#hoping this will make me focus on some of the half-written fics dying in my docs

[nokomiss]

prompts open!

I'm opening up for prompts again! Last time I managed to answer them all (Yay!!) so I'm hoping I can do that again, and the added pressure of knowing someone is waiting on it helped motivate me to write! (it's been a crazy year y'all.) So if there's something you'd like to see me write, send me a character/pairing and a prompt!

[walkawaytall]

Fic masterlist

Last updated 2023/12/22.

Thought I’d create a masterlist of my fanfic for future reference. This’ll also include details about posting schedules wherever they apply. Literally everything I write at this point is Original Trilogy Star Wars stuff with a fairly heavy focus on Han/Leia. I’m open to suggestions/prompts, but I make zero promises.

Series

In-progress

Purpose of Heritage ao3 | ffn Currently 16 parts, 143277 words and counting I’ll be honest, I have no idea how many parts this is going to be as I am updating more or less as I write. It’s a tight third-person account of how Leia went from a displaced princess at the end of A New Hope to a legit military leader in The Empire Strikes Back. The angst is strong in this one, but I promise I try to lighten things up every now and again. If you like longer chapters, you’re in luck because these keep clocking in in the 8K-9K range. The next planned update is slated for Friday, December 29, 2023.

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Perspectives ao3 | ffn Currently 3 part, 7048 words

So, this isn't really a series exactly, but I don't know where else to put it. It's a companion piece to Purpose of Heritage, and currently just has the first half of chapter one from Han's POV. The intent is for it to be a landing place for perspectives other than Leia's for select events in Purpose of Heritage, but I have no strict plans for this. It's just going to be updated as I have ideas.

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Untitled Vader Knows About Leia AU Through a series of unfortunate events, Darth Vader discovers that Leia Organa is his child when she's 11 years old. He wants to spend time with her. Bail and Breha allow supervised visits for their own purposes of attempting to get more information about the inner workings of the Empire.

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Complete

Collateral ao3 | ffn 11 parts (10 chapters and an epilogue), 51135 words An Ord Mantell story in which I attempt to answer the question “What is everyone’s damage at the beginning of The Empire Strikes Back?” because everyone (okay, let’s get real, I’m mainly talking about Han and Leia) just existing with that sort of emotional turmoil and vitriol for one another without a concrete cause makes zero sense. Obviously no one has ever done this before. I’m very unique and special. (See? I can make the jokes. But...uh, I legitimately think my take is a solid one? I’m allowed to say that, right?) Also, the epilogue makes this not a total downer, hooray!

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Hearthstide ao3 | ffn 3 parts, 15468 words Life Day is approaching and Leia needs the celebration to be perfect. Han discovers there might be more to her fixation on the holiday than meets the eye. A holiday-themed story about grief, loss, love, and rebuilding.

Written for @yearoftheotpevent - December prompt: holidays together.

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Han Solo/Leia Organa Drabble Collection ao3 | ffn 4 parts, 400 words A collection of drabbles I wrote for Tumblr using prompts chosen from a list by followers. All center on Han Solo/Leia Organa.

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One-Shots

In-progress - titles are subject to change

Working title: Someday A missing scene from Leia's POV set in the holding cell in Cloud City.

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Working title: Macabre Post-war Han and Leia have an unusual way of dealing with some of the trauma they've experienced: creating their own holidays to celebrate every time they should have died and managed not to.

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Complete

Tell Your Sister ao3 | ffn 1731 words Yeah, so I rewatched The Return of the Jedi over Christmas and Anakin’s final words really sunk in and I realized just how heinous they are in context for Leia, so this is me working my baggage with that detail of the film out. It’s loosely from Han’s POV, but focuses on Leia and Luke discussing Anakin’s dying words with Leia reacting in a manner I personally feel is appropriate given the circumstances. It’s meant to be fairly light-hearted. Don’t take it too seriously. But also, even redeemed Anakin Skywalker sucks.

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Fleeting Infatuation ao3 | ffn 1836 words This started because I wrote a scene for Purpose of Heritage that I really like, but I ended up killing the subplot that would lead to it, so I set out to write a one-shot that would lead to it instead, wrote this, and...this doesn’t even include the aforementioned scene. It just turned into its own thing. It’s set during a nebulous Hoth time period. Leia realizes how annoying it is to have a crush on Han Solo. That’s it. That’s the fic.

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Served Cold ao3 | ffn 3216 words Written using the @yearoftheotpevent January 2023 prompt “snow”. Han really hates snow, Leia tries to fix that using questionable methods. Han eventually gets over himself. Mostly fluff, minor angst.

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Presumptuous Man ao3 | ffn 1631 words Written using the @yearoftheotpevent February 2023 prompt "If I kiss you, will you shut up?". Han is concussed during a mission and has made that Leia’s problem. Virtually zero stakes, mostly fluff, I’m 99% sure there is a better ending buried deep in my brain using the repeated phrase “pick your battles”, but I got tired of trying to end this thing, so I called it done.

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Speak Louder ao3 | ffn 1960 words Written using the @yearoftheotpevent March 2023 prompt “acceptance”. Luke has literally never seen Leia and Han apologize to one another, and he doesn’t know how that’s possible. Fluff and minor angst, but mainly fluffy friendship slice-of-life nonsense.

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Reconstitution ao3 | ffn 2067 words Written using the @yearoftheotpevent April 2023 prompt “peace”. This fic has everything: post-ROTJ adjusting-to-post-war-life feelings, Han and Leia taking a painting class together because they both need hobbies, present tense for some reason, a metaphor involving dehydrated rations, a general vibe that I’m going to refer to as “casually poignant angst”. I’m not sure what I did here, but I do actually like it.

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Opportunistic ao3 | ffn 3550 words Written using the @yearoftheotpevent May 2023 prompt "Who are you?" Leia in the moments before freeing Han from carbonite in Jabba's palace. I don't know what this is considered stylistically, but there's angst, there's flashbacks, there's Han Solo almost crying, and there's me, adamant that Leia releasing Han from carbonite the way she did could not have been Plan A or probably even Plan G. Girly went rogue, I swear.

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All The Voices ao3 | ffn 2138 words Post-ROTJ fluff. Pregnancy causes Leia's bad dreams to get worse. The solution? A nighttime routine involving Han telling ridiculous bedtime stories to their unborn child. This is for a Reddit prompt challenge using the trope "Silence, you fool!"

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Spiral Together ao3 | ffn 4666 words Pre-ESB nonsense. Some of the Rogues think that Han and Leia are in a fight and refuse to go on a mission with them until they make up. Which they take it upon themselves to facilitate. By locking them in a room together. Rightfully tagged with "Hoth Turns The Rogues Into Feral Space Raccoons".

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Reactive ao3 | ffn 2405 words So, once I found out that it's canon that the Tantive IV was captured because of a faulty hyperdrive motivator, I have thought about the fact the Leia must have been panicking leaving Hoth. Like, a lot. And as someone who's had more than one panic attack in my moderately short life on this planet, I decided to explore that a bit and this happened. It's a little mushy, but what hurt/comfort fic isn't, amiright?

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Confirmed by Sources Close to the Subject ao3 | ffn 3910 words Written using the @yearoftheotpevent June 2023 prompt: "You aren't what I expected." When Han returns to base with a new biography in hand, Leia is horrified to discover who the subject of the book is. Crack-adjacent, friendship/romance, fluff/angst.

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Fortitude ao3 | ffn 2610 words "I've never done one of those 5+1 Things fics. I should try that." -me, like twenty-four hours ago

Five times Leia Organa lost everything and one time she didn't.

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Nemesis ao3 | ffn 2688 words Everyone thinks Wilhuff Tarkin is exaggerating when he calls Princess Leia Organa his nemesis, but soon he'll have proof that she isn't what she presents herself to be.

So, awhile ago, I made this Tumblr post that imagined a world in which Wilhuff Tarkin declared a teenage girl his nemesis à la Jack Donaghy from 30 Rock, and then madame_alexandra commented specifically referencing the episode of 30 Rock called "Game Over", and five weeks later, my brain created this.

This is the dumbest thing I have ever written.

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Terrified Without You ao3 | ffn 6818 words Han and Leia end up stuck in a crevasse together on Hoth after being in an argument about...well, Leia can't remember what exactly. With no way out and comms not working, all they can do is sit, wait, and try to survive.

Vague Hoth-era time period. Pre-The Empire Strikes Back.

Written for the @yearoftheotpevent - July prompt: Stars.

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Every Version of You ao3 | ffn 2872 words Leia prepares herself for the aftermath of revealing her parentage to Han. My take on the Leia Tells Han About Vader conversation that must've happened post-ROTJ. It's mushy, it's angsty, it's all the things it's supposed to be, I think.

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So, Now I Have to Destroy Them ao3 | ffn 3766 words Han Solo wasn't invited to join in a game of Bounty Hunter -- not that he cares. But everything changes when a certain princess asks for aid during the final hours of the game.

Vague Hoth time period when people aren't yelling at each other.

Written for the @yearoftheotpevent - August prompt: “You’re The Only One I Could Turn To For Help”.

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Brief Shadow ao3 | ffn 764 words Shortly before the move to a brand new base, Leia grieves.

Written for Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2023 Day One prompts: Anniversary/Memory.

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A Billion Ways to Die in Space ao3 | ffn 994 words When Leia's mission runs late, Han worries.

Written for Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2023 Day Two prompt: Reunion.

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Theories ao3 | ffn 1415 words Reeling from the escape from Hoth, Leia considers the possible reasons Han has decided to leave the Alliance. AUish I guess because I headcanon that Han and Leia's first kiss definitely happened before that one in the circuitry bay.

Written for Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2023 Day Three prompt: Rescue.

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The Short Stick ao3 | ffn 4985 words I started thinking about Main Character Syndrome and how, in so many pieces of fiction involving episodic adventures, it has got to be exhausting for the non-main-characters to just exist alongside these people, so I wrote a fic from the perspective of a character who barely knows Han, Leia, and Chewie as she’s forced to accompany them on a supply run featuring a definitely-not-Alliance-approved sidequest. This is all during Bickering URT Hoth Days and is written from the perspective of a character who technically exists in canon but has very little established about her in general (Samoc Farr).

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Far Too Violently, Far Too Long ao3 | ffn 7329 words Leia keeps a journal of letters to Han while he is frozen in carbonite. Later on, Han finds it.

Written for @yearoftheotpevent - September prompt: "I wrote this for you."

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Entirely Shattered ao3 | ffn 983 words So, thanks to this Tumblr post, I noticed for the first time ever that someone appears to be working on top of the Millennium Falcon while Leia is handing out orders right before the Battle of Hoth and also said someone appears to stop what they're doing to watch her as she speaks before starting their work up again. So. Uh. This is that moment. And making it fit a prompt required a bit of stretching, but I feel like it still works :D.

A vignette written for @yearoftheotpevent - October prompt: Lightning.

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Intentions ao3 | ffn 3635 words Luke pulls the brother card when asking about Han's intentions with Leia. A lot of irritated ridiculousness ensues. This started as a sort of twist on the interpretation of a "meeting the family" prompt, but I don't know what it is now.

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Just Tauntauns ao3 | ffn 4799 words Princess Leia has hidden on a closed Millennium Falcon with Han Solo three days in a row while Echo Base is in lockdown. The Rogues are obsessed with what this may or may not mean, and Wes Janson takes it upon himself to dig up the truth.

Absolute Echo Base nonsense. If you want to get picky, this is technically canon divergent, though no one can prove it didn't happen.

Written for @yearoftheotpevent - November prompt: Secret relationship (reveal)

[airiat]

snippets someday~

Rules:

Revisit an old fic (or earlier chapters of your current WIP) and share a snip from: - Your first chapter - Your favorite chapter - Your most challenging chapter Alternatively, if you don't write longfic, feel free to share your one-shots. Provide as much or as little commentary as you want.

i see u @mareenavee and ur gentle nudge for me to talk about a certain raggedy ol' fic of mine 😏

under the cut for snippets from Lead Me Not into Temptation

First Chapter: Outlander

The ashen air blows dust into my lungs as I step off the ship. Gjalund, the Nord who gave me passage to this island, speaks to me as I start to walk down the dock--something about him hoping I can find out what is going on around here--but I pay him little mind. My foreign surroundings take up far too much of my attention for conversation.

It is early morning, and the rising sun paints the sky a yellow that seems almost unnatural. To the right, I can see a large edifice built with the Imperial architecture of Cyrodiil, but in front of me, further back, is a tiered building constructed of sloping lines that look almost like the shell of an insect. The grounds are coated in grey ash, with a path forged through it to the town. The few trees that stand are dead and snapped in half, or layered in so much ash that they may as well be. Beyond everything and out into the sea, I can see Red Mountain spraying its contents into the sky, unending.

-

there's not one bit of me convinced i would write this opening in even remotely the same way now--same words, same scene, same attention to detail. no, it'd be very, very different. these days, i stay away from heavy description, focus instead on building a strong atmosphere for the reader to build their own visuals into. you can't make someone see things exactly the way you do. you may as well lean into that and save the words for something more important. still, i think i stand by this opening. it does the job.

Favorite Chapter: 21 - Truth at Any Cost

“C’mere,” I say to him.

Teldryn gets up from his seat hesitantly, some restrained emotion pulled over his face. He comes to stand before me, and I rise to him. My arms are around him before I can even realize what I’m doing, my face buried in the crook of his neck. He relaxes into me, holds me to him, his hand running gently through my hair. I surprise myself; I don’t cry. It’s like he has fortified me, passed his strength on to me.

“You are so much stronger than you know, Fjoara,” he murmurs. “Everything you need you already have.”

I pull back to meet his eyes. “I have you.”

Teldryn exhales, leans forward, his forehead against mine. “You do, indeed.”

His warm breath fanning over my face, his hands steady on my back, his lips, full and soft, a whisper away from my own. The world grows silent as I close my eyes and press my lips against his. When he kisses me back, it’s as if time has returned to when dragons are still nothing but myth and Miraak is only a name eroded by lost memories.

What shape does fear take? I’ve forgotten. All I know now is the vastness of eternity, the moons, and all the stars in the sky. I hold them here in my arms.

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now this is what i'm talking about! right here!! this shit slaps! i couldn't have written it any better. i mean i think maybe the dialogue could maybe benefit from a little bit of fiddling with but yeah anyway good fucking shit

Most Challenging Chapter: 17 - To Climb Mountains

The dragon’s flight is weak, dipping and flailing through the air. The end of this battle approaches.

I position myself beneath the dragon and lift my head to the sky, shouting Unrelenting Force with a might like I never thought myself capable of having. My Thu’um pummels against his dying body, knocking him against the harsh, unforgiving stone of Saering’s Watch. As Kaalkriluth crumples to the ground with a groan of agony and a spray of gravel, I sprint towards him and vault up onto the back of his neck. In one smooth motion, I pull Dawnbreaker from its scabbard and plunge the blade into the top of his head, dragging it back to create a deep, mortal wound. In a plume of enchanted fire, the Daedric weapon slides through the skull with little more resistance than a boat’s oar through water.

With my final blow, I can feel the dragon’s life force slacken. While the last bit of his breath shudders out from him, I lean forward onto the pommel of my sword still embedded into his head, closing my eyes in wait of what I know happens next.

I don’t have to see it. I only need to hear the crackle of Kaalkriluth’s body incinerating below me to know that I have managed this feat. As I feel the storm of his soul rushing into me, the thousands of years of his life unravel in my mind until it nestles amongst my own memories, my own stories, my own thousands of nights of dreams. I am scorched painfully raw with the new power I can scarcely handle, but for a moment I can almost feel my Dovah’s wings unfurling at my sides. Only once everything has quieted, do I open my eyes, the wetness of the tears that rim them stinging in the cold air. Below me, Kaalkriluth is nothing but bones.

-

i don't like writing action. this is no big secret. having to write a character walking around in a room sends me into mortal peril. it's hard. i don't always know how little i can get away with saying. if i could write a story of nothing but dialogue and my purple prose i would do just that. but here we are. we're writing an epic battle with a dragon. oookayy. this was a very hard chapter to write. i'm fairly sure i began it and then put it aside for a long time because i was so overwhelmed. let me be frank.

it's easy for me to write. i wouldn't be doing it if it wasn't. i'm quite sure that i could write anything that i wanted to, if i wanted to bad enough. anything. so here's this dragon battle. i wrote it. what's hard is when i have to stop and think about how i need to write something. when i have to be very deliberate. when it feels like i have to choreograph something rather than let it flow from me. this chapter is like a night at the ballet, with dancers and their bloody feet hidden by pristine satin shoes; the rest of my work is the break of dawn at a club in, like, berlin.

this chapter is different. it succeeds. it has merit. but it's not me, ultimately. i've written another fantasy story since lmnit and in that story, my character doesn't even so much as draw a dagger. i like it better that way. writing a tes fanfic shoehorned me into needing to write dense action. i'll never do it again. probably.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Lie To Me

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Rated: Gen Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Lee, Michael, Luke Luke loves camp. Luke betrayed them. It should be impossible for both of those things to be true, but somehow they were. This was a fic written for @pod-together and my podficcer partner for the event was the amazing @stereden, who also happens to be an author I've admired in another fandom for some time! I've never been involved in an event like this before; writing something specifically to be podficced was a new and interesting experience. Working with stereden on this was amazing; we both knew we wanted to do something with Lee and/or Michael, and from there everything just seemed to fall into place. Lee's truth-sensing ability is a headcanon of mine that I'm particularly attached to, so I'm delighted stereden was happy to play in this sandpit with me! You can find the podfic to listen to here (go, listen to it! It's amazing!)

Lee is there when Percy’s brought in, shivering and sweating and dying.  He’s the head of Apollo cabin, head of the healers, of course he’s there.  He doesn’t know what’s happened, why their young hero, this son of Poseidon who stopped a war, is dying, but that doesn’t matter.  Not right then.  What matters is that Percy Jackson is dying, that there’s poison in his veins, and that nothing Lee can do is helping.

It's Chiron who saves the younger boy, Chiron who knows things Lee could never hope to learn, and he leaves the infirmary in the centaur’s capable hands while Annabeth rushes in.  It’s disquieting, that something happened to Percy, but the forest has monsters in it and Lee puts it out of his mind.

He has other things to do, other responsibilities to focus on.  It’s the end of summer; come morning most of his half-siblings will leave and as the head of the cabin, he has to make sure everyone’s packed up and isn’t going to leave anything they’re going to miss behind.  He has half-siblings to say goodbye to, too, the ones that are off to college in fall.  Percy will live.  Lee has a cabin to corral.

Come dawn, the rumour mill is rife, and Lee doesn’t want to believe any of it.  They believe what they’re saying , he reminds himself when his inbuilt lie detector (thanks, Dad) doesn’t react to any of the words.  It’s a limit of his ability – if the speaker believes their words, it’s a truth to them, so it’s a truth to Lee.  That has to be what’s happening here, never mind that there isn’t a single lie in camp, not one person who doesn’t believe what they’re saying, and that never happens.

Never mind that Luke – Luke, Lee’s close friend, the older boy who always treated him like a peer, like a brother, who Lee has always trusted with all his might because Luke has never lied to him – is missing.  Gone, without a trace in the night, and it’s Luke that the rumours are about.

Luke was the Lightning Thief, he hears from Chris Rodriguez, and something sounds a lot like admiration in his voice.  Chris is unclaimed, but everyone knows he must be a Hermes kid, and if there’s anyone who’d be impressed at a theft, it’s a child of the god of thieves.

Luke let the hellhound into camp, he hears Malcolm Pace explain to one of the other cabin six kids, fully believing his own words and having them taken as gospel by his half-sibling.

Luke tried to kill Percy, Annabeth Chase keeps saying, her voice wavering in betrayal but conviction in the words.  Out of everyone, she’s the most surprising.  Lee loves Luke but Annabeth loves Luke, worships the ground the son of Hermes walks on.  The fact that she isn’t lying about this steals the breath from Lee’s lungs.  He summoned a Pit Scorpion.

The truth of those words marries with the injury Lee saw on the son of Poseidon, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.  Lee doesn’t know who the source of these rumours is, but he knows Annabeth was with Percy when Percy woke.  He knows she’s a reliable source, that she’d never defame Luke without proof.

He prays there’s a misunderstanding somewhere.  Maybe Luke was the one to defend Percy, maybe the younger demigod was too delirious to make sense of what was happening.  He clings to that shred of hope because it’s all he has and it makes so much more sense than Luke betraying them.  Luke loves them, loves camp and all the demigods within it.  He’s told Lee that, so many times, and there was never a lie in his words.

Luke can’t have betrayed them.

Lee’s world shatters at dinner, once the summer campers are all gone and only the handful of year rounders remain.  The year rounders are closer to each other out of necessity; they live together full time so they have to be.  It makes the stark absence of Luke and Annabeth stand out all the more – Luke hasn’t come back, and Annabeth decided to go to her father.  Maybe she couldn’t stand being in camp with all the rumours about Luke floating around.  Lee can’t stand it, either, but he has nowhere else to go and there’s still five other Apollo kids who need him.

“Luke joined the Crooked One,” Chiron announces gravely, and the absence of a lie sears Lee.  He can’t believe it but he has to, because Chiron isn’t lying, and Chiron would never say something so accusatory without definitive proof.

If Chiron says it, it must be the truth, not a belief, and Lee’s world crumbles apart around his ears.

No-one is lying.  He listens intently to conversations, eavesdropping like a nosey Aphrodite kid, but his senses never go off, no matter what he hears.  Truth, truth, truth.  All he hears are truths and his hands are shaking as he leads his cabin to bed that night.

Luke never lied to him, but Luke betrayed them, and those two facts cannot go hand in hand.  No-one is lying now, when a camp full of teenagers is so full of lies Lee sometimes has to put on headphones and shut out the world before he explodes.

He doesn’t sleep.  The lights go out and the rest of them crash out in their bunks the same way they do every night, but Lee can’t sleep because his hands are still trembling and his heart is in his throat.  Why is no-one lying?  How was Luke honest and deceitful at the same time?

It’s been over a day since Lee last sensed a lie and his blood is freezing over because what if he’s lost his ability?  What if he’s surrounded by lies that he’s taking as truths because the thing that warns him is broken?

Sobs burst from his throat, loud in the silence of the sleeping cabin, echoing in his ears and overpowering soft breathing from his half-siblings.  This is too much for him; he’s fifteen, one of his friends betrayed them, his ability is broken – he’s broken.

Children of Apollo don’t stir at night, so Lee pays no heed to how loudly he’s hiccupping and shattering because he won’t wake anyone anyway.

The small hand on his shoulder is a surprise.

It’s too dark to see; Lee’s night vision has always been terrible and he isn’t turning any lights on, so he doesn’t know who it is, but their fingers are digging in like a vice and he might have an idea.

“I’m going to kill him.”  The words are spoken quietly but the venom in them could rival the Pit Scorpion.  It doesn’t feel like a lie, either.

Michael is not the one to go to for comfort.  His younger half-brother is small but vicious, brutally honest and refuses to back down.  Lee knows exactly who he’s talking about, because Michael’s response to betrayal is to lash out.  His response to most things is to lash out.

As his cabin counsellor, Lee should be calming him down, steering him away from his aggressive output and encouraging him to direct it more productively, but it’s the middle of the night and Lee isn’t cabin counsellor right now.  He’s Lee, he’s shattered into pieces, and Michael’s anger can wait until morning.

He cries harder, sobs tearing themselves out of him mercilessly, and his bunk dips as a bristling Michael clambers up to sit on the edge of the mattress.  “I hate him,” the dark haired son of Apollo snarls vehemently.  There’s still no trace of a lie.  “What the Hades does he think he’s doing?”

Lee makes a wild grab in the dark for his half-brother, finding something that feels like a limb, maybe a thigh, and clings on as tightly as Michael’s still gripping his shoulder.  If they weren’t sons of Apollo, they’d be bruised in the morning.

Michael isn’t big on being touched without permission but he doesn’t protest as Lee claws his way into something that might be called upright, keeping hold of his half-brother the whole time.

There’s a thought in Lee’s head, and it’s the middle of the night so he doesn’t think it all the way through before his mouth is open and words are falling out.  “Lie to me,” he croaks through a throat that’s sore from crying.

Michael pauses.  The muscles in his thigh flex in surprise and Lee doesn’t know what he’s thinking but he knows he is thinking.  Lee’s own thoughts are continuing on their train wreck, and it’s just starting to dawn on him that there’s no good answer to his silent question when the other boy speaks again.

It sounds like a truth.  It’s something Lee has no way of knowing if it’s true or not without his ability and he’s grateful but also wants to curse Michael for it.  For knowing, somehow, what’s going through Lee’s head, what Lee’s testing.

It’s a lie.  It runs through him, sharp and prickly against his spine, and impossibly he’s crying harder because it means he’s not broken, but it hurts so, so much.

Lee doesn’t know why it didn’t work on Luke.  He doesn’t know how Luke managed to hide so much from him, how every word out of the son of Hermes’ mouth registered as true, but he knows that Luke knows about his ability, one of the few Lee trusted with the knowledge, and used it against him.

He wails, head falling until it meets the top of Michael’s head, his body wracked with more sobs.  Michael doesn’t pull away, but he curses Luke out in a mixture of Ancient Greek and English in a never-ending tirade and Lee’s too hollow, too shattered, to do anything but cry.

[1025cherrystreet]

funeral

y/n attends a funeral and feels hopeless after losing her best friend until she meets her late bsf's cousin Harry.

a/n: this is for @harrystylescherry​ Playlist Fic Challenge!!! this is inspired by the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. i used the name Phoebe in the story but i wasn't picturing Phoebe Bridgers when I was writing that character, i just liked the name and decided to go with it! but, y'all can picture her however y'all like lol. i went from loving this story to hating it, but i hope y'all like it! any feedback is appreciated!! <3

**despite it being surrounded by depressing matters, it's actually a cute and fluffy story lol! just wanted to point that out because i, myself, kinda avoid reading sad stories

warnings: a LOT of talk about death and dying and funerals, mentions depression/depressive episode?, mentions drugs and alcohol, swearing. i'm ceo of rushing the ending, soz <3 (also, gave up on proofreading lmao)

word count: 8k+ (this is the longest piece i've ever written lol)

Y/N has this dream. Where she's screaming underwater while her friends are waving at her from the shore. She's desperately calling for them, hoping and waiting for them to help, but, seemingly, her friends can't hear... and can't help. Submerged beneath the thrashing waters, her wails fall silent; her familiars deaf to her pleads. The more she struggles to get to the surface for air, the deeper she sinks. Her friends just waving at her as she drifts to the bottom. Every time she jolts awake from these dreams in a sweat stained bed and sticky clothes, she decides to brush it off. Not wanting to think about the problems she needs to face or what she needs to work on. Always concluding that she doesn't need anyone to tell her what it means or overanalyze her life through misplaced visions. Deciding to not believe assumptions made from vague, painful pictures.

As the familiar sinking feeling in her chest starts yet again, Y/N snaps her eyes up at the casket as the sound of her best friend's mother releasing a heart wrenching sob catches her focus.

The contrast of the white roses that lay on top of Phoebe's mahogany stained casket almost glow in the evening light, seeming like a mock to such a somber evening. The way the living looks so effervescent and bright, casting shadows on the less fortunate. The dead never celebrated in such light but rather mourned in dim grief and sadness.

Y/N doesn't like funerals, and not just because her best friend of 10 years is the recipient of this one. She's never cared for them. Believing they're just an excuse to get over the one they are to be honoring, they carry a stigma that everyone in attendance has to cry or you're seen as heartless, while the people who were never close to the deceased are presumed fake for showing emotion. Y/N thinks they're a big joke... with a cruel, cruel punchline.

The sound of despondent music playing and cries ring throughout the cemetery as Phoebe's casket is lowered six feet into the ground. The unchecked emotions start to boil inside of Y/N. Anger boiling deep inside of her quickly reaching its point, anger that stems from betrayal, that stems from hurt, that stems from...loss. She quietly scoffs, shaking her head with a stone cold look, before quickly getting up and walking away from the ceremony as her late friend's uncle, Bill, wraps up his poor excuse of a eulogy.

Phoebe wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people to cry over her casket, stuck laying in a padded box while people who don't even know the real her, speak of her existence like they were the best of friends. They weren't. She was. Y/N was her best friend. These people don't... didn't know her like Y/N does. It's all bullshit.

In Y/N's quick pace away from the tent around the damp open ground, she spots a bigger gravestone with a stone bench built into it and takes a seat.

She inhales deeply, taking a moment to herself to look up at the sky. The clouds that overcast part of the blue sky drifting farther away from the graveyard as the sun starts making its way to set. She breathes in, the delightful scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass filling her nose before it's tainted by fumes of petrol from the road just on the other side of the cemetery gates behind her. It's so unfair; why of all people did Phoebe have to-

"It's all a joke," A deep accent says to her left.

She almost jumps out of her seat when she turns to the man who took the empty spot next to her. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did he come from? she thinks to herself. He had brown curly hair and green eyes (well, thinking green from what she can gather staring at the side of his face), wearing a black suit with a black button up shirt underneath. Rings clad his fingers and the sunset gleam shines off his cross necklace. She stares wide-eyed at him for a few moments before shaking her head to get out of her daze.

"Huh?" She says when she realizes he had spoken before.

"It's all a big joke," He repeats himself, the British accent more noticeable this time around. His head faced towards the funeral, having not spared a glance at her once this whole time.

She settles back into her seat, shifting her gaze to match his with the group of mourning people in the distance.

"Yeah." Y/N sighs in agreement.

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Y/N decides to speak. Thinking to herself that if anyone would listen to her thoughts, a man who's also ditching the shitty eulogy would be her best bet.

"They all talk about her as if she was God." She chuckles humorlessly.

He scoffs with a small smirk, "Far from it."

Another wave of silence crashes over them, before Y/N breaks it once again.

"She would've hated this," She whispers, "People she barely even knows crying over her like they had any significance in her life. She probably only talked to five people here. She didn't even like her uncle." She laughs, referencing the man who gave the half-assed eulogy about how Phoebe being such an innocent, bright young girl.

"They're grieving her loss instead of celebrating her life, it's all fucked," He clears his throat before continuing, "Funerals are for the living."

"I hate funerals..." She says in reply.

Glancing at the boy beside her when she hears him digging through his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask.  He takes a sip, and another, before gesturing it to her. Not overthinking it too much, she takes the cool metal bottle and takes a big gulp. Tasting the burn of vodka in her throat and mint from what she supposes is the mysterious strangers mouth.

Handing the flask back she says, "She would've wanted a party. Something where everyone was having fun in her honor, not some substandard funeral full of random people and careless words."

This time he's the one who chuckles humorlessly, "Yeah, she would've wanted everyone t'take shots and dress up in fancy clothes n' wreak havoc on this fucking town,"

Y/N smiles at this because Phoebe really would. Phoebe was the type of person who everyone wanted to be friends with, but also who everyone was scared of. She was mysterious and intimidating (a bit like the man next to her, Y/N thinks). Phoebe was a master at persuasion and could get almost anyone to go on crazy fucking adventures with her. One of Y/N's favorite memories with Phoebe was when they dressed up in wedding dresses they had gotten from a second-hand store and walked down the street yelling random things at strangers, taking turns drinking tequila from a metal water bottle.

"She really was something else, huh?" Y/N says a bit somberly, reminiscing on her late best friend.

"Definitely, a know-it-all," He laughs, bringing the flask up to his mouth.

"Oh, of course, she always thought she was right." She smirks.

"I mean, most of the time she was." He shrugs.  

"Yeah, how did she always know everything?" The two of you laugh, taking turns drinking from the flask.

He shakes his head in disbelief, silence settling over the pair again.

"How did you know her?" He asks, still staring at the gathering of people in the distance.

"...She was my best friend," Y/N responds quietly, still staring out at the sunset.

He hums in return, "You?" She asks as she hands the flask over.

"Her cousin." His rough voice speaks out.

"You're Harry?" She says, less as a question and more in disbelief. Phoebe always mentioned her cousin Harry from England, always telling Y/N of stories they had together getting into reckless shit.

She turns her head to look at him just as he does, "And you're Y/N."

He offers a soft, knowing smile, both having heard countless stories of one another from Phoebe. He leans back and extends his arm on the top of the bench behind her, feeling the warmth of his body radiate off of him.

"I wonder what she'd say to me now. Sitting on a random gravestone in our hometown, drinking out of her cousin's flask, ditching what's supposed to be her remembrance." Y/N says, leaning back on the bench too.

"She would've said, 'quit y'crying, it's a sign of the times' and then would drag your arse t'the nearest pub." He laughs.

She joins in on the soft laughter, shaking her head because she knows that's exactly what she would've said. Phoebe was such a joy to be around, her presence unmatched.

"You know, she always talked about wanting to leave a legacy behind. Most of the time, I just laughed at her, thinking it was just another bizarre thing to come out of her mouth. But, she was always saying she wanted to be remembered as some enigma when she dies..." Y/N recalls the many memories of her and Phoebe staying up til 4am talking. Chills suddenly covering her body, not only from the cool Winter air but because of how Phoebe had talked about her death and now she's actually...dead.

She turns her head to look at Harry and he has a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I think she's accomplished that quite well, hasn't she?" He replies.

"How?" She questions softly with furrowed brows.

"Well, f'starters, her funeral is full of people who never even knew her, or frankly even cared about her, while two emotionless people just got up and stormed away from it t'drink vodka out of a flask on some random person's gravestone." He laughs before tacking on, "Trust me, the people over there are wondering who the hell she was and who she knew, right about now."

She turns her head from the (quite pretty, she thinks) boy to her left, looking at the wake, only to be met with a few people staring back at them.

"Well, I'll be damned," She scoffs. "Of course, the bitch did it." A smile bright on her face, probably the only real grin she's pulled since Phoebe's passing. Her best friends wishes coming true makes her heart warm just a tad, a relief to how cold losing her best friend made it.

"Always able t'make her life seem like an episode of Pretty Little Liars." He says shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

This comment makes Y/N laugh quite loudly, drawing a few — what she could only think were glares — back at her. Wiping a stray tear from her face that fell due to her laughing. The sweet sound coming from her lips only tacking on Harry to join her.

"Oh my god, she practically lived in an indie movie, always the role of the mysterious main character!" She chuckled out, creases forming at the corners of her eyes that Harry has taken a liking to.

As both of their laughter slowly dies out, another silence comes over them; only this time it's almost deafening. It's like the weight of the matter finally settled in.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, staring out at the never ending field of stone. Flowers accompany very few of the many graves; some wilted, some looking fresh, some long gone by now. Name placards littering the ground, all of these lost and forgotten people just decomposing underneath them. People coming and going to visit, only to be forgotten as time goes by, memories fading from their loved ones' mind. He wonders if he could ever forget Phoebe. No, I could never, he thinks to himself. He could never forget the only person that ever truly believed in him and embraced him for being himself.

Deciding he doesn't want to give anymore thought to the painful insight that one day he might forget Phoebe, he asks Y/N something instead.

"Y'wanna get out of here? M'starvin'."

The quiet girl next to him looks his way, his green eyes meeting her's that shine in the last few minutes of orange sunlight. Her eyes are so pretty, he tries to mentally shake that thought out of his head. He can't be hitting on his late cousin's best friend at her funeral, for fuck's sake.

Y/N only nods in response, gathering her bag and phone before standing from the bench. Harry towers over her when he gets up and the observation of how tall her his makes Y/N feel all giddy inside for some reason. Placing the flask back in his suit jacket pocket, he leads the way to a small restaurant nearby. She walks beside him the whole way there, the two of them just quietly observing everything around them.

***

The crisp, cool air passes through, goosebumps creeping up their arms as they sit in the outside seating of a small restaurant. Comfortable silence wraps them up and spits them out as their minds explore all the vast depths of their troubled minds, giving them time for their treacherous thoughts to eat at their sanity bit by bit.

"Phoebe told me once," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling from not using it. Harry's green eyes moved to her from his observance of the lonely street they're next to as she spoke softly. "She told me the only time she truly felt alive was when she made decisions that were reckless and spontaneous. She said living her life precariously was the only reason for her happiness, claiming that the perfect life is just an illusion. That dreaming of labor should not be the goal, but instead becoming your authentic self and living with no regrets..."

Harry stays quiet, reflection in his eyes as he stares at her from across the table, chewing the food in his mouth. Y/N plays around with the food on her plate with her fork and waits for his acknowledgment (although, she doesn't even know if he would say or do anything -- she doesn't know why she decided to tell him that)

"I mean, she's right, righ'? I never understood when people would ask what your 'dream job' is from a young age. No one's dream is t'work everyday 'til they die. They have to, t'make a living and survive, but what's the point in living if you aren't enjoyin' it. But, if y'workin' all the time, how do you make the time to really live?" He says, furrowing his brows as he talks.

Y/N takes in his words. The moonlight and street lamps casting a soft glow on his face, his carved features looking even more beautiful at night.

"Yeah... I guess, I guess I just envy how she viewed life, ya know?" She states, looking at the cars drive by as she tries to explain how she feels. "Always saying things to make you rethink your existence and purpose..." She looks back at Harry and whispers, "...She talked about life so much like she knew she was going to die."

"Well, we're all gonna die eventually." Harry rests his arms on the table with a quiet sigh, his features passive, but his mind is thinking of how he just wants to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Yeah, but she just...she talked about it like she knew all the answers. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it. Sometimes, I feel like she was telling everyone around her how to live in complete happiness because she knew she didn't have much of her own, despite convincing everyone she was carefree and unbothered." Y/N shrugs and watches as they fall into a short silence.

"...I miss her." Harry breathes out after a moment, reaching his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin is soft against his as he rubs his thumb against her hand in an attempt to comfort both of them.

Her eyes soaking in his softened expression, her cherry tinted lips whispering, "Me too."

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, the only sounds reverberating from the road with the occasional car or pedestrian. Harry pays for the food, but not without many protests from Y/N.

As the two walk side by side down the street, back to the cemetery to pick up their cars, Y/N suddenly falls anxious. She doesn't want to be alone tonight, scared of being alone with her thoughts when she goes back to stay in her childhood home. Her parents, still living in the house they lived in since her youth, had to drive up to another town for a few nights to stay with her cousins because they planned to go there before the news broke about Phoebe. Leaving Y/N alone in the empty house since there wasn't room for her at her cousins.

The black cemetery gates coming into view, eeriness and gloom becoming more apparent when the sun is down, Y/N and Harry can see their two cars sitting idly on the side of the road. Y/N fidgets with her fingers as they grow close to departure.

"D-do you, maybe, wanna hang out for a little while longer?" She turns to face him, looking up at him nervously. "I just don't want to be alone right now." She rushes out when he doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I didn't really want t'go home alone right now either." He offers a sliver of a smile before unlocking his car, grabbing two brown paper bags that look to hold bottles, and gesturing his head, "C'mon, we'll pick up my car later. Let's go celebrate Pheebz, yeah?" He grins.

She smiles at him, unlocking her own car and waiting for him to get in, putting on a playlist full of Phoebe's favorite songs. She drives through her hometown, memories stirring up of her and her best friend smoking weed in the park the summer before graduation and jumping in the lake naked in the middle of winter. The two end up at her house sitting in her abandoned driveway, both unbuckling but neither making the move to get out of the parked car, the engine still running as they sit listening to the melodies playing from the speaker.

Harry suddenly pulls out two bottles from the brown paper bags at his feet, one of vodka and the other tequila.

"Pick y'poison." He says with a smirk.

She picks the vodka and Harry mutters, "Good choice, tequila is more m'speed."

"Weren't you drinking vodka at the funeral?" She laughs, unscrewing the cap.

"Yeah, figured I'd drink Phoebe's favorite since it was her party." He chuckles.

"To Phoebe." Y/N says, sorrow lacing her voice as she turns in her seat to face Harry.

"To living your life precariously." He says before the two of them take a big gulp of the sharp liquid, starting what will only be the beginning of a long night.

***

Light shines through the white curtains, the room glowing bright in the soft, yellow sunlight. The white comforter tangled up in bodies as birds chirp in the morning tranquility. Y/N's eyes flutter open, immediately feeling sweaty and clammy. The headache that sets in reminds her of the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. Waking up in her childhood bed after blacking out in the backseat of her car the night before doing very little for her sanity.

As she lays in bed, groggy, she needs to pee. She moves to get up and walk to the bathroom connected to her room, only to freeze when an arm wraps around her and pulls her closer. Warm breathes pant at the back of her neck, unintelligible murmurs coming from the person behind her. Her eyes widen, realizing Harry is the one she is snuggling with in the early morning (afternoon?) light. Despite needing to pee really badly, she finds herself only melting into his touch. She can't remember the last time someone held her like this, can't remember the last time she felt this content. In fact, she thinks the last time she cuddled with someone was with Phoebe when she slept over in her room at their apartment... Well, just Y/N's apartment now.

Y/N and Phoebe would have movie nights in Y/N's room and in the midst of the fun, they would grow tired. Phoebe would never want to leave the comfort of Y/N's warm bed, so she always asked, sleepover?, with a wide grin. To which Y/N never refused and the two would put on The Notebook and fall asleep spooning one another. The first time it happened, when they were children having sleepovers, she tensed a bit; thinking it weird for her friend to cuddle her because no one had ever done that. But, as the years went by and their friendship grew stronger, knowing that despite both of them being bisexual it wasn't an act of intimacy, but one of platonic comfort.

So, Y/N figured (in her touch deprived mind) that this was just an act of friendly, platonic intimacy...nothing else. After coming to that conclusion, she let herself relax into his touch, his warm embrace nodding her off to sleep once again.

What wakes her up the second time is the sound of a gravelly voice groaning. The arm around her waist squeezes tightly before the body it's attached to tenses up. Harry tries to take in the position they're in -- his arm snuggling her close to his bare chest and legs intertwined with hers -- but his hangover headache clouds his mind too much to think about it. Only registering that he's never felt this comfortable with someone before, never felt someone so warm and cozy. He's cuddled lots of girls (and guys), has spent many mornings waking up in someones hold or holding someone in his, but they've never been as addicting as her. Never being so relaxing, so soft. He's about to just say, fuck it, and fall back asleep as to spend as much time with her in his clutch, but Y/N had stirred awake from his groaning and she really has to pee!

She slowly turns in his arms, their legs shifting apart, and is met with probably the cutest sight she's ever seen. His eyes are glassy and the green of his irises shine in the soft light. His lips pink and his face holding a hesitant look, like he thinks she might yell at him for accidentally ending up in his arms throughout the night, but she can also sense the underlying feeling of content reading on his face. The way his eyes soften when they meet hers and the way his hand involuntarily squeezes at her side. The serene feeling almost tangible as her childhood room becomes their own little world. All the responsibilities and pain of the outside fall ceased at the door decorated with heights of a growing Y/N.

"G'morning," His gravelly voice going straight to her heart, melting it at the beautiful sound.

"Good morning," She says in a raspy whisper, her throat dry from the alcohol and singing at the top of her lungs the night before.

She takes the quiet moment to look at his body, her gaze drifting from tattoo to tattoo, not realizing how many he has. She knew he had some from the ones on his hands yesterday, but she didn't know he had so many. His long sleeve button up had covered the view of the ones adorning his arms, but she looks at them now in awe, thinking how pretty they are.

She's about to tell him how much she likes the butterfly tattoo on his chest, when her bladder has other plans.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to pee," She bashfully smiles as she looks at him.

"Oh, m'sorry. Probably should've told ya' I'm a cuddler." He gives a small smile with embarrassment soaking his words, thinking he's made her uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Her eyes light up at his out of character shyness, "I am too, I just really have to go to the bathroom." The harmonious sound of her giggles soothing every worry in Harry's body.

He playfully sighs, "Fine, I guess I'll let y'go piss."

A smirk pulls at his lips as she rolls her eyes and gets up, but he can see the corners of her lips turn up.

She goes to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands. She takes the time to brush her teeth and wash her face, cringing when she looks in the mirror. She feels gross that she looked like this when Harry woke up with the resemblance of an angel.

When she's finished, she walks out back into her room, excited to get back into the warm bed (and hopefully cuddle with Harry some more, but she would never admit that out loud), but she's met with abandoned sheets and panic consumes her. Did he leave? Did I make him uncomfortable by waking up in his arms? He was the one to cuddle me and he joked about it! But maybe he was just trying to be nice so he could escape? Her mind starts to race a mile a minute of anxious thoughts before they're all suddenly wiped away at the smell of coffee wafting in from the open doorway.

She throws on a sweatshirt and socks and makes her way down the stairs of the familiar, yet foreign after spending so long away from home, house. Her sock clad feet pad on the hardwood floors as she walks into the kitchen, spotting Harry silently staring at a spot on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand (he's using the same pink and green mug with a little ceramic pig sitting on the top of the handle that Phoebe would use every time she'd sleepover in high school).

She walks in quietly, coming up behind him and grabbing a cup of coffee for herself, noticing the two pain killers next to the pot (which made her heart swell if she's honest). He had heard her coming down the stairs, but despite her presence his focus is still on the spot on the wall. Taking a sip of her pick-me-up and swallowing the pills, she takes up space next to Harry, following his eyes that stare intently at a picture frame hanging up and her eyes immediately soften.

"That was freshman year," Y/N spoke delicately, staring at the picture herself, "We had both been asked to prom by these senior guys. I was ecstatic because no one had ever shown any liking to me, but Phoebe had played it cool, of course." Harry lets out a quiet breathy laugh because of course Phoebe didn't care.

"We spent weeks planning out how prom night would be. Imagining how the senior parties would be like and if the boys would kiss us by the end of the night or not. She came over at 9am the morning of the dance and we spent all day getting ready and laughing with each other. She had even done my makeup all pretty and I helped her get into her dress. I remember I laughed when she decided she was going to wear converse under her dress, and she almost convinced me to do it too because she said 'you're not gonna be the one laughing when we're at all the after parties and your feet are killing you'." A genuine smile forms on Y/N's face as she reminisces on the cherished moment.

"But, two hours before the dance, our dates cancelled on us and told us they were going with these senior girls." Harry scoffs bitterly, understanding how cruel teenage boys are.

"I remember I was so upset because the one time I thought someone actually liked me or thought I was pretty enough to go to prom with, had just made me a second choice..." She recalls to Harry, who is now looking at the side of her face as she looks at the picture of Phoebe carrying Y/N on her back, piggy-back style, in long prom dresses, dirty white converse peaking out from under both girls' dresses.

"So, she grabbed me by the arms and looked me in the eyes and said 'Y/N L/N, we are deserving of the love we wish for. No senior boys are going to make us doubt that. We are not little freshmen girls who can be seen as cheap thrills and easy hookups. We are women, who demand respect and complete infatuation.' Then she took the tickets that the boys had pre-purchased for us, took my hand, and dragged me to that dance. We had been each other's date and made prom our bitch. She even got us into a party afterward...And we had one hell of a night."

She smiles fondly at the sweet memory. Harry's eyes flutter between the picture and the beautiful girl next to him. How could she ever think of herself as a second choice?, is all he can wonder to himself.

Letting his gaze fall to the picture one last time, he mumbles, "Well, those boys missed out on the best thing t'ever happen t'them."

He doesn't catch Y/N's blush that creeps up on her cheeks as he turns around, taking a sip from his little pig mug.

She shakes her head as to get out of the crushing haze she falls into, turning and walking to the countertop, leaning against it as Harry stands in front of her on the other side.

"Thank you. F'letting me stay the night, last night." He speaks up.

Y/N notices how he's still lacking a shirt, making her mouth dry up just a little at the sight of how fit he is. The tattoos stretching across his tan skin so perfectly, the black ink creating such a beautiful contrast on his body. He catches onto the not-so-subtle gawking and smirks.

"Uh, yeah. It's really no problem. There's no way I'd have let you drive home intoxicated and it was the least I could do after I made you practically spend the day with me." She blushes.

"Y'didn't make me," He shakes his head gently with a smile.

Y/N doesn't know to feel about how her cheeks heat up at his remark, shyly looking away as the teasing gleam in his eyes might make her combust.

"O-okay. Good to know." She squeaks out, the action only fueling Harry's ego and playful mood.

"I should go get m'car from the cemetery before it gets towed," He says almost disappointedly, like he doesn't want to leave yet. If she's being honest, she doesn't want him to leave yet either.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good. I'll give you a ride." She says, shaking off the saddened feeling of his departure.

"Oh, you don't have t'do tha'." He shakes his head but Y/N quickly shoots him down.

"Nonsense, I'll take you. It's no big deal."

He smiles at her objection, nodding, and going upstairs to grab the rest of his clothes, feeling uncomfortable in his dress pants from the funeral that he had put back on when he got up this morning, not wanting to make Y/N feel weird by staying in only his boxers.

***

Vodka Lover: hey... are you up?

She chews on the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit that Phoebe had always teased her about, as she sends the text to Harry (having exchanged numbers when she had dropped him off at his car at the cemetery). Phoebe had always said, 'You're not gonna have any thumb left to chew, babes, if you keep at it'. To which Y/N just rolled her eyes, but in the deafening silence of 4am, she wishes she cherished those moments with her best friend more. Wishing she didn't take for granted in those little encounters of Phoebe's care and concern with her well-being. Y/N would give anything to be able to spend one more minute with her.

Butterfly Boy: yeah, everything okay?

Vodka Lover: um, can i call you?

Suddenly, breaking the bitter quiet with a ringtone, her phone she holds in her palm lights up with Harry's contact. A tear falls from her face onto the screen and she has to wipe it away before she presses accept.

"Y/N?" Harry's deep voice rings out, laced in worry, from the other line.

She chokes out a sob, not being able to hold it back anymore. The floodgate of her emotions she has been trying to keep at bay suddenly burst. Salty tears fall onto the blue fluffy blanket from her senior year she's wrapped up in.

"Hey, hey, s'everythin' okay? What's wrong?" Harry says, more alert now that he hears her in such a fragile and frantic state.

Y/N just cries harder, desperately trying to catch her breath, she feels like she's suffocating.

"Hey, love, just breathe. Just breathe, Y/N." He tries to coax her down in a soothing voice.

A raggedy breath is heard on Harry's side, making the worry dissipate just a little now that he knows she's breathing. Harry sits up in his bed, calling out to Y/N, repeatedly telling her to just keep breathing. He can't get to what's wrong if she hyperventilates.

He was laying restless in his bed when she had texted, lost in thoughts of life and replaying memories with his cousin. Trying to grasp everything she's ever told him before, hoping that by watching the moments he spent with her like a film reel in his mind would help him not forget them.

"Love, can y'tell me what's got you so upset? Please," He asks softly when she calms down enough where her breathing is regular and not sporadic inhales gasping for air.

"I-I-I miss her," She cries out into the phone, the thought of embarrassing herself by breaking down to Harry not on her mind; the only thought she has is how empty she feels.

"I know, I know, love. I miss her, too," He sighs out sadly, wishing he could take away her pain, hating the way her voice quivers with every word. "Do you want t'talk about it?"

She wipes the tears that sting her eyes and cascade down her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The one she wore when Harry slept over, smelling a little like him still from the car ride to his car that day, three days ago.

They had been texting each other and talking every day since then, usually about light topics like asking how their day's were or what they were doing. However, tonight (or early morning), everything felt like it was crashing down on her. Y/N's strong front she had put up since the funeral for Phoebe's family finally collapsed, and she's found herself stuck under the rubble. She was trying so hard to keep it in because she shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself when someone's kid is dead.

She had bored herself to tears, not knowing what to do. The only thing that seemed right was to call Harry.

"Talk to me, babe." He begs her, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"I-" She sniffles, "I feel like I'm fucking drowning,"

He hates how defeated her voice sounds and he wishes he could just be there to hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay, eventually.

"It-it feels like my whole life is in ruins. Harry, I miss her." Her face scrunches up again as she starts to sob, "Sh-She was my best friend, I d-did everything with her. How am I s-supposed to do this without her? How am I supposed t-to live without her?"

"Oh, darling. I know, but you will..and you can." He frowns, racking his brain for the right thing to tell her, "You got t'live so you can experience all those ways of life she always talked about. Y'haven't experienced all those feelings Pheebz would mention when she would live her life precariously. Don't y'want to know how she felt when she would talk of such a beautiful life she lived, yeah?"

He hears a hiccup and a quiet, albeit breathy, yeah, from the other side of the call.

"You are so strong, Y/N. I don't know how y'made it this far without breaking down..." He tells her whole-heartedly.

"D-don't know how you haven't either," She gets out, realizing how selfish she's probably being, bothering Harry with her grief when he has his own to deal with.

"Honestly," He breathes out through a somber smile, "The only reason I haven't is because I have you, love."

Y/N's heart swells tenfold, she thinks. She didn't realize Harry needed her just as much as she needed him.

"...I'm sorry for calling you, I know it's late." She says through sniffles when she notices the time.

"There's no reason to apologize. It's okay, love. It's okay to hurt or be angry or upset. No one expects you to be perfect all the time." He pauses, listening to her breathing.

"Ya know, one day, it won't hurt this much. One day, you'll be able t'look back at this moment and it won't break y'heart as much as it does now. You're just in the thick of it right now, pretty girl. But, the light's coming soon, I promise." He continues and Y/N feels her heart beat faster at the pet name.

"You promise?" Her voice barely above a whisper and Harry thinks his heart just broke at the sound.

"Promise." He says, wiping the stray tears rolling down his cheeks, "Phoebe wouldn't want y'to be this upset. She would want you to keep living your life and find out the ways to how she was so in love with it. If not for yourself, love, then for her...F'me."

She nods, despite knowing he can't see. Silence falls over the pair, only the sound of bated breaths assuring the other one is there.

"One summer," He speaks up, "One summer, my family had come t'visit them, partly because of the lake near her house. It was after we had moved t'the States from Cheshire, and Phoebe and I would go walk to the little pond near the park,"

"The one near Hope?" She asks quietly if they had gone to the park she had always played at as a little girl.

"Mhm. We would walk there in the blistering sun and when we got there she tried to convince me how fairies were real." He said in a calm voice.

He hears an airy puff of breath escape her mouth, which he takes as a small giggle -- making him want to continue his story as it's helping her cheer up, and because he'd probably do anything to hear her that sound from her.

"Yeah, fairies. She told me that they live at the pond and t'see them, I would have to find a pretty flower and then jump in the water with it in only m'underwear." He breathes out a laugh.

Y/N gasps, trying to keep quiet but fails when she lets out a loud laugh.

"Oh my, did you do it?" She asks bewildered, laying down so her head rests against the pillow.

"So, I told Phoebe 'no way', yeah? But, then she said she can't just tell me about them and not follow through with seeing them. Convinced me that it would bring bad luck." He scoffs, remembering the memory vividly.

"Bad luck, indeed." She giggles and it brings the dimple out on Harry's face.

"Yeah, so of course, me being like 8 or sum', I stripped down to m'pants in the middle of the day and jumped in the water." He smiles when he hears her laughing, even if it's at his expense. "Y'laughing, but I think I got ringworm after tha'!"

"I can't believe she got you to do that! I wish I'd been there." Y/N says, out of breath from laughing.

"Scarred me of ponds for the rest of m'life." He chuckles and a pause takes them both over as they settle back down. 

"...Thank you, H." She whispers into the phone, adoration taking up all her features.

“F’what?”

“For being you, for being here. Just...Thank you.” She sighs. 

They get lost in recalling stories of their loved one for the rest of the night, repainting her memories in gold. They laugh with each other until all the pain seems to disappear. The weight, of what felt like the world, lifting off of both their shoulders. Finally being able to breathe after days of endless battles of trying to stay strong for Phoebe's sake.

***

Days pass since the lonely 4am phone call and Y/N and Harry are still talking everyday.

She finds out he lives in her city, only a few blocks from her apartment she shared with Phoebe! She didn't believe him when he first told her, but he said he was always busy with college whenever Phoebe tried to meet up. Y/N's not going to lie, her heart picked up when she found out he'd be so close to her, wondering if he'd want to hang out with her when they leave her hometown.

Almost everyday of the last few days they have visiting, they've spent at Y/N's empty childhood home. Harry asking her to explain pictures and what she was like in high school, whenever he gets the chance. In turn, she's been picking his mind on what Holmes Chapel was like and how his family was growing up. She found out that he lived with his sister, Gemma, and his mom, Anne. They talked about everything, from their favorite things to every pet they've ever had (Y/N, particularly, falling in love with the pictures of his cat, Evie).

Just as the last few days have been spent, they are spending Y/N's last day in her hometown together before she goes back. Harry told her he had to stay a couple more nights with his family before he could leave, assuring her he would've gone back with her if he could've. That comment made her blush and she had to pray the butterflies growing in her tummy to relax.

That's another thing. Y/N had stopped lying to herself and denying the ache in her chest that would form when she was away from Harry, growing very fond of him since their first encounter at the headstone bench.

Harry, also, couldn't deny any longer the way his heart would flutter at every little thing she did. Just wondering to himself how everything about her was just so pretty. He loved the way her eyes would light up every time she saw him and how he would catch her checking him out whenever he took off his shirt.

He especially loved the way she let him sleepover a few times and how they would end up cuddling into the late hours of the morning. Both parties not minding one bit, the comfort and warmth actually preferred than sending Harry home to sleep in his own bed.

"Bet I can reach that branch right there," Harry shouts with a gleeful tone, a bit out of breath as he tries to stretch his legs far enough so his shoe brushes against the leaf on the end of the tree branch.

The two of them decided to go to Hope park, where they both held fond childhood memories at. They settled at the swingset, calm swaying in the seats quickly turning into a competition of who could swing the highest. Harry won of course, his legs being much longer than hers giving him the advantage. Playful giggles and sweet conversations of things occurring in that moment help distract them from both Phoebe and the fact that Y/N is leaving.

Y/N is distracting herself from worrying about if Harry will reach out to her when they get back to the city, if he even wants to talk to her again after this weekend or if this was all just out of politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, is distracting himself from wondering if she fancies him. He wonders if the cuddles and small touches meant as much to her as they did him, if after this weekend she would want to hang out again or if she was just being nice because he knows what she's going through.

"Bet I can reach it before you!" She giggles as her hair whips around in the wind she's created. Pumping her legs back and forth, desperately trying to get higher so she can beat Harry in her made up competition.

"Now, love, not everything has to be a competition," He huffs, really reaching out this time, "But, I wanna win, if we're playing a game, I wanna win." He grins, the cute dimple that Y/N has fallen for making an appearance on his face.

The two try their hardest to be the first ones to touch the tree branch hanging not too far from their swinging feet at their highest point. Harry, however, attempts a little too hard and flies off the swing when he lifted up his leg to make the two inch gap he was short of.

Tumbling to the woodchip covered ground, he ends up laying on his back. Groans spill out of his mouth and Y/N's eyes go wide with concern. She slows herself down just enough to safely jump off the swingset, rushing to Harry's side.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly, trying to hold back the laugh that's trying to bust out. Crouching down to him, she runs her hand over his arm that's grabbing his leg.

He rubs his knee with a pained smile, "Yeah, just peachy, pet."

"Is anything hurting? Bruised?" She questions with a loving smile.

"Just my ego," He chuckles, looking up at her and admiring her caring nature.

She can't hold it in anymore, she laughs loudly at his comment, her carefree happiness making Harry's ears perk up and his heart warm.

"Yeah, love, just laugh at the crippled man." He jokes, smiling up at her happy face, wishing it could stay that way forever.

She lets out another laugh at his comment, delicately grabbing his arm to help him up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It wasn't funny," She attempts to calm herself but fails, "Okay, it was a little bit funny!"

Giggles fall out of her mouth as Harry brushes off the mulch from his jeans, "See how much you're laughing when I push you out of the swing."

"I'm soo scared." She mocks fear.

"Oh, just wait, pet. You'll never be safe on another swing set again." He playfully grabs her sides to tickle her, but her fighting his tries just ends up bringing her closer in his hold.

Their laughs quickly die out when they realize he's holding her in his clutch, his hands at her waist, hers around his neck. Harry stares into her eyes as she stares back into his. The empty park is serene, no other noises besides the chirping of birds and the sounds of other animals sprawling about. The sweet moment causes Y/N's breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. They've only been this close when cuddling, she's never been this close to his face before. His features glow in the sunlight, his green irises complimenting the bounce of his skin and dark eyelashes. Her skin is soft and warm against his, and he just wants to lean in and-

Y/N's eyes flutter close as Harry's face comes closer, his lips meet hers in a gentle caress. With the sweet kiss, he takes note of how soft her lips are, how warm and fuzzy her intimate touch is making his head. While one hand is squeezing at her side, the other is brought up to cradle her face and she leans into his touch. Harry sucks on her bottom lip before peeling away so they can catch their breath.

Y/N lets out a whine at the loss of contact, her bottom lip jutting out as he pulls away.

"What are y'pouting for, pet? W-was that not okay? Should I not have done tha'?" The blood almost drains from his face at the pouty look on her beautiful face.

She shakes her head at him, "No, I liked it. I want more," She pants, pulling him by the collar of his shirt to bring him back to her lips.

He chuckles at her cute antics (and in relief of not fucking up his shot with her). He smiles against her lips as he melts back into her, her hand around his neck reaching up to tangle in his curly hair. He groans when her nimble fingers pull tenderly at the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to squeeze her side gently.

She breathlessly kissed him, slotting her lips between his and immediately opening her mouth in acceptance when he brushes his tongue against her bottom lip in a silent ask to take it further. As the kiss deepens, the need for air increases. They naturally separate, Harry sucking her bottom lip as he goes until it pops back.

Taking in her reddened swollen lips and her pretty flushed face, he presses one last chaste kiss on her lips, and one to her cheek and her nose.

A big, genuine grin adorns Y/N's face as she stares up at the man in front of her.

"Thank you f'letting me do tha'." He says with a gravelly voice.

"I've been thinking about you doing that since the first night you stayed at my house." She tells him bashfully.

"Me too, love. And it was better than I ever expected," He says whole-heartedly, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to her lips again.

"So, does this mean we're gonna hang out when we both go back home? Because I really want to do that again." Her glassy eyes blink at him with hope awaiting his answer.

He smiles and shakes his head, bewildered at how she could ever think that he could just ghost her after that, "I think Phoebe would come back just to slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her best friend and just never saw her again."

She chuckles at his comment, shyly looking down to her hand on his chest when he doesn't say anything else.

"Of course, I want to hang out when we get back. I want to take y'out on a real date, if you'd let me."  He looks at her all starry eyed, squeezing her waist.

"I think Phoebe would come back and slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her cousin and just never saw him again," This time he's the one that laughs.

"I'd love that very much, Harry." She beams up at him.

Going back home couldn't come sooner to the both of them.

******************

ahhh i hope y’all liked that, i’d love feedback :) i’m thinking of making a series out of it, but only if that’s something y’all would like! so, pls let me know if you enjoyed it or if i should make a part 2 ?? 

anyways, stay safe and much love <3

[lexosaurus]

Going Angst Week 2021: Birth

I wrote a short five part fic for this year’s Going Angst Week! Fair warning as the event suggests, no one in this fic will make it out on top.

Chapter One: Birth

---

“Don’t think of it as a death, think of it as a sort of rebirth.”

That’s what Vlad had told him anyhow, after he discovered who—or rather what—Danny was at their college reunion. 

“Who were you before this? A nobody, right? Just some little hormonal fourteen year old from the weirdo family, unpopular and bullied. No real hobbies or activities to speak of, aside from…” Vlad’s red eyes pierced down at him. “Video games, am I correct?”

Danny diverted his gaze to the floor. Vlad’s aura only increased in amusement.

“But now,” the ghost continued. “Now you’re something else. Something different, more powerful. The world is your oyster, and all you have to do is reach down and take it.”

“I don’t know,” Danny finally spoke up. He had been hoping that speaking to the older halfa would begin to patch things up between them, but so far every word out of Vlad’s mouth seemed coated in poison.

He knew that deep down he shouldn’t trust a damn word Plasmius said, but Vlad was the only person in the world who he could relate to. And according to the Vlad, there was no one else like them in the Ghost Zone either.

“What is there to be afraid of, Little Badger? You’re a half ghost, you can do whatever it is that you want and nobody, nobody can stop you.”

“It’s not that I’m afraid.” Lies, lies, all lies. “It just doesn’t seem right, is all.”

Plasmius leaned down, forcing Danny’s eyes to meet his. He grinned, bearing his fangs at the boy, as if he could see through all the fear that Danny was desperate to mask.

“Oh Daniel,” Vlad said. “Your parents will never accept you. No good you do in your ghost form could ever convince them that ghosts aren’t all evil, that some are good, that you are good. Don’t you see?”

“No, you’re wrong. My parents will accept me. I just have to—”

“Oh, will they?” Vlad laughed. “Your parents? The same ones who’ve dedicated their careers, their lives to developing ecto-weaponry meant to kill our kind? The people who have written countless academic papers as to the dangers of ecto-life on Earth?”

“If I can show them that we’re not all bad, then maybe they’ll see.”

“Ah, so I bet that explains why you haven’t told them about what really happened in the lab, right? You just wanted to wait for the ‘right time’ to tell them. Foolish boy, don’t you know?” Vlad’s cocky tone died down, as did the power of his aura. In the first moment of sincerity Danny had witnessed from the older man, he turned to Danny and warned, “Your parents are too blinded by their ignorance to ever see the truth.”

---

Danny had been alone the day of the accident. He wasn’t sure why he did it, why he strapped on the hazmat suit (not before ripping off the Jack sticker), why he stepped in the portal, why he tried to figure out how to turn it on. Was it boredom? Teenage rebellion? Curiosity?

But delving into his reasoning was too little too late. Because the moment he tripped over the wire and hit the misplaced power switch, his life ended.

Literally.

Dying hurt. It was terrifying, waking up as something else entirely, and passing out all over again.

At first, he could almost pretend that he was okay. But then he woke up the next morning and felt like he’d been hit by a truck.

And then he fell through his bed, hitting the wood floor below his bed frame.

And then he dragged himself out and saw the extensive scarring on his arm.

And then he knew. That what had happened in the lab wasn’t just a fluke, that whatever the portal did had changed him forever.

That he wasn’t okay.

Still, he tried to carry on as normal. Eventually, the lightning scars snaking across his arm faded (even though they remained when he transformed), and the aching of his muscles subsided (but the coolness in his chest never went away), and his relative anonymity at his school meant that people hardly noticed a change in him (even though his two best friends seemed to hover more now than before).

Everything was going to be normal. Even if he wasn’t okay anymore. Even if he wasn’t human, even if he was...some monster.

What even was he?

“Danny?” Sam poked his shoulder. “Hey, space case? You haven’t touched your food. Are you okay?”

The world snapped into focus, and he realized that he was in the cafeteria at school with his untouched lunch tray splayed out in front of him. He couldn’t even remember getting out of bed this morning, much less making it all the way till lunch.

Regardless, he picked the cardboard excuse for pizza from his tray and took a bite, chewing slowly, and tried not to choke as he forced the food down his parched throat.

“I’m fine,” he said.

He’d been saying that a lot lately.

“We’ve been trying not to pry, but…” Sam looked helplessly at Tucker. “Danny, is...is something going on with you? You’ve just seemed off lately.”

“No, nothing happened. I’m fine.”

“You sure dude?” Tucker asked.

Danny set his school-issued pizza back down on his tray. “Guys, seriously. I’m your best friend. If anything happened, I promise you’d be the first to know. I’ve just been stressed about school, it’s nothing.”

Sam and Tucker exchanged a glance, evidently not looking too convinced. Regardless, Sam gave him her best fake smile and a, “If you say so. Just know we’re here if you wanna talk.”

But he didn’t want to talk. They were human, he...wasn’t. They wouldn’t get it. They’d think he was a freak, they’d stop talking to him, they’d tell Jazz who would tell his parents who would kill him trying to save him.

No one could help him.

They finished lunch in silence, and then it was back to class where Danny managed to fall out of his chair twice and drop his pencil too many times to count. In biology class a glass microscope plate flew past his fingers, shattering against the tiled floor, and in English class when Lancer handed him papers to pass out he dropped those too, sending them scattered along the ground.

He saw the way Lancer peered at him as he stumbled to the ground, hands shaking as he desperately tried to grab the papers while everyone laughed at him. He felt cold—he was always cold since the accident—and he was sure that he looked just as much of a mess as he felt.

Mr. Lancer sent him down to the nurses office after that.

But he couldn’t go to the nurse because his heart rate was slower than a human’s and he didn’t need to breathe as much and he was so cold.

And he was fine.

So he took the hall pass and hid in the bathroom for the rest of the class period.

“Think of it as a rebirth,” Vlad had told him. 

Except Vlad was wrong. Danny wasn’t stronger now, he wasn’t more powerful. In fact, Danny Fenton had never felt more powerless, lost, and alone in his entire life.

If this was the start of a new life, then he was terrified to see what would follow.

---

next chapter>

[five-rivers]

imagine if at a christmas truce party the ghosts discover that danny has a second obsession of space

Wrote a fic~ *does a little dance*

.

"Here's your invitation to the truce party," said Skulker, dropping the letter by Danny's head, "and here's the duty list. Pick something." He shoved a piece of paper into Danny's face.

"You know," said Danny, testing the rope Skulker had tied him with, "you get a lot better at chasing me when you're doing it for non-murder purposes."

Skulker scowled, but Danny knew better than to take his apparent facial expression as a sign of his true emotions. After all, the face Danny could see wasn't really Skulker's. It was a mask. One the tiny green jellybean inside could manipulate as he pleased.

"What do you mean, 'duty list,' anyway?" Danny blew the paper off his nose.

"It's a list. Of duties. For people who want to attend the party. You can't possibly imagine that one ghost does it all on their own, do you?"

"I don't know. Some living people are really into the holidays. Wouldn't surprise me if there was someone over in the GZ Obsessing."

"There are," said Skulker flatly. "But going to those parties is risky."

"Oh. Yeah. I guess that makes sense. So, is this, like, a potluck deal, or white elephant, or do I have to come set up, or what?"

"Read the list, whelp!"

"I would," said Danny, "if you held it far enough away for me to see what was written on it. "My eyes don't focus that close."

Grumbling, Skulker adjusted his position.

A lot of the things on the list were already checked off. The rest looked dangerous (fighting the Krampus), time consuming (holly acquisition, with a stupidly high number of branches listed next to it), expensive (providing new holiday table settings), confusing (Danny didn't know what a 'consoda' was, or why he would fetch offerings from it), or simply extraordinarily unappealing (after party cleanup). Except for one.

One that caught Danny's eye because of a very specific word that was included.

"Why's the star all by itself?" asked Danny.

"Because the star is important," said Skulker. "Adding the star to the tree is what starts off the real celebration. A star needs to be impressive. Dramatic! Not one of those little dinky tinsel things you can find at human stores."

Part of Danny knew he shouldn't- But when had he ever listened to that part of himself?

Actually, that wasn't really fair. He listened, otherwise he'd be fully dead instead of just half.

Still.

(The idea of making a star made his skin feel sparkly and fuzzy, like his whole body was half an inch from the surface of freshly poured soda, but all over.)

"I'll take it," he said.

"Humf," said Skulker. "Don't screw up, or you'll be in for a beating as soon as the truce is over." He made a mark by the name and started to fly off.

"Hey! Aren't you going to untie me?"

"Nah."

.

"He's late," said Desiree, sharply, glaring at Skulker as if he had any control over what the whelp did or did not do.

She wasn't the only one.

"He's not late yet," defended Skulker.

"You shouldn't have given him the star as a choice," complained Technus, his voice squaking like a poorly connected computer speaker. "You should have just told him what he'd have to do. Something that wouldn't ruin the party. He's a teenager! Teenagers are easily distracted."

"I didn't know you were a teen, techie," drawled Spectra, who really shouldn't have been at the party at all, seeing as she wasn't, and never had been, invited. Skulker was hoping someone would find a way to throw her and her little minion out before midnight.

"It's TECHNUS, MASTER OF TECHNOLOGY, CONTROLLER OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC AND BEEPING."

"I am sure Sir Phantom is on his way," said Princess Dora, softly, ignoring Technus's continuing rant with the ease of long practice. She would not be here the whole evening. Her kingdom had its own, separate celebrations, but they wouldn't start for well over half a human day. "He is a very responsible person, and he was speaking to me about stars just earlier this month." She frowned, slightly, swirling the darkly luminous wine in her glass. "That is, I think he was talking about stars. The conversation was somewhat difficult for me to follow."

"Oh, no," said Desiree, putting one hand delicately over a smile.

"What?" growled Skulker.

"It always bothered me a little, you see, but I hadn't realized quite why until just now." She was barely even trying to hide her delight. "The second time I fought him, it was during a meteor shower."

"So?" asked Amorpho.

"He was rather cross with me during the fight. At the time, I thought it was because he was missing that girl's party, or because of the whole memory wiping thing, but in retrospect..."

"Just spit it out already," said Skulker.

"I do believe you gave the task of making the tree star to a ghost Obsessed with outer space."

Inside the suit, Skulker's true hands slip off his controls for just a moment. "Oh, Ancients," he groaned.

"We're not getting a star this year, are we?" asked Ember.

Phantom chose that moment to barrel through the door. "Sorry!" he exclaimed, looking and sounding more like a little kid than Skulker had ever witnessed. "Am I late? No, I'm not. Never mind. I'm not sorry. What do you think?"

He held out the... thing in his hands for the assembled ghosts to view. It was... It was definitely a star. A round blue star. Complete with solar flares and sunspots. Animated flares and sunspots.

"How the hell?" whispered Walker in the background, despite the fact that he and his pink prison really had no room to talk.

"Is it no good?" asked Phantom, managing to shift his weight even though he was floating. "I turned the brightness way down so that everyone could see the details, but I think I could turn it back up again without too much trouble." He blinked up at the other ghosts, and Skulker noticed with some unease that his pupils were currently shaped like crescent moons. "I mean, the other one exploded, but I think I've got it, now."

All of the ghosts slid back, just slightly. Not that they were afraid of explosions, but, well, being cautious didn't hurt.

"Er," said Dora, "what is it, exactly?"

"A star! A blue giant, specifically. Well, a model of one, anyway, but I think it's a good model. I mean, it's a blue giant right now. I've got it set up so that it'll go through the whole life cycle of a massive star. Or, not the whole life cycle, because that would include the nebula, but the life cycle from this point? It'll change color and expand as the night goes on and it uses up its 'hydrogen'- I've scaled the expansion, though, don't worry, it won't take over- and then the core will collapse and the outer layers will be ejected, and- BOOM!- supernova!"

"Ghost child," said Technus, in a more strangled than usual voice, "are you telling us that's a bomb?"

"No, it's a star," said Phantom, blankly. On closer inspection, the crescents in his eyes were not the only modification to Phantom's appearance. He had pale green and silver stars scattered liberally across his nose and cheeks, and similar shapes in the black of his costume.

In the background, Desiree was dying of laughter.

"Don't you think a supernova might be... dangerous?"

"Oh, a real one, sure. But I tested one before I brought this, and all it did to me was singe my eyebrows off, and I was standing really close."

"Whelp," said Skulker, searching for some reason to reject Phantom's 'contribution,' "how is that even supposed to stay on the tree? It's just a ball."

"Oh, it'll float wherever I tell it to, don't worry, I've tested it!"

.

It perhaps said something about ghostly parties that the sudden detonation of the tree topper several hours later, the subsequent glee of the supposed superhero in attendance when the room was filled with star-shaped glitter and confetti, and the attempted homicide on the part of several glitter-unfriendly ghosts was not the most exciting series of events to occur that night.

[hoebii]

To the moon

Pairing : JJK x Reader , PJM x Reader

Genre : Angst, fluff, college!Au

Rating : 18+

Warning : Swearing, major character death (disease), symptoms of terminal disease, talking about death, one sided love, pining 

Wc : 3.3k

A/N : Thank you @chemicalpink for being my amazing beta who helped making this fic much more than a hot mess. A huge thank you to @taegularities for making me this BEAUTIFUL banner!! I love this banner so so so much~ and @voiceswithoutlips for letting me use her name in the fic, ilysm <3 I had the idea for this fic for a while and this might be the favourite fic from what I’ve written so far so I really hope it’s good. As usual, hope you guys enjoy this one and feed back is always appreciated~

-------

Jimin could only watch from afar as Jungkook and you danced around within the crowd of people. Usually he could be found in the middle, Jimin was known to be the life of the party after all. But, he couldn’t seem to enjoy himself, not while being sober anyway. 

Downing the drink in his hand, he couldn’t help but wince a bit at the burning sensation as the liquid flowed down his throat. Slapping himself softly a few times he spoke to no one in particular, “Come on, Jimin, you got this. You’ve watched them love each other for years now, what’s one more night?”

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he pushed off the wall he was leaning against. He needed more alcohol if he wanted to survive the night without another heartbreak. Flinging the cup away nonchalantly, he strode towards the kitchen to grab another one. 

Reaching the counter, he grabbed the strongest alcohol he could find and gulped down half the bottle at one go. Would he regret it in the morning? Most definitely. But, did he care now? Not a single bit. 

“Oof, what’s got you drinking your life away?” he heard none other than Jungkook ask, seemingly appearing out of thin air beside him.

Choking on his drink, Jimin hit his chest as he placed the bottle down. Glaring at his smiling best friend, he grumbled, “Don’t scare me like that! I almost had a cardiac arrest, my good fellow.”

“My good fellow? Since when am I a ‘good fellow’?”

“You’re right. You almost gave me a heart attack, assbutt.”

Jungkook snorted, rolling his eyes as he grabbed two cups out of the stack, “Okay, Castiel. No need to get your panties in a twist now.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m wearing anything underneath.”

Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, he bumped his shoulder with Jimin’s, “How sexy of you.”

Jimin shook his head, a small smile on his lips as he raised the bottle to his lips once again, “Very sexy of me indeed.”

“Alright alright. Stop moping about and drinking your life away and come join us! Y/N was asking where you were,” Jungkook revealed, “we need our third dumbass for the trio to be complete!”

Jimin slumped a little at the mention of you, before straightening up with his trademark flirtatious smirk. Thankful that the boy beside him didn’t notice - or if he did then didn’t comment -, “Aw, is this your way of inviting me to a threesome? Cause I’m in just so you know.” 

Head thrown back in laughter, Jungkook’s shoulders shook, “Yeah dude, we’re gonna have such a sexy time fucking in a frat house.”

“Bet.”

With that, Jimin took one last swig from the bottle before starting towards the main room, “Time to get this party started.”

-------

Jimin woke up to a pounding head with a start, covering his eyes with a hand in a futile attempt to block out the sunlight, he groaned, “Why’d I drink so much last night. Fuck you past Jimin.”

Moving to get out of the bed, he stopped dead in his tracks when he felt something, or someone, wrapping their hand around his torso. Looking down, his eyes widened like saucers as he recognised none other than Kas cuddling up to his bare chest. 

Scrambling to move away, Jimin fell off the bed with a squeak, successfully dragging the bed covers with him. 

Jerking awake, Kas groaned about her lost sleep, looking over the side of the bed to the flabbergasted man on the ground.

“If I knew this was how you started the morning, I’d never say yes to sleeping with you,” she remarked in a gruff tone.

“You- I- We-” Jimin sputtered from his spot on the ground.

“You, I, We, yeah we fucked last night,” Kas said offhandedly, rolling back to burrow into her pillow to fall asleep once more.

Clambering up, Jimin looked around the room he was in, noting that it was indeed, not his - though it was a room he wasn’t a stranger to either -. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that Jimin was, put in simple words; a fuck boy. He had slept with a majority of the uni population by now. So it was safe to say Kas’s room was nothing new to him - thanks to his previous rendezvous with her. 

Though it was surprising that he was there at that moment, for he had stopped sleeping around as soon as he realised his feelings for you. Now, most people might do the opposite and excuse their actions with ‘I’m trying to get over them’ but Jimin couldn’t bring himself to do that. He didn’t find anyone else even remotely interesting enough to spend a night with besides you.

“Kas this-” Jimin started but the brunette was faster, waving her arm dismissively as she spoke, “It means nothing, I know. You’re too in love with your best friend, blah blah blah.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kas huffed out a laugh, rolling over to face him from the bed, “Why’re you sorry? It’s not like we have feelings for each other.” She continued as she rolled her eyes and smirked playfully, “besides, you’re not my type anyway. I’m more into guys like Namjoon.”

Body sagging in relief, Jimin could only chuckle along as he started gathering his clothes, “You know, I could always give you his number?”

“Then what? I call him and say ‘Hey, I got your number from Jimin after a one night stand. Let’s go on a date.’?”

“I mean, technically you could.”

A moment of silence passed as the two delved into a staring contest of sorts.

“Okay, so I’m gonna go now,” Jimin drawled out, getting dressed as he inched towards the exit, “I’ll text you hyung’s number later, by the way. Do whatever you wish to with that.”

“You’re such a shady fucker, Park,” Kas said jokingly, “how you befriended someone like Namjoon is beyond me.”

With a laugh he left, “See you around, Kas.”

-------

Jimin unlocked the front door of his apartment, not caring about the noise as he was certain that his roommate was out by now.

“Welcome back, man-whore,” Jungkook greeted from his spot on the couch, eyes glued to the TV screen in front of him. 

Jimin’s body tensed instinctively, eyes widening in shock as he looked at his roommate playing video games, “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“Yeah but what are you doing here now?”

“Playing video games.”

Jimin sighed exasperated, “Aren’t you usually with Y/N at this time?”

Jungkook mimicked the elder’s sigh to mock the older, “Yeah but she’s busy today.”

Processing the information, Jimin nodded his head, “I’m gonna go freshen up.”

“Alright.”

-------

Steam escaped the bathroom as Jimin stepped out, drying his hair with a towel as he walked to his room. Just as he entered, he heard his phone ringing. Looking around the place, he spotted his vibrating phone at the edge of the bed where he had thrown it before going into the shower.

Grabbing the phone, he picked up the call without checking the ID, “Can you please call back? I’m on the other line with my proctologist and he’s trying to explain to me why I have a perfect ass.”

“What the fuck did you just say?” 

“Ah Jin-hyung! How are you?” 

“None of that. First tell me what the fuck you just said.”

Jimin snickered, moving to sit on the bed, “Don’t worry about it. I usually start calls with the weirdest thing I can think of so if it’s a scam call, they leave me alone.”

“You know,” Jin started, “if you used even half the brain power you use on shit like this while studying, you’d be one of the smartest students in your university.”

“Where’s the fun in that though?” Jimin whined, falling back to lie down, “besides, I’m already one of the top students in our batch.”

“Overconfidence will take you nowhere Park Jimin,” Jin stated.

“Lies. You’re a world renowned model, are you not?” 

“Aish, you’re such a brat.”

Giggling, Jimin switched his phone from one ear to the other, “Only for you. Now tell me how you’ve been! It’s been ages since we last spoke.”

-------

“Fuck! Taehyung focus!” Jungkook shouted into his mic as he killed another enemy, rushing to his friend’s dying avatar and quickly reviving him.

“Sorry, I was drinking some water real quick,” came Taehyung’s reply, “I thought that spot was safe for a quick sip.”

“You were literally hiding in a bush in an open field,” Jungkook deadpanned, throwing a grenade at the building he knew the enemy squad was hiding. 

“Ooh nice one,” Taehyung said as the game announced that he had killed two players with the grenade. 

“Taehyung-ah, only two more players left. If we lose then I’m gonna end you.”

-------

You hissed in pain as another rose thorn pricked one of your fingers, “I hate this so much.”

“Oh cheer up, Y/N. Gardening will never be fun if you’re such a grump!” your grandfather announced, plucking another rose and placing it in his basket.

“I wouldn’t even be here if I didn’t love you so much, grandpa.”

“I love you too, bubbles. Let’s go to that patch now! Be careful though, those have more thorns,” your grandfather beamed like a little kid on Christmas morning as he moved towards the white rose patch.

You could only groan as you dragged your feet to follow him, “Great, more thorns. Yay.”

-------

“Alright, five minutes break for getting water and shit,” Jungkook announced before taking his headphones off. 

He stood up and stretched, feeling his joints crack as he did so. Looking at the clock, he realised that he had been playing for a few hours now. 

“Damn I went so long without moving? No wonder I’m so thirsty.”

Jungkook rolled his neck, hearing some more bones cracking as he walked towards the kitchen to grab some quick snacks. Walking by Jimin’s room, he heard the older man talking to someone.

He was about to move on, having no interest in eavesdropping, when he thought he heard your name. Ignoring his brain that urged him not to listen, he moved closer to the closed door, trying to hear what was being said.

“I don’t know hyung…” he heard Jimin say, “you know how I feel about Y/N. I don’t think I can go on a date with someone else.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he listened. There was a pause, no doubt the person on the other line speaking before he heard Jimin speak again.

“I know I have to get over her, hyung. It’s just,” Jimin sighed, “it feels unfair for the other person, you know? Going on a date with them while I’m in love with Y/N and all.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened, he barely held a gasp in as he heard Jimin. He knew that Jimin used to have feelings for you when they were younger so he made sure to ask him before pursuing a relationship with you when he caught feelings for you too. He clearly remembered Jimin telling him that he no longer had feelings for you when Jungkook had confided to him about his growing affections for you. 

Jungkook moved away from the door, shaking his head as he realised that the other man had lied back then. He had prioritised Jungkook over himself. Typical Jimin, he thought.

Not wanting to barge in on Jimin mid call, Jungkook decided that he would speak to him about it later on. With that noted in his mind, he continued his journey to the kitchen to get some snacks. 

-------

Time flew by, days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months. Jungkook ended up never speaking to Jimin about his conversation, too swept up with university life and finals that came banging on the door. 

It was during that time when Jungkook’s health started deteriorating. It started with him feeling nauseous even though he didn’t do or have anything that might have caused it, then came his loss of appetite. 

Every time he would brush away your and Jimin’s concerned gaze, saying it was just him overexerting himself with all his extracurricular activities and studies. What worried you the most was when he started to drastically lose weight. The once muscular and energetic boy who loved playing outdoor games slowly turned into a sickly and frail boy who no longer had enough energy to move much without getting exhausted. 

Jimin and you tried time and time again to get him to see a doctor and he time and time again waved away your concerns, always dismissing his decline in health with some sort of excuse. 

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when one day he started to complain about severe back pain and difficulty breathing. You had called Jimin and the two of you rushed to the hospital with the barely conscious boy.

------- 

It was a day like any other, Jimin woke up, got dressed, made some food for himself and his roommate. Checking on Jungkook in the other room as soon as he was done. 

Holding the tray of food in one hand, he knocked on the open door to announce his presence, “Hey Kook. Got your breakfast, we’re having eggs and bacon today!”

Cracking one eye open, the younger man could only give a weak smile, “Morning, hyung.”

Moving to place the tray on the bedside table, Jimin helped him sit up - placing pillows behind him against the headboard so he could lean back and be comfortable as he ate.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin asked as he sat beside the bed, grabbing the food and starting to slowly feed the other. You decided to move in with them after Jungkook got diagnosed with the last stage of pancreatic cancer last year.

Chewing on the egg, Jungkook struggled to swallow before answering, “She went to the department store to grab some stuff.”

Nodding, Jimin fed him another bite, making sure that it was small enough for him to swallow without much struggle. The two continued in comfortable silence, only the scraping of the utensils against the plate and the distant chirping of birds from outside could be heard inside the room. 

It was a beautiful day, so why did it feel as if something was wrong? Jimin could only wonder, his eyebrows furrowed in thought before he shook his head to get rid of the negative thoughts. 

After making sure that Jungkook finished the whole meal and drank enough water, he placed the tray back on the bedside table. Jimin knew that the younger would want to read something to pass the time so he got up to grab a book from his shelf, eyes scanning all the spines before finally picking one he thought the other would enjoy.

Turning, he walked back towards Jungkook and handed him the book, moving to take the tray so he could clean up. 

Before he could leave however, the younger man called his name. Turning to face him, Jimin raised an eyebrow in question, “What’s up?”

“I forgot to talk to you back then but,” Jungkook started, a coughing fit making him pause midway, “I heard you on the phone that day last year. The day after the party where you went home with Kas noona?”

Jimin’s posture straightened, his body tensing as he recalled that day. The only one he spoke to on call, as far as he could remember was Jin. 

Clearing his throat, Jimin walked back to the bed, placing the tray back on the bedside table as he sat by him, “Oh? What about it?”

“I was walking by to grab some snacks when I heard you confessing your feelings for Y/N, hyung.”

It was like someone had just punched Jimin in the throat, a gasp leaving his plump lips as his eyes widened. 

“Kook, I-”

“Don’t worry,” Jungkook smiled softly, “I know you wouldn’t ever try anything. I trust you.”

Jimin didn’t know what to say, opting to grab one of his hands and softly running his thumb over it, “Kook I’m trying to get over her, I swear I am. It’s just a little difficult when you’ve loved someone for years.”

Chuckling, Jungkook placed his other hand on top of Jimin’s, “It’s fine, I don’t blame you. She’s an amazing girl, hyung. Anyone would fall for her.”

The two share a silent moment, though it was a comfortable one. None of them felt the need to speak, just enjoying the little peaceful moment they were sharing.

Jimin felt the grip on his hand tightening, the other’s face turning into one that showed discomfort, “Hyung, I don’t feel so good.”

“What are you talking about? Let me call the ambulance!” Jimin exclaimed frantically, freeing his hand from the younger’s, rushing to go grab his phone from the other room. 

Right as he was about to get up though, a hand grabbed a hold of his wrist. Halting him in his steps.

“Clam down, will you? I don’t want the last thing I see before dying is you panicking like a headless chicken.”

Swallowing back tears harshly, Jimin’s eyebrows creased in concern, “What are you talking about? How are you joking in a moment like this!”

Shaking his head, Jungkook smiled again, voice strained with the effort of him speaking through the pain and fatigue he felt, “No listen, it’s fine. Just make sure to take care of Y/N alright? She might act all tough but she’s as fragile as a flower.”

“Jungkook, please. Let me go get my phone so I can take you to the hospital,” Jimin begged, voice trembling as his eyes glazed over with unshed tears.

Ignoring his pleads, Jungkook continued with a laugh, “We always joked about how one day in the future we’d go to the moon together like in those movies. Guess that won’t be happening in this life, huh?” 

“Fuck Kook, you can! Just let me get the damn phone!” Jimin almost screamed in frustration, rapidly blinking back his tears as his hands shook.

Meeting his eyes, Jungkook only continued smiling, a peaceful look overtaking his feature, “Take her to the moon for me, alright?”

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open, but this time he didn’t fight the numbness that took over him. In that moment Jungkook truly felt at peace, knowing that the two of the people he cared so much for would be alright. That they had each other when he wouldn’t be there. 

------- 

That was what you walked in on. The sight of your boyfriend lying on his bed, looking more at peace then you had seen him in the past year. You could almost smile at the seemingly happy moment but the sobbing man beside him indicated something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“What’s going on? Why’re you crying Chimmy?” You asked cautiously, still standing at the door.

Jimin’s head snapped up, his blood shot tearful eyes locking with yours, “He’s gone.”

The grocery bags that you were holding a moment ago were on the ground, the sound of glass breaking heard from inside. “What do you mean he’s gone?” You asked, lips quivering as your voice trembled.

Getting up from his seat, Jimin walked towards you, pulling you into a crushing hug as you started weeping, “You’re lying! He can’t be gone, he can’t leave me!”

Jimin could only hold you tighter, caressing the back of your head as he shushed you gently, whispering an endless string of apologies even though he couldn’t stop crying himself.  

“Please tell me this is some sort of a sick prank you two are pulling on me. Please tell me you’re joking and he’s alright,” you begged, weakly grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging at it in desperation. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, kissing you on top of your head, “Let it out, I’m here for you, moonlight. Just like I promised.”

[lunaverseimagine]

Worth Dying For

Request: Can someone PLEASE make a Fred Weasley imagine where he died defending you at the last battle because he was the only one that knew you were pregnant with George’s baby? @writerinnight

Pairing: George x Reader, platonic!Fred x Reader

Warnings: Major character death, angst, I’ve never written angst like this before and I apologise in advance for any pain caused 👀

Word count: 1.4k

Tags: @flyingserpxnt @pcseidcnsvoid @cherrycolakxsses @justanotherblondeday @schlongbottom @wand3ringr0s3 @hemmoporro Join a taglist through the link in my bio <3

Fic:

You had so many mixed emotions when you looked at the test. Your hand flew to your mouth and tears filled your eyes. Butterflies went crazy in your stomach. You were going to bring a baby into the world. But not the sort of world you’d pictured when you imagined this moment. You allowed yourself a couple of minutes to absorb the information before taking some deep breaths and wiping the tears from your eyes. As you opened the bathroom door you collided with a firm chest.

“Blimey y/n/n, sorry, I-“ but Fred fell silent as his gaze drifted to the stick in your hand. Your eyes widened and you hid it behind your back, but it was too late. “Y/n... is that what I think it is?”

You debated lying, but there was no point, you wouldn’t be able to hide the truth from him now. Checking the hallway to make sure you were alone, you forced yourself to say the words.

“I’m pregnant.” You looked down at the floor, digging your toes into the carpet, anxiously awaiting his response. Surely Fred would be disappointed that you were pregnant now, that you were bringing a baby into this. But Fred’s arms wrapped around you and he lifted you off the ground.

“Merlin’s beard y/n/n, that’s brilliant! Georgie’s gonna be so happy-“

“I’m not telling George.” Fred put you down and looked at you with furrowed brows, hands still holding onto your arms as though he didn’t want to let go completely. “Not yet. Tomorrow is just so... huge. I don’t want him distracted or… or worrying about me.”

Seeing the resolve in your eyes, Fred knew there was no changing your mind, so he enveloped you in another hug and mumbled in your ear, “I’ll look out for you, you have my word. But If it’s going to be a secret you might want to stop waving that stick around.” You slapped him lightly, but hid the test in your pocket nonetheless.

-

You and George stood side by side, the rest of your families not far away, a united team. It was the calm before the storm, and the castle was completely silent. You couldn’t believe that this used to be your school, your home. Soon to be a battleground, inevitably covered in bloodshed. A shiver ran down your spine before you pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. Now, more than ever before in your life, you needed to focus. You observed the grey skies, the cold bite to the air, as you listened, waiting for any sign of movement.

Something brushed against your fingers and you jumped, your hold on your wand tightening, before realising it was George. “Sorry love.” he whispered as he clasped your hand in his own and squeezed it reassuringly. You squeezed back, leaning in to him so that the side of your body was flush with his. George, your George, your boyfriend of 6 years and the soon-to-be father of your baby. You sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening, asking that you, George, and bump would survive. 

“I love you Georgie.” Your voice was barely a whisper, but in the silence he heard you perfectly.

“I love you too y/n.” You could see the fear in his eyes, watched as he bounced his leg and looked nervously around. You pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips lingering on the stubbly skin.

Suddenly the shields surrounding the castle began to break, and the scene turned to utter chaos. You and George stood back to back, casting spells at death eaters, constantly scanning your surroundings in case anyone needed backup. Fred had joined you so you were now standing in a triangle, fighting enemies on all sides.

The battle was a blur, flashes of red and green all around, shouts and screams filling your ears. Pushing down thoughts of the baby, thoughts of George, and of everyone else you wanted to protect, you focused instead on what you could see, on what you could do. That is, until the moment time seemed to slow down. The moment when three death eaters apparated in front of you. You knew there was no way you’d win against all of them, but dammit you would not go down without a fight. As you lifted your wand to disarm the death eater closest to you, all three of them raised their wands, pointing them directly at you. You heard the words forming on their lips, seeming to take an eternity, words that haunted your worst nightmare. Words you had hoped never to hear in your lifetime.

“Avada-”

You watched a mess of ginger hair in front of you. 

“NO!” Your mouth formed the word, feeling disconnected from the rest of you.

You watched his arms spread wide to shield you

“Expelliarmus!” You cast, disarming one of the three evil people threatening the life of those you held dearest.

You watched as he disarmed another one, doing his best to protect you just like he promised.

“Kedavra.”

You watched as he crumpled to the floor in front of you, revealing the last death eater stood before him, the one responsible for taking his life.

You cast the curse back at him, not that you needed to because your scream had attracted attention, and curses were firing at him from all sides.

You fell to your knees next to Fred, letting out a scream that came from the depths of your lungs, your soul. You felt George beside you, turning to see him stare blankly at the lifeless face of his twin, of his other half. George was looking but not seeing, not registering, until suddenly he did, and he grabbed Fred’s hand.

“No no no no, Freddie, wake up, wake up, it’s me, it’s George.” His voice was breaking, and you cradled his head, brought it to rest in your chest as you held him, tears streaming down your face. “It’s George, you know, like Forge? Gred? I can’t be Forge or Gred on my own, I can’t do it, you have to wake up, you have to.” You clutched George tightly but his hands still held Fred’s cold one, refusing to let it go, refusing to believe that he could be gone. “You have to. You have to.”

The battle raged on around you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, George had to know. He had to know why this happened. 

“I-” the words caught in your throat, it was so painful, your heart was aching, but George needed to know. “I know why he did it.” George lifted his head, glazed, bloodshot eyes meeting yours.

“What?”

“He- he jumped in front of me because otherwise- otherwise it would’ve been me-” at this thought your chest constricted and you had to fight to breathe, “and he didn’t want that because I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant Georgie, and he knew.” The last bit came out as a mere whisper, but George was hanging on to every word, trying to make sense of it all.

“You’re- you’re pregnant?” You merely nodded. George finally found the courage to let go of his twin’s hand, holding on to you for support because there was no way he could do this on his own, he needed you, his lifeline. He buried his face in your chest in an attempt to ground himself, and you clutched onto him, not daring to let go. The two of you rocked back and forth, unable to process the severity of the situation.

His family, his parents started to realise what had happened and were coming towards you, but you couldn’t bear to see the looks on their faces, so you pressed your face on top of George’s head, kissing him because he’s still alive and Fred isn’t and it’s not fair and your baby’s dad is alive and his uncle isn’t. 

You stayed there for hours, long after the battle ended. You’d won, but at what cost? You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to breathe without feeling the pain in your chest, the weight filling you, reminding you of what Fred had done. What he’d done for you. You couldn’t even imagine the pain George was in, losing half of himself. You didn’t know what the future would look like or how things could ever be ok again. So you did what you could. You held on to George.

End

**

Edit: There is now a part 2 and I promise it’s happier than this 👀

**

So... sorry 🥺 If you did enjoy this (or if your heart was broken) please let me know - reblogs and comments do a lot to motivate my writing, and my posts aren’t showing up in tags atm so reblogs are the only way to spread them 💖💖

Also feel free to check out my other stuff (mostly fluff I promise) and my writing challenge. Thank you for reading 💕

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Injured

A/N: Here is my entry into the wonderful @nebulablakemurphy ‘s 500 followers writing challenge! Congratulations again! I loved the prompt, it’s in bold in the fic! I hope you all enjoy! Thank you for letting me take part in your challenge! :) I know I’ve written something similar to this before but there are some differences and who doesn't love reading healing fics? 

Summary: Sirius is injured on a mission. 

Pairing: Sirius Black X Fem!Reader

Warnings: descriptions of injuries, a gross misuse of commas

Word count: 2.9k

Sirius slumps against the garden wall; holding a hand to his bleeding arm. He grits his teeth against the pain, resisting the growing urge to moan in pain.

A rogue spell had hit him after his cover had been blown on a mission. The Death Eaters he were following had been tipped off to his presence and retaliated from the first sign of his appearance.

It got nasty quickly.

Sirius had always been talented with duelling spells; practicing most of them on Severus Snape through his formative years at Hogwarts.

But twelve years imprisoned in Azkaban had made his reflexes a little rusty.

Sirius hisses, putting pressure on the wound to stem the bleeding. He wouldn’t be able to heal this on his own; he was already feeling woozy from the blood loss. The swears that leaving his mouth in response to the pain, would turn even the dirtiest of cheeks red.

He gathers what little strength he has left and enters Grimmauld Place.

-----------------------------------

From your place in the kitchen, you have a clear view of the front door. The minute Sirius left on his mission, you had sat down in that very spot and you wouldn’t move until he walked through the door again.

From your place in the kitchen, you see Sirius walk through the front door – face pale, arm bleeding.

He sags heavily against the wall; his face drawn with pain. You shoot up out of your seat, practically running the ten feet to him.

Your eyes take in the damage: a deep cut running down the length of his upper arm, and it was bleeding heavily. You knew then that his mission had gone wrong and he had been very close to dying tonight. Your heart skips a beat at the very thought; a life without Sirius would be like living with half a heart.

You smile as calmly as you can, “Alright, sweetheart. I think we’re going to need to sort this out, don’t you?”

“You’re not wrong, darling.”

You wrap an arm around his waist; supporting his weight as you walk down the hall to the kitchen where you could get him sat down.

“Harry?” You call; sitting Sirius down at the large kitchen table.

“Is he going to be okay?” Harry questions, his voice wobbling despite his best attempt to not let it. He had followed you out from his place in the kitchen; he had chosen to spend time with you to get to know you better as his Godmother rather than stay upstairs with Ron and Hermione.

“He’s going to be just fine, but I need to you to go find me some things okay?”

“What do you need?”

“I need a towel and a fresh shirt for Sirius too – a button up if you can find one. Can you get those for me please?”

“I’ll be right back with them.”

He disappears; you can hear his feet clattering up the stairs – in a rush to get what you asked for. You head to the kitchen, grabbing a pair of scissors from the draw before reaching for one of the many first aid kits hidden around the house.

“Sirius, I know how much you love this jacket and shirt but I’m going to have to cut off the sleeve.”

He groans; half from the pain in his arm and half from the pain of losing this jacket. “Babe, they’re my favourite.”

“I will buy you another, I promise, but I need to cut off the sleeve so I can heal your arm.”

You focus all of your attention on the man in front of you as you cut away the sleeve of his jacket. “How do you feel?” You whisper.

“In pain, but I’m coping.”

“Take a swig of this,” You say, handing him the pain potion kept in the first aid kit.

Harry returns with a towel and the fresh shirt for Sirius. You smile at him gratefully; you know he wants to stay, that he wants to make sure his Godfather is okay, but this isn’t something for him to watch no matter all that he’s been through at his age.

“I’ll come get you when I’m done, okay? He’ll be okay, Harry, I promise.”

Harry is reluctant to leave, but he looks at Sirius who nods slightly. “You don’t need to see this, Harry.” Harry frowns but he goes; no doubt going to tell Ron and Hermione what’s happening.

You turn back to the love of your life, “Right then Handsome, let’s get this sorted.”

“I love it when you call me Handsome.”

“I know you do. Has the pain potion kicked in?”

He nods.

It takes no time at all. You whisper ‘Ferula’ over the wound; watching as the bleeding stops and his skin knits back together again.

Healing Sirius was something you had become accustomed to over the length of your relationship with him. Through Hogwarts, he was known for getting in scraps whether they were physical or magical. And then through the first wizarding war with the first Order; healing him over and over again – he would trust no-one else. The second wizarding war was, so far, no different.

You and Sirius had always revolved around each other; as if planets in orbit. He naturally gravitated towards you and you blended seamlessly with the rest of the Marauders. For so long, you danced around each other. Touches would linger; smiles would be wider; longing looks from across the room when the other wasn’t looking. Sirius would look at you as if you had hung the moon and stars in the sky each night for him. You would look at him as if he were the sun personified.

Things changed in Sixth Year when confessions were whispered in the darkest corners of the library and kisses exchanged until thrown out by Madame Pince.

Eloping after James and Lily’s wedding was something that wasn’t planned, but Sirius had taken one look at you in your bridesmaid dress, standing so proudly next to Lily and decided that he was going to marry you. Through their reception, when friends and family were occupied with the couple’s first dance, Sirius pulled you in a corner where a private moment could be shared. His proposal was a whisper in your ear; your acceptance was an exhilarating kiss.

You were married just over a week later. Remus, Lily, and James witnessing the ceremony each with tears in their eyes.

The time apart from him was a pain that could not be described; how every day you rolled over to his side of the bed expecting him to be there, his hair mussed with sleep. For twelve years, you woke each morning alone, but you knew that whatever you were experiencing was nothing compared to Sirius’ experiences.

You didn’t think you would ever see him again, but he showed up on the doorstep one day. he had aged, but then again, so had you.

“It’s been an age, darling.” Were the only words he spoke to you before you pulled him in for a hug.

However, you quickly pushed him away at his smell. “I’ve travelled for days to see my wife who I haven’t seen for over a decade and you push me away saying I smell.” He states in disbelief as you pushed him towards the bathroom with a towel.

“Talk to me when you smell better, Black. I’ll be waiting.”

“You better be, Black.” The mention of your married name, a name you hadn’t gone by for years, had you biting your lip.

“What are you thinking of?” Sirius’ voice sounds, pulling you from your reminiscing.

You take in the scene before you: Sirius’ arm is fully healed, dried blood crusted around the pale pink scar.

You clear your throat as you reach for the towel and some antiseptic, cleaning the scar even though the risk of infection was now low, “I was thinking of us.”

“Us?”

You nod, “Our relationship from Hogwarts to now.”

Sirius chuckles, “No wonder you were so quiet. We have decades to go through.”

It took time to reach this point in your relationship. You had loved the man almost twenty years, but the time apart changed the both of you in ways neither one could imagine. It took time to relearn the quirks and habits of each other, but learn you did. You were both still surprising the other, but the one constant between the two of you remains the overwhelming love you feel for the other.

“Okay, let’s get you out of this shirt.” You start to unbutton to the first buttons to his shirt, the first of his many, many tattoos making an appearance.

“If you wanted me undressed, love, all you had to do was ask.”

You fix him with a flat, unimpressed look, “Sirius, that line has never worked on me nor will it. Now would you like to take off your shirt or shall I?”

He fixes you with a smirk, gesturing to his chest with his one good hand, “I’ll let you do the honours.”

“I married a ridiculous man.”

“But you love me.”

“But I love you, even if you do ruin your clothes.”

His top half is entirely bare now. You swallow at the sight of all of his tattoos now on display. Tattoos on Sirius were never a new experience for you, he got as many as he could the moment he left Hogwarts. It was hard to keep track of them all, however. Your eyes run over the date of your wedding tattooed over his heart; affection for the man in front your surging through you.

“You get your good arm through, and I’ll help with your bad arm and the buttoning up.”

He follows your instructions, and then follows your movements with his eyes.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t be able to do this without you.”

“The feelings mutual, Mr. Black.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Mrs. Black.” He drawls, a slow smile spreading over his lips, crinkling his grey eyes.

His shirt is soon buttoned up; tattoos covered save for the one decorating his hands. Hands which are now cradling your face and pulling you in for a kiss. One hand travels into your hair, the other remains on your cheek. You brace yourself on his thighs, smiling against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his mouth hot and insistent on yours.

It was routine after a mission, no matter who’s, to greet each other with a kiss. A reminder that you’d made it home, back to the other. A promise to never leave the other without a goodbye. It had been delayed due to his injury, but Sirius was making time up now.

Sirius pulls away first, yawning. You chuckle, “Come on, old timer. Let’s get you to bed.”

Sirius squawks indignantly, “We are the same age!” He tries to say more but he’s stopped by another yawn. The adrenaline and loss of blood now taking its toll on his body.

You tap his knee, “I think we should head upstairs to bed.”

Sirius nods, admitting defeat, letting you pull him up from his seat.

You help Sirius up the stairs to your shared room. He flops down immediately on the bed, careful not to jostle his freshly healed arm. He watches you flit about the room, tidying up dropped clothes and sorting out the dressers.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

“You’re tidying – you only tidy to this extent when you’re upset. Remember when Marlene died? I don’t think our house had a speck of dust for a month. So what’s wrong?”

You hold a discarded shirt to your chest; knowing immediately from the smell that it’s his. “It doesn’t matter how many times I do this, how many times I heal you, it will always be hard.”

Sirius’ face crumples, “Sweetheart…”

“Every time you head out a mission, my stomach churns constantly. I thought it would go after so long; after the first war but it hasn’t. Sirius,” You sob quietly, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Come on.” Sirius pats the bare space next to him, urging to lie next to him. He wraps his arms around you; his hand running up and down your arm in a comforting manner. You take in his familiar scent – cinnamon, cloves and sweet orange with a hint of tobacco that no matter how long he hasn’t smoked for, will always linger in his clothes. Your heart starts to calm from his smell and his actions.

“Darling, I will always come back to you. Even Azkaban couldn’t keep me from you. I’d fight tooth and nail to be able to return to you. They could send me to another planet, another universe and I would still come back to you.”

“Here you are, injured and you’re the one comforting me.” You mutter, drying your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“It is interesting how we got into this position. But I don’t mind, my love.”

You chuckle, “How does your arm feel?”

“Entirely healed, thanks to you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll always fight for you too, Sirius.”

“I know you will,” He says, quietly.

Quiet falls across the room; the only sounds being the ticking of the clock and the synchronised breaths of the both of you.

You begin to pull away from the embrace, throwing your legs over the side of the bed. Sirius’ hand stops you, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to tell our Godson that you’re okay. He’ll be waiting for us.”

“Don’t go.” Sirius says, a pleading note in his voice. He wanted to end the night with you; holding you or you holding him, he wasn’t bothered. He just wanted to be near you; needed to hear your heartbeat after coming so close to never hearing it again.

“Sirius, Harry will be up all night worried.”

“Stay with me until I fall asleep.” Sirius whispers, not wanting to disturb the peaceful atmosphere in the room. “I’ll see him tomorrow, I promise.”

You shuffle on the bed, pulling the duvet covers over you both. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You murmur, a hand running through his long hair.

Sirius remains silent for a while, enjoying the feel of your hand in his hair. He’s silent for so long that you think he’s fallen asleep until he asks quietly. “What are your plans after the war?”

“I’m not sure. You remember how it was last time? We made plans and they didn’t happen.”

“I’m not going anywhere this time though.”

You sigh, thinking it over, “I’d like to move back to the country, I think. Buy a cottage large enough for the three of us. I think I’ve spent enough of my life living in terror to deserve some peace.”

“The three of us?”

“Yes. You, me, and Harry. Look, he only has to return to his aunt and uncles for long enough for the protective charm to restore itself. For every other holiday, he’s living with me and you. I spent too long away from my Godson, it’s time I stepped up to the job James and Lily gave me.”

“So you want him with you?”

“He’s my godson too, Sirius. I love him just as much as you. I was also a part of the decision made by Dumbledore that night.”

Sirius relaxes further, if that’s possible at all, your voice lulling him close to sleep. “So a cottage?”

“A cottage. An ivy-covered cottage with a front and back garden where I can grow my own vegetables. We’re going to have a large kitchen where I can bake and you can cook, and hopefully teach Harry how to cook other meals than breakfast. It’ll have three bedrooms; one for us, one for Harry and one to be used as a guest room because I have no doubt that Ron and Hermione will be visiting us. Harry’s room, he can entirely decorate on his own – he can make the choices for it all. We’ll help, of course, with anything he asks us to, but it’ll be his own space where he can relax and be himself. And the centre of the house will be the living area which has nothing but warmth for those who want to sit with us. A place for our friends and family to come visit and not have any stresses while they’re there.”

Sirius’ breaths become slower and slower the more you describe your planned future for all of you. In no time at all, he’s snoring away – completely relaxed with a muscled arm thrown over your waist. You smile serenely down at him, your hand still running through his hair.

With your other hand, you grab your wand from the bedside table, casting the Patronus Charm to send a message to Harry – he’s okay, he’s asleep, come see him in the morning.

In the morning you would be woken by Harry, peeking his head into the room as you had forgotten to check in on him last night. You’d smile at him sleepily whilst holding a finger to your lips, nodding down to where Sirius sleeps – his head on your chest, legs thrown on top of yours effectively pinning you to the bed. But he’d be okay. He’d be completely healed. Sirius would wake more determined to get to that little cottage in the country.

For now though, you were happy to doze off with the love of your life in your arms, no longer injured and planning your future.

********

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter @obsessedwithrandomthings @kalimagik @summer-writes @lupins-sweater @slytherinprincess03 @mischiefsemimanaged @soleil-amaryllis @masterofthedarkness @bforbroadway @chaotic-fae-queen @peachesandpinks @nebulablakemurphy @haphazardhufflepuff @siriusly-addicted-to-writing @firewhisky-kisses @deafgirltingz @kylosleftbuttcheek @heloisedaphnebrightmore @harrypotter289 @sprvpti @accio-rogers

Sirius Black taglist: @cheapglitter @fific7

[quietmyfearswith]

to build a home {dark!bucky barnes x fem!reader}

to build a home {dark!bucky barnes x fem!reader}

status — ongoing (?) idk i had a second part in mind but we’ll see

warnings —  somnophilia (so non-con), male mastubration, unprotected penetrative sex (in my head the reader has birth control), rough sex, hints at breeding kink, slight praise kink, degradation, attempt at fluff, i think thats all but let me know if i miss something

word count — 9,351 words

a/n — i had this idea for an airbnb thing where the host was into the guest and perfect timing that @imanuglywombat​ was having a challenge, congratulations by the way on your achievement! and one of the moodboards was a mountain-themed one (the one at the left) and the prompt that i chose was  By the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top/I climbed the tree to see the world/When the gusts came around to blow me down/I held on as tightly as you held onto me which is an excerpt from the song to build a home by the cinematic orchestra. i tried not to directly quote the lyrics but instead imply it as best as i can. had fun writing this and was the longest fic i’ve ever written. feedback would be very much appreciated,, have a great day and stay safe guys!

masterlist

 Bucky Barnes needed a vacation.

Needed, not wanted or desired, for it was what he required in order to function like a proper human being. Considering every bullshit he’s been through — the world war, the brainwashing, fighting for his life, dying and then being brought back to life — he was definitely entitled to a break.

After bringing everyone back, the team now strives to bring back order and peace. Bucky agreed to be part of the Avengers and SHIELD, but with a unique position. He’d train and prepare their recruits by whipping them into shape and go on missions only if he was deemed as an essential asset. The only reason he took that position because that was what Steve did as he passed down the title of Captain America to Sam. Stark too just became one of the representatives of the organization in order to focus on his family.

It was tricky at first — looking for food and water, source of electricity, gathering supplies, and having the money to do so. That’s when Tony suggested he put his a-framed house on an application called Airbnb. He was confused at first but his simple understanding was that someone would pay him if he agreed to share his house for a given number of days.

It was tricky at first — looking for food and water, source of electricity, gathering supplies, and having the money to do so. That’s when Tony suggested he put his a-framed house on an application called Airbnb. He was confused at first but his simple understanding was that someone would pay him if he agreed to share his house for a given number of days.

The suggestion worked well. Most of those who booked stayed one day and one night, the longest someone stayed was two days and a night. And it wasn’t because he used to be the Winter Soldier and they feared him, but simply because they needed a place to stay before heading up further into the mountains.

Despite the house having three bedrooms, Bucky only posted one being available. The other two bedrooms he prohibited the guests to stay on, even to enter, since those were reserved for him and Steve. Vacationers who stayed in here were very much respectful of his wishes and didn’t pry further more.

As he was watering the selection of plants, vegetables, and fruits that he has, he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. Setting the watering can down, he pulled out his phone and noticed how there was notification saying that someone booked the available bedroom he had.

“Booked for 2 weeks?” He read out loud the details of how long the stay of his upcoming visitor would last. It was odd to say the least, but who was he to judge someone for their stay? Tucking the phone back to his pants, he noticed how Alpine was drinking from the watering can he put down, he stroked her fur and smiled when he purred and nuzzled her face further into his palm, “Looks like we’ll have someone staying with us for quite a while, Al,” the 3 month old kitten simply looked up at him and purred once more, “Be a good girl for me alright?”

Following the notice that someone was gonna stay in his house for two weeks, Bucky busied himself in preparing the house — which took only two days for him to do so. He made sure that the rented bedroom was cleaned and that the bed sheets were changed and cleaned. Cleaning up Alpine’s hairballs and fallen furs was something he also did in preparation.

It was a sunny Tuesday morning and he was sitting down on one of the patio chairs, reading a book with Alpine on his lap, when he heard a car pulling up. Setting the book down on the small patio table, he took in the Jeep Wrangler that was parking, but what really caught his attention was who stepped out of the car.

“Hi, I’m Y/N! Are you Bucky? The one who owns the place I’ll be renting for the next two weeks?” Her tone was gentle and friendly, but it was her smile that really captured Bucky’s attention even more. Shakily, he replied, “Yeah, it’s me. Nice to meet you,” he held out his right hand — his other hand had a glove to conceal the metal — for her to shake, to which she shook his hand. 

“Oh there’s the cat you mentioned,” she unclasped her hand with his and took note of the fur ball that was standing beside Bucky — it was just really her way of getting his attention and wanting more rubs. “Oh yeah, this is Alpine, hope you’re not allergic or anything?” he wondered as he picked Alpine up and massaged her face a bit, to which she purred loudly. 

Y/N chuckled at the scene in front of her, “Not allergic, just wasn’t around cats a lot so I’m not used to them.” Bucky admired her honesty and assured her, “Well don’t worry about her, she’s extremely well-behaved.”

Usually, the guests had no problem bringing in their things from their respective cars and into their room. But there was something about her aura and personality that made him want to stay close to her as much as he could. So he suggested that he help her in bringing in her items. “Did you run away or something? Because I’m telling you now, near the mountains might not be the ideal place to do so,” he joked as he carried two of her duffel bags. As he opened the door to where she’d be sleeping for almost half a month, he put down her bags on top of the dresser.

Y/N set down the backpack and messenger bag she had near the night side table, “Well if the mountains aren’t ideal, then why are you here then?” she retorted back as she sat down on the edge of the bed. Bucky leaned on the dresser and crossed his arms and looked at her with wonder, “So you’re gonna turn this back on me huh?” he teased her.

To which she giggled at, “I’ll tell you my reason for staying here for two weeks if you tell me how you ended up here,” she persuaded him. He sighed dramatically and smiled right after hearing her laugh again at his antics, “The simple answer? I’m here for a vacation. A much needed and a long overdue one at that. How about you?”

She pursed her lips and nodded, she felt that maybe there was more to that but didn’t want to seem nosy so she explained her stay, “Well I’m here to test out some mountain and hiking equipment. It’s my work actually we’re this company that advertises and reaches out to endorsers and tells them about certain products like that one,” she pointed to the duffel bags behind him, “I get to test them, give them an honest review of the products and then let them know.”

“Huh, that’s a unique job,” he said as he ran his hand on his stubbled chin, “Well, I’m gonna let you settle down for now. Feel free to roam around the house, the other two bedrooms are the only ones off-limits,” he informed her and started to make his way out of the bedroom when he heard her call out, “Thanks, Bucky! You’re a great host, so far. Just let me know when I annoy you too much!”

Though it was meant to be a joke, the super soldier thought to himself, Don’t think you will ever annoy me, baby girl.

Before it was even noon, Bucky found himself preparing pasta. What was unusual, is that he was making food enough for the both of them. Usually, he wouldn’t go out of his way to prepare meals for his guests; but he would allow them to use the kitchen as they please as long given that they clean it up after and place things back as they were. But there was something about Y/N that inspired him to make an effort. 

Just as he turned the stove off and closed the lid with his left hand that had an oven mitt, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs, and he looked up to see her descending form and smiled warmly at her, “I cooked some pasta, just if you wanna eat or something,” he nervously mumbled as she finally stopped on the opposite side of where he was and sat down on one of the bar stools. “Smells good, I’d love to have a bite if you will too.” 

Bucky then brought out two bowls and as he filled them with pasta, Alpine was clawing at his feet and her paws felt a bit warm to his legs that were exposed since he was wearing basketball shorts. As he handed her one of the bowls, he bent down and tucked his beloved kitten onto the sweater he wore, so her head was the only thing seen as it dangled from the neckline of his sweater. “That’s adorable! She just really loves you doesn’t she?” Y/N cooed watching how the kitten peacefully closed her eyes and snuggled closer to Bucky even though he walked around before sitting down beside her, she noticed as well how he didn’t care to remove the mitt on his left hand.

“I was surprised as well with how she loved human touch, which made me think that she isn't a cat but instead a dog, actually,” he shared as she looked at Y/N and smiled as she laughed as she ate. “Though I am curious as to why you’re wearing a sweater when it’s one of the hottest days of July?” As soon as the question left her mouth, she felt how there had been a shift in the atmosphere. How the fun and breezy energy they both were radiating earlier had been converted into something that was stiff and somber.

“I mean, you don’t really need to tell me,” she assured him right away, her right hand reaching for his left forearm and she gently caressed it even though she found it odd how his arm seemed to be more rigid than it looked like, “I was just worried that you might get too hot to the point of dehydration or heat stroke or something like that.” Bucky nodded and went back to ingesting the meal he cooked.

“You’re already hot, but I don’t want you to be too hot to the point you combust,” that comment of hers was something she muttered lowly. But it wasn’t soft enough to get past his super soldier hearing, “Did you say something?” Bucky asked and he tried his best for his facial features to not give away the fact that he heard her clearly. With wide eyes, she just shook her head and quickly filled her mouth with pasta to avoid explaining what it was she said.

Deciding to spare her from shame and embarrassment, he decided to change the topic by asking, “Do you have an itinerary for today?” He looked at her and saw how she had already finished her pasta and was making a move to wash her bowl and utensils, “I’m planning to go for a bit of hike — to test out some items like trekking poles, water jug, backpack, and this windbreaker they made me try out.”

“That sounds fun,” Bucky commented as he placed the fork on his bowl, waiting for her to finish cleaning up, “Would you wanna tag along with me?” as she looked up to ask him, she looked nervous. Perhaps she was filled with doubts and hesitation that she might seem invasive of his privacy, and indeed, that was what she was thinking about.

Smiling warmly at her, Bucky expressed his desire to join her in the hike, “I’d love to join you, doll.”

45 minutes had already passed since they started their hike and there was probably a few more minutes before they would finally reach the higher portion of the mountain. “I think it’s great you agreed to come along with me, Bucky,” the super soldier heard her mention behind him. He was taking the lead and guiding her as she followed him and held on to her trekking poles to stabilize her. “Why’d you think that, doll?” He looked back to her and held his right hand for her to take, to which she did and helped her go higher than to where she was currently.

She let out a breath, which made him chuckle at her antics, “Well for one, I wouldn’t have an amazing tour guide,” she teased him as she jokingly nudged his abdomen with her finger. Normally, Bucky would flinch or turn away when someone he doesn’t really know or is not completely familiar with touches him, especially when it was the metal arm. But this was already the third time she’d touch her and in those three times he did once did not find it uncomfortable. 

“And second, I’d get lonely during this trip,” she concluded as she smiled brightly at him. “I’m glad to have joined you as well, doll.” The nickname he gave her made her blush to which he thought that the rose color looked good on her. “And I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s an amazing view behind me. So enjoy the view, doll.” When Bucky moved to the side, that was when Y/N had a chance to fully see the view, and it was unlike anything she has ever seen. The clear lake was breathtaking & the clouds were scattered in the sky though it did not shelter the sunlight. “Wow,” she breathed out and turned to her host and tilted her head when he saw his gloved hands reaching for his backpack and getting a blanket and laid it on the ground. As he sat on it, he patted the spot beside him, a cue for her to take the spot.

Putting her backpack down, she placed the trekking poles beside it before settling on the spot the man beside her patted. “You come here often?” she inquired, she was pretty sure he did since he knew how to get there quickly and safely. “Not everyday, just when I’m bored with housework,” he said as he took off the glove in his right hand.

She nodded and went to get the thermos from her backpack, as well as some chips and chocolates that she offered him, to which the super soldier opted for the chocolate. “So it means you are always here then huh?” she joked to which he laughed loudly, and she thought how adorable it was to see him crinkle the side of his eyes as he carelessly threw his head back in laughter. “I’m serious! You can only do so much housework before you get bored in your house!” she argued.

“Honestly, I’d rather be bored,” Bucky started as he munched on the chocolate she’d given, “For the longest time I was always busy, to put it nicely. And it’s a relief to be ridden of exhausting responsibilities.” Her heart ached at what he said, she might have not fully known what his work was but she could feel the exasperation in his voice. “Sorry for what I said, I was just teasing you,” she offered him a small smile.

Tickling her sides, he relished in the giggles she released, “I know, we don’t need to bring the mood down,” he assured her, “So, what is your review so far of the items you have?” His mention of it did remind her how she needed to take note of how she was satisfied or dissatisfied with the products, shuffling through the things in her backpack, she reached for the notebook which housed the feedback she had for different products.

Writing down her remarks, she also voiced it out for Bucky to hear, “The water jug did keep my water cold. Backpack’s material was not too heavy but it was able to fit all of my items. And this windbreaker,” she struck a pose which once again made Bucky laugh and it made her feel good to know that she can get him to laugh, “Did make me sweat but it’s too thin it’s making me chilly.”

Just as she mentioned how the windbreaker failed to prevent her from feeling cold, there was a gust of cool wind that when she felt it graze her skin, made her visibly shiver. Bucky didn’t like how she frowned on the sensation of being hit with the frosty breeze and wrapped her arms around herself; despite only wearing his sweater and a jacket, he didn’t have to react the same way thanks to the serum. He moved behind her and pressed his chest against her back, wrapping both his arms around her; his right hand wrapped around her stomach while the left hand rested on her thigh.

A sharp intake of breath signified how she was taken aback, but she didn’t find it awkward and instead she found herself instinctively leaning against his chest until the top of her head was just right under his chin. “Is this alright?” she wondered to him, and when she sounded so small, so vulnerable. As he smiled, he comforted her, “Wouldn’t have come close to you if it wasn’t alright, now would I?”

To hide the blush starting to form, she turned away from him and began to write on her notebook about her observations. They sat comfortably in silence; Bucky’s eyes wandered around the scenery, while Y/N was heavily focused on writing the feedback for the different products she got to try so far. The hand on her thigh that was gently caressing her and the steady yet strong heartbeat of the man behind her provided her with a sense of tranquility unlike anything she ever felt. 

Leaving the pen on the inside of the notebook, she closed it and placed it beside her backpack. While still looking at the lake she shared with him, “I’ve always wanted to live by the lake.” Not having enough of her warmth and wanting to be close to her, he pushed himself even closer to her, to the point their thighs were now touching each other. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back so the back of her head touched his right shoulder, “Always loved being in the water — whether I’m swimming or rowing a boat. Doesn’t matter what as long as I’m near the water I’m the happiest there.” As she said that he couldn’t help as his mind was filled with the images of the two of them living together and going for daily trips to the lake. And how they’d probably end up fucking or making love by the lake. 

Managing to bring himself back to the present, Bucky suggested, “Why not live with me then? That way you’ll always be a few minutes away from the lake.” Her laugh was so loud that he felt the vibrations of it through his chest with how close they were. “Don’t wanna burden you forever, you know? But maybe when I’ve saved enough and I don’t know, have the ability to work from home, I might just move near a lake.” 

He frowned at her thought that she considered himself a burden. They’ve spent almost a day and yet he knew in himself how he wanted to spend every day of his life with her. It might seem too soon for that, but he argued that he felt safe with her. That she made him happy. But there was this thought that lingered on his mind; that he was just deprived of affection for the longest time and now that someone’s been showering him with it, he doesn’t want to go a day without experiencing it ever again.

“Well, you’re always welcome in my house, it’s not really much of a home to me anyway,” the optimism in the first part was overshadowed by the sadness in the latter part of his statement. She looked over at Bucky and was saddened to see how his shoulders dropped and there was a sad smile on his lips, “What?” Because what else could she really say?

His eyes refused to meet her concerned orbs, and instead looked at anything but her. “With everything I’ve been through and done, it would be difficult for me to find someone to settle down with.” Upon hearing this, Y/N felt glum with Bucky's response and with how he looked as he said it. She held his right hand and squeezed it reassuringly, “Whatever it is you’ve done and been through is in the past. I’m sure that you’ve changed and grown from who you once were. You deserve to be happy, Bucky.”

What if I wanna be happy with you, baby? He thought to himself for a few seconds, and in a split second decision, he unclasped their hands and reached to where his left hand was still wrapped with a glove. “I’m going to be showing you something, and before you can ask me anything, I’d rather get everything off my chest first, alright?” Y/N looked uneasy yet at the same time curious with what he was going to open up to her. 

Untangling his arms from her warmth, he first took care of removing the jacket he wore. She turned to face him and was eager to ask questions but chose to remain silent. As he placed the jacket on top of his bag, he removed the glove that shielded her from fully seeing the lack of flesh on his left hand and instead was greeted with metal.

Y/N lets out a loud gasp as she looks down on the prosthetic arm Bucky had. As her gaze shifted from his hand to his eyes, the super soldier could see how her face wrinkled not in pity, but in worry and concern. What happened? Who did this to you? Did it hurt? Are you still in pain? Those were the four questions that were loitering her mind and Bucky somehow had the idea that those were the things that she had in mind.

“I don’t know if you know, but I was the Winter Soldier. HYDRA, an evil organization, brainwashed me and made me do their dirty work. When they found me, I had fallen off a ravine which made me lose my arm. They gave me a metal one, to make me stronger and more invincible I guess.” Even though he only provided her a summary of what he’s been through, he failed to realize how a few stray tears escaped his eyes. Dainty and delicate fingers wiped his tears away and he smiled at the action. 

They both were silent for a few moments, the hundred year old man was bracing himself for the moment Y/N was going to bid him adieu, and he wouldn’t blame her for who would want someone with so much baggage? “You said it yourself, Bucky, you were brainwashed,” she soothed him as her hands settled on his stubbled cheeks and her touch was feather-like and was giving him comfort unlike any other, “That wasn’t what you wanted to do. They forced you to do it. I’m sorry that that happened to you, but you don’t need to let your past define how your future will turn out to be. You’re free now, you take control of your fate.”

She ended her statement by placing a warm kiss on his forehead; the action had Bucky smiling and looking at her sheepishly with crimson in his cheeks. “You’re too kind, doll,” he shyly responded to her assurance. “I meant every word, Bucky. You deserve to be happy,” she then hugged him tight, her smaller frame snuggling into his larger one. With the side of her face resting on his chest and his chin resting on the top of her head, she failed to see how Bucky was smiling widely as a thought and plan came into his mind. I will be happy, baby. Soon, with you.

Following their small heart-to-heart talk, they both went home just as the sun set — not before taking a few pictures of course, mostly of Y/N because Bucky loved how the combination of pink and yellow complimented her skin — so he wanted to take photographs to remind him of this lovely memory. And as they both went home, they bonded even more as they ate dinner. 

The following day, however, they both didn’t get to spend as much time as Bucky would have wanted. She told him during breakfast how today she’ll try the pocket WiFi that was given to her. And in the process of doing so she would be having meetings with some of her co-workers. Instead of sulking around, the war veteran tended to his garden, harvesting the vegetables and plants that he deemed were already ready to be eaten, he also washed and dried his laundry, and cleaned Alpine’s litter box. 

By the time he had done all his chores, it was already quarter to 5 pm when he settled on continuing to read the book on the porch with Alpine once again laying on his lap. Today’s heat had been more cruel than it was yesterday and with his lovely guest not knowing about the truth of his left arm, he traded the long sleeves for a tank top paired with basketball shorts. Just as he was reading about the climax of the novel, he heard the front door opening and footsteps approaching him, “Hey Bucky, how you doing?” 

The mentioned man placed his book down on the table and turned to her with a smile, “Busied myself with housework. Are you done with your test and meetings?” He hoped that she was done with her work, he already missed spending time with her and he wondered that maybe this was what Alpine felt like whenever she wanted to be snuggling next to Bucky. “Yeah I’m done for today! And I was thinking that maybe I can cook something? Was there something you’d like to have for dinner?”

The cheeky part of him thought of telling her how he’d love to have her for dinner but decided he did not want to creep her out. “Surprise me with you culinary skills, doll,” he challenged her and he chuckled with how she responded, “You bet! I’ll make a meal that will make you forget your name with how good it is!”

Throughout the entire time that she made the meal, he kept her company and the conversation between the two flowed effortlessly. Every possible topic that they could talk about, you can bet that they talked about it. And even as they were both eating supper, they both shared more about their personal life. Bucky shared about how things were back in the 40’s and how he missed dancing.; while she shared more about her family and the different jobs she had.

One thing that Bucky was more than pleased to find out was that she was single and had not been dating anyone for a while. After dinner, Y/N found herself wanting to sleep right away due to exhaustion of her work-filled day. But before she did, she asked Bucky if it was alright for them to go back to the lake since she wanted to go for a swim, to which he replied with, “If it’ll make you happy, doll, then I’ll do it.” She masked the giddiness she felt by telling him goodnight and how she couldn’t wait to go.

As the super soldier laid down on his bed, he couldn’t prevent the goofy grin forming on his lips as he recalled how close he got with one of his guests. He never imagined how she could have made this impact on him in a short amount of time. Though he failed to bond with her for the majority of the day, he reassured himself that tomorrow — and possibly the next few days — they’d both get to make up for it. But there was something inside him that seemed too impatient to wait, and instead was extremely eager to start compensating for the time they failed to spend with each other.

Which led him to where he was right now; walking out of his bedroom as he strides with purpose and like a possessed man making his way to where the girl who plagued his mind currently was peacefully sleeping. Quietly, he opened the door just enough for him to take a peek to see if she was startled by the action even though Bucky did so with caution. Not noticing any movement or reaction, he opened the door wide enough to allow himself to enter and closed it as he welcomed himself in her room. Standing at the foot of the bed, he couldn’t help but admire her sleeping form; she was laying on her right side with her right hand pressed to her cheek and her left arm propped down on her waist. He noticed how the end of the blanket that was draped over was along the middle region of her thighs, exposing her lower legs.

He stood there, marveling at how peaceful and how pure she looked. He imagined himself snuggling her frame and providing her with warmth whenever the night got too chilly. Or how he wouldn’t mind her using his metal arm as her pillow as long as he got to run his fingers through her skin in an attempt to lull her to sleep. Or how he would whisper sweet nothings and words of assurance to her should she awake due to a nightmare.

The wholesome and loving thoughts he had took a different turn when her left hand unconsciously  bunched up the sheets and moved it away from her body, which exposed her unclothed body to the hungry eyes of Bucky. She laid there with no clothing of any kind and the blanket — which was now pooling between her under boob and just below her navel — now barely concealed her body. His gaze was now roaming around her body and hungirly took in the view; her breasts looking as if it was the most delectable thing he’d ever seen with her gum drop nipples all stiff due to the wind, her luscious legs were just begging to be touched and worshiped, and her cunt, that though he couldn’t properly get an entire view of due to how she was facing the wall but from from where he stood he can see how pretty and enticing it was with how she chose to groom it. 

One thing that he was more than grateful for is that her ass was fully exposed and should he choose to sit on the chair that was right across where she laid, he would have gotten a great view of it; and so he did. Sitting down on the chair, he found himself lowering the boxer shorts he wore that suddenly became too tight for his cock that hardened. “Fuck,” he hissed as he began to slowly stroke himself, teasing himself and wanting to savor the view that he had.

From slowly running his hand up and down his shaft, those strokes became fast as his mind was filled with images and scenarios of him taking Y/N in various ways.

“Fuck Bucky, harder,” she moaned as she felt Bucky’s grips on her hips tighten before he controlled her body to match his thrusts, moving her along as he slid in and out of her as a response to her plea. Wanting to feel more of her, one of his hands left her hips to grip her shoulder and pull her to him so her back was pressed against his sweaty chest; to keep her steady and against his chest, the hand on her shoulder detached from her shoulder and moved to hold on to her breast, pulling and tugging on the swollen nipple.

“That what you want, baby girl? Need me to fuck you hard?” He teased her as her whines increased at the assault he was doing to her. She just nodded her head rapidly, but that wasn’t enough for Bucky, he let go of her breast and slapped both of them hard enough to elicit a reaction out of her, “I wanna hear you say it! Say you like getting fucked hard like a slut!” 

“I love it! I love how you’re fucking me like a slut, Bucky!” she moaned out loud and found herself hooking her hand to his hand that wasn’t on her hip. The man simply smirked at how much of a wreck she was and he loved it.  She guided his hand to her neck and his smirk became even more sinister and he let her know his appreciation, “Yeah you’re just a filthy girl aren’t you,” his grip on her neck tightened and he felt her tighten and got the hint that she was close,  “And since I love my filthy girl, why don’t you come for me?”

Bucky knew he was nearing his climax, but he decided that the visual wasn’t enough for him; he needed the actual thing. Completely undressing himself, he walked towards where she was laying and turned her gently so she now laid on her back. “Goddamn you’re beautiful, baby,” he whispered as he kneeled on the bed and his knees were on the sides of her body. He stretched her left leg to the outside of his right knee, her inner thigh grazing his knee. While he lifted her right leg and let it rest on his shoulder.

Rubbing his right hand on her clit, he felt how wet she already was and slid a finger in, moving his finger around, he took note of how she was completely drenched. “I guess you pleasured yourself before sleeping huh?” Pulling his finger out and bringing it to his lips, his suspicion was confirmed as he tasted her sweet juices.

“This’ll be easier then,” he sighed as he pushed his cock in and slid in one swift motion thanks to her juices. He stared off with slow and long thrusts, checking to see if she’ll wake up — thankfully she didn’t. He then took this as his queue to give her harder thrusts, pulling out until his tip lightly brushes the opening of her tight canal and pushing all the way in with force until his balls were pressed tightly against her ass.

“Can’t wait for you to enjoy this when you’re awake doll,” Bucky rasped out in between his thrusts, which were now slowly becoming faster. The speed of his hips were causing the bed to shake and he feared that if it weren’t for his actions, then maybe the sound of the bed hitting the wall would cause her to regain consciousness. But she was so deep in her slumber that she didn’t.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum inside of you. Will mix my juices with yours,” Bucky moaned lowly. And he felt his climax nearing that his judgement was clouded and his sole focus was to let himself go. So he moved around in the bed until his feet hit the floor and spread her both legs wide open to the sides, all without pulling himself out.

Placing his hands on both her inner thighs, he pressed them down and didn’t hold back as he slammed his cock in and out of her pussy. His pelvis met her thighs with each thrust, his hands tightly holding on to her thighs which somehow made her clench down on him even more, his eyes hungrily taking in the sight of her breasts bouncing along with the power of his hips, and the tip of the iceberg was when she began letting out small and quiet whimpers. 

“Shit, you’re squeezing me so well baby,” he breathed out as he slammed himself inside her and stayed planted in here as he felt himself release his load. Head thrown back and panting loudly, she whimpered a little and was clenching her pussy which milked even more of Bucky’s seed. She must be dreaming of someone fucking her, God I hope it’s me she’s thinking about, Bucky thought as he pulled his cock out until only the tip was inside her; he stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t inside her, making sure that every last drop of his seed didn’t drip into the bed and was instead all inside her.

After taking a few minutes to recover, he pulled out completely and positioned her in the bed prior to how she was before he came in. He grabbed his discarded boxers and put them on him. Before walking out of the room he went back to the bed, leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Can’t wait to swim with you baby girl.”

Arising from her sleep, Y/N stretched her body and rubbed the sleepiness off her eyes. She couldn’t help but grin at the memories of how she pleasured herself before she drifted off to dreamland and when she did, her subconscious was somehow able to project a scenario wherein she was getting railed by Bucky. The mention of his name in her mind had her blushing; she brought her fingers down to her pussy to inspect the aftermath of her masturbation and was surprised to see how wet she was and how much she orgasmed.

Before making her way down to greet her host, she first dressed up in her bikini, however she didn’t want to walk down right away only with the flimsy pair, so she wore a tank top and a pair of shorts on top of the swimwear. Making her way down the stairs, she saw Bucky relaxing on the couch and was on his phone, “Good morning, Bucky. Did you sleep well?” 

She plopped herself down at the armchair opposite where Bucky was sitting, and the metal-armed man fumbled to pocket his phone and turn his attention to the girl who warmly greeted him. “I slept peacefully, doll. Where are you headed all dressed up like that?”

“I was hoping we could have brunch by the lake? And then swim afterwards?” She shyly suggested and it was adorable for the veteran to see her all shy and flustered, he didn’t have it in him to reject her idea. “That’s a great idea, doll! I’ve already prepared some food that I can just pack up in tupperwares,” just as he was about to head to the kitchen to do so she stood quickly and told him, “I can do it! My bag’s all ready and I’m dressed up so I can do all those while you get ready.”

He smiled and thanked her for volunteering, he let her know where the tupperwares and picnic baskets were before heading up to change. As he was changing in his room into a navy tank top along with a pair of shorts, he decided that today was the day. He was gonna make his move and let him know that he wants her here with him. 

The drive to the lake had been peaceful; Bucky offered to drive and she accepted so she was left to admire the scenery as they both traveled to their destination. Once Y/N caught a glimpse of the lake, she had already been fumbling to unbuckle her seatbelt and before Bucky had fully parked the car, the front passenger door was already being opened and the woman beside him carried her bag as she excitedly ran towards the dock.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself, doll! Be careful!” He called out to her as he switched off the engine and moved to grab the picnic basket at the backseat. Catching up to where she was standing near the edge of the dock, she turned to him and smiled, “I’m sorry, I just get really excited when I see the water. Plus, it’s been forever since I got to swim,” her exaggeration in the apology had him chuckling and he simply put the basket down and took out the blanket he had and laid it out.

Kneeling down, Bucky then rummaged through the items on the basket, “What do you wanna eat, doll? Want to have some muffins? I also have some bacon if you want,” he looked up to see that his lovely doll was stripping off her top and bottoms, with her back facing him. She folded her clothes and placed it on top of her bag, she turned to him and smiled, “I don’t wanna eat, I want to swim first.” 

The super soldier barely got to process the words that left her mouth as he was admiring the swimsuit she was wearing, “That’s a pretty bikini you have there, doll,” he mindlessly blurted out. She blushed at the praise and he noticed as well how she rubbed her luscious thighs and it got him thinking that maybe she had a praise kink. “It’s one of the eight swimsuits they sent me,” was all she said before she waived and ran towards the end of the dock and jumped as she splashed down on the lake.

Fuck, one of eight swimsuits? She’s trying to kill me. He thought to himself as he felt his cock start to harden at the thought of seeing her in her swimwear and possibly railing her as she wears it. But first, he thought he had to eat up before making those plans and desires come true. 

Y/N was having fun just swimming around. The lake had clear and clean water. She was able to see her feet and the sandy floor through the water. The lack of seaweeds and other aquatic plants on the lake was something she was thankful for since she loathed swimming around and feeling something grazing her leg. 

Quite some time had already passed since Y/N began swimming and Bucky was just sitting there as he ate and was staring at her every movement. “Come join me, Bucky! The water’s not too cold, it’s perfect!” he smiled and put the muffin he was munching on down and moved to take his shirt off.

Her mouth hung agape and a little bit of drool came out of her mouth as she gazed on the man’s body. He was toned and defined; her fingers ached to run it through his wide chest and shoulders and she would have also loved to feel his bulging arms wrapped around her. She was snapped out of her thoughts as she heard a big splash and felt the water moving against her.

“Hi there, beautiful,” having this Adonis of a man face her and greet her sweetly had her giggling. “Good for you to join me; was starting to think you didn’t know how to swim that’s why you didn’t wanna join me,” her accusation had him gasping and feigning hurt. “You really think that lowly of me, doll?”

Y/N swam away from Bucky, creating some distance between them; this had the man tilting his head to the side in curiosity. “Don’t tell me you’re easily hurt by that! I wonder what happens if I challenge you to a splash fight?” Just as she said that she began to flick her wrists to splash some water in Bucky’s direction.

They both were giggling as they both began to soak each other with water. After a while they both stopped and Y/N let her arms float on the water as she stared at the man adoringly; while he thought that it was finally time to speed things up. Swimming towards her, he erased the distance between them and held both her hands against his chest. He felt her breath quicken and she was staring at him with wide and inquisitive eyes.

Lifting both her wrists, he placed a long and sensual kiss on the insides of her wrists. A sharp intake of breath was heard from her lips and he rested her forearms on his shoulders as his flesh hand pulled her closer to him by the hips while his metal hand gently caressed her cheek, “Had your fun already, baby girl?”

With a flushed face she nodded and pursed her lips together, “Don’t do that princess, that’s my job,” Bucky reprimanded her as he brushed his metal thumb in her lips but quickly moved the hand towards the nape of her neck and pulled her close for their lips to collide. He swallowed her whimper of shock and took the opportunity to let his tongue inside her mouth.

Slanting his head, he deepened the kiss as his flesh hand moved to wrap her thigh around his hips in order to get their bodies as close as possible and to feel every inch of her. Bucky smirked as he felt her tongue dancing along with the direction of his tongue and when he felt her hands cup his cheeks he couldn’t hold himself back from placing both his hands to grab her bikini-covered bum and grind her core to his.

“Oh God,” she whimpered against his lips, as if she was starting to pull away; but Bucky didn’t want her to do so, so he chased her lips with his and planted it firmly against her, leaving her no room but to comply with what he wanted.

Her hands traveled down from his cheeks to his neck and down to his shoulders, where she anchored herself to separate her tongue from roaming around his mouth. Her chest was heaving up and down as she stared down at Bucky who was loving this out of breath and dazed state she was in, “What was that?”

Her question made him chuckle darkly before teasing her, “That was just a preview of what’s to come, baby,” this just confused her even more and she tilted her head but he simply removed his hands from her body and she whined at the loss of contact — which Bucky thought as completely adorable — but he kissed her forehead, “Enjoy your swim doll, a few more minutes then we go home, got it?” She nodded and watched as he swam his way to the docks and busied himself with drying himself up and packing up their picnic.

She shrugged off the million thoughts racing through her head and decided that swimming would probably help her clear her head.

Something in the air shifted as they both were driving home after spending nearly two hours by the lake. While keeping his eyes on the road, Bucky’s metal hand was on the steering wheel while his flesh hand was gripping and caressing Y/N’s thighs. He loved how she didn’t flinch when he did so and instead she enveloped his hand with both her thighs.

Upon arriving back at the home, Bucky opened the car door for her and she smiled and thanked him. As he went to retrieve the picnic basket, his doll went ahead to get inside the house and it was finally time for him to make his move.

Placing the basket down on the floor without a care, he grabbed her hand as she was headed for the stairs; her bag falling off her shoulders as a result. “Bucky,” she was cut off as Bucky planted his lips against her and pulled her by the hips to feel her skin against his. She moaned out loud and he smirked as he once again let his tongue inside her and began to roam her insides and massaged her tongue with his.

“I fucking need you, baby,” he rasped out without fully disconnecting his lips from hers, “You gonna let me have you?” she whimpered and simply nodded. This made Bucky happy, and to show his appreciation, he kissed her neck and her collarbones as his hands quickly ripped the material of her shirt against her. A loud gasp was let out, and it informed the man who was vigorously kissing her that she was turned on with what he did.

Placing his hands behind her hips, he guided her walk with him to the couch with his lips still attached to her hot skin. They both worked to remove her of her shorts before Bucky was pushing her to sit down on the couch. “Don’t take your bra off, remove those panties, I wanna see your ass,” he commanded as his eyes roamed around her body as he took his shirt and shorts off, revealing that he didn’t have any underwear on. 

“Press your cheek against the sofa and put your ass up in the air for me, princess,” he groaned upon seeing her full ass on display. He smacked both her cheeks at the same time and chuckled as she shook her ass in response. One hand had a firm grip on her hip while the other stroked his cock and teased the tip on her clit. “You ready, baby? Want to feel my cock inside you?”

She nodded, “Yes please, Bucky, I need to feel you push your cock inside me,” by the end of her whining he had already slid inside her and pushed it all the way until she felt his balls slap against her ass. She let out a dragged moan as he let out profanities and praises about how she enveloped him well.

Pulling his hips back, he thrust right back in which made her moan once again. His other hand was now teasing her clit by rubbing it and he felt her coat his cock with more of her juices. “God, you feel like heaven, princess. Wrapping your tight pussy around me so good,” he threw his head back but his hips were doing the opposite. His pelvis was slamming deep and fast against her that her ass was feeling the friction of his trimmed pubic hair.

“It’s so good, Bucky. Love how you’re pounding me,” the praise and small amount of dirty talk was enough for Bucky to groan and drive his hips even deeper and stronger, if that was even possible. “Fuck you’re so dirty, doll. My dirty doll, right?” he asked as he wrapped a handful of her hair against him and pulled her against him; her back against his chest and he could her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Untying her bra, he tossed it on the floor and both his hands began to twist, pinch, pull, and flick on her nipples. Palming her breasts, he continued to spur him on with his words, “Who knew how much of a filthy princess you were huh? That you were really a slut wanting to get fucked?” she whined out loud and this prompted Bucky to sit down on the couch and drag her with him; ending up in a position that would allow her to ride him. “Ride me, bitch. Ride  me ‘til we both cum,” he was surprised with how she eagerly responded to his command.

She leaned back and planted her hands on his abs and began to lift her body up and down, moving her pussy in and out of his cock. With one hand resting at the back of his head, the other was slapping her ass that was bouncing up and down on him. “Only a slut like yourself knows how to ride a cock this good, baby,” his statement ended with a groan as she stopped her bouncing and was instead sitting with his cock fully inside her, and she began to move in slow and hard circles. As if she was grinding on his dick.

“God, I’m so close, you got me near my edge, slut,” Bucky groaned and slapped both her ass cheeks at the same time, “Face me, baby. Turn around and face me, without leaving my cock.” He grinned as she halted her movements and twisted her body so she was greeted with the sight of Bucky’s chest sweaty and a smirk planted on his lips.

He sat up from his lying position and sat up so their chest were pressed firmly against each other, “Are you close, baby?” She threw her head back and nodded as Bucky began to move his hips so he could match the way she was sliding up and down his cock. Slapping her cheek, not too hard but enough to get her to look at him, he growled, “Tell me, princess. Tell me you’re close and that you wanna cum.”

Her mouth opened but a moan came out of her, he gave her a particularly harsh thrust and she finally gave in, “I wanna cum, Bucky, I need to. Please let me cum on your cock.” He smirked, satisfied with her answer and took control of the tempo of the way she was riding him. Holding on hard enough on her hips, enough to leave marks, he began to lift her up and down on him; he was lifting her up so fast that she barely had time to breathe and the way he slammed her was so hard he could hear their skin slapping against each other.

“You’re squeezing my cock so good, baby” Bucky groaned and he felt how close she was but needed added stimulation to let herself go. He lowered his mouth to cover her nipple with his lips; the sensation of licking and sucking hard on her nipple coupled with the cruel hip thrusts he was giving into her was enough for Y/N to grip on his shoulders and plant her lips on the top of his head, “Bucky, fuck,” was all she was able to let out as a warning for the orgasm that washed over her.

After feeling her juices drip down, there was something primal in him that made him more determined than ever to blow his load; so he removed his mouth from her nipple and laid her down on her back and moved to lift her legs, phishing them to her chest. “You gonna take my cum, baby? Gonna let me put it all in you?” He was thrusting violently, there was no rhythm but just him ruthlessly sliding his cock in and out of her tight canal, his mind was filled with images of her staying here with him, building a life together.

“Bucky, I’m so sensitive,” she squealed, and the man just smirked and to her surprise she just slammed his hips faster. He looks beautiful like this, she thought, but there was a part of her that thought she might explode if he continued his brutal assault on her body; and she was starting to get sleepy. Bucky slammed his cock all the way in until his balls were against her ass and stayed there, “Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” he moaned as he emptied his balls and shoved all his cream inside her.

He looked down on his precious angel and smiled at the sight of her with her eyes closed, running a finger to her face, just admiring her post-sex glow and the way she was all sweaty. He leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, “You did so well for me, baby.”

Without removing his cock from her, he moved to carry her, with ease he then brought both of them upstairs and into his room. Upon entering, he saw that Alpine was still lazily sleeping on the bed he got her and smiled, “I got you a mommy already, Al,” he whispered and felt himself harden again at the nickname he’d given the lovely girl in his arms.

Laying the both down, he wrapped both his arms around the sleeping beauty beside him and kissed her lips once more, “Welcome home, doll.”

[nkatr84]

Obi Wan/female reader oneshot Part 2

Waiting

Let’s shift the POV to Obi Wan’s shall we? (P.s. This is like the first fanfic I’ve written in years, first Star Wars one, first time writing Obi Wan, first reader fic and the first fanfic I published on tumblr. Enjoy!)

Obi Wan would never forget the day he met you. One minute he had been ready to take his seat in the booth at the diner of Master Qui Gon’s old friend. The next he was catching you in his arms and the stopping the milkshakes mid air.

Your eyes had caught him off guard. He had never met anyone outside the temple that eyes just glowed with the light side of the Force like yours did. And he certainly had never met a girl outside the temple that made him blush when you looked at him. He had found himself watching you every few minutes.

Master Qui Gon had noticed.

“Pretty isn’t she Padawan?” He had asked Obi Wan as they were leaving the diner.

Obi Wan had blushed again at being caught trying to stare at you until the last possible moment. He had shrugged,

“I suppose she is.”

“Obi Wan I’m not going to send you back to the Agricore for being a teenage boy noticing a pretty girl!” Qui Gon had laughed throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“But such actions lead to attachments don’t they Master?” Obi Wab had asked.

Qui Gon gave him a smirk,

“If you’re lucky my Boy.”

Seeing his confusion, Qui Gon had sighed. Forbidding attachments may work for some Jedi, but Qui Gon believed in the Force. That the Force was about finding balance. To not fear the Dark side nor let it consume you. That trillions of beings loved and had families every day because the Force willed it. It was just Life.

“It’s natural. To desire. To want. To love.” Qui Gon told him.

“But the Jedi are supposed to be above such things.”

“Obi Wan, I know you’re dead set on being the perfect Jedi, but maybe you can pretend I might know what I’m talking about?” Qui Gon quipped.

“Sorry Master.”

Obi Wan began to suspect that Qui Gon kept taking him back to the diner just to force him to gawk at you. Especially when he prompted him to talk to you. But he knew nothing about girls outside of the temple. You didn’t know anything about lightsaber techniques or mediation or the Jedi texts. Your shy smile sure did make his palms sweat though. He kept to small talk less he make a fool of himself.

When Qui Gon started taking him on more missions, he hoped he could focus back on his training rather than the way his heart began to pound when he saw you.

Then he met Satine. She was so different than you. Much more serious . Yet quick to tease him. More vocal. More passionate. She taught him how to flirt. Making him come to the conclusion that you must not be interested in him. That he had imagined your interest.

And after getting separated from Qui Gon and forced out on the run from the various bounty hunters after her, he soon would trust Satine with his life. She started to question if he liked Mandalore, despite its politics. Talk about the future. Their future together. He got used to the idea of sharing his life with someone. It sounded nice.

Yet...it was always Satine’s plans when she spoke of the future. As if she just assumed he would drop everything to be with her. He tried not to let it bother him. But it was a bit frustrating because she didn’t presume he would leave the Order either. She was a bit contrary that way.

And while the rush of adventure and survival fueled their romance, he has a hard time picturing a quiet moment with Satine. To just be Satine and Obi Wan. That’s when he would wonder what you were doing back on Corescant.

So it was inevitable when the running ended and he finally lowered his inhabitions to kiss Satine. Only to sigh your name. Satine had shoved him in a lake.

Also inevitable was going back to the diner as soon as he returned. But he felt too guilty to tell you of his adventures. Guilty because he still liked you. While also having feelings for Satine. A guilt that returned every time he saw Satine again and vice versa.

So he buckled down on his commitment to the Order. To Qui Gon’s chargrin. He soon felt guilty about that after his master’s death. But your faith in him made him feel better. That’s when he allowed himself your friendship.

Over the years he stayed just outside your orbit. Far enough away to not tempt himself. Yet close enough to see that you didn’t have a high opinion of yourself. That you thought yourself plain and dull. You just worked too much that’s all. Which was saying a lot coming from him.

Satine also came back into his life. Multiple times over the years. And his feelings for the Duchess of Mandalore were just as strong as what he felt for you. Even to a point that he confessed he would have left the Order for her, if she had asked. Never letting Satine know he’d do the same for you.

Finding out you had to work extra jobs to survive stirred up his longing to take care of you. The sight of you in that dress stirred up a different kind of longing. A longing that made the damn war more tolerable at any rate.

He was old enough at that point to admit he loved your figure. Somewhere Qui Gon was saying, “I told you so”. Anakin did so in person.

“Nice dress huh Master?” Anakin had asked over the music that night. Infuriating smirk on his mug.

“Shut up Anakin.” He had told him. The clones weren’t much better. Wondering why a cute girl like you was still single. Saying they wouldn’t mind coming home to a girl like you. Sentiments he reluctantly but silently admitted to himself that he shared. Maybe that’s why he had kissed your cheek that night. To test the waters as it were.

Yet when he was tasked to go undercover as Hardeen he took the plunge. For the first time in his life he could pretend to be an ordinary man. Granted Hardeen wasn’t much to look at, but making you blush by openly calling you pretty made all the difference.

When he heard you confess that you returned his feelings, he couldn’t stop himself. He tried to explain. Explain how he was pulled in three different directions. Explain what drew him to you. Yet still kept finding himself back in that diner. Back to you.

Then Anakin and his impeccable timing had all but stopped him from revealing his identity to you. Without a moment to spare Obi Wan took one last risk. He kissed you.

He swore he had become one with the Force that moment. You just felt right. He would hold on to that moment all through his mission. Promising himself to confess everything once he got back. And he did.

He just hadn’t counted on how he had hurt you.

He still had his command and the war to think about. Even indulging in Satine’s company again. But anytime he had leave he would walk in Dex’s, looking for your face. Worried you had quit, Obi Wan asked Dex about you.

“You know Obi Wan. I don’t know much about being a Jedi. But I do know that kid has been waiting for you for twenty years to figure out that’s she’s in love with you. Every since that day you had caught her when she tripped.

But she knows how important the Order is to you. How much good you do. She doesn’t think that she’s important enough to compete with the Force. Let alone a Duchess. Doesn’t even think she’s important enough to live life outside of work. She just survives.

But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want respect. And unless you respect that girl for who she is you can forget about me helping you get back in her good graces.” Dex had lectured.

“I understand.” Obi Wan had sighed making to go.

No sooner had he stood, Dex had stopped him, saying while stroking his chin,

“Now if I were to get sick one day, I’d have to call my best waitress in on her day off to close the diner. One day being...Tuesday?”

Obi Wan had smiled conspiredingly,

“Here’s to your health then my friend.”

But he didn’t make it to Tuesday. Satine had called for his help. Darth Maul had returned. Imprisoning her and taking the throne of Mandalore for himself.

He saw Satine’s face everywhere for months after she died. Even in battle he just went through the motions. He avoided the diner altogether. Woke from nightmares of Satine lying in his arms confessing her love with her dying breath.

Until one night, she had chuckled and smiled, telling him,

“Obi Wan. I’m not the only one who loves you. I know now you’ve been torn between us. Don’t make my mistake my Love. Tell her how you feel. No disguises. No half truths. Just you. Believe me. You’re more than enough.”

“I promise.” He swore, kissing her fingers.

“And do hurry my Love. Something is coming that will hurt you far more than losing me. Or her. Something terrible.” She warned.

Which is when he finally woke up. He called Dex to make the arrangements. And that was how he found himself sitting across from you. Telling you his decision. He would complete his duty for the War effort then leave the Order. But you surprised him yet again. By telling him you loved him. All of him. Which included his connection to the Force.

When you reminded him how fear of losing someone lead to the Dark Side, Obi Wan swore he saw Qui Gon out of the corner of his eye, a look of approval on his face. But he wasn’t there.

“Right as always my Darling.” He had conceded. Then kissing your hand. He wasn’t sure how he was going to make up for over twenty years of making you wait for him. But Obi Wan Kenobi couldn’t wait to try. Despite the nagging feeling from the Force that their love was not done being tested just yet.

(And...there’s probably going to be a part three...fair warning)

[ohpedromypedro]

Pour toi? Toujours.

A/N: This is my first Max Phillips fic and I’m excited to finally get it posted for my fellow Max lovers to read. 😍 In my world, Bloodsucking Bastards ended differently than it did canonically, so most characters are still alive, just vampires. (Except Ted. He’s still dead, but it’s not actually mentioned in the fic. 😏)

word count: 4.4k

pairings/characters: Max Phillips x f!Reader, bout 70% of the characters from the movie (only half have dialogue lol)

warnings: Is a lot an acceptable answer? lmao. uhm in no particular order to how it’s written in the fic; language, smut, mild nudity, public sex, very vocal Max and reader during the sex, possessive/overprotective Max, sleazy jock dude trying to get laid, sexist/homophobic comments from said sleazy guy, character death (guess who?), use of vampire powers, complete mind control, alcohol use, etc.

summary: none, cause I suck at them lmao let’s just say this fic idea came about from one of @a-seeker-of-imagination​‘s and my many thirst conversations about Max. 😘

When Tim suggested a small office staff gathering at some random bar, your immediate response was going to be “hell no” because you did not want to be around your coworkers when they’re intoxicated, seeing as you suffer being around them all day at the office enough as it is, but Max being Max jumped the gun and said “hell yeah let’s do it!” for the both of you. You want to be annoyed, but you love your vampire boyfriend enough not to be annoyed with him for longer than a few lingering moments. If he wants to have fun watching humans get wasted on a Friday night, why not let him have it? If anything you’ll stick right by his side the entire time, not wanting to entertain your coworkers with your presence, maybe only Amanda, Evan, Tim, and Frank. The others, not so much.

“Are you ready, babe?” Max hums when he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind while admiring the view of you in the reflection of the mirror. The dress you chose hugs you in all the right places, accents every one of your best features and the best of all, it’s red just for Max’s viewing pleasure.

You smile when you feel his arms wrap around you, lifting your head a bit to press a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw. “Just gotta throw on some shoes and I’m good to go, handsome.”

“You look sexy,” he sighs, running his hands along your sides while breathing in the scent of your recently shampooed hair.

“Yeah? I was hoping you’d think so,” you tease, turning around in his hold and leaning up to press a deep kiss to his lips. “This is all for you, Phillips. Remember that.”

“How could I forget?” He groans, dropping his hands to give each of your ass cheeks a firm squeeze. “I get to share the same bed as this.”

“Mmm.” You hum, small little smirk on your face from the way he grabs your ass. “If you keep that up, we won’t make it to the bar and you’re the one who wants to go.”

“Can’t help it when you’re donning my favorite dress.” He smirks right back, moving his hands back up to your waist and giving a gentle knead with his thumbs.

“Topped with this necklace and I look like a snack.”

“Oh absolutely, Sweetheart. I could just eat you right up,” he murmurs, leaning close to press his lips to the most sensitive part of your neck, his fangs just barely poking into your skin moments later.

“Max,” you gasp, your still human heart thudding against your chest. You know he’d never do anything to hurt you intentionally, yeah he’s a vampire and one little accidental slip could end in him injecting you with his venom, which you’re not quite ready for just yet since you want to wait for the perfect moment, but your heart is racing for other reasons.

“Mmm I can hear how fast I make your heart beat when I do that, baby… Am I making you nervous?” He teases, pressing his nose against the pulse point of your throat.

“I trust you,” you whisper, willing yourself not to focus on the arousal you feel from the dangerous prick of his fangs to your neck.

“And that’s why I love you.” He pulls back, gazing down at you with a gentle touch to your cheek. “And why I will wait as long as I need to for you to be ready for the night I change you.”

“Oh, Max… I love you so much.” You breathe, leaning up to press another kiss to his lips, both of his hands now cupping your face. “How’d I get so lucky?” You whisper when he presses his forehead to yours, smile wide on his face.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” He chuckles, gently brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones.

“You? I’m the one with an immortal boyfriend,” you giggle softly, giving your head a small shake.

“And I’m the immortal vampire who found a beautiful young woman worth spending his life with and one who’s so willing to be turned when the time is right.”

“I guess we’re both lucky then, huh?” You bite your lip with a smile, gently running your hands over his tailored chest. “You know what else we are, Mr Phillips?”

“What’s that?” He smiles, lightly brushing his nose against your own.

“Late.”

“Oh shit you’re right,” he chuckles, giving his head a shake as he looks at his watch. “We’re too easily distracted by each other sometimes.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you smirk, pressing a quick, teasing peck to the corner of his mouth before going to the closet to quickly slip on your shoes. “Alright, now I’m ready.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“About time you two got here,” Tim rolls his eyes, assuming that the two of you were busy getting a quick lay in before coming, which oh how wrong he is.

“Didn’t know we had to be here in a specific time frame,” Max tuts in an annoyed manner as he and you approach the side of the bar Tim, Evan, Amanda, Frank, Andrew, Zabeth and a few other new office coworkers are occupying, sort of claiming the area as yours for the time being.

“Don’t listen to Tim. He’s just mad that we decided eight against one to wait until you two got here to order our drinks.” Amanda smiles sweetly at the two of you, moreso genuine to you than to Max, she still doesn’t trust him and she probably never will until you convince her otherwise.

“Well, thank you to everyone besides Tim,” you smile, giving Tim a light teasing tap on the back. “Now, I’m gonna go order myself a drink. Coming, handsome?” You muse to Max, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him with you toward the bar.

“Eager, are we?” He chuckles, settling his hands on your waist from behind after you stop at the bar and wait for the bartender to come over.

“Just dying for a Bloody Mary,” you hum, resting the top of your head against his chest so you can look up at him. Of course he’s smirking.

“What an interesting beverage choice. I wonder what made you choose it.”

“Maybe I like vodka and tomato juice,” you shrug, knowing he’s more referring to the name, but you just love to tease him.

“Mmhm and when’s the last time you drank a Bloody Mary?”

“Uhh…”

“Exactly,” he smirks, playfully nipping at your nose.

“Whatever,” you laugh, giving the bartender a smile when she comes over. “I’ll have a Bloody Mary please.”

“And I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks with a water on the side, thank you.” Max smiles, rubbing his hands over your hips.

“You got it,” she smiles and nods, walking away to go make your drinks.

“So,” you hum, spinning around so you can rub your hands up Max’s chest and fix his tie a bit. “I’ve gotta use the ladies room real quick, could you bring my drink to the table if the bartender’s done before I finish?”

“Of course, beautiful. You know I will either way.”

“I love you, handsome.” You smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips before excusing yourself to the ladies room to relieve your bladder.

Amanda’s at the sink washing her hands when you walk in and you give her a small smile before going into one of the small stalls to pee. After wiping and fixing yourself up, you flush the toilet with your foot and go to wash your own hands. She’s still standing there at the mirror when you come out of the stall, applying a small amount of lip gloss to her lips.

“Hey. How’re things with Evan?” You smile, turning the faucet off after rinsing your hands and grabbing some paper towels to dry.

“Good,” she says with enthusiasm. “We worked things out after the success of the Phallicyte presentation and everything just started falling right back into place, where it should be, you know?”

“Yeah,” you smile, giving your head an understanding nod. “I’m glad you both worked things out together and I’m also happy to be able to help keep Max off your back since I know how he was before Tim suggested he hire a personal assistant to “keep him busy”.” You shake your head and laugh softly, looking at her with sincerity. “You don’t have to worry about him anymore, you know. I’m not just his personal assistant anymore, I’ve...fallen so hard for him and he’s willing to wait until I’m ready to turn me into an immortal vampire. That’s not the point, though, my point is that I love him and I’m willing to keep him in line for the sake of the people who work for and with him.”

“I appreciate that. Really. It might be hard to trust him, but I’m willing to try knowing he’s got you to tame him.”

“He needs that human touch and interaction for as long as he can before I’m ready to give it all up to spend eternity with him.” You muse, shrugging your shoulders as you take a quick glimpse in the dimly lit mirror to make sure your own makeup is tip top. “Plus, girl’s gotta stick by each other’s sides in every situation.”

“You got that right,” she laughs, the two of you moving to exit the bathroom.

The bar is a little busier now, more people than there were five minutes ago. Your gaze searches the area for Max and you spot him at the table setting your drinks down. You smile and are about to start heading that way when an obnoxiously tall figure steps in front of you blocking your view and your way to the table.

“Well hello gorgeous.”

You look up and meet the gaze of some clearly 21 year old college jock, your eyes rolling back as you take a step away from him. You don’t have time for dumb college guys’ drunken stupors.

“Way out of your league, bud. Nice try though.” You smile tightly, moving to walk around him but he only steps to the side to prevent you from walking away.

“Come on, pretty girl. You can’t come to a bar dressed like that and not expect someone to pick you up.” He smirks, looking you up and down as though you’re nothing but a piece of meat.

“That’s extremely sexist and disgusting,” Amanda chimes in, moving to stand by your side. “Not everyone dresses like this to be picked up by sleazy boys like you. Leave her alone.”

“No one was talking to you, dyke.” He glares at Amanda and you can only gasp with disgust at this asshole’s words.

“Dude, your parents raised you the absolute wrong way. You’ll never find a woman to marry with an attitude and sick personality like that.” You snap, shoving him away from you. “Can’t you see I’m clearly not interested? Plus, my boyfriend is right over there and he’s well on the extreme side of dangerous, so watch what you do and say or it’ll cost you.”

“Oh come on, you think that’s going to work on me? Trying to scare me with your “dangerous” boyfriend? Pathetic. Come on,” he says, stepping toward you again and this time grabbing your waist and pulling you against him, his hand travelling down toward your ass. “I can show you a better time than this imaginary dangerous boyfriend of yours.” His hand squeezes your ass as he smirks down at you.

Max looks over at just the right moment to see the guy grab and violate you and instantly his eyes are filled with murder. Who dares put their hands on his woman like that? And judging by the look on your face and the way you shove the guy away and slap him, just shows Max that you aren’t enjoying this guy’s presence very much, so immediately he starts stomping toward the three of you.

You see Max coming the moment he moves away from the table, can see the rage and hatred in his eyes for the guy who not only put his hands on you, but spoke such vile, offensive and sexist things to you and Amanda. You bite your lip and step back, pulling Amanda with you until the both of you are leaning against the wall. The jock guy goes to move toward you, but Max speaks up.

“Hey asshole!” He growls, earning the guy’s attention now. “You put your filthy little human fingers on my girlfriend and think you’re gonna get away with it?” His tone is dangerous, obviously, and the speed his vampire ability has him approaching the guy with barely gives him time to react. Max’s fangs are already showing and before the guy can even attempt to make a run for it, Max is already grabbing him and going right to snapping his neck.

Both you and Amanda watch with wide eyes as the jock’s lifeless body drops to the floor of the bar, mysteriously the only gazes on the four of you being the eyes of your fellow company. No one else has any clue as to what just happened, powers of being a vampire, you suppose. Max’s chest is heaving and quickly you rush to gently lay your hand on his chest, the other raising to touch his cheek.

“Max… It’s okay. I’m okay. Breathe for me, baby.” You murmur, touching your forehead to his own.

“I need fresh air,” he sighs, taking your hand and pulling you outside with him, leading you to a darker part of the building toward the back so he can clear his mind. There’s a few long moments of silence before he speaks again, his words a low growl filled with lust now. “I can smell you.”

“What?” You whisper, your cheeks turning a bright red from his sudden change in tone.

You can’t lie, watching Max snap that guy’s neck without a second thought turned you on more than you care to admit and it’s the overprotective manner in which he did it that has your pheromones so noticeable to him.

“I can smell how wet you are, how turned on me snapping that prick’s pathetic little neck made you.” He presses his nose to your throat, his body caging you against the building.

“Max,” you moan, your fingers carding through his hair while you give your head a tilt to the side. “Fuck, it was just so hot...watching you kill a man for me, over me.”

“You are mine,” he growls.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Like I said earlier, this is all for you, Max Phillips.”

“No one will ever dare put their hands on you again.” His hands squeeze your hips before moving up toward your breasts where he gently massages them through the fabric of your dress, earning himself soft moans from you in response.

“Please take me right here, Max… Please, I need you.” Your voice is soft, but the begging is powerful in your tone and hearing it is pleasant to his ears.

“I know,” he smirks, capturing your lips for a hard kiss while sliding the hem of your dress up, revealing your lack of panties beneath when his hand moves to rub over your drenched folds. “Fuck, you didn’t tell me you weren’t wearing panties.”

“You didn’t ask,” you moan into his mouth, your own hands dropping to start freeing his cock from its confinements. “I figured we’d end up like this at some point.”

“Oh?” He chuckles, hooking one of your legs around his waist and easily sliding two of his fingers into your drenched core, giving them several curls against your spongy walls.

“Y-- fuck,” you moan, your walls clenching around his digits when they curl inside you. “Yes.”

“Such a good girl you are, huh baby?” He rasps, groaning when your hand reaches into his now unbuttoned pants and gives his cock a firm squeeze.

“Only for you,” you murmur while you pull his entire length free, giving him a few hard pumps as you move to kiss him even harder.

“Fuck,” he groans into the kiss, his fingers promptly pulling out of your heat and replacing them with the head of his cock, pushing his hips forward so your walls engulf each thick inch of him.

“Oh Max,” you moan, jumping up so you can wrap your other leg around his middle and allow him access to your ass to hold you up against the wall while he fucks into you.

“That’s right, baby...only my name leaves that pretty mouth of yours, no other man could ever compare to how good I make you feel.” His movements still once he’s buried completely inside of you, your walls clenching around him like a vice while they adjust to the way he stretches you. God, his cock still takes getting used to.

“Move,” you finally whine out after he stays sheathed inside of you a few moments too long, rocking yourself against him for some sort of friction. “Please fuck me, so anyone that’s in hearing distance knows who I belong to.”

“Good fucking girl,” Max groans, kissing you hard once more while starting to thrust in and out of you at a rapid pace, your arms thrown around his neck to keep yourself grounded as he fucks and publicly claims you against the back wall outside the bar. “Want to hear you scream my name into the night sky, baby...” he murmurs as he presses his lips to your ear, forcing his length deeper and harder into you.

“Max! Oh yes, like that!” You cry out, head now thrown back against the wall behind you. Max takes the chance to start kissing along your throat, teasingly nipping at the sensitive skin with his fangs, knowing how much you get off on it despite the risks. “Oh fuck yes, don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t going to,” he growls, giving your ass a light slap while continuing to hold you up against the wall, the force of his thrusts visible in the way your breasts bounce beneath the fabric of your dress. “You feel so fucking good, Sweetheart… There’s no way I’m stopping yet.”

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” you moan louder the deeper and harder he sends his cock, your hands moving to tangle your fingers through his hair and give a few hard pulls. “Mmmmm you feel so f-fucking good inside of me, Max...stretch me in all the best ways.”

“That’s right,” he groans, burying his face against the pulse point of your throat and sucking a nice dark bruise there, marking you for others to see in a temporary way until he can finally mark you with his fangs. “Only I fit this perfectly inside of you, I’m the exact puzzle piece your sweet little pussy needs.”

“Oh yes,” you softly groan from the way he marks your throat, eyes slowly rolling toward the back of your head as your impending orgasm starts to creep up on you. “Mmmm Max! I-I’m...fuck, gonna cum soon...”

“Yeah? Gonna drench each inch of my cock, baby? Show the world just how good I fuck my girl?” One of his hands moves to start rubbing fast circles on your clit, his other hand still gripped hard on your ass.

“Yes!” You cry out with a hard clench around his length from the added stimulation to your bundle of nerves, only spurring his rubs to be even harder from how damn good you feel wrapped around him. His rubs to your clit, along with his continued harsh and deep thrusts into you, pushes you right toward your orgasm and soon you’re screaming out his name with another tight squeeze around him. “Oh Max!”

“Fuck. That’s it, baby...cum for me, all for me. My good girl,” he praises in your ear, licking and sucking at your earlobe while he fucks you through your orgasm.

“Please fill my sweet little pussy with your cum, Max! Want your seed coating my thighs by the time we get back inside…”

“Fuck,” he growls, moving to kiss you hard while starting to thrust so relentlessly that he has to swallow all your screams as he fills you with his cum. “Take every last drop and let it be a reminder that no one will ever have the pleasure of filling you the way I do.”

“I don’t want anyone else. Want you, only you... Only need you Max Phillips,” you groan in between kisses, your body slowly overcoming the aftereffects of the waves of pleasure your orgasm washed onto you. “I love you so much.” You breathe, resting your forehead against Max’s as he gradually slows his thrusts after filling you with a thick load of his cum.

“Je t’aime plus que tu ne le sauras jamais.” He says it so fluidly, as though French is the only language he speaks in this moment, and it makes you smile so wide that he knows you love it when he does. translation (per google translate lmao): I love you more than you’ll ever know.

“Say something else in French, something romantic.” You murmur, sighing softly when he slowly pulls his length from inside you and sets you back onto your feet.

“Je veux que tu deviennes ma femme avant de te transformer...je veux savourer ton humanité aussi longtemps que je peux.” He kisses you again, his hands fixing the hem of your dress so it looks undisturbed.

“Touché, mister romantic over here.” You smile against his lips, helping tuck his cock back in his pants and zipping him back up. The things lovers do for another after a nice quickie.

“I said,” he chuckles, holding you by the waist and gazing down at you with a large smile. “I want you to become my wife before I turn you. I want to savor your humanity for as long as I can.”

“Really?” You whisper. “Oh Max, I… You’re actually asking me to be your wife?” You bite your lip, gazing up at him with wide eyes.

“Would you marry me first?”

“Yes,” you breathe, nodding your head fervently. “Absolutely one million times yes.”

“Then yes, I am asking you to be my wife.” He whispers, kissing you one more time before pulling back and taking both your hands in his own. “I...already had a ring made for you and everything. It’s back home in my drawer.”

“You had a ring made for me?” You murmur in awe, looking up at your now fiancé with admiration.

“It not only symbolizes our eternal bond to one another, but also has the power to protect you from sunlight. My ring will do the same.”

“Oh Max Phillips, you are such a romantic.” You giggle, giving him one more quick but passionate kiss before pulling back and leading him back toward the front entrance of the bar.

“Pour toi? Toujours.”

Your smile is wide when you and Max walk back over to the table where your fellow associates are waiting for you, their eyes sort of wide with questions. You only shake your head and move to slide in the large booth next to Amanda.

“Everything’s okay.” You reassure, a smile still on your face. “Actually, it’s perfect.” You look over at Max when he slides in beside you, his arm slipping right around your waist. “Max and I are perfect.”

“Sooo we’re not gonna talk about the dead guy over there?” Tim questions nonchalantly, his thumb pointing in that direction. Evan slaps his hand down.

“What’s there to talk about?” Max inquires, grabbing his water and taking a quick sip. “Guy put his hands on my girl without consent, he deserved it.”

“Amen,” you and Amanda say it at the same time, both of you giving each other a smile.

“He also said some questionably offensive and sexist things, so yeah, he deserved it.” Amanda shrugs, sipping on her fruity cocktail.

 “Are we also not going to talk about how absolutely no one in this bar saw a thing?” Andrew’s eyebrows are raised and Max only laughs.

“Mind control, duh. You’re a vampire now, you should know that.”

“Right,” he nods, realizing now that Max had everybody under his control. “How’d you manage to get the whole bar to pay no mind to any of that?”

“Lots of practice and loads of charm,” Max smirks, rubbing his thumb along your upper arm.

“Did you use it on Y/N to make her fall in love with you?”

“Tim!” Evan scolds, giving his best friend a “what the fuck?” look.

“No,” you and Max say in unison, earning each other’s gaze and a smile.

“I would never use it on her like that, never against her will,” Max shakes his head as he looks back at Tim.

“And I pretty much fell for him before he even took his first glance at me the day I started working as his personal assistant,” you admit with a blush, nestling yourself closer against Max’s side. “There was just a certain aura about him that I felt when I first saw him through his office windows...and I knew then that this job would change everything for me. I was right.”

“She changed my world and it’s why I’m making her my wife.” Max says it so proudly that you can’t help but smile up at and kiss him.

“Is that why you two were taking so long outside? Being all lovey dovey and getting engaged?” Tim asks, giving his eyes a small role.

“You could say that, yeah.” You smile, taking Max’s freehand and pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Contrary to popular belief, Max is quite the romantic.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Evan mumbles and Amanda gently elbows him in the side.

“Say what you want, Evan, but it won’t change the way I love the woman I’m going to spend eternity with.” Max retorts, pressing a gentle kiss to your hair.

“Je t’aime,” you smile up at him.

“Je t’aime pour toujours, chérie,” he muses, lightly rubbing his nose against the tip of yours.

“Oh gag.”

“Shut up Tim!”

You laugh at all the simultaneous outbursts at Tim, shaking your head with an amused smile as you gaze up at Max and gently rest your hand against his cheek.

“Let’s go home and celebrate, my love. Just you and me.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, baby.”

Everything taglist: @halefirewarrior​ @takemepedropascal​ @wildcard566​ @readsalot73​ @talesfromtheguild​ @msmona​ @oberynispunk​ @whiskeyxinxaxteacup​ @pedrosdoll​ @ah-callie​

Max Phillips taglist: @a-seeker-of-imagination​ (if you’d like to be added, let me know! 💕

[missorgana]

and they were roommates

pairing: alex/willie, background julie/luke

fandom: julie and the phantoms

rating: general

word count: 2383

warning: swearing

summary: Luke and Reggie make a bet about who can set up their dumbass, pining friends, Alex and Willie, first. What could possibly go wrong? (everyone lives au, matchmaking friends)

(my 12 days of fanfiction event is back with another willex fic for the gays! thank you to my babe @georgiawarrs for the prompt, really hope you enjoy this 💖 uwuuu. and don’t forget, you can still send me prompts if you haven’t already!)

read on ao3

“So it’s a deal, then.”

“Bring it on, dude. I’m so gonna win.”

“Not in a million years, Reg!”

…

In short, Luke and Reggie’s bet is about who can set up their shy, stubborn best friend Alex with his roommate, who he’s been crushing on for God knows how long, first.

Not as simple as it sounds.

Before you ask, no, this is not something they usually do. Or they’ve ever done before.

But honestly, Luke’s had quite enough of the blonde dancing around Willie, previously mentioned roommate, when he’s voiced his feelings for the other boy to his friends multiple times.

Their friend’s only argument when they bring it up is, “No way he’d ever date me. I’m way out of his league.”

And best friends just can’t let each other talk like that about themselves, can they?

Also, having met Willie a handful of times, it’s clear to Luke, Reggie and their moms, probably, that he’s head over heels about Alex.

Even the time Luke met him alone in the cafeteria, all he talked about was Alex. It’s honestly adorable. 

And annoyingly stupid.

So, the mission’s clear: get the two dumbasses on a date, ASAP. And since Reggie insisted he could do it more effectively than Luke, they decided a bet didn’t hurt, not when they were helping their friend out.

What could possibly go wrong?

…

Reggie’s first move happened to be during the boys’ usual lunch plans, and obviously, Luke ain’t gonna miss it.

Sometimes Julie and Flynn join them, but she texted him they were late for band practice, sadly so. He totally didn’t mope about it. But Reg’s right he’ll see her after class, anyway.

Just, that’s a long time, you know? Flynn’s told them they’re too codependent on each other, but he just thinks she’s joking, truth be told.

Anyway, the boys are currently seated on the grass, giving them a perfect view of the football practice, not that they were into that sort of thing. They had to discuss the next Sunset Curve gig, which is fucking huge, and Luke can’t wait.

Julie’s written another perfect song. All her songs are perfect. Just trust him, okay?

But just as Alex’s phone pings with a text, “Hold on, it’s Willie.”, he casually throws the statement out, and Reggie looks at Luke with a spark in his eyes.

Perfect opportunity, he gotta give him that.

“Y’know, Alex,” he starts, trying painfully hard to not be suspicious, “Why aren’t you having lunch with Willie?”

The blonde discards the phone in his hoodie and blinks at his friends.

“We always have lunch together.” he answers, varily, oh God, Alex almost looks disappointed.

Thankfully, Reggie picks it up just as quick as himself, shaking his head, “I know! I know, just… uh, I mean, you’re roommates. Would be weird if you never spent time with him.”

Then he nods. Winks in Luke’s direction. That boy is the least smooth person he’s ever met.

And Alex frowns, “We did homework together last night.”

Oh, yes, the study dates. Emphasis on study, not dates.

The blonde always seems perpetually nervous when he’s brought them up in the past, which was another reason why Luke was sick of him not making a move. Although, he hasn’t talked about them for a while, surprisingly.

He steps in, Reggie should be thankful, “I just think, Reg too, you could invite him to lunch tomorrow.”

“Really?” Alex asks, looking a mixture of shocked and excited. 

“Yeah, man. Julie eats with us all the time, why not?”

Reggie’s quick to add, “And Flynn!” and Luke nods eagerly in agreement.

And although their friend seems convinced, shyly smiling, picking up the phone again, he still continues the questioning, “Well, they’re in the band.”

Ugh, he’s impossible.

“But they’re also our friends, and-”

“Hey, and my girlfriend!”

“Yes, yes, dude, we know.” Reggie draws out the last syllable and pats his shoulder, “And Luke’s girlfriend. But your friends are our friends, Alex.”

Subtle argument, he likes it. Well, it’s a start.

And the blonde finally shrugs, so he thinks they’ve won him over, “Alright. Thanks guys.”

Good thing he’s texting again, not catching the two boys’ smug eye contact.

Luke knows this is Reggie’s victory, but hey, same end goal, right?

…

Two days later, Luke’s prepared to start his own plan.

In case you’re wondering, Willie was supposed to have lunch with the gang on Tuesday, however, Alex let them know he had to help out his dad and cover a waiter’s shift at the café. The blonde’s disappointment about the situation was obvious.

So it’s Thursday, and when Luke spots Willie on the way to campus, on his skateboard, alone, most importantly, he decided to act quickly.

“Willie!”, it’s hard to yell when he’s running, because, damn, he really should do something to better his shape, at least so he’s not dying after a few minutes of jogging. Luckily, the other boy hears him and slows down.

He chuckles and pats his back, not funny, “Hey, man. You okay there?”

Luke’s totally fine, of course. Just hopes he’s not totally red in the face, is all. If that’s the case, Willie’s got heart enough to not mention it.

“Definitely. Ya mind if I walk with you?”

The shorter boy looks surprised. Fair enough, he supposes, Luke always picks up Julie on the way here normally, but she’s got early classes today, so. A bit rude of the school planning, or whatever, honestly.

Maybe he misses her, which doesn’t make him cheesy, okay? It’s only been two days, but like, even when he has a bad day, when he plays wrong, or his parents argue with him, she smiles at him like it’s all gonna be okay.

Luke can’t think about her without getting sappy, so he’s gotta focus on the mission, for now, and Willie’s nodded in response, casually rolling down the sidewalk so he’ll catch up.

“So, I’ve been thinking,” he tries as casually as possible, keep it cool Luke, don’t give away your true motive, “You like Alex, right?”

The other boy jumps down from the rail he used as a ramp, landing with the same surprised face as before. He also does this thing where kicks the skateboard up and catches it under his arm.

It possibly confuses the hell out of Luke, to be honest, then again, one might feel the same about him playing the guitar, or, you know, any skill you don’t have. Too much thinking.

“Of course I do.” the skater tells him simply, and confidently so.

In his mind, he can easily picture himself winning this. Huge applause, cake, the lot.

“Good! I know, but you know, you should totally invite him to one of your skating…” he pauses, because Luke’s honestly sure where he’s going with the sentence, regardless, when nothing else works, freestyle, “Gigs?”

Willie looks at him with a weird expression, then laughs heartily, turning his eyes to the ground. He hopes that’s a good sign.

“Competitions?” the shorter boy helps, to which Luke nods, but the other keeps going, “He’s come by in the park sometimes, but you might have a point with that. You think he’ll like it?”

“Uh, duh.” he says with a click of his tongue, “Not that he’ll admit it, but trust me.”

And although it sounds settled and set in stone, the skater gives him another weird look. Luke brushes it off, because really, getting dating advice from your crushes’ friend is a bit ridiculous. What’s he supposed to do when they’re so stupidly stubborn, though?

“Alright, I’ll give it a shot.”

…

Guess what? Luke’s earned himself a point ahead of Reggie, due to the brilliant idea he voiced to Willie last week. Yes, brilliant, obviously!

“We’re in a tie, you know that right?” Reg tells him, which isn’t true at all, because his lunch proposal only half worked, and that’s exactly what he tells his friend.

The boy rolls his eyes. “Not fair”, his ass!

Anyway, Alex was excited going to his crush’s skating show on Friday, and they both consider that a win regardless. The blonde’s raving about it over band practice, well, less the show, more how pretty Willie looked when he tied his hair up in a bun.

Needless to say, they both find their friend adorable, almost can’t contain some self-satisfied smiles. So far, so good.

Their nosy attempts at figuring out if Alex then got himself together and made a move crashed devastatingly, however.

“Couldn’t talk long after, curfew.” he told them, and damn, he looked like a puppy kicked to the curb. 

So goddamn annoying, but alright, this time around it was out of their power.

Luckily, it’s Sunset Curve’s next gig in two days, and Reggie’s got the perfect countermove, Luke’s gonna give it to him. This move being inviting Willie to previously mentioned concert, and since it’s the first round of Battle of the Bands, tension’s high.

Their best friend pales when they announce the exciting news.

“This is a good thing, dude! He’ll love seeing you play!”

“And us- Ow!”

“You deserve it.” Luke simply tells Reggie, crossing his arms.

“Guys!” the blonde interrupts, fiddling with the drumsticks and looking like he just saw a ghost, “I can’t just play knowing Willie’s there! What if I fuck up?”

And so Luke has to shake his head at his dear, overthinking boy. Not that Luke’s haven’t had that consideration before, hell, his mom and dad hearing their tape terrified the shit out of him, but that fear’s getting in the way of the matchmaking.

Besides, those two are meant to be. Seriously, he knows they’re barely halfway in their young lives, all of them, but they’re perfect!

Smiling at each other all the time like idiots. Luke’s got a feeling he does that with Julie, too.

“You won’t,” Reggie interrupts his own train of thought, “You never do, Alex.”

“Besides, he looked thrilled, man! We’ll leave you alone after the show.”

“Promise!” Reg chimes in, and they wink in semi-unison, just to get the point across. It’s almost worrying when Alex sighs, but he shrugs nonetheless.

“If you say so.”

…

So although the gig went fantastic, and Alex and Willie were annoyingly cute but even more so awkward as hell around each other after, Luke’s maybe going a bit crazy.

Okay, alright, it’s only the third week, but neither of the boys seem to be giving clues that they’re finally realising how stupid they are.

Maybe Luke doesn’t know, explicitly, if Willie crushes on Alex too, but it’s obvious! 99.9 percent!

It’s ridiculous how much their best friend’s pining leads up to nothing, and both of them start to understand some of those slow burn fanfictions out there. Which Reggie made him read, by the way. If anyone asks Reg, he’ll blame it on Julie, probably.

Thankfully, an opportunity presents itself on a silver platter, when Carrie Wilson throws her over the top birthday party.

To be honest, Luke’s not sure how to feel about her, given the past long feud, even though Julie’s assured him she’s changed. He’d trust her with anything, so it’s fine. And seriously, he swears he overheard Flynn asking Carrie on a date, but their friend denied it straight up to his face.

Regardless, since guests (meaning, the entire school) are usually allowed a plus one, Reggie and himself figured it was their job to arrange Alex bringing Willie along.

One weird detail to it all, before they could even bring it up, Alex chimed in, during what feels like their 500th Star Wars marathon night, “You guys… you- uh, you think I should invite Willie to Carrie’s party?”

Did the universe just thank them for their service, or something?

Of course, both boys eagerly nodded, practically jumping in their bean bags, while simultaneously making a little of a deal of it as possible.

Literally proof that soulmates exist, Luke thinks. Yes, that is melodramatic, but he doesn’t give a shit, frankly.

Only problem?

They’re at the very party, the center of the mission now, and Alex and Willie are acting just as shy as usual. The blonde’s even fiddling anxiously, like he always does around his crush, and given that they haven’t lost sight of either of them yet, Reggie voices another sigh to him.

Maybe this is a sign from the universe to not intervene, then, he supposes.

They’re at the ping pong table, the two boys, who apparently are determined to remain clueless for eternity, left for the kitchen to get more snacks.

Seems like Julie’s noticed his own beated demeanor, cause she appears at his side, leaning her head on his shoulder. He can’t not smile, just a little bit.

“What’s got you two losers down?” Flynn asks, suddenly in front of them, and Reg will probably mopily deny he jumped.

“Ugh,” is all Luke says.

“Alex and Willie are impossible.” Reggie adds, nodding in agreement, and instead of the expected understanding, Julie frowns up at him.

“What do you mean?”

Maybe Luke’s sort of embarrassed admitting the plan to her, sensing she’ll find it silly, but really, he can’t hide anything from her, and they’ve given up by now, anyway, “We’ve been trying to get them to admit their feelings for each other.”

Flynn’s frowning now, too.

“We actually had a bet-”

“Yeah, but! Like we love Alex, and he’s so lost on him. But we’ve tried everything.”

“They’re too annoying.” adds Reggie for good measure.

And all of a sudden, Julie’s giggling. Her best friend too, and judging by the look Reg’s giving him, he’s just as confused as himself. She’s so cute when she’s laughing, though, despite this boggling his mind.

“How do you guys not know this?!” Flynn’s saying, and when they’re only scratching their heads, because how do they expect them to understand that, Julie smiles her sunshine smile and pokes Luke’s chin, “They’re roommates, you know.”

That doesn’t make any sense. Whatsoever.

Not until Alex and Willie return with a bucket of popcorn, the skater hanging on to their friend’s hoodie sleeve. Of course, he makes his leave for the bathroom, kissing the blonde’s nose on the way.

Reggie looks at Luke. Oh my god, they’re roommates.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

Once many moons ago you asked for some avatar writing prompts and I’ve been thinking of it ever since. Anyway I’ve also been thinking a lot about your Tourette’s!Sokka hc and fics and I was wondering if you could write a lil bit about how Toph finds out? I know you mentioned that she’d find out after pulling him out of the hole... but I’d love to read more about it

Anyway no pressure and if i’m totally out of line please let me know

Hi!!! No no, thank you so much! You’re not out of line at all!! I could talk about this forever and this is exactly something I need to procrastinate!

for those who don’t know, they’re referring to this post and this oneshot! It’s a lots of headcanons about Sokka (atla) having Tourette’s Syndrome!

This takes place during Bitter Work (I mean... Sokka is a hole haha) and for purposes of speculation and plot convenience, we’re assuming he’s been in the whole for at least half of the day (I mean, maybe that’s canon??? He had trouble walking when they got him out and it was long enough to make Katara worry...).

I tried writing this in a different way, so if anyone has strong thoughts / feelings / opinions on how I portrayed his tics, let me know! The last thing that I want to note beforehand is that tics are... weird and you can’t plan them. Writing for them is harder than I thought because they are random. I, personally, found it easier to write his verbal tics as the same few words because you don’t think of tics, they just happen? So writing them was weird, haha!

Stuck

Word Count: 2,590

Tw: anxiety attack, tic attack (for those with TS or tics, I do write his tics in. They triggered some of mine, so proceed with caution)

----

“Rah-Rah-Rah-Rumble!”

Sokka sighed. “Maybe going to underground Earth bending tournaments was a bad idea,” the young warrior (nose wrinkle) said to himself. “I’m going to be rumbling-- rah-rah-rumble-- for ages now.”

He laughed. Then laughed again (blink, whistle). Then he shrieked in frustration.

Being stuck in this hole was miserable, and not just (whistle, nose wrinkle) miserable, it was terrifying. He couldn’t move his arms, he couldn’t move his legs, moving his fingers was possible, but he had clenched them so much that it was painful to continue, and he needed to move his arms, he needed to (whistle, whistle, whistle) tic.

The others were off training, and that could take hours. He was alone (blink, “yip yip, rumble rumble”) and they had no idea where he was, all they knew was that he was hunting.

The pain… it was hard for his brain to fathom the pain he was in. His legs (blink, whistle, blink) were numb but his arms (“Rah-Rumble”) were sore, they were aching and longing for the ability to move, to tic. It made his head (whistle, blink, blink, “yip, rumble, yip”) hurt. It was hard to breath.

“That’s-- rumble-- it,” he wheezed. “This is how I’m gonna-- rah-rah-- die. Oh, spirits, I’m gonna die!” Panic, pain, and loneliness were savages, wrecking the sanctuary and peace of his mind and body.

“AANG!”

Sokka’s voice clipped, his body feeling (“yip yip, you need to yip yip”, blink, nose wrinkle) awake once more at the sight of his friend.

The monk turned at his name, his face lighting up upon seeing the water tribesman. “Sokka!” he (nose wrinkle, whistle) cried, running to him. “Are you okay?”

He opened his mouth, prepared to make some witty or sarcastic comment, but (whistle, blink) all that came out was a stifled, relieved sob. “I-I’m-- fah-fah-fine, fine-- I just need to get out of this stupid hole,” he assured, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes.

Aang studied him for a moment (“yip yip”), then grabbed onto what he could of Sokka’s hands, trying to pull him (blink, blink, nose wrinkle, whistle) free.

Pain shot through his arms and up to his fingers. “Ow! Stop, stop! You’re-- rumble, rah-rah-- gonna pull my fingers off! And (whistle) I don’t think the r-- re-rah-rumble, rah-rah-rumble-- rest is coming!”

Aang sat down in front of him, panting. “I would try to airbend you out, but I don’t think that’ll do anything.”

(Blink, whistle) “Oh, you can Earthbend me out!” Sokka cried excitedly (blink, blink, “rumble”). “That’s what you’ve been working on, right?”

“I can’t.”

“Well, what about-- yip-- Toph? Can you get her so she can Earthbend me out?”

“I can’t do that either.”

“W-- Wah-Wah-- Why not? I’m stuck and-and I can’t move and--” Sokka broke off into an unstoppable stream of “yip-yip”’s.

Aang started, reaching his hands out, but drew them back. “Suppose you probably don’t want to be touched right now?” he said sheepishly. “I’m sorry. Toph will just get mad at me if I go back. I’m a terrible Earthbender.”

“I just-- yip yip (whistle, blink, blink, nose wrinkle)-- I just want Katara.” The words stumbled out, and for a second, he felt like that young six year old again, asking for his mom when (blink, blink, blink) he had tic spasms during stressful training sessions.

Aang’s grey eyes were filled with sorrow. “I know you need help. I need to get over myself and just face Toph but… I just don’t want to let anyone down…” he trailed off, and (nose wrinkle, whistle) suddenly Sokka wanted to be out of that hole more than anything so he could give Aang all of the love that he deserves.

“Oh! Is that a baby Sabertooth Moose Lion?” asked the monk, a smile popping up on his face as the creature jumped out from the bushes.

“Aang, Foo Foo Cuddly Poops. Foo Foo-- rumble, rah-rah-- Cuddly Poops, Aang,” Sokka introduced nonchalantly, still mentally going through various ways to encourage Aang to get help.

“Huh, that’s weird,” Aang (“yip yip!”) stated, picking Foo Foo Cuddly Poops up. “Their moms are usually really protective.”

The Spirits must have something against Sokka, and maybe once he’s out of the hole he’ll ask Aang to visit the Spirit World and figure out what it is. Almost as if it were on cue, a loud roar shook the trees surrounding them, and Sokka soon felt overcome with blinking and screaming “yip yip”.

The roar came from behind him, but he couldn't move he couldn’t move he couldn’t move he couldn’t-- Spirits, he was crying. He was blinking so hard and so consistently that he was crying. His throat felt tighter and tighter with each “yip”, but he still held onto that small sliver of hope that Toph or Katara would hear him and come help him.

“Aang, I can’t-- ca-a-an’t yip-- I can’t see! I-- you need to yip yip-- can’t see! Is that- is that-thu-thu-- the mother? What’s happ-- yip yip-- ening? I can’t-- you-you, yip yip yip-- I can’t stop-- yip yip yip yip, RUMBLE-- AANG!” His words flew out of his mouth, they were uncontrollable, a storm that had been building up for the past however long he had been in here, festering and brewing. Sokka didn’t know what he was saying, his tongue was improvising, his words were a script never written. Honestly, he would be surprised if Aang could even understand what he said through his nearly constant stream of tics.

He couldn’t see, and not just behind him. His blinking was too excessive. His eyes hurt, his vision completely blurred. He was crying, from fear, pain, blinking too much, and because he just wanted Katara. The ringing in his ears returned, and he wanted to curl up into a ball, letting his tics run their course, holding his head in his hands.

A gust of wind ruffled his already messy hair, some of the longer strands falling into his mouth, but he barely registered it. Through the ringing, he vaguely heard Aang speak to him. And suddenly Sokka sobbed even harder because Aang was twelve and he shouldn’t have to worry about Sokka having a tic attack. The first time he had one around Aang, he had terrified the kid. Poor Katara had to run back and forth between making sure Sokka was alright and not in any pain and that Aang understood what was going on.

Spirits, Aang was probably scared out of his mind right now because they were being attacked and Sokka could do nothing to help him. They were in danger and it felt like he was cowering while the Avatar worked to save them both.

Moment after moment, he continued to tic, and, as Aang later said, continued to have an anxiety attack. It felt like an eternity when he finally saw the blurred face of Aang in front of him, moving in and out of focus. The monk’s mouth was moving, but no words were coming out.

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t even think. The world around him had faded, falling into a grey abyss of nothingness where even feelings were numb and cold. He forced his eyes shut.

Suddenly, the ground beneath him began to move, it rumbled (much like he was), and out of nowhere, a hand gripped his hair tightly and pulled.

Freedom. He was free, but he couldn’t register it. He swatted at the hand until it let go of him, letting him crumble to the ground in a hysterical heap. The touch only worsened the feeling of restriction, even though he was no longer confined to the hole. The ringing grew louder and louder still, and through it all he could hear was someone screaming his sister’s name. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was Aang.

The curled into a ball position that he so longed for was finally attainable, and Sokka immediately fell into it. His legs were twitching, his hands continually flying to the sky and flashing the number three (a new tic he had picked up that replaced the fist pumping. Where his body picked it up, he hadn’t a clue, but he supposed it was better than fist pumping at everything).

“I can’t-- yip yip, yip rumble yip-- breathe-- bruh-bruh-bruh--!” he screamed it. How his vocal cords found the strength to scream, he didn’t know. All he knew for certain was that he felt like he was dying.

A tender, cool, calloused hand landed on his shoulder and he shuddered at the touch, desperately trying to shake it off. The hand would not relent.

Oftentimes, the light at the end of the tunnel was his name. The ringing halted to a stop, when through the blaring he heard: “Sokka”. The voice was loud but it was not forceful. It was commanding yet compassionate. “Sokka, can you hear me?”

Eyes still forced shut to calm the blinking, he nodded.

“It’s Katara. I know I’m already touching you, but can I hug you? Is that okay?”

Katara… his sister. His mind halted at once, the thoughts of death and breathing slipping away. Cautiously opening an eye, Sokka found his sister in front of him, one hand on his shoulder, the other hovering near his back.

A relieved sigh fell from her lips as he opened his second eye, blinked a few times, and then met hers. Her beautiful blue eyes felt like home. “Thank the Spirits,” she mumbled. “Can I hug you, is that okay? Aang chased away the mother Sabertooth Moose Lion and Toph got you out of the hole. You can move now.”

Realization hit him in full force. Toph didn’t even know he had Tourette’s yet. The chance to tell her never really came up. She probably hated him now.

He nodded once more, leaning into his younger sister’s touch, wrapping his own shaking arms around her, and letting her hold him as he whimpered.

Her touch was warm, heating the coolness of his fear into oblivion. He always liked when Katara hugged him. She always hugged him loosely, allowing him the room to maneuver or wiggle his way out if he felt uncomfortable.

Peace flooded over him, his tears vanishing with each passing moment and his breathing more stable with each breath.

“I’m-- rumble- rah-- so sorry,” he gasped once he extracted himself from the hug, finally calm and back into reality, as the world came back into sight.

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Katara stated firmly, sitting beside him. “We should have looked for you sooner when you didn’t return. I was just so caught up in Aang learning Earthbending and Toph is kind of a mean teacher--”

“Katara, it’s-- yip yip-- fine, really.”

“You were stuck here for hours, Sokka, hours! I was so worried…”

Hand holding wasn’t his thing, not in the slightest. It made his fingers hurt and he could never get his hands to hold still long enough for it to be comfortable for anyone. Katara, though, was the one exception. He reached for her hand, holding it tightly and rubbing his fingers against the back of it.

“Thu-Thu-- Thank you,” he whispered. “I love you.”

Katara leaned her head against his shoulder, finally allowing herself to breathe, all of her worries and fears slipping away with every exhale.

From the corner of his eye, Sokka noticed Aang slowly inching towards him, Toph lingering at his side. He gulped. “Aang, sorry I f-- fr-fre-fuh-fr--freaked out on you. Did I-- rumble rumble-- scare you again?” he asked.

Aang nodded sheepishly. “A little bit. Sorry I couldn’t Earthbend you out. I should’ve gotten Toph right away.”

Sokka shrugged, careful not to jostle his sister’s head. “Eh. It’s okay. You just started l-- luh-luh-rumbLE, LE, LE-- learning.”

The large grey eyes grew wider by the second. Aang bit his lip and glanced anxiously at Sokka. It was a look that Sokka had learned early on. “Come here,” he sighed, gesturing to his other side. “Not too close, though, okay?”

Aang immediately zoomed over and into his side, scooting away slightly before settling.

Sometimes, Aang just needs to be loved and reminded that he’s just a kid and that it’s okay to feel worried and that it’s okay for him to not believe everything was his fault. That look, that look was one asking for forgiveness, one of asking for affection.

And then there was Toph.

It was funny, really, how quickly Sokka could go between completely freaking out and needing someone to help him to him being the comforter, the calm and collected one. He supposed it was because his tic attacks weren’t very frequent, and this one was more extreme than most (probably due to being stuck for hours and having an anxiety attack), so he was used to jumping back into normalcy.

Toph, on the other hand…

“Hey, you,” he called. “Blind Bandit-- yip yip, you need to yip yip-- come join us!”

The hesitant and frightened look (Spirits, she was only twelve too) on her face was a huge contrast in comparison to her pale and usually uncaring complexion. And for a moment, she faltered. Being new and all, Sokka really couldn’t blame her. She barely knew them.

“I’m f-- fuh-fuh--fine,” he assured her. “I have Tourette’s so sometimes-- rumble-rah-rah-- when I can’t move my body freaks-- yip yip (whistle)-- out and sometimes I panic. Then we got attacked by a Sabertooth Moose Lion, I think? I kinda blanked out for that part-- rah-rah-rah--, but anyways, point is, I’m okay. And, I’m sorry for sc-- yip yip-- scaring you.”

The young Earthbender cautiously took a step forward.

“Don’t worry-- wah-wah-worry--, it’s not usually this bad. I guess me getting trapped in a hole-- rumble, rumble, rah-- wasn’t enough torment for the Spirits so they threw a large animal at me. It’s usually just small, normalish things like making hand gestures or my neck twitching,” he continued to explain, his tone gentle and trying his best to suppress his vocal tics for the moment to coax Toph closer. “Are you okay?”

Toph snorted. “I’m not scared, Snoozles. I just… I just couldn’t see what was going on completely and I was confused!”

“And worried!” Aang piped up from his side. “Don’t forget that you were also worried!”

Sokka smiled while Toph growled. She stomped her foot on the ground and a beam of Earth collided with Aang, sending him flying through the air and roughly hitting a tree.

“Ow,” he mumbled, rubbing his head.

Toph just shrugged, quickly making her way to steal Aang’s spot next to Sokka. The young warrior saw the Earthbender raise her fist towards him, then falter.

“Yes, you can touch-- yip yip-- me now,” he laughed. “Uhh, also, sorry for hitting you earlier.”

A hard blow landed on his arm, but he couldn’t have felt happier about it. The trio learned very early on that punching arms was Toph’s way of showing affection. “No biggie. I can take it.”

Aang came stumbling towards them, pouting. “No fair, Toph! I wanted to sit next to Sokka!”

“Well then, make Sugar Queen move and take her place.”

“But Katara has first dibs, she’s his sister!”

“Snooze you lose, Twinkle Toes.”

“But--”

Katara opened her eyes and then proceeded to roll them. “Just come sit next to me, Aang,” she interrupted, extending an arm for the airbender to lean into.

Aang’s face lit up and he raced to her side.

Sokka sighed. Ah, normalcy.

----

Ahhh okay! I hope you liked it!

In case anyone was wondering, the reason why I stopped writing the tics in during the tic attack is because tic attacks (in my own personal experience) are kind of a constant stream of tics where something is always happening, and it would be really hard to write. So, when he had his anxiety / tic attack, I let it flow from there because there’s no way I could write that well or portray it right!

Thank you for reading! I’m always open to Sokka with Tourette’s questions, comments, concerns, etc...! I enjoy talking about it haha! I would also love to hear anyone’s personal Sokka with TS headcannons or ideas or any TS character stuff!

I am also always up to procrastinate, so if anyone ever has any writing prompts or fic recs, please lemme know!

and as always, Katara is FANTASTIC:)

[allfandomxreader]

He Dies in the End

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader

Words: 1000ish

Warnings: Death

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote about Tom but here we are!! This was my favorite piece I wrote for my creative writing course so I turned it into a little tom fic, now that I’m reading it, it’s kinda shit but oh well. Feedback, as always, is appreciated!!

not my gif

Main Masterlist // Marvel Masterlist

You shift almost soundlessly, trying your hardest not to rub the chair and wake Tom. Your body feels stiff, it yearns for your shared bed. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept soundly. Lately, you’ve been living your lives trapped within four walls of the hospital room. He looks peaceful though. You try to ignore the tubes that plague his arm. Tom made a joke a few weeks ago saying they’re the only thing giving him life. You wish that wasn’t true.

From beyond the door, Dr. Cox almost enters before you hold up a hand to stop her. Tom hasn’t been sleeping well either, it’d be a shame for him to wake up now. You stand on wobbly legs and make your way towards her. He doesn’t even stir as you close the door.

“How’s he feeling?” She asks, tucking the clipboard under her arm.

“Sick,” You sigh. She only purses her lips. You attempt to comb through the tangles and knots in your hair out of awkwardness but eventually give up. You know she’s seen much worse than a young woman with unkept hair and exhausted eyes. “How did his tests go?” She doesn’t need to answer; her frown says enough. “How long do I have left?” You’re almost disgusted by the meekness of your voice and that even in the time of his passing you’re making it about yourself.

“I don’t think he’ll make it through the night.” Her words alone make you dizzy, your legs more unsteady than before. You have to lean against the wall to stop yourself from collapsing. “Is there anyone else I can call for you? You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not alone. Not yet.” She reaches out and squeezes your shoulder before turning back down the hallway, presumably to check in on her other patients. You can only hope she can give them better news.

You don’t need to close the door quietly, but you do anyways. Tom’s already awake and staring at the ceiling, you asked earlier if he wanted to watch something on the small TV, but he refused, you’ve both grown sick of the few channels the hospital provides. You’ve watched at least half a season of soap opera reruns; you’d give anything to go home and watch a football game with him. Two months ago, nobody in the world could’ve paid you enough money to sit through one.

“What’d she have to say this time?” His voice is hoarse and filled with exhaustion. Looking at him now, you notice things you’ve missed while being here. Tom’s skin has become ghostly, his normally vibrant brown eyes have dulled, and his body has lost all muscle definition. You feel sick just glancing at all the scabs that litter his arm.

“What she always does, still looking for progression. The nurse will be back in a few hours to take some more blood for your tests.” You sigh, letting yourself pretend those were her words, that the conversation wasn’t to prepare me for a goodbye. You’re not sure if it’s to protect him or you.

“You’ve never been a good liar,” His lips quirk into a faint smile, “There aren’t going to be any more tests, are there?” All at once, it feels as though all the wind has been knocked from your body and you’ll never be able to breathe right again. You shake your head, eyes dropping to the floor, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

Slowly, Tom reaches for you, scooting to the edge of his bed giving you just enough room to slide in beside him. You’ve never had to worry about hurting him, he’s always towered above you and could’ve easily thrown you over his shoulder without a second thought. But that was then, and now you can only focus on trying not to crush his frail body.

He traces lazy circles on your shoulder as you nuzzle closer to him, he sighs in what sounds like contentment. You toy with the cheap fabric of the hospital gown as the two of you lay in silence. “I’m tired,” Tom whispers.

You wish you could talk about something the way you used to. His stories from set or the secrets he wasn’t legally allowed to share with anyone, but he always made an exception for you. You’d listen to him talk for hours, now, you’re lucky if he’s awake for more than one. Your old routine feels like a lifetime ago when really, it’s only been a few excruciating weeks.

Tom opens his mouth to say something more before he erupts into coughs. You try to rub soothing circles against his chest, to do your best to offer comfort or relieve any pain the best way you can. You can tell he’s in pain despite the drugs pumping through his body and the smile he always adorns. He’s trying his best to make it hurt less for you even when he’s the one dying.

When the fit passes, he settles back into his rightful place holding you a little closer and just a little tighter than before.

You find yourself memorizing anything you can. From the rhythm of his heartbeat to the way he traces three circles on your skin before reversing his thumb’s direction. A week ago, you would’ve told him to keep fighting, to trust the doctors, that everything would be okay. But you know he’s tired, you also know the only reason he’s still holding on is because of you.

“You can sleep now,” You whisper, he doesn’t say anything back, you’re almost certain he didn’t hear your words.

“I won’t wake up.”

“I know,” You nod against his chest, “I know and that’s okay.”

It doesn’t take long for his breathing to slow and become uneven, it almost feels like you’re back at home, like he’s had a long day and happened to fall asleep before you did. He stopped drawing circles but never let go of your hand. You didn’t need the machines to tell you when his heart stopped beating, you could hear it for yourself.

You’re left alone in a world that should’ve been full of so much more. So many moments you’ll never get to experience, adventures that will never be taken, sights that will never be seen, songs that you won’t get to hear him sing. The moment he slipped away, you knew that you did too.

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