#good morning everyone i spent like an entire hour going through double checking making sure my quotes were accurate listening to

[qroier]

thinking about the entire speech cellbit made after green gay ninjas got eliminated. thinking about how he played el triste by jose jose. thinking about "i think he's sad but he doesn't want to show it". about "i wish i could've been that someone you needed to not be alone anymore". thinking about their vows and "as long as i'm here you will never be alone" and "i will always be by your side for anything you need". about "i'll look for you and until i find you i will not stop" and "i won't let them, i won't allow them to take you". thinking of temos todo o tempo do mundo / we have all the time of the world and la historia de este amor se escribio para la eternidad / the story of this love was written for eternity. about "it's cellbit and me against the world" and "as long as we're together we will be able to win" and "but we have one another at least". and also thinking about roier's y yo que (and what of me) after the bomb exploded. about how he never said te amo back. about how his only reaction upon getting back to quesadilla island was an incredibly telling "everything is the same, except cellbit, who's dead" and a stupid joke about his tennis shoes saving them. thinking of hoy quiero saborear mi dolor, no pido compasion ni piedad / today i want to savor my pain, i don't ask for compassion nor pity. thinking about how spiderbit was separated. but most of all, thinking about how their reunion will go. when it finally happens

[yournameoneverypage]

When You're Ready

Reader request: Shawn Mendes x (y/n). "Shawn is on tour and invites the reader to the show so he can ask her to be his girlfriend and he sings When You're Ready, but Camila shows up and the reader is convinced that it's for C and not for her."

Word Count: ~3.7

Notes: Mostly fluff with brief moments of angst, and a smut ending.

Warnings: NSFW

~ * ~

(Y/n) stood at baggage claim at LAX, waiting for her blush-colored suitcase to roll by on the carousel. She was going to be in California for almost a week. Why? Well, her best friend was Shawn Mendes and he was currently on tour. He was missing her something fierce, he had said, and he wanted her to come see him.

Shawn had two sold out shows, consecutive nights, at the Staples Center followed by a show in San Francisco three days later, so why not make a week of it? His idea, but the second he mentioned it she was on board. She’d figure it out, find a way to make it work.

Any time she got to spend with him was both treasured and torturous. But she would go through the pain and heartache over and over again if it meant nearly a week with her most favorite person.

See, the thing was, (y/n) had been in love with Shawn for nearly as long as she had known him.

~ * ~

After retrieving her bag, (y/n) went in search of her driver. Shawn had said he or she would be holding a sign with her name on it. Shawn had a few interviews to do that morning, so (y/n) would be taken to his hotel to wait for him to finish, and then they’d have the entire afternoon and evening to spend together.

Aside from the aforementioned interviews, this was a day off for Shawn and he wanted to make the most of it because the Staples Center shows were the following two nights, and there wouldn’t be much down time during the days with soundchecks, meet and greets, and Q&As before showtime. Fortunately they would have more time to spend together between LA and San Francisco.

(Y/n) located her driver, who smiled brightly and introduced himself as John. He took her bag and engaged her in friendly chatter as he led her toward an idling Range Rover.

Who left a vehicle like this idling curbside at the airport?

John opened the rear passenger door for her with a knowing grin. (Y/n) started to climb in before she even noticed him.

“Shawn!” She almost tipped over into his lap reaching across the seat to hug him.

“Surprise, babe!” he chuckled into her ear.

“You’re here!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t collect you myself, but as much as I love my fans, I didn’t want to get stuck here for a half an hour taking selfies.”

“I thought you were in interviews all morning.”

“I was. I was hoping to come with John to pick you up, but I honestly didn’t know how long all the interviews were going to take so I didn’t want you to be disappointed if I said I would be here but then wasn’t.”

He was always so thoughtful; it was one of the many, many things (y/n) loved about him. She linked her hand with his between them, squeezed, and smiled. “I missed you.”

With a grin, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Missed you, too. So much. I’m so happy you’re here,” he breathed.

~ * ~

The day flew by way too quickly.

Once Shawn got (y/n) checked in and settled at the hotel, in a room that adjoined his, they grabbed lunch at one of Shawn’s favorite places.

It was (y/n)’s first ever visit to Los Angeles. Shawn had asked her if there were any specific things that were on her must do/see list, and he’d take care of everything.

They visited the Griffith Observatory, and strolled down the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

(Y/n) thought, and Shawn agreed, that too much attention might be drawn to them if he was spotted along Venice Beach or the Santa Monica Pier, as he had already been approached a few times during their activities earlier in the day. (Y/n) had been understanding and supportive of him spending a few minutes chatting with his fans and taking photos. She actually took a few of the photos herself.

Another day, he promised.

Instead, they spent a good part of the late afternoon and early evening at the Getty Center Museum.

They had dinner in Little Tokyo, followed by drinks at a tiki bar. Only one for (y/n) because she was a lightweight and tiki drinks were known to be quite strong. Shawn stopped after two, as he had a full day the next day and didn’t want to risk waking up with a hangover.

Back at the hotel, freshly showered, in pajamas, and in Shawn’s room, stretched out on his king-sized bed, Shawn and (y/n) ordered something from room service to share.

Even though they had chosen a movie to watch, they were too busy talking and laughing to pay much attention to the television.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day One, had (y/n) immersed in the thick of things with Shawn, his band, and his crew. She knew only a few of them and was introduced to many more. Her laminated pass was the same as what everyone else had, giving her access to anything and anywhere she wished.

She soaked up as much as possible.

Shawn didn’t always attend soundcheck with his band, but for (y/n) he definitely wanted to be there so she could fully experience it. She stayed backstage, chatting with Shawn’s people while he did his meet and greet photos. She sat in on his Q&A session but stayed unobtrusively toward the back of the room. She could talk to him whenever she wanted; this was his fans’ time with him.

The concert was unbelievable, as (y/n) knew it would be. Shawn always left his heart and gratitude on stage.

That night they were in (y/n)’s room, she on one of the doubles, Shawn in the other. He was still a little high on adrenaline, asking her how she enjoyed the day, and especially how she enjoyed the show.

She knew it wouldn’t be long before he completely crashed out. When he did, he was still in her room.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day Two, was much the same, although they started the day with Shawn dragging (y/n) to the gym to work out with him. They also skipped soundcheck to get lost together in the backstage corridors.

The closer it came to showtime, the more anxious Shawn seemed to get. He had a different vibe about him than he had the night before.

While eating dinner, (y/n) asked him if everything was alright. He assured her everything was amazing; it just felt like something big was about to happen and he hoped it would turn out to be a good kind of big.

~ * ~

Again, the show was absolutely incredible, although after the song he normally ended with, before acknowledging his band and going into the encore, he tried to quiet the deafening audience with a finger pressed against his lips.

Of course, it was futile. He just laughed, somewhat nervously, and said, “This song is for someone very special to me. Someone who is here tonight. I want her to know how I feel about her...”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention.

Shawn found (y/n) in the audience, met her eyes, and smiled adoringly.

Maybe I had too many drinks But that's just what I needed I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

(Y/n)’s heart started thumping. He couldn’t be singing this for her, could he...? He had never expressed any interest in her as more than a friend. Had he?

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

A couple of girls beside (y/n) bent their heads together and pointed to something or someone standing to the side of the stage. Shawn seemed to notice, as she had, and looked toward the side stage.

She followed his line of vision to see Camila standing there, beaming brightly. She put her fingertips to her lips and blew him a big kiss.

(Y/n) didn’t notice, over the dizzying blood rush in her head, that Shawn seemed to stumble a little through the chorus.

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin'

He glanced once more toward Camila, but just as quickly his smile settled again in (y/n)’s direction. His voice steadied and grew stronger.

What if my dad is right When he says that you're the one No, I can't even argue I won't even fight him on it Call you when it's late And I know that you're in bed 'Cause I'm three hours back Seems like you're always six ahead

(Y/n) smiled back, although it seemed more reflexive than genuine, as her heart was currently crumbling to pieces. She tried her hardest to be happy for her best friend and the woman he was currently confessing his feelings for, on stage, in front of everyone.

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin', yeah

And if I have to, I'll wait forever Say the word and I'll change my plans Yeah, you know that we fit together I know your heart like the back of my hand...

Before the song ended, overwhelmed, unable to continue her façade, (y/n) had slipped from the crowd and backstage.

She wasn’t sure where to go once she was backstage. She was fighting back tears, so her vision was blurry, but she didn’t want to stop to ask anyone how to get out of the venue because they might ask why she was crying and then it would all turn into one big mess.

A voice from behind her asked, “You’re Shawn’s friend, right? Are you looking for his dressing room?” Was she? Would she be able to face him after his encore and bows?

“Yes, please,” she found herself answering.

“End of the corridor, turn right, first door on the left.”

(Y/n) nodded her thanks and began to follow the directions she was given. She wasn’t sure if it would be the first or last place anyone would be looking for her.

~ * ~

Shawn burst into his dressing room, out of breath from the end of his show and running around looking for (y/n). Incredibly relieved to see her, he gasped, “Are you okay? What happened?? You just disappeared!”

“I’m sorry. I just needed a few minutes.”

“In the middle of the most important song of the night?”

Her voice cracked. “I said I was sorry.” And she was. She should have stayed till the end. “I was caught off guard.”

“Oh no, babe. Shit! I’m sorry, (y/n). I overwhelmed you, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have made it so public. It should have been a private conversation. Forgive me?” he whispered.

“Of course. You’re my best friend and I’m happy for you,” she smiled softly, truly. And she was. His happiness meant more to her than anything else. It was just going to take some time to refortify her heart. “I wish you and Camila the best.”

“Camila?” Little wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” she puffed.

Suddenly Shawn started laughing.

(Y/n) placed her hands in the center of his chest and pushed him away, unamused.

He caught her wrists and pulled her to him. “I wasn’t singing that song for her.” He placed her hands over his heart and covered them with his own. “I was singing it for you, my beautiful, clueless, wonderful, precious love.”

“What?” she exhaled.

“I finished singing and looked for your eyes, only to find you gone.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Not Camila. You, (y/n). In front of the entire Staples Center audience. Why did you think I wanted Camila?”

“You kept looking at her side stage.”

“I glanced at her twice,” he contended, lightheartedly. “I was surprised. I didn’t expect her to be here tonight. It’s true that she recently told me she has deeper feelings for me-”

“And you have always had feelings for her.”

“I had feelings for her. Past tense. Before I met you. Are you really arguing with me about how I feel about you?” he smirked.

“But you didn’t sing that song last night, when Camila wasn’t here.”

“You are!” he laughed again.

“Stop laughing!” she exclaimed, unable to stop herself from giggling, her heart blooming with hope. She then whispered, “Did you really mean it?”

“Oh, darling...

“If I had professed my feelings last night and you had turned me down, I don’t think I would have been able to get through tonight. Telling you tonight, when there were three days before San Francisco, would have either given us time to disappear together for a few days, or would have given me time to sort myself out if you didn’t want me the way I want you.

“Please tell me you want me.”

(Y/n) wanted to scream, yes, I want you!, but instead she teased, trying to keep a straight face, “I don’t know. Any boyfriend of mine has to be a good kisser. Are you a good kisser?”

“I am a fantastic kisser,” he grinned. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and slid his hand to the nape of her neck.

“Prove it.”

His other hand circled her waist, fell against the small of her back. He leaned in, watched her eyelids flutter, then close, and gently guided her lips to his.

She had imagined this moment for so long but it was much more than she had ever expected. Thousands of thoughts were forced away to make room for one single idea. How could one kiss cause the world to fall away around her?

“Shawn,” she said, breathless, easing away.

“Still proving it,” he murmured. He softly licked at the seam of her lips, and when she responded he deepened their kiss. Her heart was pounding, and she was warm from head to toe. She felt his tongue meet hers and her entire body began to hum.

Their knees were weak when their lips separated.

Shawn touched his nose to hers. “Well...?”

“I will be more than happy to kiss you all night long, but only after you take a shower,” she giggled.

~ * ~

(Y/n) knocked on the adjoining door. She didn’t wait for a response before letting herself through.

Shawn was leaning against the dresser, partly sitting on it, phone to his ear, wearing nothing but baggy, cotton pajama pants. His chest and feet were bare. By his side of the conversation, (y/n) grasped that they were talking about the plan for the days leading up to San Francisco.

He held his hand out to her in invitation. His legs fell open and she automatically moved into the V they made. He ended his call, set his cell aside, and placed his large hands on her hips.

“So, about what you said... Something about kissing me all night long?”

She moved even closer to him. One of her hands curled around the back of his neck, the other tangled in his still damp curls. The roughened pads of his thumbs caressed the bare, soft skin just above the waistband of her pajama shorts.

She kissed him, tenderly at first, and then with growing intensity. He gently bit her top lip, sucked it, her teeth tugged on his lower lip. His kiss was determined and sent her head spinning. She began to tremble as she clung to him.

Shawn’s lips slowed and softened; he eased away and breathed, “I’ve already waited so long; we can take our time.” He slid his hands further up (y/n)’s sides, under her shirt. “We don’t have to rush into anything. I can wait for you.” She felt his thumbs brush either side of her breasts.

She started trailing tiny kisses from his chin up along his jawline before touching the tip of her tongue to the lobe of his ear. “I don’t want to wait,” she purred.

“Oh, thank God,” he groaned before again pressing hungry lips to hers.

She responded without hesitation.

Her hands trailed down his chest and to his sides, her fingers playing over the ripples of his stomach. She brushed her knuckles against the start of his arousal and his breath hitched, cupped him through thin cotton.

He arched his pelvis against the heat of her palm and she heard a low, rumbling moan from the back of his throat. He tangled a hand in her hair, tugged gently. He bit down on the skin of her clavicle, sucked, soothed it with his tongue.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Shawn!” she scolded, playfully, chuckled, “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Good. Show everyone you’re mine. Mark you everywhere. But this,” he smirked, kissing the already purpling bloom, “will be the only one people can see.”

“Fuck,” she sighed. His claim on her made a shiver trickle up her spine.

“If you insist,” he grinned, smugly.

Feeling bold and sexy, she hooked a fingertip in the waistband of his pajama bottoms and starting walking backward. He stood to his full height and followed.

(Y/n) felt the backs of her legs hit the mattress. With fluid movement, she slid her shorts down, stepped out of them, and pulled her camisole up and over her head. She stood before him in small lace panties, breasts bare, nipples tight.

The way he looked upon her made her blood thrum, her body flush. He licked his lips, bit softly on the fuller, lower one.

His hand reached out and cupped one of her breasts. He gently tugged at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Instinctively, her hand slipped between her legs, at her core, and she rubbed herself through the damp lace. His nostrils flared when he caught the scent of her arousal. He whimpered, her name falling like a prayer from his lips.

“I wanna see you,” (y/n) purred.

Obeying, oh so eagerly, Shawn pushed his pants down, over his ass, off, his cock bouncing free, filling, curling up toward his stomach right before her eyes. He wrapped thumb and forefinger around the base, his other fingers pressed flush against his scrotum.

“Been thinking about me like this?” he hummed.

Yes. God, yes. Maybe one day she would tell him just how much. It was her turn to lick her lips and bite the lower one.

They fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and with a crash of lips. When they separated to catch their breath, (y/n) reached over to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Nuh-uh, Sugar,” Shawn rasped. “Waited too long for this.” Voice rough with desire he sang softly, “I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long... Darling, I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move...”

She might have giggled if her panties weren’t being drawn down over her hips, if calloused fingertips hadn’t begun to dance along soft, hot, electrified skin, lips and tongue following.

He took a dusky, peaked nipple into his mouth. Her back arched, hands grasping at the sheets at her sides, and moaned softly. He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, tasting, humming.

“Shawn,” she whined, moving a hand to tangle it in his dark curls, tugging him away from her breasts.

“Tell me what you want, Love.”

“I want you. I need you,” she pleaded.

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Shawn.”

“Mm... Since you asked so sweetly,” he smirked, stroking his cock. He rolled on a condom and moved to rest between her legs.

She reached between them, taking him in her hand, and he shuddered. She wanted to feel the moment he slid into her. He let her guide him. Their eyes met and held, bodies drew together, foreheads touched. She groaned with deep satisfaction into his mouth as she adjusted to his girth and length.

He wheezed, stilled as he bottomed out. She was so tight around him that if he began to move in that moment it would be over too soon.

“You okay there, Mendes?” she purred and imperceptibly tightened her legs around his waist.

“Oh God.” That tiny shift was almost too much. “You feel so good. Too good,” he mumbled. “I need a minute.” His arms on either side of her, holding his weight above her, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, centered on the scent of her skin as he salvaged control.

One hand again tangled in in his hair, the other stroked the skin of his upper back.

“Okayokay,” he mumbled, and he began to rock into her, slow... rhythmic... deep.

She gasped when the pebbled nubs of her breasts brushed against his taut nipples. Her whimpers and groans mingled with his rumbles and moans. She was torn between closing her eyes and wanting to watch his face as warmth and pleasure coursed through her.

He wanted her to climax before him. Wanted to watch her fall apart beneath him.

He knew she was nearly there when she began to ripple on the bed like a wave on the sea. The tide came all the way up; he was caught in the rush. And then the knot at the root of his cock dissolved in fire and he was falling fast, craving the feel of her so close to him, unsure where he ended and she began.

( FIN )

~ * ~

@theregoesmyherojd @benito-mi-vida @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @mendesblurb

[honeyhan-123]

The Monster In Plain Sight

Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants. 

Warnings: Non-con, Dark! Steve, Steve is a serial rapist, somnophilia, forced exhibitionism, breeding kink, use of the word Daddy. If any of these makes you uncomfortable please do not read. 

Word Count: 2.1k

AN: Ooop, I can’t believe I’m actually posting for the first time in nearly three months. Please be gentle <3

Also I would like to thank everyone on the dark group chat for encouraging me to keep on going with this idea. It didn’t quite turn out as dark as I thought it would but you guys gave me the incentive to keep on going so thank you <3

My Masterlist

He was hard. Achingly hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this, this desperate for release but he knew he had to take his time. He had to relish in every single second he could get. He doubted he would get another chance and so he had to make this one count. 

The sleeping pills he had slipped into your wine at dinner were obviously working as you barely twitched as he slid your bedroom door open. It had almost been too easy to get his way. All he had to do was move in next door and play his usual role. No one would ever suspect The Captain America of the sinful acts that he was about to do, that he had done numerous times. 

But even as he watched you sleep, he knew something about this time was different. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. Maybe it was because unlike his usual victims he had actually made contact with you. He had never been so bold before. Usually there was always a camera lens separating him from his victims. But not this time. Not with you. 

He slithered over to the vanity opposite your bed, setting up his tripod with hasty fingers. He double checked the view point, making sure that the entire bed was in frame. He knew he wouldn’t forget a moment of what was about to happen but still, he wanted the momentos. The physical reminders. He pulled the sheets back from your unconscious body and relished in the way your nipples hardened at once as they met the cool night air. 

It was only at times like this when he could stop acting. When he could truly be himself. For these brief hours he could be who he was, not who the world thought him to be. 

He slid one hand up underneath the silk nighty you wore and cupped your tit as his other hand dipped into his already open pants. It was a relief to feel the cool breeze on his hot pulsating length and even better when he grabbed one of your hands and wrapped your fingers around it. Slowly he moved your hand up and down, a low groan tumbling from his lips. Your dainty fingers felt amazing wrapped around him, far better than his own, but he longed for more. 

With a final tweak of your nipples, he let his hand slide town along your stomach and towards the lace that covered your mound. He cupped it through the scanty material, pushing the fabric into your lips as he felt you up. He couldn’t wait to be inside you, to have you wrapped around him like a vice. 

Getting you out of the nighty without jostling your body too much was a little difficult. Perhaps he should have cut it open, that would have fitted better with his plan should you awake. Ridding you of your panties was far easier and the sight that met him was beautiful. 

Sure he had camped out on your fire escape multiple times, watching as you dressed or prepared for a shower. But even then you had always been quick to recover yourself, as if you knew he was outside, watching with a hand wrapped around himself. Now however, he had you exactly as he wanted and he could take as long as he needed. 

Whipping out his phone, he made sure to capture all your best angles. He wanted your body to be immortalised forever so desperately that he even risked turning the flash on. He didn’t want to miss a single curve. When he felt as though he had enough pictures to last a lifetime, he moved onto stage two and trailed a hand up your calf. 

He kept his touch light for the most part until he reached in between your thighs. Steve couldn’t help the guttural sound that came out of his mouth as he parted your thighs, showing off the wetness that drenched your pussy lips. He had barely touched you and yet you were practically soaking the sheets. You must need it bad and who was he to refuse a woman in need? 

He wondered briefly what was going through your mind as he played with your slick. Were you dreaming of him? Of him doing these things to you? Of him making your body feel this way? 

He sure hoped so. 

He wanted you to know it was him. That he had crept in here after dark and filmed himself while he took you however he saw fit.

Deep down he knew he could never allow that to happen. That you could never know. It would be a PR nightmare and his days of taking whatever he wanted would be over. The only reconciliation in his mind was that if everything went according to plan, maybe this wouldn’t have to be a one off like all the others. Maybe he would purposely wake you up? He could make it seem like whoever had done those depraved things to your body had got away and it would only be natural that you would seek comfort with him, your supposed hero.

A melodic whimper filled his ears as he swirled a finger around your bundle of nerves, pulling him back into the moment. Even unconscious you were so reactive. So desperate. His nimble fingers faced no resistance as he pushed inside, swirling them along your inner walls. 

Steve doubted that you needed any more work up before he satisfied himself. You were just that needy. So without a moment's hesitation, he pulled his fingers from you and licked them clean. 

You tasted so sweet, just like he knew you would. A part of him wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay like that forever but the aching in his cock reminded him of why he was really here. He needed to fuck. 

It had been far too long since his last time, a month, maybe more. He had spent so much time following your every step that he hadn’t gotten the chance to find anyone to satiate his needs. Plus, the last time he had it had been a little disappointing if he was being honest with himself. He had cummed, multiple times but instead of the usual calmness and serenity that filled him after a session, he just felt hollow and empty. 

He had known it was because she wasn’t you. Her pleas for him to stop were wrong, far too shrill for your sweet voice. He ached to hear you plead with him to stop, to hear to cry out for help. His gut twisted in the best way just imagining it but he would have to content himself with just your body tonight. 

He crawled onto the bed, spreading your thighs with his hips as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused, just briefly to look over at the camera, giving his future self a devious smirk before casting his eyes back to your face. He didn’t want to miss any of your body’s reactions to him. 

He felt like he was coming home as he slid inside, forcing his entire length into your tight channel. Your warm velvet walls gripping him like a vice. It was nice. So nice that he just wanted to stay here, his cock buried deep inside of you for all of time. 

‘Fuck baby, you’re griping me so tight.’ He couldn’t help the words as they fell from his lips and he hoped that you would register them, at least subconsciously.  

Without any more hesitation he pulled back out, leaving just the tip before slamming all the way back home. Perhaps he wasn’t being as careful as he should have due to the circumstances but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just wanted to mark you as his and if you felt him in the morning, even better. 

His pace was punishing as he thrusted his hips wildly, his hands groping both your tits. He toyed with the pert buds as your walls fluttered around him, a soft and delicate moan falling from your lips. The sound made him grateful he had invested in the extra strength microphone for the camera. He didn’t want to miss a thing. 

‘You’re just so desperate aren’t you baby? You just need it so bad. Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna give it to you, just how you want it.’ He pushed your legs up, over his shoulders as he pushed even deeper inside of you. He could see the faint bulge of himself inside of you with every thrust and he imagined it going straight into your womb. The idea of his seed taking root inside of you did things to Steve that he had never known possible and suddenly he wanted it. He wanted it all.

He had always made sure to pull out because any child would be able to be traced back to him but the idea of you, round and full with his child… It was too good a vision to pass up. 

His cock throbbed in need. The need to feel your velvety walls squeeze him, the need to fill you to the brim. His hand dropped down to where your bodies were connected, finding your little bud with ease. He swirled his finger in your slick and relished in the corresponding moan that came out of your lips. 

‘C’mon baby, I know you wanna cum for me. I know you wanna be a good girl for me.’ His voice was throaty as he whispered into your ear, his ministrations on your clit never ceasing. He felt the familiar squeeze of velvety walls and he knew you were close. 

‘That’s it baby, be a good girl for Daddy. Cum for me baby. Cum on Daddy’s big thick cock.’ He knew his words had taken affect as almost immediately he felt the pulsating of your walls, gripping him tight as you came. The sound of your pleasure was almost drowned out by his own low groan. ‘Fuck baby, milking me so tight. Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum inside you, gonna fill you with my seed. You want that don’t you? You need it.’

Steve could barely control himself as he felt his balls pull up, his seed spilling inside of you in hot spurts. He allowed your legs to fall down his shoulders as he collapsed on top of you, trying to catch his breath. 

‘Fuck baby, that was so good, so fucking good.’ His words were slurred, his heart still racing inside his chest. He felt the familiar pull in his gut as he started to harden again and he was about to start taking you again when he heard a soft mumble get caught in your throat.

He froze, still completely encased in you, unsure of what to do. If you opened your eyes you would know immediately what had happened and he probably wouldn’t get a second chance without resorting to drastic measures. 

A moment passed, and then two and your eyes still remained firmly shut and Steve let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps he shouldn’t go for round two right now. There was always tomorrow night, and the next night and the next. He could hold back for now. 

Slowly he pulled his aching cock from you, watching in awe as a little of his cum seeped from your swollen lips. He gently scooped it up before pushing his fingers back inside. He didn’t want a drop to go to waste. 

He pulled the camera off the tripod and carried back to the bed, giving your body a loving once over with the lens before putting himself back into frame as he knelt by your head. ‘Y/N L/N, twenty-first of September. Rating, ten out of ten. I will be coming back for seconds.’ With one last pan down your body, focussing on your cum soaked lips, he started getting redressed. He hated to leave you, but he knew he must. You couldn’t know that it was him doing these sinful acts with you, not if he wanted more. 

He grabbed the notebook on your bedside table and turning to a new page he began to write with his non-dominant hand. 

Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.

He placed the note on your pillow and pushed his lips against yours, sweeping his tongue around your entire mouth and drinking in your taste. It was with extreme regret that he left, but he knew he would be seeing you in a couple of hours. He would make sure he was the first person to see you in the morning. He would hold you in his arms and comfort you as you asked him for help, and he would give it to you. 

And so much more. 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

Part Two

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Thanks for reading <3

[melancholyshadow]

a monday in new york city || b. barnes

one & two 

summary: another date with bucky, but this time its in new york city with some familar faces. 

pairing: bucky barnes x female!librarian!reader

warnings: some ANNOYING as cliches that i just love, swearing 

an: okay so i know its been a week, but hey i’ve been busy! this series is going to have one more part! and it’s going to be spicy, but that is gonna take awhile because it takes a lot for me to write spicy stuff. also, this series doesn’t take place in a specific part of the mcu timeline, i just pick the characters i want and throw them together. the next part of my steve series should be out soon, like within the next couple days! enjoy!!! <3

“You should meet me in New York City tomorrow.” 

You and Bucky were talking on the phone, no Facetime or Skype, because this man still had a flip phone. After knowing about his history, this did not surprise you. Funnily enough, you didn’t actually know he had a phone until about two weeks ago. You proceeded to laugh at him for about thirty minutes when he pulled out the phone. It had been almost three months since he walked into your library for the first time. And the two of you had spent nearly everyday together, of course, except for those days he was gone on ‘obligations.’ 

“Like a date?” You asked, rolling onto your stomach, and moving the phone from between your ear and shoulder and onto your pillow. You heard him chuckle, and your cheeks warmed up. “We could call it that.” It was a Sunday night, and tomorrow was a holiday so the library would be closed, and for once, you had a day off. And you were over the moon about spending it with Bucky. 

“What do you have in mind?” You said, propping your head up on the palms of your hands. “Well, before I ask you, promise me you won’t freak out.” This peaked your interest. “Well what is it?” You pushed, “Promise me, first.” He was being stubborn. “Fine.” You sighed. “Well, the Starks are throwing a party tomorrow night…” He started, The Starks..? Like Tony and Pepper Stark? “...for our little group and some S.H.I.E.L.D agents, and he said I had a plus one, so of course, I want to take you.”

You were speechless, and you could feel the nerves creeping up from your stomach, all the way up to your throat. “Hello?” He asked, making sure you were still there. “Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. Just processing.” You muttered, now completely sat up in your bed. There were a few more moments of silence, then you spoke. “So you want me to go to a party thrown by Tony and Pepper Stark, and not only that, but a Stark party that will be mostly all your superhero friends?” You asked more rhetorically than anything else. “Yes.” He said confidently, which for a moment made your nerves waiver, but only for a couple seconds. 

“If it’s any consolation, I really want you to come, and everyone really wants to meet you.” Everyone? Who is ‘everyone’..? Like the Avengers? They knew about you? Holy shit. You couldn’t think about that right now though. You broke it down in your head, trying to simplify it. Bucky really wanted you to go, and you really didn’t have a reason to say no, other than being very anxious about the whole thing. “You know what, sure.” You were finally able to get out the words. “Wait, really?” He asked excitedly. That made you feel good, that he was so excited for you to meet his friends. 

He gave you all the details, adding to the nerves creeping up your throat. “I’m gonna get some sleep.” Bucky muttered at around 11, which was late for him. “I probably should too.” You said with a yawn. “Goodnight, Doll.” He said in a raspy tone, followed by him yawning as well. “Goodnight, Buck.” You said sleepily, about to hang up the phone, but then he spoke again. “And doll, I promise you won’t regret saying yes.” And with that, the phone line went dead. 

It was a restless night, you tossed and turned for a couple hours, thinking about all the ways you could fuck up on this date. The last time you checked the clock it was just after one in the morning. When you did finally wake up, the sun was beaming straight into your bedroom. Warming up the room around you, you felt a thin layer of sweat covering your body, but that honestly could have been from the nerves. The first thing you did was grab your phone, and check if you had any text from Bucky, and you did. 

It was a simple ‘good morning, doll,’ the same text he’s sent you every morning since you guys traded phone numbers. You sent him a similar text back, and rubbed the remaining sleep from your eyes. After contemplating staying in bed for awhile longer, you decided against it and figured you could start the day, as it was already almost ten in the morning. 

After a warm shower, which consisted mostly of shaving and washing your hair, you decided to make a quick breakfast. While you ate, you contemplated on what to wear. Bucky said it was more on the fancier side. You had a couple ‘fancier’ options, but not a closet full. Breakfast was done and dishes were clean, so now it was time to try on all your options. By the end of you trying on almost everything in your closet, you decided to keep it simple but elegant. It was a black satin slip dress that fell right above your knee, and the shoes were a pop of color and definitely brought the outfit together. 

As you pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, you felt those same nerves creeping up the back of your throat. The lot was full of cars, but you were able to get a spot closer to the front. This party looked like a lot more than a ‘little group and some S.H.I.E.L.D agents.’ After sending Bucky an ‘I’m here’ text, you gathered your phone and some little extras into your clutch. While you did some last minute touches and repositioning of your hair in your rear-view mirror, there was a small knock on your driver-side window, making your entire body jump, head snapping towards the noise. 

Your eyes landed on Bucky, who was practically doubled over on laughter. After getting in a good laugh, he pulled open your door, giving you a hand to step out more smoothly, which you swatted away and rolled your eyes at him. Once he got a good look at you, his face shifted. The dress you wore accentuate parts of your body that your everyday clothes certainly did

not. And you were not the only one who noticed. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on your as you walked in front of him to navigate through some of the cars. 

Once there was enough room for both of you to walk side-by-side, you felt his metal hand slide along your lower back, coming to rest on your furthest hip. His fingers rested on your hip bone, with each step you took, his hand followed the curve, giving it a small squeeze. “You look amazing, doll.” He whispered into your ear, making a layer of goosebumps cover your arms. “So do you, Buck.”

You were glad you wore black, because of course, so did Bucky. He wore a black undershirt, with a black blazer with leather lapels, and of course black dress pants. The two of you looked like a pair, which you liked. The two of you approached the front door of the hotel, pulling his arm away from your body, making you feel empty. He whisked the door open for you, letting you walk in before him.

The lobby was pretty empty, just a receptionist and a couple security guards standing around. You could hear talking and laughter from behind a couple pairs of closed doors. You followed Bucky towards one of the security guards, who was standing in front of one of the sets of doors.  “She’s with me.” He explained, as the two of you approached him. Those words made you giddy, and you smiled at the man. “Alright, Sergeant Barnes.” The guard said, pushing the door open for both of you. 

“Oh, Sergeant Barnes, huh?” You joked, wrapping one of your arms around his metal bicep. He tensed up a bit, but then laughed, “I like the way you say that.” Then added a wink. You looked away from Bucky, and towards the crowded, very crowded, room. Bucky definitely underestimated the amount of people would be here, but it was a Stark party after all, so you weren’t surprised. Bucky and you walked towards the bar, taking a seat, which you were thankful for, your feet already killing you. 

The two of you spoke for awhile, sipping on your drinks. You weren’t sure why Bucky drank, since he physically could not get drunk. But if the drinks were free, you would be drinking too. “Hey Buck, there you are.” A man approached you two, placing a hand on Bucky’s back. Both of you turned your head, eyes landing on a familiar face. “You must be (Y/M/N).” He smiled, sticking a hand out for you to shake, so you did so. “Hello, Steve.” You matched his smile. 

After the three of you bantered back and forth for a few moments, Steve spoke again, “Well if you two want to join us, most of us are sitting on the other side of the bar.” He explained pointing to the side of the room. Following the direction of his fingers, you saw a group of some more familiar faces. You knew most of their faces from news articles, but knew their names from Buck’s stories. It was Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda. “Wanna go?” You heard Bucky ask you, placing a hand on your knee. “Of course!” You said, perking up. Going over there was the last thing you wanted to do, because you already knew this was going to be awkward. 

Steve led as Bucky followed him through the crowd, pulling you by your hand. Maneuvering through the people, ‘sorry’ and ‘excuse me’ passing your lips every so often. “I’m back…” Steve said, “...and I brought friends.” His use of the endearing term ‘friend,’ made you lighten up a bit. After some, not so awkward, introductions, they all started talking, and you happily listened. Your stories could never match up to any of theirs, so you didn’t even try. “Do you want another drink?” Bucky asked, noticing your empty glass. “Yeah, sure.” You smiled, he grabbed the glass out of your hands. He left your side, walking to meet the bartender who stood closer to the middle of the bar. 

“So (Y/M/N), has Bucky read every book in your library yet?” Natasha asked, but by the way she emphasized the ‘your’ in her sentence, you couldn’t tell if she was implying an innuendo, but you decided to keep it literal. “Ya’know, he actually tends to stick around the romance section, his favorites are the damsel in distress ones.” You joked, placing the back of your hand on your forehead, closing your eyes like you were fainting. This got a laugh out of the group, making a small bit of confidence grow inside you. “What’re you guys laughing at?” Bucky asked, placing the fresh drink in your hand. “Nothing.” You said, pretending to lock your lips, making the group laugh again.

After a few more drinks, you had stopped feeling so tense and started loosening up. You started talking with Natasha and Wanda, while Buck, still nearby, spoke with Steve and Bruce. The three of you were sharing some of your dating horror stories. That was until the DJ started playing some more upbeat music, Natasha immediately stopped and looked between you and Wanda.

“Do you guys wanna dance?” He asked hopefully, wrapping one of her hands around yours, and Wanda’s, wrist. “Sure!” You exclaimed, which made Wanda agree. The three of you left the bar, making your way to the large dance floor in the middle of the room. There were a good amount of people on the floor, and everyone was in their own worlds. It took you a while to get into it, but when the DJ played a song you knew all the words to, it was over.

The three of you danced in a circle together. You danced similarly to the day Bucky caught you dancing at the library. Eyes shifting from open to closed, hands running up and down your body, hips moving side to side, fingers running through your hair. You felt eyes on you, and you looked towards Bucky. He had a green beer bottle pressed to his lips, not sipping just sitting there, like he was frozen. His eyes followed every curve of your body as it moved. Knowing that he was watching you made you want to move even more, Natasha and Wanda matching your energy level. 

After saying all your goodbyes to everyone, and Natasha drunkenly inviting you to one of her and Wanda’s girls night, Bucky walked you to your car. “You really shouldn’t drive.” He insisted, grabbing the keys you had hanging around your finger. You definitely weren’t drunk, but more like buzzed. “I’m fine.” You insisted, leaning against the side of your car, trying to get any weight off your feet. 

“Stay the night with me.” He inisited, both hands resting on your hips, and his forehead resting on yours. You debated back and forth in your head, well the best you could in your buzzed state. “Fine.” You said, trying to sound reluctant, but you were the opposite, but he couldn’t know that. “But, I need to leave by 7:30 tomorrow morning!” 

The drive was short, no longer than five minutes. “Now don’t make fun of me, as you know, I don’t spend very much time here.” Bucky explained, hand resting on the doorknob of his front door. “Oh shut up, I’m sure it’s fine.” You laughed, placing your hand on his and turning the doorknob. He stepped in first, flipping on the light switch. Your eyes scanned over the viewable part of the apartment,”I was right, you just need to do some major decorating.” 

Bucky walked off as you practically ripped your shoes off your feet, sighing in relief. Leaving the foyer and stepping into the living room, you searched for Bucky and he was standing in the kitchen. So you snuck up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hi.” You mumbled, eyes fluttering closed and cheek pressed against his back. “Hey, doll.” He muttered back. 

You felt Bucky raise both his arms, and you heard some shifting, so you assumed he was searching for something in his cabinet. You heard what sounded like a pill bottle, and he shook some of them out into his hand. “Here take these.” He grabbed one of your hands, placing two small, circular pills in your hand. It was some form of Advil, you could tell by the familiar red color. 

Pulling away from him, you placed the pills into your mouth and he handed you a glass of water. “Thanks.” You said, taking a gulp of the water. “But I’m not gonna be hungover.” You insisted, placing the glass into his sink. You could tell he didn’t believe you, but he just smiled.  “Let’s go get you some comfier clothes.” 

“These are not gonna fit.” You called from the other side of the bathroom door. Bucky had given you a shirt and some red flannel pajama pants. The shirt was fine, you wore big shirts quite frequently, but no matter how tight you pulled the drawstring, the pants fell down to your thighs.  You peaked your head out from behind the door, and Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed. “The shirt is pretty long on me, is it weird if I just don’t wear pants?” You asked him. He shrugged, “I don’t think so, as long as you’re comfortable.” He smiled. You opened the door all the way, and handed him the red pants, and he tossed them on the opposite side of the bed. 

“Well, It’s almost one in the morning, you should get some sleep.” He stood up from the bed and walked towards his closet,“You can have my bed, and I’ll sleep out here.” He pulled out a pillow and a sheet from his closet. “What, don’t wanna sleep with me, Buck? I see how it is.” You giggled, acting like you were upset, and rolling your eyes. 

“No-no, I-Buck, I’m kidding.” You cut him off, laughing at his sudden awkwardness. “I didn’t want to assume.” He finally muttered out. “I guess I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.” Continuing your joke, and slipping under the comforter. Engulfed by the smell of Bucky, which added another level of comfort. He pulled open the dresser once again, grabbing a shirt and some pajama pants, leaving you to go change in the bathroom. 

You scrolled on your phone, setting multiple alarms to make sure you woke up on time tomorrow morning, then placing it on the bedside table. Letting your eyes fall closed, you turned so that your back was towards the bathroom door. Without opening your eyes, you heard the bathroom door open, and then the lights flickered off. 

There was some quiet shuffling and you felt the bed dip beside you. Your eyes reluctantly opened, and you were greeted by the sight of Bucky’s back. Without thinking, you placed your hand on the arm that wasn’t tucked under his body, pulling at it softly. He rolled inward, now facing you. There was a sleepy smile on his face, and he blinked slowly, desperately trying to keep his eyes open. You placed a hand on his face, thumb softly running over the stubble on his cheek. His eyes finally shut, face full of content, the corners of his lips still upturned. Wiggling closer to him, “If we cuddled a little bit, I won’t tell if you don’t.” You said, letting some excess air out of your nose, as a laugh. “I know we aren’t dating, but…” Your voice trailing off.

“Yeah, about that…”

[thesmokingguns]

Wedding Season

Tommy

-Welcome to the Wedding Date expert

-Getting ready together and he matches his bow tie to your dress

-“Can you help me?” Helping him tie his bow tie and he uses the moment where you’re so close that he can kiss you

-Well you’re finishing getting ready he makes sure the car is out front.

-“Wow, babe, you’re going to make the bride jealous”

-Double checking to make sure that you have the gift and adding more money to the card

- Hes so excited to go to this wedding together and have a good time celebrating people

-Hes going to talk about all his favorite parts of the ceremony and things that he enjoys or would want in the future

“I love love”

-He is a wedding guest expert. He seems to know all the wedding coordinators and people working the event

-“Hey Sherry, another beautiful event!”

-He brings you a glass of champagne during cocktail hour and wants to talk about the vows

-“I don’t want to get married in a church. Maybe a cool Japanese garden or on the beach. I’d write my vows too. None of that obey shit. What do you think, babe?”

-He tips the band at cocktail hour and drags you out, making you laugh as you dance

-Introduces you to all his friends

-“I can’t wait to see you in a white dress”

-He is slamming his silverware against the glass to have the couple kiss all night

-Tommy will wander off to talk to someone so he’s not by your side all night but he waves at you and sends smiles your way

-He comes up with a plan so you catch the bouquet and he gets the garter

-“Throw some elbows of you have to”

-He breaks a chair jumping off it to catch the garter and almost lands on some guys.

-He offers to pick you up and give you extra height so you catch the bouquet

-“THATS MY FUCKING GIRL!” he’s amped that you caught the bouquet

-He thinks he’s going to something so sexy putting the garter on you but as he gets a view at what would be your underwear he sees you’re not wearing any.

-“Babe!”

-Laughing because you knew exactly what was going to happen as he slides the garter on you in front of his family. He’s blushing and it’s both cute and hysterical how flustered he is

-Tommy putting his jacket over your shoulders as you head up to the hotel room after

-“We should get married this summer”

-You’ve been dating for two months and it’s March

Vince

-Imagine that you’ve just spent two hours getting yourself fully ready and you’re about to leave for a wedding and down the stairs comes your man child boyfriend fully dressed in a three piece tuxedo complete with a top hat alll in white

-“What do you think?”

-He does a spin, pulls the lapels of his jacket and is smiling proud of his outfit.

-Dragging him to his room to change into a new suit

-Pouty Princess in the passenger seat of the car as you drive to the wedding

-Trying to reassures him that when it’s his wedding he can wear a white suit

-“You’ll let me wear white to our wedding?”

-He’s so sincere when he says it’s so he is holding your hand you agree even though it’s been over four years and he hasn’t really showed any interest in settling down

-Vince will talk shit about everything that he doesn’t like

-He keeps referring to “our” wedding

-he takes full advantage of the open bar and he just is getting hammered

-“I think I want pink and white roses. Like a whole fucking garden of them.”

-Having to tell him to stop talking about a fake wedding at a real wedding

-Pouty Princess gets really mad and goes to pout at the bar

-He gets up on stage and starts singing because he hates the live band

-Coaxing him off stage promising that you’ll dance with him

-“I want to go home. This club sucks.”

-Just reminding him that you’re at a wedding for your close friends

-Vince goes outside and you spend twenty minutes looking for him. You follow the sound of someone puking and find him wiping his mouth

-“they gave me the cheap stuff, honey. it’s not my fault.”

-He won’t be dragged out of the garden easily and you’re fucking horrified when he gets down on one knee at a wedding

-“Honey, I love you so much. I’ve been trying all week to figure out the best place to do this-“

-he suddenly is patting his suit and realizes that he changed before they left

-“We need to go home.” He’s standing up and you want to die of embarrassment as he’s dragging you through the wedding where a few of these people just saw him on one knee

-Anxious leg bouncing in the car, window down because he might puke again

-He’s falling up the stairs when he gets home ripping apart his white suit.

-Running down the stairs he finds you and gets down on one knee again

-“I have the ring this time.”

-Hes kind of a huge idiot but you like that he has a plan. Also you’re worried because you’re going to marry bridezilla

Mick

-If it wasn’t one of his bandmates weddings he wouldn’t be going

-If he wasn’t in the wedding party there is no way that he would wear a suit

-When he is waiting with one of the bridesmaids he’s paired with hands him her flask

-“I’m trying to stay sober to keep everyone in check”

-She scoffs and he turns to see her chugging it down before giving him another chance go to take it., which he does downing the rest of it.

-Trying to make sure all the guys are doing the right thing and keep everyone alive

-Taking pictures he finds out that the mystery bridesmaid is the brides best friend from childhood

-“I’m going to the bar.”

-He decides he needs to just have sex with someone at the wedding as a reward for actually coming here

-Looking at the wedding guests and wondering if he’s going to be alone forever

-Thinking about what a waste weddings are and how they should have saved their money

-Knows that bride shouldn’t be in pure white

-The flowers make him sneeze

-The bridesmaid is at the end of the bar and he is suddenly handed a drink she has bought him. He watches as she cheers the airs downing the three fingers of white alcohol in one sip before walking away.

-“Oh no you fucking don’t.”

-He is trying to find this girl who keeps showing up with alcohol

-Mick keeps loosing his clothes. His jacket is lost, his vest is unbuttoned and the bow tie is untied

-“Fucking Women”

- he spots her headed into the elevator and frowns when it closes. When it reopens he sees red lipstick kisses around 7

-“If she put her mouth on that...”

-He’s slamming the lucky number 7 as fast as he can

-When the door open he sees a shoe and a few paces away another one.

-As he’s walking and sees her dress and her underwear is hanging on the doorknob

-“Women like this is why I’m never getting married”

-He opens the door and he’s glad he made it go the wedding

Nikki

-“Angel, you’re going to make us late!”

-He is indiffernt about going to weddings. One part of him likes socializing and seeing people and the other part of him hated leaving the house

-Checking his watch and getting ready to go through you over his shoulder so they could leave

-When he sees her coming down the stairs he doesn’t want to go to the wedding anymore and he lets her know

-Nikki kind of is a huge show off so we plans on pulling up in this Porsche

-He wants to spend the entire time with his lady

-Even as they sit through the vows he’s reaching out running his hand over your hands

-Leaning over to whisper, “This reminds us of our wedding.”

-kissing your knuckles

-Always touching you and seeming almost anxious whenever of you steps away

-Hand on your back when you’re talking to other people, holding your hands when you’re walking and just a weakling his arms around to kiss as much as possible

-“I’m so happy you’ll always be my wedding date, Angel.”

-Checking in throughout the night to make sure that you’re okay and having a good time

-“excuse me, I’m going to steal her for this song”

-Has requested your wedding song and is slow dancing telling you all the reasons that he loves you

-Nikki loves holding you when you dance even if he hates dancing

-Taking you out to cool down and walk along the beach together

-He throws down his jacket sitting on it and pulling you into his lap

-He had literally scoped out a place where you two could make out or go further

-“you looked so beautiful, Angel. I couldn’t wait until we got home”

-Going back to everyone at the party and he’s just giving you this look the whole time like he can’t get you out of his mind

-Nikki talks to the groom about what makes marriage so great

-“You wake up to the most beautiful view every morning no matter where in the world you are”

-Being at the wedding just reminds him how happy he is to be married

-Watching his wife dancing with the girls and smiling at how she always has fun

-When Nikki’s at the bar with the guys he sees you bent down talking to the flower girl and starts thinking of you as a mother

-Nikki knows it will be a few years away because he can’t share you yet

-Smiling when you slide into his lap, holding you to him and knowing you’re going to leave soon

-“I love you.”

-Wedding season is the best for this sentimental gummy bear

[sunnysviolin]

Sometimes, when sunny visits kels house for a sleepover, (or just anyones house except for basils) the host would always wake up to:

A missing sunny (who is most likely in some weird ass place like the roof)

A sunny that it staring at you from the foot of the bed or beside it

A sunny that stares from the doorway (he stares alot)

Or

A sunny that is playing bo en my time at an unreasonable hour but at a reasonable volume (or vise versa)

Alright so a different nonnie also sent me “How many times do you think sunny scares people by staring at them from the foot of the bed / beside them when they wake up?” So I’m....combining these two XD Also if you guys like....resend things can you say they’re a resend LOL bc if I have another Cho double take situation I’m going to backflip into the sun. Also don’t resend more than twice (i’m gonna be putting that in my bio bc....yeah don’t do it makes me anxious D:)

Okay mini housekeeping thing aside! This got long it’s under a read more because it’s long, but it’s full of shenanigans, sleepovers, and our local fave cryptid Sunny

I’m going to focus this in on post-canon, because I think that Sunny’s ultimate cryptid energy flows forth in his teen years. Also I really want to include the hooligans in on this (I’m...love them)

So pre-canon Sunny and Mari’s house was the go to location for their group of six. They were almost always there, but there was some unspoken rules.

You called before you came over (Only Kel didn’t follow this rule, but he always knocked and waited patiently at the door) and you had to be invited to stay for dinner. If not you went home when Sunny’s mom called a fifteen minute warning before dinner. There was also no arguing within the house. If there was an issue that needed to be addressed, Mari and Sunny’s parents would immediately send everyone home.

Post-canon Mari is gone and the house has been sold. Hero and Kel’s house becomes the go to hang out house after that. Their house is nearly night and day to Mari and Sunny’s

Mari and Sunny’s house was always neat and tidy and very quiet. Their parents generally left the TV off and didn’t use the radio, so unless one of the two children were making noise, everything would be silent. Kel and Hero’s house is in constant motion and activity. Sally is usually either babbling or screaming, music is always playing on the radio, and their main form of communication is friendly yelling at one another. Kel and Hero’s house also has an open door policy- anyone can walk in at anytime and they all know where the spare keys are hidden.

Post-canon I see a quick friendship building between Aubrey’s gang and Basil Sunny and Kel. Hero enjoys them all, but it’s not really his scene now that he’s spent a year or so at college. He will get brought along for some adventures, and he’s always up for hanging around the house with them, but when it gets to be a bigger group he prefers to just let them have fun.

When it’s just his four kids, Hero is always a part of the group though.

OKAY ALL OF THAT BUILDUP ASIDE LETS GET TO THE ACTUAL POINT OF THIS ASK

So this is when school is in session and Hero is back at college. Kel tells Aubrey that Sunny is coming up for the long weekend, and they should all do a sleepover at his house like old times. She agrees and they arrange it with Basil. Kim overhears their plans and she has FOMO so she arranges herself to be there when they tell Basil

Normally Kel makes it a point to try and include Aubrey’s friends (who are slowly just becoming friends) but this time he just pretends she isn’t there and tells Basil to come right after school and they can drive together to get Sunny.

Kim weedles it out of Aubrey later that day when they’re alone in gym class. The reason that they didn’t immediately invite her and the others? Sunny is apparently weird at night

Kim fires back that Sunny is always a little weird, but Aubrey is being fully serious. Unfortunately all that does is make Kim more curious. She goes to find Kel afterward and half asks/half demands an invitation to the sleepover. Kel seems a little awkward about her involving herself, but he agrees that she and the others can join in if they like.

Aubrey and the others arrive

Kim soon finds out that Aubrey was 100% right. Sunny is...weird at night.

At around 10:00 pm, Sunny disappears. Basila nd Aubrey went into the kitchen to make popcorn, and Kel was busy fiddling with the TV to get the movie to start. When he turns back to the couch, he asks where Sunny is. They realize Sunny has vanished.

Aubrey and Basil come in with the bowls of snacks, and Kel asks them if they’ve seen Sunny. Basil says to check the roof.

The roof. The hooligans all laugh (Basil is a sweet kid when you get to know him, but his nerves make even his jokes strange) The other three don’t laugh. In fact Kel gets up and goes to the door.

The hooligans follow out bewildered, and Sunny is o n t h e r o o f. CASUALLY. JUST THERE PETTING AN ORANGE CAT WHO IS LOUNGING PURRING NEXT TO HIM. AND KEL AND AUBREY AND BASIL DONT REACT??? Kel just waves?? and Sunny waves back???

“We’re gonna watch Insidious now, I know you haven’t seen that one before. Wanna come in?” “Kay” “Do you want to bring your cat in with you? I’ll put Hector on his leash” “Yes please”

Then the three just walk back and tell the hooligans to follow them in. Sunny got himself up so Sunny can get himself down.

It’s only the beginning of the madness. Sunny walks in holding the still purring orange cat and settles himself down in his specific corner of the couch (They were prewarned not to sit in Sunny’s spot) Aubrey cuts Kim off before she can ask about the roof, and starts the movie. Kim looks over at the cat, and it locks eyes on her, hissing.

The movie begins and Sunny will randomly speak but only to say when a character is going to die/be scared. Right before it happens. Every single time. Didn’t Kel say before that he hadn’t seen this movie?? It doesn’t matter Sunny keeps going

A ghost. A ghost. Lost in an alternate dimension by shamanic journey. It’s bizarre. The cat continues to purr a rusty old engine noise in Sunny’s lap, periodically looking at one of the hooligans and hissing, choosing a different one every time. Who’s cat is that????

They finish the movie and start to play board games. They pick monopoly and decide to divvy up into teams. Kim immediately claims Aubrey, Vance decides to go with Kel and Kel grabs Mikhael to create a trio. Charlie and Sunny silently sit beside each other, and everyone assumes that makes them a team. Angel pulls Basil to his side and they’re prepped to play the game.

Kim likes to consider herself a pretty good monopoly player, and Aubrey is a whiz with money and numbers, so she assumes they have this in the bag.

She did not account for the Sunny factor.

Sunny stares her down through the entire time. Kim is sure he doesn’t blink. She forgets to bid on auctions for properties and gives him extra rent money. They go bankrupt first, and Sunny turns his eye onto Kel who just laughs and gives Sunny finger guns. Sunny finger guns back (his face still a blank slate) and proceeds to also take all of Kel’s money.

They go to bed shortly after, and Kim is relieved. Nothing also weird can happen. Now she just has to sleep.

She wakes up in the middle of the night and adjust her position, turning over to face the other side of teh room. Four shining eyes stare back at her, catching the dim light from the kitchen. Kim shakily grabs her phone and turns on the flashlight, whirling around to see Sunny staring at her, his orange cat on top of his head.

She wakes all the rest of them with her shriek of terror. The group of four quickly settle to sleep once more, even Sunny crashing down next to Aubrey and Basil. hissing cat caught firmly in his arms.

She and the other hooligans stay up for a bit, frantically whispering about the oddness of the situation. They resolve to leave early in the morning, and to distance themselves as much as they can from...whatever Sunny is. They’re certainly glad he doesn’t go to their school anymore.

The next morning, the group of four wake up before the hooligans and cook a big breakfast. They put the phone on speaker and chat with Hero as they do so, catching up on his latest college stories. Bo en is playing from the cd player in the corner of the kitchen, kept low so as not to wake the others.

The hooligans creep downstairs and peer inside. The scene is shockingly...normal.

Sunny is still carrying his cat, but now Kel is feeding it tiny bits of bacon and it is stretching out of Sunny’s arms to reach the next delicious morsel. He’s chatting with Hero over the phone, speaking in full long sentences which is a rarity for Sunny. He even laughs quietly at a joke Hero tells.

Kim tries to translate the horror she felt last night into this morning, but it’s not there. Sunny doesn’t seem like an eldritch horror during the day. Just another teenager happy to be with people he enjoys.

Hero hangs up shortly after, and the group of four settle back into a placid silence. Aubrey breaks it by turning to the others

“I know it was weird, but I’m glad that they came for last night.” the three boys agree, and Sunny leans against the counter near Aubrey so she can scratch one hand under his cat’s neck while still flipping pancakes. When he speaks, his voice is near silent, but they all hear it anyway.

“They’re nice. They didn’t treat me different.”

The hooligans share a look and simultaneously agree to stay for breakfast.

[kalimagik]

Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine​ - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

-

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

-

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

[smutandfluffohmy]

His Sweater #2

From: Smutandfluffohmy Pairings: George Weasley X Slytherin!Reader A/N: The time-line of events is altered for story telling purposes, something that will be very obvious if people want me to continue on with the story. I think this is the closest to slow burn I’ve gotten to in my entire fanfic career. Hope y’all can understand because asgyv my brain would rot if I tried to line it up with canon completely.

Read Part 1 here

I have no wand, no socks and I’m wearing a Gryffindors sweater. This could go south terribly fast and I’m hoping for any other cardinal direction. If all else fails I could always throw a punch and run to my bed.For the second time that morning I almost crashed into someone. Seriously an entire hallway but we are still walking on the same side.

Draco stared at me from my face to the sweater, I wish he would notice my bunny slippers too. I also wished he would’ve seen me earlier in my utter Slytherin colors pride.

“Interesting sweater y/l/n” Draco said breaking the silence, scrunching his eyebrows at me. I could feel the Slytherin pride sermon bubbling inside of him.

“Interesting ingredients Malfoy” I answered back. Ingredients to make draught of peace, I’m surprised he had the ingredients, I’m surprised he was nervous and I’m surprised he was going to do it with unkempt hair.

“This didn’t happen and we didn't see each other.” He stiffened, straightening his back the glass containers clinking together.

“Brilliant as always.” I smiled, nodding at him and he doing the same. I’m sure if someone was looking at us right now we looked comical with our overly formal head nods. Starting to walk past each other, both of us going to our destination and trying not to think much about the other on our walk there.

Me, George’s sweater and my bunny slippers were home free, all we had to do is get back to the dorms without bumping into anyone else. But I don't know if it’s my seniority over the kid or perhaps as Snape’s potions assistant I felt responsible or even because I was just worried that made me turn around “Draco.” I called out to him.

He stopped, turning to face me “Y/n.”

Perhaps I should tell him that it’s 7 drops of hellebore not 8, or maybe that it’s supposed to be stirred both counter and clock wise or how it has to simmer for exactly 7 minutes. “If it’s not silver don't drink it.” Was all I could say and by far the best advice I could give him.

“Dully noted.” He said giving me a tight lipped smile, almost forced as if I was forcing him to give me a smile. “Thanks.” he muttered underneath his breath, his tightlipped smile softening at the edges.

The walk back to the dorms was no longer nor shorter than the walk from. Tho I was a bit warmer on both the inside and the outside all thanks to George. Climbing the stairs down to the common room I felt tired and heavy.

I want to sleep.I wish I could sleep but I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I must just wake up to having found out this was all but a fleeting dream. Nothing more but a hot chocolate induced fever dream. 

Slipping off my slippers I walked to the edge of the carpet. Curling my toes I wondered if the shock of the coldness would wake me up, still I had to know. Stepping on the cold floor I didn’t wake up nor did I bolt up in bed.The cold floor lets me know that this was real, I was truly awake. But I don't think one knows the true lengths the mind would go to to make up a dream.

Tiptoeing into my dorm I changed into my clothes for the day, taking extra care to fold George’s sweater in a way that both said ‘I took care of it for you’ and ‘I didn’t spend half an hour overthinking this’. Perhaps I was putting too much pressure on folding techniques but I wasn’t about to be exposed by the way sleeves folded over. Getting my school bag ready I laid everything out on the bed.

“Potions.Herbology.Alchemy” I said touching each textbook, books I’ve carried around a hundred times.But I was afraid my lack of sleep would magically turn my Herbology book into a history of magic and I wouldn’t realize till I was standing in Professor Sprouts class.

I spent all of breakfast looking for George but there was absolutely no sign of him. Every time I thought I spotted his hair from across the dinning hall it was just Ron, twice it was just Ginny and once even an overly toasted plate of hash browns.

My first class was to help Snape. A couple of over brewed potions helped keep me on my toes and for that I was grateful.

Second was alchemy.Where nothing particularly interesting happened and had me periodically sticking my hand in my bag just to double,triple, quadruple check that George’s jumper didn’t grow legs and run away.

Third was Herbology. The class I was waiting for, finally a class with Gryffindors that the Weasley twins were in. Walking a bit too quickly and a bit too excitedly to class I wasn’t the first to get there.I blame it on the ever moving stairs. Professor Sprouts lesson dragged on too long for my liking or maybe it was the fact that I was drilling holes at the back that George’s head that made it all drag on.

“Mind the Mandrakes children.” Professor Sprout said with a wave of her hand leaving us to work. Perhaps it was age that made you think of anyone younger than you as children, but we were all very grown up thank you very much.

Leaning over the table I whispered “Psst George.”. No movement.

“George” I called out a bit louder but again no efforts to look back at me. Blimey perhaps it was just how tall he was that he couldn’t hear me from up there or maybe he was just that hard of hearing.

“Bloody hell Weasley I’m calling you.” I called out again poking him with my wand, surely he wasn't hard of hearing and touch desensitized enough to ignore me. Reaching closer in an attempt to tug at his robes my wand fell to the ground as a shrill screech filled the class.

“What?Sorry can’t hear anything over the Mandrake” George said turning to face me, shrugging his shoulders with the screaming Mandrake in his hands. Surely he wasn’t that much of an idiot to pull a Mandrake out of the pot and surely I wasn’t that much of an idiot to be smitten by the smile he flashed me when he did it.

Finally I ended my day just like it began. In Snape’s classroom, only now it was my class messing up potions not first years.

I wonder if it was something I said. Perhaps the carrot comment was too out of hand or maybe they bumped into Draco or maybe he was a bit crossed because he was in fact cold. Am I thinking too much into it? Did he see my sweater fold and thought it was too messy?

Before I knew it potions was dismissed and I still had George Weasleys sweater in my bag. Getting ready for the game my mind still wandered too far for me to get it back, putting on far too many Slytherin colors for it not to be comical. The Slytherin common room buzzed with anticipation and excitement with people laying one the floor writing banners for friends and people writing friends and crushes quidditch number on banners and faces and arms. 

Sitting on the stands with the game dragging on, I put my cold hands inside the neatly folded sweater that was hidden inside my robes. I wonder if there was a time limit? A countdown? Were we even half way through?Admittedly I don't know a bloody thing about Quidditch just like I didn’t know a bloody thing about another sport. 

Anticipation filled me, wondering when if at all out spirit section was going to mirror that of Gryffindor. Seconds felt eternal and I started to worry that they had been caught in the act. 

Before I could continue tormenting myself the colors around me changed from green and silver to reds and golds. 

Pansy Parkinson that was seated just behind me looked down to her robes horrified they’ve been turned. I almost felt bad for her and nearly reached over to tell her that red was unfortunately her color. The look on her face when her ‘Go Draco’ banner had been hexed to read ‘Go Harry’ was something you expected when someone tells you you’ve just stepped on hippogriff poo. 

Snape looked crossed at the entire Gryffindor house and even Godric Gryffindor  as if he himself planned this all out from beyond the grave to give Salazar Slytherin a last jab. I almost felt guilty looking at the face of my professor, a fleeting guilt but nonetheless guilt. Shouts around me cheering on Slytherin were abruptly replace with cheers for Gryffindor. 

Smiling looking up at the players my eyes darted around for a glimpse of George or even Fred, but they all looked the same in their uniform. 

“Go George!” I yelled over the loud burst of ‘Go Gryffindor’s that surrounded me.

“Go Fred!” I yelled out for good measure, adding it as to not make him feel left out tho I doubt they could hear me over all the commotion. But nevertheless I would know even if they didn’t.

The game came to an end as Harry reached up with the snitch grasped firmly in his hand. Grunts filled the Slytherin area, cursing at their changed clothes, cursed horns and now quidditch loss. I don’t know why everyone is upset this always happens at Gryffindor and Slytherin games, in fact at this point it seemed like a poorly written Quidditch plot. The fact that Harry always caught the snitch, if I didn't know any better I would have to say Harry and the golden snitch had a pact going on.

Around me people didn’t move instead they cursed and jabbed fingers at the Gryffindor tower. They must be really be crossed at Gryffindor to be standing around complaining under snow, or maybe their sheer hatred was keeping them warm. Getting up to leave because I wasn't neither cross nor warm to be standing around.

“Where are you going?” Christy asked me stopping her conversation over the horrid color combination Gryffindor had as if ours were any better.

“I need to go to the restroom. Besides I’m too cold to be standing here complaining.” I said walking away and she promptly went back to her conversation.

Walking down the Slytherin section, I made my way to the Gryffindor Quidditch player section. Somewhere I was highly banned from being in because I was neither a Gryffindor nor a quidditch player.

“I nearly fell off my broom hearing Slytherin chant for us.” Someone who I assumed was Harry said between laughter. A smile spread on my face thrilled I did in fact contribute to a great Weasley prank.

“Having them cheer for us was bloody brilliant! That had to be your best one yet!” Ron beamed at his brothers. Brilliant I got a stamp of approval not only from Harry Potter but from the small Weasley as well.

“Yea an awfully brilliant addition.” I said stepping into view.

The room felt silent and for I moment I wondered for what reason.They’ve just won shouldn't they be happy? So why do they have such long faces. Forgetting and simultaneously remembering that I in fact was that very reason, the walking Slytherin banner for the second time that day leaving people uncomfortable. Even without the silver and green perhaps something about me just reeked of Slytherin.

“You shouldn’t be in here Slytherin.” Ron said standing up to face me.The words held so much anger my mind wondered to see if I had ever caused any misfortune to the younger Weasley.

“I-I-I” My brain forgot all words or perhaps it had forgotten the ability to form any excuses. I didn’t expect a warm welcome but definitely not this much hostility.

“Going to tell Snape on us?” Harry said quirking his eyebrow at me, great I had the look of not only a Slytherin but a snitch as well. Perhaps it was the hair.

“Oi hold on that’s no way to talk to the lady of the hour.” George called out stepping from putting away his broom and jogging to stand next to me. A arm rested around my shoulder, I wonder how much of my red face I could blame on the snow.

Fred made his way to my other side, placing his hand on top of my head. “While it pains me to admit. Y/n was the one that came up with the horn bit.” He said ruffling my hair, George shifting the slightest bit closer to me. The amount of attention was too much for me and the bizarre looks on Harry and Rons face was enough to make me want to test my luck with the unforgiving blizzard forming outside. “Tho I do think I could've come up with it if I had some time.” Fred shrugged.

“Sure she did” Ron scoffed looking between his brothers to me.

“Cross my heart.” Fred said crossing his heart. 

“Then I take back my compliment.” Ron said, the brotherly hatred he had for his brother far outweighing any sort of imaginary feud he had going on with me.

“Can't do that it’s already gone to my head.” Fred shrugged earning a laugh from Harry and comments on how they had to start out sourcing their pranks now from Ron.

George lead me just outside as the conversation inside kept building with Fred insisting that it was his genius that rubbed off on me, as if I would let him rub anything near me.

“Who was it in the hallway by the way?” George whispered leaning against the door frame. The hall was too cold and I had to inch forward towards George to step just out of the cold winds reach.

I shrugged “Oh it was just Draco.” I said having to look up to meet George’s eyes, I wish I was a bit taller or that he didn’t hover over me as much as he did.

His face turning into disgust just for a split second at the mention of his name “Just Draco?”

Was it Slytherin or Draco that had this effect on people? Somehow I know he would be a nuisance  regardless of his house. “He’s not that bad.He could ease up on the hair dye but he’s actually pretty decent.” I said mindlessly but truthfully.  “Don’t tell him I said that.” I shook my head looking up at George already visualizing just how much bigger Draco’s head would get if he knew I thought he was anything above horrid.

“Blimey I don’t think I could hold it in, it might slip out during our daily conversation” George said laughing. I wonder if I could bottle up that laugh or if I could make him laugh again just enough to commit it to memory.

“What? Draco not conversing with people outside of Slytherin? This is so unlike him I must check to see if he is feeling well.” I said faking worry for the sometimes socially awkward Slytherin. 

 “I came by to give you back your sweater.” I said holding it out towards him. Perhaps this was the end of our short lived friendship, perhaps after this we will go back to hardly speaking and perhaps I will go back to staring at him longingly during Herbology.

“You should come celebrate with us.” George said completely ignoring his sweater, the way he danced around it made me wonder if I actually offered him his sweater or if my mind was playing tricks on me.

“A Slytherin? At a Gryffindor party? Oh but George what would the neighbors think?” I laughed clutching the front of my robes.

George laughed “I’ll take care of them, I’ve been told I’m quite scary.” he said. I wondered who told him such a lie or if he was even capable of being even remotely scary.

Shaking my head I tried my best not to sound too disappointed “Thank you but I suspect I’m going to have to help mend an entire teams egos.” I said offering him his sweater once more.

“Keep it.” He said pushing it towards me, his voice too soft and too gentle that I wondered if a stray quidditch ball didn’t knock me out mid game and I was now living out one of those muggle romance movies.

“Bu-”

“My arms hurt from all the bludger tossing, don’t think I could carry it all the way back.” He shrugged, I wonder how tired ones arms had to be not to be able to carry a sweater back.Maybe if I played Quidditch I would’ve understood. “Just give it back to me later.”

“George hurry up we need to start celebrating!” Fred shouted sticking his head out the door looking at his brother, I wonder if his arms were equally as tired. “You coming?” Fred said looking down at me, shaking my head I wished I could accept.

“ ‘fraid not gotta go and hear my entire house moan about Gryffindors all night.” Shrugging, I could already heard Pansys moans and feel Dracos side eye of disapproval. I wonder if they were moping around the Slytherin common room in Gryffindor robes or they were so extremely crossed that they figured out a way to un hexed the robes.

“Should’ve gotten sorted into Gryffindor instead.” George said earnestly, I wondered how different this day would've played out if I was sorted into Gryffindor my first year. Perhaps Ron and Harry wouldn't be that cross with me or perhaps they would’ve gotten something else to not like about me.

“I’ll make sure to send my complains to the sorting hat.” 

Fred pointed his finger at me “We got an end of year plan we’re going to need your opinion on.” he said smiling.

“See you later then?” George asked but I wish he would’ve stated, a promise sounded more hopeful than a question.

“I’ll keep an eye out.” I nodded seeing them walk away, deciding to wait a bit before I walked out. I suspect hateful tensions for Gryffindors from Slytherins are at an all time high right now and I truly don't want to get hexed in a weather like this.

“Bloody brilliant that one, wish I would've given her my sweater. Think she’ll take my jersey?” Fred said in a failed attempt at a whisper, something told me Fred Weasley was a terrible whisperer.  “Oi Y/N you still cold?” He called out towards me with his arms raised, waving them around as if I couldn't see the only other people in the hall.

“Shut up!” George said clapping his hands forcing Fred to keep walking.

“What I can’t worry about a girl’s warmth levels?” Fred said playfully shoving George.

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Four

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Peter Parker, Steve Rogers, various characters in other chapters

Warnings: language, making out

Chapter Summary: You go on a short trip to Massachusetts to see Peter, Bucky takes you on a second date, someone gets caught doing something they shouldn’t.

Author’s Note: This was going to be a filler but it has a decent amount of necessary plot and progression. The next part will have a time jump so I don’t have to include a bunch of filler chapters, blehk. Let me know if you see my Avatar: The Last Airbender reference in here! And as always, you’re welcome to send me a coffee!

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Tags: @kennedywxlsh @ursmolbunny @devilswaldorf

By the time Monday rolled around, you were thankful Bucky had training in the morning or you would’ve never gone to sleep. Most of the deeper subjects had been touched on when you were together on Saturday, so Sunday was just texting more playful banter and fun facts you hadn’t learned during your lab hangouts, but you two still talked until your phone was propped up on your pillow waiting for another message while you drifted in and out of sleep.

Bucky had sent you a sweet “good morning, doll” text for you to wake up to, but you didn’t talk much before you had to head to work and he had to work out with Steve. That’s the downside to waking up with just enough time to get ready. Not much wiggle room for distractions, no matter how delicious.

You had barely settled in to your workspace, specs for Sam’s wings pulled up in front of you, when you had a request for a FaceTime call from Peter, of all people. You hadn’t seen him in a few weeks since he went back to campus, but he was set to come back soon for a weekend.

“Hey Peter, what’s up?” you answered.

“Hey [Y/N]! I, uh, I kind of have a big favor to ask,” he said with a forced chuckle.

“Oh… okay? What’s going on?”

“Well, you remember that project you wanted my help on?” You nodded. “Well I talked to my professor about it and he said I can use it as my final project for this semester as long as you come to the proposal and document what you did on it so I don’t take credit for any of your work. If you don’t want to, that’s totally fine! I can probably work on another project, I just don’t want to put your project off and make you wait for me to finish my part —“

“Peter!” you shouted, cutting off his rambling with a laugh. “I think that sounds great. It’ll be nice for you to kill two birds with one stone. When would I need to be there?”

“Uhh,” he started with another forced laugh. “My proposal is Wednesday.”

You stared at the screen, motionless at his response. “Wednesday. Like, two days from now, Wednesday?” Peter nodded. You could practically see him sweating through the phone, worrying about whether or not he should’ve asked his professor sooner or just completely avoided the subject entirely. But you knew he probably didn’t have much heads-up and considered using your project a little late in the game. “It’s a good thing I like you, kid. Let me double check with the boss but I’m sure that’ll be fine.”

“Yes! You’re the best!” Peter cheered.

“I’ll text you when my flight leaves because there’s no way I’m driving ten hours.”

You and Peter briefly went over how things would work, from what you should wear to whether you’d be getting a hotel room or bunking on his futon. While you were talking, you emailed your dad about the trip and got a quick approval. Tony liked Peter, and you understood why. He reminded you of your father if your dad had a stutter instead of an ego.

Mid-afternoon, when you took your second 20-minute break of the day just to let your brain relax, there was a soft tap on the door of your lab before Bucky poked his head in. He stepped in and looked around the whole room frantically before he noticed you curled up under a blanket on the giant bean bag chair you shoved into the corner once Peter left. You liked being able to take your breaks in the quiet of the lab so your brain could actually shut down for a few minutes.

“Oh, hey,” Bucky said with a smile.

“Hey Buck,” you replied, mirroring his smile. “How’s your day?”

“Pretty good,” he said with a sigh. “Just bored so I thought I’d see what you were up to.”

“Just taking a break,” you shrugged. “But you’re more than welcome to sit with me while I work. I won’t interact much because I lose focus easily but you can hang out.”

“As appealing as that is,” he started as he walked closer to you in your bean bag chair, “I know I’d start asking questions and I don’t want to distract you.”

You stood from your spot as he got closer and smirked up at him. “You are pretty distracting.” He stopped when he was toe-to-toe with you. “It’s a good thing my breaks are made for distraction.”

He smiled down at you as his warm hand curled around the back of your neck and pulled you into him for a kiss, your own hands looping through his belt and pulling his body closer to yours.

You practically melted into him, feeling as if you couldn’t get closer no matter how hard you tried. Even him slipping his thigh between your legs didn’t feel close enough. Then the weight of his metal hand fell to your waist as his tongue entered your mouth. It was all reminiscent of your first kiss just a couple days before.

Except outside your apartment, you didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

“Hey [Y/N], have you—“ You and Bucky quickly pulled apart at the sound of a new voice coming from the doorway and you immediately started to panic.

“—seen Bucky,” Steve ended with a sigh. The door quietly clicked shut behind him as he stepped in. “So you two…?”

“Have been on a date,” you said, walking toward Steve with your hands held out. “Steve, please don’t tell anyone, especially Tony.”

“You kind of owe me one, punk,” Bucky said as he walked closer, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I never ratted you out for lying on, what, five different enlistment papers?”

Steve huffed at this, clearly stuck between following the rules or letting others break rules that were much more harmless than his past rule breaking.

“You know this is gonna come out eventually, right? You won’t be able to hide this — and whatever this becomes — forever,” Steve warned.

“We know,” you said solemnly, “but it’s nice to just have this for now, you know?” You looked over at Bucky, who was leaning against the lab table looking back at you, his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Just… be careful,” Steve said as he started to leave. “If you don’t lock the door, at least ask Friday to alert you if someone is coming this way.”

“You know, I don’t care what people say about you, Steve. You’re pretty smart.” Steve initially smiled but then let out a short ‘hey!’ as you pushed him the rest of the way out.

“That was close,” you said, turning back to Bucky.

“But at least we have a pretty influential Avenger on our side, if we ever get outed,” Bucky said. Too bad he didn’t know the approval of everyone on earth would mean nothing to your dad — and both of your boss.

“Well, that little debacle kind of wasted the rest of my break,” you pouted, stepping up to Bucky.

“Can I take you out again?”

“I’d like that a lot,” you smiled. “Oh! I’m leaving for Massachusetts tomorrow and coming back on Thursday and have my family thing on Friday so will Saturday work?”

“Massachusetts?” Bucky asked, clearly missing the rest of your statement.

“Yeah, I’m helping Peter with a project so his prof wants me to be there to answer questions while he proposes his project. It’ll just be Wednesday, but Tony let me have tomorrow and Thursday off for travel so I’m taking my time.”

“That sounds…” Bucky started. “Uhh… I gotta be honest, that sounds unbearably boring,” he laughed, making you giggle with him. “But good luck to you and Peter. I’ll see you Saturday?”

•

The trip to Massachusetts was short but boring, and you were relieved to see Peter’s car when you stepped outside. Your hotel was right down the road from his dorm, so you dropped your stuff off before heading to his room to go over the proposal.

Even though you had only spent a few weeks working with Peter, he had grown to be like a brother to you. Spending so much time every day with no one else to talk to can really help people bond. Your dad’s adoration for the kid definitely helped, too. You wouldn’t be surprised if your dad eventually brought Peter along to family dinner.

“So I have to do most of the work, but you’ll need to explain why we’re doing this and what you’ll be doing,” Peter said after reviewing his speech.

“Okay, I can manage that.”

Peter was quiet for a second before saying, “Do you… maybe wanna go over what you’ll say…?”

“Oh, sure! Sorry, public speaking is a big thing in my family so I just figured I’d wing it.”

“Please don’t,” Peter said quietly, his eyes going wide right as the words left his mouth. “I don’t mean that in a bad way! I just mean, this proposal is important to me so I want it to go as smoothly and well-planned as possible.”

“Okay, you be your professor.”

Peter cleared his throat and said, “Miss [Y/L/N], what prompted you to start this project with Mr. Parker? And what role will you play in its growth?”

“Well, Dr. Kramer, I recently received a promotion within Stark Industries to work with the Avengers on their weaponry. This work included the vibranium arm on the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. One thing I noticed early on was the lack of sensory receptors within the arm. That observation, along with a similar request from Mr, Barnes, prompted me to look into ways to change this. Mr. Parker has an internship with Mr. Stark so, considering our different areas of study, I sought out his help. With my knowledge and expertise on the mechanical side of things, Mr. Parker will primarily be working on the more biological side of things. Once he finds a way to connect new receptors to the spinal column through the current nerve channels, I’ll be able to create millions of micro-receptors that will need to essentially be surgically embedded in the vibranium. I already have the blueprints for this process; I’m more than willing to share those documents with you, though it is confidential and I would need you to sign an NDA for safety reasons.”

Peter stood in the middle of his room, speechless.

“I told you it runs in my family,” you laughed. “Now pick your jaw up off the floor. I’m hungry.”

The next day, Peter and you breezed through the proposal. Peter didn’t even stutter during his speech! But his classmates did bombard you with questions that the professor quickly shut down. You and Peter spent the rest of the day catching up. He introduced you to his girlfriend Michelle and his friends Ned and Flash. By the time you got back to your hotel that night, you were exhausted — and thankful for an afternoon flight.

The next morning, you got breakfast with Peter before his class and finished packing to fly back to New York. You were once again grateful for an afternoon flight because by the time you got back, you didn’t have time to get back to work. So you took the evening off and treated yourself to a bath, some wine, and your favorite Netflix series — and texting Bucky, of course.

Family dinner that week was much easier than the previous week. Your dad mainly asked about your project with Peter, only briefly touching on Bucky’s involvement. At least until your phone buzzed on the table. It was a rule that phones stay face-up on the table at dinner and any messages get read aloud. So when you saw “James 🐻” pop up, heat rushed to your face. You managed to snatch your phone before your dad could, but you still had to read it out loud to the table.

“Uh,” you nervously cleared your throat. “So, James said ‘I have an idea for our date tomorrow, but I would need full reign over your kitchen for a while.’” You sent the table a tight-lipped smile as you locked your phone and set it down again, waiting for someone to say something.

“You’re going out with this James again?” your dad asked.

“Yes,” you said plainly. “I like him, dad. A lot.”

“And you’re already inviting him over?”

“Dad, stop. I’m a grown woman; I can make my own decisions.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m just saying… well, don’t you want to get to know him better first? Make sure he doesn’t want to wear your skin?”

“Ew, shut up,” you laughed. “I’ve done plenty of research into him; he’s a good guy.” Your dad still looked skeptical, so you pulled out your puppy dog eyes. “Please trust me on this.”

Tony huffed and shook his head. “Okay, fine. He’s a good guy. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. And don’t do anything I would do either.” You rolled your eyes at him but managed to divert the conversation by asking Happy and Pepper what Tony’s limit really meant.

•

The next day at 3:30 on the dot, you got a call to your house phone by the front door. It was unusual, especially since you hadn’t ordered any food. The doorman usually brought food up, but called if they were working alone. And you knew they weren’t working alone, considering how early it was. Still in your sweats and a t-shirt since Bucky wasn’t coming over until 4, you answered the phone with a simple “hey.”

“Hello Miss [Y/L/N],” you recognized the doorman Matt’s voice, “there’s a James at the front door for you?”

“Oh, okay, shit,” you said, whispering the last word to yourself. “Go ahead and send him up.”

“Would you like to grant him regular access to your residence?” Matt was always so formal, probably because you pushed for your dad to hire him and he knew he had to keep this gig. His background check showed he came from a low-income family and really wanted to turn that around. He knew he owed you and because of that, he was always grateful and sweet.

“Yes please. Thanks, Matt!”

With that, you hung up and sprinted to your room, knowing Bucky only had a 20 second elevator ride before he got to the sixth floor. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t have time to scramble for new clothes before there was a knock at your door. You grumbled as you ran back to the front door and greeted Bucky.

“Hi,” you said, half out of breath from your scurrying.

“Hey,” he smiled back. “I’m glad we chose the same style today.”

You gave him an admittedly generous once-over and realized his gray sweats and black tee matched yours, though your shirt did have an NYU logo on it.

“Oh thank god,” you nearly cackled. “I was panicking because I thought I should dress nice but you were early so I didn’t have time but I didn’t want to get ready too early so I wasn’t —“

“Hey [Y/N]?” Bucky interrupted. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, shit, yeah.” You stepped aside and let him kick his shoes off in the entryway. That’s when you noticed all the grocery bags in his hands. “Uhh, whatcha got there?”

“I said I’d need your kitchen, right?” he smiled, sending a wink your way as he started setting up. “I’m gonna cook you some authentic Romanian dishes ma used to make back in the ‘30s.”

“Ohh, sounds yummy. Can I help?”

“If you want to eat any of it, you better help,” Bucky joked.

“Let me grab a couple aprons so our fancy attire doesn’t get dirty.” In the hallway closet, you had about a dozen aprons Happy got for you. You said you needed some aprons once and suddenly you were getting new aprons for every gift-giving holiday. You appreciated it, though. Every time Happy saw an apron he thought you’d like, he bought it. And you, in return, bought him every oven mitt you thought he would like after he accidentally burned his hand making green bean casserole one year for Thanksgiving.

You grabbed the “Queen of the Cat-chen” apron covered in cats for yourself and for Bucky, the “I’ll feed all you fuckers” apron your dad thought was hilarious on your last birthday.

“Sorry I don’t have any matching chef hats,” you joked as you handed Bucky his apron.

For the next three hours, you followed all Bucky’s instructions and watched as he did his part of the work, chatting while things cooked and finally relaxing once everything was plated. You each had a decent amount of food debris on your aprons, making you thankful you both wore them. You led Bucky into the living room where you sat on the floor between your couch and the coffee table.

“You know the couch is made for sitting, right?” Bucky asked as he slowly sat behind you, one leg on either side of your body.

“Yeah, but it’s more fun to sit on the floor, especially when I’m eating.” You turned your head to face him as you continued, “I get too sleepy if I’m on the couch too long.”

He chuckled at your confession but didn’t argue. You both ate in comfortable silence, the only sound coming from the hum of traffic six floors down and the TV quietly playing a crackling fire YouTube video.

“Can you finish this for me?” you asked as Bucky set his empty plate on the coffee table.

“I’m full, doll.”

“Bucky, please? I can’t finish it,” you whines, pouting up at him.

“Then just put it away with the leftovers and eat it later,” he shrugged.

“But I’m so bad at eating leftovers,” you groaned.

“Then I’ll put it away and eat the leftovers,” he conceded. He snatched the plate from you and headed to your kitchen to pack it all away.

By the time he made it back, you were snuggled under a blanket on the couch with “What’s Your Number?” pulled up on the TV.

“I hope you’re okay with watching my favorite movie,” you smiled, making sure to flutter your eyelashes extra hard so he couldn’t say no.

“I haven’t seen this one yet so sure,” he said with a shrug.

He yanked the blanket off your body and unfolded it so he could bring you under his right arm and cover both of you with the thick fabric. Ever since Monday in the lab, he’s been more affectionate. He stopped by on Friday and kissed you at least half a dozen times before he left, then earlier while you were cooking, it was like he had to hold your hips every time he watched over your shoulder, and he chose to end the night holding you into his side and… oh, you were a goner once his fingers started lightly tracing shapes on your bare arm.

And he had to have known you were weak, if the way he angled his body toward you was any indication. You loved the movie you had picked out and really did want to watch it… but when you looked up at Bucky and saw his gaze meet yours, you knew the movie was going to be long forgotten.

His lips pressed to yours firmly, like he wanted to make sure you remembered what he felt like. You quickly let things escalate by gripping his hair and pulling him with you and you laid back on the couch. Your legs fell open as he slid right between them, his left arm propped on the cushion to keep himself from crushing you and his right slipping under your shirt to hold your waist. When his tongue passed your lips, you couldn’t help but whimper at the feeling of him taking control. His hand never moved past your waist, just occasionally squeezing as he pressed his body against yours.

The rest of the night was spent alternating between making out, talking while you were chest to chest on the couch, and making out some more until you fell asleep against his chest.

•

The next morning, you woke up to the blaring sound of a ringtone... that wasn’t your ringtone. And you were on your couch? The sleepy haze quickly wore off when you felt Bucky’s body shift behind you to reach over and grab his phone.

“What?” he answered grumpily, though your body’s initial reaction was to how deep and gravelly his voice was in the morning. Fuck.

With how close you two were and how quiet it was with the TV off, you managed to barely make out what was being said on the other end of the line.

“Where are you?” It was Steve. “You were supposed to be at the group breakfast this morning but you weren’t in your room so I told Tony you weren’t feeling well.”

“Oh, fuck,” Bucky groaned. Now that sound sent all your senses into overdrive. “I fell asleep at [Y/N]’s last night.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured,” Steve replied, clearly exasperated. “Look, just stop by a convenience store and grab some medicine so when you get back, no one questions it. You snuck out when no one saw, that’s the story.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll head out soon.” Once they hung up, you rolled over on the couch to face Bucky.

“Good morning,” you said with a sleepy grin.

“Good morning,” he replied, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m sure you heard but I’ve gotta head out before Tony gets suspicious.”

“Okay. Text me when you get back?”

Bucky stood from the couch, and you followed suit behind him as he put his sneakers and jacket on.

“I’ll text you on my whole trip back,” he smiled. “Looks like you might have to bring those leftovers with you tomorrow. I don’t know that I can sneak them back today.”

You practically skipped to join him at the door, your hands going to rest on his chest before he could leave.

“Should we just designate Saturdays as our date nights?” you asked.

“Who said you get another date?” Bucky joked back.

“Excuse me?” you gasped in mock offense. “Next time I get to choose what we do and I’m not letting you take that away from me.”

Bucky chuckled at your little outburst but pressed another kiss to your lips as a peace offering.

“Next Saturday, your pick,” he smirked.

“It’s a date.”

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[bookishofalder]

Pretty Girl

Pairing - Flip Zimmerman X Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, swearing, smoking, crime, (eventual) smut, racism (no slurs), sexism, general views/language of the time. 

A/N: Well, here’s the prologue to the multi-chapter fic I’m working on! I hope you enjoy, feedback welcome and appreciated, especially if you notice any over-description of the reader! This is a female reader based fic.

Flip Zimmerman sauntered into the Colorado Springs police department early Monday morning, his black hair in need of a trim, a bit of a shadow darkening his unshaven face. He’d had the previous week off, after wrapping up the Klan investigation with Jimmy and Ron. The chief had insisted they each take some time, and Flip ended up taking the whole week, though he knew his partner opted to simply take a day, and Ron only a few more than that. 

But Flip had needed the break-the case had exhausted him. It had drained him mentally to pretend to be one of the Klan, to agree with their views and utter slurs as if they rolled naturally off of his tongue. No, he had felt each moment with them chip away a little at his soul. So he took the time off; went fishing, watched television, did some work on his home, and spent some time with his family, who rarely got to see him. He didn’t live far from his parents, but with the hours he took on, it had been hard to visit often. They understood, but Flip knew his mother wished he would settle down, start a family of his own. She hated that he came home to an empty house, with no warm meal ready and waiting. Flip didn’t mind it so much, he was too busy at work to notice the void.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Flip wasn’t at his desk for more than twenty minutes before Jimmy came in, all smiles for Flip’s reappearance.

“Flip, welcome back kid.” Clapping his shoulder, Jimmy sank into his chair and fixed Flip with a knowing stare from across their desks. Flip frowned, wondering what had his friend in a chipper mood early on a Monday morning.

“Jimmy, the fuck are you staring at?” Flip grumbled though the threat in his voice was laced with affection for the man he’d called 'partner' for years now. 

More detectives and office workers began to filter in, coffees in hand, all greeting Flip with casual ease before they settled in and began their workdays. 

Jimmy shook his head, “Nothing, just glad to see your miserable face back, it’s been an interesting week.” The mischievous glint in his eyes said otherwise. 

Flip didn’t look up at Jimmy’s words, merely smirking in response. He noticed then a neat stack of files on the left-hand side of his desk. When he grabbed the first, curious, he saw it was a case file of his, only it had been organized, and some of the sections of the report had been filled out for him. He stared a moment, shocked, before glancing up at Jimmy-whole was, annoyingly, still watching Flip.

He held up the file, “You do this, Jimmy?” 

But he was shaking his head before Flip finished speaking, “Nah don’t like you enough.” He didn’t elaborate and Flip was too stubborn to press the issue. Whatever. 

Flip glanced at the other files and saw they were the same. Someone had taken his paperwork, organized it and fill in the sections that were mostly clerical information, before returning them to his desk for him to finalize and submit. He had come in early specifically to finish off these files, and now his two-hour backlog was reduced to maybe thirty minutes of work. Impressed, and grateful, he began to work through the stack with his notes. He wasn’t going to say it out loud, but the gesture-wherever it came from-was more than welcome. Paperwork was the least appealing part of this job.

At nine, the station was buzzing with activity normal for weekdays. Ron had greeted Flip warmly when he came in, advising him that Sergeant Trapp wanted to see them in his office in an hour, before moving to his desk and checking his messages. And while it felt like any other day in Colorado Springs, Flip, ever the detective, noticed the moment the atmosphere in the bullpen shifted. Every man in the room seemed far too damn chipper. 

He glanced up from proofreading his work to find many of his colleagues glancing toward the glass wall and doorway that led to the hallway, beyond which and out of sight, was the front lobby and administration desk. 

After a few moments, Flip turned his chair to face Ron, whose desk was behind his own, only to see his friend doing the same thing. He frowned, “The hell is everyone in a tizzy for, Rookie?”

Ron grinned, “Chief hired a new secretary for the front desk-“

“What, Donna finally got herself a helper?” Flip cut in, referring to the homely but overworked secretary that had been asking for a second in command for years, during which team the operation of the division had nearly doubled.

“Yep,” Ron nodded, “And Donna already looks like it’s made a world of difference for her, but wait until you meet, she’s incredible. Nicest lady I’ve ever met.” 

Flip rolled his eyes at this proclamation and spun back around, stacking his files together. He was glad to hear Donna had the help she needed now, it was a long time coming and would certainly make a difference for the entire station. Donna was like the mother hen, taking care of everything from coffee to endless paperwork, dealing with the public that came in, and everything else they could throw at her. She never complained, but always made the point of saying things would happen quicker if she were two people. He wondered what it would be like to have another Donna type woman in the office, but intended on giving it no further thought.

That is until he heard the distinct click of heels coming down the hallway, and glanced up, half interested, at the sound. 

He did a double-take when he saw her and felt himself freeze. Stunned into stillness, Flip immediately felt that Ron using the term ‘incredible’ to describe the new secretary was entirely understating this woman. Everyone’s heads in the room turned her way, and it wasn’t just anyone who could unknowingly conjure up that kind of reaction.

Dressed in a fashionably smart secretary dress, which was a shade of dark blue that perfectly accentuated her skin, the woman was breathtaking. Curvy, with long (Y/H/C) spilling down her back in soft waves, she wore kitten heels that gave her a small amount of extra height, yet she was still short. She walked with an air of peaceful grace, carrying a large basket in her arms. But it was her smile, dazzling and genuine, that captured his attention.

Flip had to shake his head slightly, dragging his eyes away from the beautiful creature dancing into the bullpen. He refocused on his files, hoping to look busy, all the while straining his ears to hear her speak.

“Happy Monday, boys.” She sang, and a chorus of good mornings and hello’s filled the air, “I hope you like banana bread because I’ve got two fresh loaves here, one plain and one with chocolate chips-Jimmy, I made that for you.” And Flip looked up in surprise in time to see her wink at Jimmy, who gave an appreciative laugh, then thanked her. 

She had set the basket down next to the water station, where there was a small foldout table set up. Sure enough, she pulled out two loaves of bread, already cut and laid out in smaller basket trays for them. She made quick work of setting out the loaves, plates and napkins before reaching into the basket, pulling something out she had wrapped in sandwich paper, and spinning around toward Flip.

He dropped his gaze before she noticed him, now making work of organizing his desk-why the hell was he suddenly so nervous? From behind him, Flip heard Ron give a small groan, “Tell me you didn’t.” But he sounded delighted.

“Ron, of course I did, don’t be so silly, it’s nothing.” This captured Flip’s attention entirely, and he gave up the pretence of tidying his desk to turn around and see what she had passed him. Inside the wrap was a slice of pineapple upside-down cake. Ron pinched a piece off with his fingers and tried it, giving an appreciative nod.

“That’s just like I remember, thank you.” He noticed Flip watching with a frown and grinned, “Oh, now, you two haven’t met yet, Flip’s just come back from vacation.” He clapped his hands together. 

Flip looked away from Ron and met the (y/e/c) eyes of the young woman standing a few feet away, who wasn’t much taller standing than Flip was seated. She reacted first, though Flip did notice her eyes widen slightly before she stepped forward, all smiles.

“Detective Zimmerman, it’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m (Y/F/N).” She stuck her hand out. Flip automatically grasped it, noticing how entirely tiny her hand was in his own. 

He tried to smile, “It’s nice to meet you, miss. Please, call me Flip.” She smiled at his words and Flip suddenly felt like his brain might be needing a jump start, as it was the prettiest smile he’d ever had directed at him. He felt warm and craved a cigarette. Or a cold shower. 

“Well, Flip, only if you call me (y/n).” 

Ron had watched the entire exchange with a shit-eating grin on his face, “(Y/N) here is an amazing baker, in addition to her many other skills that Donna can’t stop raving about, so before you know it, Zimmerman, you’ll be sporting a few extra pounds.” 

(Y/N) giggled. Truly giggled, and Flip found himself surveying her, trying to decide how old she was. She carried herself with a confidence and ease that seemed mature, yet she did appear youthful in many ways. “It’s what I’m known for, leaving heavyset men behind me everywhere I go.” She held up her hands, as if in defence of herself. 

Flip snorted, “And you take special requests?” He asked, nodding at the cake on Rons' desk.

“Oh, well that was actually what I baked for Sunday supper for my sister and me,” She leaned against Ron’s desk, her hands neatly folded in front of her, “And when I told Ron here what I was planning, he asked for a slice because I make it like his aunt used to.” She shrugged, giving Ron a friendly smile.

“It tastes exactly like hers, (Y/N), you’re the best.” 

“You two seem awfully, uh, close.” Flip remarked, and while Ron seemed unfazed and unbothered by the comment, he noticed that (Y/N) seemed to flinch slightly at the words, her smile disappearing. 

Flip knew he was a gruff, grumpy son of a bitch, but he was also always like that, and no one ever seemed to care. Now though, the tone and accusation that she might have assumed from his observation seemed to hit a nerve, and her demeanour shifted, embarrassed.

“Oh, yes, well Ron’s been a gem, being pretty new here himself. He’s helped show me the ropes,” She murmured, “I should get back to it-nice to meet you, Detective.” And she hurried away, still taking time to greet those she passed, before disappearing down the hall.

“Man, Zimmerman, you have a way with the ladies.” Ron deadpanned, shaking his head at Flip, who was staring toward the hallway feeling both annoyed and guilty. He glared at Ron, who was shaking his head, a hand clapped dramatically to his face, “A real Romeo.”

“Fuck off, Rookie,” He growled. A thought jumped at him then, “Wait, is she the one who did all this-‘ He gestured at his files ‘While I was off?”

Ron rolled his eyes now, “Of course she did-she helps everyone stay on top of paperwork. When I told her you were off last week, she made a point of getting you all caught up.” Again, Flip stared down the hall, his mind working. 

He just wasn’t very good at socializing, or making friends. He was gruff and sarcastic and his sheer size usually kept others at a distance. He had a hard time knowing the right thing to say, especially to someone as pretty and kind as (Y/N). He hadn’t thought his words would come out the way they did, sounding accusatory, and he wished he could take them back. 

- 

Over an hour later, Flip was still replaying the interaction in his mind, over and over. When he, Ron and Jimmy re-emerged from Sarge’s office, new assignments in hand, he had come to a decision. He had never been one to simply leave something unaddressed, not if it bothered him. And while he was certainly terrible at socializing, he would never stand for himself to be ungentlemanly. First impressions were important, and he intended to correct this one.

While Ron and Jimmy continued toward the bullpen, Flip turned right and stomped down the hallway, entirely missing his friends exchange a knowing look behind his back. As he approached the front desk, his eyes peeled looking for her (y/h/c) hair, he was surprised to notice how tidy and welcoming it now looked. 

(Y/N) had made quick work of reorganizing and decorating, which was probably why Donna was nowhere to be found, no doubt in the files room making work of the backlog she’d been complaining about for years. Flip figured she must be in the best mood of her life. 

The reception was empty, however, and Flip wondered where (Y/N) must be. He continued to march forward, considering if he should look around for her, or wait at the desk, when a door on his left, which led to the bathrooms, opened. Before Flip could stop, she was suddenly hurrying out of the doorway and slammed directly into his side, gasping in surprise.

Flip had just managed to turn his body slightly toward her before they collided, allowing his arms to shoot out and large hands to grab her shoulders as she bounced off of him and fell backwards. Steadying her, he peered, “Damn it, darling, I’m sorry-are you alright?” 

She was wide-eyed, her head tilted back to meet his eyes. He released her, taking a polite half step back. “I’m fine, goodness, I should apologize, I ran out of there like a bat out of hell.” Her hands moved to her waist, where her dress tie sat, and began to redo the knot absentmindedly. 

Flip raised a brow, “Something scare ya?” When her face flushed at his words, his eyes drank in the sight, heart rate speeding somewhat. He watching her curiously.

“I, um,” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly as if attempting to find the strength to speak, “It’s silly, I was washing my hands and noticed a big spider and I really, really hate spiders-I live alone and I can never kill them easily, I always get the broom so I can stay far back, so I thought I’d run out here and find a broom-“ Abruptly, she stopped speaking when Flip began to laugh, and after a moment of uncertainty, a smile spread across her face-dazzling white teeth on display.

“I can kill it for ya’, no need to resort to desperate measures,” He joked, happy to see his words cause her to giggle slightly, “But do me a favour?” He added, his expression becoming serious. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him curiously, “What’s that, detective?”

Flip took a breath, “Accept my apology, for earlier,” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, “I’m a grumpy S-O-B and my words came out harsher than I intended, I only meant to tease. I’m sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair nervously as he spoke.

She seemed to consider his words for a moment, crossing her arms across her chest, a small smile on her pretty lips. Flip kept his eyes on her face, not wanting to be disrespectful by ogling her, but it was impossible not to notice the way her bust pressed out when her arms wrapped under them. He needed a cigarette. And probably a proper smack around the head. 

“Of course I accept, detective,” (Y/N) was smiling properly now, “Jimmy warned me you were a mean lumberjack-his word, not mine. I just-“ She paused, “Worried I’d given the wrong impression, is all. I’ve got a good work ethic and don’t want anyone thinking I’m silly or chatty over hardworking.” 

Flip was surprised at how serious her tone turned, her words heavy with concern. “You organized all my files for me, while I was off?” 

“Yes-why?” 

Flip laughed, “Darling, that knocked two hours of painful catch-up off my plate and we hadn’t even met before, I can already tell you’re impressive, so if anyone here ever tries to question that, you send them to me.” He huffed, glancing at the bathroom door, “I’ll go kill that monster in there for you.” 

She had flushed again at his words, something that sent a jolt of electricity through his core. Flip realized he was well and truly fucked for this woman, and he’d only known her an hour.

“Wait,” He paused at the door to the bathrooms, glancing back. She was giving him her best little grin now, “Thank you, Flip.” 

He merely nodded, before stepping through the doorway to kill the damned spider.

Although, he thought, maybe he should thank it instead.

Chapter 1

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

[ateezmakemeweep]

richboy!yeosang (part 2)

word count: 5k

fluff, smut (tw: mentions of abortion)

(part 1) (miniseries masterlist)

“did you just puke again?”

you look up at yunho from your spot on the couch, bags under your extremely unamused eyes as you nod your head lazily. 

you warned him not to come over in the first place today, that you didn’t wanna get him or mingi sick since you’ve spent the past few days still vomiting and feeling like shit.

but he insisted, not wanting you to spend the day alone and cooking for yourself when you didn’t feel your best. 

yeosang had stayed home with you for two days but had to get back to his classes, you all but forcing him out of bed in the early morning hours this week. 

“yes,” you whine, a pout on your face as he smooths down your messy hair. “which is why you shouldn’t be here!” 

he only rolls his eyes as he fixes the blanket over you, claiming he’s immune to all illness before tucking you in like a child and going off to the kitchen to check on the soup he’s making. 

you let out a sigh as you hear yunho humming softly, sprawling out on the couch and stretching your aching bones. you thought for sure you had some sort of stomach flu, a slight fever and vomiting along with just pain all over.

but it’s been almost a full week now of waking up and feeling like this, irritation starting to settle in because it feels like you’re never gonna get better.

it makes it even more frustrating that, in the mid-afternoon and nighttime, it seems as if you’re getting better, just for everything to start all over again.

“that’s odd,” yunho hums softly when you tell him that, carrying your bowl of soup and a package of crackers that makes you hold back a smile. 

he side-eyes you when he sees your lips twitching, flicking your head gently and gesturing at the food he just cooked for you. 

“have you gone to the doctor?”

“you know they freak me out,” you mutter, slurping the soup and humming when the warm broth hits your tongue; if there’s one thing you learned about yunho over these college years, it’s that he’s a great cook. 

“this is good.”

“thanks,” he smiles softly, watching closely as you slurp down the broth.

this is a meal he makes for mingi every time the boy isn’t feeling well and, while he knows his boyfriend is secretly wimpier than you, he always looks more...sickly. 

pale and sleepy and barely able to lift the spoon into his mouth; but then again, it could be his fiancé being a baby and wanting to be doted on.

“that made me feel better,” you smile happily, getting up from the couch slowly to wash your bowl and spoon before yunho can. 

the boy notices and narrows his eyes, following you into the kitchen quickly and leaning against the counter. 

“you know, it’s weird that it’s only in the morning,” yunho says inquisitively, “and that yeosang didn’t get it in that first twenty four hours.”

“i know, right, i was thinking the same thing,” you admit, dapping the sponge with dish soap as you clean out your dishes. 

“maybe it’s some kind of, like, food poisoning? me and yeosang got that sushi place a few nights before this all-”

your apartment door opening causes you to peek out into the hallway, a tall and annoyed mingi making his way to you; the boy seems even more disappointed when he smells the familiar scent of yunho’s soup.

“did you save some for me?” 

“are you sick?” yunho asks, smiling softly when mingi pokes him in the arm. “what happened? why do you look so annoyed?”

“because halloween isn’t for another week and people are already coming into the bars dressed up and shit. if i had to serve one more person covered in a poorly cut white sheet, i was gonna scream.” 

you and yunho side eye each other with a smirk, one of mingi’s many complaints about being a part-time bartender the amount of sociable people. but the job works for him despite his less than amused attitude, his withdrawn, mysterious personality and handsome face responsible for his hefty tips.

“what are you guys gonna be? pirates again?” you ask, a wide cheeky grin on your face; for the past three halloweens, they haven’t strayed from their favorite costumes. 

“pirates again,” mingi mocks immaturely, his head turning toward you before he does a double take. his hand on your face causes you to stop washing your spoon, eyebrows pulled together as you look at him in confusion. 

“what?” 

“you look weird,” mingi says bluntly, turning your face side to side. your mouth drops open as yunho smacks him in the arm, coming to your defense and saying that you’ve been sick for the past few days.

“yeah, you asshole! i’ve been puking my guts out all morning, excuse me for not looking my best.”

“even more reason for you to go to the doctor,” yunho chimes in quietly, the icy look you throw his way causing him to smile sweetly. 

“but i start to feel fine by the afternoons,” you whine, pulling your face out of mingi’s grasp belligerently. “i have a feeling they won’t even help me.”

“you still have to go, babe,” yunho says softly, running his hand through your hair gently. “that doesn’t sound normal. especially since it’s almost been an entire week.”

you let a sigh as you turn off the sink, wiping your hands on your pants before promptly (and immaturely) stomping back to the couch. it’s in your pursuit to throw yourself back down on the cushions that mingi grabs you before you can, gazing down at you with a wide-eyed expression. 

“what?” you whine again, the slightest hint of exasperation in your tone; he’s starting to freak you out.

“has yeosang gotten sick?”

you shake your head.

“and it’s only in the morning?”

a confused nod.

“and you’re just nauseous and puking?

another confused nod, about to ask him what the hell he’s on about before his next question causes your stomach to drop.

“is your period late?” 

the question makes you still and you’re faintly aware of yunho’s choked gasp in the background, thinking back to the last time you had your period. 

you wrack your brain for the answer but can’t quite remember, pushing down the panic that’s threatening to rise as you start to piece things together. 

your skin’s been clear, you haven’t had cramps, your boobs don’t hurt... but even so, that wouldn’t be possible, right? 

you’ve been on birth control since high school. there’s no way that’s why your period is late, school just started up and work is stressful.

you’ve been stressed since summer ended, not used to the new routine of life. 

there’s no way that the 99.9% effectiveness rate is gonna fail you out of everyone in the world. especially when you’re pretty good about taking it, when you take it everyday around the same-

“holy fuck. it’s late, isn’t it?” 

“mingi, shut up! she looks like she’s about to puke again.”

you don’t even realize that you’re panicking until you look up at them and see them watching you carefully, yunho soft and sympathetic while mingi is shocked and almost disturbed. 

“i-it’s because i’m stressed,” you say, voice sounding like you’re on the brink of a mental breakdown; the denial and hope is all too evident. 

“i have a lot more assignments now for school and work’s been crazy. i’m just stressed and i’m... i can’t be-”

“the pill isn’t always effective, y/n...” yunho says gently, his voice soothing and sweet but doing nothing to calm you. 

“yes it is,” you squeak, your eyes wide and hands shaking as you watch the two giant boys looking down at you. “i-it’s 99.9%...” 

“they say it’s probably only 91% effective...” mingi says, yunho letting out a scoff as he drags mingi back against his body. 

“you’re not helping at all,” he growls lowly in his fiancé’s ear, the dark-haired boy turning around and looking over his face. 

“she has morning sickness, yunho, how could this not be-”

“it’s not morning sickness! i can’t be pregnant!”

the thought didn’t even cross your mind, not in the slightest. why would it? you’ve been safe and careful and actively trying to prevent this. 

“y/n, it’s okay,” yunho says, making his way over to you slowly.

your heart starts to pound and tears are threatening to burn the back of your eyes, shaking your head frantically as you look between the two boys. 

“why is it late? i didn’t- i didn’t even notice. or think about that. oh, my god.”

you throw your head in your hands and yunho’s quick to plop down beside you, putting his arm around you gently before pulling you into him. 

he breathes quiet reassurances into your ear for a few silent moments, his scent clean and nice and you try to focus on it surrounding your nose and calming you.

but it does nothing of the sort. 

because yeosang’s scent is always the thing to calm you, sweet and familiar and reminiscent of your home that’s mixed with whatever festive candle is burning at the time.

but what would yeosang think about this current situation, knowing that you’re really entertaining the idea that you might be pregnant with his child?

“what would yeosang say?” you blurt out, your head snapping to see mingi now a few feet away from you. 

you’re suddenly consumed by how fucking eerie this all is, just a little over a month ago talking with yeosang about your future kids. but he had made it clear  it was far into the future, the same way you did. 

you never ever thought the future would be only weeks later. 

“he said he wanted kids in the future. but the future future! we even said you guys would have kids before us and would need a lot of practice! holyfuck, no. i can’t be pregnant, i can’t be-”

“y/n.”

mingi’s knelt between your legs before you can pass out from lack of air, his face relaxed and eyes looking up at you softly. you swallow the lump in your throat as he exaggerates his breathing, in and out, as he rests his hands on your knees. 

“mingi, i can’t. what if i’m actually-”

“stop.” 

his voice is deep and gruff as he shakes his head, ignoring yunho’s gaze piercing into his face. your eyes start to well up with tears the more he looks at you, the sympathy in his gaze making you even more uneasy. 

“mingi,” you whine but he only shakes his head again, squeezing your knee as he begins to talk.

“we’ll go get a test, okay? all three of us. together.”

“and what if it’s-”

“we’ll deal with whatever result when it happens. but for now, we gotta figure it out first.”

mingi can see the fear behind your eyes so he rubs his hand over your knee soothingly, eventually helping you up and out of the house with yunho. 

there’s a slightly tense silence as you guys walk down the block to the nearest pharmacy, trapped between the two boys who bump your arms and occasionally graze your hand affectionately. 

you looked over the tests in a daze, your shaky hand reaching to pick out a pack of five as you tried to brace yourself for whatever the result was gonna be. 

“i can’t do it.”

“you have to, y/n. how else are we gonna know?” mingi asks you through the door an hour later, the white stick in your hand as you try to force yourself to pee on it. 

it’s one thing to pee in a cup at the doctor to make sure all is well but doing it to find out if your life is about to change forever? that’s a lot more daunting to do, let alone on five of them. 

“just do one first, then we can go from there,” yunho says gently, his kind, soft-spoken voice not even helping you at this point.

“i can’t!” you cry out, tears pricking your eyes as the white test wobbles in your hand. 

“you gotta try, babe,” yunho says softly, mingi biting his tongue as he resists the urge to stomp in there and demand to help; his fiancé must know it too, if the chastising look he throws his way tells him anything.

“she’s scared, mingi,” yunho mumbles softly, squeezing his fiance’s arm affectionately. 

it’s one of the many, subtle ways he’s learned to calm mingi down over the years, whether it be when the boy is an anxious fit or ready to bite someone’s head off. 

“i know she is but she could not be pregnant,” the tall boy rationalizes, placing his hand atop yunho’s absentmindedly. “so she’s just freaking herself out for nothing.”

“you’d freak out too if you thought you were pregnant.”

“okay, well no shit,” mingi deadpans, a laugh bubbling from yunho that has a smile lighting up the usual grouchy boy’s face. 

“why are you guys laughing!” you yelp, whipping open the door to reveal yourself with tears brimming in your eyes. “this is no laughing matter!” 

“can you just piss already?” mingi asks snippily, yunho pinching his arm and mumbling for him to get you some water before looking at you encouragingly. 

his hands cup your face gently, eyes soft and sympathetic as he looks you over. 

“i know you’re scared, y/n, but the quicker you can go, the quicker you’ll have the results and know for sure.”

“yunho, if i’m pregnant, what am i gonna-”

“then you’re pregnant and we’ll figure out what to do next,” he says with finality, his thumbs stroking over your cheek gently. “but you could also not be pregnant and just be stressed with everything, like you said. we won’t know until you pee.”

you let out a noise between a huff and a laugh, looking at him with a frown before taking a deep breath and braving the bathroom once again. 

it takes you a few moments, getting the urge to urinate as you place the stick between your legs but eventually, you have it in the sink and you’re gripping the counter tightly. 

never ever did you think in a million years you’d be in this situation during your junior year of college, hunched over a sink in your ritzy, city apartment waiting for the results of a pregnancy test.

you have to imagine yeosang never pictured this either, the kids he planned to have in his adult years way after college coming to him nearly 10 years early. 

tears burn your eyes as you picture telling him, lucky to not have the financial burden of raising a child but instead...everything else. the way one’s life and relationships and mindsets truly change after becoming a parent.

using the word parent to describe you and yeosang doesn’t even sound right.

how are you supposed to do this? tell him and think it over and make decisions about this when most days, you two can’t even decide what you wanna eat. 

you both still have so much left to do with your young adult lives, finishing school and getting jobs and maybe traveling to the top ten countries you guys decided one night at two a.m. 

could you do all of it with a baby? could you guys survive it at all? is this something yeosang would even consider despite being-

“y/n? did you do it?” yunho’s soft voice calls, the eerie silence within the bathroom making the two giant boys panic right outside. 

they get their answer when you open the door and stare at them with a terrified expression, wide eyes and a wobbling lip that immediately causes mingi to pull you into him. 

you crumble against him as you bury your face in his broad chest, only slightly aware of yunho petting the top of your head calmingly. 

the apartment is silent despite the honks and bustle of the city outside, all three of you breathing slowly and calmly as you inhale the smell of mingi and yunho’s combined scents; you think it has something to do with them sharing clothes more often than not. 

the silence is broken when you three hear a beep from a few feet away, your head snapping up and back toward the bathroom as mingi mumbles a low “shit.” 

yunho sneers at him before walking over to you, giving you a knowing look as tears well up in your eyes.

“it’s okay,” the dark haired boy promises, firmly believing that no matter what the result is, it’ll all eventually be okay. 

“you look first,” you beg, voice barely above a whisper. 

you can’t bring yourself to look at it yet, knowing that there’s a 50% chance your life is about to drastically change. 

you need the last few moments of pure panic before you either become so relieved and overwhelmed with gratitude or start to panic 100 times more. 

“are you sure?” yunho asks apprehensively, now feeling a bit of fear pull in his own gut. 

“positive,” you say, your face falling just as mingi snorts, “it might be.”

“mingi,” yunho mumbles warningly just as you snap your head in his direction. 

the death glare you send his way nearly makes him smile, if the mood wasn’t so tense and yunho wasn’t glaring at him and you weren’t four seconds away from finding out if a fetus is about to start growing inside you.

“please look before i start to puke again.”

yunho looks over your face one more time before letting out a sigh, walking into the bathroom and looking down at the white stick in the sink. 

he feels his heart drop into his stomach immediately, tightening his hold on the marble countertop as he swallows. mingi notices the way his adams apple bobs and feels his own eyes widening, squeezing past you as you watch the scene unfold in front of you.   

mingi places his hand on yunho’s arm as he peers over the boy’s shoulder, a gasp leaving his mouth that immediately causes tears to spring to your eyes. 

and it’s when your best friend looks at you with a flood of different emotions swirling in his eyes, you already know what the result is.

the same result as the other four tests you took afterward, a total of five positive pregnancy tests right there in your bathroom sink. 

you’re not sure how long you cried into your hands as you slumped onto the couch, sobs wracking your body and shaking as you tried to come to terms with it. 

because the prospect of your life changing wasn’t the only scary thing, yeosang’s reaction and your parents wasn’t the only scary thing; the journey of the pregnancy itself was fucking terrifying. 

watching and feeling your body change and going through an ordeal every woman describes as something so incredibly painful. you’d already been puking and having body ache thus far, and you know things are only gonna get worse. 

even after your cries eventually stop, your face red and eyes sore and nose full of wet snot, the boys next to you are still silent. you almost think they expected the results to be negative, not to go back and check again and again and again for the two tiny pink lines displayed on the screen.

“i’m scared.”

it’s the first thing you say to break the silence after god knows how long, mingi looking to you just as yunho reaches out and holds your hand in his. they were lost in their own little world too, wondering how you’re gonna handle going through this and what yeosang’s response will be. 

they know he loves you and will be by your side no matter what but it’s still a hard situation to grasp. being young and scared and faced with the challenges an accidental pregnancy creates. 

“what are you gonna do?” mingi asks softly; you know the situation has gotta be bad, because you don’t know if you’ve ever heard his voice this sweet talking to anyone besides yunho. 

“i don’t know,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as the last remaining tears burn the back of your eyes. “i just...i don’t know. i’m so fucking scared.”

“well do you wanna...keep it?” mingi asks, yunho’s head snapping to the side as he looks at him. “you have options, you know.”

"i know,” you tell him softly, licking over your lips nervously; you never thought in a million years this would be a predicament you were in. “i don’t know if i could do that. i’m scared... but that seems scarier to me. and i still have to tell yeosang.”

the two boys don’t comment as you sit there with your thoughts, your leg starting to bounce nervously as you think about telling yeosang this news; this kind of announcement should be happy and joyful and exciting, you feel bad by the sheer terror pulsing in your veins. 

“i have to tell yeosang,” you repeat, yunho and mingi looking you over as you start to think aloud. “what is he gonna say? what if he gets mad?” 

“he’s the one who did it, how the fuck is he gonna get mad?” mingi growls, the semi-like, hate relationship with the boy coming out; he doesn’t think yeosang will react like that but he knows if he does, he’ll for sure crack his head open the way he intended to in the library back in high school.

“he’s not gonna be mad,” yunho assures, side eyeing mingi before he places a hand on your shoulder. “he’s probably gonna be just as scared as you.”

and you think if yeosang came home later that night in a good mood, you would’ve seen that yunho was right.

but the second your boyfriend got in the door, you knew he wasn’t okay. his face was pale and sunken and he looked utterly defeated, hair messy from the downpour of rain and just an overall look of exhaustion over him. 

“work is driving me fucking insane, babe, it’s like they don’t know i’m still in school,” he tells you over dinner, his fork viciously stabbing into a piece of chicken. 

“i have a hundred different things to do and they’re being assholes because i asked for one fucking extension. i’m just about ready to tell them to go fuck themsel- are you okay?”

he looked up from his food to see you staring down at your plate of noodles, completely untouched as your eyes train blankly on the white take out bowl. 

“baby?” he hums lowly, his hand touching yours causing you to jump slightly. his eyebrows pull together slightly as he looks over your face, looking for any visible signs of stress or upset. “what’s wrong? do you not like it?”

“oh, no, no,” you laugh out humorlessly, bringing your fork down to swirl a few noddles before popping it in your mouth. “sorry, i’m just sleepy. yunho and mingi came over today.”

“ahh, tired my sick girl out, huh?” he teases, a frown on his face as he places the back of his hand on your head. “how’d you feel today? i hated leaving you.”

it takes everything in you not to burst into tears on the spot, your stomach twisting painfully as you shrug your shoulders at him. 

“fine,” you mumble, “threw up a few times, then felt better. the same thing.”

“you gotta go to the doctor, love,” yeosang says, wiping at the corner of your mouth where a small speck of sauce lay. “i know you hate them but this is weird. especially since i feel fine.”

you only smile softly at him and nod, stomach sinking again after he adds on, “well, apart from being worried about you and so fucking annoyed with work. i know hwa’s mom got me the job but, shit, i’m about ready to be a real dick.”

“don’t do that,” you chastise lightly, smacking him in the arm playfully. he only chuckles in response, the tenseness in his eyes from the moment he walked in slowly disapating. 

you can’t mention this tonight. you have to wait until his stress is minimal and news of his baby won’t be the thing that puts him over the edge. 

“congratulations, you’re almost seven weeks pregnant!”

the words didn’t surprise you when you went to the doctor three days later, mingi’s hand in yours with a horrible pit in your stomach. 

it felt wrong to be here with anyone who wasn’t yeosang but yunho and mingi had begged you to go, stressing your own personal safety as well as ensuring you didn’t somehow get five false positives. 

and over the next few days, anytime you’d try to tell yeosang, something always came up and prevented you.

work and school still stressing him out, his coworkers inviting you guys to dinner, you passing out while he was still in the shower because apparently the first trimester is doing you so dirty already. 

“you have to tell him soon, babe,” yunho said a week after that doctors appointment, holding back a laugh as he remembers the horror that crossed his fiance’s face when everyone thought he was the proud father to be.

“have you told him yet?” mingi asked two weeks later, back from a vacation with yunho where they couldn’t help but worry about you and yeosang.

his eyes widened and he covered his face with his hands when you shook your head no, his loudly spoken “what are you waiting for!” echoing through the small coffee shop.

“keep your voice down!” you snap, smacking him from across the table as you shoot him a stern look. 

“y/n, it’s almost been a month and he still doesn’t know he’s gonna be a dad,” the boy whispers now, even though yeosang’s across the city at work and there’s only a few other people in the store right now. 

“he’s been stressed about work and school and there just... hasn’t been a right time,” you reason weakly. 

because even though that is the truth, he has been stressed and news of this would surely add on to it, you also know that telling him would make this all feel too real.

put it out in the world that you’re pregnant and he’ll be a father and you’ll both have to start making decisions based around those facts; are you both ready for this discussion?

you don’t feel ready. you feel more scared about this than you’ve ever felt in your entire life 

“there might not ever be a good time, y/n,” mingi says softly, understanding why you’re scared but also knowing, despite his own feelings toward the boy, that yeosang will love you no matter what. 

“and even though he’s a fucking dick, he loves you. and he wouldn’t want you being scared and dealing with this alone.”

tears prick your eyes because you know what mingi’s saying is right. and you guess if you’re gonna be terrified and stressed out, you might as well be together. 

but your stomach nearly sinks that night, yeosang’s arm around your shoulder as you both watch tv, when he lowers the volume and begins to speak.

“baby, can i ask you something?”

you turn around and peek up at him, his eyes soft and curious and it makes your heart pull in your chest that even you can see the love reflecting in them.

“hm?” you hum as you look at him, warm and comfortable in his hold; because as far as stress and ways to relieve it go, you two usually fuck until you forget it. 

but you haven’t felt right in the mornings and get sleepy by night, something you know yeosang had to have noticed and is too sweet to call you out on. 

“are you... is everything okay?” he asks, his arm rubbing at your shoulder gently. “i feel like you’ve been out of it these past few weeks.” 

he noticed the week you were sick but chopped it up to just that, feeling gross and drained and he completely understood it.

but then it seemed as if you started to avoid him completely, pushing away when he’d try to deepen a kiss or mutter that you weren’t in the mood when he sank to his knees at your bedside. 

“and i don’t know... you seem a little distant,” he mumbled lowly, his hand slowly reaching up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “i just wanna make sure everything’s okay.”

you think maybe it’s a little bit of everything that makes you promptly burst into tears. his sweetness and the starting of hormones and the guilt of keeping this secret from him for far too long.

“baby, what happened?” yeosang mumbles, his heart sinking the second he sees the tears well in your eyes.; he wasn’t sure what happened or what was wrong but he knew it had to be something.

you can only sniffle as you bury your face in his chest, shaking your head as you just cry and cry into him. 

you’re faintly aware of his hand running through your hair, lips against your head as he takes deep, calming breaths. 

“please tell me what’s wrong,” he says after a few moments, pulling your face out of his chest so you can meet his gaze. the look in your eye is one he’s never seen before and he doesn’t know what to make of it, wiping wetness from your cheeks as he looks at you pleadingly.

“c’mon, my love. talk to me,” his deep voice begs, a tiny sob leaving your mouth as you shake your head again.

“you’re gonna be mad,” you whimper out, knowing that you keeping this from him for this long was so fucking stupid; but you’re scared and you know he’s gonna be too, especially given his.... upbringing.

there are just so many factors that are making all of this ten times scarier.

“i won’t, baby,” he tells you gently, a pout on his lips as he looks down at you. 

he’s not used to seeing you this upset, he hates seeing you cry and in any sort of pain since, for the past few years, you’ve only ever cried because of stupid, cheesy movies.

but you can only look at him with a blank expression, both of knowing very well how short his fuse could be. 

“when do i ever get mad at you?” he corrects, a tiny smile breaking out across his face when you sniffle and your face scrunches up. 

he doesn’t know what you’re about to tell him, or what could be so scary and upsetting that you’re breaking down like this, but he knows that when it comes to you, he’s wrapped around your finger. 

and nothing you tell him could ever be that bad and panic-inducing. 

“i’m pregnant.”

part 3

tag list: @mirror-juliet​ @toffee-hwa​ @valhoez​ @miatsubaki23​ 

[imaginationintowords]

Folklore [song series]

this is me trying

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

word count: 3592

[a/n: I’m so sorry that it’s taken me so long to update this and my other story. i’ve been busy with school and work. thank you for your continued patience and support]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20 Year: Dec. 2014 Location: Brooklyn, NY

"How have you been James?”

Bucky looks out the window to his right. Hands grasped together in his lap as he sits on the dark green sofa across from the woman he's been seeing for the last 5 months.

He ponders the question, making sure to answer it honestly. He looks back at her giving her his full attention again.

"Good," he answers truthfully, a small smile planted on his face. Life has been good. School is going incredibly well. My job is going better than I could've imagined. Really learning a lot."

"How are things going with Natasha?" The older lady asks.

“Great. Really great," Bucky says with a slightly bigger smile.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that," she smiles back, proud to the see progress James has made since his first visit moths ago.

After the blow up he and Steve had, Bucky fell into a depressive state. He refused to talk to anyone about what had happened. It wasn't until his younger sister Rebecca came to talk to him:

"I get you don't want to talk to any of us about what happened last week," she said as Bucky laid in bed looking out the window, his back facing her, "But you can't just stay in bed, hiding for the world. Starving yourself isn't going to solve anything.

"Sulking is only going to make you worse. It's not healthy, Buck. We're all worried. Ma is incredibly worried. She's barely been eating. I hear her wandering the house at all hours, because she can't sleep."

"You don't want to talk to us, fine. But you need to talk to someone. If not for yourself, but for Ma. Please," she begs, before leaving Bucky alone to ponder what she said.

He knew he wasn't coping the healthy way. He hadn't realized how much he was affecting his family by shutting down. The last thing he wanted to do was worry his mother. So he got himself up, took a shower, ate breakfast with his family. They were surprised to see him come down, but tried not to draw any extra attention to it. Rebecca gave him an understanding nod, which he reciprocated. After breakfast, he began his research. He decided to listen to Rebecca's advice and find someone to talk to someone to help him make sense of what is going on in his mind.

And that's how he ended up in Dr. Abraham's office.

"Have you contacted Steve yet?" She asks.

"No," he answered fiddling with his fingers, "I feel embarrassed about the way I reacted."

"That's normal, James," she assured him, "But in order to repair any damage that's been cost, you need to talk to Steve. To move forward. From what you've told me he's a very understanding person. I'm sure once you've apologized and explain to him the steps you've taken to help your mental health, I'm sure he'd be willing to accept you back into his life."

"I'm not so sure," he looked down at his hands.

"You won't know until you've tried. Listen, I'm not here to tell you what to do or what not to do. I'm just here to help you navigate your thoughts a little better. In a more healthy way. If you're really serious about living a more healthier mental life, I think you should talk to him. You don't want to really throw this lifelong friendship away, do you?"

"No, I don't," he shakes his head.

"Good. Remember to be honest," she tells him, "Vulnerability isn't a bad thing. Your feelings aren't a nuisance. it's how you handle them is what matters. I'm not saying you have to talk to him as soon as you walkout of here. I just want you to start making the notion of doing so. Our time is just about up, how about we do this. Some homework for the week.

"I want you to write a letter to Steve. Bring it in next week, you don't have to read it. But I would like to discuss it. What do you say?"

"Okay, I could do that," he agreed.

Christmas week

Steve and Elizabeth flew back home a few days before Christmas. They put their bags in the trunk of their rental car.

The car ride was silent for awhile, both tired after a long flight, now sitting in traffic on their way back to their parents' place. This would be their first time back to Brooklyn since the whole Bucky situation. The road trip back to California was fun, but there was a looming sadness over Steve. It's not like he regrets standing up to Bucky he doesn't. He just wishes thing would've played out differently. He really wished Bucky would've talked to him before he left back to California.

"How are you feeling about being back?" Elizabeth asks, while they sat in traffic.

"I don't know," Steve sighs, "Feels weird going back home and not talking to Bucky."

"Maybe you should try calling him. It's been a few months. I'm sure he'd be willing to hear you out," she said, rubbing his right arm.

"I don't want to push him," Steve said through gritted teeth, his grip on the steering wheel getting tighter.

Bucky had been a touchy subject the last few months. During the first month Elizabeth would ask Steve if he'd heard from him, the answer always being no, followed by Steve shutting down. After that Elizabeth stopped asking, noticing how much it was affecting Steve, but the constant reminder of it wasn't helping. She knew that if Bucky ever did call, Steve would tell her. The only thing she could do was be patient and be there for Steve whenever he needed her.

The holidays kept everyone busy. On Christmas Eve. Steve spent it with Elizabeth's family at her grandma's house. Elizabeth found herself watching Steve play with her younger cousins, she couldn't help but giggle when they roped him into a tea party. She found herself imagining a future where Steve would do the same with their own children. She quickly shook the daydream away. Reprimanding herself a little for even thinking about kids at their young age.

On Christmas morning Elizabeth and Steve spent it with his parents. It was a nice peaceful day just lounging around in their pajamas. For dinner, Elizabeth's parents went over to have dinner at the Rogers' house. It was a nice little send off dinner for their parents who were leaving for Mexico to spend the New Years for a couples' getaway.

Elizabeth and Steve were heading to the Hamptons to spent NYE with Wanda, Thor, Loki, and Scott. They had planned to have a nice, peaceful trip.

While Steve and Elizabeth were at the Hamptons, Bucky and Natasha were spending their NYE at his family's beach cottage in Port Washington.

They were cuddled on the couch surrounded by take out containers, watching the New Years Eve special waiting for midnight to happen.

Bucky got up about 15 minutes to midnight to grab something from the kitchen. He walked back into the room with a new bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes.

"Got some champagne," he said holding it up for Natasha to see.

"Um," Natasha awkwardly shifted in her seat, "Actually about that."

Bucky looked at Nat confused, putting the bottle and flutes down on the coffee table before sitting back down next to her.

"What's wrong" he asked, grabbing the tv remote to mute the tv, and give Natasha his full undivided attention.

"So there's something I haven't told you," she says looking down at her fidgeting fingers.

"You're worrying me Nat," Bucky said, grabbing her hands to help ease her nerves

She looked up to meet his worry filled eyes.

"I'm pregnant," she announced.

Bucky eyes widen at her announcement, instantly dropping her hands. The look on her face showing she was telling the truth.

"How is that possible?" He asks in disbelief, "We've been so careful. We use double the protection. Condoms and you're on the pill."

"Actually about that," she nervously shifted under his intense gaze, "I haven't been on birth control in a little over two months."

"What?" Bucky yelled, quickly rising from his seat, "What do you mean you haven't been on birth control in a little over two months?"

"I got off of it," she shrugged trying to play it off, "It's my body and I can do what I want with it. And I just wanted to give my body a break, I've been on the pill since I was 15."

"I get it's your body, Natasha, I'm all for you doing whatever you want," he stresses, "but you should've told me. I'm your boyfriend, we have sex frequently. You should've at least had the respect of your sexual partner, letting him know that you were no longer on birth control. So in that case I could've been a tad more careful."

"We were using condoms," she half heartedly defended herself.

"They aren't 100% effective Natasha," he gripped his hair, in complete disbelief over this entire conversation, "You even know that. That also doesn't defend yourself for not telling me. You should've told me."

"I'm sorry. It's not like I was planning for this to happen," she yelled.

Bucky just stared at her like she just grew two heads. How is she not freaking out, he thought. They were clearly way too young for this. Which is why they took precautionary measures.

After a few moments of silence Natasha spoke up, "I'm keeping the baby."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He felt the room closing in on him. He started having a hard time catching his breath.

"James," Natasha quietly said, getting up to check on him. He raised his hand, silently telling her to stay where she's at.

He headed for the back door, the house felt too suffocating for him. He walked through the the small yard to the gate that led to the beach. Stumbling around.

To a stranger they would just think he's drunk. In reality he was just having a panic attack.

It was all too much. His mind was racing.

She's pregnant. With a baby. My baby. I'm going to have a kid. I'm going to be a dad. I'm not ready to be a dad. My dad was shit. God I can't be like my dad. I'm not ready for all of this.

He put his hands on his knees, hunched over trying to catch his breath. But he just couldn't. He did the only thing he could think of. He pulled out his phone and dialed the only person he knew would help.

Steve and Elizabeth were laughing with their friends, waiting for the countdown to begin. Steve felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He moved his shoulder off of the back of the couch, where Elizabeth was cuddled up against.

He pulled his phone out and his heart dropped at the name that appeared. He quickly got up and walked out of the living room and upstairs to the room where he was staying in for the week.

Wanda raised her eyebrow at Elizabeth, who just shrugged her shoulders, equally as confused.

"Bucky?" Steve answered the phone, closing the door behind him. He could hear Bucky hyperventilating on the other side.

"Steve," he tried to get out.

"Buck, what's wrong?" Steve asked, pressing the phone even closer to his ear the sound of everyone downstairs counting down to midnight.

"Steve, I-," Bucky was struggling to get out.

"Buck, please try to calm down," Steve stressed, "Inhale, hold it for a few seconds and then exhale. You need to calm down. I can't help you, if I can't understand you."

Bucky tried his best to calm himself down, with Steve talking him through it.

"Now, can you explain to me what's wrong?" Steve asked, hearing Bucky's breathing leveling out more.

"I-I'm not re-ready Steve," Bucky stutters, sniffling his nose.

"It's okay take your time, I'm here whenever you're ready."

"No, it's Natasha.”

"What's Natasha? Is she okay?" Steve questioned, getting more concerned.

"Yes, she's fi-ine," he stuttered again, trying to say the words.

"Where are you Buck?" Steve asked, looking around for his shoes and keys.

"I'm at the beach cottage."

"I'm in the Hamptons. Is there any way you can meet me back at my place?"

"Yeah, I think I can," Bucky said a bit more calmer now.

"Okay, I'll see you soon."

When midnight struck Elizabeth went upstairs to check on Steve, making sure everything was okay. She could hear him on the phone talking to Bucky, trying to calm him down. She waited outside of the door to give them some privacy.

Twenty minutes later Wanda went to go check on them, to find Elizabeth sitting on the floor.

"Is everything okay?" She whispered.

"I don't know," she answered, "I'm waiting for Steve. You can head back down, I'll be down shortly."

"Okay. We're here if you guys need anything," Wanda said before walking back down.

After another 25 minutes Elizabeth heard Steve hang up the phone. She softly knocked on the door, and let herself in. She walked in to see Steve frantically going around the room collecting his things.

"Steve is everything okay?"

"It's Buck. He called me while he was having a panic attack. Something about Natasha," he tells her.

"Is she okay?"

"I think so. I was able to calm him down. I need to get back home," he said putting his things in his suitcase.

"Okay. I completely understand. Do you want me to go with you for the drive?" She asked.

"I don't want you to have to cut your time here short," he says, feeling guilty for bringing this on her.

"Steve, something is clearly going on with Bucky. I want you to go to him, but maybe it's best if I drove. I haven't had a drink in hours, and you seem too frantic. Please let me help," she pleaded, placing her hand on his stopping him.

Steve looked up and noticed the worry on Elizabeth's face.

"Okay," he gave in, "We'll need to leave as soon as we can."

Elizabeth nodded, quickly grabbing her weekender bag and start shoving things in. If they forgot anything's he knew Wanda would bring it back.

They said their quick goodbyes and were on the road within 5 minutes, with Elizabeth behind the wheel and Steve fidgeting in the passenger seat.

Bucky took a few minutes to himself on the beach, trying to make sure his anxiety was at rest before he headed back inside. When he entered the house, Natasha shot up from her seat.

"Happy New Years," she awkwardly said, trying to cut the obvious tension.

"Umm," Bucky scratched his head looking everywhere but at Natasha, "We need to leave."

"What?"

"I mean, you can stay if you want and I'll pick you up tomorrow," he rephrased, "But I can't stay here. I need to go. Steve is meeting me at his house."

"Steve?" She was taken back by that mention, not expecting to hear Bucky say his name. He hasn't mentioned Steve in months.

"Yeah, I called him," Bucky says rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well that's good right?"

"Yeah, listen. I really need to go, so are you going to stay or come with me?"

"To see Steve?"

"No. I would drop you off at your place," he tells her, "I'm seeing Steve alone."

"Will she be there?"

Natasha didn't really know exactly why Steve and Bucky weren't talking, at first. Then she heard that Steve and Elizabeth were dating, and it all made sense. The only person that could tear Bucky and Steve apart. She never told Bucky that she knew. Figured it wasn't worth the fight. Especially not now when she was carrying his child.

To an outsider it might seem like she got pregnant on purpose, but that wasn't the case. She knew they were too young for this, at least that's what she thought when she first found out about the pregnancy a week ago. But now that she's sat with it she's taking it as a sign that this is meant to happen. She's just really hoping that Bucky would see it, if not now but eventually.

"Listen, Natasha, I don't have time for this," he looks her in the eyes, "Are you coming or not?"

"I'll get my bag," she remarked with a snark tone, walking passed him to their shared room.

A couple of hours later Bucky was pulling up in front of the Rogers' house. 2:15 am read the clock in his car. He looked to his right, out the passenger side window to see a dark figure sat on the front steps of the house.

Bucky took one last breath before exiting the vehicle.

As soon as he opened the front gate Steve stood up from where he was sat on the stairs.

Once Bucky approached him both young men threw their arms around each other. Gripping each other tightly, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. They stayed like that for awhile. Relishing in the comfort of being back in each other's arms. Their silent fight no longer important. All they knew in that moment was everything was going to be okay, because no matter what they'll always have each other.

Steve walked into his parents' living room holding two mugs of coffee. As he rounded the couch, he handed one to Bucky.

"Sorry, if I ruined any of your plans," Bucky apologized, "Tell Elizabeth I'm sorry for taking you away."

'Buck, don't worry about it," Steve waved him off, "She completely understands. And truth be told, I wasn't necessarily feeling in the New Year's mood."

"Yeah," Bucky sighs.

"Do you want to talk about what happened tonight?" Bucky nods his head, placing the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of him. He shifted his body to the left to face Steve.

"She's pregnant," he announces.

"What?" Steve asked, not expecting that to be the reason, he quickly placed his mug next to Bucky's.

"Yeah, my reaction exactly," Bucky said.

"What? How?"

"Apparently Natasha hasn't been on the pill in a couple of months," Bucky explains, "And even though we always used condoms, they aren't exactly 100% effective."

"Did you know she wasn't on the pill?"

"Nope," Bucky tells him, "If I knew I wouldn't been a bit more cautious."

"So she told you she was pregnant?" Steve said getting back to it.

"Yeah. She was so nonchalant about it. Like it was no big deal," Bucky stressed,

"How is she just so calm. We're not prepared for this. I'm not ready for this Steve. I can't be a dad. I don't even know how to be a decent human being."

"That's not true Buck," Steve disagreed.

"Come on Steve, we haven't talked in months, and we both know it's not because you didn't try," Bucky says, "I was so caught up in my own jealousy. And selfishness, that I never even considered your feelings or Elizabeth's. And I don't think I can ever make it up to you for treating you like you're nothing to me."

"You were hurt," Steve tried to excuse.

"Doesn't excuse the way I behaved," Bucky says, "I know that now."

"I've been seeing a therapist," Bucky informs him, "I never realized how much my mental health was taking a toll on those around me. So after our fight, I found someone to talk to. To work through the shit that's going on in my mind."

"How's that been going?" Steve asked.

"Good," Bucky gives a half smile, "Really good. She's good. I've realized a lot about myself that I didn't know. Working through all the issues I've had with my father leaving."

"That's good Buck. I'm proud of you, truly," Steve beamed, patting Bucky on the shoulder.

"I really am sorry for the way I behaved," Bucky repeated again.

"Buck, you really don't have to apologize again," Steve told him.

"I need to Steve," he said, "I can't believe I acted that way. I should've been happy for you and Elizabeth. I'm glad you two have each other. Seriously. I couldn't imagine her with anyone better, same goes for you. I won't cause any more issues for you two. It's not worth not having you in my life. You're my brother Steve, and I don't want to miss anything."

"Thanks, Buck. It really means a lot to me to hear that," Steve smiles, "Because I don't want to miss anything in your life also."

"Yeah, especially now," he says, the reality of why they're there dawning back.

"How are you feeling now about the baby?"

"I don't know, man," Bucky shakes his head, "I'm afraid I'm going to screw this up, like everything else."

"But now you're working on that," Steve reminds him, "And you're not going to be doing this alone. You have people who are always going to be there. I may be in California now, but I'm just a phone call away. You're not alone. But you do have to try Buck. That's all that you can ever do. Try your best, no one's asking you to be perfect, but as long as you're trying your best, that's what's important."

Age: 21 Year: 2015

The sounds of a baby crying woke Bucky up from his sleep in the early depths of the morning. He quietly and quickly got out of bed, making his way to the small New York kitchen to make a bottle.

He walked into the small nursery where the two-month-old baby wailed from hunger.

"It's okay," Bucky shushed gently, picking up the small baby, "Daddy's here."

He adjusted the small baby in his arms before placing the bottle in the baby's mouth.

"There you go," he encouraged the small one, as soon as he heard the sounds of the baby drinking.

Bucky sat down on the chair in the corner of the room, opposite of the crib. He just stared as the newborn drank their bottle, while simultaneously falling asleep. Even though he was completely exhausted, he had never felt more happier. More at peace with where his life was at.

As long as he kept trying his best, he knows he can do this for the rest of his life.

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

WKM - Trying to Set Things Right

Inspired by a dream. What might it be like if a redeemed Actor worked to try and help those he hurt? Wilford has disappeared, and he wants to rescue the eccentric man. You and Dark are there to help. Hopefully.

Word Count: 1,408

-

You weren't entirely sure how you got roped into this. You had spent years trapped in that accursed mirror before it shattered enough for you to escape and regain a form. Then, you found yourself trapped again, only this time as the sidekick to the Actor's 'adventures'. The stories seemed cyclical, but you couldn’t keep a full recollection of what happened each time beyond a mild case of deja vu. He was enjoying himself, getting to cast himself as that hero he had always dreamed of while making sure you kept your distance from the heartless entity named Dark. Even if you knew Dark would never hurt you - how could you forget the look of horror the first time he properly saw you during one of those adventures? - you had to stay with the Actor to play the ever-faithful sidekick.

Then… Something happened. You weren’t sure what, exactly, but the Actor’s personality changed almost overnight. He began showing a kinder side, one that you had only heard of in passing years ago, when you were a successful lawyer. You never questioned it. Actor - who once scolded you for addressing him by his job description (“Honestly, do you think I would go around calling you ‘District Attorney’? That’s just ridiculous.”) and insist you call him ‘Mark’ - appeared oblivious to the changes. It was only when Dark appeared outside your place of work for the first time that you were told something both vital and utterly vague:

"Mark broke out of character."

Whatever that meant, it ensured that careless adventures came to a screeching halt. Dark began cautiously visiting the home you shared with Mark. Mark, to his credit, welcomed him with open arms, calling him ‘Damien’ and acting like they had not been in a petty feud for what felt like years. Dark was uncomfortable at first, but gradually accepted that this was a better fate than a never-ending game of ‘cat and mouse’. At least you were able to spend time with him without getting in trouble. 

In his spare time, Mark undertook research. One of the empty rooms had been taken over, and Mark would spend hours in there when not busy with other work. There were flipcharts, pages spread over a table, notes pinned on the wall. He never let you in, only telling you that it was a matter that he needed to be sure was true before sharing his findings.

Then, one fateful day, you returned back to have Mark hook his arm around your elbow and drag you into the 'office'. Dark was there, taking in the information around him and trying to predict what might be wrong.

"Now that we are all here, I can now officially open the case. Wilford has vanished.”

-

It was only as Mark began going through his own records of conversations and papers did you realise you couldn’t recall the last time you saw Wilford. Two weeks ago? Maybe three? It wasn’t something that had worried you, since you knew Wilford fell out of time. This time, unfortunately, it was a serious problem. According to Mark, another story created a loop in a small area in the next town. They were the only ones who could break it and get Wilford (and everyone else in the area) out of it.

"I'm still getting my head around all of this," Mark admitted as he rummaged through the papers, "I know I had a hand in creating this mess, but I'm still trying to come to terms with the work that lies before me to help. I suppose I'll never understand William and what he has become." He turned to continue the search on a bookshelf behind him and you swore you could hear Dark hiss "Wilford" under his breath. You only had a moment to throw a concerned look to Dark before Mark let out a sound of triumph.

“Here!” He slammed the reclaimed map on the table, pointing to an area circled in red. “From my own investigations of the town, this area is the main one that is trapped in the ‘bubble’, much like the ones I used to keep our encounters safe. In the same way, anyone who passes through is unaffected, but they will become trapped if they stay too long - I’d say three hours. Since we have familiarity with it, we can stay there longer and not become ‘cast members’, which is why I need your help. Both of you. Once we get on the road -” Mark continued on, explaining the plan in good detail. While you might have once cursed Actor’s habits of overthinking in story weaving, it proved to be a rather useful skill when he was on your side. Mark had completed his own research to find potential flaws and obstacles that might arise, as though he had been inspired by the detective he had once hired. He assigned everyone their respective roles, and Dark swiftly departed to fetch his jacket and his cane without a word. As the door slammed, Mark slumped as he rested both hands on the table. He let out a long, slow sigh before straightening his posture.

“I know he’ll never forgive me, but it doesn’t make this any easier to swallow.” His eyes were on the door as he folded his arms. “We had been friends for so long and I threw it all away… For what? Some attempt of ‘revenge’ that was never going to work? That’s why I’m doing this. Not to be some ‘noble hero’, but to try and set things right. First, Damien and William. Then, Abe and Celine. They’re the ones still caught under the waves of this stormy disaster. Even if it tears me to shreds, I want to help them. All of them. There has to be a way to undo this, or at least ease the consequences. I don’t want them to suffer any more because of the pain I felt.” You could see the guilt weighing him down. These were words that he sincerely meant. For the first time since you escaped the mirror, he wanted to do the right thing for others and not himself. “Can I ask you something? What are Damien and William like these days? Both are strangers to me now. They look different, insist they go by names that don’t belong to them... I barely recognise the men I knew for most of my life.” He paused, the reality sinking in as he spoke his thoughts aloud for the first time. He looked at you, and you thought you could see fear in his eyes. “This isn’t a pipe-dream, is it? I’m not wishing on an ending that can never be... Am I?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t know how. Either option - ‘this is a waste of time’ or ‘you can do it’ - both seemed false. The future, at last, was out of your hands. Instead, you responded that it was the right thing to do, no matter what the outcome would be. It was a good answer. Mark thanked you with a weak smile as Dark returned. The entity seemed calmer than before as he led the way to the front yard. It was an awkward silence, and you were not sure if the tension in the air could be lifted.

Suddenly, Mark skidded in front, racing toward the garage door as it sputtered to life and moved.

“Whoa whoa, before we go ANYWHERE, I want to remind you both that this is my newest purchase and is a high quality vintage car! I won’t have you two messing or dirtying my baby, are we clear?” You nodded in amusement, while Dark rolled his eyes. Mark pulled the protective tarp off the car and opened the doors, rambling all the while about the age, the model and the ‘great persuasion’ he had to do. Instead of listening, Dark gestured for you to follow with a nod of his head. He crouched down at the back of the car and gently rocked the licence plate with his hand. To your amazement, it swung effortlessly, revealing a plate that aged it to be…. Far younger than a ‘true classic vintage’.

“Typical Mark. So caught up in the elegance of something he neglected to check if it was genuine.” You had to do a double-take. Dark smiled. It wasn’t much, but it was optimistic that things might gradually be okay in time.

--

As a bonus, I’m also including a screenshot of the dream that I sent to my friend this morning (I’m in GMT timezone). When I remember dreams, I get STORIES and I love it.

(In case it’s too blurry:

I HAD A MUSE DREAM. 

 For whatever reason, I was stuck travelling with Dark and reformed!Actor Mark. We were trying to set something right and it was the first time that Mark had been involved in all of this without being the Actor. At one point he sighed and was like "I suppose I'll never really understand William and what he has become" and I could see Dark roll his eyes as he corrected him and said "Wilford". A little later, Dark was checking something and briefly left myself and Mark standing aside. He had his arms folded as he thought and said something like "I hate to admit it, but I need your advice. What are William and Damien like these days? Is there a way to, you know, undo this?". But I couldn't answer, for I didn't know. 

 Then, just before my work alarm went off that I set by mistake last night Mark was showing us his vintage car that he wanted to use for this journey and how it was so precious to him. While he rattled on about it, myself and Dark examined the outside of it and discovered the licence plates were fake and that the real ones underneath had the car as a much newer replica. Dark smiled and muttered something like "typical Mark".)

[aizawaskittenwhore]

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

pairing: cartel!shota aizawa x fem!reader

words: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, this will be a cartel!au, so mentions of c*ke and distribution...yeah lol, suggestive content towards the end of the chapter (vague description of a bj), angst, cheating, aizawa just ain’t shit in this story LMFAOOO

a/n: this is the third fucking time i’ve tried to post this so if it doesn’t work i’m gonna cry. but I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS ONE and i can’t wait for you all to see what i’ve got planned. so uh...strap yourselves in it’s about to get crazy. sorry ms joke </3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐂𝐨𝐜𝐚’ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

The salty, warm breeze from the ocean whipped its way through Shota’s onyx locks, tossing them around with a gentle force. Miami was gorgeous from the water, skyscrapers alight with the buzzing energy of the city, streets crawling with good food and even better looking women. Gorgeous full lips wrapped around martini glasses, criminally short dresses clinging to any skin it was given. He didn’t care much for the nightlife, opting to observe the partygoers from a distance.

He wasn’t here to socialize.

He was here to work.

His wrists draped over the edge of the rail that separated him and the water, a small portion of his weight against the cool metal. When Hizashi suggested that he get a yacht he nearly spat out his whiskey, face contorted in an expression of annoyance and disdain. Shota didn’t understand why someone would need such a flashy boat, it was merely a watercraft meant for travel and or fishing. This wasn’t the 1400’s where one’s worth was tied to the size of a man’s ship. Just another glorified pissing contest for rich people with too much money, and not enough couple’s therapy in the world that could keep them home for days at a time.

It’s not as if he was in any position to judge though, his pinky coming to rest just below the silver band that rarely inhabited his ring finger these days. He doesn’t entirely know what possessed him to wear it, whether it be the ever-crushing guilt from lying to his wife, or the text he’d received from Emi this morning that read:

“Make sure to bring me back a mojito! Don’t work yourself too hard, and remember how much I love you!💕”

If only she knew that these tri-monthly “Inter-Departmental Hero Conferences” were just fronts for selling a literal boat-load of cocaine.

Turns out, yachts were really good for that.

In the span of just five years, superhuman society was nearing it’s peak. Upon the graduation of all the students in the 1-A Hero Course, and Izuku Midoriya’s induction as the new Symbol of Peace; the world began to see an astronomical shift. Crime rates were the lowest they’d ever been, with Japan and the States sitting at 2 and 4.5 percent, respectively. Newly minted Pro Heroes roamed the streets, bringing security to those who needed it and striking fear into the hearts of those who were on the wrong side of the law.

But this utopia came at a price. With the sudden influx of fresh and talented pros, crime decreased exponentially, leaving little villain-based work for Heroes to get paid for. Hostage situations and evacuation efforts took backseat to helping older women across the street and assisting young children with their schoolwork. Soon enough, peace became a burden for those whose careers surrounded chaos.

Aizawa was no exception to this dilemma. Once Midoriya and his classmates graduated and obtained their Hero Licenses, he’d ended his tenure as an instructor at UA. He felt that he’d done his civic duty as a teacher and a Pro, and produced some of the finest Heroes the world would come to see. So he began to settle down. Surprisingly, he’d begun to tolerate Joke’s incessant laughter and boisterous personality, and soon fell in love with the eccentric woman. Between patrols and giving advice to aspiring Heroes at the community center, he and Emi explored all the the world had to offer; swapping out steel-toed combat boots for soft plush flip flops against hot sand. After three years he’d proposed, much to Emi’s delight (and Ashido’s upon hearing that Mr. Aizawa could actually tolerate another human being). The ceremony was small, and intimate. Shinsou serving as the ring bearer, and Eri as the flower girl. Mic even shed a few tears during the toast, though he’ll deny it if Kayama ever brings it up.

For a while, things were good. Life was good. Emi was glowing with the energy of a new life blossoming inside her, and Shota fantasized about meeting his little girl, counting all of her dainty fingers and toes, and doting on her for all to see.

Or at least it was, before agencies began to close. Paychecks got smaller and smaller. Heroes were struggling to find work and their pockets began to struggle along with them. With Emi on maternity leave, and Hero society coming to a standstill, things were looking grim. He needed to provide for his family, his wife, his children.

He needed a plan, and fast.

Luckily, Hizashi always did have good standing with everyone’s favorite Bird Boy. So he called in a few favors.

“Just for a couple months man! We stir up a little bit of noise, make a couple ripples and bam! Crime rate’s back up, and we get back to makin’ money. It’s temporary. Nobody will ever know, I’ll make sure of it. I got you.” Hizashi pleaded, an arm slung across Aizawa’s shoulders as he pensively gazed into his glass of amber liquid. He’d done some vigilante work here and there in his twenties but this....this was outright criminal. But what choice did he have?

Just a few months, he’d said. If only it’d worked out that way.

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t show, Eraser!” Zhu thundered, hands clapping joyously at the other man’s timeliness. “That’s some boat you got there, let me guess...the wife’s idea?” He queried, eyebrows waggling emphatically as Aizawa descended from the metal ladder and onto the wooden pier; eyes rolling into the back of his head at Zhu’s...excitable personality. The two had known each other for about two years or so, having gotten acquainted over the course of Shota’s many trips between Japan and the States, and sometimes South America. Zhu Kanaka was a man of the lower ranks, opting to use his easygoing disposition to negotiate deals for Takami “Lord of The Skies” Keigo, better known as Hawks. Standing at a solid 6 foot 4, with thick black locks that spiked into a point reminiscent of an onion, thick bushy brows and a set jaw, you’d think he wouldn’t hesitate to punt anyone like a football.

At least until he opened his mouth.

“As it turns out, Emi hates the damn thing. Makes her seasick. Hizashi talked me into getting the fuckin’ eyesore.” He intoned. His left hand palmed his slacks for the emergency pack of cigarettes he kept in his back pocket for when he was stressed during a deal, although he never really needed them anymore after Eri said she wanted him to quit. He still held on to them though, just in case. “The hell you waiting for? You know the deal man. Let’s see it.” He muttered, silently willing for Zhu to get on with it so he could get in a bed. Three and a half hours on a goddamned boat (that you didn’t even want to begin with) will do that to you.

“Someone looks like he needs a nap. Alright, I got ya. Count it, make sure it’s all there. I had Thing 1 and Thing 2 back there pack it, so you might wanna double check.” Zhu quipped, jerking a thumb towards the two young men currently engaged in a heated game of Rock, Paper, Scissors; the pair of them flushing upon receiving one of Aizawa’s infamous stares. Two thick black duffles were handed to his two bodyguards, the men immediately unzipping and checking the stacks, a mental tally steadily climbing higher and higher as they sifted through the cash.

“He’s good. Four hundred thousand in each bag. It’s all there, Eraser.” Sato affirmed, Toru nodding alongside the man. “Good. Go ahead and call Jamie, tell him to bring the car around. Zhu, I’ll send Sato and Toru to help your men unload our shipment. It’s a hefty one, so you’ll need the assistance.” Shota offered, shoulders visibly relaxing at the thought of getting some alone time in an empty hotel room.

“Yeah that’d be great, thanks! How long you in town for?”

“Until about 3pm tomorrow. I’ll be on my flight back to Kyushu then.” He states, right arm extending to clasp the other man’s hand in a firm grip. “You’re goin to that meeting the Big Man’s holding in a few days right?” Zhu queries. “Unfortunately, yes. Gonna miss my little girl’s first doctor’s appointment for this shit.”

“No way! She had the baby?!?!? Congratulations man! How’s it feel?” Zhu exclaims, eyes alight with joy for his friend’s new addition to the family. “Feels good. She had a smooth pregnancy, everything worked out fine. Hana’s beautiful, and healthy. I couldn’t be more proud.” Shota brags slightly, heart swelling at the thought of his little girl and how proud he was to know he’d helped in making someone so...ethereal. “Wow. Raising another kid, you flying out all the damn time, along with whatever else you got goin on?? No wonder you look like shit.”

Red eyes and floating hair caused Zhu to immediately retract his former statement.

“Aw I’m just joshin’ Eraser! But I hear ya. It’s a lotta’ sacrifices that go into this, but they’re who we do it for. All of it. Ya know?” Zhu amends, eyes shimmering with the reflection of the city lights off of the water.

Did he even know who... or what he was doing this for anymore?

Shota found himself asking that question more and more often as of late.

“...Right.”

“Anyway, you’re probably spent, so I’ll leave you to it. It was good seeing you man, send Emi my love!” Zhu shouted as he slowly walked towards the men unloading his boat. “Likewise. Tell Macie and the kids I said hello.” Aizawa responded dryly, body screaming for some kind of relief from this exhaustion.

“Will do! Oh, by the way! You might wanna bring some cooler clothes and sunscreen with your pale ass, I hear Guadalajara’s pretty sunny around this time of year! See you in a few days man!” The male laughed, throwing him a wave as he slowly disappeared into the darkness of the port. Massaging the bridge of his nose in irritation, Aizawa nodded in acknowledgement as Jamie pulled up alongside him; his hand reaching for the handle and dragging his siphoned body into the backseat.

Jamie could sense his employer’s weary expression, and didn’t make any attempts at conversation, merely opting to start making his way to the hotel while smooth jazz floated through the car. Forehead against the door of the towncar, Shota typed out a quick message to his wife:

“Alcohol is the last thing you need sweetheart, and I love you too. Got another meeting in a few days, mandatory. I’ll in be in Mexico, so I’ll miss Hana’s appointment. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to the two of you.”

Sent.

The message sat for a few seconds before Emi read and typed out a response:

“Aw, bummer! </3 Dont worry, work is much more important right now. I’ll be sure to take lots of pictures!”

“You don’t have to make it up to us, you caring is enough. Get some sleep old man, me and the girls love you. xoxo, Wifey 😘 ”

He didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve any of them.

This he knew. And yet, it didn’t stop him from responding to the unknown number that texted his phone every time he happened to be in town.

“Same time and place? Desperately in the mood to play....My toys just aren’t as good as yours, Eraser. ;)”

His heart sank. A beat passes. Then two.

Calloused thumbs move fluidly across the screen. He’s done this far too many times.

“Be there in 10. You know the routine.”

And in retrospect...he would’ve been way better off just blowing off Guadalajara and going to Hana’s appointment.

Because while he wrapped her slick ponytail around his hand, as a head that wasn’t his wife’s dipped between his legs, he didn’t think this would be his last moment of peace. Shoved down the throat of a woman who’s name he had long forgotten, settling for calling her whatever pet name he felt like adorning her with, her hands clawing at the soft and sleek cotton of his trousers.

Aizawa never anticipated that this would be the last time he would be in a room without immediate reinforcements, and be content.

The last time someone he didn’t trust with his life knew his location, and he wasn’t terrified.

The last moments of peace in his world before it all went to hell.

Temecula, California;

1:36am

The office floor was barren. Dark, coffee stained carpet congealed with the bacteria of old and new; giving it a sad beige color from the creamy foam-like white it was when the building was built. Cubicles cluttered with miscellaneous paperwork from separate departments, all of it raining down from desk to desk like a fresh layer of snow on the first day of winter. Tired, weary hands typed at a computer with precision and accuracy, the warm glow from the screen illuminating the buttons on her blouse as she plowed through each document. Her body raged for a moment of rest, but she couldn’t give in. Not when so much was at stake, not when so much needed to be done in so little time.

After a few minutes, and approximately twelve sips of bittersweet lukewarm coffee, the fingers came to a halt. A sigh of relief was freed from her body as she pushed the enter button on the dusty, tan keyboard and began to pack up for the night. Since the computers were set on an activity timer, there was no need for her to physically shut it down. After 30 seconds of no visible movement, the screen flashed a message declaring that the activity would be suspended within the next 2 minutes if no motion was detected. Content with her work, she slung her work bag over her shoulder, and trudged towards the elevator, mentally clocking out for the night.

As the elevator slowly carried its passenger down, the computer continued its countdown before discontinuing its power, leaving the following words for nobody but its future recipient to read:

Drug Enforcement Agency Operative Travel Request:

Agent: L/N, F/N

Current Operation: Potential formation of a rising cartel under the leadership and or affiliation of Pro Heroes Hawks, Endeavor, and Eraserhead. Agent has been undercover for eight months and twenty-seven days.

Investigation Status: Active

Location of Travel: Guadalajara, Mexico

Reason for Request: Possible gathering of multiple Hero-Run plazas to discuss further movement. Will gather more intel and gain trust of suspects involved/acquire more resources for investigation.

Travel Request Status: Accepted.

[british-bombs]

( TO BEAT THE DEVIL ) An introduction.

FORMAT: teleplay / novel

GENRE: horror, coming of age

LOGLINE: An interning demon drives a pair of twins cursed with obedience and honesty to kill their cult leader.

THEMES: Trauma, sexual abuse, domestic violence, victim blaming (particularly self blame), peer pressure, redemption, internalized homophobia, and religion.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Sexual abuse, violence, domestic and otherwise, manipulation, and death

EXTENDED SUMMARY, CHARACTERS, EXCERPT AND NOTES:

Carmine can taste it. They're hiding something. Humans have such a silly smell about them, turns an overwhelming shade of sweet when they've made a demonic deal. All four of these children have. He just can't figure out what, and more importantly: why.

It keeps him on the surface longer than he should be. Long enough that Lilith sees it fit to send him a fucking trainee? And if that wasn't insult enough, the trainees one of the eternal teenage know-it-alls.

He's already got four annoying toddlers to trail, and now there's one tugging his hand in the new generation's approach to soul-catching like Carmine isn't one of the best employees they've had since the turn of the century.

And somehow, to make it all worse, the trainee is good at it. And if Carmine wants to keep his spot at the top of the food chain, he's going to have to get the soul of that dumb bitch who's running the joint.

But, of course, the kid gets him murdered??? And then has the nerve to figure out how what those toddlers managed to stick their syrupy, grubby little hands in. What gives?

But two can play at that game. If he can't get the dead guy's, then he can have the next best thing.

Jesse has lived just under seventeen years, but he's ready to check out. Or he was. But of course, some selfish bastard had to come along and say you can't ever act on those thoughts again! Don't think like that!

And then the hole kept getting deeper.

Six feet deep, to be exact. He's got blood on his hands and no matter how fucking good it felt to cut off the air supply to the God who stole his innocence, it's probably not going to feel very good to watch his mom suffer through a highly publicized trial with headlines like CHILD MURDERS HIGH PROFILE BENEFACTOR!!!

Oh. Well. Billy did say if he really got in that deep, he could always strike up a deal. His soul, everything wrapped up in a nice little bow, sweet as Easter Sunday. But until then? Yeah, he's content to live in a stupid fucking Sherlock Holmes novel.

CHARACTERS:

JESSE NIX: A soon-to-be seventeen-year-old saddled with the curse of obedience. Unlike miss-lucky-Ella-Enchanted, he wasn't told to give away his mommy's locket. No-siree. He was told to give away his virginity. In his opinion, the only appropriate payback is a life. Maybe, one day, if he really snaps, he'll dig up Pastor Dallin's corpse and chop his dick off. Really stick it to the man. If he doesn't go to prison first, anyway. (spotify playlist)

NANCY NIX: Also a soon-to-be-seventeen-year-old, though saddled with the curse of honesty. It's really not so bad. That is, until she stumbles across the sight of her dearest little brother covered in blood for no reason he can push through his metal braces. She refuses to believe he did it on purpose. If only she could convince the cops without sounding like a nutjob. (spotify playlist)

BEVERLY PINES: A seventeen-year-old cursed to feel the pain of those around her. It makes for some fun family dinners with a sadistic mom and a missing dad. Distance nulls pain, but she can't ever seem to make it past state lines before her mom gets wise and breaks one of her ribs. Oh, well. She's got a bone to pick with psychos like her mom. Apparently, Pastor Dallin was one of them. She doesn't think she could stomach the pain of killing someone, so next best thing, right? (spotify playlist)

CLARICE ANDERMANN: Also a seventeen-year-old cursed to be constantly in motion. It's honestly not that bad. She's Yale bound! Perks of having endless energy for everything to cheerleading to debate contests, though she can't imagine her heart's going to keep up like this. It's already hanging on by a thread. That thread is named Beverly Pines and like hell she's letting it go to prison for nothing. (spotify playlist)

BILLY: An annoying fuck trapped in a seventeen-year-old's body. No curses. The opposite, in fact - blessed with a silver tongue and a keen sense of deduction. It takes him all of two hours to put together (almost) everything about Jesse Nix. He just didn't think he could push the repressed little fuck to murder that quick. (All the more power to him, though. Prison always makes people desperate and paranoid, AKA: an easy mark.) (spotify playlist)

MAVIS EVANGELISTA: Former housewife turned grieving widow turned revered prophet. If she got a little help from someone downstairs, then who's to know? They love her all the same. Now, she really, really wants to see how far she can push them all. (spotify playlist)

CARMINE: Just a helpful guy, passing through. Really doesn't need anything, just a little pledge, is all! And then? Then, you can have everything you want, fame, money, power, love. The sky is your limit. The water's fine! (Ignore the piranhas, they'll wait till you're dead to eat your face, just a little bit.) (spotify playlist)

NOTES:

- all of these characters have equal importance within the story.

- personal tag system for story stuff is '#tbtd' and character tags are just first name (ex: '#jesse')

- this is kind of really fucked up. the only reason i wrote it was cause i was thinking damn ella enchanted really is NOT fucked up enough. like i don't think the author of ella enchanted went dark enough. a locket? that's it? a bitch move. i'm taking it to straight murder and sexual abuse

- jesse transgender, no character straight except evil people

- i'm not entirely sure how tag lists work but i think i get the gist of them?? idk if you want rb or ask or something </3

EXCERPT:

There were moments, where she was reminded just how different this voice was, how violent.

She had found Lynette, making off with her makeup that she’d spent her own allowance on. Mavis doted on her and, from what she’d seen of other families, everyone else looked upon their little siblings with contempt, despising the burden they dragged along with their existence.

But Mavis adored Lyn. When she'd been born, her mother had come home with a tiny thing bundled in pink fleece. Mavis had taken to Lyn on sight, thinking Lynette’s headband adorned with a baby blue bow was the universe’s way of telling her happy birthday! as reparations for the ones her mother had missed while she was enduring her week long stay at the hospital.

But that mindset was a disease, one that had finally caught up with her. Had Lynette not become her burden? She was nineteen, busting her back day and night so Lynette wouldn’t have to, that she might avoid the life that Mavis had lived in those blissful six years where it was her and her alone.

Had her mother not tampered down her birthday celebrations since Lynette’s was so very close and they couldn’t afford double anyway? Had Lynette not deprived her of the teenage experiences she heard her classmates speak of, going out and tasting alcohol for the first time while Mavis followed a ten year old Lynette house to house so she could complain of a stomach ache after she’d devoured all the candy on the walk back home?

And now this! Stealing her few precious items, the few things she bothered to save up for, few things she bothered to keep hidden. For what? It wasn’t as though she was ever going to have the courage to ask a peer of her’s out. She was a thief.

One Mavis had made the mistake of taking care of. She should’ve embraced those stirrings of resentment, should’ve left Lynette to her own devices since Lynette didn’t appreciate anything, or even half of what Mavis afforded her. She should’ve left her out in the cold that Christmas. How could anyone have known? It wasn’t as though corpses could talk--

She had let Lyn take off with the whole case, as if to remind herself when she woke up the next morning what she had considered, how vile the thought was.

Lyn had never done anything unforgivable to Mavis. Mavis didn’t suppose she ever could. It was no fault of Lyn’s she didn’t understand what it was like to live with their father. How could she? It was a topic off limits to Lyn by both Mavis and their mother. After all, a child born blind doesn’t know until it’s pointed out to them.

And yet, she found guilt hard to summon. She did, but the speed at which it came, the strength, made her uneasy. What had happened to the girl she was? Lyn had been her world. What had changed?

Then, dully, that other voice, entirely of its own volition, said You did.