's fine," you mumble.

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As the weeks pass, more and more things begin to slip from you.

There is a layer of never-ending panic that sits right beneath your skin, crawling and setting your nerves on fire.

When you began to get morning sickness and threw up into the toilet, you began to shake.

The reality of your situation began to hit you.

You were pregnant.

With Steve's child.

Steve, who had abandoned you and was grey and old and probably would pass away soon.

The notion of it all had you throwing up in the toilet again.

You were alone, and you were scared.

What were you going to do? You couldn't rely on Steve anymore.

You looked down at your relatively flat stomach still, placing your hand against it.

There was a life growing inside you. What were you going to do?

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It was harder to hide when Bucky came over almost every other day, even though he didn't live with you. He had stayed for a week after the confrontation with Steve but quickly found his own place.

Initially, that had made you feel more alone, like everyone couldn't wait to escape from you. But it had worked out when you needed alone time.

Bucky was currently in your kitchen, cooking up steaks for lunch for the two of you.

The smell of it made you deathly pale.

"What's going on with you?" Bucky asked with a frown as he set the steaks aside to rest.

You had to swallow hard before you could answer. "Nothing," you said weakly. "I'm—I'm sorry. I know you came all the way here to cook but I'm not really hungry."

"You've been saying that for days now, doll," Bucky pursed his lip. "I feel like I haven't seen you eat a proper meal lately. What's going on? I know things have been...hard. Especially since you last saw Steve, but this isn't okay. I need you to eat something in front of me that isn't pretzels, bananas, or bread."

The idea of sliding a piece of steak basted in butter had your stomach knot itself painfully.

You shook your head, but when Bucky insisted, slicing the steak and you watched the juices run, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You took off to the bathroom in haste.

"Hey—" Bucky called out and took off after you, but you were quick to shut the door before you fell to your knees over the toilet and hurled.

"What's wrong?" Bucky yelled through the door, trying to jiggle it open but found you had locked it. "Open the door, doll. I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I'm fine," you said shakily as you grabbed some toilet paper and wiped your mouth, eyes hot with tears. "I just—I just haven't been feeling well."

The silence on the other side of the door only lingered for a moment before Bucky used his metal arm to turn the doorknob so hard, it broke open.

He found you sitting on the floor, over the toilets, eyes rimmed red and your face pale.

Bucky carefully walks in and kneels slowly before you.

He thinks back the couple of weeks and how you've been going to the bathroom a lot more, and how you don't like going to restaurants to eat. You've been eating at home and the strangest things and wearing more flowy shirts.

He looks at your face, and the way you're trying to hold back your tears makes Bucky feel dread.

"Doll..." he calls you softly. "Are you—Are you pregnant?"

You let out a choked sob in response, face dropping as you close your eyes.

Bucky's quick to hold you in his arms as he strokes your back, his heart dropping.

There was only one person who could've gotten you pregnant.

There had been some dumb shit Steve's done the entire time Bucky's known him. Always getting into scraps he couldn't finish, always prideful when Bucky wanted to help him.

But it had been the first time Bucky's ever been so fucking pissed at Steve. It was the first time Bucky couldn't defend or make an excuse for his friend.

"Bucky, what am I going to do?" You trembled in his arms. "I can't—Steve isn't—I want to keep it but I'm alone."

Bucky swallowed so hard it was painful.

There was no fucking way he was ready to be a dad or step up in any kind of way—that is, if you even let him.

Fuck, you two didn't even have feelings for each other or anything. There was something, maybe, Bucky thought for the future. But now?

"You're not alone," Bucky reassured, keeping his voice still for your sake. "I'm here. I'm here all the way and I'm not gonna leave you, doll. Ever."

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You manage to keep the fact that you're pregnant under the wraps easily. It helps that since saving the world, no one really meets up anymore. A part of you worries because you can't find Wanda anywhere, but you know she can find you if she wanted to.

Sam might be the only other person who knows, and Bucky was begrudging when accepting his help.

Months pass, and you're surprised how dedicated Bucky is. You're pretty sure you're on the verge of a mental breakdown constantly. A part of you worries Steve will show up, but Bucky reassures you that there's nothing Steve could do even if he did show up.

"Fuck..." you swore as Bucky was in the middle of figuring out how to build the crib the two of you got from Ikea. He looks up at you alarmingly. "I think my water just broke."

"Oh, shit, okay, okay!" Bucky jumps up right away and starts running around to grab the prepared bag as he helps you out into the car. "Don't panic!"

"Bucky, I'm literally about to push a baby out of my body. I'm going to fucking panic if I want to," you snap, and Bucky bites his lip to refrain from speaking as he zips through traffic.

"Oh, god," you say under your breath. You were having a baby. You were actually going to have a baby.

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"Bucky, you can't just carry her everywhere," you grumbled as you pushed the stroller through the park. "You're spoiling her."

"Yes, I can. She wants me to carry her and whatever my princess wants, she gets." Bucky declared indignantly at you while sticking his tongue out.

You sighed with a smile.

You couldn't believe a year has passed. Despite the time passing, you never really felt fully prepared as a mother. You were scared you were fucking it up all the time if you're honest.

Bucky holds your hand, and you give him a shy smile. That was new too. Slow and steady, as Bucky has always been, and you think you were falling for him because of that.

When you look up, your heart stops.

"Oh," Steve blinked.

Another year has passed, but you find Steve doesn't look too different. A little more tired perhaps, but still...Steve.

You feel panic creep up in your chest that threatens to become a panic attack before Bucky squeezes your hand.

"Breathe, doll," he whispers encouragingly to you, but it's loud enough for Steve to catch.

You do as he says, taking a few calming breaths. You want to keep walking, but it seems Steve can't stop staring at the child in Bucky's arms.

"Why don't you take Hazel to the pond? She really likes looking at the ducks," you tell Bucky, and he nods, warily looking at you and Steve. He sends Steve a curt nod before he takes the stroller with him and walks off.

Steve's eyes trail after Bucky.

You know then that he knows. It's not hard after all. Hazel looks like a spitting image of Steve, something that had been hard for you to deal with at first. Her blonde hair and blue eyes—the blue eyes were easier since Bucky's eyes were blue too, even if a darker shade.

But Hazel was so lovely; you loved her so easily.

"When did you know?" Steve asked.

You shrugged. "The day before we all saved the world."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Steve's voice was pained and betrayed, and you cocked your brow at him.

"Why? So you would stay?"

"Yes, I would have!" Steve insisted.

The sheer stupidity of the situation had you give a humourless laugh.

"The last thing I want is for you to stay because of a baby, Steve. You wanted to leave, despite everything, you chose to leave. We would only hate each other in the long run."

"That's not true," Steve denied. "When I made that choice, it wasn't because I didn't love you anymore."

"No, you just didn't love me enough."

The words rang clear, almost throwing Steve off-kilter.

The silence fell, and the two of you could hear Hazel laughing with Bucky in the distance as she shrieked.

"Don't you think I deserved to know about her?" Steve asked with his lips pursed.

"No," you answered honestly. "What do you, a 90 something-year-old man, have to offer her? You certainly can't step up and be her father. Your time keeps running out and the last thing I need is for Hazel to have instability. Did you want to be her grandfather? She's already met mine, so do you want to pretend to be Bucky's?"

"So, you're just gonna lie to her and let her think Bucky is her dad?"

Your eyes flash angrily.

"Bucky is her dad. He's the only dad that counts in every way. Do you know how hard it was for me? I was scared shitless, Steve. You can delude yourself into thinking otherwise, but you're unreliable. I couldn't come to you for help," you snap at him. "Do you know who was there every time I was puking my guts out, crying or screaming, or wanted pickles with peanut butter at 2AM? Who do you think was there for every appointment. Who bought fifty parenting and baby books to study religiously? It was Bucky. Even though I knew he was scared too, he was there. So, don't fucking try to make me and Bucky look like the bad guy. You have NOTHING to offer to Hazel."

Steve stood there wide-eyed, guilt crowding over his eyes. Steve doesn't want to say he regrets going back because that would mean a lifetime of regrets he can't get back.

"You're right," Steve said slowly, trying to appease your anger. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. It's not my place to say anything."

Even though Steve says it, he looks over to the little girl squealing in Bucky's arms. He looks at her blonde hair that she clearly got from him and your nose.

He and Peggy had children—children he loved more than anything.

But...the idea of his child with you...that was another reality he missed.

It seems to be that way always for him, Steve thought somberly. He was always missing something. Maybe you had been right about him.

Steve listens as you take a deep breath in and exhale.

"Do you want to meet her?" You offer, and Steve can tell it's difficult for you to say those words.

"If you're okay with it," Steve said slowly.

You nod stiffly. "It's fine as long as you respect my wishes and refrain from telling her you're her bio dad. I want to save that conversation for when she's older and able to understand it more."

You don't say it, but Steve is already thinking how he'll most likely be gone by then.

The two of you begin to walk towards Bucky and Hazel.

"What will you tell her?" Steve asked.

"The truth," you shrug. "That you were the world's greatest hero and you loved her and would've loved to get to know her if you stayed, but you didn't and it wasn't her fault."

"Right, it was mine," Steve felt a sting in the back of his throat.

"I don't think it was anyone's fault," you tell him. "It's just karma, Steve. I wasn't enough for you and now you're not enough for Hazel."

Right, Steve thought somberly as he looked at you in your summer dress. It was different from the sexy red one that used to drive him insane.

It was a calm peace, a show of your motherhood and graceful maturity.

This dress is karma, too.

[seacottons]

—ateez as boyfriends [ domestic au ]

notes: swearing. suggestive dialogue. fluff. i blame a certain someone for this, not gonna say who. @kireiwoo

— hongjoong

very caring and attentive towards you

so much so, that even his friends have complained how it isn't fair he doesn't scold you like the way he does to them

he enjoys many activities with you, such as

helping him dye his hair an ungodly color every other month

he'll insist you try experimenting with your own tresses

but you only have the courage to dye the very ends of your strands

"i don't think i can pull off that color as well as you do," you'd say.

"that's a load of bull. you'll suit every hair color."

you'll just roll your eyes playfully at his biased behavior.

other activities include getting tiny matching tattoos together.

the tiny flower and butterfly on your wrists was most likely your favorite due to its simplicity in design and the meaning behind it as well.

spontaneous dates are his favorite.

behind closed doors, he loves to constantly shower you with pecks and smooches.

often gets teased by his friends from how whipped he is for you.

randomly books vacations for you two to relax and unwind every so often.

although he enjoys it, he is a big, tired baby when it comes to traveling

always wanting to lean his head against your shoulder

or cuddling you close for warmth due to the airport's air conditioners blasting frigid air.

has written many songs about you

and when he's finally ready, he'll not only ask you to listen to them, but to also spend the rest of your life with him and share his last name as well.

— seonghwa

constant pet names

"darling."

"the sun to my stars."

"the moon to my sun."

"love of my life."

you like to call him mars, mostly.

but he revels when you call him 'twinkle eyes' for some reason.

has a habit of pulling you into his lap.

you'll subconsciously play with the strands of his hair as he does so, him being too distracted bickering with his friends to realize sometimes.

will always give you pleading looks whenever wooyoung or san tease him.

sometimes, you walk in to find wooyoung settling onto your boyfriend's back while he greedily devours the bowl of popcorn entirely by himself.

or other times when both wooyoung and san constrict his limbs with their arms whenever you're near.

"y/n can't save you now, so cut the whining."

you'll only sigh and shake your head in amusement.

"what are you guys doing to my poor boyfriend?"

"he changed the movie we were watching without our permission!"

"because i have no damn clue what's going on, and harry potter is too confusing!"

coffee dates.

loves to sleep with you tucked against his chest.

always has an arm draped around your frame.

butterfly kisses on your neck.

soft touches against the small of your back and waist.

his favorite pastime with you would be stargazing.

"baby, look. it's me, mars-io," he'd say whilst pointing up to the large, bright star in the night sky.

when it's too cloudy outside, or when the weather isn't forgiving, he'll turn on the indoor star projector he bought so the two of you can stargaze in the comfort of your own bed.

— yunho

is the epitome of romantic.

is constantly smothering you in love and affection.

always has heart eyes and admiration in his eyes at whatever small task you do or say.

rant about an ancient dynasty?

heart eyes.

bombard him with useless information about a certain abandoned island.

heart eyes.

gush about the new cute bakery that recently opened up?

heart eyes.

if you had a money jar for every time he says 'i love you', you'd have enough money to buy a plane ticket or two.

always willing to drop everything to help you with whatever it is you need.

will wake up in the middle of the night when you text him to ask if he's awake or not.

willingly stays up to keep you company.

but sometimes, when he's too tired, he'll knock out accidentally and profusely apologize to you in the morning.

very supportive of your life choices.

hates seeing you cry because it makes him want to bawl his eyes out as well.

his hugs are bone-crushing.

but he is a gentle giant nonetheless.

likes to attempt to bake pastries with you.

half of the time, the goods either turn out undercooked or burnt.

"they have love in them, that's all that matters."

will always insist that you can rant to him about anything and everything.

you've never felt so valued in your life before meeting him.

is the most understanding human being you've ever gotten the pleasure of knowing.

"i wish we were vampires," he says one day.

you give him an amused look, lips outstretched into a smile, "why, silly?"

"so we can spend an eternity together."

— yeosang

his heart flutters when you notice the smallest things he does.

it makes him feel appreciated and acknowledged.

like when he changes up his hairstyle or earrings.

or when he wears a new sweater.

a big, big softie when it comes to you.

can and will want to spend all day in your arms on his days off.

quick witted and has a knack for noticing the tiniest detail.

very shy and awkward at first.

but when he gets more comfortable as time passes on, you won't be safe from his snarky little comments anymore.

will constantly bring up the thing you said or did months ago to prove a point.

"oh, you like this flavor? three months ago you told me it tasted like vomit."

"remember that time you woke up in a rush to get to work thinking you were late, only for me to drag you back inside because it was three in the fucking morning?"

you stop mid-chew and peer up from your plate of rice.

"your point, yeosang?"

"oh, nothing this time. i just wanted to tease you."

is the type to have a mid-life crisis when you can't decide on a restaurant.

"but i don't want to eat at the chicken place again," you'll whine.

"it's been thirty minutes, and you still haven't decided what you want!"

"you're rushing me!"

"y/n! just pick!"

loves to cuddle with you, especially in the colder months.

wraps a blanket around your frame and tugs you in closer against his chest.

pretends not to understand your jokes just to spite and tease you.

loves when you cling onto him.

his favorite pastime with you would be just walking around together at night and trying out different types of street food.

or even visiting any of the local beaches for a relaxing walk together.

— san

persistently keen about whenever you feel upset or down.

he reads you better than any open book.

sometimes, it scares you, but you appreciate how he's always so eagle-eyed about your behavior.

loves to hug your head.

you allow wooyoung to crash some of your dates with san sometimes.

other times, san will whine and tell him to go find his own date.

"if y/n accepted you as a boyfriend, then you should've disclosed that i'm part of the deal as well. buy one get one free."

"as what exactly?"

"the hot, clingy best friend."

will take numerous duck-faced selfies of himself because you think they're cute.

often times, he'll ask you to mirror his expression, only for him to press his lips against yours a second before his phone snaps the picture.

likes when you kiss his dimple.

"y/n! it looks like a crater from the amount of times you've kissed it."

he likes to tease you.

a lot.

touchy.

very touchy.

always has an arm around you.

rests his chin against your shoulders.

playfully smacks your rear when you're sassy with him.

or leans in to hold your jaw whilst whispering teasing words into your ear that has you becoming docile and bothered in mere seconds.

has you wrapped around his finger as much as you have him wrapped around your own.

likes to have weekly picnics with you at the park and admires all the dogs running about.

"i should bring byeol next week. maybe she'll like to play fetch too."

"i don't think that's a good idea.."

you often find him fast asleep holding onto a plushie for dear life whenever you're away.

you'll pull it away from his arms, causing him to stir awake groggily.

he'll stare in confusion as you throw the plushie aside, before pulling you in tighter as you wriggle into his arms.

"you're softer than shiber," he'll mumble sleepily against the crown of your head.

— mingi

mingi is sometimes self-conscious around the public eye and others, but when it comes to you, those layers of fear and insecurity get stripped away instantly.

doesn't mind being vulnerable with you.

he craves affection, adores it even, but is insecure about not being able to return it well enough for his liking.

likes when you give him attention.

easily gets jealous when someone else grabs your interest.

reassuring him 24/7.

"yes, mingi. you're the love of my life."

kissing his pouting lips for good measure.

the smallest of gestures has him a blushing mess.

even holding hands in public.

when he's not being a sentimental sap, he'll like teasing you lovingly.

"wow, you have this many photos of me in your phone?"

you'll scrutinize him in confusion.

"are you that obsessed with me, y/n?"

"mingi! you told me to take half of those photos of you!"

"oh, right. i forgot."

a silence weighs down onto the two of you.

"but would you have taken them if i never asked you to?"

constantly laughs about the things you say, although you don't think you're that funny.

always seeks your approval subconsciously.

will always shield you from the rain, playfully yelling at the droplets sometimes.

"you can't make y/n wet! only i can!"

"mingi! we are in public!"

wanted to go strawberry picking because he saw a celebrity try it out on instagram live.

accidentally steps on many berries though.

"it's okay, they'll just make another plant. i did them a favor."

brags about you like no tomorrow.

even for the tiniest, minuscule thing.

"oh, i've already tried the brand of ice cream. y/n always buys that for me."

"i don't need to pay all this money for a measly slice of cake. y/n's cakes are much better."

"no, wooyoung. i'm not jealous of your new shoes." he'll lightly pinch the boy's side, "y/n and i have already bought ourselves matching pairs."

"you two are so fucking cheesy, it hurts."

when he's not bragging about you, he's boasting about himself.

but if that's what helps him raise his confidence levels up, you'll gladly sit down hours on end listening to how he has more 'swag' and 'charisma' than all of his older friends combined.

— wooyoung

teases you like his life depends on it.

says you can't get enough of him, when in reality it's the other way around.

but you let him believe whatever he wants.

but deep down he just really gets satisfied with himself if he raises your mood and makes you smile.

especially when you're not having a great day.

uses way too many emojis when texting you.

"wooyoung, why am i saved as as 'clingy bug' on your contacts?"

he'll squawk indignantly and laugh awkwardly for a second.

"who told you this lie!?"

"seonghwa?"

always wants to show off your love in front of his friends.

"no, i don't want my early birthday gift now. wait until the others show up, and do it front of them."

"but why?"

"so everyone can see how much you love me. can you also cry for good measure?"

"absolutely not."

he enjoys the dates you have in his apartment the most.

the ones where he cooks for you and asks for your help, only for him to pester you about over-seasoning or undersalting something.

"okay, fine! we'll just order take out if it tastes that bad," you pout, flinging a small piece of onion on his face.

his head instantly snaps back to eye you judgingly, fist gripping the poor spatula.

"over my dead body."

"so, y/n. how does my plating look?"

"it's beautiful, wooyoung. you've outdone y-"

"what else is beautiful?" he demands, face leaning over the table to give you a knowing grin.

you shove a piece of meat and rice into his mouth, shrugging nonchalantly.

"me."

he deflates at your answer, spluttering pieces of rice onto your face.

"jung wooyoung, you slob!"

— jongho

is the type of boyfriend to stop you in the middle of the road to tie your shoe for you.

very charming and goofy in his own way.

takes pride in himself and his abilities to cater to your every whim and need.

even when you don't ask for his help.

aggressively opens jars for you when you struggle to pry them open.

"no one messes with my y/n."

"you're fussing at a jar of pickled radish, baby."

the type to cling close to you in public in fear of any of the bicyclists or pedestrians bumping into you and harming you in any way.

sometimes acts like you're made of glass.

while it's endearing occasionally, it is a bit suffocating at other times.

doesn't believe you when you say you're tough and don't need protection.

very selfless and willing to help you with anything you need.

never one to shy away from social gatherings with his friends, always pulling you along with him despite you being shy and clingy most of the night.

also a big tease.

when you help him hold down his legs for sit ups, he asks for a smooch.

pulls away from you when you try to kiss him.

and will laugh at your pouting face as he urges you to try once more.

"stop moving, i just want to kiss you!"

after numerous tries, he finally allows you ( you truly think you over-powered him though ) to kiss his cheeks or lips.

he then proceeds to squawk loudly in retaliation and playful disgust.

although he loves teasing you, when the game is flipped the other way, he'll be a shy mess of embarrassment.

"i don't mumble your name in my sleep."

"you always do, silly."

tucked underneath his macho exterior, you know he's prone to criticism and takes it to heart much more than he likes to show and admit.

so, whenever you get the chance, you always fulfill his need to be appreciated, loved, and taken care of.

is utterly and extremely protective of you.

"who just whistled at you?" he grumbles, "i'll break their jaw like an apple, you know i will."

[kerie-prince]

forgotten birthdays

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (anon) Hiii, can I request something aangsty with Fred Weasley and slytherin reader? Like he got mad for something, maybe jealousy bc reader was spending much time with her house mates and he ignores her or says mean things to her but with a happy ending please 🥺

warnings: language

summary: Fred has his suspicions about your best friend and on the day of your birthday, he crosses the line which causes you to rethink your relationship

a/n: yoo this was hard to write for a quick second lol i hope you enjoy ~ plus, i got a new job so i'm in training and i'm so excited bc i've been wanting this job for so long (y/n/n = your nickname)

(gif not mine, cred to owner)

It was getting irritating.

You love Fred with all your heart, but he needed to stop being jealous. Marcus Flint was, is, and always will just be a friend of yours. You two grew up together and are nearly attached to the hip. Never once had you two of you flirted or done anything together. It was purely platonic, but Fred insisted there was something.

And going to Marcus’ prefect dorm after every fight probably didn't help your cause all that well, but he's your best friend. Who else would you talk to? You didn't have many girlfriends and when Fred introduced you to Angelina, you had gotten into a big fight for no reason. But you never asked him to stop hanging out with her even though you wanted to.

You could tell she liked Fred, but you were confident enough to know that Fred would never do you wrong like that. So why does he think that of you? Why does he get to hang out with Angelina, but he gets angry when you barely say two words to Marcus?

It was hard, but you’d work it out and still love each other at the end of the day. But then your birthday came around, and you’d just about had it.

You woke up in a good mood; the river sent in flowing rays of sunlight. Not too blinding, but not too dim either. This would be the second time celebrating your birthday with your boyfriend and if last year was amazing, you couldn't wait to see what Fred had planned for you today.

You took your time getting ready; you put on more make-up than usual and rather than tying your hair up with a clip as you always did, you let it down and fixed some strays to better frame your face. When you walked into the common room, your best friend snuck up behind you and yelled in your ear, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Y/N!”

Your natural response was to duck down and cover your ears. You hated when he did that, but you still appreciate the sentiment. You punched his arm as you laughed. “That’s not funny.”

“Oh yeah, then why did I laugh?” Marcus joked. Malfoy and his friends were behind him chuckling, all boys greeting you and wishing you a happy birthday. Marcus flung his arm around your shoulder and walked with you to get breakfast.

Once in the Great Hall, you saw Fred and his friends all laughing at the Gryffindor table and just when you were about to break free from Marcus’ hold, he pulled you back, “Oh no you don’t. You have all day to hang out with Weasley and company, but right now, you are gonna have at least one meal with your best friend.” You weren't going to argue; you didn't want to. If you wanted to sit with Fred, you wouldn't have to put up a fight, you would just do it. At your Slytherin table were Marcus’ other friends, Adrian Pucey and Terence Higgs. You sat in between them and pulled your hood up when they started embarrassing you by singing a birthday song. It was starting to be a great day.

However, across the Hall was Fred glaring daggers at your best friends’ arm around you. He couldn't hear what was going on, either due to the fact that you were pretty far from where he sat, or from jealous rage. “Freddie, you alright?” George asked his brother. “Yeah, just fine, Georgie.” He couldn't stand Flint. He would be enraged with every glance towards you, every whisper in your ear during class, and every time he made you laugh. Fred was sure that Flint was in love with you, but because you grew up with him you were too blind to see it. He was convinced that at any given moment, your ‘best friend’ would take advantage of you.

What also made him upset is that not only did you let Flint wrap his arm around you, you didn't even come say hi to your boyfriend. You always came every morning to his table to give him a morning kiss and sometimes even sat at the Gryffindor table.

In potions class, you sat and waited for your boyfriend to come through the doors. You weren't sure what to expect from him. Fred is an absolute wild card and could come through those doors with anything. And no matter what he brought, he’d for sure get in trouble with Snape.

When he walked through the doors with his brother and Lee, you sat up straight in your seat and waved at him. He saw you, but instead of smiling at you and taking the seat next to yours, he just looked away and sat on the other side of the room. Did something happen? You chose to ignore it until lunch rolled around and he still hadn't come up to you to even say ‘hi’ to you. Had he forgotten your birthday? It could happen, but that doesn't explain why he looked to be in a bad mood.

Once your classes were finished, you walked up the changing stairs and said the password to the Gryffindor dorms. You remembered the updated password your boyfriend gave you the week before and it was your first time using it today.

You didn't know what to expect to see; you secretly wished that today was just a big prank and Fred had actually planned a surprise party of some sort. But when you stepped foot into the room filled with tones of red and gold, there was no party. Just Fred laughing with his friends like normal. Normal without you.

Lee’s laugh died down when he noticed you walking up to Fred. He noticed Lee getting quiet all of a sudden and asked him, “Why are you quiet all of a sudden?” He felt a tap on his shoulder and spun around. “What are you doing in here?”

“Why, are Slytherins not allowed inside?” you joked. Your voice was slightly quiet and had a slight sad tone to it. “I missed you today, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine. I've just been busy. Like you have,” Fred didn't mean to sound so bitter, but he was getting tired of it. He was tired of being second best to Flint.

“What are you talking about?” you asked.

“You've been with Flint all day,” Fred explained himself. You rolled your eyes, two fingers grabbing the temple of your nose from it suddenly starting to become irritated like you were. “Merlin, this again? Freddie, we talked about this. Marcus is just a friend. He's my best friend.”

Fred scoffed, “Y/N/N, you may think that but he doesn't. You trust him too much to see it, but I do. He's not just a friend.”

“You’re friends with Angelina when you know she likes you. And I know it too, but I don't say anything because I don't want to be that girlfriend who controls her boyfriends,” you were tired of playing this game with him. Your voice was heard by everyone in the room and soon enough, tons of peers had all eyes on you. Some either decided to stay, and some like Neville decided to head straight into their dorm rooms and lock the door for safety.

“Me being friends with Angelina is nothing like you being friends with Flint and you know that,” Fred raised his voice louder than anyone’s probably heard him. George and Lee silently guided people out of the common room and up to the dorms. Some people looked over the stairs to get a view of the commotion downstairs. One of them being Angelina herself when she heard her name being called out.

“No you’re right, it's different because he’s not pining over me and waiting for me to become available,” your arms were flailing about in anger, pointing at nothing to put emphasis in your words.

“How many times do I have to say I don’t like Ang? It’s never going to happen!” Angelina heard from up the staircase. Everyone heard him, loud and clear. She ran into her dorm and slammed the door so hard that you could feel the walls shake. “Great,” Fred sighed in frustration. It wasn't the ideal way to let someone down. He intended on talking to her in private without listening ears so she wouldn't be embarrassed.

“I'm not saying you like Angelina. I know you don’t like Angelina. What I’m saying is that you’re wrong about Marcus. I know he doesn't like me, you're just acting insecure,” you yelled back at him..

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to see he has feelings for you, Y/N/N,” Fred yelled, “I see the way he looks at you in every class and in the Hall. But you’re too fucking stupid to see–,” he immediately stopped what he was saying.

You couldn't believe what he was telling you right now. You could handle him calling you naive, but stupid? This was low, even for him.

You were getting stares from everyone in the common room. Your pride was more than hurt in this moment; it was destroyed. No words came from your mouth as you were completely still in your seat on the couch. Your nails dug into your skin as it was formed into a tight fist. But the worst of all was that your lips were quivering and you had to fight the tears on your birthday.

Your fucking birthday.

“Well if it bothers you so much, then fine. I'll fix the problem,” you started to speak low for only him to hear you.

“How?”

“I’ll end the problem,” a single tear escaped and trailed down your cheeks. This was the last thing you wanted to do today, but you couldn't take it anymore. He was scared to ask, but his ego got in the way, “And what's the problem?”

“Us,” you stated. He started saying something, but you couldn't hear it as you left. No, you actively ignored everything he was saying at that point. The second you were outside, you started bawling. And you kept at it all the way to the Slytherin common room and into your room.

You paced around your room rubbing your hands on your arms to try and calm yourself down, but nothing was working. Before you even processed it, your legs took you to Marcus’ room without second thought. You continuously knocked on his door until he answered, shirtless and with sweatpants that looked like they were just thrown on.

“Listen, I know it’s your birthday but that doesn't mean that you can do whatever you want–,” he focused in on your face and saw your red cheeks and puffy eyes. You looked behind him and there was a girl with him who sat in his bed looking curious. He looked back to her and just simply ordered, “Out,” which got her moving in seconds.

Once she was gone, he pulled you in and shut his door. Marcus guided you to a black leather chair in his room. “Sit,” his voice was stern, but never harsh with you. “What happened?”

As if by cue, you broke down completely. “It's o-o-over.”

“What is?” he questioned. But piecing it together, there's only one reason you'd be this upset in his room.

He never really knew what to do in situations like when you'd have your usual arguments, always just telling you that everything will be fine and you and Fred would be fine in the morning.

But now, he was feeling two things. One, slight heartache that his best friend is upset in front of him and two, nearly absolute rage that Fred is such an idiot.

Marcus started rubbing your back, “Hey, look at me.” When you shook your head no, he gently tapped on your shoulders until you did. “You are gonna be fine. Okay? You will be fine. There's plenty of other guys here–”

“I don't want to be with other guys, Marcus. I want Fred. I love Fred. But,” you shrugged up both hands, “I don't know. I don't know.” Your best friend pulled you in for a hug.

“Hey, sleep here tonight. You shouldn't be alone right now, especially today.” You nodded your head and kept crying until you couldn't anymore.

—

“HEY!” Marcus’ voice traveled beyond the corridors. Students were fleeing left and right to move out of his way as he made a straight line towards the group of Gryffindors who sat around a tree outside.

Before they could react to what was going on, Marcus punched one of the tall gingers in his abdomen. “OW, what was that for?!”

“You're going to apologize to Y/N right now,” Marcus demanded.

“You idiot, I'm George,” he corrected, still bent over and leaning on Lee for balance. “Shit, sorry.” Marcus looked at Fred and punched him in the same area quicker before Fred could block it. “You're going to apologize to Y/N.”

With a strain in his voice, Fred looked at the Slytherin in front of him, “What for, she broke up with me.”

“Okay, why? Because you're pathetic and insecure.”

“Is that what she told you?” Fred straightened himself up rubbing on the pain. “Of course she told you, she tells you everything.”

“Yeah, why wouldn't she? I'm her cousin,” Marcus pointed out. If he wasn't so mad, he would laugh at Fred's look of astonishment.

“No, you have different family names. And you don't even look related,” Fred wasn't buying it.

“That's because when I was eight, my dad married her aunt. I'm still her cousin,” Marcus explained.

“She never told me anything, how was I supposed to know?” Fred complained. George and his other friends left the two to argue by themselves but stood at a close enough distance to hear the conversation and be able to jump in if it were to get violent.

“Maybe if you got your head out of your ass, you would actually pay attention to her,” Marcus used his pointer finger to push against Fred’s forehead which caused the ginger to swat his hand away. “So get over whatever complex you have and apologize. If I'm being honest, there's plenty of Slytherins that can treat her better but she wants you for some reason.”

Fred knew he was right. And it was that reason why he always felt the way he did. You were enamored by many housemates, all handsome and rich. But you didn't like any of them. You love Fred. You love the lanky, devious, modestly handsome, funny Gryffindor more than anyone you've ever met.

Fred didn't say anything and walked away. His brother was asking where he was going but he didn't answer. Before he was out of Marcus’ sight, the Slytherin said one last thing, “By the way, I hope you know it was her birthday yesterday.”

Fuck. He picked up his pace and ran towards the dungeons. Halfway there, he figured that he didn't want to show up empty handed, so he made a detour to the greenhouse to 'borrow’ some flowers from Sprout’s personal garden.

You sat on one of the couches in your common room. Across from you was Adrian and Terence, arguing about some Ravenclaw girl. Some younger students passed by and whispered amongst themselves to which you didn't pay any mind to until you heard a third year say something about a Weasley being outside.

You knew it wasn't Ron because after his second year break in with Harry, he vowed that he'd never do it again. You stood up and nearly sprinted outside.

Fred was standing awkwardly outside. He tried to get a student to ask for you to come outside but they would all just scrunch their noses in disgust and keep walking. “Annoying little–”

“What are you doing here?” you asked. Your arms were crossed and you slouched your shoulders a bit. Fred noticed how your cheeks were swollen and the bags under your eyes were tinted a rosy pink. In his left hand, there was a single, large sunflower. He raised it in front of you, hoping you would accept it. “You know I’m allergic to those, right?”

Fred’s eyes bulged out. There is no way I didn't know this. Figuring he’s had enough torture, you spoke again, “I’m joking.”

“O-oh. Heh.” You grabbed the flower from him. “I’m… really sorry. I was such an arse–”

“You are an arse,” you corrected. “Yeah, you’re right. I should have trusted Flint. I should have trusted you. And if you’d let me, I want to prove that I do.”

You released a deep sigh and rubbed your forehead. “Freddie. You have to mean it this time. I can't keep going back and forth with you like this. You can't throw a fit every time I hang out with Marcus. Or Adrian. Or Terence.”

“So is that a yes?” Fred persisted. You looked at him properly in his eyes; he seemed sincere this time. And you could only hope that he was. With a nod of your head, Fred broke into smiles and picked you up from the floor and twirled you around. Your head was still sore from all the crying the night before, but you still had a smile on your face.

When he put you down, he took the hand that wasn't holding the flower and walked with you to the Great Hall for food. “So when were you going to tell me that Flint is your cousin?”

“I figured you’d find out at a family gathering or something had you waited a little longer.” He pinched your nose in response, “And you call me devious.”

—

requests open!

[barbarianprncess]

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀

for mari my beloved, 

(aka @chironshorseass ) 

as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :). 

(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)

(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)

(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)

24 hours

read on ao3

enjoy <3

                                                      ...

Percy is fucking exhasted.

He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.

Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.  

But then he remembers.

He retracts his hands.

He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.

“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.

“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.

“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.

He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.

“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.

“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”

Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.

He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.

“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.

“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”

She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.

“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”

Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.

“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.

“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”

“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”

“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.

She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.

“Best friends. 24 hours.”

He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.

“Where do we start?”

...

Apparently it starts with homework.

After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.

Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.

It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.

He’s so screwed.

...

The stables are almost empty when they get there.

After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.

When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.

Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:

“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”

Frankly, it was fucking adorable.

Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.

They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.

(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)

...

As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.

“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.”  He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.

“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”

He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.

...

(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.

“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.

“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)

...

“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”

It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.

(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)

He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

...

He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.

Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.

Come to me.

Minutes pass.

“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.

She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”

He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.

This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.

Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.

“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.

“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.

Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.

“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”

Annabeth stares blankly.

“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.

Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red.  As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”

So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.

(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)

(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)

...

(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.

He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.

And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.

And it's perfect.)

...

Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.

Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.  

...

When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.

Oh.

Oh no.

Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.

“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.

“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.

“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.

“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”

She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”

“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”

“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”

“So what do we do?”

She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”

...

Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.

They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.

“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”

They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.

“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”

“Uh-oh, what?”

She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”

“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.  

“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.

“What.”  

“I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe what?”

“You forgot our spot.”

“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”

“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.

“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”

“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”

“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”

She smiles, “I can show you.”

...

“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”

Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found.  His first real best-friend.

They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.

He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.

He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.

He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.

He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.

He loves her.

He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.

So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,

“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”

She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.

They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

______________

(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)

(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)

______________

if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)

[itsthestutterforme]

The Affair (Mr. Cho)

Summary: Y/N sets aside the past she had with Mr. Cho when she realizes he's in trouble. //SMUT Warning, photo is not mine.

Yelling yourself awake, your sweat trickles down your chest and back to be absorbed by your already drenched shirt. Standing up from the couch, you glance at the clock and it read 8:21 pm. You didn't even realize you fell asleep.

You pull off the shirt as you walk into you bedro and toss it across the room. You reach into the drawer to grab another shirt.

You freeze when you see Cho's shirt and slowly reach for it. You had a nightmare about Cho being ambushed and kidnapped. It felt too real to be a dream.

You hated yourself for calling off your relationship with Cho. There was something about how could make you feel like you were the queen of everything by blessing everything you touched. The two of you were meant for each other. You could even go as far as being soulmates in another lifetime.

But in this lifetime, he had a wife and an entire family. You couldn't bring yourself to take time away from them just so he could be with you. You loved him for being able to make that decision, but you loved him enough to make the ultimate decision that be cannot make.

You pull Cho's shirt over head and take your phone into your hands to call Vincenzo. After the fourth ring, he whispers a soft hello when he answers. "What's wrong, why are you whispering?" You say. "It's Mr. Cho." Your heart sinks in your chest. "What about him?"

"He's been held captive. I-" "Where are you right now," "No, Y/N. I will not let you get hurt," "Tell me now, Vinenzo." There was a moment of silence before you hear a deep sigh. "The Geumga Plaza," he says before hanging up.

Rushing to the drawer to grab black jeans, shirt and shoes. You change your clothes as fast as you could and pulled your hair into a high bun. You grabbed your keys and were out the door.

Gi-seok met me into the parking garage and led me to the rest of the group. When you guys rounded the corner, Vincenzo was on his knees as he bled from his head. A man stood over him and raised his leg to kick him.

"Enough!" You say, making everyone stop their motions. The rest of the group mimicked what you said and you rolled your eyes annoyingly. The next thing you knew they were rushing towards you. You duck under the blow the first man threw and thrust kicked him against the wall.

Hitting one man in the throat, you grab his arm and pop it out of place. He yells and you roundhouse kick his face, knocking him out cold. You block another blow and punch him once in the throat and again in his solar plexus before tossing him to the ground.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and when you turned around, it was one of those goons. By the time you had a time to react, an older woman with boxing gloves punches him in the face. You thank her with a soft nod before seeing a man run towards you.

You run towards him and hop on his shoulder to clamp onto his neck when you both rolled on the ground. Using all of your strength and momentum, you throw clear across the plaza, knocking down his people like bowling pins.

Looking around the remaining goons are fighting with the other members of the Cassano family, leaving you wugb the two guys that held Cho.

You were in the process of walking towards him when he broke free and punch one across the face before kicking the other in the chest. He looks at you warmly and you could feel your heart flutter in your chest.

Without thinking, you touched his face tenderly. His right cheek was swollen and covered with bruises. He had a cut above his left eye and his lip was bleeding.

"It isn't as bad as it looks," he says softly. You shake you head and bit your lip angrily. None of this would have happened if he was with you.

"I know what you're thinking, and it's not true." He adds. Pulling away from his face, you move your attention to the bruises peeking out from his shirt.

"You need to go to the hospital," "Why?" "You could have some internal bleeding. We have to make sure." You explain. "I don't t-" you grab his hand and drag him across the plaza to your car.

**

Turns out he did have some internal bleeding from how many blows he took to the chest and stomach. The doctors say that if he didn't come in as soon as he did, he could have died choking on his own blood.

The doctors called Cho's wife that you haven't officially met yet, but she thanked you for saving his life anyway.

You decided to leave soon after, not want to take time away from him and him family. It's been a week since you've seen him last. He hasn't texted or called you, which is both heartbreaking and good at the same time. It means that he's been taking advantage of his new time.

Throwing your gym bag over your shoulder, you reach for the door knob until you heard a knock on your door. You look through the peep hole to see Cho with a large basket in his hands. "What the.." you say to yourself.

Opening the door, your eyes glance over the basket before meeting his gaze. "What's all this?" "See for yourself," he says, giving me the basket. You look at him and he gives you the okay to open it. Setting the basket down on the table, you could hear him door close behind you.

Your eyes widen when you open the basket to see a new iPhone 11 box with an Apple watch sitting right there beside it. Laying there on the bottom was a cotton penguin sweatshirt with a matching fleece shorts bottoms and socks. At the side was your favorite candy, Y/F/C. All of this together could easily be $1000.

"Cho, what are you." You trail off when you notice how close he was to you. "Why are you doing this?" You ask. He smooths over your hair with his hand and cups the back of your head. "I told her everything." He says. "What?!" You say as you pull away from him.

"Why would you do that? You have a family of your own, why would you put that in jeopardy for someone like me?" "Because you are my family, and I love you." "No, Cho, I will never forgive myself if I am the reason why you get divorced from your wife."

Every step he takes towards you, you take a step back until he walks you into the wall near the door. "You saved my life," he whispers as he cups your cheeks.

His eyes drift from your eyes to your lips but doesn't move from his spot as he searches your eyes for approval. He closes the gap between you by pressing his lips to yours.

His abs brushed against your stomach as he pulled you closer to him. Your hands trailed along his jawline as his tongue invades your mouth. He pulls away to kiss down you neck, your skin igniting under his touch. He takes both of your hands into his and pin them against the wall.

He turns you around and pulls your back into his chest. He caresses the back of your arms and sucks on the sensitive skin along the base of your neck. He pulls off your shirt and left warm kiss down your spine. You loved how he took his time with you. He wasn't in any rush.

Series of moans left your lips when he snakes into to your pants and cups your pussy, rubbing soft circles on your clit. Your legs fall open to give him more access, but you were starting to get impatient.

"Please," you beg as he pulls away from you and licks your justice off his fingers with a hum. "I've missed you," he says, lifting you up and throwing you on his shoulder without warning. He flips the light on and sets you on the bed gently before pulling off your tights.

Maintaining eye contact, he slides two fingers into you bundle of nerves and curled at different angles until he hit one of your gspot. Your legs started to tense as a familiar knot forms in your stomach.

He isolates his fingers so his middle finger strokes the upper wall of your pussy while his ring finger and index finger rub circles on the sides. His eyebrows were pressed together as if he was really focused on something.

That was when it hit me you yell out in shock when he hits three separate gspots. "There we go, sweetheart." He rubs your clit with his opposite thumb and your body was thrashing, unable to deal with the increasingly huge wave that was crashing over you.

He continued to move his talented fingers and your stomach grew sore from tensing your abs so much. You were on the brink of your second orgasm when he slowed down his fingers, making you whine.

He took off his glasses and kissed down your stomach. Curling his finger slowly, he moves down you body until his face was settled in between your thighs. He picks up the face with his fingers as kitten licked your sensitive bud. "Oh!" One hand gripped the sheets while the other gripped his hair.

Even after your second orgasm whipped through you, your legs were involuntarily trembling. He cups your cheeks and presses a burningly slow kiss on your lips, taking the air right out of your lungs. "You are... you're amazing." You say, making him chuckle.

"I'm nowhere near done with you yet,"

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer IV

Part 07: Crashing Down

series masterlist | previous part

summary: A jarring family emergency forces you to consider the future of your relationship with Rafe Cameron.

a/n: I'm a little bit emotional about this series ending because I've had so much fun writing it! Enjoy the last part and, as always, please come share your reactions with me in my inbox. Okay, that's all from me!

word count: 2.1k words

Rafe Cameron knew how to text. He was somehow witty, charming, and hilarious all in less characters than a single tweet. Texting with most boys was like talking to a brick wall: single-syllable answers, unironic uses of punctuation, asking “What are you wearing?” before even listening to how your day went. Though, to be fair, Rafe had asked that same question a few times, which always earned him a sarcastic answer in return. Well, except for that one time.

You’d been forced to spill the beans about your dreamy summer romance to Alice and Kensie after one of Rafe’s funnier texts almost made you pee yourself laughing at the lunch table.

“Oh, so he’s a stud muffin,” Alice announced, peering over Kenzie’s shoulder at the photo on your phone.

“Please god don’t call anyone a stud muffin ever again Al,” Kenzie replied.

“What? The 80s are like making a comeback.”

“Yeah, not that,” you countered and Alice huffed.

“He’s totally hot though,” Kenzie said, handing the phone back to you. “And I kinda hate you for not telling us about him.”

You looked down at the picture. Rafe was kissing your check while you grinned up at the camera, the golden hour lighting made the whole thing look rather enchanting. It was your favorite picture of you and him.

“Oh shit,” Kenzie said causing you to look up from the phone. “You’re like in love in love with him.”

“What? No,” you protested. Yes, your brain corrected.

Kenzie glanced over at Alice for backup.

“Besides, I wasn’t hiding him. I just didn’t know if there was anything there to...tell,” you finished.

“I wish I had a handsome summer fling with spectacular cheekbones,” Alice sighed.

“Don’t let your boyfriend hear you saying that.” Kenzie chucked a fry off her tray at Alice who dodged it expertly.

“Oh, please. Matty knows I would dump his ass for someone who looks like a young Chuck Bass any day of the week. Gimme your phone. I wanna see the photos again y/n.”

“I seriously don’t know how you and Matthew have been together for two years,” Kenzie replied.

“Are you kidding? They’re practically made for each other,” you added.

“The phone, please,” Alice interjected. “I wanna thirst over your mans while my boyfriend is sucking up to his English teacher so she doesn’t fail him. Of course, I told him he needed to actually read Wuthering Heights and not just sparknotes it. But did he listen? No. I picked a real winner y’all,” she finished, taking the phone from your outstretched hands. “You sure Rafe doesn’t have any brothers? Not even like a half-step brother?”

So yeah, going great. Against the odds of three thousand miles, the whole thing was somehow working. Long-distance friends with benefits? Check. Well, except for those moments when that nagging feeling in your stomach came back and you’d start overthinking everything. His texts would sit, unread in your phone for days or even a whole week, slowly sinking to the bottom of your messages.

Then came the call from the Kildare Country Hospital in the early hours of a foggy April morning. You should have gone to sleep hours ago but were still up, desperately trying to cram Maria’s lines into your brain while also texting Rafe. The Sound of Music opened in three weeks and your director had already chewed you out twice for not being off-book, something about being an upperclassman and the lead, and what kind of an example were you setting for the rest of the program. Big speeches were kind of your director's thing, you learned to just ride them out.

Around 1 a.m. your phone ran with an incoming FaceTime call from Rafe. You pressed the green acccept button, a smile spread across your face as Rafe’s own filled the screen.

“Hey Broadway Star.”

“Hi Rafe.” The dim lighting of his bedroom made his feature especially striking. “What are you still doing up?”

“Can’t sleep. Plus you’re up too so. How’s the memorizing going?”

“Shitty,” you replied, closing your binder with a sigh. “I’m too tired to do anymore of it tonight anyway.”

“You know, I was thinking I could come to Oregon for your opening night?”

“Really?” The possibility of Rafe sitting in the audience made your heart race.

“Yeah, why not? I’ll ask Ward if I can borrow the plane that weekend and I bet Sarah’ll want to come too. I wanna see my girl kill it. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Rafe. You know my friends think you’re hot.”

“Oh, do they?” Rafe replied, rolling over onto his back in his bed.

“Don’t let it get to your head, Cameron.”

The home phone ran but you ignored it, much more invested in your conversation with Rafe. The second time the hospital left a message. Your Nonna’s heart had given out. The prognosis wasn’t good. She had barely any time left.

Your heart dropped as the words echoed over the speaker of the answering machine.

“Rafe,” you said, cutting him off momentarily. “I gotta go. I’ll call you back later. I gotta-” you ended the call before Rafe even had the chance to respond. You dropped your phone on the kitchen table, dashing up the stairs to your parents’ bedroom. Your father was booking a flight for your mother back to the Outer Banks minutes later.

The end had come so quickly, so unexpectedly. It was almost like that made it harder. There'd been just enough time for your mom and uncle to get to the Outer Banks, sitting on each side of your Nonna as her final breaths passed through her lungs. Now, everyone was there to say goodbye one last time. Uncle Austin and his fiancé. Your mom and dad. Both your siblings. The entire population of Figure Eight.

☼☼☼

Rain drizzled down from the dark, gray clouds looming overhead. It was as if Mother Nature was mourning your Nonna too, hiding the sunshine away.

Three baby ducks followed their mama into the man-made pond at the edge of the cemetery. You watched their tiny feet kick up small waves disturbing the peaceful water and the tears silently slipped down your face.

The cars were waiting to take you back to your Nonna's house for the wake. The same house with the for-sale sign now stuck in the front yard. The for-sale sign with Rose's patronizing grin that you were starting to really hate. Your dad had handled that. Listing the house. He'd handled most of the funeral arrangement's actually because your mother had been too sunken into her grief to make any decision. Sending out the invitations, picking out your Nonna's casket, choosing the flowers. Your mother clung to him during the entire funeral, weeping into his shoulder.

“Y/n?” Rafe's voice called out from behind you and you turned to see him walked toward you. He’d stood at the back of the church with his family during the funeral. You had longed for him to be sitting in the first pew next to you, to have had his hand to hold onto to ground you, but it hardly would have been appropriate. Your Nonna would have sooner risen from the dead than have had a Cameron front row at her funeral.

As soon as he was close enough, Rafe reached for you, pulling your body tight into him. Your head landed on his chest and the sobs came moments later. God, he always smelled the same. He just let you cry, holding you close, smoothing his hand over your hair.

“I know you’re selling your grandma’s house but I was thinking you could stay with me for the summer," he said as your tears began to slow. It was hard to imagine that you wouldn't return to the Outer Banks once school let out. It was the first week of May already and you could feel the tourist-attracting town waking up. But selling the house just made more sense. Your older sister was already living her life in New York, a real adult life. Next summer, you'd be moving out too, headed to college. The house would sit empty for eight months out of the year, your family couldn't keep it and your uncle certainly didn’t want it. Selling it just had to happen.

You stepped back, slipping out of his embrace. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Rafe.”

“Why not?”

“Cause we’re like Romeo and Juliet.”

“I copied Cleo’s notes for that unit," he joked, trying to lighten to damp mood. “Plus I was never a fan of Leo DiCaprio so I didn’t finish the movie either.”

“It means we’re not supposed to be together, you and me. And whenever we try, the universe rips us apart. We hurt each other.”

Rafe shifted awkwardly on his feet, clearly wanting to reach for you again but stopping himself from doing it. “But I can't lose you.”

You reached your hand out, brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “Oh Rafe, don’t you get it? You never really had me.” You stood up onto your tiptoes to kiss him just like you had the first time three years ago. Rafe barely parted his lips, kissing you back gently. Your hand cupped his face, your thump stroking over his cheek. It was a goodbye. Both of you knew it. It was an ending and this was your closure. You pulled away, your hand falling away from his face.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say the actual words. Your eyes fell to the ground. You needed to walk away now. You side-stepped Rafe but he grabbed your waist, turning you back around to face him.

“So that’s it? You’re not even gonna try to fight for us?”

“What even is there to fight for, Rafe? I’ve been fighting for us for the past four years. If we were supposed to be together that car wouldn’t have crashed into ours, I wouldn’t have fallen for Evan when I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation at my Nonna’s funeral. What? Are we supposed to do long distance for all of college? I hardly know who I am right now. I have no idea who I’ll be in the next four years. Our future selves might not even like each other. I’m not gonna wait around for you Rafe and I would never ask you to do that for me.” You twirled the small, star charm between your fingers, a nervous habit you'd developed over the past year. His eyes dropped down to your neck momentarily and his adam's apple visibly bobbing as he swallowed his next weeks.

“You were it for me, you know. I tried to give a fuck about anyone else but I couldn’t get your gorgeous, stupid face out of my mind. I only wanted you.” Rafe paused gauging your reaction “I was falling in love with you.”

Your eyes wandered over his stoic expression. “The feeling was mutual, Rafe Cameron.”

He dropped your wrist but you both stood, not moving or saying anything. “Do you wanna walk me back to the car?”

“Yeah.” He reached for your hand, interlocking your fingers. Your other hand held onto his bicep so you walked together through the graveyard back to the parking lot.

The moment felt precious and delicate, like the fragile china your Nonna used to collect. You wondered what would happen to all that china.

Rafe placed a chaste kiss on your lips before opening the door of the car.

“I’ll miss you,” you said, the words hanging in the air meaning so much.

“Me too,” Rafe agreed.

You wanted one more kiss, one more passionate declaration of how much this all had meant but that would make leaving Rafe so much more impossible.

You climbed into the car, dropping Rafe’s hand in the process.

“See you around Cameron.” You knew it wouldn’t happen but it felt better than a goodbye.

He smiled back. “Maybe so.”

Perhaps Rafe was right and you’d both end up at a small liberal arts college in California taking the same second-year Econ class with a professor who always smelled like weed. Perhaps the stars would align and two of you would realize the universe wasn’t trying to keep you apart. It was just waiting for the right moment to show you that the love you had for each other was the soulmates, forever and ever kind of love. Perhaps you would get married and Sarah would be your maid of honor, of course. You’d buy back your Nonna’s house to raise your troubling-making kids in. Perhaps, you would find your way back and wake up each day and choose each other again and again.

Or perhaps, he'd always be your right-person-wrong-time. And, in the end, the passing days will steal away your memories of the blue-eyed boy from the Outer Banks.

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