#walked around soldiers park under the moon listening

[mer-se]

Cute 🖤

[capsironunderoos]

The Art Teacher and The Winter Soldier - Part One: Morgan Stark’s Secret Plan

Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: Some stories about Bucky Barnes and an art teacher...

Word Count: 2,061

Warnings: None! Although there are spoilers for Falcon and The Winter Soldier if you haven’t finished that!

Author’s Note: Hey hey! I’m finally writing and posting again! I recently graduated from college with a degree in art education, and I just thought it would be cute to see Bucky Barnes date an art teacher, so here we are! This isn’t going to be a normal series, just kind of little snapshots of Bucky’s life with an art teacher. Also, this series follows the events of Endgame and The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, except Tony lived, other than that it’s pretty much the same. I hope you enjoy! 

Here’s a link to my masterlist: capsironunderoos masterlist

“Captain America, The Winter Soldier, Scarlet Witch, and Iron Man walk into an elementary school… sounds like the start of a bad joke.” 

Bucky heard Sam mumble beside him and felt a smirk make its way onto his lips. 

“I thought the minivan was enough for a bad joke,” Bucky added, and Sam had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter, a startling cough erupting from his chest. 

Tony had asked a few of the remaining Avengers to go with him to the opening night of Morgan’s elementary school art show since Pepper had been scheduled for a meeting. 

Morgan’s work had been voted on by the other students in her grade and selected as the best in kindergarten, which didn’t surprise Tony. The Stark’s were always the best at everything they attempted. 

Tony had wanted to invite everyone he knew, but he was under strict instructions from his daughter that only a few could come. 

The girl in question sat contently between her Uncle Sam and her Uncle Bucky, small right hand gripping onto Bucky’s left, as her left hand held a small bouquet of flowers. 

Her smile grew when she felt the minivan take the familiar right turn into her school’s parking lot, and she strained to make herself taller to see the brick building slowly getting bigger as Tony pulled the car into a spot. 

Tony turned the car off as the Avengers piled out and onto the concrete, Bucky turning back to offer his hand to Morgan. She quickly grabbed onto it and jumped out, giggling as she almost dropped the flowers. 

“Here,” he gestured to the flowers, opening his hand. “Let me carry those Moe.” She nodded and handed the flowers to him with no hesitation, leaving his side to run to Tony, who turned just in time to catch her and lift her above his head before propping her onto his hip. Her giggles echoed across the parking lot, and Bucky noticed a few people shooting smiles their way. 

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam called, already climbing up the stairs into the school, and Bucky smiled in response, jogging slightly to catch up with the group. 

“You guys are gonna love it here!” Morgan called from the front of the group, still holding onto her dad as they walked into the building. 

Wanda glanced over at Bucky and Sam, stifling a laugh. 

“Yeah, you two will fit right in.” Bucky smiled and rolled his eyes, and Sam lightly shoved her with his elbow, causing her to let out a small giggle. 

“Alright kiddo, lead the way,” Tony prompted as he placed her back onto the ground. Normally, this would cue a few moments of whining and begging to be picked back up, but she was focused on other things tonight. 

Yes, Morgan Stark had a plan. 

She walked proudly down the decorated hallways, making sure to point out the artworks her friends had made as she marched the small group of Avengers to her artwork. 

Bucky was quiet as they walked, stopping every now and then to look at a few pieces done by older kids. 

He was easily reminded of Steve, and their time growing up in Brooklyn. 

He thought about the journals he’d buy for Steve on his birthday, or a new art material he’d see in a shop while out for a walk that he couldn’t help but buy. Steve would have loved this, would have been right at home talking art with the very animated five year old leading the group. 

Bucky smiled to himself as he began to move with the group again, not missing the various drawings of superheroes plastering the walls. He knew he wouldn’t find himself here, immortalized on paper by a child who saw him as a hero, and his smile drops, but only for a second as he sees Morgan stop before throwing her hands up and screaming. 

Tony jumps to find out what’s wrong, but before he can squat down to her level she is running full speed towards a woman in a skirt with polka-dots all over it, and when she turns to see who is screaming Bucky can see that her shirt reads “Your greatest work of art is you!” He smiles at the sentiment and watches as Morgan launches herself into the arms of the woman, who is now crouching in order to better receive the hug. 

The force of a very enthusiastic five year old knocks the woman onto the floor and she laughs with Morgan as they part. 

“Hello to you too Morgan!” She says through more laughter and Morgan waves, now seemingly shy as she steps back beside her father. 

Tony moves into action now, extending his hand to help the woman off of the floor. She graciously accepts, and Bucky notes the shy smile that washes over her features. 

“You must be the art teacher we hear so much about,” Tony says as she lightly brushes off the back of her dress. 

“Yes, that would be me! And don’t worry, I know who all of you are,” she adds, her smile widening as her eyes meet each Avenger’s. Bucky feels himself starting to blush when her gaze lingers on his for just a bit longer than his counterparts. 

“Even if I lived under a rock it’d be hard not to know who you were. Morgan talks about you all the time, and she tells quite the story.” Tony laughs and lightly ruffles her hair, to which Morgan responds to by swatting at his hand. 

“You’re telling me. I ask her to tell me bedtime stories.” This cues a round of laughter from the group before Tony turns to each member. 

“Well, just to be formal about it, I’m Tony, and this is Sam, Wanda, and James,” Tony says, and the woman shakes all of their hands, making sure to tell each one how wonderful it is to meet them. 

When she slips her hand into Bucky’s, he wonders if she feels the small jolt of electricity that he does, but he ignores it as she smiles at him. 

“Please, call me Bucky,” he tells her, and that same shy smile rests against her lips as she nods. He’s sad to let her out of his grasp, but even he knows that it would probably be weird to sit and hold her hand. 

When she turns back to Morgan after telling the group her name, Bucky catches Sam staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and Wanda too. The duo are standing in similar stances, arms crossed over their chests with their eyebrows raised at his actions. When Morgan has pulled her teacher out of ear-shot, Sam turns to Wanda and takes her hand before dramatically mimicking Bucky. 

“Please, call me Bucky,” he chirps in a lovesick voice, and Wanda gasps as she places her hand over her heart. “Oh, Bucky!” She adds, and Bucky can feel himself blushing as he pushes past both of them to catch up with Tony and Morgan. 

He tries not to smile as he hears their laughter trailing behind him. 

When they catch back up with Morgan, she is proudly standing beside her artwork as Tony is bent down to take a picture of her beside it. 

Bucky smiles, shifting the bouquet of flowers he still holds from one hand to the other as he watches the scene. 

His heart stops though, when he sees the drawing.

 It’s… Him. 

Morgan drew him. 

He remembers the picture the drawing is supposed to resemble, remembers standing very still as Morgan tried to figure out how to use her new kids camera. She had yelled “Don’t move!” each time he tried to shift his weight so that his knees weren’t locked for too long. 

“She was prompted to draw someone she looks up to,” he hears quietly beside him, and the voice of the art teacher pulls him from his thoughts. Bucky turns to her in disbelief, and he sees that she is smiling up at him. 

“I think she picked a pretty good subject for that prompt,” she adds, and Bucky can feel his breathing becoming shallow as he holds back tears. 

He slowly walks over to the drawing to get a better look, and he sinks to his knees, a tear escaping and rolling down his cheek. 

“Uncle Bucky! Why are you crying?” Morgan asks beside him, and all he can do is wrap her in his arms, dropping the flowers on the floor as he squeezes her to him. She giggles but wraps her arms around him too, before wiggling in his grasp to reach for the flowers on the floor. 

“Here, give these to my teacher, they’re her favorite!” She whispers in his ear and he nods. This kid could have asked for a trip to the moon and Bucky would have built the rocket himself. 

He quickly wipes the tear off of his cheek, turning to take a picture with Morgan beside the artwork at Tony’s request before standing and listening to Morgan’s teacher as she begins to speak. 

“I know you probably already know this, but Morgan is very advanced for her age. Most of the other students in her class completed this project in a day, but Morgan worked on this for a few class periods. She even drew from observation, using a picture she brought in. I don’t normally teach that until fourth grade.” 

A moment of silence passed as the group of Avengers stood in awe of the little girl before them. 

“Here, let me take your picture together before you go,” she offers, and Tony gladly hands his phone over to her. The group bends down around the artwork, making sure to keep it, and the artist, in the center. 

“Thank you all for coming,” she adds, as she hands the phone back to Tony, who in turn thanks her before leading the group back out of the building. 

Bucky stands still, watching for a moment as Morgan turns around to wink at Bucky, gesturing to the flowers in his hand. 

Her plan was in motion. 

“Bucky? Is everything okay?” He hears behind him and he turns to see the art teacher, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, a small look of concern sewn into her eyebrows as they arch together. 

“Yes. Sorry, um, I think these are for you. Your favorites, so I’ve heard.” Bucky states as he hands the bouquet over to her. Her face lights up at the gift, and Bucky smiles as their fingers ghost over each other as the bouquet is exchanged. 

“Oh, thank you. And tell Morgan I said thank you as well.” 

Bucky nods and starts to walk away, but finds himself stopping and turning back to the art teacher, who is already looking at him. 

“Hey,” they start at the same time and Bucky laughs as he nervously slips his hands into his pockets. 

“Would you wanna, grab some coffee some time, or something?” He rushes out, and the smile that erupts on her face makes Bucky’s heart speed up. 

“Yes!” She squeaks out, and her excitement catches both of them off guard. “I mean, yes,” she adds, composing herself, which makes Bucky laugh again. 

“Here,” she starts, pulling a pen hanging off her lanyard into her hands and balancing the flowers under her arm. 

She gestures for Bucky’s hand and he holds it out to her. She glances up to him and he blushes again, quickly pulling off the glove. She smiles and grabs his hand, clicking the pen as she carefully holds his palm open to write her number down. 

She pats it gently when she’s done. 

“Just… text me, okay?” She whispers, smiling up at him before releasing his hand to turn to a parent who’s just walked up, flowers still held in her right hand.

---

The ride back to the compound is relatively quiet, until Morgan catches her Uncle Bucky looking at a string of numbers written on his hand. 

She taps his shoulder and he looks at her as she gestures for him to lean down so she can whisper in his ear, “My plan worked! You’re welcome,” before leaning back against her seat, arms crossed and a look of satisfaction playing on her lips.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Rough Night

Bucky Barnes x (f)werewolf reader

Summary: Your life is already so weird, thankfully Bucky loves you through it all.

Warning: fluff, reader being a sass master w/ no filter

side note: couldn’t think of any cool avenger powers and then brain went werewolf so here we are

Masterlist

If you had a dollar for every time you’d ended up in the woods with ripped clothes and no shoes, well, let’s just say you could probably afford a real nice two bedroom apartment in some real pleasantly fancy building with a great view and all. Too bad green doesn’t just rain down from the sky every time the full moon comes round to knock you back into another world of blurry confusion.

You won’t lie to yourself, being what you are is strange and not very common in the slightest, obviously. It’s even weirder that you weren’t bitten one night and turned just like that, oh no, all passed down through the bloodline of other strange relatives. So you’re gifted with the curse, forced to inevitably change into a furry beast every single full moon, so what you’re still a mostly pleasant individual.

Well luckily for you, being born with the gift does happen to have its perks which do come in handy. For instance, you’re incredibly strong, quick on your feet, and have heightened senses, plus the ability to shift on command. It’s not all bad, well......most of the time.

Honestly you truly thought life couldn’t get much stranger for you and your whole hidden secretive situation, until low and behold some random red head found your little hideaway in a remote mountain side village far off in the Himalayas.

Everything was completely fine and under control and then BAM, she showed up with some important documents and something called an Avengers initiative and well shit, guess some time spent with the real world couldn’t hurt. I mean come on, some more friends seemed like a nice idea and uh, somehow they knew who you were so too late to run and hide.

Also at the time, considering you lived like a recluse on the edge of the village and of course for good reason, but damn if the red head didn’t just hand you an open invitation for some real adventure. Who were you to say no?

Fortunately for you, all seemed to go in your favor and fantastically enough, they had a nice big strong cell for you on nights when the wolf was inevitably bound to come out. A fridge full of plentiful snacks, a training room to lay off some steam, and a big safe and secure room all your own. It was perfect. Only problem was, there happened to be a very attractive and very wary of you super soldier who undoubtedly caught your attention.

How could you not, he smelled divine, muscles for days, thick thighs that could make a girl swoon, and he just seemed like the best goddamn hugger alive. Okay listen, maybe you were touch starved and deprived of human affection but dammit if your little monster heart didn’t skip a beat every time he was near you.

And yes, the few months it took to get him to crack was just down right torturous. But with some coaxing from Steve and encouragement from Sam, the winter soldier at long last did talk to you. Turned out he thought you were scared of him all along, how hilariously ironic you thought when he told you that.

But as time progressed and you both opened up more and more, a blossoming relationship sprouted forth, eventually evolving and manifesting into a big beautiful flower called love. Cheesy yes, but you couldn’t have dreamed of anything better.

And seriously, he wasn’t freaked out about your whole hidden hush hush secretive gift that usually either goes in your favor or ends up causing you major legal trouble. The man himself, Bucky Barnes, thought you were a marvel to behold, so odd and fantastic that he couldn’t stay away even if he tried.

And for that you could love him forever, especially now after a full moon while you’re out in the middle of nowhere. Hoping that the team will send your hundred year old boyfriend out to find you in the brisk dark morning after a grand unrememberable adventure. Which would be very nice of course, considering you have not a damn clue what you’ve done.....or where you are.

Cracking your back, you stretch your hands up to the dawning sky as a tired yawn escapes you. It’s been a long night and you look like a wild woman with your hear a fluffy nest and your clothes ripped in various unrevealing places thankfully.

Your surroundings are simply trees and small scraggly bushes, green grass underneath your bare feet and a small stream flowing in the near distance. With a second to listen, you can hear a highway a couple miles away to the east, guess that’s a start.

Rubbing your eyes you set out in that direction for about twenty minutes before a blue and gold Mercedes comes into view from the side of a country back road, it stops when you guess the driver spotted you from the tree line. Keeping a wary eye on the fancy sports car, you keep walking towards it until a figure gets out and leans against the passengers side door all cool and casual, then on further inspection you realize the driver is Bucky.

Yes! My knight in shining armor is here!

Trudging through the grassy field in the dewy morning light, he watches your every move, eyes crinkling in amusement as you come to stand a couple feet in front of him. Undoubtedly looking a bit wild, and very tired as you fold your arms underneath each other, giving your dark haired lover a shy almost fangy smile.

“I know I look like a hot mess.” You mutter with a shrug, biting your lip as you dart your eyes to the fields behind him, slightly embarrassed of the current disheveled state you’re in.

Bucky smirks before pushing himself off the car and engulfing you into a big Bucky bear hug to your pleasant surprise, “Y/N I’m just glad you’re okay and nothing bad happened to you.” He mumbles into your shoulder as you press yourself closer to him, letting yourself have this wonderful moment to relax and feel at ease.

Slowly pulling back to look up at him, you smile, “Aww Buck you were worried about me?”

He returns the grin, leaning down to press his head flush against yours, “We all were, me more then anyone else of course...and maybe for the general civilians nearby.”

You laugh nervously, “Oh right, yeah. Well hey, I didn’t destroy anyone's car this time. I think I’ve made progress.”

He pauses for a brief moment indicating he’s not sure if he should tell you something and this does make you nervous before Bucky finally lets out a little laugh, “You ate a whole cow Y/N.”

Snorting in surprise you quickly pull your head from Bucky’s, “What? Did I? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Yeah, uh I wish.” He admits with a casual reassuring squeeze to your arm, “We tracked you with Sam’s suit tech, yunno Red Wing, and uh....you seemed to be having fun.”

Mentally and just about physically cringing at yourself, you purse your lips together in slight embarrassment, “Shit. Was it gross?” You ask, making a face that causes him to chuckle.

“A little.” Adds Bucky with another casual shrug to make you feel less terrible.

“Is the farmer going to see everything, I mean shit they’re gonna be so pissed.” You worry, biting your lip anxiously as you break eye contact from him. “Why am I like this.”

“Uh, that’s not going to be a problem.” Inquires Bucky causing you to find his blue eyes once again.

Eying him up suspiciously you raise a brow, “And why’s that.....Bucky what did I do?”

Taking a breath he gives you a small apprehensive smile, “Y/N...you uh, kind of ate......everything.”

“I what?” I did not! No way, right?

Giving you a quick kiss on the cheek he smiles affectionately, “I’m going to be honest with you here it looked like a kid with a piece of cake who has no impulse control, and loves cake....like a lot.....Rodney almost puked.”

Rolling your eyes you fake glare at him, “Oh god who all watched my little horror show?”

“Mostly everyone.”

“Jesus.”

“It’s like a car crash Y/N, we don’t want to watch but we can’t look away. Sorry doll.” He confesses apprehensively, though honest and sincere knowing you do feel bad for what you do when out of it.

“No.” You say honestly, pausing for a moment, “It’s fine. Seriously Buck, I’m just relieved you guys keep taps on me while I’m out, god knows I can’t help what I do and where I go. It’s nice to have people making sure I don’t injure any innocent bystander.”

“Yeah I guess so huh...alright Y/N/N,” Chirps Bucky with a beaming grin as he attempts to shift the mood to a less dull one, “let’s get out of here, I mean unless you want to sniff around the place for awhile...it is a nice forest over there and all but I guess we can stay and I’ll let you...”

“Alright Barnes, can-it or maybe I’ll bite you.” You tease with a playful squeeze of his bicep before breaking out of his strong grasp.

“Depends on the context maybe I’d enjoy it.” Adds Bucky sarcastically, side eying you with a half smile as you move to open the car door.

Shaking your head in playful disapproval you lightly shove him aside, “Believe me you wouldn’t.”

——

The ride back to the Avengers base or headquarters or facility, who the hell knows at this point, was actually quite smooth and peaceful. Then again you fell asleep as soon as Bucky made it onto the highway, and continued to catch a much needed nap for the next hour ride home.

No one ever said you were easy alright, but let’s be real, Bucky would let you put him through anything and he’d be happy about it.

After parking and walking down the sidewalk past some early morning trainees catching a run, the two of you made it into the Avengers official HQ where all your rooms and other luxury’s are located. But of course not before walking past the facilities giant living space and huge kitchen.

Just keep looking forward, keep walking, walk faster you idiot!

“Y/N!” Shouts Sam in that stupidly peppy obnoxious early morning voice of his, no doubt gaining the attentions of Steve and Natasha who are seated at the kitchens bar talking about some mission report.

Pausing in the large doorway that’s not giving you or Bucky a whole lot of hiding space, you take a deep breath before turning to acknowledge him, “You’d think people would be sleeping considering it’s only six in the morning.”

Chuckling, Sam raises his protein shake, “Weird,” He says while giving you a knowing smirk, “we missed you during training this morning.”

Nat and Steve conceal their amusement as you simply roll your eyes, “Yeah well it was a long night.” You mutter unenthusiastically, earning the tiniest laugh from Bucky which causes you to throw him a glare. Knocking that smile right off of his handsome stubbly face.

“Well we got all these shakes here if you two love birds want one. Hate to have em go to waste.” Adds the smiling man with a nod, if he doesn’t just love seeing you looking like shit. No Sam I do not accept this invitation for you to tell me how crazy I look.

Sam means well of course, but damn he loves teasing you in front of Bucky for a fun reaction out of him. And it’s kind of working, but not on Bucky.

“It’s fine Y/N, you don’t have to have one if you don’t want to.” Calls Natasha before taking a sip from her mug. “Just ignore Sam, he’s been annoying since the gym.”

Before Sam’s even able to speak you quickly narrow your eyes at him, holding up a finger before making hasty steps across the room. Stopping right in front of him, “Give it.” You deadpan.

Brows raised in surprise he glances from a confused Bucky, then back to you again, “Listen I only made so much, Y/N this is my breakfast okay you can’t just...”

Ignoring his rushed rambling you pull out the whole glass blender full of protein shake before taking a step back as the whole room goes quiet, then never breaking eye contact you heartily drink up the whole entirety of its cold contents without missing a beat. Yeah, definitely needed that.

After you’re finished you lick your lips in satisfaction, taking a step closer towards a speechless Sam as you set the blender back in its place. Giving him a satisfied smirk before walking back over to Bucky where you tug on his jacket to follow you down the hall and away from everyone else.

Sometimes you can’t help but be a little dramatic.

——

Laying sprawled out on yours and Bucky’s giant mattress, you stare up at the ceiling as he folds your clean and freshly scented laundry, your mind swirling with thoughts of what duties you have to be apart of today. Blah, work.

Sighing gently you glance at Bucky to see if he heard you, not getting anything from him you sigh again with more grandeur this time. Nothing. Rolling your eyes you suck in a deep breath before practically soft yelling out your exhale like the dramatic little beast you are.

Glancing over to Bucky, you watch as he turns around to put some of your pants away in a drawer. Okay then, that’s how it’s gonna be. Quickly sitting up, you smirk a devilish grin before silently reaching over to pick up a small pillow, once in hand you don’t think twice before launching it at full speed directly headed for the back of his head.

But before your decently soft projectile can smack his precious flowing locks does a metal arm swiftly reach up to catch it mid flight. Oh, shit. Bucky’s head turns to you, brow raised at you before tucking the pillow underneath his arm, and going back to his usual domestic duties for the day.

Okay, killer of fun Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Frustrated from lack of a reaction out of him, you stand up on the bed like a warrior about to give a great battle cry. Eyeing his cute butt up for a moment, you smirk once again before launching a sneak attack pillow right for his head. It sails magnificently across the room before a metal hand stops it in its place. 

Well, shit.

This time he gives you a proper look, full of mischief and a new profound playfulness that sends an excited thrill throughout your entire being. As fast as one of Thor’s lightening bolts does the pillow soar in your direction, but conveniently for you he’s forgotten just how quick you can really be. This is just what you wanted.

Dodging to the left you watch in almost slow motion as the fluffy cloth just misses your face, instead opting to smack against the back wall with a loud thud. Snapping your attention back to Bucky he narrows his blue eyes at you suspiciously while you let out an admittedly scary villainous chuckle.

Let’s party my love.

He hands you a smirk right before shifting his body to the right, arm cocked back and thrust forward just as quickly, launching his second pillow attack without an ounce of mercy. You see it coming a mile away and as graceful as a dancer do you flip off the bed, landing perfectly on the carpeted floor just as the pillow smacks hard against the door. Thwack!

Slowly standing, eyeing him up like a lioness to her prey, you give him a satisfied smile, “Missed.” You tease.

Letting out a breathy laugh, Bucky takes a cautious step in your direction as he tests the waters, “Y/N what are you doing?”

“Getting your attention you ass.”

Chuckling he takes another step forward, “Was I ignoring you?” Duh, that’s why I, oh wait he’s playing you.

“Well you certainly weren’t doing anything interesting.” You sass as he steps again closer, this time about an arms length away.

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, “Okay that’s fair, but was the pillow really necessary?” He asks, though his tone is still humorous.

Not falling for his alluring charm you tilt your head to the side, a knowing smile breaking out across your face as he tries to register what your true intentions are. “Yes, and so is this.” You quip before dropping to the floor for a side sweep of his legs, in an instant he’s on the ground and looking wide eyed up at you.

God he looks beautiful. No, focus.

“Y/N!” He whines breathlessly, brows furrowed as he holds himself up by his elbows, “Now you’re gonna get it!”

Taking a quick step back you snort, “Oh really now?”

And he’s fallen for the plan.

“Yes, and when I get you, you won’t be laughing anymore.” He grumbles, trying to keep himself from laughing as well.

“Alright then hot stuff try and bring me down.” You snap back playfully as he rises to his feet, “First one pinned has to run with Sam later, and we both know how much fun he is to run with.”

Bringing his arms up into a defensive position he readies himself for an attack, “Yeah, I’d rather not be his jogging buddy today. I mean it is raining outside, but I know you’d look real nice after a wet run.” Teases Bucky with a smirk.

“Touché you smartass.” His lips twitch into a grin as you ready your own stance. “Now let’s dance.”

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Winter Soldier (Chapter Four)

Summary: (Y/N) and Sam worry about their new super-soldier friend after it’s revealed that he’s on the run and wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D., the very agency he’d dedicated himself to.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Four (Previous Chapter)

“It’s such bullshit! Captain America’s a criminal now?!”

“I know, Greg.”

“They haven’t even said what he’s done!”

“Yep, it’s ridiculous…”

“How can they organize a manhunt for him but not say what he’s supposedly done?!”

(Y/N) pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated groan. “Greg, you’re my friend and I love you but I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

The line was silent for a moment. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been having the exact same conversation for almost a half an hour! You can’t believe that Cap’s a criminal, I agree, you complain that they haven’t said what he’s wanted for, I agree, then you start going all ‘Law and Order’ on me!” She exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst; with a sigh, she sat down in her desk chair and rubbed her forehead. “I’m sorry, Greg, that was rude. I don’t like what’s going on either; Captain America stands for freedom and honor, he always has, and it just seems…wrong that he’s the subject of a manhunt. I seriously doubt that Captain America of all people did anything to break the law.”

“Wow, when did you become such a big Cap fan?”

“I went to his exhibit when I was at the Air and Space Museum yesterday, and I guess it got me interested.” (Y/N) half-lied, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater as she pressed her phone closer to her ear. “Anyway, the reason I called was to tell you that it might take me a little longer to get the draft of my book to you; I still need to look over the last couple of chapters and with everything happening…it might be hard to focus on writing today.”

“Don’t worry about it, Mike’s busy reading through a nine-hundred-page thriller that was sent in this morning so that’ll give you some time. Sorry to cut this short but I’ve gotta go, I have to check on mine and Mara’s dinner reservation for tonight, so I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)!”

“Talk to you later, Greg!” (Y/N) hung up and set her cell phone down on the desk with a sigh. Ever since she and Sam turned on the television at breakfast and saw the breaking news, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong; Steve Rogers wouldn’t be on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. unless he had a damn good reason to be. I’m sure he’s fine, he’s probably been through much tougher scrapes than this, she thought to herself with forced optimism as she turned on her laptop and began typing.

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

Humming along to Billy Joel’s ‘Movin’ Out’, (Y/N)’s fingers flew across her keyboard as she typed and she smiled, proud of the fact that her writer’s block from the week before was now officially over and that she was so close to completing her very first novel. Not bad, not bad at all, she thought, hitting the ‘save’ button and stretching her arms over her head to relieve the build-up tension in her shoulders.

“Now this is good music, Booksmart!”

She spun her desk chair around to see Sam standing in the doorway of her bedroom and raised her eyebrow as she turned down her music. “Oh, so Billy Joel’s okay but everything else I listen to is garbage?”

Sam gave her a teasing eye-roll. “I never said that your music was garbage, I just said it was weird. How’s the writing going today?”

“I edited twelve pages and just spent an hour trying to describe a Soviet Cold War-era missile, so it’s been okay. How was work?”

“It was good, I didn’t have any meetings scheduled so I spent most of the day playing chess with the old timers. I swear, I think Gary cheats but I can’t figure out how he does it…”

(Y/N) shrugged. “Or maybe you should just accept the fact that you’re terrible at chess and the old timers take great pleasure in seeing you lose.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. You still cool with driving me to the shop to pick up my car?”

(Y/N) got up, turning off her computer and unplugging her MP3 player from her speaker with a grin. “Of course! Driver picks the music, though!” She laughed and practically skipped out of the room as Sam let out a groan of defeat and followed her. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Birdbrain, it’s not like I’m making you listen to a CD of ambient throat singing!”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you had some of that…”

Five minutes later, they were on the road and the two of them were singing along to her one of Panic! At The Disco’s newest singles at the top of their lungs; out of the corner of her eye she could see other drivers shooting them odd looks but she couldn’t care less, she was enjoying herself far too much.

Sam chuckled as the song came to a finish. “Damn, their new album is good. You know, I didn’t start listening to alt-rock until I met you.”

“Then you should be thanking me for bringing such good music into your life!” Giggling, (Y/N) turned down the volume and glanced over at the cheerful man sitting beside her, her smile faltering as she asked, “Do you think he’s okay, Sam?”

Her roommate’s expression grew serious and he shook his head. “I really don’t know. I saw on CNN earlier that inside sources claim he’s wanted by S.H.I.E.L.D. in connection to the assassination of their director, but I don’t buy it. The guy we’ve met, who’s so dedicated to his job that he hasn’t bothered getting a life outside of it, wouldn’t be a part of something like that. I think something else’s up and I’ll bet anything he’s out there trying to figure it out.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip, nodding after a moment. “Yeah, me too.”

“Just you wait, this whole mess with S.H.I.E.L.D.’ll be cleared up in no time. I’m calling it right now, Steve’s gonna ride up to the VA on his motorcycle and dramatically whisk you off your feet, and the two of you are gonna ride off into the sunset together while one of those sappy love songs you pretend not to like plays in the background.” Sam's teasing smirk widened when her cheeks flushed. “C’mon, Booksmart, you both were mooning over each other like teenagers after the meeting yesterday; I felt like I was in the live studio audience of a soap opera taping.”

“You know, I could always kick you out of the car and make you walk all the way to the shop, if you'd prefer.”

“And I'd still get there before you ‘cause you drive like a grandma...”

Soon after, she pulled into the auto repair shop’s lot, parking under the shade of a tree before turning to Sam with a smile. “Did you want me to stay just in case your car isn’t ready yet?”

“That would be great, actually, thanks!” Sam gave her a grin before getting out of the car and heading into the shop.

(Y/N) rolled down the windows and sighed when she felt the soft spring breeze against her skin. Taking advantage of the peaceful moment, she let her imagination wander and began brainstorming different stories and characters in her head. You should probably finish the book you’re writing before you start on another one, she thought with a playful eye-roll. Her childhood dream of becoming a published author was in the middle of coming true, and she couldn’t be any happier about it.

Just then, her eyes drifted to a silver truck that was driving past the parking lot. It was going fast so she couldn’t get a very good look at the driver, but for a split second she could have sworn that the man driving the truck had the same blonde hair and chiseled jaw as Steve Rogers. Chalking it up to worry for the runaway super-soldier, she closed her eyes and murmured, “Whatever he’s up to, I hope that he’s staying safe.”

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

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4BenknAqQQnOWY8NmSa23V

Tagging: @mrs-obrien​ @lahoete​ @awkward117​ @cminr​ @momc95​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @marinettepotterandplagg​ @khuang3​ @supersouthy​ @benakenalove​ @brooke0297​ @hufflepeople​ @becausewelie​​ @outoftheregular @supreme-tantrum​

Chapter Five

“The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

[borkthemork]

Here are some deleted scenes from Falling Down Dry, enjoy!

----- [CHAPTER FIVE]

If the king really did have that much faith in her, then why would Marcy say no? The whole term didn't sound bad. If guard training had anything to go by, it sounded like a school — a school full of not only organized turntables and schedules but the potential to learn how a sword works in actual combat — and when it came to school Marcy knew how to balance her time well.

Whatever happened, she needed to think smarter, not harder.

"The training toward the role of guard is a perilous and back-breaking commitment, Miss Wu," Lady Olivia explained. As they past an intersection, it became clear to Marcy that the guards that accompanied them were getting tensed with each second. "Best for you to be careful, and make friends to guarantee your safety."

Marcy cocked her head. "Have you been here before, Lady Olivia?"

Lady Olivia stared at her, perturbed.

"It's just that you seem to know about this place in a lot more detail than I expected," Marcy said. Was it alright to ask that question? Lady Olivia did seem the kind to remain secretive, or at least unappreciative of people meddling in her business. Marcy relented nonetheless. "Not like you have to tell me, just curious."

Lady Olivia watched her from the corner of her eye. "I have visited the barracks numerous times in my youth."

"Out of curiosity for the soldiers?" 

Their feet traveled the paths until eventually, they stopped at the administration's door.

"One can say that," Lady Olivia finally said, before she beckoned Marcy to the opened door.

At the administration office, Marcy listened and watched Lady Olivia as she talked to the head newt behind the desk. There were exchanged politics, talk of Marcy's species, at how her head tuckered low due to the barracks ceiling, and then a familiar set of questions about training, intermediate work.

-----[CHAPTER SIX]

"Understandable. It's not usual to be dropped into an alien world. From what you've told me, Earth sounds more foreign to any frog. newt, and toad in a hundred-mile radius; it makes sense for the reverse to be similar."

"Well, yeah. Back on Earth we had machines that can do math, and can basically teleport us to anywhere on the globe if we got the money for it. Although, I can say one thing. Your economy is a lot more forgiving."

Andrias arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"You know how Newtopia is into the exchange of coppers?"

"Yes. Go on?"

"Well back home, they're basically useless. Three hundred coppers here can mean a whole life supply of beetle burgers, but for us that's enough to get us a pack of bubblegum."

"I don't see the problem here. Bubblegum is a serious industry in the city." When Marcy stared, he could only snort. "Just kidding. Very much kidding."

-----[CHAPTER THREE]

She had been lead down numerous roads. So many roads that Marcy had no clue where she first started walking off to and where she was currently in the city. Didn't help that the city was a massive place, and that the denizens around her stared as if she was a fish out of water — but that could be with the fact she was a legit fish out of water but they didn't have to worry about.

The newt general who escorted her — Yunan, if she could recall — had taken the time to lecture along the way of her military exploits. 

That wasn't bad. Actually the idea of a newt general telling battles from the sand wars out in some desert area to the fact she was the youngest newt out there to conquer the ranks of the military was the most exciting parts to learn about this world.

She didn't need to worry about handcuffs too. From what Yunan told her, with the pound of her chestplate and the huffed from her chest, was that she didn't need to worry of Marcy running. And even if she did, she wouldn't get far. Which was the coolest and most terrifying thing to ever be told to her if she wanted to be honest.

Eventually the surroundings turned to higher elevation. The more she peaked at the horizon, she spotted the cool glimmer of the moon amid the tides that Marcy always suspected. The iridescent waters, the crisp brine air, the glimmering lights of the sleepy town city — an absolute delight to look at, made her lose her breath by just the sight of it.

"No stalling, creature." Yunan shoved her forward. "Sightseeing isn't going to save you under King Andrias's scrutiny."

"Well, that's a bit of a bummer," she mused. 

After all, the sight of Newtopia looked absolutely lovely to look at, even more so than the lookout points Marcy liked to go to in the outer areas of Los Angeles. Something about this place reeked of nostalgic. Perhaps it was because the whole place screamed of fantasy aesthetic or that there were too many questions to shove into her darn brain. Those were all possibilities.

For now, however, Marcy just a little happy walk, climbing up the spiraling roads while the newt groaned behind her.

"Stop that! This is no happy matter!"

Marcy smiled and ceased her fidgeting. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just so excited. You have no idea."

"Yes, I do not have a single clue as to why you're like this," Yunan huffed. She kept puffing out her chest, seeming to try to catch the glimpse of the armour's metal in the moonlight. Not a bad look too. "You're supposed to be shriveling up in fear, especially under my presence."

"I don't know, dude. I mean you're a really high-class authority when it comes to this society, and I think that's really neat that you're so loyal to the king like this." Marcy meant it all too. There was always something rad about a person who knew what they want and what they wanted, grabbing the opportunity rather than having it slip to the wayside. "Especially with your claws out. What type of metal is that?"

Yunan blinked at her. She chuckled momentarily, and sheathed the blades back into her gauntlets. "Well, well. You see here, my blades were gifted to me through trial by combat in the sand wars."

Marcy gasped. "No way!"

"It is all the way!" Yunan exclaimed. "Rivorn the Scornful wanted my head way back before I garnered my many medals. He harbored jealousy, malice, and wanted to trick me by having me battle unarmed."

"And you knocked him out of the park, didn't you?"

"I crushed him to death!"

"Yeah! Wait, metaphorically or—?"

Yunan continued however undeterred, brave tears shimmering in her eyes as she once again showed off her blades in a few open slashes. "In the end he gave me his gauntlets, and I'd entrusted my safety to them ever since."

"And," Yunan continued, "We have arrived."

[baroquebucky]

“my judgement's clouded like tonight's sky”

in which steve has a little too much to drink and confuses himself even more

a/n: i lost the ask for this request ,,,, pls forgive me for taking so long to do these omg I’ll try to upload as many as i can of the 1d anniversary special one shots this week !!

you weren’t exactly sure what to expect when bucky called you, first you thought oh god did i do something to piss him off and this is the end of me and then you thought is Steve okay?

Your crush on America’s golden boy was nothing short of obvious, small touches and sweet smiles were only scratching the surface of how you acted around steve, always making sure to dress somewhat decent and doing your best to impress him. Steve however was as oblivious as always, he thought that’s how you were with everyone and he was nothing special; plus why would someone as amazing as you settle for him and all his baggage?

You rubbed your eyes as you answered the phone, pausing the show you were watching to listen to bucky on the other end of the line.

“can you please just come get Steve and tell him you’re in love with him” the sergeant groaned and your face flushed.

“what? no!” You shrieked, getting up and turning off your tv. You put the phone on speaker as you quickly tried to find some socks and shoes to quickly slip on.

“y/n he’s been so pathetic all night! going on and on and on about how he will never find love because, and i quote, ‘the one i love will never see me in the same light’” he gagged as he recited Steve’s words. That man did tend to get poetic when he was shit faced.

You smiled as you slipped on your comfiest shoes and picked up your phone, “I’m on my way, but not to tell him i love him” you huffed and hung up before bucky could talk you into anything else.

Music softly hummed through your car as you drove to the compound, you could hear the sound of thunder as you drove, you hoped it didn’t rain before you got back.

As you arrived at the compound you realized how poorly you were dressed, an hoodie way too big for you and fuzzy pants with snowflakes on them, as you passed by a mirror you realized your hair was all over the place and you felt yourself get nervous to see Steve. You quickly walked through the long hallways, following the sound of laughter and music.

Almost the whole team was there as you were now even more embarrassed of your attire. You debated turning on your heel and leaving but Bucky quickly noticed you, curse his super soldier senses.

“y/n! finally, just grab Steve and take him out somewhere please we can’t handle him anymore” he groaned, hugging you and shoving you towards Steve.

“guys y/n is here!” Bucky announced and everyone cheered, getting up to hug you and thank you, just by looked at nats tired eyes and Tony’s sigh you laughed at how miserable they must have been to hears Steve ramble on for an hour.

“alright wheres the golden retriever” you sighed and they all pointed at the bar, and sure enough there he was pouring himself another asgardian drink. You quickly jogged over and swatted the drink from his hand before he could down it.

“nope, I’m cutting you off right now” you stated, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the bar, you could feel him wanting to resist (you were glad he didn’t because you didn’t stand a chance) but he eventually gave in and followed you.

“y/n! what are you doing here” he smiled, his eyes slightly hooded as he followed you, shaking your head you mumbled “probably making a bad choice” you sighed, saying goodbye to everyone as you and Steve walked back to your car.

“where are we going? can we go to your apartment and i can make that lego set you haven’t finished” he giggled and you rolled your eyes at him for teasing you, “you’ll see” you mumbled quickly opening the car door and shoving him in, putting his seatbelt on for him and he gave you a kiss on the cheek.

You flushed red and quickly shut the door, getting into your seat and driving away from the compound.

“Bucky tells me you’ve been yapping all night” you say, seeing Steve roll his eyes at the mention of his best friend. “Bucky doesn’t understand me” he states, and you can’t help but burst into laughter.

He looks at you confused and you wave him off, “you sound like an emo teen” you giggled and he huffs, “I’m not” he complains and you hum as he crosses his arms across his chest.

“where are we going” he asked as you drive past your apartment, “to a park” you state simply and he furrows his brows.

“you won’t be drunk in about 20 minutes give or take and i need you to be sober when i tell you everything” his face is laced with confusion as he looks at you and then back out the window.

By the time you get to the park 15 minutes have passed and you can tell he’s starting to sober up as he flips through your music settling on the same song he skipped four times before looking out the window again.

“okay we’re here” you smiled and Steve got out of the car quickly after you, walking slightly behind you as you took him to the swings.

“why are we at a set of swings in the middle of the night?” Steve asked, raising a brow and you just smiled softly.

“i come here to think all the time, it’s nice to just swing and let everything go, i think you should try it” you encouraged him as he seemed apprehensive of the idea before you sighed.

“I’ll start then,” you breathed in deeply before starting, “i worry too much that i won’t be enough for the people i love, i think too much and talk myself out of being brave because i think i don’t fit the role” you mumbled and turn to look at Steve who was listening intently, as you started again he stared up at the sky, dark clouds covering the bright moon.

“your turn” you whispered and he nodded.

“I’m too indecisive about the things i want.” he simply stated and you swung lightly, staring at your feet as you encouraged Steve to continue. “I know what i want, i know who i want, but my judgements clouded” he grumbled, “like tonight’s sky” you added with a smile and he let out a breathy laugh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Bucky told you what i was upset about didn’t he” Steve sucked in a sharp breath before looking at the moon and then back at you, who nodded softly.

“and?” He asked, voice soft and slightly trembling.

“and i think whoever it is, most definitely sees you in the same light mr. America” you teased and he laughed, crinkling his nose at the nickname.

“do you?” he quickly looked at you and you nodded, “yes stevie boy i just said that i do” you laughed, quirking a brow at him and checking to see if somehow he was still drunk.

“no i mean- what i meant was do you see me how i see you” his blue eyes piercing into your side as you quickly set both feet down, causing an abrupt stop to your calm swinging.

You opening your mouth to say something but nothing came out, your mind going a million places at once and you weren’t sure what to say, ‘yes Steve I’ve loved since the day you bought my beta fish a bigger tank because you knew how badly i wanted to have a themed aquarium but couldn’t afford it’ or the deep poetic course ‘of course i do, how could i not when your the light that helps me through all my dark times.’ In the end it was neither.

“we’re under the same moon” was all you came up with and you have never hated yourself more. You could almost hear Steve’s heart crack and you quickly got up and cupped his face in your hands, pressing your lips together and squeezing your eyes shut. He took no time to return the kiss, quickly putting his arms around your waist.

You pulled away breathless, red and scared, you didn’t know what the hell was gonna happen now, before either of you could say anything steve pulled you in again kissing you again, this time softer and with a small smile; then a loud crack of thunder causing you to jump forward, you teeth hitting each other as rain poured onto the two of you.

Both of you burst into a fit of laughter as you went back in for another kiss, Steve effortlessly lifted you up and ran to your car for cover, he set you down softly as you reached into your pocket for your keys, quickly unlocking the car and both of you hurrying in.

It was quiet, with only the pitter patter of the rain outside and the thumping of your hearts.

“does this mean you do like me?” Steve asked innocently and you turned to look at him with wide eyes, “obviously!” You laughed and he blushed, nodding his head with a small smile on his face. “now what?” He asked as you drove away from the park and to your apartment.

“now you stop acting like you’re in a Shakespeare play everytime theres asgardian shots” you teased and he rolled his eyes, intertwining your fingers together as the two of you headed back to figure the rest out.

[speechlessxx]

Heaven is in Your Arms

(Steve Rogers x Reader)

Summary: Steve Rogers has a secret. 

Warnings: beat up Steve, slight nudity (but like not really), nothing “bad” really happens here. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy!

Steve Rogers had a secret.

No one noticed at first. He kept it well hidden. But everyone noticed the changes in the captain.

On days when he didn’t have any responsibilities – just a day to himself – he would’ve normally been spotted in the compound’s gym or in his quarters, tidying it up. He’d await the next mission, preparing his body and his mind for the next fight. Then it changed. On days when he’d have no Captain America duties, he was out the compound and he’d always return with a smile.

“I went and took a jog,” he’d say.

“For the whole day?” Sam would ask. Steve just nod.

“Missed you in training, cap,” Natasha teased once. “Where were you?”

“Drawing in the park,” Steve shrugged. She’d scoff. What a grandpa.

 It didn’t stop there.

Everyone assumed Steve’s life revolved around the compound – around the Avengers. It sure seemed like it. He put blood, sweat, and tears into training recruits. His body bruised, scratched, bloodied after missions. He never ventured out. His friends started and ended with the team. He was the Avenger – the first one at that.

So, imagine everyone’s surprise when Steve Rogers announced, “I’m moving out.” Though he was – technically – one of the oldest men in the room, aside from Bucky, everyone reacted he was a defiant teenager. “I found a place in Brooklyn.”

“But isn’t this your life?” Tony asked him, gesturing to the team, the compound. Steve bit his tongue but never answered.

“This about a girl?” Bucky frowned. Everyone stayed silent. If there was a girl involved, they would’ve wanted to meet her. They would’ve wanted to ensure that whoever is taking Captain America away from them was worth it.

“No, Buck,” Steve’s reply was short, sweet. “I just… I just want a life outside of all this.”

And everyone left it at that. Who were they to keep the man who threw his whole life into the ice bound to the compound? “Let him live,” Sam defended.

(“Ten bucks there’s a girl,” Bucky whispered to him after the team watched Steve drive away on his motorcycle).

The changes continued.

During meetings, there was clearly something on Steve’s mind. He was there, but he wasn’t there. The perfect soldier’s leg bounced anxiously when he used to sit perfectly still. He used to be able to recall nearly every details from meeting – even the way Tony would switch pointers from one hand to the other. Now, he’d have his head cradled in his hand as he feigned interest as Tony nagged. He’d pay attention, of course (he wasn’t being rude), but he wasn’t actively listening. He knew the important details. 

Not to mention that damned cellphone. Steve used to have that thing silenced and stashed away in a pocket especially during meetings with the team. Suddenly, Steve had the phone faced down on the table. It buzzed. He ignored it (truthfully, he didn’t realize it buzzed). It buzzed again a minute later. Then again a second after. Steve pulled his phone under the table and crack a small smile. He’d type a response and put the phone back, face down. 

He also used to be the last one to leave. Now, as soon as the meeting reaches its end, Steve would shoot right up and go.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” Tony called out once. “Hot date?”

“Sure,” Steve couldn’t help but smirk and gave the door frame a pat. “Sure.”

But the small changes in the super soldier’s behavior didn’t affect his command on the field. He was still as deadly, fearsome, and intimidating. He was still Captain America.

Although he may be enhanced – thanks to the serum that ran through his veins – he still got hurt. He’d still take a beating sometimes. Maybe a jab too hard in the ribs that left a few broken. Or a deep cut that needed stitching. He bruised, he bled. He was still human after all.

-=+=-

The sun had already set by the time the quinjet landed. Everyone had various injuries, and all were eager to get a good night’s rest after this long, hard mission. It had taken longer than expected. “Five days, doll. I’ll be back in five days,” Steve’s promise was fresh on his brain as everyone began to file out of the jet.

It had not been five days. It had been a week and a half. And Steve was just as eager to go home.

“Hey, Steve, your room is still empty. Bed still there. Call it a night,” Sam suggested, putting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’m sure Brooklyn can wait.”

“No,” Steve forced a smile, his face bruised but there were still a few bloody cuts. “It can’t.”

The ride to his place in Brooklyn felt longer than it used to. Perhaps, he was just tired. The moon was hidden behind the clouds as he finally arrived and parked in the parking garage of the apartment complex. His gear had been left behind at the compound. 

He made it a point to leave Captain America in the Compound and come home as just Steve.

He quietly walked up the steps of the apartment complex, trying not to make much noise. Although the neighbors were very kind, he knew that interfering with others’ sleep wouldn’t end well for him. As he reached his apartment door, he fumbled with the keys a bit. His hands were tired and ached.

“Oh, you’re home,” his neighbor, an elderly woman named Margaret – of all things – smiled. With her aging eyesight, she didn’t see the state he was in.

Steve smiled at her. “You should be asleep ma’am.”

Margaret didn’t respond. She just cracked a smile. She always liked Steve’s manners. She was watering the plant that she kept by her door. “Your girl’s been worried sick, you know. Kept going on about how you told her five days. Not even a phone call? You should have one hell of an apology ready.”

“Trust me, I do,” Steve chuckled lightly. “You have a goodnight.”

“You, too, Steve,” Margaret responded.

Steve managed to fumble the right key into the lock and twisted. The apartment was dark but just as clean as the day he left. The knickknacks were reorganized. The shelves were dusted. He smiled to himself. Of course, she’d keep herself busy with cleaning. 

He quietly took a shower and rubbed off all the grime that collected in his skin in the past week. The water that drained beneath him was tinted red as he cleaned his cuts. He dried himself and walked into the bedroom.

And there you were.

You were huddled on your side of the bed. There was an indentation in the sheets where he would’ve been. You were wearing a modern baby doll nightie.  He remembered that specific negligée for you’d take photos in them and send it to him when he was in meetings. Come home soon, the message teased. The black mesh draped over the curve of your torso. You were situated in a way that made your bum stand out in those matching black panties.

You were fast asleep with the covers only covering your feet. You were shivering. He assumed that you may have kicked the covers off like you often did. Steve quickly got dressed and got into bed.

You woke up as you felt the dip in the mattress. With sleepy eyes, your head shot up and blinked in surprise. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” his familiar voice cooed. “Just me.”

You let out a shaky sigh. You had been angry that it had been past the five days that he promised. But that anger quickly turned into concern. Why hadn’t he called? Not even a text? Was he okay? The apartment felt so lonely without him. And you feared the day he doesn’t come back from a mission. Were you to find out like everyone else? (Were you to find out through the news that your boyfriend was dead?) And now that worry – that fear – all washed away into a sense of relief.

He was right next to you and even in the darkness of the night, you saw the concern in his blue eyes. You relaxed into his touch, putting your head back on the pillow. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you to him. He let out a sigh. He missed you. So, so much.

You both laid there in silence as he spooned your backside. His grip on your body was tight as if he was afraid that you’d slip through his grasp. You shuffled your body, making yourself face towards him.

You frowned then got up. Something was off. You leaned over him to the nightstand and turned on the lamp. You let out a gasp when you saw his face. He had a swollen eye and a bruised lip with crusted blood forming at the side. He had a bruise on his temple – the discoloration was an angry purple.

Tears began to form in your eyes as you pulled up his shirt to find his body in an identical state. “Darling,” Steve sighed, pulling you towards him as you cried. You shuddered as the tears rolled down your cheeks. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I’ll heal. Please stop crying.”

“You’re not hurting?” You asked him. “Oh, my god, you need ice?” Steve chuckled, shaking his head no.

“I’m just tired,” Steve smiled. “Let’s just go to bed, yeah?”

You leaned over and gave him a soft peck, careful not to press too hard on his injuries. “I’m glad you’re home,” you whispered.

“Me, too, doll.”

He reached over and turned off the lamp. The two of you settled into bed once again. He pulled the covers over your bodies. The bed had felt so big without him to take up the other half. Steve reached down and grabbed the back of your thigh and hooked it over his waist. Your arm instinctively wrapped around his broad chest.

Steve let out another sigh as he finally fell asleep.

Steve Rogers had always fought to make the world a better place. He fought the battles, won the wars, so that everyone could have somewhere safe to be. And he finally found his safe place.

This was heaven for Steve Rogers. The home that you built together. The life that you were building. You are heaven for Steve Rogers. 

(And yes, in truth… Sam owed Bucky ten bucks. Not that he knew right now.) 

Read Part 2 (Secret’s Out) but you don’t really need to. 

[kashimos-hajime]

my heart went with you | b.b.

summary: a tale as old as time: the charming boy and the golden girl he could never get, and how they spent their last days together.

WARNINGS: fluff, love, angst, mentions: war and death, nudity, swearing pairing: 40s!bucky x fem!reader word count: 7.3k

a/n: written as a lil snapshot about some unspoken love and rivalry. for @ussgallifreyfics​​​​, my prompt was you’ll never know by vera lynn. i really love writing some soft tenderness so enjoy!!

“Buck.”

The man standing before the tombstone looks up, over his shoulder, to Steve.

“We need to get back before it gets dark.”

And then he smiles, hands shoved in his pockets and starts heading towards his friend. Slinging an arm around Steve’s skinny shoulders, he does nothing more than knuckle the blond’s head. Steve winches, punching him in the gut and Bucky laughs, stumbling away as they pass the iron-wrought gates of the cemetery. 

“Jus’ wanted to say my goodbyes,” Bucky says, adjusting his jacket as they head up the street back towards Steve’s place. His best friend sweeps his hair out of his face, cheeks already burning in the dusk and Bucky’s smile softens for him. “Y’know your ma was the best thing.”

“I know.” At that, Steve seems to stand a little straighter and Bucky’s grin grows. 

“C’mon. Let’s get something to eat before I’m stuck with chewin’ on boiled leather boots.” 

“Maybe Becca’ll make you a few sandwiches to take overseas,” Steve mutters. Bucky shakes his head, lifting his chin to the wind. It smells rich of summer, clean and light in the dying sun, and Bucky feels a bit empty as he turns his gaze to his best friend.

“Yeah, maybe.” 

The rest of the walk to the little diner by a construction site, and Bucky walks in to see a few tables full, and a few of the stools occupied.  

“Bucky!” 

His name catches his attention and he spots a redhead waving with a smile. Steve hides his grin as they head towards her, and Bucky can’t help but notice when Dot’s smile grows at the sight of Steve. 

“Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Dolores,” the blond man mumbles, sliding into a stool while Bucky sits down between them. “You here alone?”

“Oh, no. My friend’s just gotten some news so Joe let her out back. How are you, Bucky?” Dolores chews on her bottom lip, stirring her milkshake absently as her round eyes gaze at him. “I heard… you’re joining the boys in England.”

“Shipping off in a few days, actually,” he says with a slight smile just as a door swings open. 

“James.” 

Bucky’s eyes close.  

Oh, how much he utterly despises that voice. The sound of his old top rival at school, the girl with the infuriatingly cool smile, the clever glint in her eyes. Prettiest, smartest, nearly the most athletic. 

Almost perfect. 

It’s like a cold wind washes into the diner as he plants his hands on the counter and twists around with an arched eyebrow. 

You stand before him in a green dress, eyes effortlessly cool, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. You look gorgeous. 

Not that Bucky would ever admit that to your face. 

“Y/N. Fancy seeing you here.”

He doesn’t say you’re perfect because if there’s one thing he hates about you, it’s… you. 

“Hello, James.” You flash him a wry smile before turning to Steve. “Hi, Steve.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

Your smile softens, and Bucky feels a flare of irritation lick at his insides at the way your expression seems genuine, sitting on the opposite side of Dot with an envelope. Your best friend places a gentle hand on yours, and the corner of Bucky’s lips pinch when he notes the slight tremble of your hand reaching for your own milkshake.

“What’s that?” Steve asks, eyes narrowing at the envelope and you smile guiltily, placing a hand over a stamp.

“My forms,” you say quietly. “I’m being shipped off in a few days.” 

“Oh.” Steve’s eyes immediately dart to Bucky’s face but the blue-eyed soldier is too busy scrutinizing your face. You don’t say anything, simply sip on the straw between red-painted lips as Dot wedges the envelope out from underneath your elbow and pry it open.  

Dot purses her lips in a frown as she reads through the forms, her hand coming to your shoulder but you plaster a smile onto your face even though Bucky can see through the cracks of your mask. Your eyes flit to his as if you realize he’s staring and the smile melts away. 

Something cold slithers into his gut at the thought of you on the front lines beside him.

He notes that when you think no one’s looking, your mask seems to slip. You catch him staring more than once, but you don’t say anything besides point out that there’s ketchup at the corner of his mouth.

.

He notices you smile little.

He doesn’t mean to notice things about you, but as they sit on the edge of the pier, Bucky can’t help but notice that about you. Steve had offered to walk Dot back home (or she was walking him home, you had muttered under your breath) and that left the two of you to walk the wharf because really, neither of them wanted to go home yet.

Bucky didn’t want to miss a second of his city. He wants to stay out as long as he can, take it all in before it’s too late.

The water is calm, lapping at the wood, and it smells like sea-salt and adventure on the wind. It sneaks into his lungs, makes him light-headed with a kind of childish innocence he can’t recall feeling before. Your legs swing, barefoot against the breeze, and his sleeves are rolled up as he glances at the sinking sun.

It’s barely gone before a chillier gale sweeps through the pier and he sees you shiver out of the corner of his eye.

The silence that has fallen over the two of you for what feels like hours now doesn’t need to be broken. He doesn’t believe you’re keen on talking as he grabs his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly. 

You don’t protest, your eyes on the distant horizon. 

Instead, you reach up to tug the lapels close around your neck and when the pads of your digits brush against his, he feels something inside him twist. Stomach in knots, he looks down at the murky depths. 

This is how it has been for years now. He’ll catch you alone, and they’d sit together for hours. On the bus, in the park.

He doesn’t like you, but he knows it’s partially his fault, and your silence is honey to his bitter tea. 

“I think we’re going to die,” you say at last, voice startlingly quiet in the night. Your chin is lifted as he looks at you, and there’s a soft, bitter smile on your lips as a breeze plays against your cheek, with the strands of your hair. You don’t look at him, and lean into the wind.

Bucky has half the mind to bar you from leaning any further in case you fall into the chilling water.

You look at him, lips barely parted, and swallow the same hard knot in his throat. 

“What makes you say that?” he asks.

“My daddy was in the first war,” you remind him, and Bucky chews on the inside of his cheek as your gaze drifts again. You’re thinking about him, thinking hard enough he can hear the gears grinding in your head. “He’s never been—was never the same when he came back. .” 

It’s not that Bucky’s never thought about death.

It’s that he refuses to. 

He won’t think about an empty tomb until he has to. 

“Yeah, I know,” is his gentle reply.

The water crushes gently beneath their feet and the darkness falls slowly, a gentle cascade into midnight ink as the world around them begins to die. Warm, orange sunlight is replaced with gauzy yellow streetlight and there’s the sound of people yelling their goodnights as they close up shop. 

He leans back on his hands, lets his legs swing freely as he listens to some seagull call in the distance.

“I think I’m scared to die,” you say. Your words are nearly lost in the wind, but Bucky hears you clear as a church prayer. He pushes forward and gently places a hand atop yours along the wooden planks. You don’t react to his touch, and he closes his eyes, leaning tentatively until his forehead pushes against your cheek. 

“Me too.” He whispers it like a secret into your skin, and you turn to look at him at last, eyes glazed and distant, but present enough to see him. He lifts his chin to soak in your face, the silver light playing with the shadows on your face. Your eyes are enough to reflect the moon as he looks into your gaze, and he feels like he’s drowning in your depths before he blinks, inhaling sharply.

The bitter bite of cold wind in his chest snaps him out of his trance and he clears his throat, drawing his hand away from yours.

“It’s getting too late,” he says, ignoring the smallest of frowns pulling at your cheeks as you pull his jacket tighter around your shoulders. “I should get you back home.” Getting up, he brushes off his bum and turns to you, extending a hand. You don’t move, and his brow wrinkles as he steps closer to the edge. “Doll…”

“I don’t want to go home.” 

Falling into a crouch beside you, Bucky rests gentle hands on your shoulders and you seem to shiver underneath his palms as you turn to him, eyes glassy.

“She’ll hate me. My mom will hate me for enlisting, James,” you whisper as you twist to face him fully. “But we need the money. We need the money, and—”

“Your sister is just old enough to begin working,” he finishes. You nod shakily and he sighs, hand flitting around your face. He’s unsure of how to touch you, if you’d even let him, and he settles on tracing the curve of your cheek as he sighs. Mind churning, he simply watches as you close your eyes, diamond tears dripping against his fingers, and he wipes them away with gentle thumbs. Your cheeks are being to freeze in his palms, and he puts on a smile, a small one but one nonetheless as your eyes open again.

“I don’t want to go home, James,” you whisper, crushed and he chews on his bottom lip.

“Come on.” Pulling back, he grabs your hands and he’s surprised by how quickly your fingers wrap around his as he gets you to your feet. You let him drag you away from the waters, his coat swaying on your shoulders “I know where we can go.”

.

“Why here?” you ask, your hands wrapped around the chains as Bucky kicks off the dirt. He fights off the chill trying to sneak into his guts as you fiddle with his coat buttons. He’s managed to persuade you to actually put it on. “It’s actually kind of… strange to be here.”

“You’ve never been in a playground after dark?” he teases, getting off his swing and walking around you. You lean back to keep your eyes on him and he can’t help the fluttering smile playing on his cheek. 

“No, because this is trespassing.”

“Live a little.”

“I know you and your friends would always sneak in. Heard it from all my friends,” you comment with a roll of your eyes. “They thought you were all so cool.”

“It was always Steve’s idea. They were always welcome to join us. So were you.”

“Well, I was at home or at tennis practice, and Daddy always used to pick me up before…” You clear your throat. “Anyway, no. I wouldn’t have.” You swing your legs back, gaining a bit of momentum and he smiles. He remembers when all he would do was spend afternoons here, watching Steve swing beside you, fingers outstretched and barely brushing.

How envious he had been at your shrieking laughter. The nasty pout that’d settle on his lips.

To be a boy again.

“Well, we have a whole night to waste away,” he says, grabbing onto one of the swing chains and pulling you to a jerking halt. Your seat twists, twirling in half-circles as you lower your feet to the ground and lean forward, arms linked by the elbows on the chain. “And I thought we could bend the laws a little.”

“The whole night,” you repeat, bemused, and your eyebrow twitches up when he grins. “I have to get home at some point.”

“Don’t worry. There aren’t any big bad wolves out here.”

“What are you gonna do? Fight ‘em off?” you sneer and he huffs.

“I’ll protect you. Obviously.”

“I’m sure my mother will thank you,” you retort. “What do you have in mind?”

“So the good girl does have a trouble-making side.”

“Well, it seems my last few days on this side of the ocean are with you,” you reply, standing up suddenly and Bucky backs up when your face comes barely an inch from his. Eyebrows rising in surprise, his eyes widen as you dust off the back of your dress and adjust his jacket on your shoulders. It looks good on you. “What does Brooklyn’s Bad Boy know?”

“A lot more than you.”

“Oh, really?”

“Do you remember this playground?” 

“Well, I did just say you and Steve would trespass.”

“I mean, do you remember what it means for us,” he emphasizes and you brush past him, fingers wrapping around the pole as you walk around, soaking in the sight of the barren place. No laughing children, no berating teachers. Nothing but Bucky’s heart and your tiny sigh.

 “I saw you walk your sister home from here once,” you offer with half a shrug. “You saw me and crossed the road just so we wouldn’t cross paths. And there,” you say, pointing at the see-saw, “is where we sat together once in the rain. I think you were waiting out here in the cold. I felt pity so I sat beside you until Rebecca had finished school.” You grin, your features softening as you drag your gaze from the see-saw to Bucky himself, and he’s confused at the heat that floods his chest.

There is no indignant spark, no triumphant gleam in your gaze. Just you.

“That’s when I knew you were stubborn as they come. The ‘thank you’ you gave me sounded like someone pulled it outta you, but… you said thank you.” Then, your lips curl and you blink innocently at him. 

“I don’t recall that.”

“Yes, of course you don’t. You don’t remember a thing that paints you in a bad light.” Your eyes twinkle with mischief, eyebrows rising as you turn away and he walks after you, words nipping at his lips.

“Alright, and you. What about you?” Bucky taps his chin, pretending to ponder but one moment sticks out to him anyway. “As your chemistry partner, I remember saving you once or twice from nearly burning your skin off.”

“And as your biology partner, I remember dissecting the frog while you excused yourself to the bathroom.”

“Then, it’s good we’re not scientists.”

“Good.”

“Good!”

Silence.

This is why they bode better in silence.

Bucky doesn’t understand how they can argue, disagree, spat over the most mundane things, but they do.

You turn away, arms wrapped around your middle as you walk to the hopscotch square and walk the lines drawn into the pavement.

“Well.” There’s an odd pause when Bucky clamps his mouth shut because he doesn’t know what he is going to say next, and you turn around to stare at him oddly, waiting for what comes next. “Well.”

“Well,” you repeat expectantly, and his mouth opens and closes a few times.

“Well, maybe we oughta stop arguing if we’re spending the night together.”

“Do you have to word it like that?” Bucky shoots you a look, and your shoulders slump as you sigh. “I’m sorry. I agree. I’m done quarreling. And to be honest, it’s draining, though I never figured out why you hated me.”

“To be honest, doll,” he sighs, “I don’t know either. It’s just been that way for so long, hasn’t it?”

“I suppose so. Although I know what contributed to my end of this animosity was your proclivity to hover around me.”

“Well, I never could stay away. Seems everywhere you went, I was there somehow, too,” he mumbles and your face softens as you let your arms drop. Approaching him slowly, your eyes do not stray from his face as you flatten your palm against his shirt. You’re warm over his heart, and he wonders if you can feel his heart beat in his chest as you take care to make sure he looks into your eyes. 

“Maybe it was because of Steve,” you say curiously, your fingers playing with the button along the seam. “I know you’re protective over him and us being friends… I never set out to despise the school’s golden boy.”

He finds nothing sour in your gaze, nothing harsh, nothing trembling or bleeding. Maybe time heals all wounds. Maybe it just scars ‘em over. 

“And I remember the boys hating how much I hated you.” Placing his own hand atop of yours, he studies your expression, the way your eyebrows seem to twitch. He hasn’t been this close to you ever. Not on purpose.

Even in the silences before, they knew to keep their distance.

“I guess you were just so perfect and smart and Steve seemed to liked you more than he liked me sometimes.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Everyone liked you.”

“Everyone liked you, too,” you argue. “When you were elected prom king was the worst moment of my night.”

“Only because you were elected prom queen and hated being near me.” He grins when you laugh, your gaze falling to the small distance between them before your eyes find his again, bright with mirth, and his own smile flickers. “I dunno if I got jealous, but I knew I could count on you to challenge me, to distract me from whatever else is going on. You make me righteously angry, but you were also… my companion in a way.” His heart is hammering in his chest as you search his gaze and he wonders when he stopped finding the way you glare irritating and more… beautiful. “I dunno when you became more than that.”

“More?” The word falls gently from your lips and your hand slips from his as you back away. Gates rise before your heart, and he swallows as your gaze searches his. “As if.”

“I never once backed down from a fight for your honour,” he points out and you wrinkle your nose, the uneasiness in your gaze melting away as you turn to the hopscotch again.

“Oh, I know. You punched Barry Turner when you heard he kept touching me.”

“You heard about that?”

“News traveled fast at school.”

“Just like how I heard you slapped Macy Middleton in the gym.”

“She kept spreading rumours about you.” You shake your head. “Rumours Steve told me you hated.” Bucky scoffs and your voice rises in defense. “I tried to tell her to stop, and then she called me a gold digging bitch who only acted like I wasn’t sucking your cock every night.” Eyes widening, Bucky shakes out the feeling crawling down his spine at the mental image flashing in his head as you chuckle.

“Vulgar.” “You’d be surprised by how vulgar dames can be when we’re angry,” you reply easily, shoving your hands in the pockets of his jacket as you whirl around in the empty playground. You are so free like this, bathed in nothing but the faint streetlight and Bucky can’t help but follow, entranced. “Where’re we off to next, anyhow? The night is still young.”

 “Tomorrow we could see the fireworks on Coney Island, but for now, maybe some we could invade a cemetery to hunt ghosts, or go nude swimming at the beach…” he trails off intentionally, and laughs when he spots your expression. It’s almost stricken, definitely shocked. You turn your face away and his expression softens when you begin to walk away. Half-jogging to catch up to you, he falls into step beside you. “Unless you don’t wanna go swimming. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”

You stop suddenly and he halts as well, jarringly and cheeks burning but he’s not sure if it’s from shame or from the cold.

And then you turn to him, and your eyes are dancing from glee, and his eyebrows knit together as you burst out laughing.

It’s so loud he’s sure it’ll wake those sleeping in the buildings nearby as you cover your face with your hands. You try to catch your breath, and Bucky runs a hand through his hair, confused.

“James Barnes, flustered. I thought I’d never see the day,” you finally wheeze, clapping him on the shoulder before continuing on the walkway. Bucky’s mouth drops open as he stares after you. “Let’s go. If we’re going swimming, we should grab some towels and head down to the beach.” Flicking your wrist, you gesture for him to follow.

And he does.

He realizes he’d go anywhere you’d ask him to.

.

Bucky sneaking into his house to grab some linen and even a bottle from his mother’s prized collection was not on his list for the night.

But it has made him a subject to your constant teasing, which he can’t complain about.

He hasn’t truly recognized what he’s doing until they’re on the beach already, shoes kicked off and toes sinking into the still-warm sand. 

Untucking his shirt, he begins to unbutton it as you walk to a spot along the shore, putting down the linen and the bottle of whiskey. Carefully undoing the buttons of his jacket, you glance back at him as he approaches, and the moonlight carves into your face elegantly.

There’s an intensity, a heat that fills the silence as he pulls open his shirt and begins to unbuckle his belt. You slowly shed his jacket and fold it over your arm, setting it beside the towels and there’s a fire that burns as your eyes trail up his chest, up to his eyes only to find him already staring.

His heart is melting in his chest, nothing more than an inferno that singes his lungs as you begin to unbutton the front of your dress.

Movements are slow as honey, sure, but purposeful. The way he slides the suspenders off his showers, the gentle flick of your wrist as you undo the button, and Bucky watches as your fingers slip through fabric. His throat is drier than the hottest day in Brooklyn, and his tongue flickers out to wet his lips as you tear your gaze away to focus on undressing.

Words bundle up in his throat, and he glances out to the ocean, ever moving and gleaming silver. The water ripples like silk, the foamy crush seeping into the pale sand.

“James.” Your voice is softer than thunder as he looks to you, and he swallows a thick knot in his throat when he sees the front of your dress wide open. His gaze stays on your face as he pulls his belt out from the loops.

“If you’re uncomfortable…”

“No. It’s okay.” I trust you. “And you?”

“I’m good.”

You let the dress fall in a crumpled heap around your legs. Gooseflesh begins to rise along his arms as he does the same with his shirt, and it’s almost intimate the way they undress underneath lunar glow.

He pulls off his pants, you unwind your girdle and unclasp your bra.

He steps out of his underwear and so do you, and it is breathless the way heat sucks into his lungs. His chest is cloudy, stuffed, and he cannot help but feel lightheaded as he struggles to take a breath. His hands curl into fists as he resists the urge to brush hair away from the slope of your shoulder.

He silently asks a question.

And then, you, with the tiniest dip of your chin, consent.

His eyes roam, as do yours, and it is almost like he is in another plane of existence as he trails past your breasts, down to your legs and up again. His stomach flips and his lips part as he watches your chest rise and fall with your breathing, admires the pouch of your stomach that’s so often hidden away.

Despite what you put on, you’re just as soft as anyone. Just as human.

When eyes meet again, it is like something clicks.

He sticks out your hand, silently asking you to take it.

Your palm slots against his like it is meant to be.

.

It is an awakening. A rebirth, almost.

A clean slate.

They wade in the ocean until their fingers prune and they are aching for something more than just salt water and cold waves.

The hours after the swim is just as quiet, just as reverent in its motion, as they lie on a towel. Another is draped over your body. Bucky, the same, salt water clinging to his hair and skin.

Somehow, they are sweating despite the frigid waters.

“I know I said I am afraid to die,” you say as they stare up at the stars. His whole body is humming with burning blood. “But more than that, I’m afraid of the fear. If that makes sense.”

Bucky turns his head to look at you, commit the profile of your face to his memory as you look at him as well. Salt water glimmers along your cheek as the corner of your mouth simply tugs up in a sad smile.

“I understand,” he whispers. “I feel like it’ll paralyze me. It does, just imagining it.”

“Exactly.” You turn your gaze to the stars again. The whiskey is half empty between the two of you, and it warms the blood in his veins as Bucky feels the back of your hand brush his. His whole body is strung out on electric wire, and his hand alights, every finger tingling. “Do you think we’ll be staring at the same stars?” you ask.

“I sure hope so,” he says. “Maybe we’ll be somewhere close.”

You exhale, long and heavy through your nose. “I hope so, too.” You adjust the towel on your chest as you drag your feet against the linen underneath your back. “Did you ever… I mean…”

“Hm?”

“I’ve never been naked with a man before,” you say, rolling onto your side, one hand clutching the towel to your chest and he glances at you, his blue gaze downy soft as he traces the slope of your nose with his eyes. “Much less go swimming nude with one.”

“Who would have thought?” he murmurs and your smile grows, eyes fluttering down, away from his face and then back again. “I’m glad you trust me, now.”

“Oh, I think I’ve always trusted you,” you whisper, breath tickling his lips. He can taste the liquor on your tongue as he gently inclines his head towards you. Noses nearly brush and he begins to smile. “Thank you… for this. For everything.”

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s done nothing except bring you nude swimming at the beach, but it feels wrong to say so, so he simply replies, “You’re welcome.” Then, more genuine: “Thank you for indulging me. It’s not every night I’m here with my supposed archenemy,” he teases and you chuckle deep in your chest. At least you’re not too somber to laugh.

“It was nice,” you assure him quietly. “It’s different when I’m with you.” Your hand goes from your chest to his shoulder, tracing invisible shapes and marking them into his skin. He nearly shivers at your touch, but maybe it’s the cold. “You’re not afraid of the quiet.”

 It’s like I can be myself.

Bucky wonders if the fire in his chest is from the alcohol or something else as your fingers slowly interlace with his.

.

The days pass by in glances, fleeting touches. In bright sparks, sunny days, movie theatres. 

You smile more with every waking moment Bucky spends with you.

If Steve notices anything, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom last minute before the movie starts, prompting you to sit beside Bucky in the dark for two hours.

It is that day he realizes you don’t like horror pictures, and the day after he learns you adore science films. More parts of you unveil themselves, just like how he discovers you enjoy hotdogs on Coney Island the night they watch fireworks together and how you can weave flower crowns with practiced fingers when they spend an afternoon with Ma and Becca.

It is almost like he’s known you his whole life.

.

He asks if you want to go to the Stark Expo. He doesn’t imply that it is a date, and by the innocent quirk of your eyebrows, you don’t think of it as such.

You say yes, and spend the whole night by his side.

.

“James.”

Your voice is lit with surprise, brilliant in its loudness and he turns to where you’re wading through the crowd. You’re darling in your nurse’s outfit and he almost blushes when your dancing eyes find his.

Matched with your morning smile, he can’t help but smile himself.

There’s a somberness to you, though, that he wonders if only he can see as Rebecca pushes past him and throws her arms around you.

“Y/N! Thank god you’re here on time,” his sister says and you smile, patting the girl’s back. “How was the Stark Expo? Was there really a flying car?”

“It was a nice night out. But, what are you doing here, Rebecca?” you ask, bemused, and his sister’s shoulders rise and fall innocently as she turns back to Bucky. Your eyes find his and he half-smiles as if to apologize, but you shake your head minutely. “I thought you said only your mother was seeing you off.”

“Well, Bucky said you wouldn’t have anyone throwing you a farewell party and I thought I ought to join,” Rebecca says, her lips curling into a smirk. “Bucky talks a lot about you.”

“Oh, do you?” you mutter warily, eyeing Bucky who is shooting daggers at his sister. “Am I supposed to take that as a compliment or does he only complain?” The corner of your mouth quirks up as you look at Bucky and he rolls his eyes. 

“Well, before it used to be complaining. It’s much nicer now.”

“I assume it’s about our science classes together.” You’ll never let that go and Bucky snorts, trying to cover up his amusement. “Although, seeing as he’s going off a soldier, he seems to manage just fine without me, now.”

“No, I don’t.” The words fly out of his mouth before he can stop it, and a silence falls between them. You stare at him, trying to decipher what lays in his face, and he gazes, embarrassed, into the depths of your irises. Your lips part as if you want to say something, but the words seemed to have dissipated in the wake of his response, and his hands curl into fists in an attempt to stop himself from touching you somehow.

Make everything worse, anyhow.

“Can we have a moment alone?” you ask quickly, clearing your throat with raised eyebrows. Rebecca, tucking a curl behind her ear, glances from Bucky to you, before smirking and nodding emphatically.

Bucky internally sighs.

Can his sister make herself anymore obvious?

Turning to their mother who had watched the whole debacle just occur with amusement, Rebecca loops her arm around hers. “C’mon, Ma. We should… head over there. Look at the ships,” she suggests and Winnifred huffs a smile. Catching your eyes, his mother rises an incredulous eyebrow and your mouth drops open when his mother wraps you in a warm embrace,

“Stay safe on that side, dear. I would love to get to know you once you come home from the war,” she says. You seem to soften in his mother’s arms before she pulls back and then Rebecca throws herself at you. You catch her, of course, and your eyes flutter shut.

“I’m going to miss you so much!” Rebecca murmurs into your neck and you gently run a hand down her back, sweet smile upon your lips. “You better come back and marry Bucky,” she adds fiercely and Bucky rolls his eyes, trying to conceal the heat that flushes over his entire body as you open your eyes and look at him. Your face is set in stone, serious as a librarian during exams, and you study him, the blush pooling in his cheeks despite the cold wind.

“We’ll be back, and you will be our chief wedding planner,” you say, drawing back and the air in Bucky’s lungs disappears. “I promise.”

You’re magic, that way. You manage to make him feel these things he doesn’t understand are possible.

He can’t breathe, his heart beating in his head and throat and everywhere. You’ve captured him in your gaze and even when you look away, his body struggles to work. Unblinking, he watches your mouth move but he can’t hear a thing. Everything is white noise and he cannot see anything in this crowd except for you.

Throat dry, he feels the last bit of air left in his chest escape in the softest of sighs before a hand settles on his shoulder and he flinches to see his mother smirking at him.

“Ma,” he breathes, shoulders dropping. His heart is racing in his chest, bouncing on the walls of his ribs. “You scared me.”

“You let your guard down around her,” she says with a shrug as if to say she’s not to blame. 

“What are you talking about, Ma?” He struggles to keep his tone non-confrontational but he doesn't understand why he’s so defensive. Is he worse around you? Better? And has he just found you just to die battlefields apart?

“Oh, I’ve never seen a girl make you quite so flustered. Normally, it’s the other way around.”

“She just gets under my skin. I don’t like her that way,” he lies, shaking the feeling out of his jacket but it still lingers at the nape of his neck, a wriggling, tickling sensation.

“In my experience, it’s the ones who challenge you that are the ones you can’t let escape.” His mother cocks her head, eyes narrowed in an emotion Bucky can’t decipher before she turns to pry Rebecca off you. “Let’s go, Becca. We’ll see Bucky before he boards.”

“I’ll come find you,” he promises, and you wave to his family as they sink into the crowd, your eyes warm and empty with realization.

This is it.

Bucky doesn’t know what to say, so he shuffles closer to you, catching your attention again.

“Marry me?” he repeats fondly, and you smirk, the hollowness abating you for just a moment. Bucky wonders if it’s the same for you. If he makes you forget the way you do for him. “And here I thought you hated me.”

“Well, we have to give her sister what she wants, don’t we?” He chuckles and your smile is a flimsy thing before your face turns serious again. “And I don’t hate you,” you whisper, your body stiff in the cold dawn, and he adjusts the nurse’s cap on your head before thumbing over your cheek. You melt into him, shoulders falling and eyebrows knitting together, and you don’t smile, but he can read it all in your eyes.

You surrender to his touch, let him tilt you forward so he can gently kiss your brow. The place is bustling and the crowd pushes them together as he wraps his arms around you, pouring all he cannot say into where his lips meet your skin. You do not speak, and simply snake your arms around his waist, pull him close.

There they stand, and Bucky thinks he can get used to this feeling.

This warmth, the strength of your body against his, the way you make his heart swell larger than life.

“Is it too late to tell the boys I get seasick?” he asks, and you laugh.

He loves the sound of your laugh.

“Might be, Sarge.”

He thinks he loves everything about you, really.

“I do have something for you, actually,” you say as his forehead presses against yours and you mumble it under your breath. Around the ruckus of the bustling port, your voice is all he focuses in on. “It’s just me being… I don’t know, superstitious, I suppose.”

“What is it?” He feels your hands shift between them as you pull something out of your pocket, and it is a simple ring, gleaming gold. “We’re not actually getting married, are we?” he asks breathlessly, eyes flickering up to yours and you lift your head as you take his hand and slide it onto his right middle finger.

It’s a bit too loose, but he watches it settle upon his hand anyway.

“It was my father’s,” you explain quietly and he knocks his head against yours. Your eyes flutter shut at the warmth of his brow against yours and he aches to kiss you, but he doesn’t. “It was supposed to give him good luck, and he always said it kept him alive during the war, and it worked, so…” Your hands cup his neck, and your thumbs brush against his jaw. His hand comes around your waist, the other settling in the small of your back. The ring is cool, a new tiny weight on his hand and something inside him collapses. “Stay safe on the other side, soldier.”

“Is that an order?”

“Doctor’s orders,” you affirm, your lips twisting into a grin. “You ought to follow them.”

“I will do my best,” he whispers and you chuckle. “And I’ll see you on the other side of the war.”

“It’ll be awful boring without you otherwise.”

“As it’ll be boring for me without you.”

Noses brush as you lean towards him, your fingers warm and cold and strong, desperately holding onto him. For a moment, he thinks you might kiss him, and your breath ghosts against his lips before you halt, just a whisper away from him. Everything zeroes in on you. He can hear nothing but your soft breaths, his heart in his ears. His stomach tugs him in every direction and he swallows, eyes cast on your lips, your eyes, every part of your face.

Then you turn your face away, your aching sigh against his cheek. His fingers dig into your flesh through your dress, and your hands slide down his shoulders.

His heart cracks.

Tilting your head, you swallow and he can hear his heart in his ears, as his hands draw to your waist. Then, you turn your head and your lips almost brush his. 

He can taste you, just barely, the smell of perfume clinging to your skin. How easy it would be, to simply close the distance, push his mouth against yours and feel you kiss him back, except it wouldn’t be easy at all.

He knows why you don’t kiss him. 

It’s the same reason why he doesn’t kiss you.

Kissing makes it real, makes it true, makes it too hard to leave and you need to go. If you kiss him, you will never leave his arms and if he kisses you, he will evade any force that will force him overseas just so he can stay with you.

No matter how much his heart yearns to reach yours, no matter how much he wants to taste you, feel you beneath his hands…

He doesn’t.

He can’t.

To kiss you would be to make it real. To manifest something between them left unsaid is a frightening thing when they stand in death’s palm.

It would be unfair. It would be cruel to love only to die, but he does. 

In the past few days, he has felt everything the stories always said about love: fulfillment, pure happiness, indescribable joy and a lightness to his chest he has never felt before.

Heartwrenching agony. Poisonous grief. A pain enough to shatter bones.

He loves you, and he is devastated.

“Goodbye, Sergeant Barnes.” You pull back, your hands sliding down his arms and he catches your fingers in his, desperate not to let you slip away. Only to prolong the inevitable. Your eyes are struggling not to shed their tears, your lips twisted in a bittersweet smile as you struggle to come up with a way… a way to say everything you cannot say aloud. He doesn’t want to see you cry, but he does not say so. He is barely breathing. “Goodbye… Bucky.”

It isn’t enough.

It never will be.

“Goodbye, doll,” he whispers. Your eyes flicker from his face to his hands, and he squeezes your palms gently before you tear yourself away, force yourself not to look back, slip into the crowd and disappear forever.

He does not chase after you even though he does not want your story to end.

.

“Buck.”

The man standing before the tombstone looks up, over his shoulder, to Steve.

“We need to get back before it gets dark.”

And then he smiles, solemn and sad before turning back towards the stone. Stepping closer, he crouches before the engraved stone and runs a hand carefully over its curve. 

“I’ll see you next weekend, doll,” he whispers, leaning forward and pressing numb lips to cold stone. The emptiness inside him seems to sew itself shut, just an inch at both ends, before he draws back. His metal hand flutters over the engraving, and his lips part in a silent sigh before digging through his jacket and setting the simple, golden ring in the dirt. It glimmers in the pale sunlight, and he smiles but it disappears before it can truly settle. “The ring worked. God, I only wish it was with you.”

He stands and turns back to Steve.

“I just wanted to say my goodbyes,” Bucky says, voice barely louder than the autumn wind. “Y’know, she was… She died so young. She was…”

He doesn’t want to say love of his life, because that means he missed it.

Missed his chance.

“It was quick,” is all Steve says. “A bombing. If she felt any pain, it was only for a second.”

“I think it would’ve been the fear that killed her,” Bucky replies softly, walking towards his old friend. “It’s getting late. We should start heading back.”

“We could get something to eat—” Steve tries, but Bucky merely shakes his head. 

“I’m not hungry tonight.”

When he gets back to the facility, he excuses himself to his room and puts on a record that was all the rage back in their day. He vaguely recalls it playing a few times when the Commandos were out late drinking in London.

Every time, he thought of you, somewhere out there, and the mandatory prom king and queen dance they had together.

What he wouldn’t give for another chance to dance with you again.

He collapses on the bed, lying down and letting the music lull him to sleep. Eyes slipping shut, he imagines a life where he had said something different, imagines a life where the dreams he dreams now are a reality.

He imagines a life where you knew he loved you.

Where it wasn’t too late.

“If there is some other way to prove that I love you I swear I don't know how You'll never know if you don't know now You'll never know if you don't know now…”

[the-fifth-marauder03]

Hey Hun :) I saw that your requests are open and I'd like to request a Chris Evans one shot ^^ Maybe she's coming home from her walk with Dodger and sees Chris sitting on the couch reading a book with some glasses on. And you can't help but admire him and realize how much you love him and just walk towards him, straddle him, kiss him and tell him that. You can make it smutty if you want to ;) Thank you! ♥️

I was very happy to write this. I hope you like it and that this is what you had in mind.

Also my requests are still open.

Lenses and love

Her walk had been peaceful. Dodger had trotted happily beside her as they walked to the nearest park. Y/n and Dodger played with a ball for about an hour. When the duo finally got tired, they sat by a pond in the middle of the park. The woman and pooch calmly watched geese swim until it was time the head back home. On the way back, an older couple was smiling loving at each other as they walked arm in arm. Y/n briefly wondered what it was like to share so much love that it would last well into old age. She imagined the couple as her and Chris. She thought of how he would still hold her wrinkled hand and she would still love to kiss his wrinkled cheek. She imagined the happiness they would share. Some kids stopped her asking timidly if they could pet Dodger. The woman happily agreed. Dodger loved affection he practically lived for it.

The rest of the walk home was relaxed and uneventful. More people grinned at her and Y/n beamed back. The day was good for her. She'd spent the morning with Chris. They'd talked about theories and ideas, the future, anything they could think of really. After lunch, she took Dodger on his daily walk while Chris piddled around the house.

Y/n walked up the steps and into the spacious hallway. After unclipping Dodger's leash, the dog sprinted to his owner. As she slipped off her shoes she listened to Chris speak to the dog.

"Did you a mama have a good walk? Yeah, and you kept her safe right? Good boy! That's my boy."

Y/n smiled as she slowly walked down the hall towards the living room closet. Chris greets her as she opens the closet door to hang up her jacket.

"Hey sweetheart, have a good walk?"

"Oh, yeah. Dodger did great. Let some kids love him and stuff. I saw this old couple on the way to the park and they looked s--" Y/n stopped short she had closed the door and looked at Chris to find an absolutely divine sight. He had glasses rest on the bridge of his nose and he was looking at a book that lay in his lap.

Chris looked up at the abrupt silence, "They looked what sweetheart?" He had a sweet, innocent smile on his face.

Y/n thoughts were anything but innocent. Chris looked like something out of her teenage fantasies. "They looked so happy. The old man had his arm around his wife's shoulders, and she was laughing at something he said."  As she spoke, y/n made her way towards the couch.

"That's sweet. I love when I see old couples together. Their love has stood the test of time." Chris beamed at her as she moved nearer.

"Yeah, it has, they're smiles were so big. They looked at each other like the other hung the moon and stars. Also, when did you start wearing glasses?" She was standing in front of him now.

"I was having a bit of trouble focusing my eyes this afternoon, so I dug out an old pair I got from a movie." He closed his book, studying her reaction.

She hummed as she looked over his feature. She recognized them as the ones he wore in winter soldier. Y/n vaguely remembered him mentioning that the lenses were real at the premiere. They were simple frames, but they brought out the contours of his face nicely. They made him look older, 'no', y/n thought, 'more mature'. She thought back to this morning. She was listening everytime he spoke. She just wanted to stare at him and listen to him all day. Then she thought about the old couple she'd seen and how she hoped it would be her and Chris one day. How she hope he would love her as much as she love him. How she wouldnt care that his youth would give way to old age. She didn't care that he would lose his abs and maybe his hair because she was in love with him. Holy shit! I've fallen in fucking love with the man, She thought. The weird thing is she couldn't even pin point when it happened. When the love FOR him turned into being in love WITH him. She hadn't notice that she'd started frowning.

Chris frowned in return, "Do you not like them?" He raised his hand to remove them and y/n abruptly straddled him staring meaningfully at him.

"No I love them and I," she paused, she had never said it to anyone before, " and I love you."

Chris positively beamed, "Oh thank god, I love you too"

She leaned down and kissed him. Sweetly at first then it grew hungrier, rushed. Breaking away for air Chris reached up to remove the glasses but y/n stopped him

"Don't you dare take those off." She grabbed the sides of his face under the glasses.

Chris' eyebrows raised in surprise, then he smirked knowingly, "Sweetheart, do you have a glasses kink?"

"Yes and no." She smiled devilishly at him.

Chris tilted his head confusedly, so she elaborated. "When I was in high school I had this hot teacher fantasy and then I come home today and see you sitting here with these fucking glasses on, looking like you could teach me so many things." She whispered the last part in his ear and nipped it as she pulled back.

He growled lowly, "Oh, I'll teach you a lesson, little girl." He grabbed her hair and pulled her down to him. Their lips crashed together roughly and he bit and licked at her bottom lip. She sighed and he slipped his tongue in her mouth taking control immediately. The hand that wasn't deliciously pulling her hair travelled down her back pulling her closer and harder against Chris. They both sighed as she started rocking against his growing bulge. He pulled back and watched her with hooded eyes. He dragged his thumb across her bottom lip and she took it into her mouth suckling it.

"Okay, little girl. If you want something to suck on so bad you can get on your knees for me." His eyes darkened more.

"Yes, Chris." She went to move but was stopped when Chris' hand landed on her throat applying slight pressure.

"It's Mr.Evans to you little girl."  It was short and simple and it made y/n ache.

"Yes, Mr.Evans." She practically moaned.

"Good girl, now get to work." Pushing up the glasses that still rested on his nose.

[aoifeanamadan]

After School Special

Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)

Word count: 4386

Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)

Summary:

The sky is blue, the sun is hot and Dream hates George.

Everyone knew Dream hated him, really hated him, all smug and sarcastic and closed off. Where Dream was friendly, loud and outgoing, George was quiet and pretentious. It was like he thought he was above everyone else.

Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.

Support this work on AO3 :)

Chapter Two: Montague versus Capulet

Change is hard. It’s a universal truth. But for Dream, change was foreign. It just didn’t happen. He did the same thing every day. Get up, sunrise, shower, breakfast, get in Sapnap’s truck. The days were all the same, they pushed into each other.

It was as if his life was made up of concrete blocks, one for every day. He was stacking them, and the more weight he added, the less space between the blocks. They were pressed so closely together, the weight of a lifetime keeping them tight, there was no room for opportunities to worm themselves in.

That wasn’t to say it was bad. He liked his life. It was fine. He had friends, hobbies, he did great in school. He was captain of the state champion soccer team. Girls liked him. It was all perfectly fine.

His new weekend arrangements threw a spanner into his routine. Instead of watching Netflix from his couch in his pyjamas, he was sitting at the breakfast table across from his dad. His father’s attempted conversation was a sorry replacement for Netflix’s D-List cartoons.

His dad was him lecturing about something, but it was as if Dream had cotton in his ears. His father’s throwaway words about consequence and responsibility were muted. He was saying something about the image Dream had to project as soccer captain when a ding came from Dream’s phone. It was Sapnap.

Sapnap  

(9:37 am) hey im outside lets go

Once Dream read the text he was on his feet, toast in his mouth and jacket in his hand, rushing muffled goodbyes to his father. He heard the vague well wishes as he left.

Sapnap was a good friend, but one of his best traits was knowing when to be the enemy. The second Dream got in the car, he was complaining. About his dad, George, these stupid weekend classes. His lamenting was cut short. Before he could fully develop any of his woes, Sapnap was interrupting.

“Dream shut up,” he whined. It caught Dream off guard, stopping him in the middle of his first anti-George rant of the day. He looked at Sapnap, wounded. Sapnap just rolled his eyes. Dream gave up on the hurt puppy charade. He had only been on the first part of the speech, George’s entitlement. He didn’t even get to parts two, three or four (George’s pretentiousness, George’s fakeness and George’s sense of superiority, respectively). Each part was ten minutes long.

“Dude?” He didn’t like the distant hurt that he could hear in his voice. Sapnap softened.

“Sorry, it’s just like, this is your fault Dream.” This was not how Dream had expected the drive to hell to go. “You started the fight, and it’s not like George wants to do this either.” He knew Sapnap might have been right, but  Dream soured at the thought of Sapnap and George’s friendship. Them discussing how Dream had ruined his weekend plans for the next two months, George trying to steal his best friend.

He pushed down the feeling of betrayal, it wasn’t fair to Sapnap. He could reserve that feeling exclusively for George.

“Yeah, maybe.” Dream hummed, noncommittal. He glanced out the window, the school was in sight. It was towering over him, looming and gothic. Dream was suddenly overcome, every part of him was saying don’t go in. He pushed the thoughts down and refocused on Sapnap.

“You might even enjoy it, George is really funny!” Dream could tell he was trying to spin this into a positive, but the thought of having to spend two hours a week with George for two months made him feel hopeless. He imagined it, the hours he’d have to listen to George try to boss him around, trying to make him feel stupid. George would try to one-up him every chance he got, that was just who he was. He could never just let Dream win.

Before Dream could reply, the car was parked. He looked at Sapnap, who didn’t seem quite as sombre as Dream did. To Dream, it felt like a solemn occasion. To Sapnap, it felt like dropping his friend off while he was on his way to do the weekly food shop.

“I don’t want to go in.”

Sapnap, ever sensitive, just laughed. He shoved Dream’s shoulders towards the door in a gentle but firm attempt to get him out of the car.

“Go on Dream, I have to get shit for dinner.”

Dream was walking and into the school before he had the chance to talk himself out of it. He wasn’t worried about the work. How hard could it be to recite some Shakespeare, or whatever it was they did in weekend English. He was worried about who he’d have to work with. He didn’t know anyone taking the class other than George.

When he entered the classroom, he was sure he was in the wrong room. At first, he thought there was no one in there. That was before he noticed the woman in the corner, facing the walls. Dream felt like he was interrupting something. He knocked on the door, which was already open. It was more of a polite way to say ‘Excuse me miss, you’re not possessed, right?’. She whipped around at the sound of Dream’s knuckled on the heavy wood. He was fairly sure she was not possessed.

As she stepped quickly towards him, he noticed her jumper. Plastered across the front there was the face of a multi-coloured pug. Her hair was wild around her, swamping her face, and her glasses made her eyes look like orbs too big for her face.

“Hello dear, sit down please, sit down. Welcome! You must be George?”

Dream rushed to correct her, rather than be mistaken for George of all people, but she had already moved on.

“I am Ms Dahlman, so so happy to have you here in English. What an opportunity! God, you’re so lucky. In my youth, we didn’t have these weekend class options. God, so lucky you all are. I am just so happy to have you here!” She was talking a mile a minute. Dream felt paralysed under her gaze, waiting for her to take a breath so he could interject.

She continued for four minutes, telling him how lucky he was to have this opportunity. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t his choice. He did however want to clear up that he was definitely not George.

Before he got his chance, there was another knock at the door. George’s voice came from the doorway, slow and soft. It was a stark contrast to Ms Dahlman.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the room. I’ve never had weekend classes before.” George was standing, messy-haired and disinterested. Dream thought he looked arrogant. It was just like George to be late, he had no regard for other people’s time. Something shameful in Dream couldn’t wait to tell Sapnap, to prove he was ten times the friend George could be. But he wasn’t sure if good punctuality was quite enough to convince him.

“It’s fine, just come in.” Ms Dahlman sounded pained at the interruption, but she soldiered through. “You can sit down here next to George.”

George, the real George, quirked his eyebrow.

“That’s funny, my name is George too.” Dream wanted to wipe his smug smirk right off his face. Ms Dahlman however, seemed overjoyed with the development.

“Oh! Two George’s! Heavens above, who would’ve ever thought? I knew your name couldn’t be Dream, but that was all it said on the attendance form they gave me! I said to them, I said ‘Dream? Well that can’t be a real name, can it?’ but they told me it was the preferred name, so it was what I was to use. George is much more sensible.” Dream felt his cheeks burning, but he didn’t want to get aggressive. He tried to push the feelings down.

Looking at George, who seemed barely able to contain his laughter, made that a lot harder. Dream nodded at Ms Dahlman, to be polite, but she didn’t notice. She just continued speaking, something Dream was starting to note as a consistent course of action for her.

“As I was saying, the grade you get in this class will be added to your overall GPA for the subject. Normally, it’s used to bring up the average but obviously,” she gestured to the empty class “people just don’t care about English the way they used to.”

Only then did it strike Dream, him and George were the only two taking the class. Unless someone was running 8 minutes late for the first class, no one else was coming. Dream wanted to sink into his chair and never get up again.

Before he could figure out how to melt himself down, Ms Dahlman was explaining their first assignment.

“Now, for the first two months boys you will be writing a speech!” She paused, for dramatic effect. It didn’t work. Dream and George were looking at her with the same badly disguised disinterest. She continued, consistent as ever. “Now I heard about your, how to put this, communicational issues .” She grimaced at the mention of Dream and George’s earlier conflict.  “So!” She punctuated herself with a short clap. “The speech will be titled ‘What my partner has taught me.’ It’s going to be a great opportunity for you two to learn how to cooperate!”

Dream did not want the opportunity to cooperate with George. He was stuck up, rude, inconsiderate. He acted as if he was better than everyone else, scoffing and looking down at them. Dream had plenty of friends, he didn’t want or need George.

Ms Dahlman, unsurprisingly, was not finished speaking. And so she continued, taking Dream out of his pessimistic thoughts.

“Now, I can see no reason to keep you here.” Dream and George looked at each other instinctually, then up at her smiling face, waiting for an explanation. “I’ll be giving you sheets that I’ll need to be signed by your parents to prove every week that you’re putting the time in together, as well as a guide to writing the speech. But, really boys, I can’t imagine why you would have to stay in the school.”

Ms Dahlman seemed to be about fifty, possibly older. Dream had no idea how she had navigated the world so far. It seemed she never even paused her monologues to breathe.

She gave the sheets to both Dream and George, and then she just left. She walked out the door and into her car without a glance back. The boys were left stunned in her wake.

Dream looked at George. George looked at Dream. Neither said anything, neither knew what to say.

Before Dream could start the inevitable conversation, George had taken out his phone. Self-obsessed as ever. Dream commented, emboldened by his evident social superiority,

“Well, that’s a bit rude-” Before he could finish, George had interrupted.

“Can you drive?” George hadn’t even spared him a glance. So rude . Dream couldn’t say he was surprised. Dream rolled his eyes. George didn’t seem to notice.

“No. What does that have to do with anything?” Dream didn’t try to stop the animosity from seeping into his voice. George didn’t seem to notice.

“Well I can’t drive either, I got the bus here. And we can’t just stay in here, it smells bad.” Dream didn’t want to admit it, but George was right. It did smell bad.

Dream started to speak. At the same time, George looked up from his phone. They both spoke at the same time, the same idea.

“I’m texting Sapnap.”

“Maybe Sapnap can-”

Dream laughed nervously. George didn’t laugh back. Sapnap was collecting them within ten minutes, a bag of shopping in the back.

Before long, they were sitting together on Sapnap’s couch, alone. Sapnap had left the room to make some food for them. Dream would’ve been happy to sit in silence until Sapnap came back with the snacks, but George wasn’t on the same wavelength.

“So, um, how are you?” George’s voice trailed off as he spoke. It felt like he wanted to be there even less than Dream.

“Good. Fine.” Dream was curt. He hadn’t expected George to make conversation, and he wasn’t going to try and encourage it. George could go back to texting on his phone forever for all Dream cared.

“Good.” George was returning his energy. His friendly conversationalist charade hadn’t lasted very long. Dream tried to settle back into the silence between them.

It didn’t stay like that for long. By the time Sapnap was back, he was entering to hear George yelling.

“Seven billion people in the world and I get stuck doing this with you! Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house.” He was standing on one side of the couch, Dream on the other. Anytime Dream moved, George moved the opposite way.

“Fuck you, George!”

Sapnap just wanted to get everyone some snacks.

He made them recount the argument, word for word, starting with George tapping his fingers ‘too loud’ on the arm of the couch.

Before long, Sapnap was telling them both off. He couldn’t say he was shocked that he had to explain that George telling Dream “I can say with utmost certainty, that you are definitely, A Bitch.” was not working cooperatively.

Dream was just as bad. But he did at least look remorseful while recounting his shout of “Every time you open your mouth I want to push you over the edge of a cliff and I mean that with all my heart.”

In the end, Sapnap made them sit in silence at opposite ends of the couch. Dream tried to feel guilty, he really did, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret squabbling with George, or chasing him around the couch. He was just so awful . Someone needed to knock him down a peg. And it’s not like he couldn’t take it, he was coming back just as hard as Dream. Maybe even harder.

Dream didn’t feel guilty for fighting with George, but he did feel guilty for getting Sapnap tangled up in the middle of it all. Dream could tell he hated the tension he and George had created.

Dream glanced towards George, checking to see if he looked as guilty as Dream felt, only to be met with George’s eyes staring at him. Weirdo. George nodded his head towards Sapnap, then between him and Dream. Dream didn’t want to admit it, but he understood.

George was saying ‘Look what we did.’ He was saying ‘Come on, we’ve to fix this.’

As much as it hurt him, Dream knew George was right. He looked up at him. George was mouthing something. Dream looked at his lips.

He was saying ‘Fuck you.’

Dream couldn’t hold in his laugh, isolated and muffled. Luckily, it was covered up by George’s exaggerated apology.

“Dream, I’m sorry for annoying you on purpose, and then for saying mean things to you.” Dream nearly had to physically restrain himself from jumping up and down, yelling ‘I told you so!’ He had known George was annoying him on purpose. Instead, he announced his apology as a reply.

“That’s okay George. I am sorry for chasing you around the couch and also for saying mean things to you.” He stopped himself from adding the ‘I am also sorry that you are a little bitch.’ He was too mature.

Instead of a relieved laugh, Sapnap’s brow furrowed. Dream could almost hear his mind moving at a mile a minute. George must have noticed it too. They both left it, but Sapnap wasn’t saying anything. And Dream had never considered patience his strongest virtue.

“Just say it Sapnap.” Dream and George were both looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” Sapnap looked shocked that they had noticed his internal conflict.

“He’s right, whatever you’re thinking. Just say it. I can practically hear you thinking.” George agreed with Dream. It was a day full of firsts.

“Do you guys actually hate each other? Like, there’s no reason to. Or, do you just enjoy the feeling of having someone to hate? I don’t get it.”

Dream didn’t know what to say. They had never talked about it so openly, him and George. It was an unspoken truth, so obvious it didn’t need to be acknowledged.

Montague versus Capulet, Taylor versus Katie, Dream versus George.

George and Dream just stared at each other, frozen. Sapnap moved on before either of them answered.

“You know what, nevermind. It doesn’t even matter.”

The silence made Dream feel guilty, looking at Sapnap made him feel worse. He was holding himself with annoyance, rare but visible. Before Dream could try and apologise, George was changing the subject. If he was someone else, Dream would've been thankful. But he was not anyone else, so Dream thought it was rude.

“So, where is everyone? The house is empty.” George was right. Both of Sapnap’s parents were out, a rare occurrence. The house was quiet, and the noise was obviously missing. There was no smell of cooking, no top of the pops radio. Dream hardened at the thought of George realising there was something wrong in Sapnap’s house before he could. He wasn’t surprised, it was just like George to make sure he mentioned it before Dream got a chance.

Dream scoffed. George didn’t notice, and if he did he didn’t turn around.

“Oh,” Sapnap’s eyes widened, shocked at the observation. Dream made a mental note to pay more attention to how Sapnap was doing. “My dad, he’s- he’s out of town.” Sapnap didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he did his best to help George and Dream.

They tried to work, they really did, but it was hard. The main task was to listen and learn from each other, but Dream would have rather died than learn anything from George, and the sentiment was clearly reciprocated. It had gotten to the point where neither of them were even saying anything, just looking at Sapnap waiting for instruction.

Sapnap, bless him, he tried his best. But one thing Dream and George could agree on was that it was easy to say no to Sapnap’s ideas.

“Why don’t you bond over your childhoods or something?” Sapnap threw out his fifth idea in ten minutes. Dream and George glanced to each other before replying.

“That’s dumb.”

“Ew, no Sapnap.”

Sapnap rolled his eyes

“Okay, fine. Whatever, you guys have fun.” He took his laptop from the coffee table and put in his headphones, ignoring Dream and George’s shouts of protest.

“No, Sapnap come on! Give us another idea!” Dream whined. Sapnap shook his head, trying to hide a smile.

“Sorry guys, but I do actually have my own work to do.”

Without Sapnap, things went off track quickly. George and Dream were sitting on opposite sides of Sapnap. George was cross-legged on the floor, messing with a piece of paper. Dream was draped across the armchair, head tilting back up to the ceiling. He was tossing up and down a soccer ball.

George and Dream were thinking out loud, having long abandoned brainstorming for their speeches. It was easy to ignore it when they had an infinite two months stretching out in front of them.

“Why did you fight so hard for it to be weekends?” Dream threw the question out into the air, hardly thinking about George’s reply.

“Well, I have shit to do after school.” Dream could not imagine a single thing that George might have to do after school. “Plus, I knew you have soccer training after school. I figured the team couldn’t function without their captain.” George said it sarcastically, but he couldn’t mask the truth in the statement. George knew when Dream had soccer, even if it was probably just because of Sapnap. And he had accommodated him when negotiating their punishment.

George had done something nice for Dream, without even telling him. He had just done it, quiet and personal.

Dream didn’t know how to digest this new information.

He was so preoccupied with the idea of George being in any way considerate, he didn’t notice him picking up a new sheet of paper, tearing off a corner and rolling it up into a ball. Before Dream could glance in his direction, the paper ball had hit him on the nose.

“Hey!” Dream’s head snapped towards George. He had the audacity to smile.

“Oops,” George deadpanned. Dream was whining for Sapnap within the second.

“It wasn’t an accident! It wasn’t and you know it! Sapnap, Sapnap! Tell him!” Sapnap just rolled his eyes. Dream glared at George.

“Try that again. Try it, I dare you.” Dream tried his best to sound tough. He was big, he was intimidating. He was the captain of the state champion soccer team. George couldn’t do shit to him.

George threw another piece of paper.

“Sapnap! He did that on purpose!” Dream whined. He didn’t realise how similar to an eight-year-old he sounded until the words had already left his mouth. Sapnap didn’t even look up from his laptop. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

Dream picked back up his soccer ball from his chest, a plan forming. Before he could even raise his hand, George was talking.

“Throw it, throw it and see what happens to you.” Dream gaped at George, he hadn’t even been looking at him. How did he know the soccer ball was coming? Just then, George did look. His eyes shot up from the paper crane he was making to meet Dream’s.

George’s eyes pierced him, frosty and chilling. Dream didn’t think he had ever looked into someone’s eyes the way he was doing just then. He felt like he could read George’s mind. It was saying ‘ Don’t you fucking dare’. Dream put back down the soccer ball slowly. The second George looked away, he threw it.

As the hours went by, George’s mask of indifference, his icy remarks and snarky comments, they faded away. A different George was filling his place. Still snarky, still acting as if he was just a little bit better than Dream, but different. He was excitable, quicker to smile.

George wasn’t as bad as Dream thought he was. Sure, he was a little bit rude. And he was definitely pretentious. He wasn’t as arrogant as Dream had thought he would be. And, even if it pained him to say it, he was funny.

All these things combined, he wasn’t the worst person to spend time with. No one noticed that the two mandatory hours had passed. They just stayed on Sapnap’s sitting room floor together, talking. George wasn’t a bad listener.

Dream was telling the story of his awful Monday morning, the first day of senior year. He was a good storyteller, he prided himself on that. Even Sapnap had taken off his headphones to listen. He had just gotten to the part of the story where he had to sit next to Weird Sarah. The smile George had been wearing was slipping slowly as he told him the woeful tail of having to sit next to her. George interrupted for the first time in hours.

“Hey, don’t be mean.” George was looking serious, an expression he hadn’t worn in hours. Dream didn’t understand why.

“Sarah’s actually a childhood friend. She’s really nice when you get to know her.”

Dream understood why. He felt like an idiot.

“Oh, shit, shit. Sorry, I didn’t realise. Shit. I’m sorry.” He tried his best to sound sincere, a stained sort of guilt overcoming him. George’s face didn’t change.

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I just forgot who you were for a second there.”

Dream felt like shit. Sarah hadn’t even done anything to him. But something in his mind was whispering to him. It wasn’t his fault if George was friends with her. Maybe they were both weird. This was classic George, trying to make him feel bad no matter what he did. Dream tried to push it away, but it was there. Lying underneath his brain, polluting his thoughts.

George, the George that Dream had come to know in that evening at Sapnap’s house, was suddenly gone. He stayed another half-hour, but it wasn’t the same. They focused on the work, writing about speech structures and other things Dream couldn’t have cared less about. And then George was gone, collected from the footpath outside Sapnap’s quiet house by his mother.

Dream and Sapnap were left alone in his sitting room. Dream wanted to sink into the floor and never get up again.

“Well That wasn’t, that wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Sapnap tried his best, but he didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

“It was bad.” Dream groaned, getting down to lie on the carpeted floor.

“Well, don’t undersell it. It wasn’t all bad.” Sapnap prodded him gently in the side with his foot. Dream squirmed.

“It was all bad.” Mixed with the embarrassment, there was a bitter kind of regret. Dream had ruined something good, something new. Before he could sink too far down his hole of sorrow, Sapnap was there.

“You should text him, to like apologise or something.” Sapnap had stood up to clean the sitting room, bring their plates into the kitchen. The conversation was over. Dream heaved himself off the floor, despite the weight of his self-pity.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah.”

It was later that night when Dream got the chance to text George. It was easier to send difficult texts from the safety of his blanket.

Dream

(10:14 pm) hey, its dream. Im sorry for talking shit about sarah.

(10:15 pm) It was mean and wasnt fair i feel really bad about it

Dream hadn’t realised just how much he actually wanted George’s forgiveness until he saw the three dots next to George’s name.

Gogy<3

(10:16 pm) its cool. dont do it again though it was a dick move

Dream

(10:16 pm) yeah i know :(

Gogy<3

(10:17 pm) also for future reference i never read texts. Message me on sc if you need me its georgenotfound

At 10:18 pm, George got a notification.

Dreamwastaken has added you as a friend.

[highladyluck]

Wheel of Time Playlist

Mat Cauthon/Tuon Paendrag: The Soundtrack

Direct link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1LWolFwiwWQtcnQV7zceMj

30 songs, 1 hr 43 min. This is my take on the canonical arc of Mat Cauthon and Tuon Paendrag's relationship, told largely through swing music and 80s power ballads, with a few surprises here and there.

I put a lot of time and thought into this so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! There are spoilers in the playlist and track listing for Winter's Heart through A Memory of Light, since this is meant to mirror the narrative. It's organized mostly chronologically, though a few songs cover multiple books, or reference scenes placed slightly out of order, to better alternate points of view.

The order will be preserved if you have a paid Spotify account. (I know that's not ideal; I tried for several hours to get this into 8tracks through a series of increasingly convoluted methods but wasn't able to, as I don't directly own the music used.) If you can't listen to it in order, I've got the track listing under the cut so you can at least see what I was trying to do.

Track List:

1)      Royals (feat. Cory Gray) – Jake Coco, Corey Gray

“I’m no lord. I’ve more respect for myself than that.”

And we'll never be royals (royals)/

It don't run in our blood

2)      Almost There – Anika Noni Rose

Behind her veil, she was merely the High Lady Tuon, of no higher rank than many others of the Blood, but in her heart, always, she was Tuon Athaem Kore Paendrag, Daughter of the Nine Moons, and she had come to reclaim what had been stolen from her ancestor.

Ain't got time for messin' around/

And it's not my style

 3)      Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man – Sammy Hagar

“I’m a gambler, not a soldier. A lover.”

I ain't good looking, but you know I ain't shy/ Ain't afraid to look a girl in the eye

 4)      Primadonna – MARINA

 “She is my wife! Your bloody Daughter of the Nine Moons is my wife!”

Would you get down on your knees for me?/

Pop that pretty question, right now baby

 5)      Been Caught Stealing – Richard Cheese

And Mat and the others galloped out into the storm, carrying with them three Aes Sedai, two of them escaped damane, and the kidnapped heir to the Seanchan Crystal Throne, while behind them a far worse storm broke over Ebou Dar.

Walk right through the door/ Hey all right!/ If I get by, it's mine/ Mine all mine!

 6)      Luck Be A Lady – Frank Sinatra

“As soon as I can figure out how to send you home safe and sound, I will. I promise.”

[...]

“So long as you keep your promises, I will neither escape nor betray you in any way, nor will I cause dissension among your followers.”

Let’s keep this party polite/

Never get out of my sight/

Stick with me baby, I'm the guy that you came in with/

Luck be a lady tonight

 7)      Holding Out For A Hero – Bonnie Tyler

“Do you remember Hawkwing’s face, Toy?”

I'm holdin' out for a hero 'til the morning light/ He's gotta be sure/ And it's gotta be soon/ And he's gotta be larger than life

 8)      Play The Game – Queen

“I’ve changed my mind, Toy,” she murmured, placing the white stone carefully on the intersection of two lines near the center of the board. “You play very well.”

All you have to do is fall in love/

Play the game, everybody play the game/

Of love

 9)      Poker Face – Lady Gaga

Despite himself, Mat began to laugh. He threw his hat down on the floor and laughed. With everything, all his efforts, he did not know this woman at all! Not a bit! He laughed until his ribs hurt.

Can't read my, can't read my/ No, he can't read my poker face

 10)   Young Dumb And In Love – Mat Kearney

Her big eyes were dark pools a man could spend a lifetime swimming in. Her rare smiles could be mysterious or mischievous, and he prized them.

I'm talking much, and you don't make a sound/

The prettiest face and those rock-a-bye baby browns/

All I've waited for's come true/

To be young and dumb and in love

11)   Zebra – The Magnetic Fields

She was still beaming. Her big eyes shone. “She’s a very fine animal, Toy. A wonderful gift. Either you have a good eye, or you were very lucky.”

“I have a good eye, Precious,” he said warily. She seemed more delighted than even the razor called for.

so there's one thing I crave/ when my days become ho-hum and blah/ I want a zebra

 12)   Steppin’ Out With My Baby – Fred Astaire

He grinned at Tuon, who gave him a slight nod. He had missed this, dice in a common room or tavern, coin on the table, wondering how long his luck would hold. And a pretty woman at his side while he gambled. He wanted to laugh with pleasure.

Steppin' out with my honey/

Can't be bad to feel so good/

Never felt quite so sunny/

And I keep on knockin' wood

 13)   Mack the Knife – Louis Armstrong

Tuon nodded approvingly. The bloody woman was dying to see him get into a knife fight!

[...]

To him, the world consisted of his two knives and the men crowding each other to get at him, and his knives sought the places where men bleed most heavily. Some of those ancient memories came from men who had not been very nice at all.

You know when that shark bites

With his teeth, babe

Scarlet billows

Start to spread

Fancy gloves, though

Wears ol' Macheath, babe

So there's never, never a trace of red

 14)   Rescue Me – Fontella Bass

“If one army is out to kill you, then they probably all are, and there are too many soldiers between here and Ebou Dar. But don’t worry; I’ll find some way to get you back safely.”

[...]

His boot slid in a patch of blood, and as he staggered, he knew he was about to die.

Abruptly Tuon was there, left hand seizing the young woman’s wrist—not the wrist of the knife hand, worse luck—twisting so the arm went stiff and the girl was forced to double over.

Come on, baby, and rescue me/ 'Cause I need you by my side

 15)   Too Close For Comfort – Eydie Gormé

He bent his head to hers. She was far from the first woman he had kissed. He knew what he was about. Surprisingly—or then again, perhaps not so surprisingly—she did not know. She was a quick pupil though. Very quick.

Be wise, be smart, behave my heart,/ Don't upset your cart/ When he’s so close.

 16)   Fever – Michael Bublé

She laid fingers against his cheek. “I thought so,” she said in that slow honey drawl. “You’re feverish. Some of your wounds must be infected.”

[...]

Mat blinked. He gave her a kiss that had to have curled her toes, and all she said was that his face was hot?

When you put your arms around me/ I get a fever that's so hard to bear/ You give me fever when you kiss me/ Fever when you hold me tight

 17)   Burning Down The House – Tom Jones, The Cardigans

Karede felt as if Hartha had kicked him again. No, not Hartha. Aldazar. What madness was this? Cauthon looked like a man watching an arrow fly towards his face, knowing he had no chance to dodge.

“Bloody Matrim Cauthon is my husband. That is the wording you used, is it not?”

This had to be a fever-dream.

Watch out you might get what you're after/

Cool babies strange but not a stranger/

I'm an ordinary guy/

Burning down the house

 18)   Love Is A Battlefield – Pat Benatar

“The next time I see Seanchan, I expect it will be on the field somewhere, Tuon.” Burn him, it would be. His life seemed to run that way no matter what he did. “You’re not my enemy, but your Empire is.”

“Nor are you my enemy, husband,” she said coolly, “but I live to serve the Empire.”

Both of us knowing/ Love is a battlefield

 19)   Empire – Alpines

Tuon straightened her back. She had not thought to become Empress for many years yet. But she would do her duty.

[...]

Fortuona was empress.

 I'm building an empire/

I'm building with my body and soul/

I'm building an empire/

So little time and so much to do

 20)   Distant Stations – Andrew Bird

Stay well, you curious man, she thought, glancing back at the balcony, northward. Do not dig yourself into trouble deeper than you can climb to freedom. You are Prince of the Ravens now. Remember to act appropriately.

Wherever it is you are.

[...]

Thom finished by making a wavy line through the center, as one did at the start of any game of Snakes and Foxes.

[...]

Mat crouched beside a fern, unseen by the dozen or so Deathwatch Guards who stood in a ring around Tuon as she went through a series of fighting stances.

 It was a triangle/ With soft, round edges/ And a split down the middle of one corner

I waited for you/ But I never told you where I was/

I waited on the steps for you/ And I hid in the bushes whenever a car pulled into the parking lot

 21)   Black Coffee – Sarah Vaughan

I should very much like to have him back. She froze; she hadn’t meant to admit so much. She found her own emotions curious, however. She had felt safe with him, ridiculous though it seemed. And she wished he were with her now.

Black coffee/ Feelin' low as the ground/ It's drivin' me crazy/ This waitin' for my baby/ To maybe come around

 22)   Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps – Cake

“Love?” Tuon sounded surprised. “Perhaps we will come to love each other, Matrim, but I have always known I would marry to serve the Empire.”

[...]

“And do you love me?” he asked, forcing the words out.

 You won't admit you love me/

And so how am I ever to know?/

You only tell me/

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps

 23)   Best of You (with Elle King) – Andy Grammar, Elle King

“When you saw me,” Mat explained, “with a dagger in hand—as if to throw at you—you didn’t call for your guards. You didn’t fear I was here to kill you. You looked over your shoulder to see what I was aiming at. That’s the most loving gesture I think a man could receive from a woman. Unless you’d like to sit on my knee for a little while…”

 'Cause the best of me loves the best of you/

And all the rest, I can see right through/

You trust in me and I'll trust you too/

'Cause the best of me, loves the best of you

 24)   Dance Me to the End of Love – Leonard Cohen

“I’m not going to sit on your knee,” Tuon said, pulling one arm out of her robe, exposing her breasts, “though I may allow you to sit on mine.”

 Dance me to the wedding now, dance me on and on/ Dance me very tenderly and dance me very long/ We're both of us beneath our love, we're both of us above/ Dance me to the end of love

 25)   Roll the Dice – Annie Vincent

Order in one hand—something known, something she could measure—chaos in the other. Chaos in the form of a one-eyed man who knew Artur Hawkwing’s face.

Had she not just told Selucia she would bet upon him?

Roll the dice (C'mon)/ Take a chance with life, just roll the dice/ This will be your time, so roll the dice/ And nothing's gonna stop you now - no, no, woah

 26)   Short Skirt/Long Jacket – Cake

She was something incredible, though. He felt a thrill each time she gave orders; she did it so naturally.

 I want a girl with a mind like a diamond/ I want a girl who knows what's best

 27)   They All Fall Down – XY Unlimited

“A last stand,” Mat said softly. “All of us, together, at a one place where the terrain favors us.”

 One by one the soldiers stumble/

See them as they stand and tumble/

You're here with me

 28)   Let’s Call The Whole Thing Off – Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong

“I’ve had it with you,” Knotai said, waving a hand at her. “You and your bloody Seanchan rules just keep getting in the way.”

“Then I have had it with you as well,” she said, raising her head.

[...]

“I suppose you give me the opportunity… perhaps the mandate… to follow what my heart would choose, whether or not it is wise.” She stood. “General Galgan, gather your troops. We return to the Field of Merrilor.”

 For we know we need each other/ So we better call the calling off off/ Let's call the whole thing off!

 29)   Never Knew I Needed – Kathryn

“Well, I guess I’m off the hook, now. You have an heir.”

“I have an heir,” Tuon said, “but I am the one off that hook. Now I can kill you, if I want.”

Mat felt his grin widen. “Well, we’ll have to see what we can work out. Tell me, do you ever play dice?”

 You are the best thing I never knew I needed/ So now it's so clear, I need you here always

 30)   Twin Human Highway Flares – The Mountain Goats

All he had to do was convince Tuon to forsake her throne and run off with him.

  You turned to me and asked me if I'd always be your boy/

As we drove across the river into western Illinois/

And on the railroad bridge, half a mile of solid steel/

Wheels were spitting out sparks, scraping at the rails

[gone4neow]

MIGHTY | ⓅⒸⓎ

c h a p t e r t h r e e

- park chanyeol x oc

- mulan rewrite [very loosely inspired by the disney version]

- warnings : cursing, dark themes, extreme violence

- work count : 2,965

previous chapter or next chapter

——————————————————————————

By the time Eunyeong arrived at her destination, the sun was already peeking through the trees surrounding the village. A crowd of men stood in uniforms similar to the one hanging from her shoulders. Some wore small smiles on their faces, excited to go fight for their country. Others stood solemnly with their hands behind their backs as they looked off into the distance, seemingly standing in a different reality than the men next to them.

The woman felt her cheeks warm at the realization that she was one of the last to arrive. Being late to work at the farm was humiliating, but the embarrassment never burned her as it did now. Her hands tightened around the scroll she was holding. She ignored the way the men's eyes bore into her face and walked right by them. Though she had no idea what to expect, she was surprised when she didn't find the important-looking man who had been on the fancy horse yesterday. Instead, an older looking man stood among a few of the soldiers she had seen. His features had a softness to them that matched perfectly with his round facial structure. Eunyeong was sure this man was someone's grandfather.

His eyes analyzed her carefully as she bowed and silently extended the scroll in her hand towards him. Gently, he accepted the scroll and began to unravel it as she straightened herself back up. He read over it a few times, glancing between the words printed on the scroll and the assumed man in front of him. Then he quietly spoke her father's name. She knew he would recognize the name; everyone always recognized her father. 

"That's my father, sir," she explained in a tender voice that miraculously came out deeper than what it usually did. Perhaps the universe was finally on her side, prepared to help her get through this journey she had begun.

The shock on his face was impossible to miss. His eyes widened at her words. For a moment she wondered if he was rendered completely speechless, but then he began speaking again. "I wasn't aware that he had a son, only a daughter."

"Ah, most are unaware," Eunyeong started with a nervous smile. "I spent a lot of time out of the country with a distant relative of mine. I was training to become a doctor when I received word of a possible war. With my father's injury, I knew I couldn't take the chance of him being sent off to war so I returned home just in case."

The man let his eyes rake over features of Eunyeong's for a few seconds before quiet laughter began spilling from his mouth. The woman's heartbeat quickened, terrified that her true identity had already been figured out.

"It's a good thing your father has such a brilliant son then. You will do us well and make him proud," the man told her. Relieved, Eunyeong couldn't help but laugh nervously with the man.

"Thank you for the opportunity, sir," she told him. She bowed once more and then turned to accompany her fellow soldiers. For a moment she wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to the title. The men didn't suspect her, or if they did they did not show it. They chatted with her about things she had always heard men talk about on the farm, which was mostly work and their families. Fortunately, she did not recognize anyone she worked with. Unfortunately, she did recognize her uncle's son who had already sent her a few curious glances. If he realized who she was then would he reveal her true identity? Or would he help her keep up her new identity?

After listening to a short speech from the older man about what a remarkable chapter the group of men was entering, it was time to leave to meet up with the rest of the soldiers. Eunyeong took in the sight of her village one last time before she turned her head towards the grown and followed the group. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her parents, who were without a doubt aware of what she was doing by now. She tried to not imagine her father's expression when he realized what his daughter had done. Her chest filled with sadness as she hoped her mother would miss having her around. A part of her thought maybe her actions were selfish; she was sacrificing herself without even considering the pain and worry her parents would go through after all. She would miss her home. She would even miss seeing everyone that she had grown used to having around, even if most of them crucified her.

Growing up she had gone on many walks through the forest, but those had never been as long as the walk from her village to the temporary militia base was. When they arrived, there were men all over the place. Eunyeong watched as they put up tents, creating a small makeshift village of their own. As nervous as she was, it was hard to ignore the small bubble of excitement rising in her chest. The prospect of getting to work collectively with a group of people without having everyone judge her for being a woman was thrilling.

The man next to her nudged her arm suddenly. When she glanced up, she saw a wide grin on his face. Though she wasn't sure why he was grinning, she couldn't be upset about it because she found herself enjoying the sight. His skin glowed under the sun's rays as the corners of his lips curled. As if wanting her to stare, he waited a few seconds before he glanced back down at her.

"You looked excited. I couldn't help myself from grinning when I saw how wide your eyes were," he confessed. She didn't find it as humorous as the man, yet she still felt her cheeks lift. Yet another nervous laugh slipped past her lips.

The man remained by her side for majority of the day. She learned his name was Baekhyun. Like her, he had come in the place of his father. She was thankful for his company for more than just aesthetic reasoning. He was a genuine man who laughed when he saw her struggling, but never took more than a few seconds to immediately show her how to properly manage her tasks. Before the sun had even started to set he had shown her how to set up her tent as well as how to handle the bow and arrow. The bow lesson was short as Baekhyun grew frustrated when he couldn't shoot the arrow in a straight line. His cheeks had grown a bright shade of pink as he muttered curses under his breath.

"How are you so calm?" Baekhyun asked her later when they were sitting outside of her tent with their dinner resting in their hands. Eunyeong's fingers curled tightly around the small, wooden bowl at the question. She wasn't entirely sure how to answer that, so as she finished swallowing her bite of rice she shrugged. To this, the man simply hummed.

"To be honest, I was really nervous about coming here. Where I come from we don't have to worry about survival too much, so I'm not used to wondering when my last day will be," the man spoke softly as he looked out at the crowd of men eating around their tents. "Last night I realized that I could die at any time out here. I still haven't been able to come to terms with that. I don't want to die."

Eunyeong realized the man who had spent the day laughing and cracking jokes was more frightened than she would have ever guessed. All it took was a cup of rice to get him to pour his heart out to her. He must have been holding it in all day, she thought.

"Life is guaranteed for anyone. Even those housed at the palace could die at any time," the woman told him in response.

"Wouldn't it be nice if we could cheat destiny?" The man wondered aloud.

Eunyeong contemplated his question with a frown on her face. Did she cheat destiny by coming instead of her father? What would happen as a consequence? Baekhyun looked at her with concern as the color in her face suddenly began to vanish.

"Hey," he called out to her. When she didn't acknowledge him he did it once more. She finally looked up and met his eyes. When he questioned if she was alright, she felt her stomach twist. Was she?

"I'm fine," she breathed out. "I just got a bit homesick."

The man made a noise as if he understood completely. She watched as he finished his last bite of rice before she hesitantly offered him the rest of hers. A small smile formed on her face at his shocked expression. He accepted the bowl graciously and quickly went to finishing it off.

Later that night, Eunyeong was alone in her tent. She could hear the sound of crickets outside. Between the sound of the restless insects and the hot air, it was hard to escape the summer season. The rest of the camp was silent despite the moon not even being in the center of the sky yet. She wondered if anyone else was having trouble sleeping. No matter how many times she tossed and turned, the anxiety she felt kept her from drifting off. Worries about her parents plagued her mind. She tried not to picture her parents all alone at home worrying about her. The guilt eating away at her was a good indicator of how successful she was at doing that.

Her heartbeat quickened when she heard footsteps near her tent. Her racing thoughts came to a halt as she listened closely to the sound. Though they were faint, she could make out the sound of whispering. Who would possibly be out after everyone had retired to bed for the night? Was someone attempting to run?

"I don't think you understand how important this is to me," she heard a husky voice growl out into the summer air.

"Of course I do," a voice even deeper than the first replied. "That doesn't mean I'm not allowed to have concerns. We need to think about this with clear heads."

There was a snicker almost immediately after the man finished speaking. Then the first man spoke again. "If you lack confidence in me so severely perhaps we should give you my position."

"I don't want your position. I want you to think about this again, tomorrow when you haven't been drinking. This isn't a game," the second man hissed. There was a moment of silence after this. Eunyeong could feel the tension in the air and was thankful she wasn't able to witness the lethal scowls the men must've been exchanging.

"I'll think about it again, but you need to lay off. You're my second hand - not my babysitter. Know your place," the first man finally spoke again.

"I assure you, my intentions are not to babysit you. I have numerous other responsibilities here aside from aiding you," the second man snapped. Then, laughter filled the air. It was deep and rumbled like thunder. The sound caused goosebumps to crawl up Eunyeong's arms.

"Come. I don't like when we fight. Let's have a cup of tea before sleeping," the first man said. Within just a few seconds they were already moving on. The woman listened as their footsteps grew further and further away before she turned over again. Her makeshift bed was uncomfortable and already she wanted nothing more than to go home, but after a few seconds of thinking about her father being in her position, she found herself feeling easier about the situation. Though she still felt discomfort, the surface beneath her suddenly felt a lot softer and the anxiety in her chest lessened a bit. If enduring these things meant her father would continue to live to see another day, she'd endure them for the rest of her life with no complaints.

Eunyeong was woken up due to the sound of a banging noise echoing through the camp. She wasn't sure what it was, but she knew she preferred the roosters back at home far more. She scrambled to quickly get ready. Though her hair wouldn't be perfect, she made sure to conceal her breasts neatly underneath her uniform. Fortunately, she wasn't the last one out of her tent. All around her were men emerging from their tents, some not even bothering to completely throw on their shirts. It was a sign of disrespect in her eyes and she couldn't help but scowl at the sight.

She found Baekhyun - well, he found her. They had accidentally bumped into one another before sharing a short laugh. Their fun was interrupted by the sound of a harsh whistle. Immediately, men filed into a line and those who weren't familiar with the practice scrambled to join in. Eunyeong knew her cheeks must've been flaming red from embarrassment as she stepped in line next to Baekhyun. Even though the man wasn't the tallest, he was still quite a few inches taller than she was and the man on her right was even taller. She felt small, but she lifted her chin and mimicked the posture of those across from her.

"Very good," a familiar voice called from down the line. The woman's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to pinpoint where she had heard the voice before. Whoever it belonged to was walking between the two rows of soldiers in a confident stride. She could make out his figure approaching from the corner of her eyes, but she didn't dare move to get a better look. He paused every now and then, most likely analyzing any newcomers he didn't recognize right off. Then, he reach her.

Right away she noticed that he was tall. Though curiosity ate away at her, she didn't dare let her eyes flicker up to scan his face. Instead, she focused on his bare chest and prayed that her cheeks did not expose the impure thoughts running through her mind. Whoever this man was it was obvious that he had spent a long time working on his physique. Either that or the gods had favored him more than most.

He was unmoving and because of this, her heartbeat quickened. If this man was of importance then she wanted to avoid capturing his attention as much she possibly could. Was he already on to her? Were her facial features too feminine for him to believe she was truly a man?

After a few seconds dragged by, the man snickered. Instantly she recognized it. It no doubt belonged to one of the men she had overheard talking last night. This worsened her curiosity, but still, she refused to look up even a centimeter.

"You are the tiniest man I have ever seen," the man commented with humor in his voice. "I am curious to see how you perform."

A few laughs filled the air at the man's comments. Eunyeong felt more offended than she did embarrassed. What did her size matter? Without another word, the man turned and continued making his way down the line. The woman felt almost relieved that he was gone, but a part of her wanted to challenge him. He must feel like a big man since he's so tall, she thought.

"I see a lot of new faces here today and, while I am glad our numbers have grown, I am filled with distaste at this lot's mannerisms," the man spoke from down the line. His voice moved Eunyeong just like his laugh had. Every little rasp sent a jolt down her spine. Was she intimidated by it? She frowned. There was very little that she was intimidated by. It couldn't be that, could it?

While she was racking her brain for an explanation, the man continued to speak. "Let's begin with the little things. Your posture is terrible. You know what that tells me? You're not motivated to be here - you're not ready to fight."

The man began to walk back up the line, his eyes glancing over each face as he went. His walk was full of confidence as if he knew every word coming out of his mouth was nothing but the truth and would go without challenge. If he hadn't frustrated her so deeply, Eunyeong might've admired his confidence. Perhaps she may have even envied it.

"Some of you seem to have no fire in your eyes. No life at all, for that matter," the man spoke as he walked before coming to a pause in the middle of the line. This time she couldn't control herself. Her eyes met his just as he opened his mouth to speak once more and she instantly stiffened her shoulders, preparing herself for whatever insult he had conjured up this time.

"And to those of you with lifeless eyes, I recommend you look upon your neighbors - those in which have a fierceness glowing in their eyes that screams they're ready for whatever comes their way."

He instantly looked away, turned on his heels, and walked back up the line again. He waved his arm in the air as he commanded the men to take a short break before they began their training for the day. Baekhyun wasted no time slouching his shoulders and releasing a deep breath as if he had been underwater for several minutes.

"That was intense wasn't it?" He questioned. Eunyeong found his eyes and laughed lightly.

"It's just the beginning. We'll face worse," she reminded him.

——————————————————————————

a / n : chanyeol has arrived!! hopefully that makes up for the lateness of this post, but at least it’s still going up on a monday. i’ve been busy with zoom meetings and such today. hope everyone enjoys this chapter. xx

[storiesnobodyreads]

Wisdom Teeth

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

A/N: hiya thank you for the request!! i do them but it usually takes like a year before i finish them. i really liked this and good luck with your wisdom teeth!! mine are getting removed in a couple of months so let me know what it was like hahah

“Steve, you are the cutest cutie pie with your cute star-spangled suit and you just have the cutest eyes and, and Steve!” you squealed, pulling his hand so that he’d come closer. Whispering, as if it were a secret, you said: “You also have the cutest ass.”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, a wide grin on his face. “Do I now?”

You nodded intensely. “You absolutely do. America’s ass.”

“Why thank you,” Steve smirked. “So how are you feeling, doll?”

An hour ago, your wisdom teeth had been removed. You’d been worried out of your mind, having heard all the horror stories from your friends. Steve had tried to convince you it wasn’t that bad, but Sam had promised you: “It’ll make you wonder if there’s a way you can just entirely remove your mouth from your face.” However, the jaw surgeon had put you under a general anaesthesia had you’d been safely knocked out during the entire operation, not feeling a single worry. When you finally woke up, Steve was by your side and sedation was still heavily doing its work. Your jaw had dropped and you didn’t feel it when you pressed your fingers into your own flesh.

“How do I look?” you’d asked Steve while dramatically flipping your hair back. Your mind felt clouded and you were blurting out any thought that crossed your mind. Talking was weird now that you could only use half the muscles in your mouth, one cheek getting swollen and feeling numb.

Steve had tilted his head, studying you as he played unconsciously with your fingers. “A little bit like a chipmunk, actually.”

You had laughed. “Good. I like chipmunks.”

Steve was allowed to drive you home, getting a package of ibuprofen and an icepack pressed into his hands under instructions to take care of you. Steve had smiled at the surgeon. “Thanks for everything. And sure. I’ll always take care of her.”

Now, the two of you were sitting in one of Tony’s tesla’s, since Steve only owned a motorbike. Steve was driving, cheerful music playing on the radio, and you were throwing yourself at the handsome man. “Kiss me?” you offered.

“I’m driving, doll!” Steve laughed, gently pushing you back into your seat. He quickly picked up the ice pack and handed it back to you. “Keep that ice pack on your jaw, will you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Captain.” You pressed the ice pack against your cheek, pouting for as far as you could. “Why don’t you want to kiss me?”

Steve eyed you sideways, a constant smile plastered on his face. He was having the time of his life with you spitting truths. “I do want to kiss you,” he explained patiently. “But if I could kiss you and drive at the same time, I wouldn’t be giving the kiss the attention it deserves.”

“Hmm, that’s sweet,” you could feel your eyes falling shut, the numbing sensation in your jaw becoming slightly painful. “I don’t feel so good.”

“No? You want ice cream, doll? The doctor said you could eat soft foods.”

“Ya,” you brought out, letting your head dangle between your knees.

“Okay, let’s go get ice cream. And then you’ll feel much better, eh?”

Steve steered right around a corner, making your head bump into the door of the car. “Ow, I broke my bone,” you whined.

“You broke your bone?” Steve snorted. He softly combed his fingers through your hair, petting you supportively. “You don’t complain when you get beaten up by Hydra soldiers but now you broke your bone?”

You heaved yourself back into your seat, leaning your head to the side to ogle at Steve. “I’m good,” you hummed, throwing your feet up the dashboard. On a sing-songy voice, you lulled, “Look at my feet, my feet are so prettyyy!”

Even though Tony usually had strict rules against putting feet up the dashboard, which Steve obeyed since he didn’t want to lose his borrow-the-tesla credits, he was still grinning and looking at you lovingly. “Your feet are very pretty!”

Part of you was aware that you were all over the place, but it felt surprisingly liberating to let go of all concerns and simply speak your mind. “Steve, I love you,” you smiled up at him, which must have been an odd, lopsided smile. Words slurring, you continued, “I love you more than anything! You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“We should do this more often,” Steve decided with a laugh. “You’re always my ray of sunshine, but now you’re just a ball of positivity and compliments. Well, doll, I love you, too. Very much.”

“How much?” you asked.

“To the moon and back.”

“Psht.” You scoffed like that was nothing, and then spread your arms. “Steve, I love you this much!”

“Damn,” Steve acted impressed, hand over his heart. He pulled over at the side of the road, having spotted a restaurant where they sold soft ice cream. “You wanna come with or stay in the car?”

But you had suddenly discovered how to get the chair to lie back down and transform into a bed, and were squealing as you moved back, the car quietly whirring. “I’m taking a nap,” you informed Steve matter-of-factly.

“Okay,” Steve smirked. “I’ll be right back.”

“Crack me a window!”

Steve cracked you a window and jogged over to the restaurant, quickly ordering a cup of soft ice cream, unable to remove that smile from his face. He knew that the effects of the narcotics wouldn’t last much longer and would soon be replaced by pain, but he was enjoying the drugged part a lot more than he had expected. He got his ice without being recognised as Captain America, which allowed him to return to the car as fast as possible. Glancing into Tony’s tesla, he found you vast asleep.

He thudded down in the driver’s seat, placing the ice cream temporarily on the dashboard. “Hey, Y/N,” he whispered. “If you love me and think my ass is cute, don’t say anything.” You stayed silent, Steve smiled. “That’s what I thought, baby.” Steve proceeded to start up the car and drove you home, continuously checking whether you were still breathing and watching lightly disappointed as the ice cream transformed into a puddle in its cup. 

When the two of you arrived at the Stark Tower, Steve sighed when you were still heavily asleep. He parked the car and walked around the tesla to lift you up from your seat, carrying you bridal style. 

Bucky burst out laughing when Steve walked into the kitchen of the Stark Tower with you sleeping in his arms. “How’s our badass doing?” Bucky asked, getting up to study your swollen face. 

“Her famous last words were: these drugs aren’t going to have an effect on me, I’m an Avenger.” 

“That sound about right.” Bucky thudded on the couch. Steve let himself fall down as well, with you lying down and your legs over his lap. He lifted the icepack and pressed it against your cheek, hoping to reduce some of the swelling. “Did she tell you that you have a cute ass?”

Steve looked up at his friend, laughing. “How did you know that?”

Bucky shrugged. “She talks about that behind your back. Saying that she gets to date America’s ass and that makes her the luckiest girl alive.” 

“That’s amazing,” Steve laughed loudly, not realising that he laughed with his full body, belly shaking, thereby shaking and waking you up. 

You softly complained, “Stee-heeve.” 

“Aw, sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Steve moved up to press a kiss on top of your nose. “How you feelin’?” 

You groaned. “It hurts. Did you... Did you get the ice cream?” 

“Well, if this molten vanilla drink still counts as ice cream, then yes.” 

Bucky got up. “There’s ice cream in the fridge. I’ll get it.” When Bucky returned with a bucket of vanilla ice cream and a spoon, Steve started feeding you because you claimed you couldn’t lift your head and felt bad. Steve was constantly laughing and joking around, but he didn’t hesitate to do everything you asked to take care of you. 

“You okay, doll?” Steve wondered when you closed your eyes after having eaten probably too much ice cream. 

You nodded slowly, a content smile spreading across your face. “I can’t believe you’re taking care of me. You’re just... the best man ever. I love you so much.” 

Steve brought your hand to his lips and lovingly kissed your knuckles. “I love you too.” 

The moment was great. You had been nervous to get your wisdom teeth pulled out, had been concerned about the operation and the pain and the drugs, but with Steve taking care of you, really everything was okay. 

In the end, it was Bucky who interrupted the moment, mockingly rolling his eyes. He’d been listening to the two of you sweet-talking to each other for a while now. He sighed, “You guys are disgusting.” 

@bookgirlunicorn​ // @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ // @followyourbucky​ // @supernatural-strangerthings-1980​ // @gaybroadwayloser​ // @fuckthatfeeling​ // @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ // @daughterofthenight117​ // @tristfulsighs​ // @thehyperactiveteen​

[etjwrites]

Here it is, the official ⚡️THORUNN⚡️ Spotify playlist, all 85 mins of it!

I listened to these songs quite a bit while drafting, revising, and putting the finishing touches on my novel, and it's carefully curated (if listening from the desktop, or premium on the app) to give y'all the perfect ⚡️THORUNN⚡️ listening experience. A good bit of these songs could apply to either Laine or Kenton, (though some are specific to each – kudos to you if you can accurately guess which!) but some also center around other characters – both friend and foe – and around themes from the novel: family, loss, forgiveness, hope.

The playlist starts off rather melancholy (given what happens to Kenton's family in the beginning of the book), and bounces back and forth between anger and grief – with some encouragement slipped in between here and there – before leading to a defiant, hopeful ending. I've included some relevant lyrics from each song (most under a cut, since there are 22 songs on this playlist) and there's a mix of styles and genres from a wide variety of artists, though it does trend in the alt/rock direction. Music from the 70's all the way to recent years has made the list, and there's even a South African song gracing this collection!

⚡️THORUNN⚡️ was released May 20, 2020, everywhere books are sold, and I would be utterly delighted if y'all gave this playlist a listen while reading. It'll definitely enhance your experience, and give you a peek into my state of mind while writing.

1. Fix You – Coldplay

When you try your best but you don't succeed When you feel so tired but you can't sleep Stuck in reverse

2. Umama – Sjava  

English Translation:

I miss my mom I am unable to go on I cannot continue I miss my mom

3. O-oh Child – The Five Stairsteps

Ooh child Things are gonna get easier Some day, yeah

4. Wolves – Down Like Silver

When I die let the wolves enjoy my bones When I die set me free When I die throw my ashes to the breeze When I die scatter me

5. Drifting – Adelitas Way

Maybe I'm drifting, maybe I'm lost Maybe I found every line I'd cross Some of us we haven't had a dream Drifting just like me

6. Gone Away –  Five Finger Death Punch

Maybe in another life I could find you there Pulled away before your time The world has grown cold Now that you've gone away

7. Nothing Makes Sense Anymore – Mike Shinoda

My inside's out, my left is right My upside's down, my black is white I hold my breath, and close my eyes And wait for dawn, but there's no light

8. Faint – Linkin Park

Time won't heal this damage anymore Don't turn your back on me I won't be ignored

9. Talking to the moon – Bruno Mars

At night when the stars Light up my room I sit by myself Talking to the moon Tryin' to get to you

10. Still Here – Digital Daggers

Musing through memories Losing my grip in the grey I'd die to be where you are I tried to be where you are Every night I dream you're still here When I awake, you'll disappear

11. Speak to Me – Amy Lee

Be still, my love I will return to you However far you feel from me You are not alone

12. Running From My Shadow – Mike Shinoda

I'm running from my shadow but it's still there chasing me down I'll never win the battle I should have known it by now Just when I think I've found the end, I'm going back around again, Running from my shadow but it's still there chasing me down

13. Somewhere I Belong – Linkin Park

I want to heal, I want to feel, What I thought was never real I want to let go of the pain I felt so long I want to find something I've wanted all along Somewhere I belong

14. Waiting for the End – Linkin Park

Waiting for the end to come Wishing I had strength to stand This is not what I had planned It's out of my control All I wanna do is trade this life for something new Holding on to what I haven't got

15. Legends Never Die – League of Legends

When everything's lost, they pick up their hearts and avenge defeat Before it all starts, they suffer through harm just to touch a dream

16. Paint it, Black – Ciara

I see a red door and I want it painted black No colors anymore, I want them to turn black I see the girls walk by dressed in their summer clothes I have to turn my head until my darkness goes

17. Robot Boy – Linkin Park

So you say you're not gonna fight 'Cause no one will fight for you Just hold, on the weight of the world Will give you the strength to go

18. Dear Agony – Breaking Ben

Dear agony Just let go of me Suffer slowly Is this the way it's got to be?

19. Soldier – Fleurie

Soldier keep on marchin' on Head down 'til the work is done

20. Gallows – Katie Garfield

Tell them something is coming There's blood in the water Give them a warning Let it all come crashing down

21. Here I am – Tommee Profitt

You can run but you can’t hide Out of the ashes I rise Here I am

22. Love Hurts – Incubus

Love hurts But sometimes it's a good hurt And it feels like I'm alive Love sings When it transcends the bad things

Can you tell I'm a Linkin Park fan?😉

Taglist:

@elaynab-writing @musicofglassandwords @sheabutterskyes @igotablankpage @writeanapocalae @alcego-writes @canallynwrite @fordewrites @valdifarniente @warofmywords

[elopez7228]

Scenic route 23/47

Read on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/18268208/chapters/43229774 

Start over : https://elopez7228.tumblr.com/post/620919089893933056/scenic-route-0147

***

Perched on the sidewalk with his elbows on his knees, Ben Solo lit a cigarette.

With his other hand he scrolled through his phone, reading and re-reading Rey's last messages.

He knew exactly where she was and what she was doing: Syed was sending him a brief every hour. Yesterday she had visited the southern reaches of Yellowstone, today she was up north. Syed had even mentioned something about bathing in the river.

He had hoped for a picture that never came. Imagine his reaction if he ever saw Rey in a swimsuit—of course, that would go beyond the strict definition of surveillance—he’d be flirting with the boundaries of stalking. And he had taken enough liberties with his initial mission to know not to venture there.

Was she going to text him?

He had ended their conversation last night...was it pathetic of him to contact her first?

She said she wasn’t ready for a fling and instead wanted to get to know him better. But that evening...her hands and mouth told a different story. He could feel the desire coiling in his abdomen at the very thought of their heated embrace...

He gave in, thumbs gliding across his screen:

Good morning stranger, sleep well?

Should he sign it with a name?

He would have liked her to call him Kylo Ren, like everyone else. Ben Solo was the name of an anxious teenager with voices in his head, abandoned by his parents, misunderstood by the world. Kylo Ren was the name he had given himself to turn the page. It was the emblem of his reincarnation as a critically-acclaimed rockstar and celebrated prodigy, Andrew Snoke’s prodigy, and Armitage Hux’s infamous nemesis.

He felt that she was suspicious of Kylo Ren...but the only person who called him Ben was his mother, and that was one more reason to bury the name. It brought him nothing but bad memories. She would just have to get used to calling him Kylo.

But he couldn’t bring himself to sign it.

The answer was almost instant:

Good afternoon to you.  It’s 1400 hours, if you just got up I reckon you had a rough night?

*

Touché. I’m more of a night owl. Music and inspiration are nocturnal things.  

*

And I’m ever the early bird. It's amazing that our paths crossed, in the end.

*

The day and the night...

*

The sun and the moon?  

*

Okay stop.

Rey and Ben looked down at their phones, simultaneously terrified.

What was this? Some heartfelt exchange of poetry? Flirting, both??

They were thousands of miles apart, her sitting on a park bench and him on a patch of asphalt. She was brilliant, shining in the sunlight as the wind swept against her face. He was taciturn, his heart preoccupied and his vision clouded with worry. Yet they found themselves back to back, each contemplating the absence of the other.

So far and yet so close.

In that moment suspended in time, Rey was the first to breath again.

What had changed? Nothing, in a sense. She was still mourning her marriage, drowning in anguish for Finn, and lacking insight on Ben. On the other hand, she was no longer angry, and under the Wyoming sun, on the cusp of happiness. Soothed, to say the least. She was no longer afraid of what the future would hold for her.

But Ben was drowning. It felt like they were at an impasse. Rey carried the weight of her grief like a burden, she lived on another continent and entered his life only by accident. She seemed destined to exit it just as quickly. They had met for the first time only a week ago, and the conviction that she was going to escape him and disappear forever from his life plunged him into an abyss.

Rey got up, stretched, slipping her phone into her back pocket. Maz was still playing fetch with BB8.

“You’re turning red. From the sun, no doubt?” Maz smiled mischievously.

“Of course. It’s only sunburn. Why else would I be turning red?” They smiled;  neither fooled by this coded little conversation.

Rey sat down at the wheel of the Millennium Falcon and put both hands firmly on the steering wheel.

“Maz...would you like to attend a concert tomorrow?”

Maz, busy fastening her belt, turned her head to look at the girl before her. “What kind of concert?”

“The rock kind. I would like to introduce you to someone.”

"A rendezvous with the sun himself, I take it?”

"Perhaps," said Rey, who felt the "sunburn" come back to her cheeks, “it's up in Gardiner tomorrow night. That still leaves us this afternoon and most of tomorrow to see the park...if you’re alright with the agenda, that is.”

"Nobody's waiting for tea with me in Anchorage, child. I can bring myself to spare time to meet someone tomorrow night.”

“Okay,” Rey giggled, she couldn’t repress her broad smile. “I hope you'll like him more than BB8...And honestly, I want to know what you think!”

“Ah, so it's BB8’s dear friend Ben Solo, the same man you had to speak to...I see.  I don’t know if I'm the best judge of character, you know.”

Rey turned to her, beseeching. “Please.  I cannot stand to be left alone with my contradictions, I lose focus. I need an outside opinion, and an objective one at that.”

Maz nodded, but she had stopped smiling. “You know Rey, we have not known each other for a long time, but I feel that sometimes, it feels good to be a little lonely. I think you did well to undertake this trip, and I think you shouldn’t go too fast with this Ben Solo.  Concentrate on yourself, your needs. The temptation of meeting someone “new” is great, I understand. But don’t let him lead your heart astray.”

“Well you'll be there to stop me from doing something stupid, right? Please?”

The little woman took off her glasses. Her eyes were tiny, almost lost in the middle of her face. “You must also learn how to cope with what is happening to you, instead of letting your entourage deal with your problems...Take charge, make decisions, learn from your mistakes.  It would not help you at all, if I "stop" you from anything. It's time for you to stop letting others decide for you. "

These words, though spoken kindly, pierced Rey like a dozen stab wounds. It was all her fault, in the end.

Her breathing became uneven and she looked away, so that Maz wouldn’t see her glistening tears. But the old woman could guess, all the same. She laid an affectionate hand on the girl's forearm:

“I'm sorry to have hurt you. You are a wonderful, bright girl. You simply lack confidence in yourself. Listen to your heart, it will never lead you astray.”

“My heart led me to marry a man who could never love me the way he was supposed to,” she replied bitterly, “you will forgive me if I'm suspicious of my intuitions, now.”

Ben Solo crushed his cigarette underfoot.

He would have to handle the tour and the mission at the same time. He had to be in Gardiner that very evening, after what was shaping up to be three hours of skirting Yellowstone traffic. The roads were flooded this time of the year. Syed, who was still chasing Rey on her adventures, was ahead of him.  The rest of the group was split into three vehicles and a van, all parked in the 4B parking lot for lunch.

His phone vibrated and he grimaced as Hux's name appeared on the screen.  Hux calling never meant anything good.

“Kylo Ren.”

“Hello, Kylo. I have Snoke on the other line, let me activate conference mode.”

Hux’s voice was too smooth, overly honeyed and precise in a way that indicated he was plotting something...and there was no telling what trouble was brewing with Hux and Snoke in the same room. Ben ran his fingers through his hair, straightened his shoulders, and took a deep breath. Every conversation with Snoke these days smacked of lawsuits. He wondered what it would be this time.

The sound of Snoke's slow breathing filled his speaker.

“Kylo Ren. How have you progressed?”

“As discussed, I’m tracking the girl, sir.”

“What were the results?”

"For now...her connection to Earth Soldiers is still unascertainable, apart from the fact that she is traveling with BB8 aboard the Millennium Falcon.”

"I’m certain she's walking you across the country when we need to concentrate our forces here at the headquarters. The mission is over, you are to come back.”

Ben Solo's heart skipped a beat. He had expected a reprimand, but not this. He did his best to control the trembling of his voice. “With all due respect, sir, it's too risky.  We would have a lot to lose from letting an activist agent go. "

"She's no more an activist agent than you are a musician, Kylo Ren," rasped Snoke. “The party is over.”

Ben was looking for the right words when Hux intervened.

“Don’t forget to keep your receipts, I will ask my assistant to prepare your expense report.”

The bastard was having a ball. He would pay for it dearly when the time came. Ben felt his blood boil with a combination of fury and humiliation. “Every single move Rey Jakku makes is being monitored. Where she's going, who she's talking to. I will make her talk, it's only a matter of time.”

“We are out of time. This conversation is futile, I’m sure Skywalker’s devotees are tired of running around like chickens without heads. It is time to silence them. Get rid of the girl and come home.”

Ben’s blood turned to ice. “Get rid of? What do you mean…?”

It was Hux who replied, his nasal drawl annoyingly triumphant.

“Burn the Millenium Falcon to ashes, kill the dog, steal the girl's papers to scare her. Come tomorrow, she will be back in England and her hitchhiker will find some other pathetic tourist to ride with.”

"What hitchhiker?”

The question came out reflexively and Ben regretted it in an instant. The first rule of the First Order was to never, ever admit failure, even if you were behind. Too late.

“How is it that you didn’t know?” Snoke said, sotto voce. “Am I to understand that you are supposedly monitoring every single one of Rey Jakku's actions, to use your own words, but that you did not know that she had picked up a travelling companion along the way?”

Ben remained speechless as he processes this new information. How did Hux and Snoke unknowingly get such intel?

“Perhaps you owe this failure to a pair of pretty eyes. If you want to keep your job, Ben Solo-Skywalker, you have an interest in getting results. Immediately.”

His full name was uttered with such contempt that Ben got goose bumps. He could feel his throat growing tight with hate as he held his tongue.

“Get rid of this girl, her car and her dog, and come home. I leave you twenty-four hours. If I don’t see results by then, I think you would benefit from a stay in the office. Hux will ensure your field work gets done while you go back to the drawing board.”

So that's what Hux had been up to, Ben thought, he wanted my place. Ben could feel his jaw clenching. Hux would pay for this in blood.

But he had to admit, it was the ideal form of blackmail: Rey or him. Whatever decision he made, it would cost him dearly. He knew he would not be able to recover.

His throat constricted, his eyes began to burn. Everything was falling apart so fast...as a young man, Ben had risen past his childhood trauma to become one of the most powerful men in the United States, respected and feared by all. But Snoke called the shots. He could reduce Ben to misery as easily as he had propelled him to the top.

"Do you hear me, Ren?” Snoke hissed.

“Yes sir. Crystal clear.” He paused. “Have you canceled the concerts?” He added quietly.

“I think your little publicity stunt, once a credible cover to justify your absences and trips with your cohorts, has gone to the head. You will play Gardiner tomorrow.  As for Bozeman...we'll see. You know what you have left to do.”

Ben hung up and screamed. In his rage, he snatched a metal trash and hurled it to the ground, before kicking it violently against the wall.

It was Syed. That fucking bitch. She had doubled crossed him and sold him out to Hux. Oh, that she was going to pay for, very, very dearly.

It took him a long time to catch his breath and find a semblance of sangfroid. A few yards away, Shakti, Skylar, and his other knights watched the scene in terrified amazement.

They heard nothing of the conversation but knew that only Snoke and Hux could ever make Kylo feel this way.

And Shakti, though she would never tell anyone, could have sworn she saw him cry.

[exodusmc]

A dream 05

Genre: Royal au

Words: 2043

Paring: Poor Jongdae! x princess reader!

Warning!:  Strong words, abusive behaviour 

a/n: This ones not the the best and I think this story is coming to an end soon. :)

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6

It was rocky, the road they were on. Sunny smiled, playing with a teddy bear Sierra had made. The girl hummed, wondering why they left the house and where they were heading. 

“Mommy..Where are we?” Minseok tensed slightly, the horses intensity reacting to the stiffness in the reins. Birds sang around them, forrest giving calmness a city couldn't. Rays of sunshine filtered through the pine, kissing the girl and two older.

“We are on our way to a vacation uncle Minseok planned for us”Sierra looked wary but the younger didn't notice, only smiling bright and giggling. 

Minseok glanced back into the carriage, seeing Jongdae still asleep and beaten up, however, Jongdae wasn't the thing Minseok worried most for, not the princess either, it was Baekhyun and the hollow look he had. The boy had been sitting in one place the whole time, never moving. He had lost his shine and it scared Minseok, even Sierra. 

“You’re so nice uncle Minseok! You’re the best!”guilt piled up in him and he smiled broken to Sunny, Baekhyun flinched and Minseok saw it, realizing that he didn't believe the girls words.

“Thank you Sunny”but that is not true…

-

Jongdae felt his whole body ache as light played over his closed eyes. He groaned slightly, stirring in his sleep. It felt weird as if he was moving, a slow rocking followed by sounds of..a carriage? His eyes instantly opened, regretting it a second later. Jongdae almost fell from the sudden nausea, his groaning becoming louder. What happened? It felt like he had fallen down a mountain. He sat still for a while, thinking about what the last thing he remembered was, until he recalled it. His eye darkened and he opened them, finding Minseok, Sierra, Baekhyun, who refused to look at Jongdae, and you, tied up and hidden under fabric. Anger bombed in him and he gritted his teeth, ready to punch Minseok the hardest he could. 

“I’ll goddamn ki-”Jongdae got up from sitting, his hands ready to grab Minseok, when he saw Sunny. Her eyes shone in the sun and Jongdae stilled. He couldn't do it when she was there. Sierra gave him a dark gaze as she held Sunny to her side. 

“God morning Jongdae..”Minseok spoke, his face blank but his mind knowing of Jongdae's burning hatred.”Slept well?”

He didn't answer, just sitting down again, glaring at Baekhyun, who wanted to disappear. Everything went wrong and he knew he never should have trusted Minseok, every storm he felt in himself was right. Jongdae fumed in the back of the carriage, his mind clouded with your eyes and what he’d done. 

“Why?” he mumbled from his place, making everyone tense. Sierra glanced back, distracting Sunny from Jongdae. Minseok hummed lowly, steering the horses. 

“Because she needs to be a ruler whom will not forget their people and she couldn't marry the boy..it would have destroyed everything…”

“Why didn't you tell me?”the venom in Jongdae’s voice made Minseok and Baekhyun flinch, while Sierra answered. 

“You wouldn't have done it”

-

Your heart was beating hard, fright filling every fiber of you. It happened so quickly, one second were you walking with Baekhyun, the next thrown over a man's shoulder, but you swore you saw the boy from nights ago, the dream which was real and breathing. What was he doing there?  What will they do? Are you going to die? You whimpered, body aching and sore, mind falling to pieces. 

“It’s okay...I’m sorry”you felt a hand stroke over your back, voice filled with pain and belonging to Baekhyun, at least that's what you guessed. You kept shaking, even with his soothing touch. “I’m so so sorry”

-

“Find them! Now! Bring back each and everyone's head!”the king roared, guards moving quickly to follow his orders. The queen stood silently beside him, crying for her daughter.

“You! I should have you thrown to the dogs!”Yoonji winched, her arms and legs bruised as punishment for losing you. 

“Love please!”your mother tried calming him down but his eyes could only see red and he could no longer look at her without disgust. 

“You whore! Shut your mouth!”he pushed her slightly, Yoonji reacting in a second to aide the queen, her body aching as she fought her way to your mother, standing before her and taking the kings slap. He growled but lowered his fist.”I’m sure you had something to do with this..So she wouldn't follow your steps..So she could find real love, like you traitor”

King Park and his son stood in disbelief, their every move being watched by soldiers. They had been accused by the king and Chanyeol’s father realized that old wounds had been ripped up. He watched your mother with passion, wanting nothing more than to hold her and get her away from the crazy man. She didn't deserve this, she was no whore, just human. Chanyeol didn't like were this was going, how your father acted. He would have married you, he would have taken care of you but he would still hurt for you, for how your eyes wanted nothing more than freedom. 

“Your majesty...I’m sorry for everything that is happening but you mustn't hurt the queen..”Chanyeol spoke with venom, not backing down from the kings stare. “She will be found and the ones which are guilty will be punished..”  

“But you need to let us go or else a war would break out, which is deeply unwanted”Chanyeol's father fished for him, challenging the king, who hissed at them. 

“Take them and the queen to there rooms, guard them. Throw her in the dungeon”he fell down on his throne, eyebrows pointing down in anger. 

You mother tried reasoning with him for Yoonji's sake but he just dismissed her, watching as the former guard was dragged away. The Parks was escorted away but Chanyeol's father stopped to glare at the king again. 

“You may have won years ago but not again”

-

Jongdae held you close, his heart beating fast as he carried you into the farm house. You were shaking so he tried to calm you, rocking slightly as he walked. He still felt anger for Minseok but had started to become exhausted, his body aching from the fall. 

“You’re pretty beaten up..”Minseok walked beside him but Jongdae only sped up, ignoring the older who sighed. He knew that Jongdae would be mad but maybe not like this, completely refusing Minseok's help even if he was limping. 

The oldest glanced at Baekhyun,who stared down, face pale. He didn't act like he usually did and it made Minseok worry. All the adrenaline which had filled him through the whole ordeal had die down and Minseok wanted nothing more than sleep. Sunny ran somewhere and Sierra followed her, her stone face back, only cracking for the child. 

“Minseok!” Junmeyon smiled from the doorway but it fell slightly at the bags under the older ones eyes. He glanced around, already knowing why one was holding a body in his arms.”I guess it has been rough?”

Junmeyons eye widen slightly at the only strangers death glare, how much hatred hid behind those brown eyes. Jongdae pushed past the man, ignoring him completely. He needed to get you somewhere else, where he could take away all the ropes, maybe talk to you. 

“It has and it won't get much better..”Minseok mumbled racing after Jongdae before he could do something. Junmyeon sighed, waving Baekhyun to him, simultaneously Sehun. The youngest moved no facial muscle but the stiffness in his body gave his nervousness away. 

“Jongdae...Leave her in there”Junmyeon said lowly, getting a hard look from the latter. The black haired man had realized who the stranger was, Minseok's letters being the reason.”We will tell her but first, we need to explain everything to you”

Jongdae grunted, not wanting to let you go from his arms and sight. He couldn't trust anyone in the house, not even Baekhyun. Sierra came with Sunny, the girl having droopy eyes. 

“If Sunny stays with her and no one comes close to the door…”looks exchanged through them all and Junmyeon nodded, thus making Jongdae leave you next to a sleeping  innocence. 

“I know you’re upset but hear us out”Minseok began, letting Jongdae look at them all. Two which he didn't know, Sierra in her stone and Baekhyun who looked like a ghost. 

“When I got your letter, about wanting help to steal from someone rich, I thought it was sign”Jongdae remember writing those words which lead to all this.”I knew you could get into the castle and find her room, the only thing missing from our plan”

“At first we didn't intended for you to be around when we took the princess”Junmyeon leaned forward, eyes shining dark as his obsidian hair.”But Sehun got a word of the supposed wedding and things started to move fast”

“We couldn't wait and needed someone who had been inside the castle, I didn't know enough to get us there myself..So we lied to you and I’m sorry for that”Minseok looked sincere and Sierra seemed to hold guilt as well. Baekhyun still refused to take his eyes away from the floor. 

“Why can't she marry?”a feeling like jealousy grew in Jongdae at his own words, you dancing with the other man playing in his mind. 

“Because she needs to realize she can do things on her own and that she doesn't have to listen to her father. If she married him, she would been caged”Junmyeon rose from his seat, walking to a window. The sun still shone but food was being begge for. 

“It doesn't mean you’re incompetent just because you marry someone”Sierra muttered from her corner, sending daggers the lord's way. Words which only Jongdae heard. 

“The rest of the plan is to show her the country she is supposed to rule and hopefully make her a better queen than the current king”silence lingered around the rather fancy room, leaving them all thinking. 

“You won't need me for that..”Jongdae could go home and he wouldn't have to feel guilt, you would never knew he was there. The only time he would have met you was the night moons ago.”I can go home..”

“You can..but do you want to?”

-

 “Why are you crying?”a sweet voice asked, a voice which shouldn't be there.”Are you hurt?”

“Y-yes..These ropes are too tight”why would a child be with you? A child which didn't sound afraid, rather calm.”C-could you m-maybe help me?”

“Okay!”you felt the pressure leave from all over you body, limbs still stiff but you could move them now, let the blood run through all you viens. Trembling hands grabbed the bag over your head, squinting at the brightness from a window.”Is it better now?”

The girl smiled, cheeks puffy. She didn't fit in what had happened to you, a kidnapping skem shouldn’t involve a child. Chubby child hands found yours and you realized she didn't know you, that you were a stranger. 

“Why were you like that?”you couldn't answer her, you didn't want to. It could frighten her, something you wanted to avoid. 

“What’s your name?”light hair stood around her face, shining in the bright light sippering through curtains. You sat on a comfy bed, the rest of the room decorated nicely but not like the castle. Where were you?

“Sunny! That’s what mommy calls me at least!What’s yours?”Sunny had big eyes of a child and you hoped they would look like it for her whole life, so she could always regard the world with colors. 

“It’s Y-”

“Princess..”your gaze flipped from the girl, finding its way to the doorway where a dream stood. His cheeks as high as you remembered, eyebrows pointing up and lips curled at the end. You never thought he would come into our life again, not after flying to the moon. But there he stood with his beautiful eyes of tourmaline and guilt. You met him again and he wanted nothing more than to run.