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free-for-all-fics · 7 months

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Captain Louis Renault Prompt! Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of this and I’d love to read it! 🚃💚🛤

Captain Louis Renault is walking in the train station behind a stranger. The stranger suddenly stops dead in his tracks and turns around with tears in his eyes. He says, "Tell my wife I love her and our child. Make sure she doesn’t blame herself.” Louis realizes what the man intends to do and has very quick reflexes, but even he can’t close the distance between them in time to save the man and pull him to safety. It’s too late as the man throws himself onto the train tracks, where he’s immediately hit and killed by the oncoming train.

Louis tries to mediate the chaos as the train station descends into a loud cacophony of screams with people rushing about in the confusion without even knowing exactly where they’re going or what they’re doing. The train slowly screeches to a halt and the passengers inside are escorted off as quickly as possible in an orderly fashion by the conductor and service attendants who try to keep everyone calm. Ensuring the safety of those on board is their first priority. Louis knows that, as an officer and witness to the incident, he’ll have to be the one to relay to you the tragic news.

Back at home, you find a tear-stained letter addressed to you from your husband. The top is dated with today’s date. In it, he reveals to you that he was terminally ill and estimated to not live ten more months. Months ago, he came home to tell you, his beloved wife and best friend. But before he could, you told him you were pregnant. Suddenly he lost all his courage and couldn’t bring himself to tell you. He was afraid the stress of the devastating news would only cause you stress that would harm you or put your pregnancy at risk. He didn’t want to put such a heavy burden on your conscience, afraid it’d increase your risk of miscarrying. He admits that it’s the first time in a long time he hasn’t felt hopeless. In fact, he’s full of hope. He hopes you live beyond your years and find absolute happiness. He doesn’t want you to waste your best years in mourning and hopes that you don’t grieve for too long. It’s okay to cry every once in a while, but not all the time. He hopes someday you learn to love again and even remarry. He hopes you don’t hate him for this. He hopes you find it in your heart to forgive him. He hopes you can find some peace in knowing he��s no longer in pain.

Your husband had been acting strange for the past few months and was in so much physical pain lately, but he refused to see a doctor. He called it a waste of time and money, as if he already knew what was wrong and there was nothing to be done. You knew he was sick, but he never let you know just how bad he was. You had no idea he’d commit such an act to end his suffering. You fall into a heap on the floor and cradle your bump as you wrap your arms around yourself, a wet and disheveled mess of grief. The doorbell rings, breaking the heavy silence. You stay curled up on the floor, not wishing to move from this spot. You ignore the piercing sound, already having a horrible sinking feeling that you know who’s at the door. You want to suffocate in the deafening silence. Maybe they’ll just go away and leave you in peace if you don’t answer. Maybe your husband will come home if you wait long enough. But the doorbell rings again after a couple minutes. Whoever’s at the door won’t leave. Your heart fills with dread.

You reluctantly pull yourself up and drag your feet as you trudge to the door to open it, not even bothering to smooth out your clothing or fix your hair. You’re too drained to do anything and couldn’t care less what you look like. You can feel how wet and clammy your face has become from your tears and can only imagine how red and bloodshot your eyes are. You sniffle, wiping your eyes and nose with the back of your hand as you try to clear away your stray tears and snot bubbles. When you finally muster the strength to look up and make eye contact with the two men standing on your doorstep, you notice they’re both dressed in crisp uniforms. The men have removed their hats, holding them beneath their arms and to their sides out of respect. One of the men is wearing an ivory uniform that’s emblazoned with three shiny medals, which indicates to you he’s of higher rank and has higher authority than the man accompanying him.

The man in ivory introduces himself as Captain Louis Renault and introduces you to his aide, Lieutenant Casselle. But it’s their eyes that give them away. Both men look grim and apologetic, and it’s in that moment that your worst fears are realized before anything more is even said. Your husband didn’t change his mind. He went through with it. He took his fate and his life into his own hands and did what he believed needed to be done. While you look the officers up and down, they do the same with you. When they glance down and notice your protruding stomach, you protectively wrap your arms around it. Lieutenant Casselle swallows nervously, but Captain Renault remains stoic as he dutifully relays the tragic news and your husband’s final message. Before you can thank them and close the door, Captain Renault stops you and says that’s not all. There’s more to your husband’s death, so they ask your permission to come in and discuss it. With your current condition in mind, it’d probably be in your best interest to sit down before you hear this.

While making out the report of the incident, Renault did some digging on your husband and looked into his financial records, where some of his final investments and purchases jumped out at him. He reveals that your husband transferred all the money he had into an account for you, but he also secretly had an emergency fund on the side that went towards visas for you so you could get to America. Unbeknownst to you, as your pregnancy progressed, your husband was busy getting his affairs in order, which included ensuring you and your unborn child would have everything you could possibly need to survive. He made plans for you to leave the country because it was too dangerous here in France with the encroaching German Occupation. It was his wish for you and your unborn child to get out of Paris, to get away from the war and to go somewhere safe, somewhere neutral.

He couldn’t raise enough money to afford the visas before his death, but he did arrange a passage on the refugee trail to Casablanca in French Morocco. It’s not much, but it’s something. And something is better than nothing. Renault has procured the train ticket for you and has come to deliver it personally. It won’t be easy leaving Occupied France, but he’ll help you since he’s traveling to Casablanca too. He’s been appointed by Vichy as the Prefect of Police and is to be stationed there. He has no ulterior motive for once. He’s just a romantic who’s always had a soft spot for the less fortunate, especially for beautiful young women in need, like yourself. But you don’t need to know that. He’ll keep that little secret to himself.

Before you depart, you properly bury your dearly departed husband, even if there isn’t much, if anything, of him to bury. He deserves to Rest In Peace, even if you bury an empty casket or symbolically bury a special belonging of his that held sentimental value. You regret that you can’t afford to buy a headstone that bears his name and have to use a makeshift marker. You hope you can return to your beloved France one day and rectify this by giving him a proper headstone after the war is over.

You’re sitting alone on the train, a young widow mourning her loss. To escape the war, you’ve embarked on the long, long, long journey to French Morocco in North Africa. You must endure the torturous, roundabout refugee trail, and this is only the beginning. But this is what your husband wanted. This was his dying wish, his last request. You need to fulfill it and see it through. You remind yourself that you’re doing this not just for your sake, but for your unborn child’s. No matter how bad things get, you need to keep going. You need to be strong enough to endure this. You will be strong enough to endure this. For them. For yourself. For your future.

Anyone could tell you’re traveling from a funeral and clearly grieving just by looking at you. Your black clothes. The way you clutch your handkerchief. The redness around your eyes. The misty film that clouds over your eyes as if you’re trying to hold back tears to spare yourself the humiliation of crying in public. But a man who can’t look beyond his own nose and have some respect starts bothering you and being a creep. He’s trying to flirt and hit on you, a widow in mourning, and he doesn’t care. You’re reaching for your hatpin to stab him when Captain Renault comes to your rescue, asking if there’s a problem here. The man doesn’t want any trouble but, even so, Renault orders him to sit elsewhere and to stop bothering the other passengers. The man tries to protest, arguing that he wasn’t doing anything wrong and shouldn’t have to move since it’s not a crime to try to make conversation.

Renault purposefully muses to himself aloud, wondering if he’ll have to arrest the man when the train stops in Marseilles or Oran. Not a crime, eh?He’d beg to differ. Refusing a direct order from an officer could be a very serious offense. As the only police officer on board the train, it’d be much too easy for Renault to find an excuse and make out a report, even if he’d have to make one up. What a shock it would be if it was reported that the man was found with a stolen diamond necklace in his pocket and apprehended for jewelry theft. It’s the man’s word or Renault’s, and it’s glaringly obvious who the appropriate authorities would believe. The creepy man thinks he’s getting off with a warning and doesn’t have the courage to dare test his luck or to call Renault’s bluff. He’s deemed the risk too high so, instead, he immediately stands down and stops bothering you, suddenly too intimidated and embarrassed by the Captain’s presence and threats. He finally takes the hint and gets up to leave, but not before he’s given one last warning of what’ll happen if he doesn’t desist and is caught bothering any woman again.

After that little scene, Captain Renault doesn’t want to leave you alone while you’re in such a fragile physical and emotional state. He sits across from you, volunteering to keep you company and protect you from anyone else who may try to bother you or give you trouble. You spend a considerable amount of time together, and you share with him your hope to get a fresh start when you come to the end of your journey and finally arrive in Casablanca. He asks you if you could drop the formality of calling him by his rank and simply call him Louis, since he has a feeling this may be the start of a beautiful friendship.

It’s a very, very, very long train ride, and you eventually fall asleep, both physically and emotionally drained. Louis watches over you while you sleep until he rests his eyes for a bit and accidentally dozes off too. When you awaken you realize it’s still night time and you’re cuddled up to him with your head rested on his shoulder while he has an arm wrapped protectively around you. That’s funny, you don’t remember ever moving over. You both must’ve been more exhausted than you thought because you nearly miss your stop. You cross the Mediterranean to Oran and then board another train to get across the rim of Africa to Casablanca.

You go your separate ways upon your arrival. You’re fortunate enough to find a place to live and make yourself as comfortable as you can, working a job that’s not too strenuous on you as your stomach gets bigger. It’s not very spacious and the upkeep of the building is lacking, but it’ll have to do for now until you can afford to find something better. You realize quickly that while Casablanca is considered neutral, it’s not the safest place. You’ve witnessed the customary roundup of refugees, liberals and, of course, a beautiful young girl for Captain Renault. Sex tourism is technically legal due to the corrupt officials who often turn a blind eye and even participate in underhanded and shady activities such as gambling, extortion, and dealings on the black market.

Gendarmes have shot men dead in the street for trying to flee after being found to possess expired papers. On multiple occasions, you’ve overheard a man you know to be a nefarious pickpocket talk to unsuspecting and wealthy tourists who have been attracted to Casablanca for the warm climate, beautiful women and, of course, for the chance to board the plane to Lisbon and seek passage to America. He’ll keep them distracted with chitchat, always sticking to the same script. It’s always something along the lines of, “Unfortunately, along with these unhappy refugees...the scum of Europe has gravitated to Casablanca. Some of them have been waiting years for a visa. I beg of you, Monsieur, watch yourself. Be on guard. This place is full of vultures. Vultures everywhere. Everywhere!” And they’re none the wiser while he robs them blind using sleight of hand tricks. You’ve been extra careful to keep your guard up and steer clear of him whenever he’s around.

One afternoon, you’re sitting at a table outside of your favorite café with a couple of young women you’ve befriended. They tell you all about Captain Louis Renault. They warn you that he exhibits a corrupt and apathetic nature. He works with Nazis, collects bribes and gambling winnings from fixed games at Rick’s Café Américain despite it being illegal, and he extorts sex from women in exchange for exit visas, whether they’re married or not. Most women who are his type, young and beautiful, can’t afford his monetary price for the exit visas he’s selling. They feel like they have no choice but to perform sexual favors for him in exchange for exit visas, all facts Renault is very much aware of. So many women are desperate to escape to America for the sake and happiness of their husbands, even if it means doing something they’ll be ashamed of. Renault is only interested in seeking out his own pleasure and often overindulges in tobacco, alcohol, and sex. Considering how dangerous Casablanca can be, he lives as if he could die any day at any moment.

He’s a rake and a hedonist, perfectly happy to drink or screw himself to death without a care for what goes on outside Casablanca. The silver lining is that he’s always kept his word and procured the exit visas after his price has been paid one way or another. You get to know more about this other side of him that he didn’t display while keeping you company on the train. Your friends share with you their stories and personal experiences with him as a sort of cautionary tale. Both women wish they didn’t have to do it and could’ve left the country without giving in to Louis’ demands, which he called requests because it sounded like a much more pleasant word. But their husbands’ desperate efforts to scrounge up the money through any means necessary all failed. Your friends love their husbands very much, but they saw the toll their failures were taking on them. They felt like they had no other choice. The happiness of the men they love and consider their best friends was the only thing that they wanted in the whole world, but they did a bad thing to make certain of it. And their husbands still don’t know and will never know because they’ll keep this bad thing locked in their hearts. That’ll be all right, won’t it?

Yes, you believe it will be. After all, you loved your husband just as much as they love theirs. If your husband were here and you were in their position, you probably would’ve done the same thing. They found themselves stuck between a rock and a hard place, faced with a plight you wouldn’t wish on anyone, not even your worst enemy. You can forgive them, but they needn’t ask your forgiveness. Like you and many others, your friends don’t want to die in Casablanca. It’s not hard for you to empathize with them. They give you kisses goodbye, promising to write to you. They’ll be waiting for you in America and hope to get together sometime and meet your baby in person once you come over. In the meantime, you’ll have to send them pictures of your baby once he or she is born, and they’ll look forward to hearing about how motherhood is going for you.

Meanwhile, Louis is not a man of strong conviction. He’s a friend to whoever is in power at the time. He works with Major Strasser, but never with Strasser's sense of urgency or conviction. What he does for Strasser is meant to convey a veneer of loyalty. He’s rounded up twice the usual number of suspects. He’s staged Signor Ugarte’s arrest at Rick’s and may have even been directly involved in his death. When he was making out the report, he was still deciding if Ugarte committed suicide or died trying to escape. He’s closed Rick's establishment after pretending to be shocked that gambling had been going on in there, while happily accepting his fixed roulette winnings from the croupier, Emil, in the same breath. Everything he’s done has been to simply to impress his German superior, but he seems not to care one way or the other. He blows with the wind, and the prevailing wind happens to be from Vichy.

You go into labor at an inopportune time while out in public, drawing the attention of bystanders which, in turn, draws the attention of nearby gendarmes and Louis. He immediately rushes into action and helps you to stand and walk as he escorts you to his car and buckles you in, telling his men that he has the situation under control and they can return to as they were. He drives you to the hospital and sits in the waiting room or in a chair in the hallway outside your room the entire time you’re in labor, no matter how many hours pass. Since he’s an official, visiting hours don’t apply to him. Every time a nurse or doctor exits your room or walks by, he asks how you’re faring. He may know a thing or two about women, but he’s unsure how long childbirth should typically last.

Considering it hasn’t been that long ago since your husband died, Louis believes it to still be too soon to admit or act upon his feelings for you. He probably won’t say anything for a good while yet, but he’s fallen in love with you in the time he’s known you. He feels ashamed of himself because you’re probably still grieving and only see him as a friend at most. He’s been sleeping with other women to try to distract himself but, no matter how hard he tries to push his feelings for you down, you always find your way back into his thoughts. He’s tried to get over you, but nothing has ever worked. He’s broken out of his contemplation when one of the nurses approaches him to tell him the news. It’s finally over.

When you permit him to enter your room, his heart swells and grows three sizes. He swallows nervously when he sees your exhausted but elated smile. Your messy hair is sticking to your skin that’s covered in a thin layer of sweat. Droplets still run down your head and neck, giving your skin the illusion of a light sheen. He grabs a wet cloth and wipes the sweat from your skin for you and fetches you a glass of water as he asks how you’re faring. When you ask what he’s still doing here, he lies and claims that he did, in fact, leave to conduct official police business nearby, but then the hospital was on the way when he was doing his patrol rounds. He thought he’d stop by to check in with you briefly before heading back to the Palais de Justice to finish up his incredibly boring paperwork. You know he’s lying to try to emotionally distance himself from the situation and put up a facade of unfeeling indifference. But no matter how much he claims his heart is his least vulnerable spot, it’s just not true. He truly is a romantic and a sentimentalist. He comes to visit you in the hospital periodically throughout the day, and you show him how to hold your baby despite his weak protests that he shouldn’t or doesn’t want to. When you’re discharged and able to bring your baby home a few hours or a day later, he finds the time so he can volunteer to drive you.

Time goes by. Could be months, could be years, but the fateful day has finally come, and you’ve somehow obtained two exit visas for you and your child. Louis may or may not have pulled some strings and countersigned them for you, filling in the names himself to make it look as official as possible. You’re pushing through the crowd to get to the airport. Louis is coming from the opposite direction at the same time you’re trying to board the plane to Lisbon. The bustling crowd of people surrounding you is almost claustrophobic as it squishes you and Louis together face first and you accidentally lock lips as you collide into each other. You’re so embarrassed but he just smiles charmingly, giving you a sly smirk to tease you. He came to say goodbye, but he wasn’t expecting such a sweet goodbye kiss from your lovely lips. You promise to write to each other, and Louis bids both you and your baby goodbye, wishing you safe travels as the last call for boarding is announced. You board the plane and look out the window, but Louis is lost amongst the crowd and you can’t find him. The plane takes off and the people become tiny, indistinguishable specks.

The clipper arrives to port and is docked somewhere in New York. You’ve disembarked and are sitting on a bench somewhere with your baby, just enjoying the city view as you take your time to contemplate what your next move will be now that you’re finally in America. There was a time when you never thought you’d make it this far, and now that you’re actually here, you’re not quite sure what to do next. Maybe you can contact your friends and stay with them? Just for a little while until you find your footing. You’re broken out of your thoughts when a man asks if he can sit next to you. You know that voice. You look up and it’s Louis.

When you boarded the plane to Lisbon, he knew then that if he let you get away for good, he’d regret it every day for the rest of his life. So he had a sudden change of heart and decided to follow you, the woman he loves. Louis knows he shouldn’t ask this of you and that it goes against propriety, but he doesn’t want to be apart from you. He asks if you’d like to go with him to find a place to live and move in with him. When the war is over, the world won’t be the same place as it was when it started, and he promises you that he’ll make something of himself. He doesn’t have a ring now, but would you ever consider marrying him after the war is over?

He’s got a point when he says this goes against propriety and may not be considered socially acceptable, but you believe that it’s better to try to survive together than to try to survive alone in an unfamiliar country. Together you take the bus and go apartment-hunting. You find one. Louis says it must be an abandoned dance studio or something of that nature, but it’ll do for now. You won’t stay here long and will find something bigger and better soon. Once you settle in, one of the first things you do is look up your friends and get in contact with them either through phone or by writing them letters in the mail.

Sometime after the end of the war is announced, you’re married by a Justice of the Peace who’s a bookmaker on the side. Louis has a dollar and a half and the Judge wants two, so Louis makes a bet with him, and loses. An unfortunate setback when the odds aren’t fixed in his favor like they were at Rick’s casino in Casablanca. Louis borrows five dollars from the Judge, leaving your watch as security. He says, "One day is just like another, so what difference does the exact time make?" The ring he’s given you is made from one of his watch chains, but it’s a perfect fit around your finger. It’s lovely and means more to you than any diamond ever could because he made it himself. You’ll treasure it always. You have your wedding breakfast at a coffeeshop. It’s a cheap and imperfect affair, but that makes it all the more genuine. It’s the most romantic wedding you could ever ask for because it’s yours and Louis’ wedding. It’s a perfect reflection of yourselves, rough around the edges and all. You don’t have to get married in style to be happy. All you need is him and your child.

Louis becomes the proud stepfather to your child. He loves and raises them as if they’re his own. They’re his child in every sense of the word except blood. You follow through with your promise to your friends and meet up with them for a little casual get-together, although it may be incredibly awkward at first, given their history with Louis. They watch him through narrowed eyes at first, their gazes full of contempt and uncertainty, but they relax and lighten up when they see for themselves that he’s had a change of heart. The way he interacts with both you and your child is just so loving, so doting. It’s like he’s a completely different man from the corrupt officer they left behind in Casablanca.

He’s left behind his rank as Captain and put his uniforms away, instead pursuing a more honest line of work. He’s become a much better version of himself. Who is this man and what has he done with Captain Renault? And your child is just so cute and adorable, it’s very distracting! When you let your friends hold and play with your child, It’s tough trying to get them back because your friends want to hold and play with them all day! They get such joy from bouncing them and talking to them in baby voices. Either they’ve got the itch or are already working on starting families of their own. You can recognize the signs because you’re feeling the baby itch too. You want another child, but you’ll need to discuss it with Louis first.

You leave your child in the care of a trusted friend while you and Louis go on a romantic excursion around Europe for your honeymoon, stopping at beautiful landmarks along the way. Your first stop is Switzerland. The main reason you decided to go on this romantic getaway trip is because you and Louis want to expand your family. Prior to boarding, your travel agent clues you in on a fun fact about the ride. He says, “By the way, the third tunnel is fifty minutes long. It’s tradition for honeymooners to take advantage of that time.”

You and Louis want to make the most of your honeymoon and get the full European experience with a dash of American flair by having sex on the train that’s transporting you from Switzerland to France. The train you take carries not only passengers but sleeper cars as well. Too bad all of them are full. You’re surrounded by other cabins and compartments with families in them, so you have to be extremely careful and wait for the tunnels. When the train enters the third tunnel, it’s as dark as the travel agent had described. It’s an absence of light. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. It’s so very exciting. You and Louis take advantage of the time you have, or try to. All of a sudden within a short period of time you and Louis start seeing the features of each other’s faces, and you’re both thinking that your eyes are getting acclimated to the dark. But no. Your eyes aren’t adjusting. Your train is coming to a station. Before either of you know it, the train enters broad daylight while you’re both half naked. You, his gorgeous wife, say to Louis those three words a man always wants to hear, “Get off me.”

You’re able to fix your clothing and make yourselves look decent without drawing too much attention. You think fast and make it look like Louis is sick and just resting his head on your lap while you comb your fingers through his hair to comfort him. You’re both very lucky nobody saw anything. It’s a miracle neither of you were arrested or fined for engaging in sex acts in front of other passengers. Well, you got the European thrill with a dash of American flair you were both seeking, just not in the way either of you expected. You’re so embarrassed now, but you’ll look back on this moment and laugh about it later.

You call your friend multiple times every day to check in and ask how she and your child are doing back at home, and they’re doing just fine. You laugh at the stories she tells you of what your child has been doing. When you arrive in Paris, you’re finally able to fulfill your promise to your first husband and give him a proper headstone bearing his name. You and Louis stand at his grave and tell him everything that’s happened. That you’ve learned to love again and remarried. That you’ve found happiness, just like he had hoped for. You and Louis promise your first husband and each other that you’ll tell your child all about their biological father when they’re old enough.

Time moves forward so fast that, before you know it, you’re moving out of your apartment and into a newer and bigger house that’ll be just perfect for your growing family. You and Louis were on the hunt for so long, talking about this house in hypotheticals so much that you almost weren’t sure the day would actually come. But it has, and you just know that this is your forever home. You’re so excited to finally make it yours. Louis is just as excited as you are, though he may just be eager to carry you over the threshold and christen your house.

Time keeps moving forward, and you’re standing on a crowded train with Louis and your child. A friendly passenger standing next to you gestures to you and says to someone sitting down, "Would you mind giving up your seat for this young lady here? She’s pregnant and has been suffering morning sickness.” Everyone, including you, looks at the stranger with a furrowed brow. You know you’re pregnant, Louis knows you’re pregnant, but your stomach isn’t visible yet, so how did this stranger know? They just smile at you knowingly, saying they’re so experienced in this matter that they’ve become very in tuned with body language and can easily recognize the signs. Call it intuition, if you want. When you think about it, it’s funny how much of your and Louis’ love story has taken place on a train, of all things.

#captain renault x reader #captain louis renault x reader #Louis renault x reader #captain Louis Renault #louis renault #captain renault #casablanca #random prompt #random fic ideas #fic ideas #fic prompt #pls tag me if you’re inspired by this #I’d love to read it

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queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

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Defender, Protector, Keeper (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: This is one of those things I write that should have a first part but.... It doesn’t.... I do plan on making more within this little.... world??? With this mom!reader and her son Ben. So sorry for this mess.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: violence, nothing out of canon, Micah is mean to children, mute child (is that a warning?) fluff, Arthur being a father figureish thing, soft Arthur, I don’t know what else to tag, blood? it’s all canon to the game

Summary: Arthur steps in to help you with your son after a run in with Micah.

***

“Miss Y/L/N! Miss Y/L/N!”

You moved out of the tent upon hearing Mrs. Grimshaw calling your name.

“Right here, Mrs. Grimshaw.”

“There you are. Where is that boy of yours?” She looked around as if trying to peek into the tent. I’ve got a little chore for him and Jack.”

“He was just in here helping me with laundry, but he wouldn’t mind giving you a hand.” You turned to go into the tent. “Ben? Mrs. Grimshaw needs your help.”

Ben, your five-year-old son, put the clothing in his hand down and looked at you.

“Come on with me, Ben. I’ve already got Jack over by the woods.” Susan gestured for him to follow her.

“What are the boys going to do?” You asked her.

“Help Lenny and Sean pick some firewood. The little fellas ain’t gonna pick nothin’ but some small kindling. The fellas– Well, Lenny won’t let the boys hurt themselves.”

You fought the urge to volunteer to follow your son. It was just little kindling sticks and twigs. It wasn’t like they were going to chop down entire trees.

Susan, sensing your hesitation, stopped just at the edge of your tent.

“They aren’t going far into the woods at all, Y/N. Charles and Bill are on guard duty and Sean and Lenny are going to be with them. Nothin’s gonna happen to those boys.” She assured you.

You nodded your head, reaching down to run your fingers over Ben’s hair.

“Go on and help Mrs. Grimshaw, Ben.”

He silently followed alongside her.

You continued to fold laundry until it was finished. Once that was complete, you decided to go out and see if there was anything else around camp you could help with.

It seemed to be a rather mellow evening. No one was out doing any jobs nor was anyone talking about any jobs, which was a rarity. In the three months that you had been staying with the Van Der Linde Gang, you had quickly realized their lifestyle was fast paced and there was almost always something to do.

You made your way over towards the tent the girls in camp stayed in.

“Hi, Y/N.” Tilly greeted you first. She was reading a book.

“Hey, Y/N!” Mary-Beth was also reading. Karen sat on a chair next to the two singing. “You wanna sit with us for a bit? You’ve been working hard all day.”

“That’s okay, Mary-Beth. I think I should go see if Ben is doing okay with Sean and Lenny.” You looked around towards the woods.

“What’s he doing with those two fools?” Tilly put her book down in her lap.

“Mrs. Grimshaw had him and Jack helping them with firewood.”

“Last I saw, Lenny and Sean were sitting over by the fire.”

A knot began to form in your stomach. Why hadn’t your son returned to you?

You moved to search for Lenny and Sean, but they proved to be easy to find. They were sitting at a fire with a few other gang members.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” You cut off Sean. “Where is Ben at?”

“Hi, Miss Y/L/N.” Lenny gave you a charming smile. “Ben and Jack went over towards John and Abigail’s tent. Jack said they were going to play.”

“Thank you, Mr. Summers.”

***

You did indeed find your son at John and Abigail’s tent. He sat outside of it with Jack. Jack was talking about some sort of story that Hosea had told him about a bear while your little Benny just kept playing with his half of the deck of cards.

“Y/N.”

You looked up to Abigail.

“Hi, Abigail.”

“I hope you don’t mind that Jack brought Ben over. I know Susan had them working earlier.”

“I don’t mind.” You shook your head, smiling. You crossed your arms as you watched Ben. Jack didn’t seem to care that Ben was silent and wasn’t responding to him. Jack had learned since you both arrived at camp that talking wasn’t something Ben did, so he usually did all of the talking for Jack. You were thankful for this. In the beginning, you weren’t sure how young Jack would react to your quiet son.

“Do you want to sit down and have a cup of coffee with me?” Abigail asked. “I don’t usually get much down time, but neither do you. You’re always running around.”

“Have to keep busy, you know.” You chuckled a little. “Coffee sounds nice.”

The both of you got your drinks and then sat down at a table not too far from the boys.

“They grow like weeds.” She thought out loud, shaking her head softly. “I’m gonna have to get Jack some new clothes soon. He’s about to be too big for nearly all the pants he’s got. Maybe Ben could fit into what Jack can’t wear. Ben is a little thing. That way you don’t have to go out and waste money. I mean, the clothes aren’t perfect. Jack has needed them patched more than once. But they work.”

“That’s very kind of you, Abigail. Thank you.”

She gave you a smile.

“Momma! Momma!” Jack called as he ran over to Abigail.

Ben rushed up to you, a smile on his lips. His hair fell into his face and he tried to wipe it out of his eyes but he didn’t do too good of a job.

“Hi, love.” You smiled down at him, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Are you having fun?”

He nodded, looking over to Jack.

“Momma, can we go give Sean his cards back?”

“Where is Sean at?” Abigail asked, looking around the camp.

“He’s just on the other side of camp at one of the other fires.” You told her, recalling where you had seen him earlier.

“If Miss Y/L/N says that Ben can go, then yes. You can. But you have to ask her.”

Ben tugged on your skirt as if to ask you.

“Miss Y/L/N! Can we take Sean his cards?” Jack waved the stack of cards around.

“I don’t see why not.”

“I’ll race you over there!”

You watched as Jack took off first with Ben just behind him.

“I’m glad Jack finally has someone to play with and keep him company.” Abigail smiled.

“They get along so well.” You nodded. “I was a little…. worried at first, if I’m honest.”

“Oh really?”

“Just because…. Well, sometimes it’s hard for Ben.”

Abigail nodded her head understandingly.

“He’s a sweet boy, Y/N. You raised him well.”

“Thank you-,”

“You dumb little rat! Watch where you’re going next time!”

You stood up upon hearing the sound of shouting. Feeling the urge to find out what had happened, you ventured across camp until you found your son and Micah Bell. Micah had a hold of Ben’s arm and was holding him at an awkward angle.

“When someone speaks to you, little boy, you’re supposed to answer them!”

“Micah!” You raised your voice.

Micah turned his head to look at you but didn’t let your son’s arm go.

Anger bubbled in your veins.

“Ah, the whore. Maybe someone better teach this boy manners before he ends up worse than his ma.”

You pushed against Micah’s chest. Ben was crying at this point, trying to grab onto your skirt anywhere he could but Micah was finding amusement in pulling the boy away from you.

“Micah! Get your hands off of that boy!” Abigail shouted.

The next few moments happened all too quickly for you to know what exactly happened. But Micah released Ben and he fell backwards to the ground. Your hand flew up to smack him and you landed a nice hit on his cheek, but he was quicker than you and far more skilled in fighting so the backhand to your cheek came out of seemingly nowhere.

You took a few steps back to keep from falling flat on your ass. You ended up hitting something solid. A hand found your side and another your arm.

It was Arthur Morgan. He only took a couple seconds to make sure you were steady on your feet before moving around you to deliver two punches to Micah. The nasty man fell back as blood began to pour out of his nose.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Abigail rushed to one side of you and Mary-Beth came to the other.

You didn’t answer them. You only pushed them away to get to your son.

Tears streamed down his cheeks as he sat in the dirt where he had fallen.

There was a hand on your wrist that stopped you just before you could get to him.

Arthur turned you back around to face him. You pulled against him, wanting desperately to get to your son.

“You’ve got blood on ya, pumpkin.” He murmured quietly, using his thumb to wipe away the little bit of blood from your busted lip. “He don’t need to see that.”

“Th-Thank you.” You whispered.

“Can I pick him up? Move him somewhere else for you?”

You nodded.

Arthur let you go and moved towards Ben.

“Come here, Benny. You alright?”

Ben nodded his head, shyly tucking his face into Arthur’s neck.

Arthur took him to a table and sat him down on it, then pulled out a chair for you. But you couldn’t sit down just yet. You had to make sure he was okay.

Your hands cupped his face and tilted his head up so you could check him over for any marks.

“Are you okay, love? Does anything hurt?”

He held up his hands to you, showing that his palms were scraped up and bleeding a little. He sniffled, his bottom lip quivering.

“I’ll get somethin’ to clean those up, Y/N.” Mary-Beth spoke, moving towards Strauss’s wagon.

Upon seeing the scratches and bleeding scrapes from Ben falling back and catching himself on his hands, anger welled up inside of Arthur.

He turned and started to make his way towards Micah.

“Arthur! Arthur Morgan!” Abigail called after him, but she couldn’t stop him herself. “John! Mr. Smith! Please!”

You couldn’t pay attention to what was happening with Arthur right now. Ben was important and took priority.

You brushed his hair back and sat down in front of him.

“I’m so sorry you got hurt, love.” You leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

He wrapped his arms around your neck, careful not to touch you with his injured hands, and then slid down into your lap.

A few moments later, Mary-Beth returned with a bowl of water and a few rags. Tilly was with her too, helping to carry bandages.

“Are you alright, Benji?” Tilly asked. He nodded his head without lifting it from your chest. “He didn’t get too hurt by that nasty Micah, did he?”

“Think it just spooked him more than anything.” You answered her. “Thank you, girls.”

The items were placed on the table and then they left.

“Ben, I need you to sit on the table so I can reach you, love.”

He shook his head.

“We’ve got to get these scratches cleaned up, okay? We don’t want them to get yucky.”

A hand found your shoulder. You looked to see Arthur moving around your chair.

“Lemme give ya some help. That way Benny can stay on your lap where he’s comfortable.”

You nodded your head, giving him a little smile as a thank you.

“Hey, Benny? Can I see your hands?”

Benny shifted around on your lap so that he could easily face Arthur. He gave Arthur one hand.

“This might sting just a bit, but I promise it’ll be over soon.”

Arthur got a rag wet and began to clean the dirt and little bit of blood from Ben’s small palm.

“You’re a strong fella, Benny. You know that?”

Ben sniffled.

“I heard you helped Sean and Lenny with getting firewood. Did you carry all the big logs by yourself?”

A little grin tugged at your son’s lips. He shook his head.

Once he was cleaned up and Arthur had carefully wrapped up his hands, Ben looked around for Jack. He was with Hosea. The two weren’t very far away at all. Ben shimmied down from your lap but stayed by you. His eyes were focused on Jack. He wanted to go play with his friend.

“You can go on, love.” You told him. He flashed you a little toothy smile before taking off in the direction of Hosea and Jack.

Arthur stayed on his knees beside you for a few moments, watching Ben go. He let out a breath through his nose and shook his head.

“That bastard is lucky I don’t put a bullet in him.” He rose to his feet, shaking his head.

“Ben is okay, Arthur.” You turned your head to look at him. “He just…. He was just shaken up a bit. But he’s okay.”

“He hit you too. No man should ever treat a lady like that.”

You admired his words, the way he viewed things.

A little smile came to your lips and you watched him sit down next to you.

“Well, Mr. Morgan. Not everyone has the same ideals as you.”

Arthur shook his head, fingers curling into a fist. He was still worked up over the situation.

“It’ll be okay, Arthur.” You reached over to place your hand on his. “I can take a hit just fine. But I do appreciate you stepping in. It was really kind of you to help clean up Ben.”

He became a bit sheepish at your words, tipping his head down so you couldn’t see his eyes completely thanks to the brim of his hat. He cleared his throat.

“Just-Just hate seein’ the little guy cry is all.”

You smiled a bit and gave his hand a squeeze before moving away from the table he sat at.

Arthur watched you leave, then turned his head to watch the two youngest members of the gang with Hosea. Hosea was telling a story while Jack and Ben listened.

Arthur turned his head back to see where you had gone off to. You were standing with Abigail near Pearson’s tent. Abigail said something that caused you to look at Arthur, a smile pulling at your lips then you looked back at her, shaking your head and bringing your hand up to cover your mouth. It was a poor attempt to hide a giggle.

Arthur fixed the hat on his head and decided to go towards his horse.

“When are you gonna tell her?” Charles spoke from his horse. He was messing with a strap of Taima’s saddle.

“Tell her what?”

Charles rolled his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m not oblivious to it, Arthur. I don’t think any of us in camp are.”

“To what?”

“That you fancy her.”

Arthur mounted his horse, shifting around in the saddle a bit.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Mr. Smith.” He adjusted his hat.

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t.”

“You wanna come with me? Or keep standing there goin’ on about it?”

Taglist: @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday @micahs-bird

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan fluff #arthur morgan rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan x reader fluff #oneshot #queenxxxsupreme

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plaidbooks · 2 years

Note

Making Gingerbread House with the Carisi Clan. Also if you're interested you can add in a fake dating trope where Carisi asks y/n to come coz his whole family is bugging him. P.S: Can't wait for all the amazing stuff you will come up with for this bingo challenge. 😍😍 #the christmas bingo you posted. I forgot the name. Sorry

Building Blocks

A/N: This prompt is so cute! And of course, I had to take that idea of a fake dating trope! All the Italian translations are done by google, so I hope they're sufficient--the translations are in the beginning. This covers the Xmas Baking square in @storiesofsvu holiday bingo. I hope you enjoy!

PS: this takes place around the end of s17, back when Sonny was a tad overdramatic 🤣

Tags: none outside of food mentions

Words: 2064

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @permanentlydizzy @ben-c-group-therapy @infiniteoddball @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @alwaysachorusgirl @glimmerglittergirl @joanofarkansass @caracalwithchips @beardsanddetectives @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles @crowleysqueenofhell @dreamlover31

Italian translations:

Perchè no = why not

Non dirmi che siete solo amici, voglio dei nipotini = don't tell me you're only friends, I want grandkids

Un giorno, prometti = one day, promise

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

“Please, please, please come over for the weekend with me! All my sisters are going to have a plus one and my parents keep askin’ me when I’m gonna bring a woman home with me. Please!” Sonny begged. He was on his knees on the carpeted floor of your living room, hands clasped together like a prayer.

“Sonny…” you started, but you stopped when he bent forward, head on the ground.

“I’ll do anythin’ ya want! I’m already grovelin’ at your feet, doll! Please!”

You leaned down, touching his shoulder gently. “What I was going to say was that you don’t have to beg me, Sonny. I don’t mind going to your parent’s place for a weekend.”

He popped up to his knees, giving you a smile of disbelief. “Really? You’ll come?”

“Of course; we’re friends, aren’t we?”

His grin solidified, taking up his whole face. “Best friends,” he agreed. “I owe ya.”

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

When Sonny pulled up in front of his parent’s house on Staten Island, you quirked an eyebrow. There was only one car in the driveway, but otherwise, the street was deserted.

“Are we here early?” you asked. When Sonny gave you a confused look, you continued, “I don’t see any cars…unless your sisters took public transit.”

“Nah, they’ll be here tomorrow. I always come a day early ta help ma with the baking,” he explained. You found that incredibly endearing, and you smiled softly as he guided you up to the front door.

He knocked and you waited with bated breath before the door opened, revealing an older woman with a smile brighter than the sun—you finally understood where Sonny got his smile from.

“Sonny,” she muttered affectionately before holding her arms open. He wrapped her in a tight hug, and even though she only reached his chest, she leaned fully into the embrace.

“Hey ma,” he whispered back, ducking his head to kiss her cheek. He finally let her go and introduced you. Mama Carisi greeted you the same, pulling you in for a tight hug and kissing your cheek.

It was easy to feel at home in the Carisi household; it was warm and full of love. You shook hands with Dominick Sr., who towered over even Sonny. And then you followed Mama Carisi into the expansive kitchen, Sonny on your heels. He rolled up his sleeves and went to wash his hands, and you followed suit.

“I thought you said we were going to be making gingerbread houses, Sonny,” you asked, voice hushed so his mom wouldn’t hear.

He turned the water off and grabbed a towel to dry both your hands. With a grin, he said, “we are. Tomorrow. Gotta make the gingerbread, first, doll.”

You quickly learned that the gingerbread house kits that most stores sold were seen as blasphemy by the Carisi’s; it was fresh or nothing. There were two separate ovens—a relic from raising such a big family—and Mama Carisi started to preheat them both.

You weren’t quite sure what you were supposed to be doing, so you just followed the instructions given to you. Mama Carisi made the dough—by hand, mixers were not allowed, and even with her older body, her forearms proved years of making food by hand—and Sonny rolled out the dough, cutting shapes and designs into it. Your job was to take the finished dough from Mama Carisi and pass it to Sonny, then take the cookies he’d finished and put them in the ovens. You set the two timers and took the cookies out when they chimed, letting them cool for a bit before taking them off the sheets and refilling them with new dough. It was a well-oiled machine, and once you found the rhythm, you found that it was so much fun.

“So, how long have you two been together?” Mama Carisi asked. She had planned this: in the kitchen, neither of you could escape her questioning. You looked to Sonny, wondering if you should correct her, tell her you’re not dating, or if he would just play along.

“Um, we met a few years ago while in line at Starbucks,” Sonny explained. Not a lie; you had met when the barista called out an order and you both reached for it. You both argued over who should take it, and you had been friends since.

Mama Carisi clicked her tongue in disapproval. “And you didn’t bring her over earlier, Sonny? Perchè no?” You didn’t understand Italian, so you just continued kneading dough, your face burning.

“Ah, we haven’t been dating for years, ma! We’re only—”

“Non dirmi che siete solo amici, voglio dei nipotini, Dominick.”

“Ma! Un giorno, prometti! Now please, don’t, not now!” he said.

She gave him a look, and when her eyes connected to yours, you swallowed and paid super attention to the cookies you were transferring to the cooling rack.

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

That night, you slept in Bella’s old room after Mama Carisi not-so-subtly told you both to sleep separated. Your face was on fire in embarrassment while you sat on the bed. There was a knock on your door, and you called out, “uh, come in?”

Sonny quickly opened the door, squeezed in, and closed it again. “Hey, sorry about my ma—she’s just...she really wants me to settle down, ya know?” He was shifting back and forth on his feet, wringing his hands.

“Um...it’s fine. I don’t know what she was saying, anyways,” you explained, smiling sheepishly.

He looked down at his feet, refusing to make eye contact. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. But, um....”

“What is it, Sonny? You know you can tell me.”

He finally looked up at you, and you could see his nerves all over his face. “Is it...I mean, would it be okay if we.... Tomorrow, could you just...maybe pretend we’re dating? To appease her?”

“I—I—” you sputtered. Now you were really curious what it was she was saying in the kitchen. But Sonny looked so desperate, and you found yourself saying, “yeah, sure. Won’t be a problem.”

“Really? You mean it?” he asked, a smile pulling across his face. “Ah, you’re the best! Thank you so much—I’ll never forget this!”

After a few more thank you’s, he left your room and you collapsed onto your back. Was it too late to tell him that you didn’t want to fake date him? That you wanted to date him, for real?

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

Breakfast was delicious, but tense. You and Sonny sat across from each other and you caught him giving you long, linger looks, looks that made your face heat. You would give him a small smile, eyes connecting, before looking away. But you couldn’t tell if that was part of the façade or not. What made it more awkward was when you’d catch Mama Carisi watching you both.

The chaos started before Dominick Sr. finished washing the last dish. Teresa and her daughter Mia showed up first, followed closely by a very pregnant Bella and her new husband, Tommy. Gina and the guy Sonny referred to as “the boyfriend of the week” arrived about 20 minutes later.

You had dutifully been next to Sonny as he greeted his sisters, niece, and brother-in-law warmly, and you tried not to look embarrassed when he introduced you as his girlfriend. But the title made you smile sincerely—you only wished it wasn’t fake. Which is why you pretended it wasn’t.

Sonny, Dominick Sr., and Tommy started moving the tables together, and you, Bella, Teresa, and Mia started bringing out the cookies. Gina, her boyfriend, and Mama Carisi began arranging the cookies by what they were: the walls and roofs together, doors and windows together, people together, etc.

The girls had brought over the icing and decorations, and those got laid out, too. Once everything was out, you were unsure where to even start. So, you waited. Mia, being the youngest Carisi (not in name, but it still counted), picked her starting piece, a wall, first. And then, it was simultaneously a free-for-all, and a collaboration.

“Gina, can ya pass two roof pieces, please?”

“Hey Tommy, can you hand me that tube of red icing?”

“Mr. Carisi, could you please pass me that bag of gumdrops?”

Everyone worked on their own house, but would help each other if asked. At one point, you held Sonny’s walls up as he placed his roof on top. And everyone was talking, laughing, telling stories that happened between now and the last time they were all together.

“This gingerbread smells so good,” you commented to Sonny. It was true that the smell was overwhelming while it baked yesterday, but now it was more muted, and smelled delicious. Your mouth was watering as you build your ramshackled house—it wasn’t about who made a better looking house. It was about the tradition.

“Here,” Sonny said. He broke a leg off the gingerbread man he was currently decorating and held the leg up to your mouth. “A warning, though—once ya try my ma’s gingerbread, there’s no goin’ back ta the store bought crap.”

You smiled and bit into the leg he offered. At first, you thought he had been over exaggerating, but he wasn’t; you could never go back. “Please tell me you know the recipe—”

“I do; I’ll teach it to ya,” he replied. You gave him a smile, and he noticed a bit of frosting on your lip. Without too much thought, he leaned in and kissed you, licking the frosting from your skin. You melted into that kiss, but too soon he was pulling away from you. The look on his face though...if you didn’t know better, you’d think that kiss was intentional and not a ploy to trick his family.

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

The gingerbread houses lasted long enough for pictures, their makers standing proudly next to them, before they were devoured. By the end of it, everyone was waddling around like Bella, happy and full.

Everyone helped with cleaning up, Dominick Sr. taking his place at the sink, washing the dishes as they came in. You and Sonny had collected garbage into bags and were carrying them outside, and you figured there was no better time to talk than now.

“Hey, Sonny?” you asked as he lifted the garbage can lid.

“What’s up, doll?”

You placed the bag in the can, then stood there awkwardly next to him. You could feel his eyes on you, so you just let it out, “you know how you said you’d do anything if I came this weekend?”

“Uh, yeah?” he replied sheepishly, curious about where you were going with that.

“Well, um...I’d like to cash that in now.” You finally looked up at him to find his blue eyes scanning your face. “May I have a kiss?”

His cheeks turned a bright pink and his eyes widened. “Oh! Uh, I’m sorry about that kiss earlier—we, uh, we don’t haveta pretend out here—”

“I meant a real kiss,” you blurted before a hand flew up to your mouth. “I’m sorry, I mean...if you didn’t want to, then that’s okay, too.” I’m so fucking stupid, you thought, turning back towards the house.

But you didn’t get too far before a hand enclosed around your wrist, pulling you backwards. You turned and Sonny was kissing you, his lips crashing to yours in a desperate kiss. You had a moment to be shocked before you closed your eyes, kissing him back with passion. His hand came up to cup your cheek, tilting you to give him more access to your mouth.

“Was that real enough for ya, doll?” he muttered against your lips, a small smile on his face.

You let out a soft chuckle before kissing him again. It was only your first “real” kiss with him, but you already knew that you didn’t want to stop. His lips were so soft against yours, his hands gentle has they held you to him.

“Would you two lovebirds hurry the hell up?” a voice called.

Sonny grinned against your lips before pulling away. “Shuddup, Gina, we’re comin’!” he yelled back. Then he reached down and laced his fingers with yours, leading you back into his family’s home, and into his life as a real girlfriend.

#sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #my writing #storiesofsvuholidaybingo

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ginazmemeoir · 2 years

Text

here you go with chapter 3 of Shakuntala :D

tagging @rudolphsboyfriend @redirection04 @itsfookingloosah @gopikanyari @weird-u @aadyeah @holding-infinity-and-a-book @totallyforgotyouwerehere @dragonfairy1231 @allegoriesinmediasres @avani008 @taareginn @wtfrroch @meherjaaan

The ashram resounded with chants and sounds of the morning aarti. Shakuntala, who was now the de facto preceptor and leader of the school, took over from her father Kanva two years ago following his retirement. Under her, she had further expanded the ashram’s boundaries and even added a playground : mostly for her son Bharat. Agile and overtly energetic, as kids often are when they are twelve, it had become a near impossible task for Shakuntala to keep up with her son, even though everybody in the ashram helped her raise him. He had inherited his father’s drive for adventure and his mother’s curiosity, along with the former’s skin tone, which resembled that of freshly turned earth, and the latter’s facial structure.

He never really showed a fondness for books or literature, despite having a scholarly environment and a renowned erudite as his parent, who took every pain (including false threats) to make sure he was well read and knew how to write. The boy however showed a real talent for the arts and athletics. At any given point of the day, he could be found playing a flute or the veena. Already, he had taught himself how to wield a bamboo staff without any instruction and fearlessly led the occasional caravan departing from the ashram and brought in the new initiates from the riverbank. And so to keep his mind occupied and his energy utilised, the ashram’s boundaries had been expanded again and again : including a larger farm and a better playground and gymnasium.

That morning, as everybody in the ashram prayed to Saraswati and Aranyani : goddesses of learning and the forest respectively, Shakuntala noted her son’s absence. Hastily finishing the prayers, she went looking for him.

Soon enough, the sun reached overhead in the sky, and yet there was no sign of Bharat. The entire ashram got engaged in searching for him, with the students chatting away and giggling, grateful for the respite from the monotony of parchment and ink.

“Let him come today, I am going to teach him the best lesson of his life!” Shakuntala swore, sari tucked and hiked till her knees, feet caked with mud and her hair and skin coated with sweat. Crossing the wooden fence, she entered the sylvan realm. The forest, though surrounding the ashram, had always been a different world. Everything seemed brighter and sharper and enchanting, hiding the danger underneath. Shouting his name, she climbed over boulders and waded through a stream, until she finally came across her son and nearly fainted.

Bharat. Twelve-year old Bharat – wrestling a tiger! No, with his full hand inside the tiger’s gaping mouth! “Bharata, get away from him!” she shouted, warning her son. “It’s alright ma,” he said, never breaking eye contact with the fearsome beast, “he just has a toothache, I was checking if everything was alright. By the way his name is Ranga, he’s the naughty boy who ate two of our goats last month.” He continued, unfazed by the tiger. The tiger too lay next to him silently like a domestic cat, eyes widened and ears pressed against its head, tail swishing around. Shakuntala couldn’t help but gawk at the unusual scene, transfixed. She knew there was something special about that boy, but she never anticipated that which was happening now. She tiptoed to him slowly, and crouched behind him. No book, no treatise could’ve prepared either of them for this moment – nature favoured her children, and it turned out she considered Bharat one of her own. Mother and son sat there in the summer afternoon, trying their hands at animal dentistry, experiencing a bliss that the former knew she might not experience again. All too sudden, the moment shattered as Bharat raised a question Shakuntala feared might someday arise.

“Ma, who’s my father?” he asked innocently, sharpening a twig. Shakuntala stopped stroking the tiger’s head and looked towards him.

“Why do you ask Bharat? Am I not a good enough mother?”

“No, its just one of the students asked me. She said everybody has a father and a mother. Then she went on to tease you, so I cut her pigtails when she slept.”

“Well we’re going to apologize for that, but its not necessary for just a man and a woman to raise a child. Sometimes it can be two men and two women, or sometimes you don’t even need to be with someone. Your nanaji was born because his father just thought of him, and I was adopted by your nanaji. Neither of them was married and yet have children.” She elaborated, trying to make her son understand the complex society he would soon face.

“Well then am I either of those too?” he asked

“Uh… No. Well I suppose it is time I told you the truth.”

Shakuntala thus told her son everything about her past with Dushyant. How they met and fell in love and got married. How Dushyant left. How Durvasa cursed him to forget her, and how Shakuntala failed in negating it. Of course she left out the more angsty and depressing parts, but she tried to stay as true as possible. As her story got over, she gazed around her. The tiger seemed to have long gone, and now she could hear people shouting her name as well, perhaps still searching. Holding her son’s hand, she got up and walked with him, retracing their path to the ashram.

“Ma, did he not love us then?” he asked, his curiosity inflamed at knowing his mother’s past.

“Had he known about you he would’ve loved you very much beta.”

“Then did he not love you?” he asked again.

Shakuntala was stumped. Children had a way of making you confront your deepest insecurities through the simplest of remarks, and she wondered whether to drag him along in a storm and tell him to shut up, or marvel at his sensitivity. A question she had long stopped asking herself, perhaps because she dreaded the answer, was now propped in front of her once again. If he loved her, then that made their heartache all the worse. If he didn’t, then that made her heartbreak alone worse; that made her feel remorse. That made Kanva’s suspicions right and Durvasa’s curse meaningless, for one who doesn’t love you wouldn’t care about losing your memory.

That night, as Bharat slept, for the first time since she came back from Hastinapur, battered and having seen the cruelty of ‘civilization’, Shakuntala wept for Dushyant. She wept for the possibilities of life she could’ve had. Living with Dushyant. Spending her life with him. Them raising Bharat. Sometimes she wanted to pretend that Durvasa’s curse was just a bad dream, that Dushyant leaving her was an irrational fear and she would wake up with him beside her, his soft hair spilling around like tendrils reaching for her, his suggestive smile and his voice, thick as honey from slumber. But then she looked at Bharat and her cottage, stacked to the ceiling with books, filled with furniture that parents donated and she bought with the budget she could spare, a private prayer room with a small temple, and Bharat’s art from when he was a kid scribbled over the walls. Recently he had started repainting them in order to create a mural because “walls are too boring”. She looked at her ashram : people of learning milling about, engaging in heated debates even at this late hour. She even caught some students sneaking out, perhaps to explore on their own without adults interfering; she was going to have to re-enforce the wardings to keep the students from getting themselves killed in the forest on a whim. And yet, she found it amusing. This was truly a haven from the world, set inside the forest and protected by the stars. And Shakuntala knew she wouldn’t give up this life she had built along with those who loved and cared for her.

However, Bharat deserved the truth. He deserved to meet the man through whom he was born. And a part of Shakuntala believed that she needed to find the answer to her question as well.

#shakuntala #dushyant #my fic

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stephspurs · 3 years

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A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hey besties!! here is part 8! Part 8 see's Amelia in a change of colours, her friendship with Jorgi explored more, an awkward Chelsea player and a cheeky Villa boy. Please enjoy & send me your thoughts! Love always, Steph xx

Part 8. | parte otto

word count; 1569 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Wednesday 11/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

Landing in the rarely-sunny but always wonderful London town, Amelia was swiftly picked up from the airport by a man in a blacked out Mercedes van and driven away to her new club-appointed accommodation in the royal borough of Kensington and Chelsea. The 24 year old couldn’t help but feel a sense of home resonating through her body. Yes, Italy was also her home for the last 3 years, but there was something in the air in London that really made her believe that this is where she was meant to be.

Whilst happy that her quintessentially-British townhouse was a mere stones throw from Stamford Bridge and her family home just on the other side of the park in Holland Park she was still a 30+ minute commute, without traffic & one way, from Cobham. Beggars can’t be choosers, at least this way she was close to the hustle and bustle of London City, as well as her family and old friends.

A few days had passed since her talk with Fede, her swift departure from bella Italia saw only a small gathering occur at her apartment with some of the juventus boys on the eve before her flight. Constant check-ins from La Cosa Nostra whatsapp group chat, of course the word had spread to the rest of the Italian national team before she had even returned home from Fede’s place, meant that she was never left alone to her thoughts for too long.

Keeping the promise he had made when she phoned to tell him the news, Jorgi was knocking on her front door at 7:30am the following Monday morning, ready to drive the both of them to Cobham for Amelia’s first full day of work. He was the only person who knew she was taking this offer, other than the professional staff at Chelsea FC who had to organise her contract, so it was very much a nerve-wracking drive to the suburban training ground.

“Sapevo che stavi bene con il blu Azzurri, ma il blu Chelsea è un'altra benedizione che mi è stata conferita” (i knew you looked good in Azzurri blue, but Chelsea blue is another blessing bestowed upon me) Jorgi exclaimed as she opened the door to his car and slid in, having stopped right in front of her house in a no-park zone.

“Morning Jorgi, Thanks so much for picking me up - i’ll sort out a car this weekend i suppose”

“It's not a problem, I'm only a couple of streets away anyway so it's not out of my way.”

The pair caught up on the past couple of weeks without each other, speaking on the Fede situation and Amelia’s feelings. The best thing about Jorgi was how he was able to see both sides of the story. He valued Amelia's opinion and feelings as much as his long-time friend, Fede. He knew how hard it was for both parties to come to an amicable separation & he was making a mental note to call his italian pal to thank him for letting the girl go.

Amelia’s first day at Cobham was heavily administrative, spending a lot of time sorting out paperwork, meeting the team of staff she would be joining, getting her uniform, sorting out her office. After a quick bite to eat with the head analyst, Paolo (she just couldn’t seem to escape the Italians altogether), she collected her leather bound notebook and followed her colleague to the first team wing of Cobham. Whilst she was strictly working with the first team, she had expressed interest early on & stipulated it in her formal acceptance, that she wanted the opportunity to work with the academy players and the freedom to dip into the talent pool of Chelsea youth, to assist in perfecting her tactical plays.

She couldn’t deny that the blue of her uniform was the perfect shade to bring out the blue in her more-often-than-not grey eyes, she felt comfortable in it, she felt part of the team. Pushing open the door ahead of them, Paolo stood to the side like a true gentleman and gestured to Amelia through the door first.

______________________________________________________________

Walking in, I noticed that the scene in front of me was similar to the first time I met with some of these players. With their backs to me, facing the front, listening to every word that Tuchel was saying to them. I snuck in, stood to the side and waited for my introduction which came very shortly after.

“I want you all to meet the new tactical analyst that the club has appointed following a very successful european campaign this past summer, Amelia White” Thomas directed towards me, and just like that, a slight bit of deja-vu settled in as i watched 30+ sets of eyes turn to look at me. Some were happy to see me, some were polite and offered a small smile, and just one set looked a little shocked and very guilty.

“I trust you all will treat her with the respect that you show me, Paolo and all other members of this professional staff. We had to fight tooth and nail for this girl to join us and I can’t express how lucky we all are to be learning from her.” Tuchel dismissed his team, Jorgi pushing through the chairs to get to me.

“Amelia! What a surprise! Why didn’t you tell me about this!” Jorgi rushed over to me and wrapped me in a hug that I didn't return. Less than impressed with the boy's antics and sarcasm.

“Oh be quiet, you drove us both here today.” I spoke with a smile and rolled my eyes.

“Always the trouble maker Jorgi!” Mason Mount spoke from behind him.

“Amelia, nice to see you again! Can’t believe you didn’t tell us in the group chat!” Mason continued as he greeted me hello.

“Haha yeah, it all happened very quickly & to be honest, my decision wasn’t final until a couple of days ago. I had a few opportunities and I had to weigh up my options, Chelsea were willing to go a bit above the other clubs so it became obvious. Besides, someone once told me I would look good in the Chelsea blue” That someone also being the person who avoided my messages, and who is currently avoiding my eyes.

Later that evening.

“As if I deserved to know you picked the blues on sky sport?” Jack questioned the girl over facetime that evening, keeping their friendship tradition alive and cooking together.

“It all happened so quickly Jack, I was in talks with a few clubs and there was a bit of a tussle and negotiation stage and then I just had to pick one. Chelsea offered me the opportunity to foster the youth team talent and no one else was willing to cross-contaminate their professional staff” Amelia hurried down the phone, afraid that she hurt the brummie lad’s feelings.

“Calm down Mils, it's fine! I’m only playin wiv’ya. I’m happy for you - and me too, now I can come visit ya and have a place to stay in the city” He joked back to her. Jack had a certain way of calming the girl down, he reminded her a lot of Fede. He could read her before she came to terms with her own thoughts and feelings.

“Are you trying to tell me that you, with all of your friends and all of your money, need to rely on little old me for a place to stay in the city?” The joking tone went back to normal with the two flirtatious friends.

“No, I'm just saying that I'm happy you’re in the city. Ya know, it’s only a 2 hour drive. I could easily come down on a Friday after training and be back before a Sunday game…”

“2 hours is far too long to be in the car just to spend the day with me”

“That's where you’re wrong, it would be two nights and one whole day. Besides, 2 hours in the car is better than having to fly to get to you. I was prepared to do the latter anyway before your big move back to London” Oh did her heart swoon inside her chest, a quick blush spread across her cheeks and a little chuckle left her lips - unable to find the right words to say back to him.

Amelia knew the dangers of the situationship, this was exactly how it happened with Fede. She couldn’t help that she was naturally playful and flirtatious, she often didn't know she was doing it. Normal conversations to her often appeared like a hardcore flirt-fest to anyone who happened to be around the girl. She didn’t want to cross that line with Jack, she knew better than to do that, especially with how she hurt Fede in the end. She didn’t know where she was going to be in a few years, nor where he was going to be.

What she also recognised in the older lad that Fede also possessed, and she would be surprised if he didnt considering he is a professional football player, is that he was determined. Too determined that sometimes it was more about the chase and the challenge, rather than the aftermath or the reward. She knew Jack wouldn’t give up on her and would always be there for her. Was it bad that she enjoyed it?

Part 9. | nona parte

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princessfbi · 3 years

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#It’s the way that I can dissect this scene and the argument we don’t see but hear when Chimney leaves for hours

..... those tags tho, I’d happily read that dissection 👉🏻👈🏻

Oh man! I am more than happy to oblige.

SO... In order to talk about Buck and Maddie's fight during "Merry Ex-Mas" we have to talk about some people we don't like. Namely, Margaret Buckley and Doug Kendall.

Particularly about how Margaret essentially made Maddie into a mother figure for Buck and Doug point out to Maddie that she is in fact, his sister and not his parent.

Margaret and Philip, whether unintentionally or not, relied on Maddie to take care of Buck. They let her handle him; be his parent. A fine example is in Buck Begins after he fell off the bike. Buck calls out for his mother and she goes to him only to pull back when she sees the bike. It’s a rejection in its most complicated form. The bike, for Margaret, is a symbol of grief. But for Buck and Maddie it was a symbol of growth. Of Buck growing up and becoming a big kid. Of moving on.

Margaret allowing the bike, her grief, to be a kind of barrier to her kids essentially drew a wall between them where she was on one side and Buck and Maddie were on the other. Which can be devastatingly isolating for an about five year old. Five being old enough to realize when a cry for comfort has been ignored is also young enough to still be reliant on others. But their parents didn’t just block out Buck. They blocked out Maddie too. They left her with a kid.

So, Maddie took care of Buck. She raised him. She didn’t have a choice which doesn’t cheapen their relationship. It goes back to what I said in my Maddie character analysis. We would not have Buck without Maddie. The emotional neglect that Buck and Maddie went through could have wrecked them as people. Buck could’ve very easily been turned into a toxic masculine person with resentments that rivaled the size of Margaret’s towards her own children. But he didn’t because of Maddie. Because Maddie showed him what it was like to love and be loved in return.

Maddie saved Buck.

But Maddie was also a kid and because of that added responsibility, I don’t think Maddie had any real boundaries when it came to Buck. Anyone who had a hand in raising a sibling knows the feeling of ownership, if you will, over them. There's a very clear sense of agency you get when you had a hand in making someone into the way they are.

It's why Maddie didn't back down from Margaret when she threw out the accusation that she "didn't know what it was like" because Maddie "wasn't a mother yet." It's why Maddie from young age handed out discipline in a sense with her parents in how they spoke about Buck.

"Don't talk to him like that."

Maddie scolds her parents for the way they disrespect Buck and put him down. She calls them out on their complacency when it comes to their relationship with Buck. Maddie sees herself as a parent figure/protector/authority figure (if not the only one) in Buck's life.

Which leads me to Doug. I think Doug was the person who pointed that out. I think Doug was the person who showed Maddie that she needed live for herself just as much as she lived for Buck. I think Doug saw that lightbulb go off for Maddie and used that to manipulate her as well. Doug recognized and “respected” in his own way that Maddie’s relationship with Buck was something of great value in her life. It’s why he didn’t storm in on those nights where she was alone with Buck after he found her. It’s why he didn’t ask her questions about Buck. It’s why he didn’t demand she come home when she told him “I’m with Evan” on the phone in Buck Begins.

Doug recognized in his own way that Buck was a hard line for Maddie.

So, Doug gave Maddie boundaries for Buck and hoped that would bring her over to his side. And neither Buck or Maddie realized it because they were so used to emotional neglect/manipulation (which is a form of abuse) that they didn't even blink because in their minds', they still had each other.

By Maddie’s own admission, the only thing of value she had at the time, was her relationship with Buck and Doug knew that. So, rather than take it away, he pushed himself in between them as a way to put distance between them.

Boundaries with one another was something completely foreign to Buck because his own idea of a "boundary" was the extreme with his parents: to be shut out completely which Buck would then internalize as being his fault. So, Buck resents Doug not for giving Maddie boundaries with Buck but for not letting Buck be a part of creating those boundaries. He sees it as a way of being shut out again.

Let's take into consideration what Buck said in Buck Begins when he asked to go live with Maddie and Doug.

"It's Doug, isn't it? He hates me."

Buck recognized Doug as another wall in his life and the resentment Buck had wasn't aimed at Maddie but at Doug. He had complete faith that Maddie wasn't shutting him out because she didn't love him anymore. It was because he thought Doug never loved him to begin with. And it's at this point that I think Buck saw the similarities with Maddie in himself. After Maddie left, Buck found himself in the middle between his parents and her. Buck recognized that Maddie was now in the middle between Doug and himself. That's why he didn't confront her in the hospital about Maddie pretending everything was hunky dory. But Buck recognized, before Maddie did, that Doug was the one putting her in the middle.

"You don't have to pretend with me, all right? I know things aren't okay with Doug."

It wasn't until a new beginning, an opportunity for them to escape from their sadness that Buck finally addressed that distance and the reasoning behind it.

Let's skip back to "Merry Ex-Mas" now.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"So, you hate Christmas now. Something else I can thank Doug for, huh?"

This is something I think a lot of people who have been on the sounding board end of a loved one going through a break up where the loved one is still defending the ex can recognize. I think Buck expected a clean break because that's the way Maddie was presenting it. Because Maddie had no problems cutting off everyone else in her life such as her parents, her friends, and to an extent Buck in a very clean, compartmentalized process. So, to Buck this seemed like it should've been the same.

But it wasn't. Because Maddie's relationship with Doug was complicated and she didn't fully cut herself of from him (or at least, didn't stop making excuse for him which is an internalized form of victim blaming) until that moment in the car during "Fight or Flight".

Let's take a look though at the real meat of this argument.

"You can't come into my house, Buck, and act this way."

"'Come into my house?' I'm your brother. Typical old Maddie."

Here's the real kicker.

"Typical old Maddie."

Remember how I said that Buck doesn't resent Maddie, he resents Doug?

Here's what I think we sometimes forget because we, as the audience, view the show as a whole. We, the viewers, know the extent of the trauma Doug put Maddie through but Buck doesn't. All Buck sees is that his sister isn't acting like herself and the only reason he has for that is whatever happened with Doug. Buck doesn't know everything Doug put Maddie through because Maddie has been shielding him from it.

Remember in Buck Begins when Omar tried to get Maddie to tell Buck about what happened?

"Evan can never know."

Even with the events of Buck Begins, Buck is still learning the extent of the abuse Maddie suffered from Doug. He knew Doug beat Maddie and he knew it was pretty bad to the point that he almost killed her. But he didn't know until Chimney told him that the reason Maddie didn't leave with him was because Doug beat her brutally for picking a side; Buck's side. It's one thing to know the broad picture but an entirely different thing to know the details.

Because at some point along the way, Maddie's boundary with Buck became a protective shield for Buck. Maddie may have been in the middle between Doug and Buck but Maddie had put herself over the line in the sand beside Buck once again and neither Buck or Doug realized it.

Maddie doesn't want to explain to Buck why she doesn't want to celebrate Christmas because it's a painful truth for herself but for Buck as well. It's opening up that protective bubble and letting the risk of Buck and herself being hurt again. So, she's shutting down again which is something she'd done before to keep Buck out of that messy part of her life. Except, because Buck thinks Maddie has had this clean break from her life with Doug, he pushes her a little.

"Come on, you love Christmas."

And Maddie lashes out.

"And easy to lash out on the person that you know is always gonna forgive you."

It's a panic response, a knee jerk reaction, because she doesn't want to go through the painful process of unpacking that especially not with Buck because she was still continuing to shield him from it all. She lashed out because, subconsciously at least, she knew it would deflect him from it.

"Typical old Maddie."

And it worked.

#Maddie Buckley #Evan 'Buck' Buckley #The Buckley Siblings #TW Doug Kendall #TW Domestic Abuse #Buck Begins #Merry Ex-Mas #911 on Fox #TW Emotional Neglect #mellaithwen #ask #answered

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headoverhiddles · 3 years

Text

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage.

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.

Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust. “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

“Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

“I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

“Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together.

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love.

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact."

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now."

"King!"

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning."

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

#dr king schultz #dr king schultz x reader #king schultz #king schultz x reader #django unchained #quentin tarantino #christoph waltz #christoph waltz x reader #django #django fanfiction #tarantino fanfiction #dr schultz #reader x dr king schultz

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

The Raven Haired Rebel

Chapter 5

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which you enact your plan. Chapter Warnings: slight (fairly non-descriptive) violence A/N: Ok, this is the last chapter before the epilogue. I was a little bit on the fence about this series so I’m so thankful for the response it’s been getting. Happy reading! Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedficrecs @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163 @lokislittlesigyn @wolfish-trickster

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake @electroma89 @stardust-walker @i-would-kneel-for-loki @fredweasleyandlokiaremylife @aestheticallyholland @loki-yoursaviourishere

Masterlist

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

After your confessions, you really hoped that something would happen between the two of you. At first you worried that you’d understood him incorrectly, that he wasn’t trying to say he felt the same way. Even at the few quick rest stops, Loki seemed to not want to talk to you, and lord knows silence prevailed for most of the car ride. But when you finally finished the long drive and settled into yet another motel, Loki was quick to lead you to the bed and pull you to him.

“Get some rest, darling,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “We’ll have to leave for our interviews soon.”

“Ok, Loki,” you sighed happily, snuggling further against his chest. His arms wrapped around you even tighter. “Sleep well.”

“And you, my darling.”

You blacked out moments after, too wiped after so much driving. When you awoke hours later, Loki was still holding you. Though his eyes were closed, you could tell from his breathing that he was awake. You buried your nose in the crook of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent. You couldn’t exactly place what it was, but you’d come to associate it with him. Maybe there weren’t even actually any distinguishable smells in there. Maybe it was simply just Loki. You placed a small kiss on the soft skin of his neck, and when you pulled back, he was looking at you.

“Are you sure you are up for this?” Loki checked, concern in his eyes. “I do not want you to get hurt.”

“I’m sure. I can handle myself, I swear,” you reassured, cupping his cheek. “Besides, I’ll have you to protect me. And you’re the best sidekick in the universe, after all.”

“Oh, darling,” he chuckled. “I thought we agreed you were the sidekick. Alas, it is true; I will protect you.”

You laid together for another moment, contemplating in silence. There was still so much you wanted to say to him, but were too scared too. What about after this mission was over? Would he come back to SHIELD with you? Would you still see him at all? Or was this the end? And would you regret all the things left unsaid? You didn’t know, but you really wished you did.

Loki gave your body one final squeeze, holding you close for just a few seconds more before getting up from the bed. You watched him as he moved to grab his clothes, going into the bathroom to change. He came back out a few minutes later in a white dress shirt, green tie, and black dress slacks, the matching suit jacket draped over his arm. Your mouth hung open a little at how good he looked. He chuckled when he noticed, placing a tiny, hesitant kiss to the tip of your nose. He was also noticeably blushing, letting you know he felt just as flustered as you did.

You hadn’t really been planning on needing nice clothes when you’d packed your things, so were rifling through your bag now in hopes of throwing together an ensemble at least half as nice as Loki’s. Naturally, you were quite surprised when you pulled a rather dressy outfit from your stores. It was in Loki’s colors, so if you hadn’t already been thinking he’d conjured it for you, you certainly were now. You smiled at him, but he was pointedly avoiding looking at you, his blush still persisting.

“How do I look?” you asked, stepping out of the bathroom after changing.

Now it was his turn to have his jaw hang open a little as he finally looked at you. “Absolutely ravishing, darling,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, suddenly finding the floor very interesting as you became flustered once more. “You do too, by the way.”

“And thank you.” He walked over to you and hooked a finger under your chin, gently titling your head up to look at him. You wanted him to kiss you so badly, but you were afraid to scare him off. Besides, he turned the conversation back to the mission. “Are you prepared to alert SHIELD of our presence?”

“Yup,” you nodded. “I’ll let them know as soon as we get going.”

“Well,” he said, caressing your cheek. “Shall we?”

You nodded again. “We shall.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“See, darling? Confidence is key,” Loki said as you helped him shove the knocked out guard into a closet.

Loki had talked his way out of the situation, pretending like you’d gotten lost on your way to the interview. Then, when he got close enough, it was lights out for the guard. If there was one thing this whole ordeal taught you, it was that you needed more experience out in the field. You were a lot more comfortable behind your computer.

“Yeah, yeah,” you huffed. “Can we just get to the computer lab, please?”

Once you’d gotten a chance to download the intel to present to SHIELD, you’d make your way back out of the building, hopefully meeting up with the Avengers before they stormed the building, telling them the information you’d learned. The first few floors in either direction were set up like this were to be a functioning facility, and that the rest of it was still undergoing remodeling. Of course, the deeper you got into the base, the more heavily guarded it was.

“Shh,” Loki whispered, pulling you into a tight little alcove in the wall, your bodies hidden by shadows.

As he held you to him, out of sight from the guards passing by, you could feel both your hearts thundering. Whether it was from the mission or close proximity to each other, you weren’t sure. Once clear, you moved back out into the hallway. Only a few steps later, you could hear more people approaching.

“Listen, darling,” Loki said. “You go ahead, I’ll hold them off.”

“But... Ok. Stay safe.”

“You too.”

You scurried off to your destination, hurrying to complete your task. Pulling the hard drive from your small bag, you plugged it in, tapping away at the computer. The sooner you were back with Loki, the better you would feel. Unfortunately, that meant you were paying more attention to what you were doing than keeping your presence a secret.

“Freeze,” a guard shouted as you cursed under your breath, quickly turning around and raising your hands. You became hyper aware of the gun pointed at your chest. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

Confidence is key, you reminded yourself, gulping. “The boss sent me to do a system update. You see, I’m supposed to be here to-”

“No. Actually, they are not,” a familiar, deep voice that used to bring you so much comfort cut you off. It felt like your heart shattered in your chest as Loki appeared in the doorway, sneering, followed by two official looking guys in suits. “In fact, they are moments away from turning you into SHIELD.”

“Loki,” you said, pain obvious in your voice. You almost thought you saw the hurt mirrored in his eyes, but it was gone in moments. “What are you doing?”

“I saw an opportunity, and I took it. I suppose you were wrong about me, after all, darling.” His lips curled into a malicious grin. “See, I am quite infamous around here, and they decided they would rather have me with them than against them. Ironic, is it not, that I came for a fake interview but they already wanted to hire me, anyway?”

“And what about me?”

“You? You are insignificant in all this. Merely a sidekick.” To anyone else, it would have sounded like an insult, but you caught on to his reference to your inside joke. A signal, you thought, that he wasn’t actually switching sides. Still, you wondered if you were looking for signs that weren’t there as a dagger appeared in his hands. “And I would be more than happy to take care of you myself.”

As Loki made ready to throw his weapon of choice, he mouthed one word to you. Scream. You decided to trust him and let one rip free from your lungs. Though he’d thrown his dagger, you didn’t feel any pain. Still, when you looked down, it looked as if had pierced your flesh, and your front appeared to be stained red with a dark sickly substance that could only be blood. That was when you understood; it was an illusion. Playing along, you fell the ground, gasping for air as if you truly were bleeding out.

“Loki. Loki, please,” you whimpered. Your acting seemed to catch him off guard, true fear flashing across his features before he regained composure. “Don’t do this.”

“It is too late. It is already done.”

Just when his hand met one of the official-looking men’s in a shake, he yanked them forward, throwing them into the guard that had caught you, who was in the middle of holstering his gun. You rolled to your bag and grabbed your own weapon, the one Loki had disguised when you went through security. You aimed it at the guard's shoulder, feeling an odd mix of satisfaction, horror, and disgust as the bullet made contact and he began bleeding. Loki was quick to finish them all off, leaving them unconscious on the ground as he rushed over to you.

“Darling,” he said, gripping your arms and pulling you from your state of shock. “We have to go; someone certainly heard all that, and backup will be on the way.”

You nodded, mouth too dry to speak. You pulled the hard drive from the computer, shoving it and your gun back into your bag, settling for whatever information had already been downloaded. Hands clasped together, you and Loki dashed out into the hall, only for another group of armed guards to yell for you to halt. You tried to retreat the other way, but it was the same story at that end of the hall.

“It is alright, darling,” Loki said, giving your hand a quick squeeze. “I am going to get you out of this.”

“I know. But don’t you dare sacrifice yourself,” you half threatened, half pleaded.

“We shall see.” You both began to to raise your hands up in surrender as the guards closed in. Loki turned his head to look at you and whispered, “On my word, duck.”

But before he could give the signal, a whirring came from your right. A flash of light later, most of the guards on that side were knocked down. Loki reacted immediately, putting up a shield as the group on the left began to fire. In tandem with a few powerful blasts of Loki’s magic, your savior from before finished off the rest of your attackers.

“Long time, no see, kid,” Tony’s voice said from inside his metal suit. “You too, Reindeer Games.”

“Stark,” was all Loki said in way of greeting, rolling his eyes.

“So you guys finally got here,” you smirked with a little laugh. “About time, old man.”

“Come on, is that any way to treat your hero?” he teased.

“If you’re done exchanging quips,” Clint said, coming around the corner, aiming an arrow at Loki, “Fury wants these two upstairs. Now.”

“Relax, we are going,” Loki said, nudging you forward. He dipped his head down to whisper to you as you walked. “Well, darling, I suppose this is it, our chance to prove my innocence. Though, knowing them, I would caution you to be prepared to run.”

“Well, with that attitude,” you tsked, interlocking your fingers. “You deserve a happy ending, Loki.”

“Oh, darling,” he chuckled.

You scrunched your nose. “What?”

He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I thought you knew; with you, I already have one.”

Once escorted outside the building, you were made to wait with a few guards constantly pointing their guns at you as the rest finished their sweep of the AIM base. It was scary, yes, but they hadn’t separated you from Loki, so it was more than bearable. Leaning against the wall, he kept playing with your intertwined fingers, both of you contemplating in silence. Every once in a while, Loki would whisper a sweet nothing in your ear, placing a kiss to your cheek or temple or head, letting you know everything would be alright.

You weren’t sure exactly how much time had elapsed before Tony came to collect you. He looked upset and exasperated, a combination that wasn’t exactly comforting given the current circumstances. You hoped it was just him being tired after the fight.

“I talked to Fury,” he told you as you walked. “I vouched for you, but he never really listens to me. I don’t really know how the future’s looking. Sorry, kid.”

“That’s ok, Tony,” you smiled, speaking truthfully. “I appreciate that you tried.”

“I am grateful, too,” Loki chimed in. As his eyes locked with Tony’s, it seemed they reached some kind of understanding. “It seems I have misjudged you, Stark.”

“Right back at you, Reindeer Games.”

You came to a stop in front of Thor and Director Fury. No one spoke for a moment, but you and Loki silently communicated by squeezing the other’s hand. Your heart was pounding so wildly, you wondered if it was about to reach its limit and burst. You took a deep breath as Fury opened his mouth to speak.

“Loki. Agent. I suppose you have a good reason for being here,” he said with a laugh that sounded more wry and mirthless than amused for you.

“Yes, actually,” you braved a reply. “We figured out this was AIM’s base. You’re welcome.”

“Even so, that doesn’t authorize you to break in. What if you had been wrong?”

“On the contrary,” Loki chimed in, “they let us in to the building of their own free will. Besides, we were right. You must know that; after all, no chains this time.”

“Yeah, that didn’t seem to be working too well. You're not Earth’s problem anymore, anyway. It’s time to go back home and face the consequences of your tantrum.”

“Wait. No, please,” you jumped in before you could think about it. “What I’ve been trying to tell you is right. New York isn’t his fault.”

“Then whose is it?”

“It’s...” you trailed off, realizing you never had gotten the full story. You threw Loki a desperate, pleading look.

He sighed. “It was the mad titan, Thanos. He controlled me with the mind stone and forced me to attack, told me to collect the tesseract for him.”

“Brother,” Thor said, furrowing his brow. “That is deeply troubling for all the nine realms. Why did you not tell me?”

“Because, brother, I could not live with the shame. You certainly would not have broken under any circumstances. But now I have my darling mortal to look out for, too, so I must come clean.”

“Loki, if there is one thing I know, you are not weak. Whatever he did, it must have been truly awful. And I believe it noble of you to protect your mortal love, for that is something I certainly understand.” Loki’s face burned a little at the fact Thor had so blatantly called you the trickster’s love. “I vow to have your charges on Asgard dropped, for you were not in your right mind. Or... perhaps not your mind at all. I am sorry, brother, for not being able to see so sooner.”

“You are forgiven, brother. And I too apologize for any wrong I may have done you and for not coming clean. I truly do not want any harm to come to this realm.”

“I believe you, brother. And can I trust his charges here on Midgard will be dropped too?” Thor asked, turning to Fury.

He mulled it over for a minute. “If we set some ground rules, I believe something can be worked out. I’m afraid that doesn’t excuse your actions, agent.”

You tried to come to your own defense, but Loki did it before you could. “Wait. They only wished to help me because they believed it was right. Certainly you cannot fault them for that. And, really, when you think of it, they have done a great service, whatever their methods. Stopping AIM, bringing me in, getting me to confess; truly impressive, you must admit.”

“See, that’s exactly my point,” Tony joined the conversation. “The kid did good.”

“Listen,” you said, finally getting a word in. “I understand that running off and doing this myself wasn’t the best decision ever, but no one was listening to me. And it’s like they said, you can’t argue with results. So please take that into account and, you know, maybe don’t lock me up?”

“You’re a hell of an agent,” Fury said. “So I will let it slide this time and drop the charges for you too. But on account of a series of stupid-ass decisions, I still have to fire you.”

“Thank you,” you nodded. “I understand.”

You shared a happy glance of victory with Loki. True, you’d always had hope for a happy ending floating around in your mind, but things had seemed pretty bleak there for a minute.

Fury pointed at you and Loki. “You two, off the property now. This is government business.”

“So long for now, kid,” Tony said as Loki and Thor shared a nod before parting.

Together, you and the raven haired God of Mischief walked toward your car. It seemed neither of you were exactly sure what to say. After all, you hadn’t really talked about what would come after all this.

“So what are you going to do next?” you finally asked, stopping in front of the vehicle’s door.

“Well, I do not think Asgard was ever really the place for me,” he replied as if he really had to think of it. You could tell he already knew, though. “Perhaps I can find somewhere to settle here on Midgard.”

“You know,” you replied, unable to control your grin, “it just so happens my apartment has room for two.”

“Then by all means,” he smiled, cupping your cheek. “Lead the way.”

Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him forward, meeting in a kiss. He responded immediately, once again communicating without speaking. You still didn’t know exactly why you had been drawn to him, but you would be forever grateful you’d listened to your gut. Because if there was one thing you had no doubt of, you were meant to be with Loki. And anyway, you were right; he was innocent. Well, mainly. The only crime this rebel was guilty of was stealing your heart. And now it was his to keep, always and forever.

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steve0discusses · 3 years

Text

Yugioh Season Zero: The Yo-Yo Crimes of Jounouchi Pt 1

It’s been a while since I visited the many times Yugi should have gone to jail, AKA season Zero, and I’m excited to visit it again.

If you just got here, this is Season Zero, which is very different vibe and a different direction plotwise than the other seasons and you can read the season zero recaps from the start in chrono order here: https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yuugi%20muto/chrono

So be warned, this is a 90′s anime, and it will do 90′s anime things, and I expect y’all reading this aren’t like 12.

Like I said in an earlier post, I wrote this out fully when I was going through the symptoms from my second dose--which PS, is worth it--but those symptoms knocked me out for 10 days. I was kind of a space cadet, and yo, I made some mistakes. Including writing this post out in full and then not clicking “save” on this post and then not realizing I had done that until several days later.

So long story short, I don’t remember what I originally wrote here, but lets all assume it was weird, and didn’t make sense and wasn’t funny. We’ll just assume this was for the best that it was deleted forever.

So this episode is about 2 things: Yo-yos and Jounouchi. Both get used as a tool for violence, and both need to get just a little bit cursed by Yugi to scale it the hell back. So, understandably, we start off this episode with Jounouchi, who has eagerly identified with this off brand yo-yo he apparently got out of a dumpster for being just a huge ass defect.

(more Yo-Yo crimes under the cut)

I see you dodging copyright infringement, Yugioh. Eireboy.

Also whenever I read “Eireboy” I do it in my mind in the same pacing and vocal tones that Pegasus uses to say “Kaiba boy.” Something about it’s conjunction to Yugioh, I see anything with “boy” at the end of it, and it’s voiced by a weird guy with one eye.

So I wrote these caps under the influence of my second dose, just assuming y’all understand the life I lived, but I realized writing this episode...traveling bands of yo-yo performers that go to your school and shill yo-yos with yo-yo shows in the hopes that it will get you so obsessed with yo-yos that you will not join a gang and do drugs and have sex may be just an American thing.

So when I saw a yo-yo episode I was like “Tight! Clearly, the yo-yo clowns have come to town!” and I assumed everyone in this class would be draped in yo-yos, because I just assumed that at some point at School you will get MAD OBSESSED with yo-yos for about 2 weeks.

But in this episode, everyone was like “Jounouchi, why are you playing with a random yo-yo?” and it didn’t occur to me until typing this out just now: only Jounouchi is doing this. He did this unprompted, without the encouragement of a bunch of middle aged performers doing tricks to techno music.

So instead, I have to think of Jounouchi as Ralphie in this scenario, and he just got a official Red Ryder, carbine action, 200-shot, range model air rifle, with a compass in the stock and this thing that tells time for Christmas, but he’s gonna shoot his eye out.

Because yo-yos in this episode are basically guns.

...Kind of like a duel deck was also just a gun...

...or the wands in Harry Potter...

...which honestly...I’ve probably said this before but where I’m from, we just use straight up guns in these elaborate analogies because we freakin have to make the point crystal clear. The moment Ralphie finally got his hands on a bb-gun, he very nearly shot his eye out and broke his glasses. And that scene will haunt me until my dying day...

...but fine, we can use yo-yos, I guess it works, although to me, yo-yo’s are just teachers hoping you’ll become such a dork that no gang will accept you (and then in this universe, it does the opposite? So freakin weird).

The beginning of this episode is Jounouchi trying do his best to impress with his skills, but in actuality, getting very close to clubbing Anzu with a yo-yo. And, while Anzu is the strongest person in Yugioh in the later seasons, I feel like Season Zero Anzu is another level. It’s a serious tempt of fate that Jounouchi is doing, so Honda wisely cuts him off from doing any more of that so she won’t end up strangling yet another person in broad daylight in the middle of school.

Remember your yo-yo safety, children.

Straight up, Honda’s version of yo-yo safety is to just Never Use a Yo-Yo and that’s the most gun safety thing ever that they’ve slipped into this Yugioh Episode. I almost expected Yuugi to pull a “well, actually, I use a hunting yo-yo to get enough venison to feed my family.” But youknow, he lives in a city, so while Yugioh is pretty weird and Yuugi has to worry about a lot of things--he doesn’t have to worry about that.

This is actually foreshadowing, which I only realized in hind sight, mostly because I just can’t associate a Yo-yo with crime. Joey knowing how to use a yo-yo was foreshadowing that he was absolutely part of this gang in a past life.

Yeah that one went completely over my head the first time and the second time and it really wasn’t until just now that I finally caught it. Hoo boy, sometimes I wonder why y’all let me analyze this show.

Jounouchi decides to confront the yo-yo bandits and everyone else is like “Silly Jounouchi, he’s not gonna do that. That would be stupid.” And...in S0, they don’t know him well enough yet to know that he really is that much of a well meaning dumbass.

I think a S1-5 Yugi would have been sprinting out the door to keep Joey from killing himself (again), but Season Zero Yuugi had hope that Jounouchi would just naturally tucker out and fall asleep or something.

And he was so wrong.

Anzu’s “New Tricks” line was from the dub itself and man that’s a good line. I love Anzu’s sass in Zero.

So, Honda decides to help them find Jounouchi so all of them together could give Jounouchi an intervention for skipping school. This is the same Honda that once skipped school to babysit a tomagachi and said it was because of “Maternity leave,” but don’t worry about the hypocrisy, because from this episode we learned that Jounouchi needs a very short leash.

So this episode is a great Jounouchi episode to explain stuff that still hasn’t been explained in 5 seasons of Yugioh. In S1-5, we don’t get much about his home life other than his Mom left and his Sister lives far away and is like sickly as hell. We know nothing else. But this is the episode where we finally get to find out why Yuugi and his Grandfather decided to basically adopt him from S1 onward.

Yugioh is tackling some pretty heavy territory, but I respect the show for not trying to magically change Jounouchi’s parents like they did to Dartz. Instead, the crew decide to reach out and try to find their friend who clearly didn’t go home last night (and won’t be going back for a while), by checking every alleyway in Domino.

Fun fact Yuugi drops this episode, Domino is one of the biggest cities on Earth. This makes the Battle City Tournament even more crazy when you realize Kaiba shut down several blocks but, it also makes a tiny bit more sense how we have so many Millennium items in one place. (Yet...it still doesn’t explain Bakura and Joey’s accent.) And, I guess if your city is just extra large, you get an extra large warehouse district, too.

Speaking of, they eventually find Jounouchi at his new (but also old) crime antics mugging some random stranger next to this Game store that I just realized was cropped so it looks like it says “GANG.”

Say hello to our crime clown. He’s sort of like a discount joker, and that beanie is...man it is green.

I forget this green exists sometimes, but Season Zero has it as one of their prime colors. Good ol’ Retro Kaiba green.

I’m a little tempted to swatch Season Zero a bit and figure out their full color scheme--it’s really saturated, which is interesting when you compare it to the later seasons which are a lot more muted since...the 00′s were like that, they greyed a lot of colors out. But I’ll do it later if I do, maybe another post for another day.

Jounouchi and Honda, before they moved to the school with Yuugi in it, used to go to the same school and up until now I just assumed they were close friends. But apparently they were a lot more distant than that. I’m sure they met up several times as Jounouchi destroyed stuff and Honda came along in his volunteer janitor outfit to put the stuff the hell back, and maybe that’s how they got to know eachother better?

But basically, Jounouchi was the freakin worst, and Jounouchi’s best friend was Hirotani--this 45 year old 15 year old with the blue pony and turquoise fade--and Honda has SO MUCH hot goss to say about it.

I really get the gist that Honda may not have liked anyone else at his old school, like at all. Like maybe Honda likes cleaning up trash so much because his school was just trash top to bottom.

As is tradition, Yuugi got his tar beat in by Hirotani. Another concussion to add to his list of issues to tell his future therapist that lives in that puzzle he wears around his neck.

I still expect him to do a double cross, but it seems they wanted to keep it a relatable and more realistic fall-out, where Jounouchi has just bounced on them without even a goodbye. He and his Dad had a bad fight, and Jounouchi was like “well so long to all of this and everyone that has anything to do with it.”

In later seasons, Joey is the one trying to save other people. He’s saving his Sister, he’s saving Mai, he’s saving Yugi, but in this season Jounouchi’s friends had to save Jounouchi from himself a few times now.

I like this depth to his character, I’ll be honest. I can understand why S1-5 don’t touch on it, and I don’t think it’s because they didn’t want to have an abusive Dad storyline, because they did that several times over with Seto Kaiba (man the Dad situation in Yugioh is DIRE.) Instead they probably just felt like Season Zero already did it, so why do it again?

It’s just a shame that it wasn’t talked about in the other seasons. Joey makes a lot more sense to me now because we get to see why Jounouchi is so hard set on saving people. S4 Mai Valentine, who ditched everyone and joined a gang? That’s basically a Joey move, and that was why Joey Wheeler was all over that.

Really would have added a lot to that particular arc if the show...actually talked about Joey’s history at all rather than assume I would have watched something that was never released in the States. Instead...it just looked a lot like he had only romantic motivations, which may not have been what they were going for.

Speaking of romantic, check out this sunset. Like the sun is exploding for some reason--just a wild sunset you only see for a still frame before a commercial break.

As Joey, youknow, takes on an entire rival gang single-handedly.

Hey guys, I lived near a pretty big city most of my life and I have been on a roof...once. Just the one time when I was doing an internship in SF with a painter and we needed to take a reference photo of his painting for a gallery (and it was hella sketch, and we weren’t exactly allowed up there). Who are all these people giving teens Roof Access? It’s so hard to get! Even if you live in an apartment of a tall building, I can count on zero of my fingers the amount of times I was allowed on that roof. But TV shows and movies--they freakin love roof gardens and roof hangouts and roof fights.

Am I missing out?? How did y’all get on the ROOF? I know I’m on S5 of Yugioh now and I have seen a lot of roof stuff, but like...is this normal for everyone else? I know there’s schools that have roof sport--that’s common in the city everywhere--but that’s like...specialized roofs with 30 ft chainlink fencing and really good supports to your body doesn’t fall straight through it when you jump too much. The hell is using their normal ass roof?

This gang should have their legs swinging halfway into the floor below them, is all I’m saying, if my roof couldn’t handle our solar heating, then a normal ass roof cannot support a gang fight.

But it does look really, really cool.

Anyway, Anzu does some offscreen snooping and finds out where the crime hangs out, and suggests that we step right into crime zone and just yank Jounouchi out of there. Which is something you would only do and say if you were Anzu and cannot fear death.

If it were Jay’s it would be with an ‘s. That’s how you do a plural Jay. But it’s the 90′s, so we put a “z” on the end of everything that should have been an “s” and that’s how you get the...

I mean, thank you, dubbers, for not saying “Jizz” but for reals...that be Jizz.

Please don’t flag me, Tumblr. (which, PS, I think they turned off the flagbot, Tumblr hasn’t flagged me in forever and I’m so thankful. Mods are asleep, we can talk about anime again)

So even though Honda decided that he was fed up with Jounouchi and didn’t want to save his ass, he decided to give it another go but complete with some new sash. He also did this without telling any of the others, who just kinda spectated him for a little while.

Honestly, if they weren’t laughing at him, I wouldn’t have known that this sash was any weirder than any of his other sashes. I don’t know really know what a school uniform should look like. It’s a shame, I feel like this series has a lot of jokes and puns probably soaring right over my head.

A little bit embarrased he was caught being vulnerable, Honda decides to give us a little more context to why he ever decided to give Jounouchi the time of day in the first place.

They had PE class once, and Honda apparently loves the hell out of PE. Jounouchi ran really fast in a straight line that one time, and that is why he’s trustworthy friend material. He just needs to stop joining gangs, and he’ll be solid.

I have no idea if the fandub put that in there or if that was native to the show, but Miho legit stans Honda/Jounouchi and acts as if she’s off to write some fanfiction about it. Honestly if she did, it would make her so much more interesting of a character.

And so, until next time, we shall have to wait and see exactly what Yami Yuugi is going to do with a freakin Yo-yo and I’m sure it’s all sorts of real effed up. Excited to get there, honestly. A shame it had to happen on the part that isn’t dubbed yet, but I’ve done these subbed before, it’ll be fine!

#Season Zero #Yuugi Muto #Jounouchi #Honda #Anzu #yo-yo #Jounouchi joins a gang #Gotta go save Jounouchi's ass I guess #Miho #she was here too I guess #Just a great Jounouchi episode for the Jounouchi stans out there

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daveeddiggsit · 4 years

Text

The Plan

WIDEOUT MASTERLIST

Series: WIDEOUT (chpt viii)

Note: Thank you @braidedchallah for proofreading. Reminder — before you kill me — there is one chapter left (and an epilogue). Keep that in mind. Enjoy. Feel free to yell at me afterwards. If you’re reading this, I’m sorry for what you’re about to experience.

Word Count: 12.2k

Pairing: Football Player!Thomas Jefferson x Tutor!Reader

Warnings: angst. possible breakup. perhaps some crying. implied sex (more than once). thom being a perfect boyfriend. thom looking fine af in denim (i’m trash).

Summary: Goodbyes are hard.

Tags: @coololdsoulpoetlove @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @lilangeldevil006 @pana-ce-a @merrahonthawall @katierpblogg @thespianbooks @a-hopeless-fan @uniquelystarchildthedragon @wcreech @sabbrriiinnaa @imperial-martian @harpersmariano @icanneverbesatisfied @underthewillowtreerycb @i-know-i-can @astralaffairs @braidedchallah (if i forgot anyone i apologize, just lemme know for next time)

As one of the smartest kids in your graduating class, you have a certain reputation to uphold. Maintaining a perfect 4.0 GPA isn’t easy, which means that you have to choose all the right answers and make all the right decisions.

As it turns out, you seem to be pretty good at that. Being right about a lot of things, academic or not, seems to come naturally to you. Especially when it comes to a certain curly-haired athlete who also happens to be your boyfriend of over a year.

You had been right when you told him that he would recover from his ankle injury on the night it happened. Well, you can’t be entirely sure of that yet since he’s still not clear to engage in full-action sports, but it’s incredibly clear that he’s well on his way to recovering fully.

Almost exactly seven weeks after the incident, he’d gotten his cast removed and replaced with a boot so that he could put weight on his ankle again. Since then, he’s been in physical therapy almost daily in order to make sure that he’s healing the right way. According to him, he’s progressing well every week and is slowly regaining his mobility, strength, and speed. Just two weeks ago he ditched the boot so that he could finally put on a pair of shoes; you remember the grin on his face when he gave you a little dance to show off the new kicks he’d gotten as celebration.

He’s not 100% healthy yet, and he certainly won’t be back on the field (or track) for another couple months until he’s clear to practice, but you’re proud that he’s been able to recover as much as he has in relatively so little time.

On the night of his injury, you’d also been right about another thing: the fact that Thomas would receive college offers.

And that’s what you’re celebrating today.

After weeks and weeks of advocating for himself and sending his player reel and personal letters to the head coaches of schools he wanted to attend, he finally got an offer from one of his top college choices: the University of Virginia.

While their football team isn’t the most notable in the nation, their program is one of the best in the state of Virginia at a Division I level, and that’s pretty much all Thomas wants. After he recovers fully, Thomas will make an excellent asset to the team since one of their starting wide receivers is entering the NFL Draft after this year.

At UVA, Thomas would get the play time he needs to shine and show his true colors and talent as a wide receiver all while having a coaching staff there to support him and his every need. Their academic program for liberal arts is also something Thomas has been looking at in a school since he plans on majoring in English.

With all of that said, the Jefferson household decides to host a special dinner for their son in celebration of the wonderful news.

And while under normal circumstances, you would feel happy and excited for your boyfriend and his amazing accomplishment, instead you have a voice that lingers in the back of your mind reminding you of the similar news you had received just a week prior.

Thomas isn’t the only one with a huge scholarship offer.

After applying to many different schools with somewhat notable engineering programs in-state (because let’s be real, out-of-state tuition is absurdly expensive), you’ve received only a few grants from NYU and Syracuse University, but it isn’t enough to cover all of tuition.

But when you’d received an email last week from the one out-of-state school you had applied to last minute, your heart had just about dropped from your chest.

UCLA is offering you a full-ride.

You should be happy that you have an incredible offer. You should be elated for Thomas with his scholarship offer, too. However, you can’t help but feel a looming sense of stress every time you think about telling him.

That’s why you haven’t told him yet; it’s been nine days.

“Y/N?”

Thomas’ voice snaps you out of your thoughts and suddenly you are brought back to reality. You’re dressed up and sitting at the dinner table with Thomas across from his parents. The menu of the night consists of a couple different French dishes that his mother had learned to make a few years back when they visited Paris for an entire summer. His mother’s rendition of the food is nothing short of amazing.

Your eyes meet the warm brown ones that belong to your boyfriend as you turn your head to glance at him next to you. “Hmm?”

”You didn’t hear anythin’ I said, did you?” Thomas chuckles, biting his lip as he watches you put on a guilty simper.

“No, sorry.” You breathe out a small laugh in order to cover up your underlying nervousness. “I zoned out for a minute there. What were you saying?”

“Well, I’m arguin’ a case here. Technically, a hot dog — a piece of meat held together by two pieces of bread - is a sandwich, right? In simple terms and by definition this should be true, so don’t overthink it. My dad keeps saying it’s not, but please, Y/N, you gotta side with me this time.”

You take a breath in and click your tongue. “I don’t know, Peter, I think I gotta go with Thom on this one.”

“Yes!” Thomas celebrates, throwing his arms up dramatically. “I told you!”

Mr. Jefferson’s mouth drops at your response. “How dare you take his side. Did all those other times teaming up at dinner and making fun of him mean nothing to you?”

If it hadn’t been evident prior to this moment where Thomas gets his overdramatics from, then it’s certainly clear now.

“Case closed.” Thomas smirks, crossing his arms, proud of himself.

“What are you talking about? The case is far from closed.” His father retorts, splaying his arms out, causing Thomas’ mom to speak out.

“Hey, calm down, you two. You’re gonna make a mess if you keep on bangin’ the table like that.” She chastises them. They both mutter their apologies before Thomas’ father continues on defending himself.

“Y/N, why’d you choose his side? You know I’m right. Don’t let that boy guilt trip you; he’s still gonna love you if you disagree with him.”

“Sorry, Peter.” You shrug, sneaking a glance at Thomas who’s watching you with a glint in his eyes. “As much as I don’t want to agree with your son on this one, I unfortunately do.”

Thomas pauses to narrow his eyes as you in puzzled manor. “‘Unfortunately?’ Your words wound me, sweetheart, really.” He says in a teasing tone before his smile turns smug as he directs his attention towards his father. “But you see, Dad? It’s 2 against 1. ‘M sorry to say, but your opinion is overruled.”

Mr. Jefferson waves his son off dismissively. “That’s horseshit; your mother hasn’t sided with anyone yet. We still have one more vote to count.”

“Language, Peter.” The woman in question warns, giving him a look that’s only half serious.

“Well, honey? You agree with me, don’t you?” Peter asks his wife with pleading eyes, causing her to roll hers.

“Sure, sweetie.”

You shake your head and smile, leaning back in your chair to watch the antics unfold.

“What? Ma, why you takin’ his side?” Thomas jumps in. “I’m supposed to be your favorite, you know.”

“Of course you’re my favorite; you’re my only child, Thomas.” His mother deadpans, causing Thomas to frown.

It’s Peter’s turn now to smirk at Thomas and you. “See? Now we’re tied. Opinion very much not overruled, thank you.”

“Wait, what was your side of the argument again?” Mrs. Jefferson asks her husband. “You said a hot dog is a sandwich, right?”

“No, that’s what I said.” Thomas interjects.

“Oh, well then I agree with Thomas.”

“Ha!” Your boyfriend exclaims, pointing at his dad. “I told you! Your opinion is not valid. Hot dogs are sandwiches. End of story.”

“They are not sandwiches! They are a different entity. How can you compare a ham and cheese to a weiner between two buns? Well I’ll tell you. You can’t!”

“For the last time, Dad. It’s a piece of meat in between two pieces of bread. That is classified as what? A sandwich!”

“With that logic, you’d say that a burger is a sandwich, too?”

“Yup.”

“There is somethin’ wrong with y’all.” Peter shakes his head, picking at the leftover food on his plate. “I thought I raised you better, T. Y/N, I expected you to take my side on this one.”

“Sorry, Mr. J.” You shrug. “Tommy’s right. A piece of meat in between two pieces of bread does indeed technically classify it as a sandwich.”

“Y’all got me thinkin’ that I’m the crazy one now.” Peter sighs defeatedly.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough of that nonsense.” Thomas’ mother chuckles, waving her hand in the air dismissively. “Thomas, honey, your father and I are very proud of you and are excited for your opportunity at UVA.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Thomas grins. “I’m excited, too.”

Under the table, Thomas’ hand finds yours and laces your fingers together. Its warmth is comforting and the small moment makes you forget about everything for just a moment. A small silence stretches on for a bit before Peter speaks up.

“So, Y/N, how are your college applications going? Have you gotten any scholarships yet? I feel like you’re too smart to not get anything.”

Your stomach drops at the question. You really hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like this, and while it is a simple question that you should be able to answer quickly… you don’t. You hesitate and Thomas notices.

You want to tell the truth, you really do, but you can’t. This is Thomas’ night to celebrate and the last thing you want to do is mess it up with news that you’d be going to school across the country. Tonight is supposed to be about him, not you.

So you lie.

“Oh, um, no, not yet.” You chuckle nervously. The hand holding Thomas’ fidgets slightly and he squeezes lightly to try and help calm your nerves. “I mean, I’ve gotten into NYU and Syracuse so far. Still waiting to hear from Columbia. I haven’t heard much as far as scholarships, though, unfortunately. I’ve received a few grants here and there, but nothing too big.”

“Columbia, wow. What’s their acceptance rate? 10%?” Mrs. Jefferson asks, seemingly interested.

“6%.” Thomas jumps in to answer before glancing at you with a small smile. “I don’t think Y/N will have any trouble getting in, though.”

You send him the biggest smile you can muster, though you feel like it sort of comes out as a grimace. “Thanks, T.” You say softly.

Beat.

“What time is it? I think it’s past my bedtime.” Peter yawns, checking his watch. “10 o’clock? Where did the time go? Y/N, are you going to be okay driving home this late?”

“It’s not that late, Mr. Jefferson. I should be fine.” You’ve definitely driven home from Thomas’ place past 10pm before (multiple times), but you’re not telling him that. “I do think I should probably leave soon, though.”

“You wanna go get your things upstairs, then I can walk you out?” Thomas asks you with a mischievous look in his eye. Knowing him, he probably just wants to get you alone for a bit before you leave. Even through your nervousness to tell him the truth, you can’t deny his charm.

“Yeah, that sounds good, Tommy.”

Then, both you and Thomas excuse yourselves from the table. You make sure to thank Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson for dinner and the invite. You’re always honored to be included in their family events even if it’s something as small as dinner on a Friday night.

When you make it up to Thomas’ room, he doesn’t waste another moment before he kisses you softly, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek after he gently shuts the door.

“Been waitin’ to do that all night.” He grins afterwards, softly brushing over the skin of your cheek with his thumb.

You smile as you bring your hands up to his shoulders, wordlessly leaning forward to sweetly press your lips to his again.

“Missed you.” He mumbles as he pulls away to lean his forehead against yours. “Feel like we haven’t been seeing a lot of each other lately.”

He’s right. With both of you not having any classes together this year, you both worried about college applications, Thomas not in football season anymore and in and out of PT almost constantly, you two haven’t been seeing each other as much as you’d like. Another reason why you haven’t been able to tell Thomas about UCLA (aside from the fact that you simply don’t have the guts to do it).

“I know.” You sigh, looking off to the side for a second. “I’m sorry.”

“‘S not your fault. We’ve both been busy.”

“Yeah, but still.” You say softly. “Feels bad. I miss you.”

He chuckles. “Well, I’m right here, baby. Don’t need to go far.”

You smile haphazardly and roll your eyes as you bring your hand up to the back of his neck and pull him into another kiss. Who knows how many more of these you’ll get before you both graduate and have to go your separate ways.

Before it can go too far, you pull away again.

“T?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m so proud of you.” You say genuinely because you really want him to know. You feel like you don’t tell him enough (even though that’s not the case). “Really, I am. You deserve that scholarship and so much more.”

“Thanks, love.” He murmurs while a soft smile adorns his face. “Hey, if none of these in-state schools give you anything, I think you’d have a good chance at getting something at UVA. They have an honors college that gives up a ton of grants and shit, you should look into it. I’m not sure if the applications are still open, but worth a try.”

You purse your lips before you give him your response. “Maybe, we’ll see.”

“I’m sure you’ll get something anyway, but just wanted to bring that up and let you know.”

“Appreciate the thought, Thom.”

Thomas grins, giving you one last peck on the lips before finally turning away to remove his overcoat. He double takes when he sees your face drop slightly. His eyebrows furrow as he notices your mood shift. “Hey, what’s wrong? Somethin’ botherin’ you? Not gonna lie, you’ve been a little off all night, sweetheart...”

You hesitate, not able to look him in the eye, the guilt eating you alive. The pressure of holding everything in is building up and while Thomas is normally your rock, the one you can go to for anything, you can’t this time, and you can feel it wearing you down.

You take in a shaky deep breath before you go to sit down on his bed, eyes cast towards the ground. “I’m okay, T, I’m just… stressed. With school.” You say, finally willing yourself to look up into his caring gaze. It hurts to lie to him, but you keep telling yourself that it’s his night.

“You sure?” He asks, taking a seat next to you to gently grab your hand in his. “Seriously, baby, I know when somethin’s up. What’s on that brilliant mind of yours, huh?” He lightly bumps his shoulder against yours in a teasing gesture, causing you to let out a half-hearted chuckle. He always knows how to get a laugh out of you, doesn’t he? “I know you’re worried about more than that stats test you have next week. Tell me what’s really botherin’ you.” He says softly, catching your gaze again.

Sighing once more, you tear your eyes away from his pleading ones. “I um…” You trail off after trying and failing to come up with another lie or excuse.

Thomas always draws your worries and frustrations out of you; he knows you so well to the point where he knows exactly what to say to convince you to tell him something. Honesty has never been a problem in your relationship, and the last thing you want is to push it to a point of no return. You already feel terrible for withholding the truth; you want to be free from this secret you’ve been holding.

And suddenly seven words echo in your head:

“Tell him. He’ll understand. He loves you.”

Your eyes flit back up to meet his concerned gaze. Here it goes.

“I did get a scholarship. All tuition and expenses paid. I got the email a week and a half ago and I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

His eyes widen at the confession, taken aback by how big the news is.

“Holy shit, Y/N, that’s… that’s amazing, baby. I’m so proud of you. Not surprised, but proud nonetheless.” He says genuinely, a smile evident on his face before it drops slightly. “Why didn’t you wanna tell me?” There’s a moment of silence before he speaks again. “Wait, why’d you lie at dinner when my dad asked?”

You give him a sad smile before you look away again, fidgeting with your fingers on the hand that Thomas isn’t holding. “I didn’t want to take over your night, T. And I didn’t tell you when I found out because… the school’s in Cali.” You say, releasing a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

He cocks his head to the side slightly, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you only applied to schools in-state.”

You shake your head, pursing your lips before you respond. “That’s what I had planned originally, but my advisor pushed me to apply for this scholarship program at UCLA and… well, I got in.”

Thomas goes silent for a few moments as he looks off to the side, breathing deeply. It’s hard to tell what he’s feeling. Then, he lets out a low whistle. “Full-ride to UCLA, huh?” He says softly before he turns to look at you.

“Thomas…” You start, your voice soft and full of worry, but he continues to talk.

“Are you going to accept it?” He asks and you nod slowly.

Ideally, you have no other real choice; by going to UCLA you’d graduate with zero debt. And with UCLA’s engineering program and opportunities that other schools can’t fulfill, it fills all the boxes you want in a university.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. Really. I’m glad they recognize how amazing you are.” The tone in Thomas’ voice is fond and he’s absolutely sure of the words he’s saying. “It’s far away, I know, but we can make it work.”

The emotions in his eyes are conflicting, but they still hold unrelenting love and support in them. When you hesitate to respond, his eyes search yours, trying to find some sort of answer in them, but before he can decipher anything, you tear your gaze from his.

“Right?” He asks as his grip on your palm loosens until your hand falls back into your lap, the warmth from Thomas’ fingers completely vanished. “Baby, talk to me. Please.”

“Thom, I… I want to think that but I’m not sure.” You admit quietly, and having said that, you can see something in Thomas’ composure crumble.

He shakes his head. “Nah, don’t you say that. We can make this work, Y/N.” His voice wavers slightly as he stands up and runs a hand over his curls, smoothing them back and away from his face. “I haven’t accepted the offer at UVA. I can decline and apply to UCLA—”

“T, I’m not going to ask you to do that—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“You don’t have to ask me, love. I’m willing to do this all on my own. Like I said, we can make this work. I’ll improvise. My parents can afford it, then I can just join the football team as a walk-on. I’m confident I’ll make it. Since they didn’t give me an offer I’ll prove them wrong and be the best damn walk-on they ever had.”

“Thomas, don’t—”

“I can also have my dad send the head coach a letter. I didn’t wanna pull that for any other schools because I wanted to earn all my offers — and because of the whole nepotism thing — but I’ll make an exception for—”

“Thomas, please!” You raise your voice and when he finally stops, you immediately regret it. You’ve never raised your voice like that with him before and doing so right now feels terrible.

“Please, T, just stop. I don’t want you to do any of that for me. How long have you been waiting for UVA to give you a chance? How many letters have you personally written to Coach Michaels, begging him to consider you for one of their open receiver positions?”

Thomas is silent as you speak, knowing full well that you have a point. You continue.

“You’ve been set on UVA as your top school for a couple months now. Don’t forget how hyped you were when you finally got the offer this morning. And now you want to just throw that away? No. I’m sorry, Thom, but I am not going to be the one to take it away from you.”

“You’re not.” He says earnestly. “Taking it away from me, I mean. I want to do this for you. For us. UCLA has a good football program, too, all I have to do is pull some strings if you’ll let me.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay, well I’m not letting you do that. Thomas, it’s not as easy as you’re making it seem. Think about this, okay? Think about yourself and your football career and all the opportunities that you’ll have for yourself down in Virginia. Don’t let me get in the way of that! I don’t want each of us to be an obstacle in each other’s successes.”

Thomas gives you an incredulous look and stills himself. “Are you serious? Is that what you consider our relationship? An obstacle?”

You look away, sighing. “No, T, I… I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t know that.” He looks at you with a distressed gaze, all traces of comfort and playfulness gone and replaced with hurt… caused by you — something you never would have thought you’d see in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t wanna talk about this right now. Today’s supposed to be your day.”

“Let me get one thing straight, Y/N. Our relationship is not an obstacle… it never has been and it never will be.” Thomas says coldly and you cringe when he calls you by your full name in a tone that’s less than friendly.

“I just don’t want our love for each other to get in the way of…” You trail off, but decide against speaking mid-sentence. “You know what, nevermind.”

“Get in the way of what?”

“Thomas,” you start, making eye contact with him once again. “I don’t want to get in the way of your football career. It’s unfair; I can’t do that to you, T. You deserve to make the most of your career in college so that you can make it to the NFL. That’s your dream, right? To play in the NFL for the New York Giants like your father did. Am I right?”

His jaw clenches slightly as he nods, and you continue.

“The coach at UVA believes in you — even through your injury. Why are you going to throw that away? In order to be with your high school girlfriend? Do you see how childish that sounds?” A beat of silence passes before you continue in a softer tone.

“I just… I don’t want you to do that, Thomas, it’s too big of a risk. You have a solid spot at UVA to prove yourself on the field. If you drop that for a walk-on position at UCLA, it’ll be a mistake. Instead of proving yourself to NFL recruiters, you’ll be set on proving yourself to college coaches just to get a chance on the field. I want you to have the best chances at making it to the NFL.” Now it’s your turn to stand up. You pace away from him as you continue to speak.

“Let’s say you do follow me to UCLA and join the football program. What if… what if something happens while we’re in college and we’re not together anymore? What will happen? You’d have potentially messed up your career for me and I don’t want that to happen, T. I’m sorry but I won’t let that happen.”

Thomas holds a hand up to stop you from your ramblings. He speaks his next words slowly. “Wait, wait, hold on now. You think we’re going to break up in college?”

You roll your eyes in frustration, crossing your arms defensively. “That’s not what I said—”

“No, no that’s exactly what you said.” He responds coldly, narrowing his eyes at you. “I’m starting to question our intentions in this relationship, Y/N. Did you ever plan on us being long term?”

“See, this is why I didn’t wanna tell you. I didn’t want this to happen.” You say, annoyed that it’s gotten to this point of you two having an argument.

“You just gonna ignore my question?”

“Before applying to schools, T, I wasn’t even thinking about the future. I was taking things day by day. We were both pent up in our little perfect world, but right now we need to face reality.”

“Okay, so then why’d you keep this a secret from me? Were you plannin’ on keepin’ this to yourself until graduation? I don’t know if you knew this, sweetheart, but a relationship is a two-way street and involves a little somethin’ called communication.” His snarky tone fills the room and has you rolling your eyes again. “Girlfriends aren’t supposed to lie to their boyfriends and then get mad at him for reacting a certain way when she finally decides to tell him huge news.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” You say, breathing out another sigh and softening up at his last sentence. He’s right; you shouldn’t have kept it a secret. “I wanted to tell you, I just, I don’t know what’s gonna happen after we graduate, okay? And I’m scared.”

“You don’t think we can work through that together? As a team?” Thomas’ eyes are begging you to reason with him. “I’m scared, too, but we’ll figure something out. Right?”

The look in your eyes is distant as you cast them down to the ground. “Yeah.”

“Maybe we could do a long distance thing. I’ve seen other couples do it.”

You fiddle with a loose thread on your sweater. “I don’t know, T. We’ll see if we can come up with something.”

He rolls his eyes and huffs out a hot-tempered laugh. “Okay.” He says shortly.

“What?”

“So you don’t want me to drop everything and go to UCLA with you, which is fine. I understand that. But now you’re telling me that you don’t wanna do long distance?”

“I didn’t say that, I just— we need to be realistic, Thom.”

“What does that even mean?!” He yells, and it’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at you. You hate it.

“We have to keep the future in mind!”

“I want you in my future! Don’t you want me in your future?”

“We both have different ideas of what we want. Different dreams, okay? You can’t have your dream of making it to the NFL and also have me when I plan on going to an engineering program across the country!”

You’re deflecting and he knows it.

“Answer the damn question, Y/N.” He says lowly, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

“Of course I want you in my future, Thomas!” You say exasperatedly, looking at the ceiling. “What kind of question is that?”

“Forgive me if I’m strugglin’ to believe that when you’re actin’ like this.” He says, his voice taking a more neutral tone, but he sounds exhausted. “You’re going to school across the country and you were hesitant to tell me - fine. I fucking get it. But you can’t just say that we’ll probably break up in college and think that that is fucking okay. It’s not! And you can’t say ‘I don’t know’ about dating long distance when that’s literally the only other option we have.”

“That’s the thing, Thomas. I don’t know if that’s the only other option we have.”

His face looks puzzled as he looks at you for a few seconds before realization finally settles in. Thomas narrows his eyes at you once again, his gaze cold, making your heart drop in your chest. “You wanna break up, don’t you?”

“No.” You state, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t want to. But we have to think about—”

“Our future, yeah. I get it.” Thomas snaps, cutting you off. “You know what? You want to talk about the future? Fine. Maybe we should.” He says simply, crossing his arms. “If you think we’re just going to break up in college anyway, maybe we should just speed up the process and get it over with.”

You shake your head at him. “Thomas, don’t do this. That’s not what I want.”

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s not.”

“I find that extremely hard to believe.”

“I’m done arguing with you, Jefferson.” You breathe out tiredly, running a hand through your hair.

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. He looks completely drained as he speaks again, his voice now calm. “What are we doing here, Y/N?”

A small silence fills the air before you answer quietly. “I don’t know, T.”

What are you both doing? Arguing about whether or not your relationship should continue after high school? Maybe you are being a little irrational about it, implying that you should break up before college and all. Thomas’ reaction to it all is understandable because he doesn’t want to lose you. However, he needs to be truthful to himself. Is this relationship going to work when the two of you are seeking entirely different career paths on opposite coasts?

What a fucking mess.

You hate that it’s gotten to this point. Your fear about telling Thomas and it going downhill has come true, and knowing that makes you even more emotional.

“Tommy… I…” You say sotto voce, on the edge of tears as you slowly reach for him, but he puts a hand up stopping you from moving any further. He turns his face so you can’t see his expression.

“Don’t, Y/N.” Thomas’ voice is firm, but it breaks slightly when he says your name. “Just don’t.” He whispers.

You watch him and he struggles to keep himself together. You hate that you’ve done this to him, that you’re making him feel this way… you hate that you’ve caused this.

“I’m gonna go…” You voice (barely above a whisper) after a long silent pause, not trusting your normal voice due to the shaky deep breaths that begin to rack your body. You’re on the verge of breaking down.

Thomas nods. “I think you should.”

And that breaks your heart.

You feel weird leaving like this, gross even. You don’t want to leave things off like they are. You don’t want to leave things unresolved and you don’t want to leave with Thomas still angry at you. Still, though, you grab all your things and head to the doorway of his room.

Pausing to look back at him, you open your mouth to say something, but hesitate. Deciding against it, you turn to open the door and leave without another word.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You call Maria as soon as you get to your car. She helps you keep your composure as you drive to her house, keeping you company via phone. You make sure to send your family a quick text of your whereabouts and that you plan to spend the night at Maria’s place.

As soon as you arrive in her bedroom and drop your bag to the ground, you break down and begin to sob, crashing into the welcoming arms of your best friend. You cry until you can’t anymore, and Maria is there for you the entire time hugging you and easing you through it.

She stays there, quiet and still, allowing you to let out all of your emotions. You don’t tell her the details about what happened until after you have no tears left to cry.

“Don’t be mad at T, please, none of this is his fault.” You sniffle, wiping at your nose with a tissue Maria gave you. “It’s all mine.”

“Y/N, don’t blame yourself for all this. You just want what’s best for the both of you in the long run. If he doesn’t understand that, then he’s just not seeing the whole picture.”

“I just hate arguing with him, Maria.” You say weakly, wiping at your face to dry your tears. “This is our first fight and I hate how I feel right now. I don’t want things to end on bad terms. How am I supposed to get over this feeling once we… if we break up before college?”

“You don’t have to end things on bad terms, Y/N.” Maria says softly. “You both need to be on the same page about this. If you both make a plan and sort things out, then maybe you can leave things on a positive note. Not as a goodbye, but as a see you later, you know? And if it’s meant to be, it’s meant to be. You’ll meet again one day and you can pick up where you left off. But if it’s not, then at least you guys can cherish what you had when you were just two kids in high school who didn’t know any better and made the most of their teenage years.”

You nod slowly. She does have a point, and this is all what you were thinking when you had even brought up the thought of breaking up after graduation.

“How do you always know the right thing to say?”

“It’s my best friend superpower. I can’t help it.” She shrugs, making you laugh, even if it was only a half-hearted one. “Seriously, though. You two need to have an honest conversation with one another.”

You sigh, wiping the rest of your drying tears away with the tissue. “I think we both could use some space right now, though. I’m going to wait until Monday.”

Maria nods. “Monday. But you have to talk to him. You can’t chicken out. I know you, Y/N.”

“Sometimes a little too well…”

“All for the best.” She grins.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

After a long and lonely weekend, Monday finally comes and you make sure to wake up earlier than usual in order to make it to school in time for when Thomas comes out of his physical therapy session with his track trainer.

You haven’t called, texted, or seen each other since Friday night and the guilt and heaviness from what happened still weighs on your chest despite the reassuring words from Maria.

Patiently and nervously, you wait outside the boys’ locker room like you have countless times before, only this time, things feel much different. The anticipation lingers in the air surrounding you and you feel the stress push at your shoulders until the door finally opens and Thomas walks out.

After over a year of dating, you still get butterflies at the sight of him even though he’s just wearing simple black jeans and a t-shirt.

As he shrugs on his jean jacket and backpack, he glances up through a few stray curls that fall down in front of his eyes. His eyes flicker to you as he walks in your direction before he rips them away quickly.

“T, hey how was…?” You try to speak to him, but he just continues to walk past you.

You watch him as he goes on like nothing, completely disregarding your presence.

“You’re still mad…” You trail off, falling into step with him and his pace doesn’t falter.

He doesn’t say a word.

“Listen, I know you probably don’t wanna see me right now, but please hear me out.”

Still nothing.

You know he’s still upset; he only gets quiet when he has a lot on his mind or he’s going through something. Taking in a deep breath, you speed up so that you can get in front of him.

“Thomas, hey, stop.” You say, putting a hand on his chest. You know that if he really wants to charge past you he can, but instead he stays there, halted by your touch. He looks down at you, his face nearing yours, and your eyes plead with his. “Please.” You whisper, your fingers curling into his black shirt to hold him there (or maybe it’s more of a way to ground yourself).

Thomas’ detached gaze lingers on your face and as your eyes search his, you note just how devoid of energy he looks.

“I just want to talk. I…” You watch him as he breaks your gaze to look at the ground. “I know I fucked up; I said some things I shouldn’t have. Just please let me make it up to you. I need you, T. I want to fix this while we still can.”

You sneak a glance around you to see that you’ve attracted some attention from your fellow classmates who are unapologetically staring. Do they know about you and Thomas’ fight? How could they possibly know? You two are hardly making a scene, but then again… people are vultures who will perk up at even the slightest bit of drama.

“Can we go somewhere private? Please? Just the two of us.”

Thomas licks his lips as he looks around, then back at you lazily. “Can this wait? We have class in six minutes, you know.”

“Let’s skip.” You say, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise. “This is more important than class today, okay? How about we go to that diner down the street?”

“It’s a little too early for a milkshake and fries, isn’t it?”

“They have eggs and waffles, too.” You say, your eyes pleading him to accept your offer. “Please? I know you love breakfast.”

He’s quiet for a few more minutes and you wait in anticipation for his answer. Just when you get your hopes down and think he’s going to reject you, he speaks up.

“Okay.” He responds finally. “But only because I really don’t want to watch boring presentations about the social cognitive theory in my Psych class…”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “That’s good enough for me, T.”

“Bribin’ me with breakfast. You know that shit’s my weakness…” He mutters under his breath as he shakes his head. You’re not sure if he’d meant for you to hear that, but either way it makes a hint of a grin form on your lips.

“Come on, I’ll drive.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When you get to the diner, it’s fairly empty except for an elderly couple at a booth and a man at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. The smell of eggs and bacon wafts through the air and enters your nostrils as you breathe in.

A waitress greets you when you two slide into a booth, sitting across from each other. She hands you both menus and gets your drink orders before she’s off.

Silence fills the air between you as you both look over your menus. Thomas doesn’t say anything and it feels weird, suddenly reminding you of why you’re here in the first place. While from an outside perspective it may look like a normal outing between you two, you can feel the lingering tension in the air that’s leftover from Friday night. Unspoken feelings and unresolved problems still remain.

You sneak a glance at him over your menu only to find him already staring back at you. As soon as your eyes meet, he looks away.

“I feel really bad about Friday.” You finally break the silence, your voice small. Wanting nothing more than to let him know how you feel, you try to catch his gaze. When his brown eyes finally meet yours, you continue. “I hate the way we left things…”

“Me too.” He finally says softly. You two stare at each other for a few more seconds and Thomas opens his mouth to continue. “I…”

Then, the waitress comes back with a couple water cups and two black coffees, interrupting whatever it was that Thomas was about to say. You and Thomas direct your attention to her with fake smiles as she asks for your orders.

After she takes your menus and leaves, you let out a sigh as you look down at your fidgeting hands.

“Listen, T…” You begin, regret and guilt evident in your voice. You make sure to look up and meet his gaze one more time before you continue. “I'm sorry for lying to you and your family — I should have told you the day I found out, but I was too afraid of losing what we have. And I'm sorry for fucking up your day when we were supposed to be celebrating instead.”

You stop to take in a shaky deep breath, looking down at your hands once again. “I’m so sorry if I made it seem like I was doubting our relationship or… or if I made you feel like I didn’t… like you weren’t…” Struggling to find the right way to express how sorry you are, your tone gets more and more emotional as you stumble over your words.

Thomas saves you from your struggle, however, as his hand reaches across the table to cover yours, causing you to look up at him with surprise. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”

“What?” You voice breathlessly. “I… I thought you were still mad. It shouldn’t be that easy. Why are you…?”

He shrugs slowly. “Because you’re not entirely at fault… and as much as I want to stay angry, I can’t stand seein’ you in distress like this.”

You purse your lips and squeeze his hand in yours. “I’m still really sorry, T. I want you to know that. I said some things I regret and…”

“I know you are. Especially after seeing you try to fix things today by not takin’ no for an answer earlier. We both said some things we regret and it’s okay, Y/N. Really.” His voice is soft as he responds. “I’m sorry for yellin’ and not fully listenin’ to what you were sayin’. And for bein’ kind of a dick to you earlier when I ignored you. I was in denial. I just felt like you were givin’ up on us too quickly and I… I don’t wanna mess up what we have. I really don’t.”

Your eyes soften at his words. “I know. Me neither.”

You both are quiet for a few seconds as you both struggle to find a way to address the elephant in the room.

Luckily, you both get interrupted by the waitress again who comes back with your orders. You let go of each other’s hand when your plates are placed in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight of your food, and you thank your waitress before she leaves again, telling you to let her know if you need anything else.

A comfortable silence falls in the space between you and Thomas, and though you feel that the tension from Friday night has now dissipated, the stress of the upcoming conversation still sits on your shoulders.

Surprisingly, Thomas is the one who initiates it.

“So…” He starts after chasing a mouthful of pancakes with a sip of water. “I’m guessin’ you won’t be comin’ back to town on holiday breaks?”

You cringe at the bluntness of the question. “What made you assume that?”

He shrugs, chewing his food before swallowing. “Just the way you were so helpless with your options. Thinking back to it, I figure that you probably wouldn’t have jumped to the possibility of breaking up unless you’d already thought things through somewhat.”

Very observant of him.

You nod before letting out a small sigh. “Yeah. My family’s planning on moving to Miami once I move out. Apparently they’re tired of the cold weather and wanted to wait to move until I graduated high school. They let me know when I told them the news.”

“Erik, too?”

“He’s staying in Philly until he graduates next Spring.”

“Well, that sucks.” He says, picking at the leftovers on his plate.

“Yeah.” You reply softly. “I just… I don’t know what to do anymore, Thomas. I thought the answer was clear, but now I’m not so sure.”

He sighs, putting his fork down before looking up at you. “I think I do.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head in confusion.

Thom sighs, leaning back in his seat. “Well, for starters, you’re always right, let me just put that out there.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. Well, for this instance, at least.” He says simply before he continues. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think we’ve got options here.”

“Yes we do, you said it yourself, T.”

“We don’t, Y/N, you were right. I didn’t wanna believe it before but now, I don’t think I have a choice.” He says, holding your gaze firmly. “The two of us going to the same school is out of the picture. Especially with application deadlines already being passed - I checked and I don’t know what I was thinking on Friday. And with us not going to be able to see each other even on holiday breaks… I don’t think that leaves anythin’ else on the table.”

“Thomas, really, you don’t have to do this. Don’t let me pressure you into something you don’t wanna do. Like you said, a relationship’s a two way street. We can work something out. I don’t know what, but we’ll try something else.”

“You’re not pressuring me, Y/N. What would that ‘something else’ be? Long distance? The chances of us visiting each other are slim, especially since I’ll be stuck at UVA for the majority of summer break for training camp. Especially since you’ll be in California and especially since you have no incentive to come back to town after you graduate.”

“You’re my incentive, T.”

He licks his lips and lets out a small laugh. “Baby, don’t fight me on this; you wanted this. Why the shift?”

“I don’t wanna lose you.” You say, voice quiet and close to tears.

Thomas reaches out across the table for your hand again. You lace your fingers with his and hold tightly. “I know. I don’t want to lose you either, but you were right, sweetheart. Seeing each other once a year isn’t good enough, let’s be real. I think we’d be hurting more than we'd be happy.”

You let out a long, deep sigh, squeezing his hand. He’s absolutely right and you knew this when you started this conversation on Friday — doesn’t mean that you don’t want to avoid it, though.

“We… we should…” He hesitates to continue the sentence. “We— God, why is this so hard?”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, T.”

He takes a deep breath before the words finally come out. “We should break up. This summer.”

It sounds foreign coming out of his mouth and his change in viewpoint surprises you still, even after talking it through with him.

“I don’t wanna be your shackle, Y/N.” He says, squeezing your hand comfortingly. “I want you to do great things without worryin’ about me. Just like you were sayin’ on Friday. And I don’t wanna risk getting to a point where we grow too distant we lose all hope.”

Your eyes tear up a little bit and you reach up to wipe at your eyes with your free hand.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m lettin’ you off easy, missy.” Thomas looks at you pointedly, his voice wavering slightly. He lets out a small bittersweet laugh before he continues. “I’m gonna consider this more of a ‘see you later’ than a ‘goodbye forever’ kinda thing. At some point, I don’t know or care when, we’ll continue where we left off. Mark my words.”

You laugh, wiping away a stray tear. You’ve definitely heard those words before. “Have you been talking to Maria lately?”

He gives you a confused look. “No, not since we went on that double date with her and Ellie like two weeks ago, why?”

“She said a similar thing to me when I vented to her this weekend.”

“Really? Oh. I thought I was clever for that one.”

“You were.” You smile, rubbing small circles on the top of his hand.

A comfortable silence settles. The waitress comes back with the check and you give her your card against Thomas’ protests. It’s not long before she comes back and wishes that you both have a good rest of your day.

“This is gonna fucking suck.” Thomas suddenly says bluntly.

“Yeah, it is.” You sigh. “But you know what? We’re gonna make the most of the next three months. We’ll laugh together, we’ll cry together, we’ll enjoy the good times, and when the time comes… we won’t look back. Then, maybe one day, when I’m an engineer and you’re in the NFL… we’ll meet again.”

He sends you a watery smile, giving your hand a small squeeze. “I’m countin’ on it, sweetheart.”

You reciprocate his smile as a small silence stretches in between you two.

Thomas’ eyes fall onto his untouched (and probably now cold) coffee and with his free hand he reaches for the cream. You take that as a sign to let his hand go to let him tend to his glorified bean water, but as you try to withdraw your fingers from his, he just holds on tighter.

“Um, excuse me? What do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, glancing at you like you just committed a sin.

“Don’t you need to pour creamer?” You raise an eyebrow, wondering what the big deal is. “I don’t want you to spill it.”

“Girl, I can pour creamer with one hand, thank you very much.” And there’s the Thomas you know and love, not that he was ever absent in the first place, but it’s good to see him messing around again. “Let me hold your hand in peace because God knows how many more times I’ll get to do it. I gotta savor it.”

“Stoppp.” You whine, drawing the word out. “This is how you’re gonna act until graduation, isn’t it?”

“You complainin’, sweetheart?” He fake pouts as he carefully pours the cream in his coffee and stirs with a spoon. “I thought you loved me.”

You roll your eyes. “You know I love your dramatic ass.”

“Mhm. In more ways than one.” Thomas hums before he takes a sip of his coffee. He cringes when he realizes it’s cold and you laugh at his reaction.

“Ready to go yet?” You ask, amused.

He nods. “We’re not going back to class, though, are we? Because if that’s the case, then no.”

“What? Hell no. Who do you think I am?” You say as you both mutually let go of each other’s hand to get up from the booth.

“A goody-two-shoes, that’s what you are. Really, baby, I didn’t expect you to mention skipping class. That’s like… blasphemy for you.”

You shrug as he holds the front door open for you. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

Thomas gives you a suggestive look and that causes you to smack his arm. “God, Thomas, not like that. Jesus.”

He lets out a full-bodied laugh as you approach your car and he grabs you by the waist as he leans back against the driver’s door. He presses a kiss to your forehead, hugging you close to him. “Just messin’.”

You roll your eyes before you pull back to look him up and down.

“When’d you get this jacket? Haven’t seen you in it before.” You muse, bringing your hands up to grab the denim on each side of his collar.

“A week ago? Maybe two? This is my first time wearing it, though.” He answers before he smirks. “Why? You like it?”

“Yeah, you look good in denim.”

“Do I, now?” He cocks his head slightly, amused as your face drifts closer.

“Mhm. The jacket really suits you.” You hum, releasing the material with one of your hands to slide it up to his jaw. You give him a soft kiss on his lips before you pull back. “Might look better on the floor, though. I don’t know. We’ll have to try and find out.”

Thomas’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise; he hadn’t expected you to turn the suggestive talk around on him. A smirk forms on his lips as he presses them to yours one more time.

“Your parents home?” He mumbles against you.

You pull away slightly to think about it for a second. “No, actually.”

“Well, then I guess we’re about to find out.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Over the next few months, you and Thomas keep the promise you gave to each other at the diner. You’ve stayed positive and lived in the moment and, to be honest, those three months have probably been the best three months of your life.

You and Thom are both making the most of your time, making sure to spend almost every weekend together.

You study together even though you don’t share any classes. Most of the time is spent doing homework in silence, but you still enjoy each other’s presence.

For spring break, you go on a trip to the beach with Thomas, Maria, Ellie, James, Aaron, and a few more mutual friends. The week is full of banter and lots of fun-filled memories that you’ll remember for many years to come. It’s definitely one of the many highlights of senior year.

Thomas, being his over-the-top self, asks you to prom by spelling ‘Prom?’ out with bouquets of roses on your front lawn. And as if that isn’t enough, you wake to the sound of a live orchestral quartet playing your favorite song. You groggily walk over to your window to see where the sound is coming from and you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend grinning up at you with his arms gesturing around him proudly.

Of course you say yes.

You would have said yes even if he had asked you casually — but what can you say… you’re a sucker for flowers and he knows it.

Prom night is an absolute blast. You feel like a stunner in your dress and Thomas looks unbelievably handsome in his fitted tux. You stay together the entire night, dancing, singing, laughing, and joking around with both your and his friends.

You almost lose track of the amount of date nights you have with Thomas. You have movie nights, some nights you go rollerskating, concerts, restaurants, hell, you even go paintballing together, which is something that neither of you had ever thought you’d get into.

But as June grows closer and closer, you can’t help but feel that heaviness settle back into your chest. You’d be lying if you said that you haven’t thought about backing out of this agreement the two of you have. In fact, you’ve spent countless nights lying wide awake (sometimes right next to Thomas), trying to figure out how things would go if you decide to stay together.

With your parents deciding to move down to Miami a week after you graduate, it pushes the day you move out to LA earlier than you had originally intended, which makes the idea of staying together seem next to impossible. Your mother says that it’ll be a good opportunity for you to get to know the LA area before classes start in August.

This causes you and Thomas to have a more in-depth conversation about the plan and it ends with you two deciding to break it off a week before your big move. Both of you are in agreement that it would be best for the both of you, so that you have some time to recover. You figure it will be easier that way.

So, when the time comes to start packing your things for your move to California (and your parents’ move to Florida), you get stressed out. You notice that Thomas’ and your enthusiasm/positivity starts to fade as the date of graduation creeps closer and closer.

Which brings you to the present.

On the day of graduation, reality finally hits you. Because not only are you recognizing the fact that you’re leaving the love of your life in eight days to go to school in Cali, you’re also leaving Maria who has been a constant in your life since elementary school.

Maria plans to stay in town and go to community college to knock out all her general education classes before she transfers to a four-year university. Luckily, her girlfriend Ellie has the same idea, so they’ll be taking the same path after high school.

At least they will be together.

Unlike you and Thom, who are currently posing for a photo together for his and your parents who stand behind their phones grinning and teary eyed. You both give your best smiles to the cameras, trying to preserve the memory as best as possible without breaking.

Surprisingly, you and Thomas have stayed strong despite the impending suspension of your relationship that lingers in the atmosphere between you. Although teary eyed because you are saying goodbye to a lot of friends and faculty you’ve gotten to know over the years, you and Thomas don’t cry on graduation day. You don’t cry during the ceremony, you don’t cry during the many pictures you take that day, and you don’t cry at the large family dinner the Jefferson household holds for both you and Thomas.

You’ve both toughed it out both privately and in public. But graduation day eventually comes to its inevitable end, and the day after begins, marking your last day with Thomas Jefferson as your boyfriend.

The two of you make your last day special and have a day-long picnic in a nearby park. You wake up early and spend the entire day together, laughing, kissing, talking, and having as much fun as you can with the inevitable future looming over your heads. You both make the best of your time together, and that’s really all you can ask for.

As the day goes by, your time together begins to run out. And both of your composures begin to fade as each second passes.

While your curfew to be back home is 10pm, you and Thomas decide to hold onto each other a bit longer, so he drives you home and you sneak him into your room when your parents are too busy packing in the basement. They know that this is your last day with Thomas, so when you’re distracting them while Thomas makes his way up the stairs, you tell them that you’re going to sleep early. They comfort you for a few minutes but leave you to your own grief, knowing to respect your wish of ‘sleeping the night off.’

Little do they know, you and Thomas decide to have one more special night together.

When you finally make your way up to your bedroom, Thomas is sitting on your bed, glancing at the half-empty boxes in the corner of your room that need to be filled. Half of your room is packed up, but you’ve put off packing lately to spend time with Thom before you physically can’t anymore.

You let out a sniffle and you don’t realize that you are on the verge of crying until you see Thomas begin to break, too.

“Come here.” He murmurs, standing up from your bed to pull you into a tight hug.

You both cry into each other’s shoulders, fully letting yourselves go emotionally as you let out your pent up sadness. You’re getting each other’s clothing wet with tears, but neither of you care as you cling onto each other, not wanting to let go.

You don’t know how long you stay there or how long it takes until both of you calm down enough so that your tears fall silently.

“I told you this was gonna fucking suck.” Thomas mumbles against you, causing you to let out a laugh and sob at the same time.

You don’t respond, but after a few seconds, you pull away from his shoulder to look at him. Silence stretches between you before you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you.” He echoes without hesitation before he leans his forehead against yours. You both bask in each other’s presence for a few more beats until Thomas speaks again, his words shaking. “Football won’t be the same without you, Y/N. I won’t be the same without you.”

“You played football for years before I became a part of your life. You’ll be fine, T.” You say quietly, though you are absolutely sure of your words. You bring a hand up to cup his cheek and wipe some of his tears away. “You’re gonna move on and be great and show people what you’re capable of.”

Silence stretches between the two of you before you take a step away from him as you remember something. Thomas frowns at your sudden withdrawal, but you explain yourself as you both wipe at your faces to dry them as best as each of you can.

“That reminds me…” You say, digging into one of the open boxes in the corner of your room until you feel a familiar piece of fabric. You pull out Thomas’ purple hoodie — the one he gave to you the night you officially became a couple. Damn, it feels so long ago now, but it hasn’t even been two years. “Here. You should probably take this back.”

He lets out a small laugh and takes the purple fabric from you to examine it. He seems lost in thought, but after a few moments, he shakes his head and hands it back to you. “Nah. Keep it.”

When you don’t take it, his hand reaches out to one of yours and he wraps your fingers around the fabric. You try to protest, but he continues.

“Don’t want you forgettin’ about me, now, do we?” He chuckles dryly.

“I won’t forget you, Thomas.” Your voice sounds so sure of your words that Thomas has no choice but to believe you.

He swallows and looks down for a second before he glances back into your eyes. “I know.”

“You’re gonna forget about me, though.”

Thomas shakes his head and his eyebrows scrunch together and he looks like he’s about to break again before he reaches out to pull you close.

“Never.” He mumbles into your hair before he pulls back. “Hey, I mean it from the bottom of my heart. I will never forget you, Y/N Y/L/N. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

He brings his hands up to cup both sides of your face. His thumbs brush some fresh tears away before he continues to talk. “These eyes? Unforgettable. This beautiful face? Ingrained in my brain forever, sweetheart, I promise you that.” One of his thumbs lightly brushes over your lips. “Don’t even get me started on these lips. I’ll miss them for sure.”

Thomas pauses for a second before his beautiful brown eyes gaze into yours, letting you know that he truly means his next words. “I’m never going to forget any part of you, Y/N.”

You stay there, gazing at one another with nothing but pure love and admiration. Without breaking eye contact, you gingerly put Thomas’ hoodie (which is apparently yours now) back in the box you removed it from. You reach up to pull Thomas’ lips down to yours passionately.

Thomas responds, instantly reciprocating the kiss with the same amount of emotion that you pour into it. He moves his hands from your cheeks to pull your body closer to him. Your hand digs into the material of his shirt and suddenly, you can’t get enough of each other. You both need more — to be closer — but neither of you rush anything. You take it slow and try to take in every little detail about each other.

As layer after layer of clothing comes off, you two savor the feeling of each other’s lips, bodies, and touch. Every soft moan, every sigh, every gasp, every kiss… each and every moment that you spend with each other is savored in one final heat-filled act of love.

Afterwards, you both lie in your bed under the blankets, Thomas’ arm around your naked body and your head on his bare chest. You cherish each other’s presence for one final time, basking in silence until Thomas finally breaks it, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You still sure about this, sweetheart?”

You are quiet for a few seconds before you answer, sotto voce. “Yeah, T.” You listen to his steady heartbeat as you bring your hand up to rest on his torso. “You?”

He nods slowly. “Yeah.”

A few seconds pass and you subconsciously trace little circles on his abdomen with your thumb. Thomas’ arm tightens around your waist as he pulls your closer.

“I’m sorry things have to end this way.” He mumbles against you, his deep voice reverberating throughout his chest.

“Don’t be.” You murmur, exhausted from the emotional toll this day has taken on you. But you wouldn’t trade it for the world — unless there’s a way where it doesn’t end with you and Thomas going your separate ways.

You shake your head at yourself for thinking so negatively. You promised each other something back at that diner.

“It’s not the end, T.” You speak out loud, shifting so that your head rests on the pillow and you’re face to face with Thomas. “You said it yourself before and now it’s my turn to say it: this is a ‘see you later,’ alright? So I better fucking see you later, or else.”

He laughs (oh, you’re gonna miss that laugh) and his hand slides up the curve of your hip to pull himself closer to you. “Back at ya, princess.”

You both sniffle, but you know that your time together, for the time being, at least, has come to an end — especially as both of you begin to drift off no matter how hard you try to stay awake.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You whisper in Thomas’ warm embrace.

Thomas responds after he brushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t have to.”

So neither of you do.

And you both fall asleep, bodies entangled with one another, content to be in each other’s embrace one last time before you move away.

The next morning, Thomas wakes up before you do and he slowly untangles himself from you as he wills himself to stay strong. He dresses himself as quietly as he can before he presses one last kiss to your temple.

Then, he takes one last look at your sleeping form before he leaves, keeping his word to you and not giving either of you a chance to say your goodbyes.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

A week later, your heart beats frantically as you drop a box of things you plan on leaving behind against the wall outside of your room.

It’s minutes before you’re supposed to leave for the airport — you want to leave early in case something goes wrong and you get delayed. Sighing, you walk back into your empty room to check for any last things you may have missed packing into the many boxes that are already stashed into your parents’ car.

“Y/N?” You hear your brother call out from downstairs. “I think there’s someone waiting for you outside.”

Who could it be? You’ve already said your goodbyes to Maria earlier that day when she’d helped you finish packing.

Erik gives you a sad smile as you pass by and you give him a confused look.

“What? Who is it?” You ask, eyebrows raised. “You know we have to leave in a few, right?”

“You’ll see.” Erik says, causing you to sigh.

After determining that your final sweep (even though you’ve done it three times now) is done, you make your way past Erik and open the front door. When you make it onto your driveway, you’re shocked to see Thomas Jefferson standing there with a sheepish grin and his hands in his pockets, looking as handsome as ever.

“Thomas…” You trail off, surprised to see him after your last day together the week prior. “What are you doing here?”

Your boyfriend (well… ex now, technically) walks closer and takes his hands out of his pockets. You can see him fidgeting with his fingers as he speaks. “I uh…” He breathes out a nervous laugh before one of his hands reaches up to rub the back of his neck.

You watch him from a few feet away as he struggles to get his words out.

“Well, I… as your… not-boyfriend wanted to say goodbye.” He says softly, shifting his eyes to the ground briefly before looking back up to gaze into yours. “I changed my mind. Leaving without saying goodbye just gutted me and made me feel like we had unfinished business. I had to see you one more time, Y/N. I-I’m sorry.” Thomas’ voice is unstable as he apologizes and you feel tears well up in your eyes as he continues. “I know this breaks our agreement and everything, but I couldn’t just let you leave before—”

You cut him off by stalking forward to wrap him into a crushing hug — a hug the two of you desperately need at the moment. Thomas doesn’t waste a second before his arms encircle your waist to hold you just as tightly to him.

Even though you had spent the entire day with each other just a week prior, the need to see each other — to feel each other — one last time has consumed you both. You agree that waking up to an empty bed without saying a proper goodbye (even though it’s what you had initially wanted) had crushed you, and it had caused you to be an emotional wreck to the following two days.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, sniffling before letting out a bittersweet laugh. “I just made this so much more fucking difficult for us.”

“It’s okay.” You reciprocate his laugh as tears stream down your face. “It’s so worth it, T.”

A few minutes pass by as you hold each other close.

“I know I’ve said this before, but I’m really gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, T.” You say quietly. “So much.”

You’ve lost track of time and your mother is the one to finally bring you and Thomas back to reality.

“Y/N, we gotta go, honey…” Your mom speaks as softly as possible from her position at the front door, and you can see the guilt on her face as she watches her daughter’s heart break. “You’re gonna be late for your flight.”

You turn back to Thomas and give him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You gave me the best year and eight months I could ever ask for… so thank you.”

You look up at him for a second before you sob and crash into his chest. “I love you.”

“I know. I love you, too.” He replies softly before he steels himself. “But you have a flight to catch. Which means you need to go.”

You give him one last kiss, it’s watery from both of your tears but neither of you care.

“Go be great.” He says when you pull back. “You deserve the world, Y/N.”

He holds your hand until the grip slips when you take a step towards the car.

“See you later, Thomas.”

He smiles through his tears before he replies. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart.”

You get in the car and a few seconds later, your mother pulls out of the driveway (apparently Erik and your father are going to drive separately). As the car drives away, Thomas waves from your driveway until you can’t see him anymore. You know that’s the last you’ll see of him for a while.

And maybe, just maybe, you regret leaving him behind.

But a voice lingers in the back of your mind that gives you some sort of relief:

If it’s meant to be, then it’s meant to be.

#thomas jefferson x reader #daveed diggs x reader #jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson imagine #daveed diggs imagine #high school au #hamilton fanfic #thomas jefferson fanfic #wideout #feel free to yell at me #but on the bright side #GET READY TO MEET NFL!THOM #what a man

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unnuevosoltransformalarealidad · 3 years

Text

Stress

Title: Stress Summary: After two weeks of stressful work, you need to relax and your boyfriend is willing to help you Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Prompt: — Warnings: vomiting, sickness, lack of sleep, stress, irresponsible coworker,caring Chris Word Count: 1450 A/N: This was purely based on what’s going on with my life for the past month. I’ve been really stressed out and I needed some comfort. If you find any mistake, I’m sorry but English isn’t my mother tongue. Enjoy the reading!

A month ago, your boss added someone new to your team, and your supervisor suggested you train that person. At first, you were really happy to help her, but then you became aware that your boss had lied to you about her abilities, so what supposedly was going to be something easy, actually, it became twice as difficult because you had to teach her everything from scratch. You knew it wasn’t going to be easy.

-You look different — Chris said when you entered the house after work -I’ve got a new member on the team -That’s good, right? — he asked seeing you weren’t excited about it -I mean, yes it’s good for the team -But? -I’m in charge of teaching the way we work as a team and I don’t know if it’s going to work — you said and sighed -Don’t worry, my love. You’ll be fine — he told you and kissed your forehead

A week later, you were still teaching her the basics and she kept asking you the same questions she did the first day. You’ve given her all the documentation with the explanations of everything and she even told you she’d read it twice. You tried everything to make her remember what you’d taught her but it seemed she was making fun of you. Every time you asked her if she understood, she would’ve assured you she did, but then, when she was working with another member of the team, she would say that she didn’t know what that person was talking about. You were really stressed out, and you haven’t made any progress yet. Your supervisor was expecting good feedback, but you couldn’t lie. You and your workmates were frustrated. At the end of the day, she was pretty good about everything she had learned and everything you taught her, but the next day she didn’t remember anything, it was like her brain erased everything and all the progress was gone. That was the worst part.

Chris was starting to get worried about your health. You started to skip meals, you were sleeping fewer hours, and when you could do it, it wasn’t peaceful at all. He didn’t know how to help you. He tried to get all the work done in the house, so you could relax but the stress you were managing was draining all your energy.

By the beginning of the second week, Chris noticed you’d lost weight, your eyes had dark circles underneath and you were really grumpy. He knew that he needed to do something and fast. He tried to force you to eat, to take more breaks, to rest more, to sleep more, but nothing was working, you were more grumpy and irritated and less caring and loving. This was making you get sicker. Everything you ate, you ended up throwing up, you were always light-headed, and you kept losing weight. Chris was done with this and your behaviour. You like it or not, this was stopping today.

-Babe, we need to talk — he interrupted you while working on something -I can’t. I have to finish this file for tomorrow — you cut him off -No, babe, you can’t. You’re going to get sick if you keep like this — Chris told you frustrated -Look, hun — you said looking at him — if you really care about me, let me finish this, and I’ll stop, please — you begged -You promise? -Promise — you said and kissed him That was last week. You did stop after finishing that file, but the following day was like the last ones in the past two weeks. Chris was running out of ideas on how to help you and it broke his heart seeing you like this. He felt helpless until this morning when he heard you crying. That was the last straw. He approached to you carefully to not scare you -Baby? What’s the matter? — he asked hugging you from the back -I can’t do this anymore — you sniffled -What? Don’t scare me, love — he hugged you tightly -Teach her. I’m doing everything to help her and then she goes to my supervisor and tells him that she doesn’t understand anything — you sobbed harder -Does your supervisor know this? — he inquired -Yes, he knows that. But is so frustrating — you finally broke down -It’s ok love. Shh, i’ve got you. Everything is going to be fine — Chris said comforting you You kept crying for what felt like hours, Chris holding you caressing your back. He never left your side. He even answered a few of your messages that needed your attention. When he felt that you’ve calmed, he let the hug loose a little and kissed your head. -Better? — he asked and you nodded -Thanks — you whispered -What about drinking that black sweet tea you really like with some toasts? -I’m not hungry, love -You need to eat something honey. At least just drink the tea. Please? — he begged -Just the tea — you smiled and he kissed you While preparing your tea, Chris grabbed his phone and sent a text

Hey guys! Need your help. Y/N has been pretty stressed up these past weeks and I run out of ideas on how to help her. Any advice? Thanks

Chris was determined to help you and in order to do that he needed some backup calling his mom, his brother, and his brother-in-law to prepare some things to help you relax. When you finished working, instead of going to the kitchen like you always did, you laid in your bed. You were too tired and didn’t want to do anything. Some time later, Chris found you in our shared bedroom -Babe? Is everything alright? — he asked you sitting next to you -I’m tired, hun — you said with a hoarse voice, you were about to cry -Shh, it’s okay love — Chris shushed you — Why don’t you go and take a bath while I prepare something light to eat? — you just nodded Chris prepared the bathtub with warm water and lit some candles to help you relax. Then he carried you to the bathroom, undressed you and helped you to get in. -Take your time, sweetheart — he said, kissed your forehead and left you. Almost an hour later he went to pick you up. He took you out of the bathtub, he helped you dry yourself and gave you some of his clothes to be more comfortable. Once you were ready he took you to the kitchen, the lights were dim, there was soft music in the background and there were a lot of little things that helped you with your work related anxiety. -What’s all of this? — you asked amazed -Babe, it broke my heart seeing you struggling these past weeks, and today when I saw you crying, I knew it was enough. I ran out of ideas on how I could helped you relax, so I called my ma, Scott and his boy for help, and we came up with all this — he explained and you were crying -I don’t know what I did to deserve you and your family. I know I’ve been reckless with my health and I let my work become first when I shouldn't, and I feel really bad about it. I'm sorry babe, but I really wanted this to work out — you explained honestly -I know sweetheart, you worked so hard to make it work that you didn't realize that you forgot about other stuff. Now, let's eat something and watch some movies You were snuggling Chris on the couch, when you started to cry with no reason. -Honey? What is it? -Nothing. It's that all of this, you did it to help me, and I never noticed it -It's ok love. That's why I'm here. To help you relax and to make sure you are taking care of you -I love you babe — You said and kissed him -I love you too — he said kissing you back

The next day, you told your supervisor what was going on with your workmate, and you explained to him how it had affected you and your health. He understood everything and he assured you he was going to work with her, so you could work better and relaxed. That day, you learnt that sometimes is not only your responsibility to help someone, because if the other doesn't show interest in what you're saying or doing, the process of learning gets lost and you are making an effort that is not worth it.

Tag List: (Let me know if you want to be added)

#chris evans x reader #chris evans fluff #Chris Evans fandom #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans fanfic

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plaidbooks · 3 years

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Hey. Could I please request something fluffy with Sonny? Sonny, reader and their toddler bonding ... honestly i have no plot whatsoever. Lol I just want Daddy!Sonny🥺 thanks💕

Glimpses (A Glimpse of the Future part 5.5)

A/N: I fucking love Papa!Sonny, and I need him. This fic made me want children...but only if Sonny’s the dad/my husband. This is kind of a spiritual successor to A Glimpse of the Future, but can be read as a standalone (I just love the name Rosa for his daughter, okay?). It also covers the Cuddling square in the VDay Bingo. Hope you enjoy, and thank for requesting @amorestevens <3

This is day 1 of the bingo, hurray! I was asked to do fluff instead of angst, but i make no more promises for any other story!

Tags: none, just fluff

Words: 1389

Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @lv7867 @storiesofsvu @cycat4077 @barbasimp @alwaysachorusgirl @crowleysqueenofhell @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles

On days he worked, Sonny was lovely, gently waking you before he got in the shower so that you could get up and get some things done in the peace and quiet before your two-year-old awoke. But on his days off, Sonny was a godsend. He took care not to disturb the bed as he got up, letting you get a few extra moments of sleep. The only thing that would awaken you was the smell of coffee, food, and the deep fear that you had overslept. But by the time you’d come padding into the kitchen, Sonny would be just putting the finishing touches on breakfast, serving you as you wrapped your arms around his waist, kissing his cheek. And while you’d eat, he’d get Rosa out of bed, carrying her to the kitchen for milk and her own breakfast. Only then would he feed himself.

Today started out like that, with you happily in love with your husband, watching him wash dishes while sneaking bites of food. Normally, you did the dishes, but he was very particular about his stainless-steel knives, and you’d given up arguing about it. So instead, you fed your daughter, making sure she got more in her mouth than around it.

Since becoming an ADA, Sonny now had weekends almost always off. Almost. Which is why you were taking full advantage of it. It was a beautiful day outside, and you were determined to drag him with you to the park, to let Rosa play on the little play structure there.

“Isn’t she too small for that?” Sonny had asked, wary.

You chuckled—he was “cool Uncle Sonny,” who let the kids do whatever they wanted normally. But Rosa was his one and only child, and he kept her on a pedestal. The first night you had brought her home, Sonny didn’t sleep, instead watching her all night, making sure she was okay. You knew what kind of parent he was going to be when in his sleep-deprived state, he cried about not being able to nurse Rosa.

“She’s fine, babe—I’ve taken her there before. Besides, look at her! She’s got your height,” you replied, gesturing at her. It was true; while Rosa looked like you—besides her bright, blue eyes—she was already big for her age. She was going to be tall when she grew up.

“Y-yeah, but—”

“She’s fine, Dom,” you smiled at him. “I promise.”

***********

Once Sonny was able to let her go, he learned that you were right; Rosa was fine on the play structure. Though, she fell once, and you thought Sonny would have a heart attack. You had to grab his arm to stop him from rushing over to her. And when she had sprung back up, laughing and running around again, Sonny had let out a sigh, relaxing next to you.

“You’re going to be the dad that sits in the kindergarten class with her cause you refuse to leave her, aren’t you?” you asked, elbowing his ribs.

“Hey, I worry. My job…” he trailed off, eyes locked on his daughter.

You squeezed his arm. “I know, Dom, I know. But you can’t stifle her, either.”

“I-I know…there was just this case recently…. Never mind; I don’t want to think about it.” Sonny shuddered slightly, and you squeezed his arm again.

As you left the park, you each had one of Rosa’s hands, and she walked in between you two. Sonny would count down from three, and you’d both swing her forward, lifting her off her feet, making her squeal with laughter. Eventually, she got bored with that, though, squirming out of your hand and going to Sonny.

“Dada, up!” she commanded, and Sonny laughed, lifting her and planting her on the back of his neck, legs dangling on his chest. You grinned at the two of them, heart full.

***********

“And this can’t wait until Monday? Or at least tomorrow?” Sonny said angrily into his phone. He was pacing in the kitchen and you were doing dishes, Rosa playing with her toys in the living room, cartoons on. You glanced at him just as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, I’ll be right there,” Sonny said though gritted teeth before hanging up.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. You had just finished dinner—it was rare for Sonny to be called in this late.

“Liv needs a warrant tonight. I gotta run to the office real quick, then try and find a judge willing to sign off on it on a Saturday night,” he explained, heading out of the kitchen towards the bedroom. There was no time to get into a full suit, so he was opting for a button-up and blazer over his day-off jeans. He tried to be stealthy, to not let Rosa see, but it was too late.

“Dada?” she asked as he headed for the front door. Sonny froze in his tracks, glancing at you for help.

You walked over to Rosa, saying gently, “Daddy has to go to work really quick. He’ll be right back—”

“No!” Rosa said angrily, stomping her foot.

You sighed. “Rosa, we’ve talked about this; Daddy sometimes gets called into work. He has an important job and has to—”

“No! Dada stay!” she reiterated, crossing her arms. Then the tears came, and she wailed loudly.

You looked over at Sonny, who hadn’t moved a muscle; he was normally gone before this. “Why are you still here? Go; hurry back. She’ll calm down,” you tried, but now Sonny had tears in his eyes.

“D-does she do this every time I leave?” he asked softly, his voice barely audible over Rosa’s screams.

“Not every time, but often enough,” you confessed. You never told him, because you were afraid of this kind of reaction. “Just…go, babe. It’s only going to be worse if you drag it out.”

But instead of turning and leaving, Sonny pulled out his phone. “Yeah Liv? Family emergency; call another ADA. Sorry.” And then he hung up, shrugging out of his blazer and hanging it up before coming over to Rosa. He squatted down in front of her, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Daddy’s staying home for the night, okay? No more crying,” he cooed to her, bouncing her gently.

Rosa sobbed for a little while longer, her arms wrapped around his neck. You gave him a soft smile. “You realize you’re just encouraging her; now she’ll cry whenever you leave to try and stop you,” you muttered.

“And if I see it, she has a pretty good chance of succeeding,” Sonny whispered back, kissing the side of her head.

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

The three of you ended up cuddling on the couch, under the giant blanket Sonny’s ma made for your first Christmas together. Sonny had his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his side. Your head was on his shoulder, his head on yours. Rosa was tucked between you both, your hand stroking her back lovingly.

When you were pretty sure Rosa had finally drifted off, you said softly, “I wanted to tell you this tomorrow, but I can’t keep it secret anymore.” Sonny lifted his head from yours, furrowing his brow as he looked at you in confusion. “I’m pregnant, Dom.”

A wide grin broke across his face. “Really? When did you find out? How far along are you?”

You opened your mouth to respond when Rosa shifted. “Mama, what’s preg…mat?”

Your cheeks warmed as you glanced at Sonny. He chuckled. “That’s all you, doll,” he murmured.

You shot him a playful glare. “Uh, Rosa, it means you might have a little brother or sister soon.”

She was quiet for a long time, and you thought she might have fallen asleep. Finally, she whispered, “I wish I had a little sister to play with.”

The smile Sonny had was blinding, and he pulled you both closer. “We’ll just have to wait and see, my little Rose.” Sonny kissed the top of her head, then pulled you in for a gentle kiss. This was the best ending to a perfect day, a family day. You hoped that you could have more of them soon, especially with baby number two on the way. You nuzzled your face closer against Sonny, heart full of love.

#sonny carisi x reader #thatesqcrushvdaybingo #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #fanfic #I love papa!sonny #amorestevens

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

Text

Always Welcome (Luna Lovegood x Reader)

Character: Luna Lovegood, Xenophilius Lovegood

Fandom: Harry Potter

Tags: Fluff, Christmas

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,2k words

Requested by anon: Since it's the last moment to request a ficlet... Could you please write a ficlet with Luna Lovegood (HP) who invites her friend (preferably a female!reader, also a member of Ravenclaw) to spend Christmas together at her home, which they accept, and then one day during Christmas break when the reader asks why they were even invited, Luna confesses they are pretty much the only person in Hogwarts she cares about and wanted to have them close during this time? Thanks in advance!

A/N: Sorry that this took me so long to post, but thanks for being so patient and lovely! Although it’s well past Christmas, I hope you enjoy!!

Luna Lovegood x Gender Neutral Reader

You didn’t know why you were so nervous. Maybe because you wanted Luna’s dad to like you as much as she seemed to do. Maybe it was simply because it was the first time you met a friend’s parent or even spent a part of Christmas away from home. Nonetheless, you knew you were excited despite your mild anxiety.

Luna, leading the way in front of you as she cheerfully skipped through the fields, was oblivious to all these thoughts. She was over the moon to have you there with her on such a special day.

When she stopped before the door of a strangely shaped house that could only be inhabited by wizards, Luna turned to you. You admired the construction, feeling your love for magic grow even further. It was one of the main reasons why you were so close with Luna. Not only was she unique, genuine and lovely, she was also purely magical.

“There’s no need to be nervous” She said with her soft voice, causing you to look at her. “Surely, he may think you’re a bit odd as I do, but that’s okay”

You chuckled, taken aback by such statement. Whether deliberate or not, it had managed to ease your anxiety a bit. It was ironic seeing as everyone in Hogwarts thought Luna Lovegood was a bit odd herself. With time, however, you had realized that it wasn’t a bad thing. It was a wonderful thing in fact.

“Thanks, Luna” You nodded your head, appreciating her honesty as always.

She paused for a moment to dedicate you a sweet smile that calmed you even further. Then she reached out to take your hand and drag you with her.

“Come on, there is nothing to worry about” Luna knocked on the door to warn her father of your presence. “I told him so much about you that he feels as though he already knows you. That way you won’t have to dread talking about yourself”

You smiled, appreciating the thought. It was definitely embarrassing to go on and on about yourself on such a superficial level, especially with someone you didn’t know. Realizing this, Luna had done all she could to avoid it. In fact, she had also told you a bit about her father. You knew that Xenophilius Lovegood was the main person behind the magazine The Quibbler, that he had lost his wife many years ago, and that he was definitely very much like Luna. As soon as the door opened, you could tell she was her father’s daughter.

“Hello, my dear Y/N” Xenophilius received you warmly. “It is so great to finally meet you! My Luna can’t stop talking about you”

When you glanced at her, she was smiling still.

“Thank you, sir” You shook his hand, trying to be as polite as possible. “And thank you for having me in your lovely home”

“Oh, no need for formalities: you can call me Xenophilius” He effusively patted your hand before letting go of it. “If you can pronounce my name, that is”

Surprised by his little joke, you laughed. Although she had told you her dad wasn’t the joking type, you assumed that was an attempt to relief the tension as well as to address he appreciated the effort you were making to adapt to the wizard traditions.

When you came in, you saw the small house filled to the brim with muggle decorations and themes that made you feel at home. Surely, you had spent one or two Christmas at Hogwarts, but you hadn’t actively participated in much of the traditions, a part of you wanting to spend a muggle Christmas with your family. The other part of you, that begged to be immersed in the literal magic, was internally screaming in joy.

Although there was a normal Christmas three, non-magical mistletoe and lots of ordinary decorations, there were also magical details sprung out around the house. The mixture felt like a combination of yours and Luna’s personalities, and so you reached out to squeeze her hand as a thank you for such a warm welcome.

“Come on in” Xenophilius invited you into the house, stepping to the side to make room for you.

The inside of the Lovegood home was like the definition of magical. You had seen the Weasley’s Burrow and was fascinated by it, but this… it had a special charm, unique and quirky like Luna. And it was lovely. Somehow, you felt right at home.

“Make yourself at home” Xenophilius said, as though he had just read your mind. “After all, you’re always welcome here”

You quickly turned to him, taken aback by his words. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, now busy with serving the plates and setting them over the table. Apparently, they had been waiting for you to eat. Moved by his nonchalant invitation, you peered at Luna. Just then, she was staring back at you. When your gazes met, she grinned and motioned for you to follow her with a nod of her head.

You both sat at the table, and you opened your mouth to offer to help, but ultimately decided against it. Luna had already warned you, reminding you that you were their guest and you wouldn’t move a muscle. Deeply endeared by their thoughtful attentions, you just sat there and smiled to yourself.

It didn’t take long to get used to the Lovegood residence. It was a cozy place, hosted by attentive people that made everything in their power to make you feel comfortable. Xenophilius Lovegood was charming, with all his eccentricities that Luna had clearly inherited from him. The company was flawless and the conversation was interesting. You learned quite a lot about magical creatures that you had never even heard of, but that were the most curious ones in your opinion.

Luna insisted on taking a walk around as soon as you finished eating, assuring that nargles could take the opportunity that you were vulnerable and full to get in your ears and make your brain go fuzzy. It seemed to be better to keep moving, and you didn’t mind taking a walk with Luna. It reminded you of the times you would wander around the castle at Hogwarts with her, talking about anything and everything.

When you turned to her, you saw Luna was dreamily looking up at the sky, admiring the darkish shade of blue that was taking over it as night slowly fell. You smiled at the sight.

“Is there something on your mind?” She suddenly asked, clearly noticing you.

“Yes… Luna, can I ask you a question?”

“Of course” She cheerfully replied, turning to you as well. “Curiosity is a virtue”

You suddenly felt lucky to have been sorted into Ravenclaw, otherwise you might have never become friends with her.

“Why did you invite me here?”

“Well, because I like you” Luna simply shrugged. “And… because I wanted to be around you during this time”

“Thanks” As a gesture of your gratitude and affection, you reached out to take her hand. “I really appreciate that”

“As my dad said, you’re always welcome at our home” Luna didn’t only let you hold her hand, she intertwined her fingers with yours.

Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @dancewaterdance02 / @thisismysecrethappyplace / @bitchingpretty / @lookinsidemyhead / @c-taylor-wanna-be-a-glader / @welcome-here-in-my-world / @x-joie-x / @under-the-clouds / @legallyblindgamer727 / @lotsoffandomrecs / @goldenhoney-cas / @bravelittlesunflower / @lxncelot / @fortheloveofbenyandtom / @suenami3 / @ta-ka-shi-ma // If you want to be added or taken off the tag list for these fandoms or characters, send me an ask!! // Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

#luna lovegood #luna lovegood x reader #harry potter #rfi writings #ficlet #luna lovegood ficlet #harry potter ficlet #hp #hp ficlet #reader insert #requested #christmas

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yee-fxcking-haw · 4 years

Text

What Happens Next?

A/N: Y'ALL I FUCKIN DID IT I FINISHED THE DAMN FIC. So I definitely bit off more than I could chew by making my first fic a multipart with so much fucking emotion and such a busy plot but lol we did it! Thank you to everyone who has read the story and asked to be tagged and sent me kind words I love y'all so damn much.

Warnings/Rating: 18+ explicit content, very soft romantic smut, unprotected sex, almost a blowjob, James finishes inside the reader. A lot of fluffy love making petty much a great time.

Summary: In the sixth and final chapter of this series, James and you finally figure your shit out. You have to stop running from each other, what you have is far too brilliant...

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Part Five

Playlist

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Part Six

Annie's Diner

"I'm a nurse! I'm a nurse, let me see him!" A soft voice calls out over your shoulder. James' head turns towards the voice, his eyes fluttering back open.

"James?" You ask urgently.

"Relax doll, I was just restin' my eyes for a second. Fightin' off assholes is hard work."

He slowly raises to brace himself on his elbows, wincing a little while he does.

The nurse comes around and drops to her knees on the other side of him. She's a pretty little thing with honey colored hair and bright brown eyes.

"Just give us one second dear, I'm certain he's alright I just need to check for a concussion."

You don't answer, you just nod and get up to turn to the small crowd that's begun to disperse, seemingly disappointed with the lack of action.

This is an opportunity for you to finally take a deep breath and process everything that's happene. Air fills your lungs, shoulders rising and tensing for a moment. You release and let your posture fall back down, letting yourself portray outwardly how drained you feel inside. You've gone from hating James and being terrified of him, to being saved by him, to understanding him to… what now? If everything he's said is true, then everything that happened between you two is just as meaningful as it was before prom. Although, misunderstanding or not, it still hurt like hell. You should be more cautious, right? You shouldn't just run back into his arms like everything's fine, even though it is.

You turn to look back at him, long legs sprawled on the pavement while the alleged nurse checks his pulse and his pupils. He's joking about something, you can tell by the way his eyebrows are sitting higher and the lopsided smile on his face. He's propped up on his elbows, strong arms straining against his shirt. The image sends you back to the afternoon that changed it all, you remember his solid body collapsing onto your lap in a dramatic display of feigned illness. Your lips twitch into a small smile at the thought. You shake your head and walk back towards them.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you look worried about me doll." He jests, the nurse turns to glance at you and smiles fondly.

"Your fella is just fine dear, try and keep him on a shorter leash next time." She chuckles as she stands and dusts off her pretty green skirt, James follows, wincing as he stands.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the implication that James is yours, while he wears a very satisfied smirk at the idea. You swallow thickly and give her a silent nod. James thanks her sweetly for checking him, she says something back to him but you've completely zoned out. Her comment has senr you into a state of utter confusion. Is he your fella? No, you never established that. He did call you his girl though, so that would make him your fella. On top of that, what happened on the roof after Coney Island doesn't just happen between friends, not even friends with benefits. The way he held you so tightly, the way he littered kisses down your spine. Those aren't things you share with someone that doesn't belong to you.

The nurse politely ducks away to go back into the diner with the rest of the onlookers. Leaving you and James to stand alone in the dimly lit parking lot. His jaw looks much worse for wear, the skin is so angry and red. He'll definitely have a bruise, an ugly one at that. James lets out a long sigh, staring down at you with those big blue eyes. Despite it all, the idiot is still smiling. You scowl up at him, you cross your arms and lean to one side, refusing to let him crack you.

"You mad at me?" He asks timidly, he gives you an exaggerated pout while he lifts a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear.

You don't say a word. Of course you're mad at him. He scared you half to death, all for what? Just so he could feel like the tough guy? To prove a point to you? To prove a point to himself? He must have known the fight would end with him beat or worse and he has gall to ask if you're mad?

"Hey." He breathes, his hand comes to rest under your chin so he can tilt your face up with his knuckles. The gesture makes your heart flutter wildly.

"I get it, that was stupid, could've gotten hurt much worse and all that." He says, his eyes are gentle and attentive.

You huff and blink up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

"He just- he came in there talkin' all that shit about you bein' his. It pissed me off is all, you're not his. You're not really anybody's- I mean, I'd like to make you mine- but not in the way he meant. I don't want to own you, I wanna love you, doll. I wanna keep you safe and make you laugh and get my ass beat in skee ball and do all that other cheesy crap. I know I fucked up so badly, but baby please-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his little rant, the second he calls you baby your hands fly to the sides of his face. As it always does with him, your body moves separate from your mind. You smash your lips into his and you feel his hands settle on your waist, clutching you like you're going to float away at any second. That same baffling electricity thrums through your body as your lips move against each other. The rhythm of the kiss is like an echo of the one you shared on the roof. It has the same tide like push and pull, each of you giving and taking from each other in perfect unison. His lips are soft and urgent against yours, his grip solid and grounding. His hands slide towards each other behind you so his arms can find their home around your waist. The feeling makes you sigh against his lips. After months of being without this feeling, after only having it once, all you've done is want it back and now you have it again.

The kiss only breaks so you can both breathe, foreheads still pressed together, wanting to stay as connected as possible. He smiles down at you, it's a beautiful dopey grin. The look he's giving you makes a shiver run up your spine.

"You wanna go skinny dipping?" You ask, absolutely shocked at your own words.

What the hell? Did Molly fucking possess you? He scoffs and ducks down so his eyes are level with yours.

"Do I wanna what?!" He starts cracking up, and you can't help but join him, the absurdity of it all getting to you.

You can't help but think why the hell not. After all of this, all the confusion and the hurt, you two deserve a night like you shared months ago. Maybe you're an idiot, maybe you're only acting based on an emotional response to what James has done for you tonight. But fucking hell, why not just put it all behind you and live a little? James wants to be yours, he wants you to be his. You need to just let it be and stop fighting the way you both keep hurtling towards each other. So yeah, you want to go skinny dipping. It's the most impulsive, idiotic thing you can think of, and you've always wanted to try it.

"I think you know my answer." He chuckles.

"Let go then." You say quickly, turning on your heels so you can head to the truck before you change your mind.

"Woah kid wait up." He calls out to you while he laughs as he follows.

You reach the truck and swing the door open so you can hop in, he scrambles in as you frantically shove the keys in and crank it into gear.

"Hey." His soft voice snaps you out of your manic state. Your eyes dark to his and you feel your breathing slow down some.

"How 'bout we save the skinny dipping for another time?" He asks, voice soft and steady.

You just nod, becoming aware of how hard you were trying to be light-hearted and fun to mask how overwhelmed you're feeling.

"We don't have to move so fast, doll. We did last time and it didn't go so well, I don't wanna mess up this time." He says, his silvery eyes don't leave yours for a second.

Your head moves up and down silently again, you pull some air into your lungs slowly. He's right. You're trying too hard to make everything ok again. You just want to feel like you did on the roof, you want to be free of all the shit that's happened. James has a point though, you've both learned what happens when things move too quick for you both to keep track of it all. You have to be careful with it this time. Careful and boring are often mistakingly paired together, but not with James. It's undeniable that what you have with him is irreplaceable, which makes it all the more critical that you both handle this like it's made of glass.

"So, what do you want to do?" Your voice is so small, almost unrecognizable.

"I want to dance with you." He states, making your heart soar.

"Like, back at the dance hall?" You ask, the stress evident in your voice.

"God no, we can go to my house." He says it like it's obvious.

"Won't your family mind?" The idea of meeting them now makes you extremely anxious. It would be rather awkward to show up to meet his mother for the first time while he's wearing a shiner you half gave him.

"My Ma and my sister are at my aunt's house." He explains, his voice is laced with a tentative tone.

"Oh…" You exhale gently, understanding the situation.

"Only if you want to, I promise I'll behave." His tone shifts to something slightly taunting.

You can't help but smile, he's always quite the charmer.

"What fun would that be?" You chuckle, "Take me home, Bucky."

The nickname makes him smile in the most dazzling way, it stays glued to his face almost the whole way to his house.

James' House

You pull up to the front of an adorable little white house. It's very sweet looking, very simple and quaint. As the engine dies you glance over at James, he's looking at the house with a very solemn, spaced out gaze. Instinctively, you reach out and grab his hand, sliding your fingers between his own.

"I know…" You say as gently as you can. It's his dad, you know because you wear that look far too often. James just nods slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. You don't dare speak again, you just hold his hand. You don't need to say anything, you don't ever want people to say anything when you have the same feeling. All you can do is sit and understand him. Your chest fills with a horrible ache at the sight, but you're also filled with a strange relief. You aren't alone, and he isn't either. You have each other, you know each other, you get to love each other.

He lets the air fall out of his chest, face softening as he does.

"Thank you, doll." His eyes meet yours and he offers you a weak smile.

"Let's go inside." He says. He walks around to help you out of the truck, offering his hand like a gentleman. You want to slap it away out of instinct, but tonight is different.

He helps you down then wraps his hand around yours as he leads you up the sidewalk.

Before he opens the door he presses a kiss on the side of your head. It's quick and soft, and very different from the way he's kissed you before. Every other time it's felt like he prepared for it, and you had time to brace for it. This time it feels like he's used to doing it, like it's a natural thing.

The house is exactly what you would anticipate the home of a widow to look like. Decorated with lace doilies, soft blankets draped on the couch, and delicate lamps that cast a fuzzy yellow haze over the room. The living room is right off of the front door, and the kitchen is just an extension of it. A cute little staircase is on the left wall leading up to what you can only imagine is an equally quaint upstairs.

James walks confidently into his home, straight for the record player. As he fiddles with it you wander over to the fireplace. The mantle is littered in beautiful family photos, just like at your house. His father is in many of them, kissing his mom, holding a young James on his shoulder, cradling a baby you assume must be James' sister. He was handsome like James, but their faces aren't identical, you can see where his face is a balance of the two individuals. Your chest burns with remorse, knowing that these pictures serve as the only thing they have left of the man they all loved so well.

You startle just a little when James wraps his arms around your waist from behind, but relax when he presses a kiss into the side of your neck.

"It's alright, doll." He mumbles. You don't know if he says it for you or for him, but it doesn't matter. You let yourself sink further into the comfort of being known so well by James.

The music pops into existence, a gentle rhythm fills the room. The song is made of soft trumpets and strings, it's a beautiful, romantic melody. Something you would expect old lovers to sway to in their living room. You and James have the lovers part down, you just need to grow old and have your own living room. Is that even in the cards for you two? You sure as hell hope it is. You remember your realization on the roof that night, thinking about how if love isn't like what you two have, you don't want to love at all.

The feeling suffocates you as he spins you around in his arms. His eyes see right through you as his hands find their home on your waist while your arms slide around his neck.

"I love you doll, I never stopped." He breathes with an urgent look in his eyes.

He starts to sway with you around the living room as you gaze up at him completely dumbfounded. Of course he loves you, and you love him. Yes, you have so much left to learn about each other, but my God has James stolen your heart. Ever since you two left that classroom, you've been consuming each other's thoughts. You've been willing yourselves to try and understand the electricity that sparks between you. It's been so fucking messy, but now that you're in his arms again, dancing like an old married couple, you finally understand it all.

"I love you too…" You say it so softly it's almost not heard, but James catches it.

That dazzling smile spreads across his face, it's contagious nature making your own lips split into a grin.

"Would my outstanding skills in the bedroom have anything to do with that?" He says with a sickly sweet voice.

"James!" You laugh and slap his arm. He throws his head back to let out a playful laugh, the sound sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach.

"I wouldn't know what your skills are like in the bedroom anyway, I only know what they're like on a roof." You joke.

"We could change that." He says, his voice taking on a much lower tone.

You both freeze and stare into each other's eyes. The air around you feels so thick and the room starts to blur a little, everything except James.

Then you're on each other. Your lips crash together and your hands snag whatever they can. You let out a whiney noise from the back of your throat, which only spurs James on more. His hand grabs at your waist and he licks at your bottom lip. His actions inspire a wonderful heat to settle in your stomach, the feeling gives you confidence you've never felt before. You slide your hands up his chest to grasp his collar, silently begging him to come closer. The two of you break for air for only a second, eyes glued to each other as you pant and try to comprehend the fire growing between you.

"What are you waiting for, Bucky?" You tease.

A wild look spreads in his eyes and a wide grin overtakes his handsome face. Before you can make another witty comment, James brings his strong hands to the backs of your thighs and hoists you up so you can wrap your legs around him. You let out a shocked giggle but gladly welcome his choice to hold you like this. Now level with his face, you throw your arms around his shoulders and place a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. He wrinkles his face dramatically and let's out a low chuckle.

"I'm gonna drive you wild, doll." He responds with all the confidence in the world.

Of course, his words make your chest ache with desire, your thighs involuntarily squeeze him a little tighter. With the natural push and pull that you two have, his body responds to your actions without thought. He lets his hands slide up to hold your thighs dangerously close to the swell of your ass, fire spreading to your center as he does.

"That's some big talk." You mumble, blinking at him slowly.

"It sure is." His eyes wander down to your lips, not even a second passes before you're on each other again. He damn near kisses the breath out of your lungs this time, his soft, skilled lips make you head spin and all you can do is hold on tight.

"Can I take you to my room?" He asks against your lips. His voice has a gentle, begging tone to it that makes you shiver.

"Please." You sigh as you let your hands slide into the soft hair on the back of his head. He kisses you hard and walks blindly up the stairs, then he's kicking the door open to what you can only assume is his room. You feel your body falling then feel your back meet a soft mattress. Bucky settles easily between your legs and your heart races when you feel how hard he is already. His hot mouth is on your neck instantly, painting your skin with needy kisses.

"Can I take this off of you?" He mumbles while he pulls at the fabric of your dress.

You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm.

"Gettin' right into it, huh?" You say.

He brings his hand up so he can hold your face and run his thumb across your cheek bone. His eyes are soft but determined as he studies your face.

"I don't wanna waste any more time." He says simply, the phrase is loaded with months of longing. His confession dazzles you, leaving you laying there with no idea how to breathe. All you can do is nod in understanding and revel in the feeling of his wet kisses against your neck again. He gently hikes your dress up to your waist, then quickly brings his hands back down so he can run them up your thighs. His hands settle on your hips, thumbs pressing on the bones so he can pin you down slightly as he rolls his hips against your center.

Your hands instinctively claw at his broad back as a hiss leaves your lips.

"Let me get on top." You sigh, completely shocking yourself with your boldness.

You feel him smile against your collar bone before his hands glide up to hold your waist. He flips you both over with ease, granting you your wish without argument. You catch your breath as you settle on his lap, hands splayed across his chest.

"I'm all yours, doll." His eyes fall down your body sinfully, making your chest seize up and your legs squeeze around him.

You lean down to capture his lips in yours again, sighing contentedly when he moves against you like he did when you kissed for the first time on the roof.

"I missed you." You mutter against his mouth.

"Let's make up for that, yeah?" He replies quickly as he moves to pull your dress over your head. You lift your arms and let him undress you as you sit back. Soon the dress is out of the way and his warm hands are holding your waist again, thumbs brushing up and down against your skin. You become suddenly ashamed of your lackluster underwear and you feel your cheeks heat up as you watch James' eyes skate down your figure. As if he senses you unease, he sits up and snakes his arms around your waist. He presses a delicate kiss into the swell of each of your breasts as you card your fingers through his hair.

"You're so perfect." He whispers against your skin.

"Can I take this off?" He asks, bringing his thumbs up to hook his fingers around your bra straps.

Somehow, everything about this feels even more innocent than the first time you two made love. Maybe it's the knowledge that you don't have to show off, talk dirty, or have all the hot moves in order to impress each other. You're both just enchanted by the presence of one another. Finally, you're both able to just be together. There's no fear of what people will say about you in school tomorrow, no terrifying rumor hanging over your head. Just you and James, able to lose yourselves completely in this wonderful moment you've found.

You carefully undress each other, leaving tender kisses on any newly exposed skin, whispering sweet nothings as well as declarations of devotion. You cherish every second that passes as you explore each other's bodies again. Soon you're both fully exposed to each other, your hands grasp desperately at his shoulder as soon as you feel his erect length graze your core. You think back to how his lips felt between your legs, and you immediately want to repay the favor. You slink down his body until you settle between his legs. His abs tense as you slide your palms up his muscular thighs.

You know Bucky is big, especially after last time, but being face to face with his dick makes you realize his size is genuinely intimidating. He looks beautiful like this, all flushed and hard. His tip is a pretty shade of dark pink, similar to his lips, and there's a small bead of precum leaking out of his slit. The sight makes you clench your thighs and lick your lips.

"See somethin' you like?" He teases.

"I sure do." You flirt back, wasting no time in wrapping your hand around his length to give him one slow pump. He throws his head back with as you bring your lips to his tip and give it a chaste kiss.

"Tell me if I do something wrong, please." You say, the tremble in your voice revealing just how nervous you really are.

James shoots up instantly, grabbing the wrist of the hand that's around his dick while the other comes up to cup your face. His thumb slides across your cheek bone affectionately as he stares at you with his kind blue eyes.

"Doll, if you're not ready for that, don't do it." His voice is like rich hot chocolate, spreading through your body and warming every nerve.

"But, last time you- I figure I owed you…" It makes sense in your head, but by the look he gives you it doesn't make any sense to him.

"Baby," He breathes out, leaning in to kiss your forehead, "Come here."

With gentle hands he pulls you into his lap so you can straddle him while he takes your face in his hands, gazing up at you with intensity.

"Anything I do for you, is because I want to. You don't owe me a damn thing. If you're ever not ready for something you tell me, and we can talk about it, ok?" His voice has a hint of urgency to it, like he can't stress the words enough.

You nod silently as you try to understand the man beneath you. Your brain desperately claws through your vocabulary to find the words to best describe the beautiful human being you've fallen for. All you can come up with is something terribly insufficient, but incredibly accurate. He's kind. He's a "heart if gold" kind of guy. Under the charm, the handsome face, the quick witted humor, James Barnes is the kindest person you've ever met.

Your lips are on his before he can say anything else, following that involuntary reaction you've developed whenever you're around him. He kisses you back as fiercely as you kiss him, heavy breaths falling from his mouth as you work against one another. You can't help but whimper when you feel the hot skin of his dick slide along your drenched core.

"Make love to me, James, please-" You beg against his lips.

All he can manage is a moan against your mouth as he reaches down between you to grab himself so he can get lined up at your entrance. He opens his mouth to say something, but it's stolen from him as you inch down to slide the tip in. A beautiful, lustful sigh leaves his puffy lips as you do. It's still a harsh stretch for your walls, but this time you can anticipate it and welcome it. Slowly, you descend until he's in you completely. As soon as he's bottomed out you lean your forehead on his shoulder and let out a pitiful whine.

"You ok, doll?" He asks, nudging his nose against your jaw.

"I'm good, you're just so big…" You sigh. His grip on your waist tightens and you feel him twitch inside you.

"Careful sweetheart, don't want this ego getting any bigger." He teases, earning an airy giggle from you.

You brace yourself by holding his shoulders, rolling your hips tentatively. He kisses your neck when you do so and slides his arms around your waist, so you must be doing something right. You mimic the movement with a little more confidence this time. You can't help but bring your head up and send James a nervous glance, and he's more than willing to reassure you.

"That's good baby, that feels good." He says with a voice like honey as he skates his lips across your neck.

His praising words make your insides melt, spurring you on as you keep rolling against him. The way the soft skin of his dick moves against your soaked walls in euphoric. Your hands cling to each other, lips kiss where the can, short breaths fall from your mouth. All of it creates a truly beautiful atmosphere. It's nothing like the urgent, frantic mood you had last time. This doesn't feel like two teenagers who can't wait to see somebody naked for the first time. This feels like two people who want to be uncovered by each other.

His hands slide so he can spread his palms across your damp back and you shiver from the feather soft intimacy of the motion. Your forehead falls against his and your eyes lock.

"You're incredible." You sigh as brilliant sparks of pleasure start to build in your core.

You slowly build the pace of your hips until you're rocking against him with a rhythm that makes his nails claw at your back as he groans and pants. He's so deep inside you, reaching and rubbing against every sweet spot you have.

"Fuck- that's perfect doll- so fucking perfect." His voice has climbed in pitch slightly, he sounds almost whiney.

Your head falls to his shoulder, you shove your mouth against his collarbone in an attempt to muffle a pitiful sob as it shakes your abdomen. The feelings are all so fucking intense, your eyes screw shut as your walls start to flutter. Your chest aches as your head spins, completely incapable of comprehending all of the sensations drowning you in this moment.

"James- James I'm gonna-" Your words are cut off completely as one of his strong arms easily cradles you so he can flip you onto your back. You hit the mattress and he doesn't give you a single second to catch your breath before he's rocking his hips against yours.

"Fucking hell." You huff out as he plants his hands on either side of your head so he can bare down even more when he thrusts.

"I wanna see you, wanna see that pretty face." Both of you moan uncontrollably when you spread your legs even more to give him better access. Soon he's hitting some rapturous spot deep within you, setting off every nerve in your body.

Tears gather in your eyes and it takes every ounce of self control you have to not succumb to the desire to start crying beneath him. His body is moving so beautifully above you, every muscle working to give you everything he has. Your eyes burn with the tears you refuse to let fall as you pull your bottom lip into your mouth to keep another sob caged inside you.

"Baby, don't hide anything." He says with a broken voice as he drops to his elbows so he can bring his face closer to your own.

"Cry if you need to, I got you." He punctuates his sentence with a stunning moan, and it absolutely breaks you. Your body trembles as you finally release all the emotion you've been suppressing. Your back arches and you finally let the tears cascade down the sides of your face. The sight of you falling apart beneath him, so fragile and overstimulated, it motivates him even more. His pace increases as he chants nonsense phrases of adoration to you.

He tells you how beautiful you are, how tight you feel, how good you are for him. All while your entire body quakes for him and his magnificent pace. You don't want to say his thrusts are hard, that word seems so utterly insufficient for how he's making love to you right now. His movements are committed, he fills you up with every push in and leaves you wanting so much more every time he draws back out.

"Baby you feel so good- fuck- please don't stop." You beg him as your cunt starts to pulse around him again, body edging towards that blinding release.

"No fuckin' way, I'm never gonna stop." He pants while his thick eyebrows push towards each other as his face crumples into a look of intense focus.

He braces himself on one arm so he can snake a skilled hand between your bodies, thumb finding your swollen clit almost immediately. It hits you immediately, almost before he even touches your sensitive bud. Your body anticipates his touch and sends itself over the edge, and my God it's fucking brilliant. Your pussy grips onto his cock as it slides in and out, your hands claw at his hot skin as his name falls from your lips. You sing him a pitiful song, made of incoherent swearing and plenty of crying.

"That's it sweet girl, give it to me- shit you're squeezin' the life outta me." You barely retain the words as he spits them out between frantic breaths as he chases his own high.

In one fluent motion, James flips your legs over each of his shoulders. He grabs the meat of your hips and lifts your pelvis off the bed as he brings his torso upright so he can settle back on his knees. If you thought you were crying before, you were fucking wrong. You scream out as tears flood your face, you can't tell if you're hurtling into another orgasm before your first has even finished, or if it's all just one long, mind numbing climax. Regardless, it's too good to be true. Every inch of you tingles and clenches as James snaps his hips into you, the angle sends fluorescent jolts of pleasure into your cunt and up your abs.

"Yeah doll, keep cumming for me, you feel so fuckin' perfect." He tosses his head back as he nearly shouts your name.

Your body starts to cool down just enough to provide some clarity. You're still twitching and tears are still rolling, but you at least have the wits to throw some praises at him. It's the least you can do when he's working so hard to make you fall apart.

"Fuck James, you made me cum so hard." Your words have an affect on him instantly, his fingertips bite at your flesh as hips tense and you feel his cock twitch inside you.

"You make me feel so good baby, you drive me fuckin' crazy." He lets go of your hips and throws your legs apart so he can fall on top of you again. He presses his forehead against yours before his lips meet your own so he can kiss you like it's the last time he'll ever have the chance.

"Let me feel you cum James- fuck- do it inside me, I want you to cum inside me." Your hands are at the sides of his face, thumbs rubbing his temples affectionately as you lose your mind.

"Oh baby- shit doll- I'm gonna- oh my God- Fuck!" With that final exclamation he buries himself inside you, enchanting moans fall from his full lips as he tenses and fills you. You hold still and focus on the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you as he moans above you. His sounds are so full of relief and what must be exhaustion. Your eyes flutter open to observe him while he finishes. His eyebrows are high with his eyes shut and his lips parted as he tries to catch his breath while his orgasm fizzles out. His eyelids slowly peel apart and soon you're both watching each other. You're completely enthralled by the work of art above you, and he is entirely captured by the muse below him.

Slowly, like he doesn't want to ever leave, he inches his softening length out of you. You hate the feeling of him leaving your body, you hate how empty you feel. He presses a fond kiss to your forehead while he smooths some of your sweaty hair down.

"Don't move." He whispers. Then he's off of the bed and through his bedroom door, you assume to find something to get you both cleaned up.

Your body is still buzzing from every moment you've just shared with him, you gingerly roll to your side and pull the sheets up against your naked form. You pay little mind the mess spilling from your core, ignorant to the possible consequences it might have. You glance around his room, taking note of all the baseball cards, the toy cars, and the dirty sneakers. The room is bathed in the dull yellow streetlights, giving it a glow that seems otherworldly. It all does. Especially James.

He reappears with a washcloth and a glass of water. The sight makes your heart swell immeasurably, he's still naked but it doesn't strike you as anything to be bashful about. It's all of him, all of James and his unmatched beauty. It feels natural to be this exposed with each other, it feels right.

"Such a gentleman." You tease as he walks towards the bed so he can sit on the edge.

"For you? Of course." His smile is as dazzling as always while he hands you the glass of water. You prop yourself up on your elbows so you can take the glass and sip it slowly. Thankful for the relief the cold liquid brings your exhausted throat.

"Spread those gorgeous legs." He says as he takes the glass back from you so he can set it on the nightstand.

"Round two already?" You joke.

His laugh is full and rich, it spreads through your veins and makes adoration bubble in your chest.

"Not yet, doll." He presses the cloth between your folds to clean up his mess, the sensation makes you jump a little, but he's done as quickly as he's started. The cloth joins a pile of dirty clothes in the corner after he tosses over his shoulder, then he's climbing back into bed with you. He opens his arms once he's on his back beside you. Naturally, you settle into his side and lay your head on his chest. His fingers trace along your spine as he kisses the crown of your head.

"You're a beautiful little thing." He mumbles, voice heavy with a sleepy tone.

"You're perfect, just perfect." It almost sounds like he's talking in his sleep, so you glance up to check.

He's wide awake, glacial eyes piercing your own as he gazes down at you.

"Thank you, for all of this." You say. By all of it, you mean for the love, for the spark of life, for the precious bond you've found. Somehow without saying all of it, you know he knows exactly what you mean.

"Thank you for loving an idiot like me." He says softly.

"It couldn't be anybody else." You say, completely resolute in your admittance.

You lay there like that for God knows how long, just drinking each other in. Mumbling words of praise, astounded by each other's existence. You exchange sweet little jokes, press priceless kisses into every inch of skin you can reach, and make beautiful promises.

"James?" You say as you draw figure eights on his chest with your finger tip.

"What happens next?" You question.

He takes a deep breath in as he twirls your hair between his fingers.

"Well-" He's cut off by the sound of the front door opening. You both bolt upright off the bed, clinging to the sheets. The sounds of lovely, soft laughter fills the house. One is the laugh of a woman, full and warm, the other is bright and twinkly, obviously belonging to a younger girl.

"Shit." You whisper simultaneously as you glance at each other with pounding hearts.

"James?" The woman's voice calls.

"Yeah ma?" James hollers back, hand coming to hold yours as he tries to keep his mouth straight, obviously entertained by the misfortune of the situation.

"Whose truck is that out front?" She asks, then footsteps start to echo as she climbs the stairs.

"Oh my God." You whisper.

"I guess you're meeting my mom, that's what happens next." He says quietly. Your eyes are on his immediately, every reasonable part of you says to panic, but the look on James' face is absolutely priceless. His cheeks are pink as he pulls his lips over his teeth to keep from busting out in laughter. It's ok though, you do it for him. Soon you're both doubling over with laughter, embracing the inevitable awkward encounter that you're about to have with his poor mother. It'll be ok, it'll be wonderful, anything will as long as you two stick together.

Taglist:

@b-o-n-e-daddy @lillsrecs @all-art-is-quite-useless @brownlee-22 @peace-love-hobbitness @pinknerdpanda @supernaturalwintersoldier @can-i-sin-right-now @pennyroyalcreep @jessyballet @calwitch @aurora-sweet @learisa

#bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #bucky x reader #captain america #marvel smut #sebastian stan smut #winter solider x you #marvel

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