#realizing that hey...maybe this is ok. maybe this is really easy and comfortable and nice actually.

[crystallizedtwilight]

I don’t like crochawk (just more of an bughawk fan) but goddammit it was so hot… you changed me, opened my eyes. To say that both the art and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about shipping is a gross understatement. (Yeah it’s ratatouille quote)

Welcome aboard! 🏴‍☠️

[wafflesandd1ck]

OH GOD OK. long Teen Titans brain ramble cuz it's midnight again.

Does anybody else get INTENSE 03 Teen Titans RobStar vibes from "this side of paradise" by Coyote Theory?

I always wonder if we never got the kiss in trouble in tokyo, How would season 6 handle it? Honestly, I feel like "this side of paradise" really just matches the vibe perfectly that I always feel with these two.

Like there's so many lines that just scream out as an insomnia night conversation between Robin and Starfire, on the roof of Titans tower.

Like their shooting the shit, doing their best friend thing, and Starfire asks him, "Are you lonely?"

Robin is shaken, and he opens up to her. Slowly revealing more and more bits about himself. Teeny tiny droplets of vulnerability and our favorite alien meet each little crack in Robins armor with gentleness and light jokes, maybe stories to match her childhood.

Robin can't stop thinking about her question, "Are you lonely?"

Their time together is calm and comfortable and so easy. They end up talking for hours, pretty much all night.

until Starfire mentions the ferris wheel during their first 'not a date'. Robin laughs, and without realizing it, he puts his hand on Starfires. She doesn't draw attention to it.

He gently rubs one of his fingers against the top of her knuckles. It's a subconscious little tick. It's just nice for him to let the walls down, even if it's just this tiny bit.

Robin sees Starfire try her best to hide a yawn. He briefly panics. He desperately wants to keep talking. To let her in..

"Hey, star? Did I ever tell you I grew up in a circus?"

And just like that, an entire new set of stories. Robin tries his best to keep it all happy.

"I had a marshmallow belt to help train the monkeys!"

"..and that's how I learned to never taunt the ring leader."

"You've never seen fire jugglers OR sword swallowers?? In 3 phone calls, I can have a personal show in our living room. When's your birthday?"

"..yup. an acrobat. No human is naturally this flexible without practice. "

"Wanna see me do a walking hand stand?"

As the sun comes up, Starfire literally begins to glow. From the UV rays and just the general joy she feels from how this night turned out, her hair goes aflame from the newfound energy. She hovers up and takes it in. Robin is doing that "pretty girl brain rot." Thing. His new topic of conversation just dwindles out while he watches her.

A warm smile spreads on his face.

Their eyes meet.

[smuttyfang]

All Might, You Embarrass Yourself With Your Quirk

“"I'm big small might Simp but not an all might Simp (If I met him in his big form I'll most likely to feel uncomfortable or intimidated), and what makes some know that the reader likes him is cuz of an animal quirk? (cats with big pupil) and uncomfortable with all might (owls puffing up feather a bit not allot tho). I like the idea of the reader working in UA in someway. she mentally go to normal to BOOM! LOTS OF SEROTONIN! but tries her best to keep cool and not make a fool of herself (but kinda does) in front of small might no less I'm not sure if you take curtain quirk or hero costumes requests but I do like a loose hero custume for the reader (tight clothes makes me feel insecure tbh) and an a nocturnal animal quirk! If not thats ok 👌."

Words: 1,002

"This will be interesting!" You said, leaning over to your good friend, the hero Midnight.

"Oh yes, this one will be delicious." She said, seductively as usual. You stared at the large screen in front of you. You were both sitting with a few other staff members and students watching the first term final exam. Up next was Eraser's battle against Momo and Shoto. Shoto was always an interesting one during these battles. Before the match began, Midnight turned toward you. "So, have you given any more thought to it?"

"Well.." You had recently been introduced to some of the other teachers at U.A. by Midnight. At first it was simply as friends, but they all have really been pushing for you to be involved with the school, even becoming one of the teachers. "I have still been thinking about it. It's a big decision."

"I know, I know. But you could really help put these students in a good position." She giggled. "But seriously, I know your quirk would be useful for teaching them more silent but necessary skills. " She did have a point. Your quirk was useful for operations that required more delicate handling. Since you had the skills of an owl, and the wings, it was extremely easy for you to follow someone silently and stay quiet. You could turn your feet into owl like claws as well to hold yourself on branches and the sides of buildings. "You could also help students who have trouble with balance."

"Yes, I suppose that is true." You placed your fingers on your chin, humming to yourself and thinking. "Maybe, I'm just not sure that I.." You began to speak, but you heard the door to the room open and close. Before you realized it, All Might himself was standing right in front of you. He was wearing.. a suit? It didn't seem like he felt comfortable in it. He would awkwardly pull on his collar and try to pull it away from his neck. He looked at Midnight.

"Hey, Midnight. This a friend?" He gave you a very gentle smile. It felt like your heart jumped.

"Yes, she may be working here soon if I can finally convince her to." All Might sat down beside of you and held his hand out to you.

"We could use all the help we can get. It's nice to meet you then." You felt your wings lightly raise up and flutter, along with your heart. You shakily took his hand in yours and shook it. "Um.. Are you alright? Your wings are flapping." You realized you were creating somewhat of a breeze behind yourself because your wings kept flapping. Some papers flew about the room. You scrambled and tried to hold them down with your hands.

"I, uh.. yeah! That just happens sometimes! Hehe.." You were mortified. It felt like you were already making a complete fool of yourself in front of him.

"I see." He laughed. "You don't need to hide them, they're uh, nice." He rubbed the back of his head. You didn't expect that he would be a nervous type of person. Your wings fluttered even more hearing him say that to you, and you couldn't control them any longer after that. You blushed hard, pushing your face into Midnight's chest to hide. She giggled at you.

"So, did you change your mind about working here yet?" She asked you, slyly. Looking up at her still blushing madly, you whispered to her quietly.

"I definitely want to teach here." She giggled at you and grinned.

"Oh? Why the sudden change of heart, hmm?" She teased. She knew damn well what the reason was.

"Shut up." You pulled away from her, crossing your arms. You looked to All Might. His eyes were trained on the screen, watching the students. It was easy to see how much he cared for them. You tried to avoid staring, and continued with watching the match. Once that match had finished, All Might stood.

"I guess I should prepare for mine." He stretched his arms upward. "Would you like to walk with me?" You felt like screaming out loud you were so happy.

"Oh, absolutely!" You said excitedly. He held his hand out to you to help you up, like a true gentleman. "Thank you.." He really wasn't doing much of anything, but it was still making your heart race. You both began walking out of the room and down the hall together.

"So, you are going to teach then?" He asked.

"I believe so, yes." You nodded. "If I can have the patience, I will do my best."

"You will learn how to have it quickly and easily, I'm sure." He smiled at you. "Then I will be happy to see you in action."

"I definitely don't have anything flashy, but I think some of the things I know are quite practical." You rubbed the back of your neck. "I just hope I can teach, I've never done anything like this before."

"Maybe we could discuss teaching methods, I'm still fairly new to this whole teaching thing." He laughed. You both approached the door to exit and head outside. Steam started rolling off of his body.

"That would be nice, once I get started anyways." His body started to grow larger.

"Over coffee?" He asked, still with a normal and gentle voice.

"I would love that." His transformation was finished, and his appearance was now that of the #1 hero.

"Well, I'll see you soon, then!" He jumped off the ground, laughing loudly, headed toward the battlefield for his match with his students.

AO3

[sgt-scottymoreau]

"I've tried to move on, but no one else makes me feel the way you do." For Camy and Ghost 😘💚

Prompt list

Went in the angst territory here. Not too much, but just enough >:3

Warning: None

Words: 843

Their breakup had been a mutual understanding. They both had agreed to end things, on good terms. With their line of work and the fear of eventually not being able to keep their promise that their feelings wouldn't interfere in a situation, it seemed best like this. Here and there, there was some slip up in some old habits, but they made sure to watch themselves.

This went on for a month. It was hard in the beginning because obviously they still loved each other. Hell, when Scotty dared to try to return on the date board, it felt weird. In the end, their new status made everything awkward and hard to work around, so Scotty made a big decision. Return home. If the 141 needed her she would be more than happy to come back or team up with them again.

Another month has passed since. Returning back to her previous PMC wasn't too hard to adapt. That was the easy part. The hard part was to pretend that all the feelings she still had were nothing, that eventually they will fade away. She tried again, a little hard pushing herself even when she didn't feel too much like it, to date again. It made her fall back into some old habits. Some dates ended up in a simple one night stand, others were good. It felt like there was a connection, maybe it could work. Yet, it wasn't the same thing. They were nice people really, but there was that little something missing. A little something only Ghost made her feel. True to be told, he had been the one in a long time to remind her what romance, love was.

The day at work had been hard today. Add the most depressing weather of all year around; rain and grey. When Scotty finally found the warmth and comfort of home, she was more than happy about it. A quick change of clothes into something more comfortable and she began to contemplate what had to be done. A lot. For instance, make dinner. Cleaning up the pile of clothes and washing could wait another day or two. Feeling how empty the place was, Scotty turned on the radio to fill the void. However, it added another layer of regret. It reminded her when she would be cooking with Ghost. She never realized how the little mundane thing had changed and meant more to her. With a heavier heart than she wished for, she pushed through the evening.

Sat in front of the tv, letting whatever program was running in the background, Scotty's thumb hovered above the send button. She had written at least three four lines, every time erasing it and trying once more with a different wording, but it was never what she wanted. It didn't sound exactly the way she wanted it to be. Her thumb slowly raised to the direct call button above. Perhaps that would be better. Nothing beats the emotions of the voice. Half prepared for the call, she pressed the button. Only realized she pressed the video call option, when her face showed on the screen. Oh, so be it.

"Hey." He wasn't wearing his mask. Meant he was probably home.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Just this small introduction felt awkward.

"I'm good. Why do you call?"

She regretted the video call. There was no way for her to hide whatever face she wanted to make or be able to hide her emotions behind a fake tone. Her eyes avoided the screen as much as possible. "Have you ever made a decision and regretted it?"

He remained silent for a second or two, thinking. "Depends on the context. But I do."

"What about something recent?"

"Sc- Camille, just spit it out."

"Ok, ok. Was it a mistake to break up? Maybe we shouldn't have. I mean I know why we did, but... did we really have to? No way could we have worked it out?"

She noticed his shoulders slacking. "I thought we both accepted it was for the best."

"We did but... You know... To be honest, I try to return to the dating game. I thought it would help get over the feelings I still had for you. That if I was seeing someone else, I could be around you really as a friend. What I mean is I've tried to move on, but no one else makes me feel the way you do."

He stayed silent for a moment. Longer than the previous time. It was probably a lot to take in. She did admit she was looking for someone else not long after their breakup. But it was the truth. That love, the romance, the yearning, it was only Ghost who made her feel that way. A connection she only had with him. "Do you want to come back here?" He had a smile on his face as he patted the seat near to him on the couch.

"I would love that."

"Alright, when is the next train to London?"

[lulubelle814]

Just Dizziness - Chapter 32

Waking up, a heat could be felt along my back, warm breath on my neck, a heavy arm across my abdomen in a tight but comforting hold that helped chase away some of the lingering memories of last night’s nightmare.  I don’t know what I’d do if he forgot me.  I suppose it gives me some tiny inkling of what he’s been going through perhaps.  I don’t know that I could really ever imagine it or understand how he’s felt through all of this.  His seemingly never ending patience and love has been what’s helped keep me as together as I have been.  I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Looking at the clock and then the calendar, I realized my first therapy day is finally here. I couldn't quite decipher how I was feeling about it. Anxiety? Excitement? Fear? I don't know. I just know I can't go on living like this. Tom has been extremely supportive but this is no way for either of us to live. He can’t keep putting off his work, and we can’t keep pretending on the good days that there’s not a problem, as much as I would like to.

“I can hear you thinking.  It’s too early for that.”

Rather than respond, I turn over and tuck my head into his chest, pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist, at least for the moment.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Electing to not respond, I burrowed further into his chest, if that was even possible, and wrapped my arms around him.  I would have run my hands under his shirt, but he only had his boxer briefs on.  So I tried to squish myself as close to him as I could, taking in as much of his touch and smell as possible.

“Talk to me, love.  I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

I knew he was right.  “I don’t know why, but I’m anxious about the appointment today.”

Placing his arms around me, he rested his chin on my head.  “I’m pretty sure that’s normal.  This is something new, and it’ll be talking and tackling some really tough things.  It won’t be easy, but I think it’ll help a lot, and I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” his voice sounding reassuring.

I looked up enough to gently kiss him.  It seemed he always knew what to say, how to help me feel better. 

After a while, we finally pried ourselves out of bed for some tea and breakfast.  While Tom made the tea, I made pancakes.  “I love your pancakes.  Hell, I love anything you make.”

“You’re the better cook here, and we both know that.”

As he wrapped his arms around me from behind, he responded, “lies, and you know that.”

"My dear husband, calling me a liar? My, oh my.  I think you forgot the incident of the brownies?"

"To be fair, it was a new recipe, and the pages got stuck together. "

"Don't forget about the garlic bread?"

"That could have happened to anyone."

"Three times??"

"Ok, so you can't make garlic bread. Big deal."

"There's also the creme brulee." 

"You are still not allowed near a torch. Ok, I get your point, but you try, and that's what I love. You make so many things so well."  And with that, he kissed me on the temple, effectively saying the conversation was over.

Half way through breakfast, a buzzing noise startled both of us out of our breakfast bliss.  He checked his phone.  “Not me.”  Puzzled, I looked at my phone.  “Who could possibly be texting me?”  After a moment, I found my phone back in the kitchen next to the stove and brought it back to the table.

Emma: Good morning! 

Sophie: Hey Ladies!

Emma: Lunch tomorrow?

“It’s your sister!  She’s wanting to get together for lunch tomorrow. Looks like she's invited Sophie as well.“

“That sounds like fun!  Lunch with the girls.”

Sophie: I'll have to check in with hubs to see if he can watch the kids but maybe. I could use some kid free girl time. 

“I don’t know tho….” I felt hesitant.  While it felt nice to be invited out, I didn’t know about going somewhere involving people who knew me but that I couldn’t remember.

“If you’re not comfortable with it, that’s ok.  I’m sure they’d understand.  Emma has some idea of what’s going on.  You could text or call her separately, and she’d happily cover for you, or I could talk to Ben who could talk to Sophie.  I’m sure Sophie would understand.  Plus we have that appointment with Dr. Bertram this afternoon.  This could be a good thing to bring up to her and ask her how to handle it.  For now though, if you don’t want to, let Emma know, or I can.  Or we can make plans and use that to let them know you’re not available.”

I couldn’t help but grin as he prattled on, listing idea after idea to help me feel more comfortable.  All of his suggestions and ideas helped me feel at least somewhat better.  I know I have to figure out how to handle this at some point, but having his support is incredible.

“Didn’t we….uhhhh…..didn’t we talk about maybe going to the art museum?”  I suggested.

“You know what, I believe we did.  That and a bookstore, or two, I think you had heard about?  In fact, I think we have talked a bit about a few things, and tomorrow is a fantastic day to accomplish them.”  He gave his million dollar smile before giving a loving kiss and clearing the table as we had finished breakfast.  I couldn’t have asked for a better husband.

Me: So sorry. Have plans with Tom. Raincheck?

I responded to Emma and Sophie and set myself a reminder to maybe talk to Emma later about my reservations about getting together with both her and Sophie. Maybe I can ask Dr. Bertram about this, if not this afternoon then the following appointment?  I know I can't hide forever.

It didn’t take 2 minutes before my phone started ringing.  Seeing Emma’s name on the screen, I knew why she was calling.

“It’s Emma, isn’t it?  I swear she’s a mind reader, the next Psychic Sally.”

"I’m so sorry.  It’s too soon, isn’t it?"

I could hear her starting her washer in the background. Must be her laundry day which reminded me of the laundry I needed to do. I headed upstairs to gather the dirty laundry as I started responding to her. "I’m not even going to ask how you knew."

"I remembered our conversation from dinner at mum’s and put 2 and 2 together.  I’m sorry to have put you in an awkward position." Her voice sounded both hesitant and remorseful. 

"It’s ok Em.  You were just trying to do something nice, and I appreciate that.  It’s just….." I wasn't entirely sure how to continue that sentence, the laundry basket now hanging half full on my hip. 

"No, I get it.  I’d feel weird too having lunch with someone who knew me but couldn’t remember them.  If you change your mind though, the invitation is open.  If you ever want to get together, just you and me, I’m always up for lunch, dinner, shopping, etc." She sounded much more hopeful now. 

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and continued filling the basket. 

"Thanks, Em.  It’s not that I don’t want to get together with the 3 of us at some point, and I know I can’t hide forever.  Just so much to process still. Tom and I have our first appointment with the therapist this afternoon, and I’m so nervous with that alone."

‘It’s completely ok.  I’m always here if you want to talk, any time.  Maybe we could go for breakfast tomorrow before you and Tom go out on your newly planned adventure?’

I couldn’t help but laugh as I headed to the laundry room with an overly full basket of dirty laundry.

‘I think Tom and I can plan around you and I having breakfast.  Let's say 8? I'll pick you up? ’

"Sounds fantastic.  See you tomorrow!"

"And don't worry about Sophie.  It doesn't look like she'll be able to make it, but if she does, I'll cover for you. "

"Thanks again Em."

With that, I hung up the phone and started throwing laundry in the machine. Tom even brought the sheets while the washer ran the first load and placed new ones on the bed.

5 hours and 4 loads of laundry later, it was time to start getting ready. 

It was as if he could sense the anxiety seeping back in and wrapped his arms around me, giving a tight hug.  “I just finished putting the laundry away so we can relax after our appointment which will go well.  If it doesn’t, we don’t have to go back.”

I looked up at him as I responded, “promise?”

His chest rumbled as he let out a low chortle.  “I promise.  We can always find someone else should we decide to continue.”

Looking up at him, I was still feeling a bit unsure, and he responded in kind.  “I will also treat you to ice cream afterwards, regardless of how the appointment goes.”

“I’m holding you to that mister.”

We both wanted to make a good impression.  So Tom wore his signature blue sweater with his jeans and gray suede shoes while I wore one of my cable knit sweaters with skinny jeans and brown knee high boots as it was getting colder outside.  Plus, I could fidget with the sleeves throughout the drive there and during the appointment.

It felt like we were already at her door in the blink of an eye.  Her assistant, Julie, was extremely nice, offering us a beverage (water, tea, or coffee) while we waited, which thankfully wasn’t more than a few minutes.  Dr. Bertram opened the door to her office and had a warm smile on her face.  “Good afternoon!  You must be Mr. and Mrs. Hiddleston.  It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

I already felt comfortable with her, just by her presence alone.  She wasn’t super tall, about my height.  What I loved was both her hair and her outfit.  She had this beautiful teal dyed hair that hit just past her shoulders and her outfit was incredible: a white shirt with black angled lines, muted, wide leg yellow pants, and black sandal type shoes. I don't know why I thought she would be older with some type of stuffy outfit and thick rimmed glasses.  I just hope she isn't the kind who just responds with "and how do you feel about that?"

We introduced ourselves before she guided us over to an incredibly comfortable couch. 

"So to start off, I know formalities say to call me Dr. Bertram. There are those who prefer that because either they feel more comfortable calling me that or because that's part of what they're paying for. If you'd like, you can call me Natalie or Nat if that feels more comfortable. I really don't have a preference. "

Tom jumped right in.  “Thank you so much Dr. Bertram.  That’s very generous of you.  I’m as we get to know you, we’ll figure out what we feel more comfortable with.”  And with that, he gave a light smile, signaling that he was almost as nervous as me.

“Before we get started, let's run through what the basics are along with the options.  As I’m sure you read, and my assistant should have also given you the information, we can meet here as well as your home or other locations depending on preference and need.  Depending on the situation and such, we would meet one or more times a week, some may be with both or some with just you,” she said as she gestured to me, “based on the information sent over; however, that all depends on if you choose to proceed with me and vice versa.  I know there's anxiety over trying to find the right therapist.  If you feel I may not be the right one for you, I promise there are no hard feelings and would be more than happy to help you look for another one.  The same is true if I feel I realize I am not the right one for you as well.  The goal is you and your well-being, not to try and make me happy or force it to work with a therapist who is not truly helping you.  Sometimes you’ll know right away, but it can also take a few sessions.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding as I laid my head against Tom’s shoulder, him returning the sentiment.  In doing so, the muscles in his arms and neck start to slowly relax.  

Before Tom could speak, I cut him off.  “Thank you so much.  We’ll definitely keep that in mind.  How long are the sessions?  How will we know where they will occur as well?”

“Excellent questions!  Sessions are typically 50 minutes; however, if agreed ahead of time and dependent on availability and circumstances, they can be longer as needed.  At the end of each session, we’ll agree on the time and place of the following session unless you would like to have a set time and place for upcoming sessions which can be adjusted as needed.

“I also wanted to let you know one other thing before we begin.  I am not one of those therapists who goes ‘and how do you feel about that’ about everything in our sessions.  I may ask it occasionally, but it’s not my style.  I know some prefer it.  If that’s what you are looking for, I can refer you to a couple of therapists…”

“NO!”  We practically shouted at her before she could finish, looking at each other to see who wanted to continue explaining, but I let Tom take the wheel on this one.  “That’s very much NOT what we’re looking for.  It’s one of the main reasons we would have eliminated you as a therapist, to be honest.  It annoys both of us to no end just thinking about it as it is not our style either.”

We all gave a low chuckle.  “So we’ve covered the basics.  If you have any questions at any time, feel free to ask.  If you’re okay with it, I’d like to dive into why you both came in today.  I’ve read the paperwork, but I’d like to hear it from both of you if that’s alright.”

This is it.  I took a deep breath before I began.

“Okay, where to begin…..”

She smiled and responded, “I find the beginning is usually best.”

“That might be the tricky part.  I guess the question then would be, which part is the beginning?”

Chapter 33

[mxchellesworld]

Discuss!

Spencer Reid x Reader

Synopsis; Where the team discusses the question ‘do you kiss after head’, you find out Spencer has too little experience to answer the question so you help him out

Warnings; smut, oral (male receiving), sub!spencer, praise, slight degradation 

a/n; LMAO im so sorry for disappearing again life has been actually kicking my ass but anyways lately i’ve been thinking about subby early season spence so here we go,, hope you enjoy!

***

Another Friday night and the team was out bar crawling after an easy case. But this time all members were there as it reached 11pm which was rare. Usually Hotch and JJ would have been home by 10:30 and Spencer wouldn’t have been there at all. But there was something light in the air which had all parties concerned sitting packed in a booth, laughing after each sip of their drinks. 

Since it wasn’t your first rodeo together you knew how the night went. It started off with Rossi offering to buy the first few rounds, always whiskey but he made an exception for Penelope. Then again who would deny her anything. 

Once the drinks were flowing and lips got a little loose, the questions would start popping in at the top of your heads. However these were not your run of the mill, ‘hows so and so doing?’ ‘done your taxes yet?’ oh no. The name of the game was discuss where you would all think of a question which would help you dig just a tiny bit deeper into your coworkers sex lives. 

Maybe if you were all sober then you’d avoid thinking of each other in such positions, pun intended, yet in this state your prying minds were open and your stomachs were ready to grow abs from bending over in laughter. 

You raised the margarita glass up clinking it with a fork to get the tables attention. Everyone including Aaron had a smile on their face, ready to hear the intrusive question for the night. 

“Ok my fellow profilers, doctor, and tech genius,” you added pointing at Spencer then Pen, “Do you kiss your partner after they give you head? Discuss!” you finished in your most formal voice. 

Right as you took a swig of your drink the mixed responses of yes and no filled your small space. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You guys especially, if someones willingly trying to swallow then you damn well owe them a kiss,” Emily finished earning nods and ‘exactly’s from JJ, Pen, and yourself. 

“Ok but thats weird. I just can’t explain it but its a no go for me,” Morgan finished. This only gained him a scoff and raised voices, “Hotch man help me out here,” he said looking over to the man hiding his smirk behind the amber liquid. 

“I have to agree with the ladies here Derek,” he said curtly. 

The girls yelped and hooted at Hotch for siding with them while Morgan sat with his arms crossed being the singular person left out as even Rossi agreed. Meanwhile you noticed the presence next to you had shrunk back and wasn’t too active in the conversation. 

“So Spence do you kiss your partner after they,” you trailed off shaking your fist by your cheek and poking your tongue in the side. 

He coughed as he instantly sat up quicker. Even under the dim lights of the bar you could still see the blush creeping up from his neck to his ears and the slightest tint on his cheeks. 

“Oh I uh- I never-” he said looking anywhere but your eyes. 

“You don’t kiss them?” you said raising your brows. 

“No! I-i mean yes. I would I think b-but I haven’t had the chance to actually partake in such.. activities,” he finished finally taking a look into your eyes. 

You could tell he was waiting for you to laugh in his face for being so inexperienced but you felt far from it. If anything you wished you could be the one to show him things. 

That sweet boy had you wrapped around his finger and he didn’t even know it. Maybe it was his naivety considering how exceptionally smart he was. Or maybe it was the cute sweater vests he wore and now he nervously tucked his hair behind his ears. All you knew was that you wanted Spencer Reid and tonight was your night to make it happen. 

You hummed taking in the information, “Well that’s not a bad thing Spence. Everything takes time,” you said putting your hand on his arm for comfort and giving him a smile. 

Going to turn back to face the table you almost didn’t hear Spencer go to speak again, “Do you?” 

Got him.

“Why don’t you find out pretty boy,” you said with a wink as you downed the rest of your marg. In the corner of your eye you could see Spencer shifting in his seat, subtly moving his bag to cover the slowly growing tent in his slacks. 

As the night went by you couldn’t help but really give him a show. You had popped open a button or two on the long sleeve you had on, since it was getting stuffy in the booth. Though when you leaned forward and jutted your chest out, the soft inhale of a breath from the man next to you was just serving as motivation to get bolder. 

For the last hour you called it quits on the alcohol and drank a few glasses of water before you drove home. Spencer had been uncharacteristically quiet ever since your little interactions. 

The team had all gotten up to say their goodbyes. Rossi going by and giving everyone a kiss on each cheek. Derek having to quite literally rangle Penelope from talking to passing by groups on their way out. Then there were two. 

You turned to the side where Spencer was nursing on his coke, “Hey pretty boy, it’s late, let me give you a ride home,” you said grabbing your belongings. 

“Y-yeah ok. Thanks Y/n,” he said getting up. You’d noticed how he still had the burnt orange bag over his crotch. He couldn’t still be hard could he? Well you’d love to find out. 

As gentlemanly as he was, Spencer opened the door for you to exit the building first. The whip of fresh night air cooling on your exposed chest and legs under your skirt. 

You unlocked your car and stepped in, Spencer waiting to hear the little beep signaling his side was open. As he sat down you heard him let out a little whimper. Your head shot over to look at him, you could tell from the flush on his cheeks he didn’t mean to let the noise out. 

Holding in your chuckle you started the ignition and pulled out of the lot, “Can I put on some music?” 

“Yeah I don’t mind,” he said looking over at you with his lips in a line. If it was anyone else, they’d probably think he was uncomfortable but you loved his tiny awkward smiles. 

The ride to his apartment was mostly silent besides a rare quip from Spencer about paper work or fact about an older building you had passed by. It fascinated you to no end hearing him talk. Spencer was a hand speaker, meaning he always used his hands waving them around and making gestures. The pale digits had you captivated. Probably a driving hazard but you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. 

You pulled up into one of the visitor spots and put the car in park. You looked over to see Spencer almost contemplating something. You’d seen the look on his face before when he was looking over puzzles. 

“Somethin on your mind Doc?” you said with a small smile. As cute as he looked when he was nervous, you’d never want him to feel uncomfortable around you. 

“Would you-,” he cleared his throat, “Wo- Would you maybe want to c-come inside?” 

“Of course Spence I’d love to,” you finished with a reassuring nod. 

As he led you upstairs you were giddy with anticipation. So what if nothing happened. He was your friend first and you were glad he was letting you into his personal space. Even if you wanted nothing more than to have him writhi-

“Y/n?” 

The door closing snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t even realize you were in his living room. The dark green walls and shelves bursting with books put a grin on your face, “Sorry Doc, just caught up in my thoughts. What did you say hun?” 

His brows practically raised to his hairline from hearing the pet name. While he was used to the names coming from Garcia they took a whole different light coming from your lips. 

“I was asking if you wanted water or something,” he said fiddling with the keys in his hands. Eyes darting everywhere but your face so you wouldn’t be able to see the flush rising on his cheeks. 

“No I’m fine thanks for asking though,” you said taking a seat on the worn leather couch. 

You reached for the tv remote making a face at Spencer to ask for permission. He nodded and you settled back turning on an old sitcom that played late at night. 

As the episode ended you both sat in silence. Again you didn’t mind but you could practically hear the cogs moving in Spencer’s brain. 

You were about to speak when he cut you off before you could even get a word out, “What did you mean by ‘why don’t you find out’.”

Gaining confidence you moved closer to where he was on the couch, slow enough for him to stop you in case he wanted to back out. 

“Well you have options pretty boy,” you said moving a leg to straddle him. Your hands instinctively going to his brown locks. You could’ve sworn you heard a little moan leave his chapped lips. Noted. 

“W-what are the options,” lust blown eyes looked up to yours. 

“One, you can put that mouth to good use on me,” you said trailing your finger over his bottom lip, “and let me cum over that pretty face.” 

His eyes shut hearing your words and you weren’t having it, “Nuh uh eyes on me honey,” instantly they were back on yours. 

“Or number two. I can suck you off and let you cum down my throat, but,” you paused making sure to roll your hips on his growing length, “ you have to give me a nice big smooch after.” 

The hands on your hips pulled you closer as he bucked his hips into you as you finished the sentence. It was clear which option was preferred. 

You moved to slide down in between his legs. You let your hands trail down his clothed thighs, causing him to jump. 

“Tsk such a needy boy,” you said mockingly, “Am I not going fast enough baby?”

“Please Y/n,” he all but whimpered. It was like music to your ears. 

Your hands went to his belt, looking up in his eyes for a final sign of permission. Once he nodded you quickly undid it and he lifted his hips to help get his pants down. You palmed him over his boxers, feeling the wet patch where he was already leaking pre cum. 

“Is this all for me Spence? Does the thought of my lips around you make you this hard,” you said taking him out of the striped confines. 

“Oh god please just,” he cut himself off. You could see his hands curling fists besides his legs. 

“Please what baby? I can’t give you anything unless you ask.” Your hands continued their task of leisurely stroking his length. 

“Fuck please put your mouth on me,” he rushed out, hips bucking to prove his point. 

The answer was good enough for you so you wasted no time in leaning forward and taking him in your mouth. Both of you let out content sighs as you tried to take him further. 

You looked up to see him with his head leaned back, eyes scrunched closes in pleasure. 

You pulled off with a pop, letting your hand work him over. “Better keep those pretty eyes on me before I decide you can’t finish.”

He looked down with a flash of worry, that was quickly replaced by a loud moan as you spit down on his cock before taking him in your mouth again. 

For a germaphobe, Spencer loved how nasty it was. He was thanking god or whatever higher being there was for giving him his eidetic memory because the sight below him was something he’d never wanna forget. 

Your eyes were teary and you had spit dribbling down your chin but he wanted nothing more than to give you more than just a kiss after you finished. Or well after he finishes. 

You could tell he was close by the way he was throbbing on your tongue. Again taking him out of your mouth you used both hands to jerk him off. 

“You’re doing such a good job baby. So good for me. You wanna cum in my mouth pretty boy?”

“God Y/n I’m so close please please please,” he whimpered out. 

“Cum for me baby, be my good boy Spence,”  you said before taking him down your throat. He was big, not girthy but long and it was a struggle but you’d be damned if you didn’t try to take him all. 

Hollowing your cheeks you bobbed your head quickly, egging on his release further. His hands finally found a place in the back of your head. Pushing you down further as he came. 

“F-fuck Y/n I’m gonna”

His moans and whines were a symphony of sounds you’d have on repeat in your head forever. 

You swallowed the salty release but before you could even wipe your lips you were being pulled up by Spencer placing his lips on yours. You moaned into the kiss, his hands gripped the sides of your face not wanting to let you go. 

The need for air made you both pull back. You looked at one another, chests heaving and looking like you ran a marathon. 

Then a sad look came across his face. 

“Spencer what’s wrong?” 

“You didn’t get any pleasure,” he said looking like a hurt puppy. Oh your sweet boy. 

“It’s ok baby, I can take care of myself,” you tried to shrug off.

He was quick to push you back on the couch, taking the spot you were previously in. His warm lips trailing down your exposed thighs. 

“I wanna do it, but only if you kiss me after.” 

[ellana-ravenwood]

The art of taking care of the woman you love - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : You’ve always had really bad period pains. You learned to live with it, and to take care of yourself during those times...Up until a certain Bruce Wayne came into your life, and made it his mission to be there for you. 

For @meghan-maria​, who gotta be the sweetest out there :), and for anyone who ever had really bad period pains. I hope you will like it : 

TW : periods. It’s obvious given the theme, but I guess we never know and better safe than sorry. 

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives​

_________________________________________________

The First time it happened

It’s the fact you cancelled your planned date with him without an explanation that makes him worry. 

“Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Will see you tomorrow !” 

You never did that before, and you two were so busy neither of you would miss a date really. Not unless something bad or important happened. But then in that case, you would’ve told him, no ?

It made him so anxious. And he was starting to clearly overthink things. 

Were you maybe...having second thoughts ? 

You and Bruce made your relationship official not long ago, was the media’s pressure becoming too much ? You told him you’d be fine, but after a few months experiencing the plague that were paparazzi and invasive questions, did you change your mind ? 

Or maybe it was because of the whole Batman thing ? You discovered that a while ago, even before making your relationship official so...why would you change your mind about it now ? 

Maybe he came home with too many cuts and bruises. Maybe you were freaking out ? He would understand if you did. 

Or...There was a last option that came to his mind : he upset you somehow. 

It was entirely possible, sometimes he could get stuck in his own mind, and be a jerk without even truly realizing it. He knew that fact very well about himself. It was often the reason of how he ruined multiple relationships, friends or more. 

The way he sometimes just got too focused on his vigilante work. Too obsessed. And could be stuck in a “dark mode” like you’d say...

But, he also knew that you never took any of his shit. You would’ve told him if something was really the matter, right ? 

Right ?!

Should he ask Alfred if he noticed anything ? His butler, and surrogate father, always saw things that escaped him. Especially when it came to feelings. 

This was a less known trait about Bruce, but ever since he was a child, he’s always been anxious. He was usually really good at hiding it, and his “Brucie Wayne” persona made everyone think it wasn’t possible for him to be anything else but confident and cocky but...it wasn’t true. 

Especially when it came to those he cared about. Especially when it came to you. 

You loved him despite his flaws, accepted him fully, without any conditions. It was the first time it ever happened, that he LET it happen...So, with this simple plan cancellation that was quite unlike you, he freaked out a bit.

In the middle of the day, he finally decided to call you. One. Two. Three tones before you picked up, and oh. Oh he felt so relieved to hear your little “hello ?” 

At the same time, his worry peaked. Was it just him, or did you sound really weak ?

“Hey honey, just wanted to check if you were alright ? Your text was a little short, and I know you don’t owe me any explanations of course, but I just wanted to check on you. You know. I-um...” 

Clumsy Brooshy. 

It made you smile, the way he could be a little flustered and lose his words, when with you. And it made you smile even wider that he chose to call you to make sure everything was ok. 

Sweet Broosh.

If you really didn’t want to talk to him, you wouldn’t have answered. And he wasn’t the kind of man to “insist”. He would’ve left a voice message, and leave you alone until you felt like calling him back. Bruce was most definitely not invasive...but at the same time, you’d never leave him worrying for no reasons, knowing how anxious he could be.

The truth was, your text was short because...You didn’t know how to tell him the reasons you needed to cancel your date. You didn’t want to embarrass him. Men didn’t really like to talk about what you currently were suffering from. 

You also were a little embarrassed yourself, because the entire society surrounding you made you feel wrong for having periods. 

Periods. 

One week a month. Every single months. That was a lot. 

Especially for you because...you always had complicated and difficult periods. Painful. Making you feel like you couldn’t move. The pain making it impossible for you to even get out of bed for long. 

You and Bruce had been dating for a while but...weren’t periods sort of a taboo subject ? You didn’t really know how to tell him. Especially since most men really seemed uncomfortable with the all thing. 

Of course, you should’ve know Bruce wasn’t “most men”. 

“Baby, are you there ?” 

“Um yes yes, sorry I was lost in thoughts.” 

“Are you ok ? You don’t sound right.” 

The most observant man in the World was obviously going to realize your voice sounded weaker than usually. The truth was, you were trying really hard to keep it steady as pain filled your being. 

“Yes yes, I’m ok, just feeling a bit...under the weather ?” 

“Is there anything I can do ? Is it a cold or something ? If so, I can bring you buy some chicken noodle soup, and pick up any meds you might need.” 

You almost cried at his words. 

Super busy bee Bruce Wayne was telling you he’d go out of his way to bring you what you needed...It made you crack a little. 

He was too damn nice. And your hormones were in shambles. It was very easy right now for you to cry. 

This. How willing he was to help you, how he immediately asked if he could...Was what made you say the truth without thinking twice : 

“I’m-I’m on my periods. They’re usually- They’re usually bad.” 

“Oh.” 

His response scared you a little bit. Were you right, was this maybe too much, too soon ? You were about to add something when he said : 

“I’ll be there in about an hour, if it’s ok with you ? If you prefer to be alone I can send-” 

“No ! No, I would love for you to come. I just-I wasn’t sure-I-”

“It’s ok. I understand. See you in a bit, love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

On that note, Bruce hung up and leaves you with a wild beating heart. 

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

Exactly an hour later, your doorbell rings. 

With difficulties, you stand up, and go open the door. Surely enough, it’s your boyfriend. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi.” 

He has a bag in his hand, and you melt a little at the soft look and smile he gives you (even if there’s clear concerns behind it). You let him in, and go sit on the couch, even if just sitting up is already too much. 

“Do you want to lie down ?” 

“No. No I’m fine. You came all the way here, I can’t just stay in bed haha.” 

“Of course you can.” 

There’s a small silence for a little bit. Not awkward, you’re just not quite sure what to do. Should you go back to bed ? You really want to. And clearly, he understands. He always does. 

“Ok.” 

You stand, and wince because moving really makes everything worst. He approaches you, worried, but doesn’t dare to touch you and just follows you into your room. You get back in your comfy bed, under your comfy comforter. 

Another silence. Until he breaks it, taking something out of the bag he was carrying and saying : 

“So. I wasn’t sure you had a hot water bottle, I don’t ever recall seeing one in your apartment. So I bought one on the way just in case. Sorry if you don’t like the color, I can pick another one up later. It’s just, the woman on YouTube said that heat pads and hot water bottles were great.”

“The...woman on YouTube ?” 

“Yes, I watched a video on menstruations on the way here.” 

For a few seconds, you just stare at him, stunned. Never EVER in your entire life did you think you would hear THE Bruce Wayne say those words one day.

“A video on menstruations ?”

“Well, yes. Obviously, I don’t have periods. So I have no idea what it feels like. So I watched a video, to understand the process. And also so that you wouldn’t have to explain anything to me. You know what periods are, you don’t have to educate me on it. It’s not your job. And I definitely don’t want to sound patronizing about it. So I watched a video, and read a few articles. I won’t say I know how it feels, but I understand it more. Tell me if I ever step my bounds at any moment..” 

You can’t help but smile, even as your lower belly is on fire. Ah. Of course he would search things about it. Bruce was the kind of man to be thorough in his researches before tackling a problem. As Batman, he always tried to know everything there is to know about a situation before finding any solutions. But he was like that in real life too. 

And it particularly touched you that he did it so you wouldn’t have to explain...You had an ex, once, who sat down with you to talk about menstruations and it sort of drove you crazy. He thought it was nice, but your hormones were wreaking HAVOC and he was trying to explain to you how periods work and what it felt like ??? Give you advice about it and that it would be fine if you did what he said ?? Excuse me ??? As if you didn’t try everything already to feel less pain. And as if, as a woman, you didn’t know what it felt like or what it was exactly...

And there came Bruce. Reading up on it. And knowing he would never quite know how it feels. But educating himself so he won’t say something that could trigger you in any way. 

Sweet sweet man...If only people knew. 

He caressed your cheek softly, before whispering : 

“Then I-I watched something on endometriosis, because I read in a previous article it felt horrible. And you said your periods were bad, when we were on the phone. It sounds awful. Do you-...Have endometriosis ?” 

You shake your head weakly. Endometriosis was one of the reason why your periods were so painful and dreaded. And the worst ? It was a sickness many people said didn’t even exist. 

A woman being in pain during her periods ? Drama queen. Right ? It didn’t hurt that baaaaad. See, some women didn’t feel anything, just bled for a bit and moved on with their months. So obviously every women felt the same. Some were just being too sensitive...

Endometriosis was still, even to this day, a rather unknown illness and one that was rarely taken seriously. Some people just couldn’t even fathom you being in pain because of your periods, so much so that you couldn’t move. 

That you occasionally fainted, that you couldn’t eat much because it made you vomit, that you had awful migraines, stomach ache and back pain. That you couldn’t focus or sleep because of it. No. 

No those were just “made up symptoms” because you were “weak”...What awful things to say, right ? It was even worst to hear. Someone telling you this, as you felt like you were dying because of the pain, made you feel GUILTY to have painful periods. 

But it wasn’t your fault ? IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT ?! Nor were the moodswings, the cravings, the fatigue...

You hated going to the doctors when you were younger, because you knew he wouldn’t believe you when you said your periods hurt...

Anyway. Even without endometriosis, women who had bad periods pain were rarely taken seriously. Unless they met another woman who felt the same. Then they’d feel like they weren’t alone, or crazy. Like there were others who felt bad too. 

Every woman was different. And you unfortunately never met someone else with the same problems than you...

You felt very alone, for so long, and it was enhanced by your hormones going crazy and the pain being unbearable at times. 

And then, in come Bruce. 

Your Broosh. 

“Ok. Well. I brought you some of your favorite food. And um, I picked up some snacks if you want to do a movie marathon ? I brought all The Lord of the Rings extended editions. I got heat pads and a hot water bottle like I said. We can also just cuddle and relax if you prefer, I read that physical comfort was good ? Or, I can leave everything here, settle you in properly, and leave you alone. Just, tell me what you need my love ?” 

What did...you need ? 

Nobody ever asked you that. Nobody. Not even your parents. 

What did you need ? 

The answer came quickly. 

Him. You need him. His warmth. His large and soothing hands. His comforting presence. His calming voice. 

You knew you were in love with him since a while now. You exchanged “I love yous” already. But never did you feel as much love for him as right now, seeing him sitting in front of you, asking you what you needed...

A simple action. Simple words. And yet, it meant everything. 

“What do you need, honey ?” 

The concern in his eyes, and how he was very obviously ready to do whatever you wanted him to. 

It already made you feel better. The physical pain didn’t go down, that’s not how it worked unfortunately. But the emotional anguish ? Gone. 

Because he was there. 

Without even realizing it, you started crying. This was too much for your heart, too overwhelming. It meant the World, in that moment. 

It meant the world, to you and your overworked hormones. And so you cried. You cried hard. 

Without thinking twice, Bruce moved towards you. Taking his coat off and leaving it on the floor (Alfred would scold him about this for sure), he climbs in your bed and engulfs you in his arms. And it’s so warm and comforting, comfortable, too. 

“Just tell me what you need..”

He whispered to you, in his deep calming voice, his fingers running soothingly through your hair. 

“Could you just...keep holding me ?” 

He smiles softly, and says : 

“Of course.” 

He never, and never would, shy away from comforting you in any way. If you needed to have a good cry in his arms, so be it. And if you just needed him to be there, he would be there. 

You cuddled for a bit, the soothing circles he rubbed on your back doing wonders to make you feel relax. He brought some essential oils, that he massaged on your belly before filling the hot water bottle and laying it there...It relieved the pain a little bit, as you started a marathon of your favorite movies.

He took great care of you all day long, answering your every need even as you didn’t dare to ask...as if he could read your mind. You almost suspected he really could. You never felt so in phase with anyone before like you did with him.  

You had been together for less than a year. Although your anniversary was right around the corner. But him coming over as soon as he knew you weren’t feeling well. Him educating himself on what was it that hurt you...

If you weren’t sure yet that he was the one...You knew now. 

It sucks to be a woman, sometimes 

Bruce never knew periods could be that bad. Well, of course, he was a guy. And “periods” was never really a subject he talked about with anyone. He never really paid attention to it, like many men really. 

Until he saw you while on it. 

He knew you. He knew you were a tough lady. Once, you broke your leg while on a date with him. A silly accident really. Involving an ice rink, and an overzealous you chasing a hockey puck...Long story short, you ended up with a bad break. And you barely said a word about it. 

Bruce had his bones broken many times, he knew the pain of it. It was one of the pain he hated the most, along with burns. One he dreaded the most. And you took it like a champ. 

The break was bad enough you even needed surgery, yet you kept smiling at him (he might’ve feel bad that he let his over-competitive mind take over, “pushing” you to really want that puck...but of course, it was not his fault, after all, you too were very competitive, it was a pure accident). Saying you were fine, and that it’d be ok. 

He always hated seeing you hurt, it hurt him too. Inside. And scared the Hell out of him, to even think about you being harmed. So that day, he was rather frantic. You staying calm helped him, which made him feel a little guilty that even as you were the hurt one, you reassured him. 

But then you reminded him the roles were often reversed when he came back hurt from a rough vigilante night...You always had the right words to ease his mind. 

Anyway. That one time, after badly breaking your leg, you stayed rather calm and collected. But when you had your periods ? 

He never knew it could hurt so much. You couldn’t hide your pain, or pretend everything was alright. 

It was clearly a really bad moment to go through. 

He knew about the terrible migraines, being unable to sleep which made everything worst, feeling like your lower belly was being twisted from the inside, being sore all over for no reasons, not being able to move... 

Seeing you, was enough for him to know that periods sucked. 

“Being a woman is the worst, sometimes!” 

You’d often say during those moments, and he’d just soothe you, wishing he was in your place...

He hated when you were hurting. It hurt him too. Inside. 

And never. NEVER would he doubt that you were in real pain. Because unlike the doctors who kept telling you it was in your head, he knew you. He saw you get injured before. He knew you were tough. So for you to not be able to pretend everything was fine... 

You were hurting. Badly. And it was awful. But he believed you. He believed you and that’s all that mattered to you. 

Space

He also knew how to give you space when you needed it, though. 

He would be here if you needed him, bring you any food you craved, giving you relaxing massages, rubbing essential oils on your belly, filling up your hot water bottle etc etc. 

To be honest, his reaction to you being on your period is what made you sure he would be a great father one day...And you were right. 

Not a perfect father. 

But oh. Oh he cared. And wanted so much to do good...

And he knew. 

He knew exactly when he had to be there, and when he had to give you space. 

His hoodie

Bruce couldn’t always be with you when you had your periods, of course. 

He often took time off to be. But it was unrealistic to think he could be 24/7 with you the entire week. 

And sometimes, when he was away, you really suddenly craved his presence...So you came up with a trick. 

You stole his clothes. 

Particularly, hoodies he often wore when hanging out casually in the Manor. 

First of, they were very comfortable. And second, and most importantly : they smelled like him. 

They were warm, had his scent, and you could fall asleep feeling like he was almost there. 

Bruce couldn’t count the number of hoodies he lost to you....Then again, after a while, you’d ruthlessly abandon one because it stopped smelling like him, and would steal another one. 

Of course, he never minded. In fact, beyond the fact hoodies were nice and comfortable, he started to wear them a lot while in the house or during times he didn’t need to wear a suit (in every sense of the term), specifically because he knew you’d steal them when you felt lonely. 

It was cute. And it made his heart beat faster just thinking about it. 

Nobody. 

Nobody ever needed him that much before. Nobody ever loved him so much that sometimes him not being around was distressing. 

Of course, he felt the same. And the knowledge that you too, would sometimes feel lovesick when you were separated for too long...Filled his heart to the brim with the best feelings. 

For so long, he thought someone being dependable of him, and him being dependable of someone was bad...Oh, how he was wrong. 

It’s not because you open your heart to someone that you’ll get hurt, or that they’ll use it against you. You just have to find the right person... 

So. Yes. He will always cancel plans just to be with you. 

To bring you hot water bottles whenever you need. To cook your favorite food and snacks. To be there during all your mood swings, and endure even if you’re not the nicest to him (it’s not your fault). To watch your favorite movies. To let you sleep in and run your errands...

Periods sucked. 

He didn’t need to be a woman to know that. 

So he was there. Right there. For you. Taking care of you. And he would forever be there for that. 

But when he wasn’t ? 

Then he’d strategically leave one of his hoodie near the bed, so you could steal it, and comfort yourself with his smell...

Mood Swings 

“Brooooooooooosssssh...” 

You’re crying. You’re crying ! 

And it makes Bruce panic. You cry very rarely, so when you do it means something really bad must’ve happened or..or...

Bruce makes a quick calculation in his head and...Yup. 

It’s that time of the month again. 

Already ? Poor you.. 

This means that tomorrow, you’ll be a mess as everything will hurt too much, and today, the eve right before, you’re overly emotional. 

Hence you clinging to him right now, sobbing while repeating “I love you so much Bruce, I love you soooo much”. 

Hormones could really turn your head around. Right at the start of your period, before the pain, you had a rush of many emotions. 

You could either get very irritated for no reason (like “WHY IS THIS FLOOR ON THE FLOOR ?!”) or cry at everything. Right now, you were crying because you realized you loved your Broosh to death and you just had to tell him and you didn’t want him to go that night and...ah...

“It’s alright, it’s alright my love. You’re ok. We’re ok.” 

He lets you cry in his arms, of course. And already made the decision to not go out tonight, and stay with you. Kate could take over. He couldn’t leave knowing your emotions were doing quite a trick on you...

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

Your mood swings during your periods were particularly bad. 

You guessed it went in pairs with all the pain. Of course, not just one thing had to be exacerbated. Oh no. EVERYTHING bad about periods had to be turned to the max for you. Otherwise, were was the fun, right ? Sarcasm. 

You’d get irritated for no reasons. Then feel bad and cry for hours. To then feel ridiculously giddy once again for seemingly no reason...and then suddenly a burst of anxiety would attack you. 

It was a circus in your mind, and in your body. 

You couldn’t focus on anything. You couldn’t sleep properly. You felt awful all the time. Everything hurt. God...

And there he was. Bruce. Taking the brunt of your bad moods without saying a word. He knew it wasn’t your fault. That you didn’t mean it. That your hormones dictated your behavior against your own will. 

He knew. 

And he was there. 

He was there. 

“Every little moment is important, Son” - Thomas Wayne, to Bruce during the Flashpoint events.

“Bruce ? What are you doing here ? Thought you had important meetings ?”

“They weren’t that important.” 

“Really ? Lucious said-”

“Lucious is overdramatic. Anyway, Tim is taking care of it.” 

“...You’re letting our sixteen years old son taking care of the future of your company ?” 

“To be honest, he’s probably more competent about it than me.” 

“...That’s actually pretty accurate. But, why did you cancel things ?” 

“Because it’s this unpleasant time of the month, right ?”

“Oh. You don’t have to-” 

“I absolutely do.” 

Disappearing for a few seconds, your husbands comes back, wearing one of his favorite silk pajamas (and by “his” favorite, he really means : he knows you love them and think they look good on him, but won’t ever admit it because they’re “damn pajamas, it’s silly”...but he likes to please you). He then climbs in bed with you, and settles comfortable against you. 

“So, what’s the program today ?” 

This wasn’t unusual, for him to do this when you were on your periods. 

In fact, it was almost a ritual. Delegating his works to others, so he could take care of you. 

Ever since that first time, all those years ago, things didn’t change much. He would ask you what you need, you’d tell him, and he would do it happily. 

He knew it was a tough moment for you, physically, hormonally, mentally...Having your periods sucked. So he was there. Right there. 

The words his father...Well, not really his father. The “Thomas Wayne” of another dimension. What his father would’ve become if he died that fateful night, instead of his parents. Regardless, to him, it was his father. 

The father that never saw him grow up and became the man he was now...Yet who had important words for him. 

“Take advantage of every little moments, you never know when it’ll end.” 

Those words stuck with him. Because it was true. It only took a few seconds in an alleyway for his whole world to turn upside down...Why would it take any less for it to completely change now too ? 

What if something happened to you ? And he didn’t spend enough time by your side ? Or to his kids ? 

There was a time, being Batman was everything to Bruce. Because he was angry, lost, and devastated. 

But over the years...Over the years this role stayed important. But he expended his vision. He included others in it. 

So. Yes. He would treasure those small moments with you. And if it meant taking a day and night off to take care of you during a rough time, then he’d do it. If it meant missing work (both his works) because one of his children was sick, so be it. 

He was Batman. But he was also a husband. A father. 

And now...Now he knew his priorities. 

He’d never stop being Batman. Never. 

But he knew now. He knew there was more to life than this dark world he thought he’d get stuck in till the end of his life. 

“I was about to watch a movie.” 

“A movie it is. If you want me here, of course.” 

“Do you even have to ask ?” 

“To make sure you’re ok ? Always.” 

“-sigh- Yes. Yes Bruce, I want you here. I want nothing else, in fact.” 

“Ah, not even pop-corn ?”

“...Once we’ll have pop-corn, I’ll want nothing else.” 

“Um, why is there tampons in your drawer ??” 

One day, one of Bruce’s associate, Carlton, needed some paperworks to finish a deal, and came into his office. Bruce was on the phone, and gestured to him to just pick the papers up in one of his desk’s drawer. 

Only the man misunderstood and opened the wrong drawer and...

“What the-Why is there tampons and pads in your drawers ?”

He asked, half-bewildered half-amused. Bruce finished his phone call, and answered : 

“Why wouldn’t there be ?” 

“Um, are you a woman ?” 

“No, but my wife, who often come to this office, is.” 

“Jeez Louise Bruce, never pegged you to be such a simp haha ! Oh man, they’re even “organic”, how far can you go for one woman right ? Haha joking of course, or maybe..haha !” 

There was something in the tone Carlton took that brushed Bruce the wrong way. Something disrespectful and irritating. Not disrespectful to him, as if he cared to be called a “simp” (by a grown ass man by the way, which made it even more ridiculous). No. He didn’t care. But..This was his wife, they were talking about, in the end. 

“A...”simp” ? Because I have items who can be useful to my wife in my desk drawer ? A place in which she often comes, as I already said ?” 

His voice was cold, and Carlton definitely noticed. He always thought Bruce was an affable man, but sometimes...Sometimes he had something almost scary in his eyes. 

Ah, but Carlton wasn’t the kind of man to really take this things seriously. And he added : 

“Come on Bruce, don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous ?”

“No.” 

“I just think it’s funny you have a drawer full of those things.” 

“As I said, my wife comes by often, and might need it sometimes. I keep them here for her. It often came in handy you know.” 

“Don’t say that, that’s so gross.” 

“Why ?” 

“Just thinking about it.” 

“Just thinking about something my wife, but also yours by the way, have no control over ?” 

“My wife doesn’t- We just don’t talk about it.” 

“Well I guess yes. Or you wouldn’t react that way. Do you not take care of her when she has her periods ?” 

At the word “periods”, the man opened his eyes wide, which made your husband roll his. It truly TRULY baffled him that this dude was being grossed by OBJECTS and most likely didn’t take care of his wife ? How could you love someone and not want to comfort them ?! 

“Well, I don’t think she- I- She doesn’t - I ...It’s embarrassing, no ?”

“No.” 

“Well, maybe it’s not with your wife but with mine it has been. She asked me a few times to buy pads for her.” 

“Why would it be embarrassing ? I can assure you, nobody is going to think it’s for you.” 

Carlton’s face was steadily going red. He said : 

“It’s just something we don’t talk about.”

“Why not ?” 

“It’s just...gross and...” 

“Why is it gross though ? Why do you think that way ?” 

“I mean, you know what periods are right ?” 

“Of course I do. It’s something happening to a very large chunk of our population, and that is a natural phase in their life. Do you think your wife wants to have periods ? Most likely not. Mine definitely doesn’t. But she does. So I do keep pads and tampons here in case of an emergency, in case she has nothing else on her.” 

“Nothing else ?” 

“Do you think only pads and tampons exist for women’s periods ?” 

“I-”

“It’s not hard to read up on it a bit. Especially when someone as close as your own wife is a “victim” of it."

Awkard silence. Clearly, the man was uncomfortable. Bruce sighed, and said : 

“Just go take care of those papers.” 

Evidently relieved, his associate almost ran out of the room. 

Bruce kept thinking about how funny Carlton thought it was to have pads in his drawers. How he was about to mock him further before he got called out. “Simp”. If taking care of the woman he loved meant being a simp, then whatever. 

Bruce couldn’t stop thinking about his associate’s words. And it gave him an idea...

The next day, every newspapers and local news channel talked about how the (Y/N) Wayne Foundation gave millions of dollars to every school and public places in the country to provide free tampons and pads to women. And how Bruce Wayne became a huge advocate of the “period positivity” movement his wife started. 

“Periods shouldn’t be taboo.”, he said in his speech for the grand-opening of thousands and thousands of free pads distributors. 

When the kids are around. 

Dick 

Dick was little when he first witnessed what your periods did to you, and he downright panicked when you fainted in front of him while you two were shopping for Bruce’s birthday present ! 

That morning when you woke up, you knew you were going to have your periods. You always felt it in your bones, a little bit before it truly started...But you also promised little Dickie you’d help him chose a gift for your husband. 

You hated breaking your promises. Especially the one you made to your kid. He was just nine, and already experienced so many heartache...You couldn’t just break a promise you made to him, no matter what. 

So you went anyway, knowing there was a high chance you’d feel ill during the day. You were hoping, in fact, your periods wouldn’t truly start up until the evening, and so you could spend the day with your son. 

Alas...

“Mom ? Mom !? Someone help !!” 

Your fainting during your period never lasted long. Just a sudden drop of energy, feeling dizzy, and falling...you woke up fast. Opening your eyes to see your baby boy with tears in his eyes. You knew what happened, and reassured him immediately. 

You refused to call an ambulance, and instead called Alfred to ask if he could come pick you two up (you would NOT risk driving while in this state). 

And there you were, sitting on a bench with your son while waiting for Alfred who would be there as soon as it takes to get from Wayne Manor to Gotham’s City Center. 

“Are you sure you’re ok ?” 

“Yes, don’t worry, this is normal.”

“Fainting is not normal !” 

Dick looked so distressed...Should you tell him what was going on ? But he was such a young child. 

Ah. But you were amongst the people who thought that kids weren’t as stupid as many people thought. And that they could handle the truth, especially this kind of things. 

Understand what was happening to you would surely easy his mind. And make him understand, and act accordingly in the future. Wether with you, or a possible girlfriend ? 

So you do just that. 

You explain to him what is going on. You don’t give too many scientific details, but you explain as best you can so he understands. 

“And every women has it ?” 

“Every women have periods yes. But not everyone’s hurt.” 

“Why do yours hurt ?” 

“We don’t really know. I guess I wasn’t lucky ?”

“Scientists don’t know ?” 

“Well, research on it are rather recents to be honest.” 

“Why ? Women had it long ago too no ?” 

“Yes, but it was a little taboo.” 

“Why ?”

“Patriarchy.” 

“Oh, damn patriarchy.” 

You laugh. You knows he didn’t understand your answer, said as a joke to yourself. But it’s absolutely adorable how he immediately sides with you anyway. 

“When I grow up, I’ll be a scientist. So I can help.” 

“Ah, I thought you wanted to be an adventurer like Indiana Jones ? Or “whatever dad is doing I want to do it too” ?” 

“Well. I can do more than once things at the same time, right ?” 

“Sure you can. You can do anything.” 

He smiles at you, and get closer for a little cuddle. And that’s how Alfred finds you two, your son hugging you, and you hugging him back, on a bench in the streets... 

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

After the initial panic, Dick made it his mission to take care of you. He got really scared when he saw you faint, and would actually be a little...overbearing. 

When he knew you were on your periods, he’d literally forbid you to walk around, and would make sure you had everything you needed. 

His attentions, plus Bruce’s, made you feel like periods weren’t so bad in the end ? 

Even as a grown up, Dick would often come by the manor with your favorite cake, for example, when he knew you didn’t feel well. And he would still get strict with you if he saw you roaming around and getting too busy while he knew you were in pain. 

He’d do whatever you had to, for you. Wether it was cleaning things up, picking groceries...Running any errands for you, so you could rest. 

You were definitely grateful. Even if sometimes, you wish you could just tell him to ease up a bit...Ah. But how could you really ? 

The trauma Dick felt when loosing his parents made him overprotective and rather intransigeant. This was just how he was. And you always loved all your children unconditionally. You could take him being a bit too overprotective sometimes, because oh, oh he brought so much in your life...  

Jason 

You having really bad periods is the reason why when Jason, as a child or an adult, heard anyone say to a girl : “Jeez, why you so moody are you on your periods ?!”, would get mad. 

It was cute to see his little ten years old self lecture grown adults about it : “Periods are really tough on a girl ! It’s not their fault is they don’t feel well or have mood swings, be more empathetic !”. 

And it was still cute to see him as an adult glare at those who’d say this and give them a sermon about why it was wrong, and they better not say it again “or else” (and when a man like your son said the words “or else”, literally no one wanted to find out what he meant by it). 

Once, someone told him, sarcastically : 

“Wow, you drunk a lot of “respect women juice” huh ?” 

“What is that even suppose to mean ? I’m being a decent human being. You should try it sometimes. If respecting women is so foreign to you, that hearing me say what I said is funny and ridiculous, reassess your life mate.”

It’s really not like anyone really wanted to argue with your son. Besides the fact he was very tall, and as a vigilante definitely worked out a lot...he had a “dangerous” air about him. It was his eyes maybe, daring anyone to argue and making them understand he wouldn’t back down without a fight ? 

Ah. But if only people tried to look beyond that. If they only tried to know your son. 

They’d realize he’s the sweetest little buddy around.  

It surprised people that you still called him “little buddy” even as he was fast approaching his mid-twenties. But for you... 

For you he was still that little, sweet Jay he was before he died. The one that you could still see sometimes, behind all his anger, trauma and hurt. 

Ever since he was a child, Jason always felt everything more than anyone around him. He was an “hypersensitive” child. When he was angry, he was enraged. When he was happy, he was the happiest boy on Earth. When he was sad, it was hard to console him. 

When he grew up, and all those bad things happened to him...This trait of his got even more enhanced. It was sometimes hard to reach him under all those negative emotions...Yet. Yet you managed to do it. 

Bruce too...But that was another story. 

For now, you just always felt extremely proud that your son was actually not as harsh as some people thought (the same mistakes they all kept making about your husband...you hated this kind of assumptions). 

He always stood up for the underdogs. And was always respectful, and would voice his opinions. 

Like how he hated when people told women : “ugh are you on your periods ?!” if they were being just a tiny bit difficult (sometimes, not even). 

As a kid, Jason would worry a lot about you when you were on your periods. He hounded Bruce to know if you were ok, which your husband didn’t mind, of course. But he never quite dared to “bother you”. 

Of course, he would never bother you. But Jason was a complicated kid who always worried too much. He didn’t want to get in your way, or annoy you. 

So he had little quiet actions for you. 

Like getting your slippers warm when you’d wake up, by placing them near the radiators all night and putting them right beside your bed before you’d wake up. Or bringing you hot beverages. Baking your favorite treats, and leaving them in strategic places so you’d see it. Or scolding his dad when he thought he wasn’t taking care of you enough haha. 

Jason was a good kid. Nobody would ever change your mind on that. He was a good kid, to whom bad things happened. Yet he never strayed from his principles...No matter how people could see his recent actions. 

Jason was a good kid. 

He was your kid. 

As a child, he hated this week during which you had your periods. He dreaded them as much as you did. Just like Bruce, he had a hard time standing you being hurt...

As an adult. It was the same. And he still had little silent actions to make you feel better. To make your day easier. 

That was Jason for you. 

Such, such a good kid... 

Tim 

Tim, very much like his father, was a boy who needed to always have a plan, and to know everything before finding solutions. 

When you were on your periods, he’d always know. Because he kept a calendar about it. 

Some people might find it weird, but...Why ? He kept count of the days to know when you’d have your periods, so he could act accordingly. So he wouldn’t be caught off guard by one of your mood swings. And so he could take care of you ?? 

It was an act of care, to keep track of your periods. Sometimes, he even knew before you when you were going to have it. 

People who thought it was weird to kept such a calendar, were the same people who thought periods were gross and a taboo subject. 

Sure, it was definitely not very glamorous. But it was part of half of the World’s population life ?? Why keep it taboo and refusing to talk about it ? 

Tim immediately, just like his dad, did a lot of research on women’s menstruations...Which got you to be called in his principal’s office once. 

The man was worried, and unhappy that your son was reading a magazine “for woman” about “menstruations”, he thought the topic was vulgar and inappropriate. 

Your son was 13. Which was also the age many of his girl friends were experiencing their first periods. And that principal was out there, scolding him because he talked about it, making an entire generation of little girls thinking they were wrong for having periods ? 

Needless to say, you got rather mad. And the principle never called you ever again (if he had to call, he was always making sure to get your husband on the line, and not you).

And so Tim kept learning everything possible about it, in the hope also to find the perfect remedies to ease your pain. He tried a lot, to help you out. Gave tricks to Bruce, too. 

And so, kept a calendar. 

This allowed him to know if something was wrong, as well. 

He was the first one to guess you were pregnant with Thomas, because of his calendar. And one time, you had hormonal problems and he’s the one that told you you should check an endocrinologist because you’d been too irregular with your periods time ! 

Yes. Just like his dad, Tim needed to know a situation fully before acting. And seeing him trying to know as much as he could in order to help you was...why, it was the most adorable thing in the world. 

Cass

Cass’ periods were not painful, and you were so glad for her. 

To her, it was a mild annoyance, there was no pain, it was just irritating. And yes, she had mood swings and could easily get mad, but it was nothing major. 

She never even knew other women could have it so bad...The education about periods was really lacking ! They never talked about it anywhere ! 

Cass was a woman of few words...but she knew how to pass her emotions through her body language. Oh, how she knew. 

“Momma.” 

Just like your other kids, she’d come check on you when Bruce couldn’t take care of you. You wanted space sometimes, which they all understood. But honestly, during your periods, when you were so sensitive about everything ? You also wanted them around almost all the time. 

A paradox. Very fitting of those damn periods time. 

Cass would just sit with you, and make sure you were comfortable. She wouldn’t say a word. Lay her head on your shoulder, and hold your hand. Watch movies with you. Hold you close. 

She was delicate with you, as if afraid to break you. 

Just like your husband, her presence had a soothing effect ? As if nothing bad could ever happen to you as long as she was there (and that probably was right, Cassandra would never let anyone touch her “momma”).

She didn’t need to talk. She didn’t need to do anything more than stay with you when you didn’t want to be alone. 

She never experienced the pain you had, but if even to her, who had painless periods, it was annoying and a damn plague ? Then to you... 

She didn’t need to do much. 

Just her being there already meant a lot. 

Her holding onto you, even as she stayed afraid of anyone’s touch for so long. 

“Momma.” 

Cassandra was your only daughter. And oh you were glad her periods weren’t as bad as yours. That’s all that really mattered to you. 

“Momma.” 

You often fell asleep with the warmth of your kiddo right there. Next to you. Knowing she wasn’t going to leave unless you wanted to. Knowing she wish she could take your pain on. 

Ah. But no. No even if it was possible you’d never allow that. You were the mom. YOU were supposed to take their pains on. 

And knowing that Cass never suffered on her periods as bad as you did, was enough. After all, your baby suffered enough in the past...She could get a little lucky, right ? 

“Momma.” 

That word was music to your hear. Cass’ first word to you. 

She didn’t need to talk anyway. Being here was enough...

It was more than enough. 

Damian 

Everyone who saw Damian around you would notice that he wasn’t quite the same boy than "normally”. 

He was calmer, nicer, and sweeter. 

You’d argue that it was his real self. That this was his “normal”. That he was just never allowed to show his true heart before, and wasn’t used to trust others and open up. And you were definitely more than happy that he finally managed to do that after arriving into your home. 

That none of you ever gave up on him. 

You especially had a calming effect on him. After all, he never had a “conventional” mom, who could take care of him when he was sick, kiss him good night and make sure he always had everything he needed. 

Some would say you coddled him too much...And you didn’t care. Because that boy lived 10 years being the opposite of coddled. So what, if you’d cut the crust off of his sandwiches, or read him bed time stories every single night ? 

Damian loved it. As he often said, being a momma’s boy was “hardly something he was ashamed of”. He never felt loved and safe before, you bet he’d take every chance he got to be cared for. 

He never got to act like an actual kid. You allowed him to do just that, AND you made him feel like he belonged. Finally. Like he had an actual family. 

So...The day he heard about your absolutely awful periods, what did he do ? 

Every single day of your life with him, you had at least one nice intention to him. Wether it was baking his favorite cookies, or telling him how proud you were of him, you always had nothing but kindness for him, often going out of your way for your son. 

It was normal for you. Of course. And you did it with all your children...but you had to admit maybe Damian had just a little more of it, because he really never had anything like that to him. 

And to him, it only felt normal then, when you felt at your worst, that he’d be there for you exactly like you were there for him. 

During any mood swings, he’d have comforting words for you. He had little attentions for you that just made life easier. 

Again, it would greatly surprise anyone but his family, but when you had your periods, he did a lot of overly sappy little things. 

Like for example : every month, he wrote seven things he found extraordinary about you and would put them in a jar. Seven. The number of day in a week. And usually the number of day, give or take, your periods would last. 

The jar would be sitting right on your bedside table on the first day, with the indications you had to read one paper every morning, or every time you felt down (it was supposed to be one paper a day). Sometimes, you’d go through his seven messages in less than a day...and magically, the next day, the jar would be filled again. 

Damian made sure of it. 

This was just a small example. But it showed exactly what kind of boy your son really was. 

If he was heartless, a killer, someone destined to destroy the World...would he really put that much effort into making you feel love ? Into making you feel better any way he could ? 

You didn’t think so. The only way your son could ever “turn bad”, was if you (and Bruce) stopped caring for him. Left him alone (A/N : this is a CLEAR jab at current comics canon, if you know what I mean :I ). Only if he felt abandoned, unloved, and rejected. 

You knew your boy had, just like you, “rejection dysphoria”. It was hard for him to accept any kind of rejection, and it made him act out and hurt. But that was another story... 

Right now, all that mattered to you, is that you knew your son was always going to be there for you, just like you’d always be there for him. 

That he finally learned how to love, and care. That he would never unlearn it, as long as you lived. 

Your periods sucked. 

So bad. 

But Damian was a ray of light in the darkness of those seven dreaded days...

Duke 

Duke’s mom also had endometriosis. 

Over the years, he perfected a “special remedy” he always made her when she had her periods. 

He hesitated to make it for you. After all, it was something that made him bond greatly with his own mom...was making it for you, now, acceptable ? Did it mean he forgot about his mother ? 

No. No of course not. 

Duke scolded himself for even thinking that. You too, became his mom. He learned over the years that it was ok, to have two mom. That when they’ll find a cure for his parents, it wouldn’t take away the years you filled in for the mother role, and took care of Duke as if he was your own. 

So here we go. 

Some ginger. Some lemon. A dash of his little secret ingredients. Your favorite blend of tea. And it was done. 

He brought it to you, saying it always soothed his mom...

And just that. 

Just those words. It meant so much. 

“It always used to soothe my mom. Used to do it all the time, ever since I was five !” 

He said with a smile. 

It was something he used to do for his mom, and now he did it for you. Just this. Just that fact, it was enough to make you feel better. 

It didn’t take away the pain, but mentally ? It felt amazing. 

You drunk his concoction and...Oh god. 

Oh god it was disgusting. And...Ah. Yes. His mom probably pretended she liked it. “Ever since I was five !”. Ha. So cute. But also, it really was gross. 

At the same time, you felt a pleasant warmth spread through your body as the terrible aftertaste slowly faded. Duke smiled to you, and with a little mischief in his voice said : 

“It’s really gross, isn’t it ? But it does the trick haha” 

There was a few seconds of silence. During which you blinked at him, not quite registering what he just said. Until... 

You burst out laughing. The little mischievous smile, and the way he said “it’s really gross, isn’t it ?” was just too funny. 

Your communicative laugh spread to Duke, and as he laughs it makes you laugh even louder too and...You forget. 

For a moment you forget about your periods. The pain. The anguish. The emotional labor. This damn week of hell. 

You forget.

And you just laugh. 

You laugh alongside your son. 

Thomas (if you wonder who the H is Thomas, you can check my “Batmom” masterlists, he appears from the story “the great mall adventure” ^^)

Thomas must’ve been about four, when he first saw you having your periods. 

Your littlest baby was also one of the most sensitive out of them all (right along with Jason, the two of them cried their eyes out when they watched “Inside Out” and Bing Bong disappeared). Bruce always said he took that after you. And honestly, you couldn’t disagree. It’s true you could be very sensitive. 

So one morning, when he woke up and went to breakfast and heard you weren’t feeling right, he immediately went to you and...

Bruce found him an hour later, crying in his room. 

“Oh wow hey hey, what is it buddy ?” 

He asked, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Thomas might’ve been sensitive, but he rarely cried. He was just a very empathetic boy. But also a cheerful one, and he had a knack to see the good even in the worst situations. 

So seeing him sob like that, made Bruce’s heart drop. 

“Is mommy going to die ?!” 

It took Bruce a few seconds to get a hold of his racing heart. His son crying. And asking if you were going to die. It shortcircuited his brain for a few seconds. Until he realized what Thomas was talking about...

“Oh, oh no champ, no, mommy isn’t going to die.” 

Your kids were used to see you strong and fierce. Of course the first time your little one would see you on your period, he’d think something big was wrong.

He had just recently learned what death really mean (you can read about this here : The day he understand what Death means), and since then was so scared it’d happen to his parents. Or his siblings. Or anyone he knew, really... 

Picking up his son and slowly and softly tapping his back in soothing circles, he walked around the room and rocked him until the boy calmed down a bit, before trying to explain as best he could why mommy felt bad, without going in in too many details. 

Once Thomas understood this was just like when he got a fever that time, that it would pass, he felt much better. But also worst. Because his mommy wasn’t feeling well ! And it happened often ! 

Bruce reassured him that there were ways they could help you...And soooo : 

Thomas brought you hot water bottles, with the help of his dad (the bottles were almost as big as him), and ended up falling asleep  on one as it laid on your belly (he heard that humans’ body heat was very strong and wanted to “help the hot water bottle”). 

The water in the bottle became cold, and you removed it..Your son didn’t woke up, so you laid him back down on your belly. And he was warm and so tiny, and you loved him so much...It made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, to be surrounded by people like this little one. 

And all your kids. Alfred. Your friends. Broosh...You fell asleep with sweet dreams made of warmth and cuddles. 

Not long after, Bruce came by to check on you, finding both you and Tommy deeply asleep and...An overwhelming feeling of happiness took him over. 

You weren’t the only one feeling lucky. Except for Bruce...For Bruce it was even stronger, because after his parents died, he never thought he would be happy ever again. 

This was why he’d always be there for you. You gave him another family... 

His schedule was freed, and he had a busy day. A nap sounded perfect. Especially while nestled against you, with his little one right there. 

Dick came by in the afternoon, and found all of you like this. Bruce holding both you and his son, Thomas taking way more space than such a small body would make you thing he’d take. 

Dick snapped a picture, and send it to the group chat he had with his siblings and some other close friends and such (like Clark, Wally, Conner, Diana etc etc they used the group chat to gossip about Bruce, mainly). With the caption : “Big bad bat tamed by a four year old”. 

Cass send multiple hearteyes emojis. Jason said it was adorable and send a crying emoji, and didn’t care one bit what anyone would think of him saying such things. Damian yelled at Dick that he should’ve put the comforter back up on his baby brother and mom because it wasn’t properly put on !! Duke send a : “I’m downloading that picture for the next time he gets mad at us and we need to soften him up”. Tim replied with a gif of Maes Hughes from Full Metal Alchemist saying : “dis dad”. Clark said “they look so peaceful, you wouldn’t believe he threatened me just yesterday to punch me because I made a joke” to which Diana answered : “that joke was so bad I wanted to punch you to. Cute pic btw, give kisses to Tommy for me, you should come see me more, I just stocked my freezer with nothing but ice creams”..Everyone send a little comment about it. 

Because even superheroes, could have normal conversations about those they love. 

Suffering alone is a thing of the past

It’s funny. You couldn’t even remember, now, what it felt like “before”. 

Before. 

Before you met Bruce.

Before that first time he showed up to your apartment to take care of you. 

How were your periods before that ? The worst. 

Definitely. 

Actual Hell.

Not that they were feeling better now. Oh no. There were time your overdramatic self exclaimed : “uuuugh just kill me alreadyyyy” when the pain was too grand...But you weren’t alone anymore. 

That’s what made it a bearable moment of the month. 

It still felt as bad as it used to when you were younger. 

But it wasn’t just you agonizing in your bedroom all alone anymore. 

It wasn’t you wishing you’d have someone to take care of you, and to try and ease the pain. Not anymore. 

It wasn’t you crying with nobody to dry your tears anymore...

No. You had an entire army of people right there just for you. 

Alfred, your children, and most of all...Bruce. 

Your Broosh. 

Ah. If only some people could see this side of him you and your family knew. The caring and loving one. In a way though, it was rather comforting and made you feel special, that only you and your kiddos knew the real Bruce ? 

Of course  nowadays, some of his closest friends like Clark and Diana weren’t fooled anymore either. But they’d never see him the way you did, when you were in unbearable pain, and he was right there, drawing soothing circle on your back, keeping you warm and safe... 

This was only privy to you. 

Your Broosh. 

Yes. 

Your periods were still as painful as they used to. But now...

Now you weren’t alone anymore. 

The end. 

________________________________________________

Hey guys ! I hope you liked this :). As usual, feedbacks and reblogs are always welcomed ! (Especially lately, the reblog ratio seems at its worst haha). And again, I really hope you liked this. I was finally able to sit down and write after weeks of  being stuck in a depressed mood, so I’m quite excited about sharing this. But as usual, always a bit nervous that you’ll be disappointed blahblahblah low self-esteem and all that haha... :). I just hope this is to your liking. Thank you.  

[darkcitiesnluv]

hi babe if ure taking any requests, can i request roommates reader and taehyun studying tgt but ended up making out in the couch? ty!!!!

Hoped you like it! I really try my best to write(type) this nicely! @kkyubear

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" Taehyun and Y/n, y'all working together for this project, also class, don't forget to study this week for our exam on Friday...."  The flashback appeared back again for the fifth time today.

" Why did Mr.Kim, chose him as my partner....?" You mumbled to yourself as you took a sip from your strawberry boba drink. You're sitting at the boba drink restaurant by yourself, next to the window. You watch people pass by while thinking about the project, the exam, and.....that boy named Taehyun.

Why did it bother you so much about Taehyun being your partner for the project? Well.....Kang Taehyun is your roommate. He is a new student in the college you go to.....well for you he's new because you know half of the people on the campus and you have never seen him before until this year.

You remembered how surprised you felt when you saw the new super attractive silver strikes hair guy in your room, sitting at the dark blue sheet of his bed, reading a science book on his lap, a guitar laying next to him, his arms behind his head, showing his strong biceps that you couldn't take your eyes away from.

You remembered how his natural beautiful big eyes suddenly looked at your side making your heart jump a little. He gave you a smile that lasted 3 seconds before turning back to his book. You remembered how you felt that moment. You felt a little nervous and you felt the feeling of butterflies flying around your stomach almost making it ache.

Taehyun was a quiet guy. When he was out, he would always try to come to the tiny apartment early before eight of the night so he wouldn't have to wake you up in the middle of the night with his noises.

Both of you would just do their things and would have small talks like the good morning greetings, the goodnight byes, stuff about school and that's it.

In the middle of the year, you two started to become a little more comfortable with each other. You remembered the first night you felt in a great mood and felt confident to ask him if wanted to study with you. Taehyun nodded kindly with his bright smile and agreed. Both of you would study on the couch, books on the table that stand in the middle of the tiny living room, and snacks around the books and papers.

It became a habit to study together like this whenever you two were having a test. Soon you two became friends and you no longer felt shy talking to him. However you still have feelings for him, for your crush, but you always made sure not to make it obvious. At first, you founded wrong to like your friend but you thought it as

" it's just a crush, it'll last for a while, maybe when you two become close friends you will no longer see him as a crush".

You were wrong!

Kang is too damn attractive and looks attractive in anything he wears and in anything he does. His personality is just.... amazing! He is funny, has sarcastic humor, a little savage, he is smart and speaks beautifully. No wonder why you too are studying communications together. Kang Taehyun is just perfect for you. You couldn't help it to feel so attracted to these men.

After you're done going through your entrance of memories and thoughts you got a message from Taehyun.

TerryK🔥

Hey!! Y/nieee~ come home to study! Where are you? 😅

You smile at the way he spelled your name cutely. You forgot to mention his cuteness is just something else.

Me

Ok! I'll be there in a few minutes :)!

°°°

" Here, I brought Gimbap, Kimchi, and some snacks...." He grinned as he takes out the boxes from the bag.

" Love Gimbap and Kimchi...." You smiled, sitting next to him on the couch. You got out your journals and books to study.

°°°

" Wow, This is easy.....imma ace this exam....." He smirks to himself still reviewing his paper. " As always?..." You rolled your eyes.

" Y/nnie~ open your mouth, say ahhhh" he teases as he grabs the Gimbap with his fork over his other hand so it wouldn't drop, and push it towards your lips. You widen your eyes and slightly blush when you saw that coming.

Still, you obey and opened your mouth taking the bite. "Mmm~" you nodded and smiled happily.

"Good!" You said while chewing, your cheeks getting puffy. Taehyun giggle and mumbled

" cute ..". Still you heard that and that made you feel some type of way you can't explain.

Some time pass both of you still studying together on the same couch. Taehyun was still enjoying his kimchi. You watch how he ate it deliciously making you hungry again. You watch his hand, his manly veiny-looking hands holding on to the fork, taking the fork towards his mouth and taking a bite softly. Your mouth was watering by just watching him taking the bite and chewing it slowly. He close his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows together forming tiny lines on his forehead. He shook his head slightly enjoying the taste of kimchi.

'lucky kimchi....' you thought without realizing it.

There were times where you would think about Taehyun. Thinking about him in a then not so-most innocent and pure way and you felt ashamed. Like you said before he is one handsome man with an amazing athletic body so sometimes he would wake a tiny fire of desire inside of you. As always you're very respectful and never try anything funny towards him.

However, today you can feel the heat coming back again. Seeing him next to you so close, where you can see his little imperfections on his face, neck, hands and still you find the perfect. You feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and your heart beating fast. The desire to kiss was getting stronger. You didn't realize how close you were leaning towards hi him until suddenly looks away from his book and looks down at at at at your eyes with an intense stare. His big eyes move from your forehead, eyes, lips,  and lastly your lips. While you just stare at his lips the entire time.

" What are doing...." He whispered. His serious intense look not changing. His hot breath tickles your nose and cheek. You were feeling aroused by his stare, breath, and his whisper sexy voice.

" You should be staring down your sheet, not on my lips....." Taehyun said, leaning slowly towards you. " I know but I can't help it... would love to study your lips too..." You whispered back now looking at his eyes. Now you're no longer thinking straight.

" And how would you do that?" He whispered back staring back and ford on both of your eyes. He leaned even more closer making you lean away from a little. His hand sneakily touches your left hand that rested on the couch seat behind you. He clutched your hand tightly as his lips were centimeters close to your lips.

You couldn't hold it anymore and you are going to show him how to "study his lips". You slam your lips on his. It wasn't aggressive but not too soft, it was just right. Taehyun also attacks back, his left hand rested on your cheeks and neck, his other hand still holding your left hand. The slightly hard kiss became more passionately and rougher as now Taehyun press you against him so closely. His hand digs through your hair, and his other hand suddenly snakes around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hands run through his silver and black hair pulling his locks of hair.

The kiss was hard, rough, and passionately almost as if you two were eating up each other's mouths.

You felt this wasn't enough, you wanted to feel him even closer to you. You decided to get on top of his lap. You wrapped your legs around his torso. Now you can feel his ripped body and his everything so close to yours.

" Ahh, ~ Tae..... *kisses* you're so...*kisses* hot....*kisses, lip biting from him* mmm~ Taehyun~~......I like you". You said as you immediately pulled away to take a breath. You just realized what you said covering your mouth.

" As my friend!" You said with a terrifying expression.

Taehyun chuckled and raised an eyebrow. " Are you sure?..... because friends don't kiss, especially like we did....." He whispered the last sentence, leaning close again to peck on your lips.

" I want more...." He whispered to you as he kiss your cheeks. You smiled shyly and look down away from his gaze. Your cheeks turning into a pink shade. Taehyun grabs your chin softly and made you face him. He leans slowly and kisses your lips. You melted into his kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck rightly, pressing your body against him even more. His hands roamed around your back and sides. Sometimes he'll run his hands through your hair just like you did with his.

You two enjoy this intimate moment with each other for while. Enjoying this new feeling you two discover together. Now, this is happening.....it makes you wonder what will happen next? What would happen to this relationship? You will decide what your fate with Taehyun would be in the future, for sure you two won't be staying like friends forever? Right?......

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Thank you for reading!

[wowitsel]

a little bit of me on you

tattoo shop! calum hood x gn! reader

summary: tattoo artist calum hood lets the reader give him a tattoo

word count: 1.3k

Leaning back in your chair, you admired your boyfriend as he sat at his desk sketching a tattoo idea. A late night at the tattoo shop had led you to go hang out with your boyfriend, Calum, at his work. It was often routine for you to hang around the shop while Calum finished up. It gave you time to hang out, even with both of your hectic schedules. It was always nice to hang out there after hours, it was oddly calm.

Sneaking up behind Calum, you got a better look at what he was drawing. Peeking at his work, you enquired, “So… whatcha working on?”

Stopping his sketching to talk to you, he responds, “Ahh just a floral piece for a client. You like it so far?” As he sees you nod, he continues, “You really should let me tattoo you again.”

Calum had given you several tattoos. With the two of you dating, it felt silly for you to get one from anyone else. He always gave you them free of charge (despite the argument from you), and it didn’t hurt that he was an insanely talented tattoo artist.

It was no secret that Calum didn’t contemplate much with his tattoos. With the sheer amount of them, he really couldn’t have. Add in him being a tattoo artist, and you have a man who gets tattoos in a very rash manner.

With this knowledge, staring at the man in front of you, a lightbulb lit up in your brain as you came up with an idea. You walk up behind the man, and hug him from behind, staring up at him. “Hey Cal, I have an idea…” Intrigued, Calum nodded to encourage you to keep speaking, “What if I give you a tattoo… I mean it could just be a small lil thing, and I know I’m not the best artist but I thought it could be fun.”

Calum surprised you, and he promptly responded, “I’m down” with a smile on his face.

“For real?”

“For real.”

Now, smiling like a maniac, you quickly ran your hand through Calum’s hair, while asking him; “So, what do you want for a tattoo? Try and go a little easy on me. You are the professional here.”

Calum sighed dramatically, “Well, you could do a smiley face or a heart, it’s really up to you, I’m down for anything, my love.”

“I have a scary amount of power in my hands don’t you think?”, you said in a disney villain-esque voice.

Calum gives you a look, while teasingly saying, “well, maybe not anything”

“Can’t take it back now, darling” you reply.

You then grabbed his hand to pull him away from his desk; “Now, c’mon let’s go!”

Pulling him toward his tattooing station, and gently shoved him down onto the chair.

“So you’re just gonna free-hand this?” you hear Calum say to you.

“Umm yes?” you answered unsure of how he would respond.

Calum just shrugged it off and nonchalantly replied, “Ok”.

Now, you had watched and received enough tattoos to generally know what you were doing, so you weren’t too nervous. That being said, you were going to be putting something on his body permanently, so it was a bit of a big deal. Walking over to the table with all the equipment, you stood there standing in front of it, just wondering where to even start.

Calum seemed to have read your mind at the moment. Getting up from the chair, and asking you, “You want me to set it all up for you?”

“Yes please,” you said, giving him a small smile and taking his place sitting on the chair.

Fidgeting with the loose thread hanging off the chair, you tell Calum, I think I’m gonna do a smiley face like you said. I don’t really trust myself enough to do much else”

Calum smiled at your little quip at your tattooing skills and replied, “Sounds good baby.”

Finishing up everything he needed to do to set up, Calum brought the tattoo gun, and everything else needed over to you and took a seat again once you stood up.

“So how much will you hate me if I mess up?” you said in a jokingly curious tone.

“You’re not giving me much confidence in your tattoo skills, my love” you hear him say as you situate yourself above his arm where he wanted the tattoo.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine” you sigh as you pat him on the arm. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be”

As you press the tattoo gun down onto Calum’s skin, he barely shows any signs of discomfort. “Is this really not hurting? Cause you seem to just be chillaxin’ or something, babe, I don't really get it. Every time I get a tattoo I wince and whine like a little baby. Am I a wimp for pain or something?”

Calum just replies to you by saying, “Baby, I've gotten a lot of tattoos, calm down, and pay more attention to the tattoo, it's gonna be on my body forever!”

You decided to listen to Calum’s advice and focus on the task at hand. Granted, it wasn’t a very big tattoo, so theoretically it shouldn’t have taken long, but you were being extra careful and slow, because of the whole “permanent” thing.

Getting into a grove, there was a nice silence and calm feeling in the air. Getting comfortable in the chair, and used to the feeling of the tattoo, Calum started to half-sing, half-hum some random tune he had thought of.

Smiling, and listening to him, you told him, “You sound good, you should become a singer or something”

“Ha! Imagine that; Calum Hood, rockstar. I could never.” Calum says to you, and you both chuckle at the thought. Calum leans his head over to check on the progress of the tattoo as you finish the last line in his tattoo.

“I’m done!” you say to him with a big smile on your face.

Calum gives you a look of admiration while telling you, “You did amazing, I’m so proud of you baby”

“I’m glad you think so. Now, I’m gonna go get the bandages and all that other shit so it doesn’t get infected or something,” you say getting up.

“Look at you being all professional, huh?” Calum says with a teasing smile.

“Yup!” you start to walk away when you realize that you have no idea where any of that stuff is; “So… ummm, the thing is…”

“You need me to get it for you?” Calum slyly says.

“Yes,” you squeak out meekly.

“I got you, baby,” Calum says while walking toward the supplies drawer.

After making his way back, Calum starts to put on the petroleum jelly on the fresh tattoo, and tries to put the bandage on himself, but struggles because of the position of the tattoo on his arm.

“Here, let me help you,” you said, grabbing the bandage out of his hand.

Wrapping it around his arm, you kiss the fully wrapped tattoo, and then kiss Calum on the lips. “Thank you for letting me do this Cal” you whisper against his lips.

“Thank you for not messing up,” he says, making you laugh.

“Now come on, let’s go cuddle on the couch”

After making your way to the waiting area of the tattoo shop, Calum plops down onto the couch, so he’s laying down on it, and pats the space next to him signaling for you to lay next to him, which you do.

As you lay down on the couch, Calum wraps his arm around you and kisses you on the forehead.

“This was fun,” you whisper to him.

“Yeah, it was.” you hear Calum whisper back as you see him start to yawn.

“You tired baby?” you say as you snuggle into him more.

“Yeah” Calum says weakly as you see him slowly fall asleep.

You smile at him as you begin to fall asleep yourself, so happy.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Guest Side Story

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Sarah Wilson Rating: T Word Count: 3214

Summary: Sam told Bucky not to flirt with Sarah. But this is her house, so Bucky's pretty sure she makes the rules.

Bucky’s missed white lies. Ones that don’t hurt anybody.

“Is that cigarette smoke I smell on your coat, James Barnes?” “No, Ma. ’Course not.”

“And you’re sure this dame knows it’s my arm she’ll be on?” “Sure, Steve. She’s been after me to fix the two of you up for weeks.”

Stuff like that.

Past few years, Bucky’s either been transparent or a brick wall, all lies or all truth. Which one he loses more sleep over just depended on the day. The most human thing, he’s learning, is to work with a little of both: fact and fiction. Give something here, hold something back there. Lying doesn’t have to be mean-spirited and telling the truth doesn’t have to make him feel hollow and guilty. Maybe you can only realize this kinda thing when you find your way home, even if the home isn’t yours.

Bucky’s standing in the kitchen listening to Cass teach him how to fish. It’s purely theoretical, no gear involved, just the overexaggerated motion of Cass’s arm as he mimes casting. Laughing, Bucky lightly grabs the boy’s elbow before it can collide with the refrigerator on an especially big swing. Cass downsizes his demonstration without pausing the excited flow of his instructions.

AJ catches Bucky’s eye; from the look on his face, he’s beginning to suspect that Bucky might already know how to fish. While Cass is focused hard on his hands pretending to show how to fit live bait onto a hook, Bucky smiles at AJ over the smaller boy’s head and raises a finger to his lips. White lies. Let Cass believe he’s the expert.

When Cass is winding down, Bucky moves around him with a grin, carrying an empty plate to the sink.

“I got it!” AJ declares, whisking it from Bucky’s hand and pumping a squirt of dish soap in the center while his other hand runs the hot water.

Cass slotted the Pop-Tarts the plate lately held into the toaster for him (no better end-of-the-day snack, Bucky was told) and now AJ’s cleaning up. They’re a hospitable family, all day long. No phoniness, no insincere offers of help that they’re hoping Bucky won’t take them up on. He actually had to race the kids to the shed to store a toolbox earlier. On the boat, Bucky has room to put in the effort for the Wilsons, but inside the walls of their home he’s not allowed to do a damn thing because he’s a guest. Per square foot of property, he doesn’t think he’s ever been treated this well in someone else’s house.

“Fine,” Bucky concedes, “but I’m doing all the dishes tomorrow—breakfast, lunch, and dinner. And don’t get up early to drink a glass of orange juice and try to wash it before I’m awake, ’cause I’ll be listening.”

The boys giggle and Bucky leans against the counter, hovering while AJ hands the plate off for Cass to wipe dry and pretending not to listen to Sam and Sarah talking in the next room.

…But there isn’t a full wall separating the kitchen from the living room and Sam knows Bucky’s hearing’s good, right? He doesn’t think they’re discussing anything that private and if Sam’s annoyed with him later for what he supposes Bucky might’ve heard, Bucky’ll just offer up another white lie and swear he couldn’t hear a thing. And Sarah… Sarah wouldn’t think any worse of him if she knew. Bucky imagines she’d have a lot of compassion for his frequent urge to give Sam a hard time just for the hell of it. He flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, just to see her, and concentrates on what they’re saying, giving himself vague permission because he overheard his name.

“This was your idea,” Sarah’s saying. “You brought the stray cat home, just like when we were kids.”

“Don’t compare him to something cute,” Sam complains. Bucky’s mouth tenses to keep his smile from spreading too far.

“He is a guest in my home, Sam, and he’s more than earned it after the work he’s been putting in with the boat.”

“And what about the work you’ve been putting in watching him do that work?”

“Sam. Grow up.” Sarah’s voice is playful and Bucky almost turns, wondering what her expression looks like.

“So you’ve just been appreciating his skill with a wrench and some sandpaper,” Sam says skeptically.

“If I’m also appreciating his shoulders in that shirt— if—” she emphasizes when Sam tries to interrupt, “—it’s nobody’s business but mine.”

“Ok, you definitely can’t have him sleeping on the couch.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Try to sneak him to my bedroom after lights out? With you listening, trying to catch us? Uh uh. Your sister is a grown woman with two children, a home, and a boat she couldn’t manage to sell, and she can lust where she damn well pleases.”

Bucky snorts out a laugh and AJ gives him a funny look. Kid’s too perceptive.

“He’s tricky,” Sam lectures. “You can’t see it, but I do. I’ve been around him a hell of a lot more. You think he smiles like that at everybody? If he smiles at me at all, I gotta assume he just looked up and saw a meteor hurtling towards where we’re standing and is only smiling because we’ve got seconds to live and I won’t be able to tell anybody.”

“You are hilarious.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re telling me your friend is charming. That’s what you’re describing. Don’t I deserve to be charmed? Where else is he gonna sleep, huh? With you? In one of the boys’ little beds while they share the other one? Because I know you’re not suggesting we skip the pretense and put him right in with me.”

Sam lets out a noise of obvious frustration.

“Time to intervene,” Bucky tells Cass and AJ, leaving them to swap confused shrugs in the kitchen as he saunters into the living room.

“Hey,” Sam greets stonily, arms crossed over his chest.

Just for fun, Bucky decides to be all the friendlier.

“It’s so great of you to put me up. Thanks, Sarah. This beats a hotel by a mile.”

“Our gourmet kitchen does offer an impressive range of sugary cereal,” she jokes. “I might even cook you boys a special breakfast tomorrow before you head back to the dock.”

Bucky’s grin widens.

“Oh yeah? I wouldn’t wanna—”

“No, it’s no trouble—”

“Well, that would be—”

“Both of you stop it,” Sam orders.

“Sam, go outside,” Sarah orders right back. “Play some tag with your nephews.”

“Sarah, I’m beat. We’ve been working on that boat all day.”

“Mhmm, you and the rest of the neighbourhood. You worked all day and you come home and there’s still two kids to entertain. But guess what?” She smiles deviously at her brother and throws a few fake punches at his stomach. “You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon! Looks like you’re special after all. Me and Bucky here know you’ve still got some gas in the tank. Go on.”

Sam looks fairly planted to the spot as he glares from his sister to Bucky, but he eventually moves with a lurching step.

“I’m gonna be right outside,” he warns.

Bucky sidesteps out of his path and says nothing, though it’s hard to resist the instinct to egg him on.

“We’re gonna have a super-secret discussion about which towels he can use,” Sarah goads at her brother’s back.

Sam ignores her, corralling his nephews in the kitchen and guiding them out the door into the fading daylight with a hand on each of their narrow backs.

“Great kids,” Bucky observes.

Sarah nods, watching her family disappear, then turns to him.

“We’re not really gonna talk about towels.”

“No?”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise in surprise and delighted anticipation until Sarah grabs a folded blanket off the back of the couch and passes it to him.

“We’re making up the couch.”

“Oh.”

This is ok too. Actually, really nice, standing next to Sarah and unfolding the blanket as she stuffs a pillow into a clean case. Her eyes find his already on her and he swears he almost blushes; he’s been smoothing out the same crease in this blanket for a good thirty seconds with no result, just watching her easy movements, the way she flips her braids back when they fall forward over her shoulder.

“I hope you’re comfortable,” she says, lingering once they’re done.

“I woulda slept on the floor. A closet, even, like Harry Potter.”

“You read Harry Potter? Don’t tell the boys—they’ll be bugging you to play wizards with them.”

Bucky laughs and shakes his head.

“Nah, I just watched the movie.”

“Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“You really better not bring it up then,” Sarah advises. “They’d try to tell you everything at once.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to get in out of my depth.”

It feels like a significant look they exchange after his words. Bucky wants it to be—he thinks he does—but he feels awkward, romantically clumsy. Heartstrings tied together like shoelaces, waiting to trip him up. He’s been telling himself she’s only being kind, but after eavesdropping on her conversation with Sam, he knows she’s interested. In his shoulders at the very minimum. Was that right? His shoulders? Just in case, Bucky does his best to square them. Can’t hurt.

He’s fucking ecstatic when Sarah does glance down briefly, her gaze returning to his face with something flustered in it. Sure, she’s a mom and she runs a business, but it’s like she told Sam: she deserves to be charmed. Bucky’s not entirely sure he’s doing it right though.

“So,” she says, “Sam was just being a pain when he tried to convince me you can’t sleep on the couch because you’ve got a bad back, right?”

Bucky sighs but keeps smiling. It’s natural in her presence.

“I’d say that’s him making old-man jokes about me.”

“I apologize for my brother and his bad manners.”

“Ah, he’s not totally wrong,” he concedes, perching on the arm of the couch. “These last few birthdays have required more candles than you could fit on a cake.”

“Then you just have to get yourself a bigger cake.”

Bucky laughs.

“I guess optimism’s pretty much a family trait?”

“We work at it. They say you need to take the good with the bad, but they don’t tell you that means creating the good out of nothing a lot of the time, if you want any at all. The Wilsons worked that out some time ago, so we mostly do alright.”

“It’s a good feeling to be around,” he tells Sarah earnestly. Clearing his throat, he gets to his feet. “Feels good, being around you.”

“We’re… I’m happy you could stay with us.”

The light’s softened in the room and her voice has gone with it. Bucky shifts on his feet.

“It’s a pleasure to be here,” he assures her.

Sarah’s eyelashes flutter when she looks from his mouth to his eyes. Probably too try-hard to bite his lip now. God, Sam thinks Bucky’s so suave with Sarah, but it feels like he’s only got one move and it’s fucking smiling. Some Casanova he is. Sarah, meanwhile, is beautiful and authoritative and generous and moving closer to toss the pillow he’ll rest his head on tonight onto the couch.

“Anything else you need to be comfortable?” she asks, gaze slipping from one of his eyes to the other. “Another pillow? Pajamas?”

“I’ve got some, but…”

“But?”

Sarah gives him a questioning look and Bucky starts summoning the courage to make a move. He’ll touch her waist—no, take her hand. He’ll cup her sweet face so there’s no doubt what he means.

“But,” he picks up, “if I get cold in the night…”

There’s longing in her eyes, Bucky knows it, but Sam bangs in the screen door right then, one nephew squealing where he’s been slung over Sam’s shoulder.

“Well,” Sam announces loudly to the house at large, “that’s it! No more gas in the tank! Everybody get to bed!”

Sarah appears sorry as she steps back. Bucky almost reaches out to pull her in, to take another shot with another lousy line. Shit, he’s bad at this.

“There are more blankets in the hall closet,” she says, and slips away.

“Thank you,” he calls after her.

Sam walks past, Cass still dangling upside-down over his back while AJ runs ahead, and watches Bucky like a hawk (or some other bird of prey) as he digs through his overnight bag. What’s Sam expecting him to pull out? A strip of condoms? Bucky extracts a green toothbrush and holds it up with an expression of fake wonder. Sam rolls his eyes and heads off down the hall.

They are going to bed early, barely 9pm. That’s probably late for the kids though. Bucky’s pleasantly weary after a day outdoors, more working than talking, feeling like part of something as the Wilsons’ community came together to repair the boat. Seeing Sarah throughout. Flashing Bucky a smile while she spoke to a neighbour, grasping his outstretched hand to let him help her aboard so she could see their progress, checking Sam’s work like she’s his foreman while Bucky grinned and watched the siblings good-naturedly pick at each other. Sam was probably out like a light and Bucky should be too.

He’s not.

He can’t get to sleep right away, but it’s peaceful to lie here on the couch, on his back, while the house gets dark and darker. Sarah left the nearest window cracked for him and a gentle breeze washes in with the chirp of insects. Bucky’s already looking forward to being woken by the sun streaming through in the morning. It’d be good to get from now to daylight in a single stretch of sleep; that’s what he fantasizes about while he lies on his back: no nightmares. His head’s propped up by the pillow he tells himself smells like Sarah, though it probably just smells like her laundry soap.

It’s hard to put his finger on what’s missing, why he can’t fall asleep, until he hears the soft shuffle of footsteps on carpet. They’re too close together to be Sam’s—either hesitant or made by child-sized feet. Bucky cranes his neck around, expecting to see someone walk past on their way to the kitchen for a glass of water. His gaze roams over nothing for a minute, then he slumps back as the footsteps retreat. Maybe it was Sam after all, getting up to look in on his nephews or something. It’s the sorta thing Bucky would do if he were an uncle; he’d treasure the time with those kids, try to remember everything about his visit so he could hang on to it when he found himself half a world away, in Berlin or Riga or Madripoor.

He’s settling, trapping the blanket against his chest with a heavy hand, when he hears the footsteps approach again. Then back away seconds later. Slowly, Bucky starts to smile to himself. It’s Sarah. Can only be her. She’s either trying to psych herself up to come in here and talk to him and failing, or trying to resist venturing down the hall and succeeding.

On her next attempt, she gets closer, and Bucky sits up, kicking the blanket aside, and drops his feet to the floor in anticipation of her rounding the corner. He’s nervously gripping the couch cushion on either side of his knees when she does.

“You sneaking past Sam?” he asks quietly.

Sarah jumps, pressing a hand to her chest.

“You scared me. I wasn’t sure you’d be awake.”

Bucky shrugs, dreamily fixated on her smile. One of her neighbours turns on their porchlight and now Sarah can probably see his smile too.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he says.

“Shoot. Did you need something else?”

Kinda funny how she’s pretending she was coming out here for another reason and is just making a detour for him. He knows better, but he’s got enough remnants of being a gentleman not to call her out on it.

“Nah. It’s nothing to do with you.” Bucky stares at her a few seconds and changes his mind. “You know what? Actually, it is you.”

“What is?” Sarah asks with a hushed, confused laugh.

“The reason I can’t get to sleep. Sarah…”

But she smiles and does what he did to the boys earlier—holds a finger to her lips.

With the confidence of a woman at ease in her own home and her own body, she steps forward. She wore a yellow t-shirt today, but the one she wears now is pale pink. It’s loose and worn and reveals the strong, elegant curve of her shoulder when she moves and it slips. Gazing up at her, Bucky shifts until he feels the back of the couch. His hands hover in the air as Sarah digs one knee, then the other, into the cushion on either side of him. She lowers herself onto his thighs.

Moving slow like the hour, deep like the black sky, Bucky runs his hands up her back.

Sarah’s palms land on his shoulders and, smiling, she confesses to him, “I like these.”

He’s smirking when she ducks her head to kiss him.

Now that he has her here—on his lap, in his arms—Bucky forgets every way he wanted to touch her earlier. How he was gonna woo her with tender contact applied just right. Well, thank god for Sarah. She sets the pace of the kiss and, when his hands go still at her upper back, reaches around to bring one of them back down to her waist. He can feel that there’s no bra beneath her shirt.

“Rusty,” he breathes when their mouths slide apart.

“You were on that old boat all day,” she reminds him. “You know I’ve got patience for rusty.”

Still, Bucky wants to do a little better, prove that maybe he’s what she had in mind when she decided he was worth smiling at. He cradles Sarah closer, pulling her in, dipping his fingers into the valley of her spine when she arches into him. They kiss firmer, then faster. At her quick nod of encouragement, he moves his hands to her hips. Lower.

“Sarah?” Sam slurs sleepily from down the hall. “You outta bed?”

Sarah presses a hand to Bucky’s chest and pushes off his lap, other hand over her mouth to muffle her laughter. He chuckles too.

“As the Falcon, timing is one of his greatest strengths.”

“And as his sister,” Sarah counters, “it gets on my last nerve.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna say that, but…” Bucky grins.

“Sarah?” Sam calls out again.

She sighs.

“Is he trying to wake the boys?” She takes a step away from the couch, wearing a regretful smile. “I better go.”

Bucky catches himself before he can blurt out I’ll miss you. Overeager fool.

“See you in the morning?” Sarah checks, something shy about her now, but not in a bad way. Cautiously hopeful, Bucky thinks. He’s been feeling that way himself.

He gives her one more smile for the road.

“You bet.”

[redrosesartcabin]

So yeah, I wrote the thing based on an anon message for @itsme-star

I made it a Barley x (female) reader (based on my self insert character) fanfic ‘cause I had to be a little self indulgent lmao

I hope you enjoy it! It turned out longer than I had planned xD

——————————————————

The double-decker couch

Barley x (female) reader fanfiction

———

Around three months ago:

Y/n’s boyfriend, Barley Lightfoot, had knocked on her window… with small stones… in the middle of the night:

At first her ear just twitched and the noise had mashed with the dream she was having, but the more the noise repeated, the more her consciousness felt pulled into the physical realm again, and with a groan, she had to face the reality that the noise would not stop until she got up (she already had a suspicion as to who was causing the noise).

With a heavy sigh, y/n forced herself from under her comfortable blanket, before ripping the window open.

‘Of course it’s him’, she thought, looking down at Barley as he waved his hands up at her, somehow wide awake.

‘How much energy can a person have?’, she asked herself, before she motioned with her hands, that she’d come outside.

“What in the world are you doing here?”, she asked as she arrived, whisper-yelling at him.

“Well you know how it is my lady: sometimes one just drives around at night after finishing a campaign of quests of yore and sees the poster of a double-decker bus and then one might think: ‘Wouldn’t it be cool if one could have a couch after that structure?’ After having had thought about a new couch for a while and ‘wouldn’t it be cool, if one might be able to build that with their girlfriend?’”

“I can’t say I relate, though I am impressed by one having the idea”, she said, deliberately accentuating the word ‘one’, as she couldn’t now but smile at her beautiful dork, “And I have to say I love the idea, though I still have to decide whether it was worth waking me up at three a.m… but for now I’ll just say yes, because I love you too much to be mad at you for this”

“I know: I’m irresistible”, he winked, pulling her closer to him and engaging her in a sickeningly romantic kiss.

“As nice as this is, I would still like to catch up on some sleep. We’ll write later and you tell when we should start building”

“I actually thought… you know… that maybe now-”

“Don’t push it”

“Right”

Now:

It hadn’t been easy. First they had to scavenge several junkyards for old couches (because let’s be real: They were both poor college students and buying material or new couches just was too expensive), who weren’t completely busted. Then they had to figure out how to build the thing.

After studying art for a while, where y/n had to do a bunch of installation projects, she had gotten significantly better at building things with woods and such, though she still wasn’t an expert. And whilst Barley also got crafty from time to time, he also wasn’t a master.

But somehow, after sweat, and even a couple of tears after y/n once got her hand stuck under one of the couches, they had finished it: The double decker couch.

“This-”, Barley said, pointing his finger at it, “This is beautiful”.

It was a yellow and a green couch, connected through metal poles and stabilized with old wood planks with two ladders placed on top of it and just enough space between the couches, so that one could sit up straight. It sort of looked like a bunk bed, but with couches.

“It is. It really is”, y/n agreed, looking at her bandaged hand, “totally worth busting my hand”

“Totally worth going through every junkyard in the city”, Barley added.

“Totally worth being awake once for 48 hours”, she added as well.

“This should be awarded some kind of price… maybe I’d also just be happy for some money for a wellness weekend ‘cause my back could really need a nice massage”, Barley groaned, touching the small of his back.

“Hard agree”

They stayed standing there for a while, looking at it, before y/n occurred a question that should’ve occurred to her much sooner.

“So-uhm-”, she started, “what do we actually do with it now?”, she asked

“Sit on it of course. You sit below and I above so I can feed you grapes like you’re a roman emperor”, Barley explained matter of factly.

“That sounds lovely darling but that’s not what I mean”

“What seems to be the issue then?”he asked, a little frustrated. What could she possibly have to say now? After so much hard work?

“I mean… where do we put it?”, she asked with a sincere expression which immediately washed away his annoyance, “because it certainly won’t stay in my parents basement”, she stated.

“It’s certainly more worthy than this old, dusty room with your family's junk. And also because this place is crawling with bugs that I will have to remove every time because you’ll just screech and run away until it magically disappears”

“Hey!”, y/n interjected

“It's true!”

“Ok yeah fair enough, though seriously- where? I also can bet’ya we can’t put it anywhere in our homes either. It probably barely fit under the ceiling”

“Yeah no”

A moment of contemplative silence spread across them.

After a while, Barleys thoughts wandered to the night where he had gotten the idea. He thought about his beloved car-

‘OH. MY. GOD. That’s it!’, he thought to himself.

“I got it!”, he then yelled excitedly, his face contorted into one of the most adorable expressions y/n had ever seen anyone wear. No matter what it would be: She couldn’t but say yes to that smile.

Still she asked, “What’ya got?”

“You know how I got my idea from a poster with a double-decker bus?”, he asked her, still smiling like he had won the lottery

“Yes?”

“And you know how I have a van, right?”

“No”, she answered sarcastically, “I know absolutely nothing about your most prized possession of a van that you called Guenivere the second after you sacrificed your first Guenivere when on a quest-”

“Ok I got the gist”, he chuckled, “but ok hear this: Since I have this wonderful van, this wonderful BIG van-”

“Wait a minute: You really want to put the couch in-”, she interrupted as she realized what he was saying, but got immediately interrupted back as he realized she had caught on

“Yes! I absolutely am”

“Dear lord… but ok I have no better idea, let’s do it”

“YES”

“Barley I am telling you, this is NOT working”, y/n huffed as she let her side of the construction gently land on the ground once again.

“Come on, just one more time!”, Barley pleaded.

“You’ve been saying ‘just one more time’ for an hour!”, she argued, “there is no way around: this just doesn’t fit inside the van. You underestimated Guenivere”

“Hey! There is no underestimating Guenivere! It’s not her fault”, he pouted.

“Ok ok ok... Sorry Gueni”, y/n said, giving the car a sincere pat on one of the back doors. She has gotten used to treating the car similar to a pet, “but seriously: We’ve been trying this at every angle, and as cool as Guenivere is, she can’t magically shapeshift”

“Magically shapeshift”, Barely repeated her last words, suddenly deep in thought, before an “ohhhh”, sound escaped him, “wait here my lady, I’ll be back in a sec”

“O...k”, she said, a little confused.

Five minutes later, she saw Ian storm out of his house, his hands clenched around his magic staff, with Barley closely behind him. “WHAT'S THE EMERGENCY?”Ian yelled as he came to a hold, which caused his brother to almost crash into him.

“I need you to make Guenivere big enough so that our self made double-decker couch fits into her”, Barely explained, breathing as though he had just run from death.

For a moment nobody said anything to that before Ian and y/n both shouted

“WHAT?”,at the same time.

“So much for an emergency”, Ian also mumbled, a little annoyed at his brother's antics.

“I mean: If she’s too small, then we can just make her bigger, right?”

“Technically yes but I think you didn’t consider a very small, tiny detail”, Ian commented.

“And what would that be?”, Barley asked irritated, not understanding what the issue was.

“You are aware as a supposed magic expert, that I can’t only enlarge the trunk, right? I would have to make the entire car big, and that would lead-”

“-to the entire street being filled with the car”, y/n finished the thought, apologetically laying her hand on Barleys shoulder, “I’m sorry my love. It was a nice thought”

“Dang it”, Barley breathed out, “I was looking forward to make my own uber-van-couch-double-decker-business”

“Hm”, y/n simply hummed. She had known from the beginning it would probably go south, but his enthusiasm had given her hope.

“Sorry Barley”, Ian said quietly, now feeling bad for having been so harsh beforehand , before slowly heading inside again.

Y/n and Barely sat down on the edge of Guenivere’s trunk, tired and disappointed that it all hadn’t turned out like they wanted as they looked at their creation.

Y/n leaned against Barley’s shoulder, lovingly rubbing her cheek against him like a cat (she loved doing that).

After a while Barley decided he had enough of sulking, standing up to go to the front to put on some good old metal (which luckily she enjoyed too).

As he however returned to the trunk, he noticed some ropes laying around.

He had used ropes last time to tie up some of the material he had bought for their project, so they wouldn’t move around- what if though…

“Ok I’ve had enough”, Barley decided, “I WILL have my double-decker-couch-van for more people to ride with me and my buddies and if its the last thing I’m gonna do!”

“Barley, what are you-”, y/n wanted to ask, but as she saw him pick up the ropes from the trunk floor, she understood, “- Are you sure this will work out?”

“Nope”, he answered truthfully, “but I will surely try!”

She was still skeptical, but at the same time she would try anything with him, and if it meant helping him tie a double-decker-couch to the roof of his van.

“If you believe it can be done, I will too”, she smiled, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “let’s do this!”

It was eight p.m. The sun was almost behind the horizon and the streetlamps threw dodgy looking lights in the middle of the street and kept the corners dark.

But the elven couple, who stood in front of a yellow van with a double-decker couch tied to its roof, couldn't help but see what they had accomplished: Which was accomplishing what, at least the female elf, had thought was impossible… yet again.

“I can’t believe that worked”, Y/n mumbled.

“Told ya”, Barley hushed back.

“Should we drive around? See if anyone is crazy enough to go on a drive?”, she asked.

“You bet we are. And tomorrow… and whenever we can. I’ll be the driver and you the tourist guide.. or maybe some kinda sturdess, after all you’re good lookin’”

“Oh hush”, she giggled, visibly blushing

“And-”, he continued, though not without giving her a good wink after his compliment, “then we’re gonna show the dear people of this town another perspective to life”

“That we can promise”, she laughed, “that we sure can”

[jiminrings]

hey hannah! hope you are doing great darling ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ i may have a request in mind, a university/college au with jock!jk and shy art major!yn or an olympics au? with olympic athlete!jk and olympic athlete!yn (you decide which sports!) thank you so much in advance ♡

never (k)not you

pairing: jungkook x y/n

wordcount: 5k

glimpse: established relationship ft. jock!jk and shy art major!y/n, y/n gets an unexpected pep talk and jungkook doubts himself, and either so much tears or so much dUST according to kook

notes: baby ok FIRST OF ALL, i’m so sorry i only got to write this now :(( it’s been three months since you sent in this request bUT well it’s here now :D thank you so much for requesting and waiting!! i really hope ur still here or else i-i... will lose it

if you squint, best friend!tae is actually rich kid tae both from the art major drabble and insufferable!!

lunch with taehyung either makes the both of you the LOUDEST motherfuckers in the planet or it’s just comfortable silence

comfortable silence’s more common whenever the two of you are in public because to put it simply

he’s cold and you’re shy!! makes sense

but god just mention his girlfriend’s name oNCE and he’ll talk your ear off and you get genuinely excited when he is

he just needs to mention gouache for less than a second and you will genuinely freak

then suddenly the both of you are the chattiest beings ever and absolutely no one will yield until they get the final say

but this

this just feels weird...

because it’s lunch and you’re not talkative and the silence is most definitely not comfortable

you just know tae has something up his sleeve and will probably catch you off-

“are you and jungkook a thing?”

...

......

it’s never actually registered in your head that you and jungkook are a THING but absolutely no one knows

literally no one

not even the dust living underneath your bedframe!! or if guardian angels existed, then they’d probably be clueless as fuck

lol wait what was that cold gust of wind on ur arms

jungkook is the dreamiest man alive and he’s been your boyfriend for what?? two years now??

and the two of you, and more of him actually, insisted to keep it private

your relationship is none of anyone’s business and it uh.,. it literally seems to be that way because sometimes even yOU forget that you’re in a relationship

jungkook avoids you like the plague and you keep to yourself like you do with all your gouache

this dynamic of no one knowing has been so instilled in you that tae’s innocent (?) question is enough to make you spiral little by little

taehyung was just harboring an idea ok

because like two days ago when you went out with him and his girlfriend for ice cream, jungkook was there too by himself

and that just seems like pure coincidence

but then they dOn’t seem like coincidences anymore when he realizes on the same day how many classes he was in where you were in

and you don’t even have the same major!!!

or when he’s walking you home because your apartment is literally on the right side of his girlfriend’s (changbin’s on the left) and he’s taking every possibility he gets

but it just so happens that uh... jungkook’s always there from a distance? like when the two of you are walking and that guy just hAD to be there at the back??

goddamn it tae should’ve gotten his parents’ offer for personal security while he’s studying in campus :((

“woah woah wOAH what’s the matter?” you panic when he shoves you inside your apartment the moment you manage to open it

“this fucking jungkook guy is either stalking you or me and it’s starting to get on my nerves!!”

“... taehyung-“

and then he realized that oh... ok... i see

what if this guy has a crush on you??

but it didn’t make sense because why would this soccer guy (no offense) that’s a jock (no offense) who always either looks high with how giggly he is (no offense) or bereaved with how he scowls (no offense) could POSSIBLY like you???

you who’s the art major (no offense) with your clothes almost exactly like he is (no offense) that he has an inkling that either you were copying him or him copying you (no offense) and the shyness that you absolutely wouldn’t talk to anyone unless they go first and tHAT even became a tough cookie for him!! h i m

wait

on another thought...

that does make sense

you and jungkook are more likely to be a couple than anyone else more alike to either of you, no offense :D

and the way now that you’re frozen and scoffing like ur voicing mater’s engine in cars

“w-what? FUCK no!!”

mhmmm

yeah that’s the spot

taehyung means this in full offense but you’d be absolutely bankrupt if ever you wanted to try your hand at poker when your tell is literally cussing in capital when you’re flustered

this is the equivalent of your mom leaving you by the line to the cashier at the grocery when she needs to get something and you’re next at the line and you have no money on you and you’re too hesitant to tell the person behind you to-

“why? are you thinking of asking him out?”

he hears you seethe and that’s only the second time he’s heard you actually do that so he may have straightened his posture a lil

you wouldn’t hold it against taehyung because jungkook is one fINE specimen and tae doesn’t stare from that description anyway

you just can’t help but feel a lil.....

ಠ_ಠ

because you know that jungkook is yours and when it comes to things like these, you can’t do anything about it

how could you??

fine... if taehyung tries to-

smack!

the fact that your friend has a gigantic palm for one doesn’t soothe the gears in your head

you’re positive that your brain actually shook inside your head for a split second

“i already have someone, dumbass.”

taehyung has to remind you again to which you immediately awe in remembrance, a sheepish smile on your face bc for a moment, you actually considered begging for tae to back the fuck off without making it seem you’re already with jungkook

he waves you off because you’re about to coo at him again, a small smile on his face because he wouldn’t forget how he’s so lucky

it’s nice to be in love!!

you should probably try it some time

but then again, taehyung’s starting to think that you’ve been in a longer relationship with jungkook than him in one, so he thinks that he should be the one taking notes from you

“can i, uhm, ask how did you know?”

you don’t mind swallowing your pride because you already know you can’t bullshit your way out of this one, a timid look on your lap

sheesh

tae’s pride seems to swell up because his suspicion’s right just by oNE singular try

“because i’m rich kid kim :) don’t you know that?”

see now this is only one of the few times that he’d gladly take his title

rich kid kim was coined by the courtesy of changbin, his girlfriend’s friend :/

it just seemed to STICK on everyone else after then

changbin was the first to narrate his actions like he’s the lead star of a poorly-produced netflix film

what’s wrong with rich kid kim? is his greeting every time he crosses paths with changbin

he was just pissy that oNE time!! it was ONE time

taehyung thinks of the whole jungkook situation and relates it to him as much as possible because ya know,,, he is the main star and koo’s just a second lead

ok changbin’s netflix narrations are really rubbing off on him

“think of jeon jungkook as an elitist that everyone wants to be close with, and yet he actually looks like one of the good guys — like me — and he looks like he wants to shoot himself in the foot when he gets offered caviar oNE more time, and then you’re like uh, the comic relief???”

he spews his interpretation all in one breath effortlessly and you’re just blinking slowly to try and digest it all

it’s oddly too specific

hol up now why does it sound like he’s been actually waiting for you to ask him that

HOLD ON YOU’RE THE COMIC RELIEF???

“a clowN?” is what you react first and tae can’t believe that that’s the only thing you picked up from his perfectly sound analogy

“uhhhh like a bartender? a waitress? someone that isn’t a socialite,” he shrugs as he tries to make amends, remembering that the last time he went to a rich kid kim party, no one was technically in pennywise shoes nor juggling bowling pins

“are you trying to insult me tae?”

:((

yIKES are u gonna cry

“what?? no!! no!!” he launches from his seat as if he was falling and that catches him a couple of glances from rich kid kim loyalists (there’s a lot of things he’s unaware of), about to punch the floor if only their lord and savior didn’t take it in stride, “i’m not trying to insult you, but it’s how you take it, y’know?”

his nonchalance puts you on the edge even more, launching from your seat and uh you don’t exactly have any concerned fanbase there to worry for you

“so i sHOULD?? tae you’re basically saying that-”

alright that’s it

he needs to actually get through you this time because more often that not, you are so fucking stubborn that it beats him

he glares at you, eyes looking comically large and pissy as he’s stopped in the middle of slurping from his cup noodles to talk some sense into you

it feels like an eternity until he finishes his noodles and you were almost tempted to just eat the remaining portion to fasten his pace

“in rich kid kim terms, or reality y/n terms?”

you’re almost too scared to answer but you already do before you can even process, raising two fingers

and for a moment, you think tae’s actually gonna go easy on you!

whew you definitely aren’t prepared if-

“do you come out together by the main door? or from the back?”

your eyes are as large as they could possibly be and if you stay in that same shocked and taken-aback state, you’d need to look for those creams with how much your eyebrows and your forehead are creased

u-uh well now that i think about it-...” okay maybe you and jungkook don’t come into uni by any of the several hundred main entrances at all, but that doesn’t mean-

“does he hold your hand? carry your backpack? doesn’t matter if you have a dumbbell in there or not, does he carry it?” tae lists item after item, racking through his mind as these were also all the things he does, and all the things he’s picked up from everyone

“does he bring your water? lend his hoodie when you’re not even sniffling? pick a fight when someone even looks at you the wrong way? read something relatively romantic in english lit, then text you about it? brag about you to his friends? does he-...”

...

....

okay

you are awfully too silent for even your nature

tae was blissfully obvious just two seconds ago when he was enumerating boyfriend traits (that he himself exhibited, excuse you) left and right

then he started to realize that you weren’t stuttering nor interjecting on the side

he’s :O when you’re standing up from your seat, straightening out your hoodie, one that isn’t jungkook’s, that you’ve been anxiously wrinkling for the past ten minutes

“excuse me, tae. i have uh.. i have a lot to think about.”

everything he’s said made a solid number on you because not even distracting yourself becomes successful

not even your mini fixation on gouache helped you because so far it really sucks

it’s become a routine of jungkook to come over to your apartment almost everyday that it practically feels he’s living with you

he knows where you keep your milk and how cold you want the AC to blast and how you organize your groceries

and yet jungkook can’t-

“koo do you love me?”

it’s a question that was sprung so suddenly because come to think of it, you’re knitting and jungkook’s head is buried in your thighs while he tries to take a nap

he doesn’t bother trying to figure out your thought process because it’s a question that’s so simple that it seemed trivial

jungkook’s a dream when he nods and hums to your thighs, making you tread your hands on his hair instead of your roll of yarn

“mhmmm. more than life itself.”

he loves loves you!!! he doesn’t even know why you’re asking

“okay,” you hum back, crouching down to press a kiss on his nape that he appreciates because he’s a little ticklish on that spot, “hold my hand tomorrow then.”

:-)

jungkook launches from his position on your thighs, sitting up immediately that it’s gotten him dizzy

“... w-what?”

oh boy here it goes

you don’t feel like dancing around this issue anymore because after all, you do have the right to stick your finger in this!!

he’s your boyfriend i mean like what’s not clicking

“it’s not that big of a deal, jungkook. it’s not like i asked you to propose to me or something.”

his eyes widen more at that, his cheeks puffing out and it makes you realize that taehyung was right and it dOES look like he’s hiding a goldfish in there sometimes

you try to bite back a laugh at that but jungkook is devoid from any entertainment at all, looking like you just asked him to pick between you and the universe

“you uh want me to propose??”

he has his hand awkwardly caressing his nape and his cheeks flush as he’s trying to process things

yeah he DOES love you and he’ll marry you eventually but you’re doing this now!!! as in now??

how’s your wedding gonna work? god, can the two of you decide on the menu for your reception? does this mean your aunts and his aunts would mee?? no no that could not possibly be-

“you don’t need to,” you sheepishly mumble and you’re not gonna deny that marrying jungkook did cross your mind every once in awhile

you aren’t against it but marriage is not the issue at hand!! it’s just about him hOLDING your hand tomorrow and not forever now

“so you don’t want me to?”

...... christ where is this going to

there’s palpable tension in the air and you just feel like giving up, sinking further into the couch and koo’s reading TOO much into it

what if you slouching on the couch means you’re breaking up with him and you wouldn’t marry him even if he was the last person alive

“if you aren’t ashamed of me, or if you don’t feel like dYING when i’m five feet away from you and your jock friends-“

“lovie i-“

your ringless hand raises and prompts him to shut up, palms a little sweaty and fingers tired from stress-knitting

“then hold my hand. tomorrow. please.”

:-)

okay fine then

last night wasn’t exactly the best experience because you felt a little too distant even if he was enveloping you into his arms

last night, kook didn’t even dare to try and press mischievous kisses from your jaw to your shoulder because you felt untouchable with how wringed you were

then he had breakfast by himself much earlier and had to practically sHAKE you awake to whisper that he’s gonna leave earlier because he has a plan, and then proceeds to tell you to act as if you didn’t know that he has a plan, then go back to sleep and forget altogether that this literal rude awakening even happened

if you ask him, he is wearing the most boyfriend fit ever in this entire universe

which is uh his regular outfit of a fit shirt and a cool-looking jacket with chunk boots thrown on top of it

BUT!!!!

hear him out ok

he’s wearing a bracelet

uh huh

a bracelet...... that has the iNITIAL of your name

yuh how romantic is that

man both hallmark and netflix must be bankrupt because of jeon jungkook!! he’s sure of it

he just knows

the big deal of it all is jungkook waiting for you by the stairs, bouncing on heels out of displaced nervous energy because he’s too jittery to just coolly lean against the wall

“kook?”

you’re tilting your head at the sight, a little lost but more on fond as he smiles squarely 

“y/n! it’s uh, it’s you! wow!!” 

he exclaims but not without tucking his hands into his pockets and non-discreetly looking around your surrounding before he deems it clear enough, which is what you still find useless for him to even do it!!

the whole point of this is to not care!!

he’s gingerly placing himself beside you and although it’s not exactly what you asked for, it makes you sigh a breath of relief because it’s been tOO long that you’ve been next to him in this public atmosphere

he’s not exactly far, but he isn’t exactly bumping shoulders with you either

there are some glances alright 

jungkook has a loose grip on you but you could fEEL how his hand is so sweaty

he’s just looking at the floor and he allows you to guide him because if not for you, he would’ve been bumping into both lockers and people non-stop

u actually have first period together but you typically sit rowS away but now he’s just sitting on the chair right above yours

he isn’t next to you but he’s literally above you, so maybe you’ll take it

you can’t exactly text taehyung how it’s going because he could see everything from where he’s seated at

this was supposed to be an enjoyable time :(

a nice, giggly, warm enjoyable time with jungkook

but being this unrestricted meant him being so rigid that quite frankly, you’ve grown sick and wary of it in less than an hour

you’re making your way to the library and jungkook’s sTILL following you when you were sure he wouldn’t have

and if you ask him, he doesn’t know either why he followed you

he jus did it without thinking even if it meant him taking quick steps behind you with his head down 

he doesn’t know why you’re here and he feels a little guilty that he should know it if this was already a part off your routine

but this time, jungkook can’t look at you because this time, you’re the one who’s unreachable

who kNOWS what your empty stare could possibly mean

“we don’t have to do this anymore, y’know.”

that’s the quickest way to conclude it, nodding to yourself surely

meanwhile, jungkook is a millisecond away from a goddamn mELTDOWN

“w-what do you mean?”

“this!” you genuinely chuckle and even wiggle your hands around to make a point

he swears to god rn that he is gonna BLUBBER

“a-are you breaking up with me right now?”

his voice is already cracking and it reminds him that oh, yeah, the two of you are in the library and he’s about to cRY

you’re gasping when you take his trembling hand and jungkook wants to snatch it back and beg you to hold it tighter at the same time

oh no :-)

“it’s okay. i don’t mind anymore. and what, we’re gonna graduate like a year from now! doesn’t matter anymore.”

but wait it SHOULD matter

he’s gonna cry oh god oh god he’s gonna-

“you don’t need to change for me.”

:((

so that’s what

jungkook cries and it’s from relief that no, you aren’t breaking up with him

“o-okay,” he nods as he wipes his own tears that are blurring his vision and there’s sO much that he actually worries if it would budge his contacts

he just wants a hug from you to console him like you always do

but instead, you look around, settle on tapping his chin, then standing up

“cheer up. i’m gonna go eat lunch with felix.”

and then yOU’RE the one leaving him

quick

does he really look like a red-nosed, bleary-eyes, puffy-lipped mess??

say sike rn lads

jungkook clearly doesn’t look the best and he doesn’t exactly know what he was doing when he came out of the library and marched over to hang out with his friends like he always did

but something’s just different

he looks like someone whose world turned upon him and has nothing left to himself

surprisingly, it’s not hobi who’s the only one thinking of that

his friends are all ????

“y’okay man??”

namjoon’s the first to break the silence and everyone sighs because they were all holding a breath just by looking at jungkook’s distraught state

“yeah! just, uh, just —“

he’s back to being preppy in an instant but he can’t establish eye contact, swinging his arms by his sides and looking around just to look natural and gOD IS THAT YOU??

you’re you

you’re there, walking with felix and your backpack on hIS shoulder

.,., the same backpack that he’s bought you one birthday ago, on tHIS dude’s shoulder strewn as if he didn’t panic in between which variant should he buy for you

you look blissfully unaware that he’s cried himself just by thinking about you and your words and lack of actions just awhile ago

“nothing.” 

jungkook grits out and suddenly, he isn’t sad anymore :D

just uh

just a lil frustrated :D agitated :D or maybe feeling a little inadequate and outraged :D

this other mini breakdown going on his head doesn’t go unnoticed because here he is, so close to injuring his fist with how tight he’s clenching it

the guys, however.,.,

seokjin whistles and goes as far to squint his eyes intentionally that he looked like a distraught chihuahua, immediately grabbing jungkook’s actions as he nods his head to your direction

“y/n, right?”

jungkook froze and everyone is just waiting on him, mouths a little parted because they’ve caught on jin’s little plan and somehow, he might’ve struck a chord sO hard that-

“keep your fucking dick in your pants, seokjin.”

WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH

everyone’s reacting to his seething like a flock of seagulls to a piece of bread

yeah they’ve seen the youngest of their group mad, but not tHIS type of mad that he looks like he would’ve hit his hyung with a skillet upright if he had one onhand

everyone’s visibly offended besides seokjin, the man mentioned just amusedly shrugging his shoulders with a dimpled smile that unintentionally provoked jungkook even more

“told you,” yoongi gives up his last batch of cookies to namjoon, a long-winded bet finally coming to an end because of what was only supposed to be a harmless question by jin

“if y/n was your girlfriend, you could’ve just said so!!” 

jin ruffles his hair and it doesn’t exactly take a genius to see how he cares for you!!

jungkook looks out for you in ways he couldn’t even notice doing

he always had two umbrellas in his backpack and when it was raining, he’d leave one on purpose by the front of this specific locker

hoseok actually borrowed an eraser without permission from kook once, but then he found a combination of tampons n napkins that he grimaced because what :// those aren’t even the good brands!! he has a sister and now has a handful of knowledge about monthly visits, so he takes note to talk to jungkook about it some time

there’s even an extra sweater in his backpack that always remains unotuched

one time, jimin complained that he was cold and turned to jungkook, full-well knowing that the fucker had oNE more sweater tucked in his bag, who just plains-out ignore him and even tch!s him under his breath

they somehow had a clue all along and now that jungkook realizes, he may be a little dENSE

OH RIGHT

WHY WOULD HE HAVE KEPT YOU HIDDEN

that’s entirely stoopid of him

what was the reason lmao

this time, jungkook’s more than eager to make it up to you

eVEN if you’ve insisted that nothing was wrong!!

it was just the last day before christmas break so it went by considerably fast-paced because even the professors were a little antsy to come home!!

that didn’t stop him, because clearly, jungkook holds your hand tight this time and he’s looking straight ahead

he looks proud

he feels natural and giggly the whole day that you couldn’t stop either because it’s a complete 360 from yesterday

wouldn’t absolutely stop holding your hand and following you

even kisses the top of your head like a kitten repeatedly

eVEN SAT IN A CLASS HE DIDN’T HAVE TO BE WITH YOU

something’s up with jungkook alright

the two of you are back again on the couch — you knitting, and him buried and napping on your thighs

it’s a bit of a shock when he grabs your hand all of a sudden, a half-sleepy and full-on dreamy look on his face when he’s looking up at you from being laid down on your lap

a red silicone band :D

you’re still speechless when he’s sliding it on your ring finger, admittedly getting the wrong finger the first time which is why he’s sheepish and holding back a giggle

“jungkook....?”

unsurprisingly, it looks good on you

he seems to think so himself when he’s giving you another one, holding his hand out and you’re doing the same without even an explanation present

“it’s a placeholder :)”

a placeholder?? hold on ur heart is a lil fragile

your eyes widen and your lips downturn on instinct, making him giggle as he smushes your cheeks to just let him explain

“all this marriage talk just had me thinking-”

“are you PROPOSING right now??”

both the mix of panic and excitement stains you clearly, mouth dropping open as you try to fumble for atleast something to wipe your face with

hee-hee 

“maybe i am, maybe i’m not :)”

jungkook’s such a romantic it’s SICKENING

his mind drifts off and you can’t blame him!!

his family’s well-off so maybe he could cash in his next ten birthdays for a loan or maybe even a house to help ease the two of you in

maybe the two of you could even build it from the ground up

the two of you could also move into this nice apartment after graduation!! he’s been eyeing it for quite awhile actually

“you wanna get married early?”

“maybe i do, maybe i don’t :D”

jungkook’s faux nonchalance makes you grin yourself, the both of you knowing what answer he’d yield anyway

“as long as it’s you,” you declare surely, bending down to press a kiss on his nose that tickles him and makes his heart full

“as long as it’s me?”

jungkook smiles cheekily at your statement pressing kisses on the top of your thighs that’s got you fumbling at him to just embrace you immediately

he’s a little bulky with all the muscles he’s gained and worked on, a little pressured when he’s sitting on your lap upright and won’t absolutely stop kissing you sweetly

“you should start on knitting your wedding garter now :D”

[justkending]

Moral of the Story. Chapter Four.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all this time to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky x Y/N

Word Count:

A/N: 

Chapter Four:

Bucky groaned as the alarm blared throughout the room. Rolling over to his side, he threw his head into the pillow. That didn’t stop the beeping like he had hoped, so with a groan he pushed up, smacking the red numbers that screamed at him. He rolled back onto his back and blinked up at the bare ceiling.

Today was the day…

_________________

Y/N couldn’t seem to sleep at all, so she woke up early at 6:30 jumping into the shower. Having the extra time, she took it to have a nice long soak in the hot water. The schedule of the day running through her mind.

The chance of them running into each other was practically at 100%. They had a time frame of 9-10 to get in and sign what they needed. Mr. Murdock said something along the lines that it would take about 30-45 minutes to get everything finalized and copied. 

So yeah… Within an hour frame of needed 30-45 minutes of signing shit and getting multiple copies made, meant Bucky and her would most likely be sitting next to the other as it was done. 

She let out a tired and irritated moan as she finally decided to turn off the water. She had it running for so long, her hands were prunes and the water was becoming lukewarm. The world was telling her to suck it up and move on with the day. 

____________

The car ride there was dreadful. Every stop light just elongated the inevitable meeting. Every turn brought him closer to the terrifying reunion. 

He was running early to begin with, but after hitting traffic from a wreck, he was now running just a few minutes behind. So weaving through the people who didn’t understand New York traffic was his specialty in showing up in time. 

____________

She stopped at the coffee shop by her house before really heading to the attorneys office. The car ride to the place was easy and smooth on her end. From coming from the outskirts of Brooklyn, the inner city traffic was avoided for the most part. So she was there early. She even had a second to sit in her car and drink the latte she had bought. Something about Brooklyn latte’s was 10x better than anything California had.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact they actually had cold weather to pair the hot drink with, whereas where she now lived, the lowest low in temperatures was 70 degrees. 

________________

Getting there with just 3 minutes to spare, Bucky rushed out of the car and walked with a hint of speed to the door that read Nelson and Murdock Law Firm. 

No sign of Y/N yet, but as he walked in, he heard a shout from the street that caused him to turn as soon as he walked in. He didn’t have a second to register what the shout was about as he took two steps in and ran straight into someone’s back. 

“Whoa!” he said, using his hands to brace himself on the mystery person's shoulders, and the other person making the same exclamation. “Oh God, I’m so sor-”

Before he could finish the apology, the women turned showing the face of his matured high-school-sweetheart. 

“Oh,” he let out in a breathy turn. He could tell just from past experience with her, she had a snarky comment on her tongue at the run in, but upon seeing him, the words died on her lips. “Hey.”

She looked great. Like, really great after all these years. Not that she wasn’t a beautiful gal to begin with, but you never know how someone’s going to age. However, she looked almost the same. 

Sure, she had aged some, but just like a nice bottle of the finest wine in all the vineyards of California. Maybe that was her secret given her new home. 

Her Y/H/C hair was styled in loose curls. It was voluminous with a healthy shine to it. She had on an off white, canvas dress that cinched at the waist with buttons going down it. And she had a layered gold necklace going down her chest where the buttons were undone. She looked both professional yet casual at the same time. 

Bucky realized he had been staring when she awkwardly looked around her trying to not pay attention to his analyzing eyes. 

“Hey,” she said, letting out a deep breath. 

She didn’t miss how good he looked either. Even in those facebook pictures that she had found the night before, the ones she found him just as attractive, they didn’t do the real man justice. His hair was just as long as the most recent picture his mother had posted, and he looked more muscular than she ever remembered. The scrubs didn't do his build justice. 

He was wearing a navy blue v-neck tight fitting t-shirt. A brown leather jacket that looked as though it was tailored specifically for him and him alone. And lastly, he had on a pair of jeans that of course, fit in him all the right places. 

There was a very awkward silence as they stood there not knowing what else to say. Neither now looking at the other, but instead looking at every little inanimate object item in the office. 

After what felt like eons of the most tense silence to exist, Bucky was about to speak up again, but was cut off from another person running in late.

“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry guys,” the voice sighed, out of breath from what they presumed was running to get there on time. “Foggy was supposed to pick me up and we were going to ride together, but he got food poisoning last night, so I had to take the train last minute.”

The man had dark brown hair, a nice suit, and a pair of sunglasses on even though it was overcast today and the sun was barely peeking through the heavy clouds. 

“Foggy?” Y/N asked with a tilt of her head. 

Bucky turned back looking at her with the same question on his mind, but watching the small action of confusion brought him back 10 years. God, it had been so long he had almost forgotten the little mannerisms she had that he found adorable. And damn her for still having that adorable action. 

“Oh, right. Franklin Nelson. My co-attorney,” he nodded. “We’ve been friends since we were in college. Friends call him Foggy.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded with a kind smile. 

“Anyway, I won’t bore you with my morning chaos. I’m sure you two are ready to get this over with and go on about your day,” he smiled, and pulled a walking stick out from around him as he closed the door. One that neither had realized he had been holding until now. “You two much be James and Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Matthew Murdock.

“It’s nice to meet you Matthew,” Y/N replied sweetly.

“Yes, thank you for helping us out,” Bucky nodded, placing his hands nervously in his pockets. 

“It’s my pleasure. I’m so sorry about everything that you guys are having to fix,” he said apologetically. But I’m sure you guys want to go about your day, so please, right this way,” he motioned to the door that was across from them. 

Bucky and Y/N both shared an impressed look on their faces as they watched him maneuver through the office gracefully. 

They followed close behind him and once they were seated in the chairs in front of the desk, Bucky began to fidget in his spot. Sure the office had been redone and really didn’t look much like it had all those years ago, but the layout was the same. And all it was doing to him was bringing back memories he hated trudging back to the surface. 

He subtly looked over at Y/N and saw her sitting in perfect posture watching Matthew as if if she were to look at him and only him, then she wouldn’t have to face Bucky. 

Why did he expect anything less? Of course she hated him just as much as she had all those years. She was probably dreading this meeting just as much as him. That small speck of hope that maybe they could be somewhat normal and civil upon meeting again after all this time, completely faded at that point. 

“Ok, this really shouldn’t take all that much time since Foggy and I went ahead and wrote up all the things that needed signed and double checked. So we should be able to breeze through all this,” Matthew nodded, bringing up a thick file that looked as though it had tabs on the side organizing them. 

Y/N looked over wondering just how he knew the difference between documents and noticed on each tab, there were bariel markings along them. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, out of all places to live, why New York? It’s got to be hard getting around such a crazy busy city given.. ” Bucky asked, but didn’t finish not sure how to word it. Y/N snapped her head in his direction and smacked his arm. “Ow!” Bucky jumped, sending her raised eyebrows. “What the hell?”

“I’m assuming you’re asking because of this,” Matthew laughed casually as he pointed to his glasses. “Don’t worry. You would be surprised just how often I get asked that.”

“Yeah, it was just a question,” Bucky pouted toward Y/N while rubbing his assaulted arm. The two falling back into their old behaviors rather fast. 

“I wasn’t always blind. I mean I have been for a good chunk of my life, but I’ve lived in New York my whole life as well,” Matthew went on to explain as he moved papers around. “If anything it would be harder for me to get around if I moved any place else. I know this place like the back of my hand.”

“That’s impressive,” Bucky nodded, getting comfortable in his seat. 

“Eh, it’s either learn or get bumped around the sidewalk of a place full of people who don’t give a second glance to anyone who’s in their way,” Matthew shrugged. “Oh, I need to go grab something before we start.”

He maneuvered through the room leaving the door open as he went across the office. Tension filled the air as they were left alone for a second time in the past 5 minutes. 

Y/N was sitting straight forward, her eyes wandering here and there around the meeting room, but careful not to go over to Bucky’s side of the room. He looked down seeing her hands were fiddling in her lap. She was tapping her thumbs together while his leg bounced up and down.

Bucky had opened his mouth to start to say something, but even he wasn’t sure what was about to come out. Lucky for him, Matthew came back in and went back to his seat. 

“Sorry about that. I thought I had it all, but needed to get some pens and one last paper I left on the printer last night.”

“You’re fine,” Y/N said professionally, but kindly. “I have one quick question, if you don’t mind.” Matthew nodded her on with a soft smile. “What exactly happened to Hammer after all this chaos was discovered?”

“Oh, yes. He, uh, he will not be an issue to anyone else to put it lightly. His license was revoked and terminated and he is currently on trial for money laundering and malpractice,” he answered. 

“Serves him right,” Bucky mumbled, and instead of getting a smack to the arm, Y/N nodded in agreement. 

“Ok, if you two are ready, let’s begin,” Matthew smiled before grabbing the first set of papers. 

The two straightened in their seats and the process began.

After a few minutes of just signing, Matthew started to make notes of updated information for the two. 

“Ok, Mrs. Barnes, sorry, Y/N,” he corrected quickly. “What is your line of profession at the moment?”

“I work at Horizon Labs in L.A. It’s a company a friend and I from college started up. I’m a Sustainable-Conscious Financial Advisor for a lot of smaller businesses as well as some bigger ones we recently just became partners with,” she answered. 

“Horizon Labs, huh?” Matthew said with an impressed look. Bucky turned to look at her as she lightly blushed. “I think I listened to a podcast about them. You guys help companies use recycled goods and find energy efficient technology, right?”

“We just redirect them to people who can help them get those resources. It’s practically just connecting the companies that would work great together in helping the environment,” she nodded humbly. 

“That’s amazing,” Matthew smiled. “We need more people and companies like that.”

“Thank you.”

He made note of that on a computer. “I’m assuming with all that, you have to be a little too busy for a second job, right? I don’t need to make note of another?”

“Uh, actually,” she added, Bucky’s already focused eyes on her quirked at her response. “I just invested in a Woman’s shelter with another friend of mine. I haven’t really got to do much with it, but it is a second job as of lately.”

“Wait? Nat?” Bucky caught on.

“Uh, yeah,” she nodded almost shyly. Probably the second time out of this whole meeting that she actually made eye contact with him. “My company works with them in getting some of the resources and items they need for the shelter. I talked with Nat and I invested into it some to help with some with their financial advisements.” 

“Wow, th-that’s,” Bucky faltered. “That sounds like you,” he said with a breathy laugh thinking about how maybe she really hadn’t changed all these years. That being one of the ‘reasons’ they had broken it off, how people change and all. But that’s a story for another time.

Y/N didn’t show a response to his words, but she did take them in. 

“So you run a woman’s home and you run a well-off business that promotes eco-friendly resources for the environment?”

“Well, I don’t run the woman’s home. That’s all my friends doing. I just help where help is asked if I can,” she answered once again humbly. No sense of egotistical pride hinted in her explanations or answers. 

“That’s extremely impressive Y/N,” Matthew gushed some, and Bucky noticed the smallest form of attraction come off the lawyer. He straightened at that. “I’ll make a note of it. And you Mr. Barnes. What is your occupation?”

Bucky relaxed his shoulders and focused back at the issue at hand. Trying to not get jealous of something that wasn’t even his to be jealous of. 

“I’m one of the head occupational therapist at Stark Theracorp,” he answered. Now it was Y/N’s turn to look at him intrigued. “I run the geriatric occupational therapy floor and manage our equipment and employees. ”

“Two very impressive people in the work field from what I’m getting,” Matthew chuckled some as he made the notes. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have to ask about income from the both of you for the record. If you want to write it on a paper and hand it to me you can or if you are comfortable saying it outloud that works too. Either way, I’ll have Foggy add it in later to the finalized papers.”

“Wait, so we aren’t finalizing it today?” Y/N asked, somewhat shocked. 

“Did Foggy not tell you?” Matthew asked. “I thought he reached out to you before this meeting.”

“I don’t believe so,” Y/N shook her head. 

“Well, the reason this one is so quick is because I just need a few signatures and updated notes on you two. After that, I’ll make the altercations for the official papers and I’ll send those to you both on their own to get the final signature. You can either bring them to me here, fax them, or have them sent via mail after you signed off on them.”

“Oh, I see,” Y/N nodded. The look of defeat in her posture and facial expressions.

It hurt Bucky a little seeing her reaction to it. Did she really want to get away from him that bad? Was he that much of a nuisance in her life? I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be divorced 9 years ago, but he didn’t want it then and it still hurt seeing just how much she wanted it now. 

“That’s not an issue is it? I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience,” Matthew apologized. 

“No, no. It’s ok,” she said in reassurance to him. But she let out an almost bitter laugh before she spoke again. “We’ve been married for the past 9 years apparently. What’s a few more days?”

“I guess that’s true,” Matthew laughed with her. 

Bucky rolled his eyes discreetly. He really hated how she was reacting with all this. It wasn’t surprising, but doesn’t mean it hurts any less seeing how badly she wanted out of the situation.  

“Mr. Barnes, are you ok with that?” 

“I’ll survive a few more days, I guess,” he returned just as bitterly as Y/N. The two looked at each other one more time, but this time, anger and annoyance was clear on both of their faces.

If you would like to be tagged in this series, please send an ask! It keeps things more organized for me. If you comment, I most likely will not add because I loose them:)

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[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Laugh

Prompt: Hi!! I really love your writing and always look forward to when you update, I can’t tell if your prompts are open (please ignore this if they aren’t!) but if they are I have a prompt for your (un)wanted series; each of the fae making Virgil laugh for the first time, at first he’s insecure/scared to laugh because of experiences in the village but he slowly learns to be ok/comfortable laughing thanks to the fae; again, if your prompts aren’t open I apologize and hope you have a nice day!! - anon

so uh

hey

did you guys know that this past Friday was the one year anniversary of the first chapter of (un)wanted

'cause wow

uhhhhhh I'm not good at speeches so have fluff

Read on Ao3 (Un)Wanted Masterlist

Warnings: none!

Pairings: DLAMPR, it’s found family nonsense

Word Count:  5419

Whether or not they agree on who made Virgil laugh first is irrelevant, the point is that they’ll find something to argue about sooner or later, and when they do, Virgil’s learned enough to curl up with Oliver and just watch. Preferably from the safety of the kraken’s head, a little bit away from the shore, where he’s close enough to hear the things they say but not close enough to be in the way.

It was Oliver’s idea to do that, actually. Virgil…hasn’t been the best at learning how to deal with anger. Other people’s anger, in particular, for completely understandable reasons.

 It had been Logan who spotted it, coming over to his side when the twins were having an argument over what side of the lake they were each taking jurisdiction for that decade and Roman’s voice had risen, Remus’s voice had multiplied, and Logan had seen Virgil curl in on himself, clutching his tunic tightly around him and trying desperately to vanish into the wall.

 Once the twins realized what was happening—namely, Virgil breathing heavily in Logan’s arms as he glared at the two of them for being so oblivious—they’d stopped right away, calming down and crouching to be smaller so that Virgil could see them, see them, not their anger, and apologize. Remus had tugged Virgil into his lap as part of his apology and Roman had ruffled his hair and promised that he’d never raise his voice around him again.

 Logan had been quiet as Virgil clung to him, only later working up the courage to ask what was wrong with him.

 “Nothing is wrong with you, little one, you’re experiencing symptoms of your trauma.” A cool hand had passed over his forehead, smoothing his hair back from his face. “Your experiences with human anger have not been good, it stands to reason that you react to it.”

 “But—it’s stupid,” Virgil had spat, “I know—I should know you guys won’t—won’t—“

 “Shh, shh, hush, now…that’s it. Come back here for a moment. There you go.” Logan’s chin had come to rest on top of Virgil’s head. “Knowing something theoretically and properly internalizing it are two different processes, little one. It’s going to take time.”

 “But I’ve given it time.”

 “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. There’s no textbook on healing from trauma.”

 “There should be.”

 Logan had chuckled. “I don’t think even with our combined lifetimes we would be able to read it.”

 But that didn’t mean that they couldn’t start trying to help Virgil work through it. It had been the twins who started taking the bigger steps; sometimes Roman or Remus would be spending time with Virgil and the other would bustle in, muttering about something or other gone wrong. A patch of kelp that kept getting infected, a herd of deer that insisted on trampling half of the garden, something. And as they talked, the other would coax Virgil into their lap, keeping him grounded. Their voices might raise, just a little, but they were very careful not to yell and the warm weight of arms around Virgil and a head on his shoulder kept him safe.

 When someone couldn’t hold him, Oliver does. The kraken made no secret of how much he liked to hold Virgil—Remus muttered something about how he wasn’t jealous of a kraken, shut up, Roman—and had no reservations about extending an arm for Virgil to step into to wrap him up and carry him to safety. The others made sure not to yell, of course, but that meant that it manifested in other ways.

 Logan’s hands turned blue.

 Roman’s magic started to tingle from his fingers.

 Remus’s tentacles came out.

 Janus started hissing.

 Patton’s chest glowed.

 And sometimes, when he’s safely in someone else’s arms and high away on top of Oliver’s head, that was fine.

 Virgil shuffles a little, careful to keep his weight squarely on top of Oliver, not shifting too much either side. Of course, that’s easy when Oliver is really fucking huge. And the kraken burbles every now and then, shifting slowly from side to side in the water, careful not to jostle him too much. He pats the spot next to him in thanks and the water thrums with Oliver’s purr.

 Onshore, about twenty feet away, he makes eye contact with Logan. Logan rolls his eyes dramatically, the sheer exasperation on his face making Virgil snort. When he looks back, Logan’s face has softened considerably into such fondness that he can feel the tips of his ears flush.

 “I don’t know why we’re still fucking arguing about this,” Remus says, drawing their attention, “I won! I got him to laugh first! So I win!”

 “You have no proof of that,” Roman says immediately, “besides, you haven’t even told us what it is, how are we supposed to trust that?”

 “Just because we’re not all Lolo with his meticulous journals and note-taking methods doesn’t mean I’m not right, you absolute—“

 “Language!”

 “Oh, I’ll show you fucking language—“

 “How is it,” Virgil mumbles at Oliver, “that they’ve been arguing for so long and Remus hasn’t said what he thinks it is yet?”

 The kraken just shrugs. Carefully, not moving Virgil, but he does shrug.

 “Well, since you’re so adamant that you’re correct,” Janus drawls, effectively cutting off Remus and Patton’s tangent about swearing—which is something they never can quite put down—“why don’t you tell us what it is?”

 “Roro and Pat were there,” Remus huffs, putting his hands on his hips, I don’t see what there is to argue about.”

 “We were—oh goodness,” Patton sighs, “are you talking about the first time Virgil met Oliver?”

 Remus beams. “Sure am!”

 “Was that when I got absolutely covered in that voracious green slime that was determined to consume me?” Roman scoffs and wipes his sleeves at the memory of it. “Absolutely dreadful.”

 Remus throws his head back and cackles.

 “It was a wonder I was able to get clean,” Roman mutters, glaring at his brother, absolutely splitting his sides.

 “Ah,” Remus sighs after a moment, wiping his eyes, “good times, good times.”

 He points victoriously at Patton.

 “See? You were there! You remember!”

 Patton sighs. “I do…but that doesn’t count.”

 “What?” Remus whirls around and gestures at Oliver, who stick up two tentacle tips and waves. “Are you discounting this magnificent, glorious beastie from our debate?”

 “Technically that would be Oliver getting Virgil to laugh, not you.”

 “Or,” Roman says, puffing his chest out, “it would be me. Since I was the one to get so egregiously wounded—“

 “You were covered in slime,” Logan points out, “calm down.”

 “—then it was me that sparked that reaction.”

 Virgil rolls his eyes and pats Oliver’s head again. “You’re not just a beastie, you know that, right?”

 Oliver rumbles under him.

 “Okay, good.”

 “Besides, that was barely a laugh.” Patton pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It was…okay, yes, it’s one of my favorite memories since Virgil has come to stay with us—“

 Remus turns and shoots Virgil a wink over his shoulder.

 “—but a laugh?” Patton looks at Logan. “What’s the definition of a laugh, Lo?”

 “Technically, it’s to express certain emotions, particularly mirth or delight, through a series of spontaneous and usually unarticulated sounds.” Logan crosses his arms. “Which means that as long as it wasn’t planned and it wasn’t articulated, anything counts as a laugh.”

 “Thank you!”

 “Alright, alright,” Patton huffs, “always with the technicalities.”

 “You were the one who asked me for the definition.”

 “So what do you think it is,” Janus asks, examining his gloves with feigned disinterest, “since you’re so insistent that you know the correct usage of the word ‘laugh?’”

 Virgil can see Patton’s grin from Oliver’s head.

 “Why, the bread day, of course!”

 As if on cue, several groans go up around the clearing.

 “Patton, none of us were there for that—“

 “You can’t just keep insisting on that one, it’s not like—“

 “You can stop rubbing it in, Pat—“

 “Of course, you need—“

 “It was wonderful,” Patton says, raising his voice just a little to speak over the others, “he looked so happy.”

 Virgil does actually remember that one too. And yes, okay, maybe he’s glad that he’s far away from the others so they can’t see the small smile spreading over his face at the memory. The warm kitchen, the smell of the bread, the soft warmth of Patton’s presence next to him…

 Yeah, that’s a good memory.

 Oliver thrums under him and he pats the kraken’s head absentmindedly. Patton sighs over on the shore as the others mutter amongst themselves. Then he claps his hands.

 “Well, I think that’s me winning, so—“

 “Hold on,” Logan says, holding up his hand, “as we said, you are the only one who was there. I would argue that a laugh where all of us were present is much more significant.”

 He glances up at Virgil and his gaze softens.

 “Considering the incredible amount of work that Virgil has done since arriving to stay with us, I’d say that marks…quite an achievement.”

 Of course, as soon as one of them starts to get all sappy, the rest quickly join in. Virgil is incredibly glad that he can use shifting on top of Oliver’s head to duck away from the blush he knows is spreading all over his face. Mostly so he doesn’t have to look at the fondness and pride on their faces. Partly because he knows Roman would immediately become insufferable.

 “So,” Roman says after a while, which means it’s safe to look up again, “what exactly did you have in mind?”

 Logan crosses his arms, using one hand to adjust his glasses on his face. “Do we all remember the first time Virgil began to experiment with his webs?”

 Virgil’s breath catches in his throat. Oh, he knows what Logan’s talking about.

 The seasons had been turning, fall creeping in through the tendrils of the forest. The leaves had begun to change, dislodging themselves from their branches and twisting down through the air to land in massive piles on the ground. Carpets of red, orange, purple, and brown had covered the paths they would walk, fruits growing heavy and ripe. Roman and Patton had spent hours out in the woods near the lake with him, plucking berries off the trees and eating them until their mouths and fingers were stained with the juice.

 The trees around the clearing had lost their leaves a little quicker than the others, leaving their limbs bare, the naked wood gleaming in the sun. The light had warmed the leaves during the day, leaving them dry and crunchy as they walked over them. Something Virgil hadn’t minded at all during the day—he had gotten into more than a few playful encounters with Remus, crashing through the leaves just to hear them crunch—but when night had rolled around…

 The thin limbs blowing in the breeze hadn’t been pleasant reminders that the seasons were changing. No, they were fingers tapping threateningly on the windows, or looming there to scratch him if he moved too much.

 Logan had noticed him hovering just outside the clearing the next day, softly placing a hand on his shoulder after alerting him to his presence and asking, gently, what the matter was.

 “The…the trees,” Virgil had muttered, balling his fists up in shame, “I, um…they…”

 Logan had taken one look at the way the shadows fell around the clearing and nodded firmly. “I understand, little one.”

 He’d tucked Virgil up in his arms when Virgil asked, rubbing his back gently.

 “Would you like to talk about it, or be distracted from it?”

 “Distraction, please.”

 Logan had smiled. “Have you had a chance to practice with your webs yet?”

 “No.”

 “Would you like to try now?”

 “Uh, sure. What do we do?”

 Logan had started to walk them toward the center of the clearing, explaining how spiders use their webs as a part of their consciousness.

 “Wait, they what?”

 Logan had nodded. “There is a theory of mind known as ‘extended cognition.’ It states that whilst humans—and most sentient beings—use their minds as a great deal of their processing of thought and feeling, we rely on a lot of external structures outside of our minds to help us think. Sometimes outside of our own bodies as well.”

 “Whoa…” Virgil had looked down at his hands. “What do you mean?”

 ���Think of the way you organize your room.” Logan had gestured to Virgil’s door. “It’s laid out in a way that helps you think, helps you process information. It informs your decision-making sometimes, does it not?”

 At Virgil’s nod, Logan had asked softly for his hand, beginning to make small circles in the air as Virgil started to let his webs slip.

 “The same is true of a spider’s web. Picture the web as something of a hub.”

 “A hub?”

 “Yes. Do you remember talking about how spiders use their webs?”

 “Yeah, as like a sensory extension. They can feel the vibrations of different strands in order to track their food or sense what’s coming for them.”

 Logan had smiled. “Very good memory, Virgil, that’s excellent. Yes, they can tell the difference between different types of vibrations too, from different types of prey to debris to predators.”

 A small web starts to form between the gaps in Virgil’s fingers.

 “But what else they do is fascinating.” He tugs very gently on one of the strands. “The spider isn’t idle when it sits in the middle of its web. Rather, it’s constantly moving, checking each individual strand. Pulling this one a little tighter, tugging that one.”

 Virgil watches as the light gleams off of the strands. He moves his fingers a little to watch them. “What for?”

 “Pulling a strand tighter makes it more sensitive to vibrations.” He reaches up to Virgil’s head. “Like cupping your hand around your ear to hear things more clearly.”

 “Whoa, that’s cool.”

 “Mm. An external way of filtering what information the spider receives in order to better process it.”

 Virgil had looked up at Logan. Logan had smiled softly and stepped back, letting Virgil spin the web between his own hands.

 “…you think this will help me too?”

 “I think that my research has shown that taking a spider’s web away from them severely impairs their ability to function,” had come the quiet reply, “and that you haven’t had much of a chance to spin freely.”

 Virgil had looked down at his hands. The web had looked so small, too small. He had looked back up at Logan, chewing on his lip.

 “Can I…?”

 Logan had smiled and folded his hands behind his back.

 Virgil had closed his eyes and reached.

 There was something strange, he had realized, about being in your body without being in your body. Something like a wall, sometimes thick, sometimes only static, between you and whatever you sense. Hiding somewhere in a corner of your mind where you were in the world, but not really with the world. As if you were existing but just…slightly to the left.

 His body didn’t need to do anything spectacular, it just needed to exist. He was a shape. Just a shape. Nothing more, nothing less.

 And that was okay.

 Without even realizing it, his four legs had lifted him up, suspending him a few inches off the ground as his hands continued to spin. He had felt them taking the web produced and moving it from place to place, but he wasn’t thinking about it.

 He had just…done it.

 He had been the slight crack in his left finger as he wrapped his hands around and around the threads of the web.

 He had been the very tip of his upper left leg as it took the web and tossed it into place.

 He had been the last strand that decided to stick to somewhere and make that its home.

 When he had opened his eyes, an unknown amount of time later, his mouth had dropped open in awe.

 The clearing, previously empty save for the bare-limbed trees and scattered leaves, was draped and covered in spiderwebs.

 Logan, who must’ve been standing there quietly, had looked up and around him, eyes wide with wonder. He had turned slowly, spotting Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus, all staring around with wide eyes at the mass of webs that clung with gossamer elegance to the fabric of the world.

 Virgil had hung there, suspended amidst the web, spinning slowly as he felt the world breathe.

 Dusk had fallen, bathing the clearing in a soft light that reached gentle fingers out to paint thin blue shadows along the ground. The cool air had been weightless, blowing effortlessly through each strand and setting it to tingle. Everywhere a strand vibrated, a single drop of dew had formed, a single crystal in the half-dark.

 A glittering hub.

 And for the first time, Virgil had looked at something he’d made not with fear, not with anger, but with wonder.

 And he’d laughed.

 Giddy, child-like, bemused entirely by his creation and the way his body molded to the soft chimes of the web, spinning, spinning, unspun in the comfort of the mist.

 Virgil’s legs twitch behind him at the memory of the first web, and as he looks down, he realizes he’s been idly toying with a web on top of Oliver. The kraken, of course, is more than delighted to realize he’s received a present, burbling happily as Logan finishes his quiet recounting of that evening. A lull hangs over the shore for a moment before Logan adjusts his tie.

 “I believe I win.”

 “Hold on,” Roman says, “let’s not be too hasty, here.”

 “I do remember that,” Patton murmurs, glancing over at Virgil, “that web was so pretty.”

 “Pretty enough for Logan to win?”

 “Maybe not that pretty.” He sends a wink at Virgil.

 Rude.

 “Well,” Logan huffs, turning to Roman, “if you’re so certain, Roman, what on earth do you think it is?”

 Virgil can hear the fucking smirk on his face from here.

 “Have you all forgotten so quickly?” He spreads his arms. “Has the image of our sleepy little spider left your minds so soon after it happened?”

 Oh.

 Oh, no.

 Virgil knows exactly what Roman’s talking about.

 Okay, in his defense—who is he kidding, he knows damn well he set himself up for this. But it had been such a long day! He’d been working with Logan, trying to get the garden set up properly and that was hard, okay? Trying to manage the three different notebooks, the planters, the pots, the tools, it was a lot, and he still wasn’t used to using his new legs so he kept bumping into things and it was a lot. Then he had to help Patton with clearing out another section of the kitchen to make room for all the new baking pans and they were so loud and hard to manage and get the things in all the right places took so long and ugh. And then to top it all off Janus had promised to go with him on a walk and—listen, okay, the day was long.

 And Roman is really, really warm.

 He’d been walking back from the portal, drained from the effort of keeping his magic under control on the other side of the garden, panting slightly as he rounded the corner. He’d looked up just in time to see Roman shutting his red door behind him.

 “Ah,” he’d said, coming over with a smile, “there you are, little honeybee, I’ve been looking for you.”

 He’d taken one look at Virgil’s demeanor, however, and quickly softened his voice, coming a little closer, hands at the ready to ensure he was alright.

 “What’s happened, little honeybee, are you alright? Do you need anything?”

 “I’m fine, Roman, I just—oh—“

 “Shh, easy, hey, come here…” Roman had leaned Virgil gently against the side of the house. “Too much?”

 Virgil had nodded wearily. “Think I just…pushed it a little too hard today.”

 “It happens.” He’d run his hand gently through Virgil’s hair. “Magic-wise or just existence-wise?”

 “Bit of both?”

 “My poor little honeybee, you must be exhausted.” Virgil’s eyes had slipped closed for a moment as Roman had carded his hand through his hair again. “Do you want to be left alone, or can I take care of you?”

 Virgil had leaned into Roman’s touch and mumbled something. Roman had chuckled.

 “Those aren’t words, little honeybee.”

 “Mm.” Virgil had managed to crack one eye open. “C’n I come with you?”

 “Of course, Virgil, let’s get you somewhere warmer.”

 Roman had guided him carefully through the red door, sitting him down and producing cloth and bottle out of seemingly nowhere. He had shushed any protests gently, saying that it didn’t matter that Virgil hadn’t been crying, he can still let Roman clean his face off. He’d cupped Virgil’s head and asked him quietly to look at him.

 “I don’t want you to fall asleep here, little honeybee,” he’d murmured, “so try and stay awake until we can get you somewhere comfortable, alright?”

 “I’m not that tired,” he’d protested, “I’ll be fine.”

 Roman had just smiled.

 And Virgil really didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him be so tired that he’d tried really hard to keep his eyes open. Even when Roman’s hand under his chin had been so warm, so confident in holding his head right where it needed to be. Even when the soothing repetitive motions of the cloth had coaxed his gaze not to Roman’s face but to the way the fabric moved in and out of his vision. Even when Roman had to pause and rewet the cloth and he’d let his eyes drift shut for a moment, just a moment.

 Only to realize later that Roman had stopped completely, and was watching him with a quietly smug smile.

 “Stay awake for me, little honeybee,” he’d whispered, “I’m almost done.”

 “‘M trying.”

 “I know, I know,” Roman had soothed, finishing cleaning his face, “and you’re doing a wonderful job for me.”

 Then, of course, everything had gone wrong.

 Because just that one little word of praise had been enough for the very tips of Virgil’s ears to go read, and of course, Roman had spotted it.

 “Little honeybee,” he’d murmured, tilting Virgil’s chin up just a little higher, “what’s got you so flustered?”

 “Nothing.”

 “Hmm, nothing? Are you sure? Your ears look awful red.”

 “It’s fine.”

 “Oh, I’m sure,” Roman had said lowly, still cleaning off Virgil’s face with gentle swipes of the cloth, “I’m sure it’s fine, little honeybee, I trust you completely, I’m simply worried. If I’m doing something wrong, then I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable.”

 He says, as he’d looked directly into Virgil’s eyes.

 “Why,” Virgil had whined out as Roman had chuckled, watching him cover his face, “are you so mean?”

 “Sorry, little honeybee,” Roman had murmured, not sounding very sorry at all as he leaned forward to press a kiss to Virgil’s forehead, “I couldn’t resist, you’re too cute.”

 “I am not!”

 “Oh, little honeybee—“

 “No,” Virgil had said—said, definitely, not pouted, “don’t respond to that.”

 “If you insist.” Roman had given him another moment before reminding him that he still needs to finish. “I’m really almost done, I promise. It won’t take much longer.”

 Of course, having someone hold your face when you were already flustered is not easy, and it was Roman, so…

 “What happened,” he had asked as though he didn’t know damn well what had happened, “why aren’t you so sleepy anymore, little honeybee?”

 Virgil had been quite impressed with the glare he’d managed to give Roman through the remaining blush on his cheeks. Roman had simply laughed.

 “Alright, I deserve that.” He’d stroked a thumb carefully over Virgil’s clean cheek and leaned in to kiss him lightly on the other. “You did wonderfully, little honeybee, thank you. I’m all done now.”

 Roman had turned away, putting the cloth and the bottle back into whatever aether he’d pulled them out of and offering his hand to Virgil.

 “Come on, do you want to change into something else?”

 The sleepy haze had returned by the time he’d managed to get into the softer clothes Roman had offered, all but stumbling into Roman’s arms as they retreated to the large mess of cushions and pillows. Roman had laid down first, Virgil on top of him, one hand tangled in his hair, the other scratching lightly at the center of his four legs.

 “Shh, shh,” he’d coaxed when Virgil had started to whine, “none of that now, little honeybee, just relax.”

 A soft knock on the door.

 “Yes?”

 “Roman, have you seen…” Logan had trailed off the instant he spotted them. “Ah. Nevermind.”

 “Have I seen our little spider?” Roman had lightly knuckled Virgil’s jaw. “Yes, I believe I have. Did you need something?”

 “Only to join you, if you’d allow me.” He’d glanced behind up. “Or rather, allow us.”

 Virgil hadn’t been able to fully recognize the others coming in to join them around the mass of pillows, but he had registered the soft weight of Patton asking if he could dust him off a little and the soft gurgle of Remus as he settled in above them on the wall.

 “My, my,” a voice had drawled, Virgil too tired to look over at Janus, “what a sleepy little spider.”

 “Mm.” Virgil had felt Roman’s chest warm as the hand on his back continued to scratch gently. “Precious little spider.”

 “Are you two just going to fuss at him until he falls asleep?”

 “Why shouldn’t we?”

 “Well, if you fluster him too badly he might not be able to sleep.”

 “Why, Logan, I’m hurt. Surely you know we would never.”

 Virgil still isn’t sure what it was, whether it was the drawl of Janus’s voice, Logan’s disbelieving scoff, or the very real memory of Roman enjoying driving him out of his mind a few minutes ago, but whatever it was, it bubbled up in the pit of his stomach and he started to giggle.

 The room had gone quiet, just listening to Virgil lying on Roman’s chest, absolutely stunned.

 “You’re so giggly, little spider,” Roman had teased, “so giggly, so adorable, I’ve never heard you giggle before. It’s so cute!”

 “Giggle spider, is that a thing, Logan?”

 “Well, it certainly is now.”

 Roman had rubbed his back soothingly, still teasing, trying to lull Virgil back to sleep. Janus had reached over and tucked a blanket over the two of them, leaning down to kiss Virgil’s hair and murmur something about getting it out, little spider, it would be alright.

 Virgil isn’t sure if that was the first time he’d fallen asleep with a smile on his face, but it wasn’t the last.

 “…yes, alright,” Logan concedes, “that was adorable.”

 Roman throws his hands up in triumph. “See? Everyone’s favorite is our giggle spider.”

 Yeah, Virgil’s really glad he’s not standing next to Roman right now, and that he’s far enough away that they can’t see his blush if he ducks his head. He still gets all giggly when he remembers it, no use in reminding everyone of that now.

 “Janus? Are you going to try and compete, or…” Roman strikes a dramatic pose. “Shall we commence with my victory already?”

 Janus is quiet for a minute. Then he raises his hand and lets a little bit of the golden glow of the Claim flicker up around his hand.

 “Virgil,” he says softly—oh, he’s using it so he doesn’t have to raise his voice, that’s clever— “would you come over here, please?”

 “Uh, sure.” He pats Oliver’s head and the kraken burbles, wrapping an arm tightly around Virgil’s waist to set him on the shore near Remus. Remus reaches out to steady him, make sure he’s alright. “I’m good, thanks. I’m here now.”

 “Yes, thank you, little mouse.” Janus tilts his head. “Do you have a favorite?”

 “…favorite?”

 “A time you laughed,” comes the soft voice, “do you have one? It’s alright if you don’t.”

 Virgil glances around the circle, expecting to see scoffs or playful challenges or maybe—just maybe—someone will whisper that he knows theirs is the correct choice. But he doesn’t.

 All he sees are curious expressions, even a few encouraging smiles.

 “Wait, really?”

 Janus nods. “Anything? It doesn’t have to be much.”

 Virgil thinks. Does he? He remembers meeting Oliver for the first time, remembers making bread with Patton, remembers spinning in the clearing, remembers falling asleep on Roman’s chest.

 Something else…something else…

 “I remember,” he starts nervously, “it was one of the first times I went for a walk at night by myself.”

 He looks around, maybe he wasn’t supposed to do that, but no judgment meets his gaze. He swallows.

 “It was dark outside but the moon was really bright. I could see perfectly, even with the trees, all the way to the lake.”

 He glances behind him, at Oliver, playing in the reeds.

 “Oliver was asleep. He—I think it was after you guys spent the day cleaning out the underbelly of the caverns down there, he was really tired. So the lake was, like, super flat.”

 He remembers little ripples, just the barest touch of the breeze to the surface of the water.

 “And I, um, I realized that I’d never actually seen anything be that…” He struggles for a moment for the right word. “…still before.”

 He shifts a little.

 “Everything was always moving. Even when it was quieter, the water was never completely flat. There were waves, there were—there was always something.”

 But not that night. No, that night it felt like the lake was breathing, not like the wind was blowing across it. If he sat still enough, it was almost as if he could watch it inhale and exhale, at peace in the moonlight.

 “And I…I dunno, I really liked the way the moon looked.” He looks down at his hands. “It, uh, reminded me of what the Claim looks like.”

 He’d sat there for a while, just staring at his hands, wondering how the gold of the Claim would look bathed in silvery light. He’d rubbed them together, trying to see if he could feel it, only for something else to emerge entirely.

 He hears the gasps of Roman and Patton as a purple orb begins to form in his hands.

 “I, uh…made this for the first time that night,” he murmurs, watching it spin and dance in his hands, suspended there, floating like some great bubble, “and it looked…like me.”

 He remembers staring into it and not seeing anything but energy. About looking at it the way he used to watch the moon, the stars, anything he could never understand but wanted to, so desperately.

 Only to realize that he already understood it.

 Gone were the gauntlets, gone were the strings, gone were the threats of torture and hurt and pain.

 All that was left was this.

 And feeling that relief, seeing this orb as a manifestation of the fact that it was free…

 In that release, he’d laughed.

 “It was…the first time I think I realized I was me.”

 Virgil looks up at them. The orb fades back into nothingness, leaving his hands empty. After a pause, Janus reaches forward and gently draws him in.

 “That,” he says softly, “that is my favorite.”

 “You fucking sap.”

 “He has gone soft.”

 “Oh, like you haven’t?”

 And just like that, the petty bickering is back, but filled with fondness and barely concealed amusement and it’s so perfect, it’s so right, that Virgil can’t help himself.

 Virgil can’t help it, he laughs.

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[its-me-im-coraline]

Temporary Bliss // Damiano David // Playlist series

words // 1441

warnings // lots of angst fuck, mentions of sex

pairing // Damiano David x GN!Reader

author's note // here's my taglist, add your name loves. this took a while till i finally made it but now that i did i feel kind of proud haha

requested // yes, here

summary // Damiano and reader have a friends with benefits relationship but Damiano has caught feelings. This is what happens when one of them denies the truth.

2.15 AM, Saturday

The clock had struck quarter past two, yet one more night the two were entangled in sheets, hands all over each other and bodies united. Damiano was kissing up and down their body with so much adoration. Soft kisses around the neck and that one very specific spot behind their ear, soft caresses of the waist and chaste kisses all over those lips; those wonderful lips Damiano was dreaming of asleep and awake alike.

They had come over again in one of those infamous “late night emergencies”, all too eager to be assisted by Y/N. Truth be told the man had feelings. It had taken him a while to understand but he had caught feelings for the wonderful person; for his nightly endeavour. It was not part of the plan, not a part of the agreement they had. Well, technically there was no agreement, they never specified a thing.

In that moment he found himself on his knees, hands roaming Y/N's body as his lips traveled all over their legs, dangerously close to where they wanted him most, and man did he want it too. His kisses were sloppy hands rough while touching their body. "You taste like heaven," he commented while finally giving some pleasure.

"Mhm, I know. You tell me that a lot, " they responded, a taunting smirk on their face.

The man was utterly fucked at these words. He knew he should not be doing this any more, he knew that very well, but being here with them was an addiction; an addiction worse than nicotine and drugs. No escape, no way out -at least not an easy one. Thus Damiano continued his moves, fucking them with all he had in him, taking his frustrations out just like they did.

“That was fucking amazing,” Y/N would say every time, this time being no exception. They meant what they said, and it’s what drove Damiano back again and again and again… All in hopes that one day the feelings he had would be reciprocated.

He was not even sure when these feelings began. Somewhere between the four to six month mark of this whole situationship. That’s when he noticed, that is. He was sitting there, watching them get dressed -it was the very rare occasion that they had stayed over- just so calm, so soft. Damiano knew then that he would not mind this being a common occurance -waking up to them in the morning.

6.26 AM, Saturday

The clock was now indicating twenty six minutes past six. Y/N decided they had overstayed their welcome, thinking the best idea was to get away from the dark room.

Clothes were scattered all around, their underwear lost somewhere in the mess, making their smooth escape all the harder. They did not want to open up the light, in fear of waking the sleeping man, and the half open blinds provided only a fragment of sun - not that there was a lot to begin with. At the time they were leaving the sun was not even fully up yet, although it was going to be soon.

Only cowards leave before the sun even rises, their friend had joked once, but maybe she was right.

Y/N was only leaving out of fear. The fear of catching feelings. Oh boo hoo you big baby. Such a great fear you got there, they’d say to themselves, but deep inside they did know how big of a fear it was. They never meant to hurt Damiano but they could not allow themselves to get hurt instead.

With a last glance towards a sleeping Damiano, Y/N walked out the room.

11.30 AM, Saturday

A yawn was the first thing to be heard in the spacey bedroom that morning. The man had woken up by his phone going off with a call.

“What,” said the man (knowing very well who was calling him at this hour), another yawn escaping his lips.

“Good morning to you too,” joked Thomas, “get up, dolcezza. Ethan and I are coming to get you. He says he wants to do something nice for us today. If you ask me, he just got bored of his latest hook up and is now lone- hey hey don’t hit me!”

“I don’t know if I can,” he mumbled, turning around on the bed, only now realizing that it has been empty, and for some time. “Nevermind. Give me half an hour.”

“Are you ok, Damiano?” Thomas was genuinely concerned by his friend’s tone. He did not sound very eager before, but now… Now he was disappointed.

“Yes-yeah, it’s nothing,” he replied, dragging his hand down his face, “just call when you’re almost here.”

“Alright!”

He was truly hurt by the absence of his… well, they were not really something to him, but oh how he wished they were. There was no point to this dismay, and he knew, but this empty and sorrowful feeling could simply not be helped.

With that thought he got up to get ready, knowing very well his friends would not be happy if they arrived and he was not done.

12.58 AM, Monday

The same all distinctive ringtone came from Damiano’s phone, the screen lighting up. The name displayed on the screen let the man know exactly what it was about. He knew what they called for again and he was so done with it. He was going to end it once and for all.

“Hello.”

“Damiano,” they cried. Something was wrong, great, thought Damiano.

“What’s up baby,” he questioned in a moment of weakness. Damn addiction.

“I’m just not feeling alright… Can I come over?” The singer was not sure anymore… Not sure if these tears were real or fake, but he simply could not just leave them alone when they were crying. If something was really bothering him and he was not there to help when asked for it, Damiano would be beating himself up for days on end.

“Sure. Give me a bit.”

One last time, he thought and hung up.

3.23 AM, Friday

Last time this happened it was for comfort, it was a way of comforting their violent thoughts. Damiano was done with those excuses and reasons, he was done with this ordeal. Too far, he thought, it has gotten too far.

“Stop it,” he said as he answered the phone.

“What?”

“I said stop it, Y/N!” He had grown frustrated with them and their late night needs.

“I did not do anything-”

“Agh,” he groaned exasperated, “you can’t fucking see it, can you?”

This had to end, and now. He was not willing to put up with it any longer. He could not continue on this temporary bliss, he wanted something more, something stable. They either hopped on this train together or they would part ways.

“Damiano wha-”

“I can’t do this any more, Y/N,” he breathed out. “I don’t know what you are feeling here (cause you don’t ever tell me!) but I-I am in love with you. I can’t just hook up and then act that those feelings don’t exist. So, I will ask once: what are you feeling about me?” He was thorough, sharp, leaving no room for persuasion. He truly just wanted to be done with the uncertainty and the pain.

“I… I can’t do this right now, Damiano,” they said, abruptly hanging up the phone, leaving a hurt Damiano to process what just happened.

6.49 PM, Thursday

“And they just hung up?” Thomas was shocked at the revelation.

“Yeah… They didn’t say anything, just… It kind of stings,” Damiano confessed. That phone call had hurt him much more than he ever thought it would. After the call he could not sleep all night, sleep would just mock him every time he tried. He found it hard to move out of bed or do anything else. He just sat there, staring at the ceiling and attempting to figure out what had just gone down.

Yet another conversation was interrupted by Damiano’s ringtone. It had started disturbing him now - this ringtone - considering the phone calls he had gotten recently.

Unknown number. A blocked number, huh. He was unsure of whether he should answer it, but after a second he did. But as he heard the voice on the other end of the line he started regretting it.

“Damiano,” said the wavering voice. They were crying, that much he could tell.

“Y/N?” Agh, don’s show worry, Damiano, keep it together. But he knew very well that was impossible.

“I- I am sorry. Can we talk?”

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playlist fics tag list: @cheese-toastie-11

[ikeromantic]

First Day pt. 2

This is an Ikemen Sengoku coffee shop AU. Approx 1400 words. Nobunaga, the owner of Azuchi Cafe, hires a girl to work in his coffee shop alongside his other oddball employees.

Pastry Chef and little rain cloud: Ieyasu Tokugawa

Head Chef and irredeemable flirt: Masamune Date

Dining Room Manager and rule-master: Hideyoshi Toyotomi

Barista and most popular kid in your class: Ranmaru Mori

Barista and coffee disaster: Mitsunari Ishida

Accountant and walking bad-boy vibe: Mitsuhide Akechi

Grouchy customer with sexy-rich-class attitude: Kenshin Uesugi

Walking nerd-encyclopedia and corporate flunkie: Sasuke Sarutobi

I have never written a coffee shop AU and I have no idea what I'm doing. Yet I keep doing it. Seriously. I can't get this out of my brain right now.

First Day pt. 1

Nobunaga found it hard to concentrate with the girl there. His eyes kept seeking her out. His thoughts drifting to her when he was supposed to be focused on re-orders, contracts, budgeting . . . He glanced up from his laptop to see Ranmaru standing entirely too close to her. The barista was showing her how to operate the espresso machine, his chin resting lightly on her shoulder.

He might have said something, but the door swung open just then and in walked their most troublesome customer. Useugi.

Kenshin took in the cafe with a displeased glare. His good looks were offset by the miasma of violence and suppressed emotion that hung in the air everywhere he went. Despite his angelic features, heterochromatic eyes, and gorgeous platinum locks, he intimidated nearly everyone in his path. Everyone but Nobunaga and his cafe crew, which was why he kept returning to this insignificant coffee shop when he could have gone anywhere.

His personal assistant hurried in after him and quickly moved to one of the tables, pulling out a chair for his boss. “Sir?”

Uesugi sat with a slight grimace. “That took you .5 seconds longer than last time. Perhaps I should replace you, Sarutobi.”

“Of course sir.” Sasuke Sarutobi’s expression of mild amusement didn’t shift in the slightest. He gave his boss a slight bow and headed for the counter. “One half-caf medium with exactly one pump raspberry and one pump chocolate, oat milk, extra foam, caramel drizzle and curls. And a shot of espresso on the side.”

Mitsunari doesn’t even blink. “Is that all, sir?”

Kenshin doesn’t turn, but a slight smirk turns his lips up at the corners. “Order for the entire office, Sarutobi. My treat.”

It takes several minutes to deliver the complex coffee orders. Everyone’s favorite everything, to exacting specifications. A light sweat breaks out of Mitsunari’s forehead, but he keeps smiling.

Ranmaru isn’t so sanguine. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Two and three-quarters pumps of peppermint? Half white chocolate drizzle and what?”

The girl laughs. “I didn’t know you could put so much in your coffee.” She begins to prep the first order, moving a little slowly as she tries to remember where each product is and how to work the machines.

Nobunaga tenses, ready for Kenshin’s inevitable outburst. Any delay would send him into a violent rant with threats of lawsuits and putting you out of business and blah blah blah.

Uesugi turns around with clear intent but when his eyes fall on the girl, they widen. “You . . . hired a woman? In a coffee shop?”

The girl gives him an over-the-shoulder smile. “Sorry about the wait for your drink, sir. I hope I got it right.” She puts the finishing touches on top of the foam and walks the cup over to Kenshin’s table.

His eyes get wider the closer she comes. “You -” He seems to be at a complete loss for words.

Sarutobi looks concerned. His gaze floats between the girl and his boss for a moment, unsure if he should intervene.

“Get out of my sight,” Kenshin mutters, but the demand is half-hearted. “Women are such a distraction. Completely unnecessary in business.” He throws an irritated glance at Nobunaga. “Did my competition tell you to bring this - this girl here today?”

Sasuke slips around to the girl’s side and pulls her out of the danger zone. “Sorry about the boss. He’s a little unstable. Stress. Childhood trauma. The usual.” He blinks awkwardly as if both eyes were trying to wink at the same time.

“Of course not,” Nobunaga grins. Something about Kenshin’s intensity always made him want to needle the man. “But then, if they had, why would I tell you?” His carnelian eyes narrowed. “Maybe I’m your competition.”

“I could put your little coffee shop out of business,” Kenshin growled.

“Try it and see what happens.” Nobunaga was standing now, his voice low and menacing.

Ieyasu poked his head out of the kitchen and frowned. “Is Nobunaga fighting with customers again?”

“Yep.” Ranmaru grinned.

Masamune peered out, grinning widely. “Somebody get the lass a mop. This is going to get ugly.”

The girl pulled away from Sasuke and pushed between the two angry businessmen. “Excuse me, but could you both sit down? I’m very sorry if I caused you any discomfort, sir.” She looked at Kenshin, met his cold stare head on. “You might think a woman doesn’t belong in business, but flats don’t pay for themselves.”

“Great. Will someone grab the first aid kit,” Ieyasu muttered.

Masamune chuckled. “The lass has got balls of steel.”

Mitsunari was poking around for a first aid kit for Ieyasu, but he looked up at Masamune’s comment. “Does she? I didn’t see her carrying any kind of ball.”

Ranmaru giggled. “Should I explain it to you?”

“Don’t you dare.” Ieyasu cut the pink haired barista off.

Kenshin sat heavily, the tension suddenly emptying from him. “Your boss needs to teach you how to speak politely to customers.” Then he turned away from her and began to drink his coffee.

Sarutobi sagged for a moment in relief. “You must be a half-elf paladin,” he told the girl as she stepped past him.

“I don’t know what that is.” She shrugged and gave him a lopsided grin. “I’m actually putting myself through school to be a fashion designer.”

“Ah, creative, beautiful, and brave.” Sasuke blushed, realizing he’d said that aloud.

“Hey, don’t flirt with her, you corporate flunky. She’s our new hire.” Ranmaru grabbed her arm and pulled her back behind the counter.

“That’s right lad. Take your to-go order and go.” Masamune frowned.

Ieyasu elbowed him. “Not that I care, but if she’d been assigned to help me with the pastries, she wouldn’t be out here where nerdy customers could attempt awkward pick-up lines.”

“I apologize,” Sasuke said stiffly.

The girl smiled. “Don’t worry about it! You’ll have to come back sometime and tell me what a half-elf paladin is.”

Her inviting expression only made the glowers of her co-workers more obvious.

Sarutobi made a dignified exit, leaving with the drink orders for his office.

Hideyoshi took the opportunity to take the girl aside. “I appreciate what you did there, but you shouldn’t be throwing yourself into danger. Are you ok? Do you need a break? How about you sit down and we’ll get you a tea.”

“I’m really alright,” she told him. “I mean, it was a little scary but he wouldn’t have actually hit me.” Her eyes widened. “Right?”

“You are clearly new to this city if you haven’t heard the Kenshin horror stories.” Hideyoshi sighed. “Just, from now on let one of us handle it. It’s barely your first day so stick to the easy stuff.” He led her to the breakroom and sat her down on a tatty old sofa.

The break room was a sacred space for the cafe employees. A spot to grab a drink or a bite to eat out of the customer’s prying eyes. Nobunaga kept it comfortable, with an old couch and a couple of overstuffed chairs. A set of shelves held antique tea sets and some paperback books. There was a tv on the opposite wall and some potted plants in the windowsill on the far wall.

Ieyasu brought her tea and a strawberry pastry. He sat down, wearing an expression of pure annoyance. “So what. Are you suicidal?”

“What? No!” The girl looked at the tea and then back up at the annoyed blonde. “I just don’t like it when people fight. Someone might get hurt. And it would be especially bad if I caused it.”

“So just an idiot then.” Ieyasu sighed. “I don’t know what I expected. Nobunaga doesn’t hire normal people.”

“You realize that includes you, right?” She giggled.

Ieyasu looked away. “Whatever.”

The girl quietly sipped her tea. That lasted until she took a bite of the sweet, crumbly strawberry pastry. “Oh . . . this is . . . this is really good!”

“You don’t have to sound surprised,” Ieyasu huffed. Despite his tone, he wore a slight smile. He turned his head a fraction to look at her.

“It’s just, strawberries are my absolute favorite and this is - you blended the flavors perfectly. Not too sweet, and the fruit is the first and last thing on my tongue.” She finished eating it with a happy sigh. “I feel like I could eat a whole pan of these.”

Ieyasu busied himself with picking up the tray. “Then you’d get a tummy ache and I’d have to waste my time making you ginger tea.”

She laughed. “You know, I think under all that grouchiness you must be a really nice guy. I can tell by how you bake. You couldn’t make such sweet things if you were really that sour.”

For a heartbeat, Ieyasu was struck speechless. His mouth opened and closed as crimson crept across his cheeks. “You just proved you're an idiot,” he finally managed, sounding more breathless than annoyed. He hurried out of the room.