#who is sleep deprived and just finished it and is completely shell-shocked

[thehumanwiki]

you know, considering the additions of woodbine and lou lou, there were fifty tributes in the fiftieth hunger games

[ssajemilyprentiss]

Chapter II - Downward Spiral

Summary: Following the events of what has happened, Y/N herself is trying to figure out what really happened.

Warnings: Angst,  Self doubt, the team being kinda mean (sorry for this one), mentions of sleep deprivation, anxiety/panic attack  Let me know if I forgot something

A/N: Okay, here we are with chapter two. I don’t really have anything to say about this, more than thank you for the response and feedback on chapter one! Your kind words mean so much to me besties <3 

Italics are flashbacks

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since you completely fucked up your relationship with Emily by kissing her. Or scratch that, two weeks had passed since you fucked up your relationship with Emily by kissing Maggie. You couldn’t wrap your mind around what had happened, and no matter how many times you replayed the whole thing in your head you still didn’t get it. One minute you were sitting on the couch just as Emily had come home, and she was glowing – there was something about her that turned you on so much and you could have taken here right then and there. But then you hear her voice calling your name, and with that you see Maggie in front of you – and Emily standing in the door looking at you with shock and disgust in her eyes. 

Two weeks had also passed since you last stepped foot at the BAU. You didn’t want to meet the team and their judgmental looks at you. You had tried going there the next day to try to talk to Emily and explain. But how could you explain when you didn’t even know what happened yourself? How could you explain that one minute you were convinced that you saw Emily and kissed her, and the next it wasn’t her anymore? 

You walked through the doors of the bullpen with a horrible feeling in your stomach, like you would throw up any minute. You were met with the team sitting at their respective seats. And that’s when you see Emily, she’s looking down in her papers and just as you are about to walk up to her, she looks up. When she sees you it’s like her eyes change in an instant, they become sad and broken. She drops everything and rushes away towards Penelope’s bat cave, desperately trying to get away from you. You pick up you pace and call out 

“Emily!” causing everyone else to look up

JJ stands up immediately, gives you a look of disgust and walks away. Of course she has told them, why wouldn’t she? 

“Emily please just talk to me!” you call out once more and just as you are about to walk to where she went, you are stopped by Derek. You internally roll your eyes and tell him 

“Let me through Derek”

“You know I can’t do that, Y/N” he replies “She doesn’t want to see you”

“But I need to see her, I need to talk to her” you say as you try to walk past him, but Derek physically restrains you by pushing you away.

“What is there to talk about!?” he bursts out, anger lacing his voice “you have broken her, she loved you so much and now she is nothing but a broken shell” 

His sudden outburst makes Hotch and Rossi look out from their offices, looking at the turbulence that is going on in the bullpen. Just as you are about to lash out on Derek, Hotch calls out: 

“Agent Y/L/N my office now!” and walks into his office

You huff, push Derek’s hands off from you and start to walk towards Hotch’s office, feeling Derek’s eyes piercing in your neck. 

When you walk into Hotch’s office he is sitting in his chair, looking right at you as you walk in. 

“Close the door and take a seat” he utters

You close the door and walk to his desk, stopping in front of him. 

“Have a seat” he says gesturing towards the chair next to you

“No thank you I’d rather stand” you answer slightly annoyed and cross your arms. 

“Okay then” he says “What was that out there?” he asks

“What do you mean what was that? I was just trying to talk to Emily, and Derek is the one that caused a scene. Shouldn’t he be the one standing here?” you reply

“Y/N” he lets out a sigh and continues “You caused a scene by showing up here today, when all that happened is still fresh” 

“I’m sorry Hotch but I just want to try to solve everything that’s happened” you burst out at him “And what should I have done? She’s ignoring all my calls and texts, so I had to find her somehow” 

“It was a mistake to come in today” he states matter-of-factly

You don’t reply, only stand there and stare at him

“And you are going to take some time off” he starts and just as you are about to protest, he continues “You are going to take some time off until this has cooled down and that is final” 

“Fine” you say through your gritted teeth and walk out of his office and the bullpen as fast you arrived. 

And here you were in your empty apartment two weeks later, and you hadn’t seen Emily since. She kept ignoring your calls and texts, and she was staying with JJ. You had basically isolated yourself from the world, not leaving your apartment at all. What kept you going was that every day Penelope came by with a gift basket with food, standing outside your door waiting for you to open. You never did, so she always left the basket outside your door. 

You pick up your phone as you lay in your bed, the time shows 3.23 am, and four messages and two missed calls from Maggie. She had been trying to call and text you and had been by and knocked on your door a couple of times. But you ignored her, you couldn’t face her after what happened. The pit in your stomach only grew even more at the thought of her, and what the two of you had done. What you had done towards Emily, the woman who was the love of your life, the one who you were supposed to grow old with – but you ruined that. You put your phone away and close your eyes, preparing for another night on minimum sleep – most of the night contained what happened and how you fucked up replaying in your mind, taunting you. 

After tossing and turning for ages, you give up sleep once again. You pick up your phone and see that the time is now 7.27 am. And after this night of constant thinking, you had decided on something – you are quitting the BAU. How could you even go back after what happened? The whole team despises you, and they made their choice – they chose Emily. And why wouldn’t they? You were the one that cheated, they have known her longer and have a different relationship with her. So, it is for the best that you resign. 

You once again walk into the bullpen with that pit in your stomach, but this time no sight of either Emily or JJ. The first person you make eye contact with is Derek, who as soon as he sees you stands up and walk towards you.

“What are you doing here?” he asks with spite in his voice

“I still work here, and I am here to talk to my boss, so leave me alone” you reply, your voice equally spiteful as you push past him. 

You walk up to Hotch’s office and knock on the large door, hearing a muffled “Come in” from the other side. You open the door and see how his eyes darken at the sight of you.

He clears his throat before saying “Agent, I thought I told you...” but you interrupt him before he can finish

“Yes, I know you told me to take some time off, but I am here because I am resigning from the BAU effective immediately” you say as you place your badge and gun on his desk. Hotch doesn’t reply, he just sits there – looking at you with shock. 

“So, thank you for this time Agent Hotchner” you say and is about to leave as Penelope enters. 

“Sir you should look at this” she says while looking down on her tablet but looks up when she doesn’t get an answer. You see how her eyes light up at the sight of you, the first happy reaction you had gotten in weeks.

“You!” she squeaks and pulls you in for a hug “You are here” 

You give her a small smile “I am Penny, but I’m not staying” you say and walk past her

“Oh, but why?” she asks

“Agent Y/L/N has resigned effective immediately” Hotch answers before you get the chance to, and you see how Penelope’s bubbly smile is replaced by sadness. 

“Please before you leave can you just stay and listen to this quickly?” she asks pleading to Hotch, who doesn’t answer so you stay

“We have found something that also links the victims more than the monster they all described” Penelope says while looking at Hotch 

“And that is?” he asks

“They all remember feeling some kind of sage burning before seeing the monster...” Penelope replies but you can’t hear what she says anymore. Sage, that was the weird smell you smelled before being knocked out at your apartment. You feel as if the world is about to crumble upon you, and you feel how it gets harder to breath. You stand trying to breath for what feels like an eternity, but you hear Penelope’s muffled voice calling for you – pulling you out.

“Y/N sugar are you okay?” she asks with worry

You take a deep breath and look between her and Hotch, until your eyes locks with Hotch’s

“The unsub has been in my apartment” you say with a shaky voice

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

Taglist: @taralewiz​ / @mionemymind  

[sneyrwrites]

|Power Within|Kuroo x Reader.

✘ Genre: Fantasy! Au

✘ Warnings: Cursing

✘ Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader.

✘ Part: 0.5/ ?

✘ A/n: My heavily sleeped deprived brain came u with this concept and i had the urge to write it, so i hope you enjoy!

WARNING:

This story is under construction, and it will take some time for it to be ready for release. I’m posting the prologue to have some pressure to finish it and hoping to get any kind of feedback from the readers!

Kuroo knew the sound of the shuffling cards brought Kenma a sense of comfort. His friend smiled a little more and his pupils sharpened every time the stack separated into three neat piles in between them.

These monthly readings had become a sort of ritual between the both of them since Kuroo had become a Coven leader after Nekomata retired three years ago. They were reassuring to Kuroo and it gave him a way to fit spending time with his friend into his crazy schedule as the coven leader.. Meetings, reunions, diplomatic issues with the other three races and the constant need for budgets the Potion makers demanded being approved. Kuroo didn’t have time to practice his magic like he used to before. 

But the full monday a month he could give to his friend was enough to help ease a little of his stress.

Kenma had a way with Tarot cards, Kuroo was glad that he was able to find his magical affinity.As a late bloomer it took Kenma a long time to feel comfortable around the coven, no matter how much Kuroo tried to break into his shell. He remained the same introverted boy, until he stumbled upon divination and all its varieties when they turned 18.

Kuroo had found his tendency towards potions and specifically healing potions when he was around fourteen, and he knew Kenma was silently in pain because of that, but he did all he could to integrate him into the coven. The long wait was worth it in the end. Kenma was the best cartomancer in the Coven, with his reading being able to predict things precisely, and his ability to interpret the magical energy from the cards allowed him to perceive specific details and images.

The orange curtains partially blocked the sunlight coming in through the windows, tinting everything in sunset colours even though it was the early morning. They were the only two members of the Coven wandering around in the main building during those cold autumn days. The smell of myrrh and a hint of vanilla in the air not coming from the incense, but from Kenma’s magic, gave the room a placid atmosphere. 

 Kuroo smiled as the cards re-stacked themselves and then started to spread in the characteristic way they always did, prompted only by Kenma’s will, not even needing him to cast a spell. 

Three cards laid out in front of them facing down, and everything felt normal. Kenma flipped the first two revealing the emperor and the cart, both signifying a successful month ahead of them. Kuroo knew a little of tarot himself,  just enough to get a general sense, but the practice never called him, potion making snatching his full attention. 

Kenma’s hand reached for the third card but stopped right above it, not even touching it. A furrow settled in his brows and his pupils sharpened, to the point where they were barely noticeable. The air in the room went stagnant, and the magical energy tingled Kuroo’s skin. Something changed. 

“What the f…?” The quiet murmur of confusion coming from Kenma only fueled his unease. “That’s weird… Who…?” His frown deepened.

“What is it?” The urgency in his voice was almost tangible and by the pointed look Kenma sent his way, totally unhelpful. “The reading was going well right?”

“Yeah.” Kenma hesitated, a small flash of fear behind his eyes. His still stretched out hand trembled. “But som…” He couldn’t finish

The stack that was calmly next to him flew up in the air, followed by the other three remaining cards. A spicy smell overpowered Kenma’s, alerting us that another magical presence had entered the room, manipulating the deck in a way that was unheard of. 

Kuroo could only watch as the cards wildy flew around the room re-arranging  and mixing. Kenma looked shocked, as his eyes tried to follow every single change. The thought that Kenma wasn’t the one manipulating them made a cold and heavy feeling, like an iceberg drop in his stomach. 

Was it a Hex? Was someone trying to break the spell protecting the coven’s building? No, if that was the case the alarms would go off. Either way he was going to call Wakatoshi and ask him to check and reinforce it

After what felt like a lifetime the cards finally stacked themselves up in the middle of the table, settling the room in a tense and heavy silence both of them were afraid to break. His heart was beating erratically and a cold sweat beaded on his forehead. What was even going on?  He took a look at the clock on the wall, it read 5:40 am. Not even ten minutes had passed since they started. 

Kenma reached for the stack but, as soon as he hovered his hand above them, he pulled it away, as if the Tarot Cards had burned his skin. Kuroo watched in disbelief as his friend rubbed the palm of his hand, a hurt expression morphing his face. Now he was really worried. The cards never had done that to him before, normally it was the opposite, the cards welcomed Kenma and almost buzzed when he manipulated them.

“They want you to flip them…” Disbelief tinted his words, and he looked so frail and dejected it almost pained Kuroo. “I can’t touch them.” 

“Is it okay if i…?” Kuroo was apprehensive about touching Kenma’s deck. It was his most prized possession, and he cared for them with his life. Touching them made Kuroo feel all kinds of dirty and unworthy. 

“Go ahead… Something bad is going on.” The resolve in Kenma’s voice appeared out of nowhere.

The cards didn’t lash out at him when his fingers brushed the smooth surface of the card on top. He flipped the first and suppressed a gasp.

The burning tower and the man falling to the ground made Kuroo sweat even more. The falling tower was never a good sign in a future reading.

Kenma sharply inhaled as he observed the deck. Kuroo willed his hand to stop shaking and he flipped the second card over. The devil card delivered even more bad news. He knew the basic meaning, but by the way Kenma hissed and brought his hand to his forehead it meant something more.

“Are you okay? Too overwhelming?” Kuroo got up, and was about to make his way to Kenma's side but he stopped him with a sign of his hand, recomposing quickly after a moment. 

“I'm fine, the energy got a little hectic back there and bombarded me with blurry images... Flip the third one.” Kuroo flopped down at the command of his friend, watching him intently.

He had never seen Kenma as unnerved as he was in that moment. His lip was tightly imprisoned between his teeth and Kuroo worried he might draw blood if he kept pressing it so tightly. But there was nothing to do besides go with it. A fist was clamping his hear, filling himt with fear for whatever the next card would predict. Anticipation was thick in the air and after a sharp intake of air, he willed his hand to grab the third and final card of the reading. 

The blasting ringtone from his phone made him jolt in his seat, the somber mood completely broken by the upbeat tone of “Everybody wants to be a cat” from The Aristocats. His heart had risen to his throat, and he felt the rapid pulse in his neck, slightly deafening him, overpowering the ringtone. He exchanged a doubtful glance with Kenma, afraid whatever the cards predicted had started already.

Tendou’s face popped in the screen, and he worried even more. The Seer was his friend, but such an early call was out of character from him. 

“It's the Seer... I wonder what he wants. He usually sleeps until 2pm....” His eyes searched Kenma’s once more and with the nod from his friend he unlocked his phone and took the call.

“Hello Hello, Kuroo-san…” Tendou’s cheery voice erupted from the speaker and he cringed at the tone. “ I see Kenma and you are in the middle of a reading. Get it? See... I'm the Seer, never mind...” He cleared his throat and his mischievous tone disappeared in the next sentence. “ Cleanse the room after you finish, Gaia visited me and that’s never a good sign.” That little sentence felt as if  an anvil had fallen on him. The knot in his throat grew. 

Now of all times, when he was in charge of 700+ people, Gaia decided to present herself to Tendo and warn him.? Shit was about to hit the fan.

“Flip the next card Kuroo.” He followed the instructions and the Sun card appeared. “Huh... Maybe Gaia was wrong...” The confused tone came from the phone… “

“Should you be disrespecting the goddess like that Tendou-san?” Kenma’s eyes were lost, almost as if he was observing something that wasn’t there as he spoke

“Oh, Kenma-kun, you worry too much.” He stopped for a second “But still, both of you, be careful, and please, try not to lash out too much on her Kuroo… Or else things could get really ugly really fast.” He warned.

“What do you mean Tendou?”  Kuroo asked, worry once more tainting his voice “Who?”

“Gaia, I’m sleepy. Gotta go guys, let’s play later Kenma! I’ll be jungler this time, bye bye!” The dialing tone silenced any further questions they could have. 

Kuroo stared at his screen in shock. 

“It's too early for this shit.” Kenma's sigh grabbed his attention. “ I need a coffee... Let's go to Starpups...”  He proposed with a disinterested tone.

“Are you really thinking about coffee in a moment like this? Are you kidding Kenma?” Kuroo felt like throwing up from the emotional rollercoaster he just went through, and his friend wanted to get a coffee?  

“What else can we do really? The only thing I got from that reading was the smell of spicy ramen and a flash of red. I can’t really think of anything right now.” Kenma's eyes held some doubt behind them, but Kuroo let it go. “Grab your talisman and let's go.”

“Why my talisman?” he never used it when going out for coffee

“Just do it, trust my gut...” Kenma sent him a pleading look, his eyes letting him know there was a solid reason behind his concern.

Kenma turned around and practically bolted out of the room. Sighing, Kuroo gave the cards on the table a dirty look and lit the incense on fire, hoping to cleanse some of the residual energy in the room, before leaving as well.  

He felt as if some of that spicy magical energy lingered on his skin, even after he closed the door behind him

CHAPTER 1 SNEEK PEAK

“Listen you f…” His startled gasp cut your colorful string of curses. Following his eyes you noticed the thick black cloud of smoke. That was coming from your sleeve, which was on flames.  “What the fuck dude! Put it out!” You desperately tried to put the flames off, but they wouldn’t budge. 

A startled cry left your lips when the flames grew and almost lashed out to the man, as if they had a mind of their own. He barely dodged the hit, the tip of his tie getting a little singed.  

“It wasn’t me I swear! I’m not an elementari I’m just a cartomancer!” He looked almost as freaked out as you after that. “ Why did you start a fire!? Is there a counter hexer in here!?” 

“Yeah, like it’s my favorite activity to set myself on fire!” You whined, waving your arm around as the flames crept up. 

“She seems fine...” a soft and monotone voice stated, and a guy poke his head from behind the tall man.  His blond dyed hair showing quite a large amount of dark roots and styled in a half bun. His eyes were also sharp and attentive sporting the same style of pupils and irises. They seemed to pierce your very soul

The tall and worried man in front of you scanned your face, and you took a second to study his features. His jaw was sharp and his nose straight, with high cheekbones and cute lips. 

He was hot, and his messy hair with black locks spiking up in odd places and partially falling over his forehead was way too wild  to be just a consequence of the merciless wind that picked up that autumn morning. And it did wonders to make him look even more appealing.

[nev3rfound]

not who you think : p.8 (ending)

brief summary: this is supposed to be it, jason will complete his mission and in turn destroy yours. but you all knew it was never going to be that easy, complications always occur whether they’re planned or not. 

word count: 2.5k requested: yes it was, tbh this was a semi-abandoned project. but with one part to finish, i felt like serving the story justice  warnings: angst, some violence 

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - thank you to everyone who helped regarding the wattpad situation, you’re all amazing)

* masterlistin’

** permanent taglist

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight

Despite the number of arguments it caused, you were left with no choice other than to opt for Plan B. You hated them for it, you hated yourself for agreeing with it. But it was like they all said, there wasn’t going to be another choice if you wanted this to end. 

Sitting in the building site, you look around as you tap into your comms. “You guys got good visuals?” You mutter, asking Bucky and Sam who should be in position up on the roof.

“We see you. Got eyes on Cap?” Bucky questions and I allow my eyes to wander, spotting Steve stood in the open like a big fish in a small pond- he couldn’t stand out any more if he wanted to. 

Forcing your smile to remain concealed, you nod to yourself. “He’s doing what Steve does best,” You tell Bucky. “trying to hide behind that baseball cap of his.” You joke, hearing a short laugh from Steve through the comms.

“His best disguise to date.” Sam tries to ease the tension, adding humour before everyone returns to the matter at hand- stopping your brother from causing any more harm. 

Your ears perk up at the sound of that infamous bike revving. It was something you’ve always associated with them, with those people ever since you joined. If any of them went on an outing, they took the motorbikes to make sure they were noticed. Revving the engines was to assert dominance, that in this very moment your brother had more control than Steve. 

“He’s here,” Bucky mutters as you from one of the derelict buildings, only being held up by a series of beams and abandoned scaffolding. “no one is to move now, you understand?” 

Everyone silently agrees, and Steve approaches Jason before he’s even slipped his helmet off. 

Remaining out of sight, you peer your head around the corner of the crane, covered by bags of concrete yet to be used. “Be careful, Steve.” You whisper to yourself, silently praying this all goes to plan. 

Jason discards the helmet, throwing it on the floor. You watch as dust covers it, but he couldn’t care less. This is his victory, the one thing he’s been assigned that’ll mean something to him. He knows that eyes are on him, they refused to let him go alone but you planned for this too. Two can play at this game, especially when you’re up against fellow and former assassins. 

“Listen, no hard feelings.” Jason chuckles, holding his gun up clearly for Steve to see who merely nods. 

“A job is a job, I get it man.” Steve responds, cracking a small smile as your brother falters. Even from where you’re standing, you can see that he’s shaking, he’s afraid. “But you don’t have to do this, we, we can help you.” Steve explains, stepping forward but his movements cause Jason to flinch and cock his gun. 

“Don’t fuckin’ move.” Jason states bluntly, holding his gun out in front of him as Steve raises his hands in defence. His eyes are darting around the building site, wandering from the cranes and you can’t help but do the same. 

As you allow yourself to fully take in the surroundings, you notice small devices set up. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they were. “Guys, there are automatic snipers set up on Jason.” You let out a shaky breath, everything feeling more and more real as the seconds pass. 

“I’ll see if there’s anything Tony can do.” Sam speaks up through the comms, seeing you wiping your forehead from where you’re hiding. 

“Remain calm, Y/n. No sudden movements, okay.” Bucky reminds you, watching as you nod to yourself as you hold your gun close to your chest, checking every few minutes to ensure it’s loaded. 

Steve remains perfectly still, the ideal target for an assassin without any of the fun. It was too easy, and Jason knew. “Something’s off about this.” Jason mutters to himself, shaking his head. 

His confidence was being chipped away as he turned from Steve, listening to someone talking to him. 

“Jason, I’m doing what I have to do here. I, I just want to protect Y/n.” Steve explains, and Jason diverts his attention from the voice speaking to him and shifts to face Steve with cold eyes. 

“What did you just say?” Jason questions with ice in his tone, stepping closer to Steve. “How do you know Y/n?” He focuses on Steve’s eyes, seeing that glint of hope that is nothing but a distant memory for himself. 

“I just know her alright, Jason. But she doesn't want this, she doesn’t want to lose you because of this.” Steve tries to reason, but Jason scoffs as he steps backwards, shaking the gun around. 

“I can’t mess this up, Cap!” Jason yells. “This is my last chance, otherwise I’m a dead man.” 

“He’s stalling.” You state, fear evident in your voice. “Why is he stalling this?” You think aloud and then you feel it, a gun being pressed against your back. 

“Good to see you again, Y/n.” A forgotten voice mutters behind you as a sigh escapes your lips. 

“Wish I could say the same.” You respond before turning around, quickly disarming the man and snapping his arm and take a hold of the gun. He yells out in pain, alerting everyone else as Jason holds the gun in front of Steve once more.

“Where is she?” Jason demands, and before Steve has the opportunity to respond, you walk out holding a gun up straight back at him. 

“Hey, Jase.” You call out with a weak smile, but his eyes avert down to the body on the ground sticking out from your prior hiding place. “Does it really have to come to this? Can’t we just move on, you, you don’t have to do this, please.” You plead, hoping there is a slither of the brother you knew left in that shell. 

“I warned you, sis. If you don’t help me, you’re my problem.” He retorts, looking right through you forgetting everything you’ve been through together. 

Standing beside Steve you reach down as your fingers intertwine. “Don’t do this, Jason.” You tell him, practically beg through your expression as his eyes avert to his nightmare, you and his target together. 

“I have no choice.” Jason mutters, lifting his gun up as he closes his eyes.

“NO!” You scream, hearing the bullet being fired and everything happens too quickly.

Steve keeps his eyes closed, looking down to see where the crimson should line his chest, but there is nothing. His eyes fall to you on the ground, coughing. 

“No, no.” Steve rambles, shock taking over his system as he looks up to Jason who stands too still. “This is all your fault.” He spits, holding you in his arms as you start to lose consciousness. 

“I failed.” Jason states quietly as he drops the gun and tries to run away, but as he runs shots are fired from the automatic snipers. He barely makes it to his bike, he was never going to escape. 

Tearing his eyes from your brother's body, Steve focuses back on you as tears line your cheeks. “Steve,” You whisper, trying to lift your arm up but Steve protests.

“It, it’s okay, Y/n.” Steve hushes you, stroking your hair. “Why did you have to do that?” He fights back tears for your sake, not wanting you to see him cry now. 

A small laugh leaves your lips, possibly the last Steve will ever hear. “Save you,” You state. “I’ll always,” A series of coughs leaves your lips as you glance down to see blood coating your skin. “save you, Cap.” 

The sounds of footsteps increase as Sam and Bucky appear by Steve’s side, horror spreading across their expressions at the sight of blood pouring from you. 

“Make sure he’s happy, boys.” You smile weakly up to the two guys who nod in response, forcing smiles. “Don’t let him dwell, I,” You take a deep breath, knowing the end is coming, you can just feel it. “I want him to find a dame to dance with.” You say, focusing back on Steve who can’t stop the tears from falling now. “Goodbye, Steve.” You whisper, falling limp in his arms. 

*

Three months had passed by to some in a blur, but to Steve, each day was painfully slow without you. 

It hurt him to think he lost you that easily, after everything you were gone because you sacrificed yourself. You knew the bullet might not have killed him, there was a chance he could’ve been saved. But you couldn’t help yourself, of course, you had to do it because that’s just who you are. Were.

Everyone else seemed to carry on with the weight-bearing on their shoulders, but they carried it effortlessly. “Why does no one mention it?” Steve blurts out over breakfast as both Sam and Bucky stop eating, focusing their attention on Steve and his sleep-deprived state.

Furrowing his brows together, Sam looks over to Bucky for guidance on what Steve could be on about today. 

“It’s still fresh, Steve.” Bucky reminds his best friend, having heard him in the night crying for his lost love. 

“Then why does no one talk about her?” Steve’s voice rises with anger and disappointment. “Y/n died, she is gone.” Steve spits the truth to his friends, looking as they both avoid his harsh gaze. “And, and you all act as if nothing happened. As if she didn’t save my life and that I’ll never see her again.” 

Sam rises to his feet after Bucky gives him a look. He departs the room, knowing words are going to be exchanged that he’s best to not be present for today.

“Steve,” Bucky starts slowly, knowing what he’s about to confess won’t be easy to digest by any means necessary. “we haven’t exactly been honest with you about a few things.” He exhales deeply, struggling to focus on where to begin. 

“What do you mean?” Steve questions slowly, pushing himself from the counter and moves closer toward Bucky. 

“Y/n,” Bucky mutters your name under his breath. “she, she’s not dead.” 

Lifting his eyes up to focus on Steve, all Bucky can see is bewilderment and distrust. “No, she’s dead.” Steve responds, shaking his head. “She, Y/n died in my arms, Buck.” Steve states as he releases a heavy sigh, the memory of you in his arms as you bled out still a harrowing thought. 

“Y/n came up with Plan C, Steve.” Bucky admits, knowing you wanted him to find out when the time was right, once it was safe for him to know the truth. “She asked us to do this for you, to make sure you were safe.” 

“You’re lying.” Steve bites back, knowing it’s not possible that you’re still alive. 

“She wanted this for you, Steve. You managed to find a way to take down the assassins that were left and did so to ensure no one else got hurt by them. Y/n knew she had to die in order for them to be stopped and leave you alone.” Bucky tries his best to explain, remembering the conversations you had with him in the days leading up to the mission. He thought it was an insane concept, but you knew you could do it. 

“She can’t be,” Steve mutters as he steps back as thoughts of you consume his mind. He grips the counter tightly, veins protruding through his skin as flashes of your smile, your laugh, your energy to your lifeless body in his arms. How could it have been fake? 

“But I am.” You call out, knowing now wasn’t the right time, but you couldn’t stay away any longer. 

Steve tenses at the sound of your voice, one he never anticipated hearing again. 

Stepping out from the doorway, you ignore Bucky’s gaze on you and turn to face Steve. You silently sigh, seeing how tired he looks. “Hi Stevie,” You whisper, standing in front of him as you slowly reach up, resting your hand on his cheek. 

He leans into your embrace, still in a state of shock. “You’re not real.” He mutters, his eyes remaining locked on yours. “You can’t be.” He states, watching as you shake your head as a smile ghosts your lips.

“I’m real, Steve.” You whisper. “I won’t go away again, I promise.” And that is something you really mean. You promised Steve you’d stay safe throughout it all, and you did. All you had to do was figure out a more effective plan, and it worked. 

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/n?” Steve questions, tears forming in his eyes. 

“It was too dangerous.” You tell him, tearing your eyes from his to Bucky. “I made him promise me he wouldn’t say anything. Sam too.” You explain as your hand slides from Steve’s cheek to his hand, taking his in yours. “If you knew the plan wouldn’t have worked.” You knew if he saw your body flinch he’d give it away. 

“You sayin’ I’m a lousy actor?” Steve cracks a joke, hearing that laugh he’s longed for since he lost you. “Are you staying this time?” He questions, wanting nothing more than for you to stay in his arms, for him to not lose you. 

“I think so,” You say quietly, returning your focus on him with a small smile. “everyone thinks I’m dead, so I’ve got nowhere to go.” You let out a dry laugh, having known you could never go back to the school, you’ll never see Lillian again or those kids. 

“You’ll always have a home here, Y/n.” Bucky interjects. “It’s the least we can do.” He nods to you before rising to his feet and departing the room, leaving you and Steve alone.

“Bucky’s right you know.” Steve tells you. “If you want this to be your home, it’ll be open for you, always.” 

Without another word needing to be said, you lean your head against Steve’s chest. “I’ve missed you so much, Steve.” You mumble as tears fall from your cheeks. 

Steve rests his arms around you tightly, this time refusing to let you go. “I’m glad you came home, Y/n.” He says with a small smile. “I still have a dance or two left to teach you.” 

A light laugh escapes your lips as you glance up at him. “And I’ve got a move or two to teach you too, Cap. ‘Bout time you compete against another former assassin, huh?” 

“Yeah, my girlfriend, the ex-assassin.” Steve whistles to himself, still comprehending after all this time, it will always be you. 

THE END 

taglist for this series (nwyt) - if your url has been crossed through it means it did not work for some reason

@dlb113 @savagittariuspy @classyunknownlover @kit-kat-katie99@untoldshortsofthefandoms@avengemepercy@galacticstxrdust@benhardyslut@nerdy-jelly-art @buckyxwintersxldier@thefandomplace@littlegangrel@geek-and-proud @dottirose @marvelousmendess@myboyfriendgiriboy @nicole-lynne@weasleyisourjedi @oais-sis@isabella212@joe-mazzello-is-my-dad@capstopavenger @sucre-caroline@rinymichelle321@sltwins@evanstush @smileyishere92 @dark-night-sky-99@daintyreindeer@amillionworlds@imjustanonymousy @love-me-91393@tearsforhan@newyorkcomixx @luckylightfiction @peek-a-boo-boo-boo@silverinealchemy @xjaelee @carebaredanvers @caninoona @shallowshawn @jennifersier @darkdragonpheonix @mca-attack21 @capstopavenger @i-love-superhero @awkwardnesshabitat  @hookaddict​ @atlas-of-a-human-soul​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous​ @naomiiiiiiiiiii04​ @thegriefcollector​ @littledaph​ @bucky-blogs​ @rootcrop​ 

[devolympian]

Argo, chapter 4

Argo, chapter 4

Interesting thing to note for when you have what most people consider familial obligations and appointments to meet at a specific time, more often than not, you have the responsibility of waking at a designated time of day. Usually at the ripe healthy time of say, oh I don’t know, 5:15 A.M.

With this set responsibility and a need to earn a living inorder to drive a consumer centric economy with which one needs to survive in it is best to get the recommended amount of sleep 

So, between the multiple rounds of personal gaming tournaments, mountains of junk food and soda, and completely being unwilling to actually go to bed, I can proudly say none of us did that as about three hours after we had all decided to crowd into Skyes bed a loud beeping noise filled the room.

“Well shit” I happily state in an enthusiastic tone as my sleep deprived eyes look up at her ceiling.

“I’ll get it” said an even more sleepless voice to the left of my body, as Skye began to sit up and lean over a still unconscious Clair and I.

She promptly fell on top of us, her massive curly mess of blonde hair practically working as a second blanket that covered the three of us.

“Blondie” I questioned as her green eyes slowly began to close, “you gonna get that one or?”

“Five more minutes.”

And with those words Skye began to softly snore, her chest on top of mine, as she used my shoulder for a pillow.

Clair made sure to do her part by not waking up to the alarm clock and unconsciously wrapping her arms around me and Skye and pulling us into her naked body. 

Yes, Clairabell sleeps naked and it’s perfectly okay that she does so.

With a slight shrug I was perfectly content with letting the alarm clock run its course as I fell back to sleep sandwiched between these too. But, naturally, I remembered that I had a prior engagement to visit some family members who don’t particularly like being stood up.

Shimmying myself upwards I managed to slither out from in between the girls and did my best to step over Clair as she and Skye cuddled under the blanket seemingly unaware that I had left the pile.

Tapping the alarm I went about and started my day.

First thing’s first I made my way to the restroom; stepping over the various soda cans, wrappers, and half finished snacks we had decorated Skyes floor with the night prior (ooh cheetoh, nom), I was determined to perform the most important act of the day which everyone must do regardless of their social political views on it. The brushing of teeth and a warm shower.

Not saying you’re wrong if you don’t do this daily, just saying you need a therapist and time in a mental institute.

Now, let me take this moment to inform you about Skyes bathroom. It is ridiculous, not only because no one needs a personal restroom in their bedroom, but also because of the fact that the place was almost as big as her actual room with a tub that could easily fit three people, yes we’ve tested it, but also a large closet which is now overflowing with various dresses and cute outfits all of which were hand made.

None of these details are important to the story, I feel you should know, they are just my personal thoughts which I felt like sharing.

Anywho, after a nice shower, and making my mouth not smell like ass with the tooth brush I left here, which everyone needs to use TWICE a day, I wrapped the one of Skyes soft pink towels around my hips and headed on over to her dresser.

Now, I think what you’re wondering right now is “Alex, why the hell are you going through your best friend's clothes?” And even if you weren’t I will tell you any ways.

Ever since I was a wee lad Skyes room has been basically my second room, hell I think I’ve slept in her bed more than my own over the years. This was all well and good when we were little and innocent and we could basically fit into each other's clothes, but when this thing called puberty attacked us that started to change.

I got taller, my arms and legs got longer, I started shooting lightning, I got a six pack, a strong jaw, started getting hit on by older women and men even though I was like 12. You know, normal stuff like that.

Skye, on the other hand, went in kind of the opposite direction with her growing less in height and more in boob, and hip. She also gets hit on by older women and men so at least we -    have that experience in common.

In short, I had to start bringing over clothes whenever I stayed the night and sense I stay here a lot, a few of my outfits have more or less made their home in the dresser she keeps her TV and video games on. Granted, we do end up wearing eachothers clothes from time to time, but that’s besides the point.

Pushing our plates from last night to the side and setting the controllers we used back where they went I dropped my towel to the ground and started shifting through the drawer in the search for the allusive boxer shorts.

“Ooh” a tired voice called out, “that’s a nice sight to wake up to.”

I tilted my head in the direction of the bed to see Clair sitting up, her violet eyes still not fully open as she smiled at me.

“Good morning dear” I said, “sleep well, dreams of rainbows and kittens maybe?”

“More like blood, fire, death, all the fun stuff.”

“You and I have very different dreams. . . why am I only noticing that now?”

Clairabell giggled a little, then took a look around the bedroom with her expression changing to slight shock at what she saw.

“Wow, we really made a mess last night.”

“Yes well mortal kombat and super mario bros will do that.”

“Especially if someone spends the game trolling me and Skye!”

“What else was I supposed to do, not hit you with the turtle shell?”

With a sigh. Clair placed the tip of her thumb between her sharp canine teeth and bit down until I could see a bit of blood trickle out.

“Alright gals” she said, holding her hand out infront of her, “be dears and clean this mess up.”

The small amount of blood coming from her thumb quickly started to sizzle and bubbles soon began coming from it.

Every one of the bubbles quickly grew in size, changing color to a dark reddish brown before sprouting bat wings and ears. Each one had a cute cat-like face and little fangs poking out from their adorable smiling mouths.

Soon, Clair had at least ten little blood bats hovering around Skyes room, before they began picking up the mess we had made last night.

Also, I managed to find a pair of my boxers, so this was a huge win for everybody involved.

After stretching a little, Clair stood out of Skyes bed, making sure that the blanket stayed on our blond friend, before picking up her clothes from last night.

“Can’t sleep” I asked as I attempted to hunt down a pair of pants?

“Just thought I might as well wake up” she happily answered as she tossed her dirty laundry into Skyes clothing basket, “don’t want to make you feel lonely now do we?”

“Don’t worry, I know how to entertain myself whenever I’m naked and alone.”

“That’s what every girlfriend wants to hear.”

Just as I had, Clair went into the restroom to get ready for the day ahead.

She brushed her teeth, and I still can’t find a goddamn pair of pants.

“How long do you need to be on Olympus for?” I heard her call out as I slowly lost my mind from lack of lower body wear.

“Probably until ten or twelve hours. I might need to beg for forgiveness if the old man decides to snag a booty call and leaves me to deal with his wife.”

“Your dad’s gross.”

“I know that’s why I have two, but apparently neither of them can bless me with a pair of jeans.”

“Don’t you keep pants in that weird pocket thingy you have?”

“. . .”

Reaching my hand into the air I went ahead and opened the aforementioned pocket thingy, which was a small rip in space which works as a nice little storage space to keep stuff in. To most people it would look as though my hand disappeared into space, and they would be kind of right, one wrong move and my hand is gone. I can get it back, but it takes a while and requires more than two people.

Feeling my way past the treasure, bones, holy grails, and my new little worm buddy I found myself touching what felt like pants and pulled them out.

They were torn a little in the knees and a bit stained but worked for the day.

“Found my pants.”

“I am so proud of you.”

I chuckled a little and prepared to get these things on. But, before I could even slip a leg in, a still naked Clair had managed to get in front of me, wrapped her arms over my shoulder and leaned herself into a kiss.

Naturally, I did what every sane person would do when a naked woman throws herself at them. I grabbed her waist and pulled her close, our naked chest pressing against each other as she forced her tongue passed my lips and we went and explored each other's mouths.

The kiss lasted a good bit of time and I soon found myself pushing Clair against Skyes dresser, my hands sliding down her well toned body as she hooked her thumbs around the elastic band of the boxers I had put on just a moment ago and started pulling them off again.

Eventually we broke the kiss and Clair gave me a smug smile on top of her flushed face.

“Sure you have to go right now?”

With a slight smirk I lifted her onto the top of the dresser, her long legs instantly wrapping around my hips as I leaned in and whispered into her ear.

“I absolutely need to go right now.”

She gave me an annoyed groan before pushing me a little and angrily jumping off the dress as I pulled out a shirt from it.

“Oh come on” I said, laughing a little, “we can’t exactly hook up in Skyes room.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Her parents are in the room across the hall.”

“I’ll be quiet.”

“I won’t. You know I’m a moaner.”

I wonder if Clairabell glaring angrily at me was a sign that I had annoyed her enough. Naw, I can be more annoying.

After slipping the pants on I popped the shirt I had grabbed over my head.

“That’s Skyes shirt” Clair pointed out as I slid the black tank top on, even though it was rather tight fitting. It had a cute little cartoon panda head smiling on the chest as its cheeks glowed a rosey pink.

“Yes'' I assured her as I fished out a pair of socks and slipped on my boots, “it is most definitely Skyes shirt.”

Clair sighed and patted a sleeping Skye head.

“I’m so sorry for your clothes Skee-skee.”

I watched as Skye slept peacefully next to Clairs lap and felt a slight lump build in my throat.

“Hey” I said without really thinking, “make sure you guys talk, okay?”

Clairabell gave me a confused look; one of her fangs slightly poking out of her upper lip while she tilted her head questioningly.

“Huh? We talk all the time though.”

“Yeah, but. . .”

I thought for a bit, trying to figure out the best words to use to bring up the subject.

“Just, maybe ask her how she’s feeling or something.”

“How does she feel?”

She looked down at blondie again.

“Tired. She’s tired.”

I chuckled and sighed, pushing my uneasy feeling away.

“Yep, that makes sense. Can you open the window for me?”

“Babe, there’s a door.”

“And?”

“. . . good point.”

Upon Clairs instruction a blood bat floated over and pulled Skyes window open for me letting the fresh morning air into the room.

“Thanks,” I said before taking a running start and flinging myself over Skyes bed and out a second story window.

With a loud crash I found myself laying ontop of multiple thorny bushes, the branches digging into my body as I tried to adjust to the aching in my back.

“Perfect landing” I groaned as I got ready to sit up.

“Oh yes, great job” a woman's voice said, “now please get off my plants.”

I turned my head to see two women standing over me. 

The one on the left, who was giving a very annoyed glare, looked like a lighter skinned Skye with bright yellow eyes and had her golden blonde hair tied up into a long ponytail. As was usual for her at this time of the morning, her red tank top and tanned shorts were covered in dirt and mud and black gardening gloves adorned her hands.

The one on the right was dressed up in a white toga like dress with summer lilies braided into her dark hair and she wore a diamond encrusted gold necklace around her throat. Also, her dark green colored eyes had the look of someone who had just watched her son throw himself from a second story window and land on the bushes she had helped her friend plant.

“Morning” I happily said to them before Skyes mom flicked her wrist and the bush, in response to said wrist flicking, jumped up a little and shoved me off of it before settling back into the soil.

“You’re in a chipper mood today” mom said as she helped pull me off the ground.”

“Oh who wouldn’t be when their job entails possible death and dismemberment?”

“Him and the girls practically stayed up the entire night” Skyes mom informed mine, “I swear that Clairabell screams louder than a banshee.”

Moms eyes grew wide as she gave me a once over before looking back at Skyes mom.

“They were playing video games” she assured, having finally realised what she had said.

“Oh thank the gods” my mom said, letting out a sigh of relief.

“In all fairness, Clairabell and I can multitask” I happily informed both of them.

“Alexander, shut up, you are 18, I do not need grandchildren from you yet!”

I laughed at my mom's discomfort, before noticing that a little girl with red hair had wandered up next to her. She was dressed similarly to mom but her dress was a light blue color and the only gold she had on was a pair of golden sandals and a few ringlets on her wrist.

“There’s my girl” our mom happily said, kneeling down to greet my sister, “all ready to go Fiona?”

With half awake eyes Fiona nodded with assurance, doing her best to stay awake. She promptly fell forward having to be caught by our mom.

“Oh sweetheart” mom said, giving Fiona a worried look, “maybe you should stay here.”

“No thank you.”

“She can stay here for the day” Skyes mom stated, “she can take a nap in Luke and Ninas room.”

“That should be fine” mom happily answered before turning back to the little red head, “how about playing with Luke and Nina today?”

“I will later” Fiona stubbornly stated, “I wanna go.”

“Fiona, you can’t be falling asleep though.”

“I won’t, I promise!”

“Honestly” I interjected, “she should be fine coming along. Unless she’s sick or something.”

Lifting her up  by her armpits I held my little sister up in the air.

“You ain’t getting sick on me are ya?”

“No,” Fiona said with a smile.

“Ain’t gonna throw up?”

With this question I tossed the seven year old up into the air, making her laugh like, well like a seven year old.

“Yeah she’s good” I assured our mother, as I still held Fiona.

“ . . .Is Skye ever this stubborn” my mom asked Skyes mom?

“I’m glad she’s not,” she answered, putting her gardening tools away, “makes it easier when I tell her to get rid of things like that.”

She pointed to the pegasus made of water which Skye had created last night in the arcade bathroom.

Like a good healthy horsey, Raindrop had grown in size and was now bigger than your average horse.  

“What” I protested, “you can’t have her get rid of Raindrop! It’s a sweet fragile creature who just wants your love, and understanding, and it just ate a squirrel.”

The clear blue pegasus glared at us as a fluffy brown tail hung from its mouth. 

It slowly backed away out of sight, never breaking eye contact with me specifically. Guess I have a new friend.

“See you later Trinna” mom said, taking Fiona from me and protectively holding her.

And with that, Skyes mom went over to put her tools away and mine started hurrying us over to our house.

“Do you two have everything,” mom asked as she pulled her keys out from her dress pocket.

“Yep” Fiona and I assured her at the same time.

She gives us a smile and a nod before turning to the door into our home and sliding a small golden key inside of the lock.

With a twist of the knob our front door opened up to a brightly lit bridge filled with people, either walking or riding in horse drawn carriages, dressed similarly to mom and Fiona. Far into the distance, at the end of the bridge, was a city built on top of several mountains, the rising sun illuminating the white marble buildings against a still mostly dark sky.

“Woow” I cheered, stretching my arms over my head, “fun trip, honestly the ride up is always the best part.”

“Alex” mom said, closing the door behind us, “what did I say about being a smartass?”

“Go ahead but don’t do it when we’re about to see family.”

“Exactly, and what are we about to do?”

“Visit people you hate?”

Mom lowered her eyes at me, giving me an irritated look.

“I’ll be good in front of grandma” I promised, crossing my fingers behind my back.

With a sigh, my mom locked the door we went through, causing it to sink into the ground and vanish.

“You ain't slick boy.”

I shrugged, perfectly content with my underwhelming slickness, before placing my fingers in my mouth.

Blowing into them, a loud whistle echoed out and the ground beneath us began to shake as a large hole filled with black mud spilled open. Never mind the fact that we were currently on a bridge thousands of miles in the air so a hole like that should just lead down into, well, death.

Speaking of death.

From the black mud, bone white hands started to rise from its murky depths, and latched onto the marble pavement of the bridge. Slowly, four skeletons pulled themselves out, black mud dripping down their skulls and off the dusty dark blue suits they all wore.

Each one had “eyes” of green fire and looked almost identical to each other, with the only difference being a colored rose each wore in the pocket of their suit. Red, yellow, black, and white.

These were my skeletons. Expertly trained, well mannered, professional, cold blooded, and above all else dependable. . . was not what they were.

As the yellow rose stumbled out behind white rose it fell forward, knocking into the latter.

Naturally, White rose raised it’s boney hand and slapped yellow in the face, the rattling of their teeth being loud enough for everyone to hear.

Steadying its skull, yellow turned to white, their flaming eyes lighting up with a dark green as they clutched their coworkers arm and tore it off.

White looked down at its empty sleeve hanging limply to its side while yellow pointed at them with their missing arm, the bouncing flames in its eye sockets indicating that they were laughing.

The flames in whites skull promptly erupted, smoke billowing out of them, as they tackled yellow to the ground.

Smoke and dust covered the ground as white and yellow punched and tore at each other, the latter using the former's arm to slap them in the face. Black rose stumbled forward, attempting to separate them only to be met with a flame shooting up and catching onto their new tie which instantly lit up and was reduced to ash.

Enraged at this insult to not only themselves but also high fashion Black leaped onto the two other skeletons. Red followed suit by elbow dropping all three and joining the pile as they all slapped, bit, hit, and spanked each other.

“. . . Alex, seriously” mom stated, “are you sure you don’t want new servants?”

“Naw” I answered, happily watching these boneheads wrestle, “these guys are perfect.”

Clapping my hands the hole began to bubble again, the bridge shaking even more, as a horse drawn carriage shot out of it like a bullet from the chamber and tore through the four skeletons who all fell to the ground in pieces.

The Carriage was a dark black color, large and round in shape, it looked like something a goth Cinderella would ride inorder to get to the ball and marry a guy she danced with once who only remembered her because he had a thing for feet. There was a bright gold trim on the sides that glowed brightly against the night sky. The wheels were also a gold color with human skulls adorned on the rims and green flames sparking up here and there.

 Attached to the carriage was a horse with pitch black fur with a tail and main glowing with bright green fire. It's onix black eyes surveyed its surroundings making sure there was no enemy nearby as it stomped the marble ground with its strong hooves, small flames lighting up under them as it did so.

“Horsey” Fiona yelled happily as she waved at my helpful stead.

“Hey there Mare,” I said, walking up to her, “how are you doing girl?”

As I reached out to give her a pet on the neck, Mare angrily recoiled and gave me a loud snort. 

“What? No, I didn’t forget about you.”

She neyad loudly, shaking her head from side to side.

“Of course I call you when I need a ride. You’re my horse.”

Stamping the ground, Mare continued to argue, angrily naying and shaking her main.

“Oh that is not fair! It is not my fault that you decided to wreck the neighbors lawn and eat their cat!”

She chattered her teeth and huffed again.

“Look if we had a stable I would absolutely keep you in the backyard but-.”

Mare interjected with a loud inhuman yell as she reared up on her hind legs.

“Oh you don’t bring my bike into this! He is a good boy!”

She landed and shook her head violently.

“Yes it’s a he!”

“Alex” mom said, the now reformed skeletons helping her and Fiona into the carriage, “I know you want her to stay at the house, but it’s not happening. Can we please go?”

“Yeah sure” I answered her.

As she entered the carriage I reached into my little pocket space and pulled out a nice orange carrot for Mare.

“Sorry girl, we’ll convince her somehow.”

She neighed understandingly before happily taking the root vegetable from my hands.

“To the stadium” I yelled at Red as he readied the reins, yellow sitting next to him with treats and a whip in hand. Black and White clung to the back, White still glaring at Yellow with murderous intent, as I swung myself into the inside of it.

As soon as the door was shut we were off, Yellow cracking their whip in the air as Red made sure Mare stayed on course. 

Unlike the black of the carriages outer shell, the seating was a velvet red with enough room to fit six people. The soft upholstery was comfortable and warm to the touch with cushions that made sure you could relax even during the bumpiest of rides.

Naturally, Fiona almost immediately fell asleep, her head resting comfortably on moms lap.

“Hey, she stayed awake longer than usual.”

“Honestly I’m surprised by that” mom said, brushing Fionas hair to the side, “she never gets enough sleep when we have to come up here. I wish she’d stay at home some times, it’s not healthy for a little girl to be up this early.”

“You know that would just cause gran to start whining.”

“If your grandmother really wants to see her she can suck it up and come visit the house.”

“Oh come now, you don’t expect her to live the disgraceful life of staying in a five bedroom, three bath, basement and attic house do you?”

“Well, in all fairness, she’d probably make the neighbors hate us more than they already do.”

We both chuckled a little at Grandmas expense, knowing she probably wouldn’t enjoy hearing this stuff in person. She can be kind of sensitive and natural disaster causing.

Leaning against the door I rested my head on  the window and watched as we rolled past the people walking along the bridge, none of them batting an eye at the carriage driven by four skeletons and drawn by a hell horse. In all fairness compared to the massive skyscrapers in the mountain, the rulers of the city control nature itself, and the fact we can all  breathe despite the altitude, probably making our little vihicall about as interesting as an ant carrying food ten times its size. A neat site but nothing mind blowing.

Granted, ants are pretty mind blowing if you put into perspective how they basically work to create a suitable environment for their colony with everyone having their assigned roles thus allowing them to work as fulfilling members of ant society. 

That being said, this type of government is very totalitarian all things considered so there must be a widespread outbreak of ant uprisings which most likely are quilled by the ants in black suits. You can say they’re not real, but we all know they’re out there.

“So” mom said, interrupting my deep and meaningful inner monologue about ants and ant related conspiracy, “should we talk about what’s been bothering you?”

I sighed and sat up in my seat.

“Oh you know, normal stuff.”

“Define normal for you?”

“Giant monsters, universal travel, blood sucking girlfriend who wants my socially awkward best friend to move into a dorm with her while she’s too scared to say no, oh and a new rpg came out that I am just dying to play.”

“Aw, is my little boy having girl trouble?”

“What can I say, I’m just a modern day Casanova. On a related note, my Italian is getting better.”

Mom rolled her eyes, a smile still on her face as she let out a chuckle.

“Well Giacomo, care to tell your loving mother about your, um, socially awkward blood sucking best girlfriend issue?”

“Blood sucking girlfriend and socially awkward best friend” I corrected, “also, one can summon horses.”

She blinked a bit then sighed.

“I really should have set you up on more play dates with normal kids when you were little.”

“Aw, but if you did that you wouldn’t have met Skyes mom.”

“I don’t mind Skye, reminds me of your dad, kind of. The blood sucking girlfriend is the one I have issues with.”

“Oh Clair isn’t that bad. Plus, if I remember right, you’re partially the one who arranged for me and her dating.”

Mom shrugged at my statement.

“It was either that or have her daddy demand your head on a spike. Now, talk.”

“Dang, knew you weren’t gonna let the issue go.”

I rubbed my neck, feeling a little awkward talking about my friends with my mom. She had more on her plate to deal with other than my personal drama. But, I guess I don’t feel that bad.

“Clairabell has been looking into her and Skye going to college together, and I’m pretty sure Skye doesn’t want to go. But, neither of them are talking about it so, yeah, not really sure what to do.”

Yep, even to me that sounds like a dumb problem that could be easily solved if we all just sat and talked it out. And, based on the look mom was giving me, she probably felt the same.

“Ok” she eventually said, “and in what way is that your problem?”

“Huh?”

“Alex, that has nothing to do with you. They’re both big girls, they can work out their problems.”

I blinked in surprise.

“Well, I mean, they’re my friends, so. . .”

“So what?”

“So, I want to help them.”

She shook her head disapprovingly at my response, her dark brown hair bouncing a little as she did.

“Alexander, I get that you love them, but their problems are not yours to solve, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“I, I guess. But-”

“No buts.”

She narrowed her eyes a little, making it clear that this wasn’t a subject we were going to argue on.

“You have work, and your sister, and your own issues to deal with.”

I felt my stomach slowly drop more and more as she spoke and reminded me of how stupid my worries were.

She was right after all, Skye not telling Clairabell how she felt, and Clairabell not wanting to listen, those were not my problems.

But, still. . .

I went back to looking out the chariot window, watching as the pavement of the bridge slid by as we drove in silence.

Well, we did for a few minutes, then I felt mom poke me repeatedly on the cheek.

“Oi” she said with each poke, “oi, oi, oi!”

I smiled and looked up, finding my mom leaning forward with a bag of gold coins dangling from her fingertips.

She gave me a warm smile and dropped the coins into my lap.

“Quit pouting, you’re gonna make me feel like a bad mom.”

“Aw, you’re not a bad mom” I responded, opening the bag and eyeing the coin, “I’m just really good at making people feel guilty. This is chocolate isn’t it?”

“Boy, you get paid a fortune a year, you don’t need real gold.”

“I ain’t complaining.”

I smiled and started unwrapping a coin to enjoy the snack, before handing a few back to mom.

“Here” I said, dropping them into her hand, “Fiona loves these too.”

“Yeah, that’s why I got her her own bag. These are yours.”

“Then I guess we’ll call it an offering to a good mom.”

She let out an amused laugh.

“Gods, why is my youngest son so cheesy?”

“No idea” I told her, chomping down on the delectable coin, “I personally blame it on Television and video games for giving good moral lessons.”

She sighed, but still smiled.

“You are such a dork.

Mom went back to watching Fiona sleep and we rode into the city in silence for a bit.

“Honestly” she eventually said, “I’m glad you’re such a good kid, but it wouldn’t hurt you to worry about yourself more.”

“Yeah” I responded, understanding what she meant, if only a little bit.

I pulled out another chocolate coin and sat it in between my cupped pointer finger and thumb before flicking my thumb up and giving the coin a good flip and catching it in my palm.

“Hey, maybe I should act like the old man more?”

I gave mom a wide smile at this statement and she responded by rolling her eyes.

“Alex” she said, “if you start acting like the old man just remember that I dictate your living arrangements.”

“Aw” I teased, trying to lighten the tension, “not a fan of selfish people?”

“Being selfish is fine. He’s just a disrespectful asshole. Never cared for those.”

“If that were true you would have thrown me out years ago.”

“You’re just disrespectful. The assholeness is currently being debated.”

“Aw, that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”

“Oh shut up Alex.”

Despite her words she had a smile on her face.

Eventually, we pulled into the city.

The street lights illuminated our way as we walked through the busy streets filled with people of all races and sizes and other worldly species in togas. Despite how early it was the city was still bustling and busy as if it were early afternoon.

Shops filled with exautic items lined the streets next to fancy restaurants and stores filled with fancy clothes that normal people could never hope to own. As we went deeper in, the clothing people wore became more elaborate and extravagant almost as if they were trying to make themselves match the streets paved with literal gold.

“Did dad say they could use his gold?”

“No and I am still trying to get them to give it back. Honestly, their taste is just tacky.”

“I feel I need to point out that we decorate our house with bones and diamonds.”

“Alex, that is a theme. It might be tacky, but it makes sense. This is just a bunch of people showing off how rich they are. Besides, Pluton is in charge of decorating.”

“Way to blame your son for the way the house looks Ma.”

“I blame all my children for everything. Didn’t you figure that out already?”

“I was in denial.”

We joked around a little more as we eventually rode deeper into the city.

It was a nice summer morning even here, with birds of all kinds singing joyful tunes and plants you wouldn’t normally see together decorating the parks and sidewalks.

Mount Olympus, the rich neighborhood to end all rich neighborhoods. 

While we continued our stroll, I was content to rest against the side of the cart, daydreaming until we arrived at grandmas. At least, until, the chariot pulled to a sudden stop with a jerky motion and Mare let out a loud whine.

“Oi” Mom yelled, slapping the roof, “why’d we stop?”

In response Red poked his head in, by holding it in his hand and putting it through the open window.

His teeth chattered and he let out a gargling hiss to inform us of why we had stopped.

Mom sighed and slouched in her seat, Fiona still in her lap.

“Then just kill them.”

“Mom, no.”

“Alex, they started it.”

“Yeah but we can’t just murder all of our problems.”

“You sure” she said, hopefully jokingly, “the old man seems to solve a lot of his problems that way. Of course, it does make your fathers work stack up so I’m a little pissed about that.”

“How about I go deal with them?” I said, opening the door, “give daddy less paperwork?”

“Carefull, they might cause you to develop some humility.”

“No worries about that happening. I’ll be done in like, I don’t know, two, three minutes. Meet you at grandmas. Oh, I missed the step. . .”

She groaned with annoyance as her handsome, awesome, super smart son fell out of the carriage and onto the dirt of Olympus.

“Way to jump to the rescue there superman” she chimed.

I chuckled a little as I layed on the ground, before turning my head to the right and spotting the roadblocks that stood in Mares way.

“Hi” I happily said to the tall man wearing a dark blue tank top. He had a rather annoyed look on his soft face, with his ocean green eyes glaring at me and his large, muscular, arms crossed over his chest.

His dark blue hair was slicked back and had a slight gleam to it while a few scales decorated his broad shoulders and a gold belt encrusted with gems of all shapes and sizes held his gray and white camouflage pants up.

By his side were two rather younger men who looked to be either twins or clones of each other. My personal experience has told me to bet on the latter, but you can never be too sure.

They both wore back basketball shorts and red shirts to go along with their messy strawberry blonde hair. Only way to tell that they weren’t completely identical were their eyes; both of which glowed unatrually like the brights of a car, but while the one on the left had shining baby blues, the gent on the left glared at me with dark red irises. Not blood red, more like a wine red.

Just like with the big bad in the middle, I noticed a few fish-like scales running along their necks and half way down their arms. 

“Yo” the blue hair in the middle yelled at me, “are you going to get off the ground or what?”

“Naw” I responded, still sprawled on the ground, “the road feels good on my back.”

“Get off the ground Alex” Mom demanded from the carriage.

“So what can I do for you?” I asked while standing up, “directions, a ride maybe?”

“All we require is your head on a spike” the blue haired one responded. He took a boxer's pose and silver metal slowly started molding around his hands, appearing from nowhere I could see, until he was wearing two silver gauntlets with spiked knuckles.

“Sorry, can’t exactly do that seeing how I currently need my head. Mind me asking why you would want it though mate?”

“Hey” red eyes shouted, “he ain’t your mate guy!”

“Well then I ain’t your guy friend!”

“He ain’t your friend buddy,” the blue eyed one shouted at me.

“Well then I’m not his buddy mate!”

“He’s not your mate guy!”

“Then I’m not his guy friend!”

“I’m leaving now” mom stated, closing the carriage door, “meet us at grandmas okay?”

“Ok mom” I responded, waving them off.

“I’m not your mom dude” Blue eyes shouted.

“He’s not your dude pal” Red eyes shouted back.

“Seth, Joey” blue hair said, his head in his hand, “please stop.”

The three stepped out of the way, blue hair forcing Seth and Joey to bow their heads as mom passed in the sable steed drawn carriage before they took their spots in front of me again.

“Now, draw your weapon!”

Blue hair took his stance once more, their eyes narrowed at me.

“. . .Why?”

“Be-because I’m challenging you.”

“Ok but why are you challenging me?”

“Because!”

“Because why?”

“Because, shut up, draw your blade!”

“Blade as in vampire character?”

“Vampire? Your sword!”

“But I don’t use a sword.”

“Then your spear!”

“I don’t wanna draw my spear, honestly, I’m not the best artest.”

Blue hair looked ready to leap at me and scream at the top of their lungs while strangling my handsome neck.

I’m having a lot of fun.

He takes a deep breath and slowly calms down.

“Okay” they said, “please, please, get any weapons you might own, hold it in your hands, and fight me with them.”

“Ohhh! Ok, why didn’t you just say so?”

I could literally hear the last straw on blue hairs, patients breaking as they once more took a boxers pose, their eyes narrowed at me.

“My name is Markis, Muto, Reads, son of Poesidon and Pirate queen of the Caribbean Martha Reads!”

Yep, saw that one coming.

Guess good ol uncky Poesidon is still upset that I stabbed him in the face for unspecified reasons oh so long ago (last Tuesday).

“Alright Mark ma boy” I told him holding my arms up to the sky, “guess we can have a quick play date.”

Slowly, a leather strap materialized on my right arm and a thunderous roar echoed out as dark clouds gathered above us. 

Splitting through the black clouds a golden shield slammed into my arm and attached to the leather strap with a click.

I felt electricity flow out of my body and into the metal of my golden shield that was the size of my body, the aegis.

“My name’s Zee” I told Mark, adjusting aegis to be in front of me, “bastard of Zeus, and. . .”

I held my other hand towards the ground, palm opened, feeling the dirt beneath give way.

In a flash a black and gold two pronged spear emerged and pushed against my palm as I wrapped my fingers around it.

Casually, I pointed my bident at Mark to show him I was ready.

“Son of Hades.”

[avengerofyourheart]

Flour Girl {11} (Bucky x reader AU)

Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy).

Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)

Warnings: none! Mild swearing?

Word Count:  3.8k

A/N: Hmmm. What do you think? Can she trust him in her kitchen?? I guess we’ll find out right now!! :D And I won’t apologize for inevitably making hungry OR for my love of The Beatles. That’s just how it is. ;) I love you guys! Hope you enjoy this part! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! <3

<<Part 10   Part 11   Part 12>> 

Flour Girl Series Masterlist

Full Masterlist

_____________________________________________________

Previously:

“Do you want some help?” 

Choking on your words, you nearly went catatonic at his offer. 

“What?” you finally squeaked out. 

He talked slower with a genuine smile. “I’m offering my help. I mean, I’m a fair baker and at the very least, an extra set of hands. Plus, you get to boss me around for a while. So, what do you say?”

_______________

A bubble of laughter traveled up your throat and then burst past your lips upon hearing the absurdity of his words.

“You can’t be serious,” you giggled, trying to control yourself. It might have been the sleep deprivation and exhaustion but somehow hearing Jimmy offer his help to you was the funniest thing you’d ever heard.

Jimmy, the heir apparent of your competitor. Jimmy, who had been a constant thorn in your side since you met. Jimmy, who claimed you were doomed to fail within the first year. Unbelievable. Clearly, it was all a joke.

“Y/N, I am completely serious,” he said with a furrowed brow. “I have no doubt that you could do it all on your own, but you shouldn’t have to,” Jimmy spoke sternly now.

Swallowing your laughter, you took a deep breath and really looked at the man before you now. There was no hint of joking in his features. He really meant what he said. Jimmy was here late at night, just to…help you?

“Why?” you demanded. “Why would you help me? I thought you were determined to run me out of business, wouldn’t my failure tonight be part of your plan?”

Jimmy shifted on his feet and slipped both hands in his jeans pockets. “No. I never wanted that. Look, I’m sorry about my past behavior, but I’m here now and I’m willing to help if you’ll let me,” he offered sincerely, once again.

“Really? You’re sure you want to spend your night in this mess?” you doubtfully asked while walking back toward the kitchen with Jimmy following in tow.

“I’m sure it’s not that—whoa.” Jimmy began to protest but then stopped short with eyes wide to see the state of your kitchen.

The past few hours had been a flurry of butter and flour and sugar, now with multiple recipes only partially finished. You had tried to maximize your time by using multiple mixers and weighing all the flour for each recipe, but in reality it had just split your attention. Now there was a mess on every surface and you felt like the small kitchen looked like the inside of your scattered brain.

Currently, you had cinnamon roll dough rising, so while you waited, you creamed some butter and sugar for cookies and also had just pulled croissant dough from the fridge to roll out with butter softening on the counter for tart dough. The idea of having a second pair of hands was appealing, but you didn’t like having anyone in your kitchen, much less someone you didn’t trust.

Jimmy surveyed the kitchen for a moment and then took deep breath. “Okay. How can I help? Do you have a spare apron?” he asked you, expectantly.

Eyeing him carefully, you crossed both arms over your chest, most likely getting flour on your shirt. It was futile trying to stay clean at this point.

“You honestly want to help me, Jimmy? Really?” you questioned his motives once again.

Jimmy huffed out a sigh and then leveled you with a steady gaze. “Y/N, yes, I want to help you. I have never been more sure in my life,” he spoke in an overtly confident tone.

Biting your lip, you looked around at your multiple projects and then back at Jimmy. “If you sabotage me in any way or steal my recipes or anything like that, I swear I will—“

“Whoa! I would never—“

He broke off at the look of worry in your eyes, so he tried a different approach. Placing his left hand on your KitchenAid standing mixer on the table, Jimmy then raised his right hand up by his head.

Directly meeting your gaze, he spoke. “I, James Buchanan Barnes, promise to never sabotage anything in regards to your business. I will never steal any recipe, reveal any sort of technique, or any other secrets that are revealed this night. I promise all of the above as a member of the baking community and on my life as a rehabilitating asshole, so help me God,” he finished his oath and then let out a grin.

After that bit of ridiculousness, you had a difficult time holding back a smile of your own. He was officially crazy, but finally you relented. “Okay, fine. There’s an apron hanging behind you.”

Jimmy let out a holler of victory before grabbing the apron and tying it around his waist with that wide grin still on his stupid, handsome face. “Alright, so what can I do, boss?”

You smiled and shook your head at that. “Don’t call me that. Even Wanda rarely does. Um…okay, so that mixer has the butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla mixing for cookies. The dry ingredients are next to it, so if you could add that to the bowl, mix, and then scrape really well with that rubber spatula, I’ll get you the chocolate chunks and pistachios.”

The brunet raised his eyebrows at the mention of those last ingredients, but he said nothing and merely followed your instructions. While he mixed that, you rolled out the croissant dough, folded it in thirds and wrapped it up before putting it back in the fridge. Your cinnamon roll dough was ready then, so you tossed some flour on the table and dumped out your yeasty dough with a cathartic punch to release the air bubbles.

Once Jimmy had the cookie dough ready, you paused a short minute to show him the correct size scoop and how closely you wanted to cookies to be on the pan. Otherwise, he focused on his own task and left you to your work. After spreading the cinnamon mixture and sprinkling the pecans, you began to roll the dough into a spiral as Jimmy watched, seemingly transfixed.

“That looks and smells amazing,” he said, breaking the silence.

“One of my top sellers,” you replied proudly, “and a personal favorite of mine, too.”

“I bet,” he said, practically salivating.

You felt a swell of accomplishment in your chest as you grabbed a serrated knife to cut each roll to size. “So,” you began slowly, making an attempt at conversation. “I kind of figured that Jimmy was short for James, but Buchanan? Are your parents really big fans of the 15th US President?” you teased.

Jimmy let out a burst of laughter. “Something like that. Actually…only my dad calls me Jimmy,” he confessed.

Your brow furrowed, confused. “Clint does, too, I thought…”

“Yeah, I know. My dad set it up so I’d be the one picking up the paperwork and then later delivering to the Nest that first day. It’s been my dad’s nickname for me since I was little so he introduced me to Clint as Jimmy over the phone and I just went along with it. I don’t mind, but I really prefer Bucky,” he finished with a smile.

Pausing in your actions a moment, you took that information in. “Bucky, huh?” Interesting.

“Short for Buchanan…”

“Yeah, I got that,” you rolled your eyes with a grin. “Okay, then. So, tell me, Bucky: do you like the Beatles?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide with alarm alarm, to your surprise. “What? I mean…yeah. I like some of their songs,” he mumbled, looking down at the dough before him.

“Great! Because they’ve kind of become my preferred music when I just need to get in the zone and get things done, you know?” you told him as you selected a particular album on your outdated iPod touch, then connecting it to the nearby speakers.

You had specific, appropriate playlists for the public when the shop was open, but you liked to use Spotify through your iPod when working by yourself. It also helped save your phone’s battery so you didn’t mind using the older device. You needed something to wake you up this late at night and singing along with the Fab Four was just the ticket.  

Pressing a button, the album “1” began to play. It was a compilation of The Beatles’ number one hits, so it contained most of their popular, well-known songs. It didn’t have all your favorites, but quite a few. The album was on shuffle, just to keep you on your toes, so when “Ticket to Ride” began to play, you bobbed your head to the beat. Turning back toward the wooden work table, you started to clean up from cinnamon rolls so you could switch gears and start decorating.

Just as you were pulling out your cakes to decorate, Jim--no, Bucky—announced he was finished with scooping the cookies. Wow. He was fast, which shouldn’t have shocked you. Taking a leap of faith, you handed him the recipe for tart dough and pointed out where he could find the ingredients. With only a question or two, he was on his way and you were able to focus on your cakes.

Not long after, Bucky simply asked what to do with the tart dough, so you pointed out the small tart shell pans and asked him to spray them with pan release and press a certain amount of dough into each one. You liked to bake a dozen or so to have on hand so you could fill them with any type of filling when needed. Returning to your cakes, you had just finished building the 8” chocolate with three layers of cake and fresh raspberry filling in the middle. You spread the freshly-made chocolate buttercream over the top and sides with a spatula and then spun the cake stand swiftly to smooth out the sides with a flat edge.

Lost in your own little world, you began to softly sing along with the current song playing.

“...we can work it out

we can work it out

Life is very short, and there’s no time

For fussing and fighting, my friend

I have always thought that it’s a crime

So I will ask you once again

Try to see it my way…”

Stepping over to the microwave, you slid in a small glass bowl of ganache and hit the button for 30 seconds. You danced in place a little, mostly to stretch your muscles and kill time until the microwave dinged. Pulling out the ganache, you stirred it with your spatula and turned back to the table, feeling eyes on you.

Bucky had apparently seen your little show and shared a smile.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He looked away with a shrug. “Nothing. What’s that you warmed up?”

“Dark chocolate Ganache. They wanted a ‘Death by Chocolate’ vibe, so that’s what they’re gonna get,” you replied while tilting the bowl of liquid-y chocolate over the cake.

Setting the bowl aside, you grabbed your spatula and slowly caused the cake stand to spin while gently pushing the pool of ganache to the edge of the cake, allowing small rivulets to drizzle down the sides of the cake. It was a simple technique, but never failed to impress. You finished the cake with a star-tip border around the bottom and then once the ganache dried, you added the red buttercream roses as well as piping the words “Happy Birthday” on top.

Stepping back to survey your work, you glanced over at Bucky who was openly staring with his mouth gaping slightly.

Giving the cake a slow spin, you asked his opinion. “How does it look?”

“It’s, uh…wow. You made that look so easy. It looks amazing,” he finally replied.

Beaming slightly, you shrugged. “Practice. How are those tart shells looking?”

Bucky glanced down at the dough in his hand. “I’m on the last one. Do you want them baked next?”

“Yes, for 13 minutes,” you instructed. “And then are you up for filling croissants?”

“Always,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

You let out a small chuckle. “Okay. I have some triangles already cut and I’ll show you how to fill them.”

Soon, tart shells were in the oven, Bucky had his instructions with the croissants, both sweet and savory, and you focused on the second cake. This was a 6” with 2 layers of lemon cake with a fresh lemon curd filling and Swiss buttercream rosettes on the outside. As you were placing the second layer of cake on top of the filling, Bucky spoke up.

“So, why the Beatles? Not criticism, just curious,” he quickly added the second part, probably to avoid any wrath from you. He must have picked up on your love for the Boys from Liverpool.

“Um…I grew up listening to them, I guess. My mom liked to play their old vinyl records when I was little, especially in the kitchen while she cooked and baked. I liked to help out, so I have that strong memory attached to their songs. She passed away when I was in high school and it made me sad to hear them for a while, but then I decided to carry on the tradition and play them here. Kind of feels like my mom is still around when I bake,” you finished, not realizing how personal that was to share. Nervously, you glanced his way, but Bucky had a soft, sympathetic expression upon his face, which caught you off guard.

He finally broke the silence. “That’s a good memory to have,” he spoke gently, then offering his condolences. “I’m sorry.”

You just smiled sadly. “Thank you.”

Another quiet moment before Bucky shifted the subject slightly. “This is probably a hard question to answer, but…what’s your favorite Beatles song?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Laughing, you turned toward the music and pressed a button on your iPod. “Actually, it’s not a difficult question, but the answer might not be what you expected…” you trailed off as stringed instruments began to play.

“Ah, look at all the lonely people. Ah, look at all the lonely people

Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been,

Lives in a dream, Waits at the window

wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door

Who is it for?

All the lonely people, where do they all come from?

All the lonely people, where do they all belong?”

Bucky spoke up during the second verse. “Whoa. Yeah, that’s…not what I was expecting. Most would say ‘Hey, Jude’ or ‘Help!’. That one’s kinda depressing. Can I ask why it’s your favorite?” he asked respectfully.

You giggled lightly. “I know it’s unusual. I love the orchestrations, first of all. The stringed instruments just convey so much emotion on their own, you know? And the lyrics…wow. Yeah, they can seem depressing, but that’s kind of the point. Eleanor Rigby seems to spend her time alone and that comment about ‘wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door’? Definitely strange, but I always imagined it’s like the masks we tend to put up when we step outside the comfort of our home, you know? We all hide parts of ourselves around people,” you kept talking, your eyes trained on the cake in front of you.

One side of the cake was giving you a little trouble with cake visible through the buttercream, to your annoyance. Bucky was silent, so you just scooped more buttercream on your spatula and continued on.

“As for Father Mackenzie, he was there the whole time, probably even in the same church. Two lonely people who could have connected and felt a little less lonely. Where do they come from? Where do they belong? How do you cure loneliness? By connecting with others. They were like ships passing in the night, neither reaching out when they could have. Eleanor didn’t have any family, hence the phrase ‘buried along with her name, nobody came’. Only Father Mackenzie was at her funeral and by then it was too late,” you said with a sad shake of your head. “I don’t know. It’s a somber song, but it helps remind me to reach out to others and make those connections. Is that weird?” you asked, finally looking up.

Bucky was staring again with a smile, his hand paused on a croissant mid-roll. He blinked, realizing you had asked a question. “Um…yeah, I guess it’s a little weird, but it also makes sense. I can honestly say I’ve never put that much thought into a song, but…I like it. Human connection, yeah,” he answered, almost in awe. Or possibly in a daze from your long-winded explanation.

“Anyway,” you shook off that heavy subject, “do you have a favorite Beatles song?”

He looked off into the distance for a moment and then seemed to come up with an answer. Brushing his hands on his apron, he walked over to where your iPod was. “May I?”

“Sure.”

Putting his back to you, Bucky spent a few seconds scrolling on the iPod before stepping away. “Might not be what you’d expect either…” Bucky teased as he washed his hands.

A few notes played before a voice began to sing, but to your surprise it was female. Looking his way in confusion, you listened on a moment before you recognized the song and also where it came from.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you something

I think you’ll understand.

When I say that something

I wanna hold your hand…”

“This is from the movie ‘Across the Universe’, right?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. I like the original, but this cover always hit me harder. I like that it’s slower, like a ballad, and the emotion the actress puts into every word…I don’t know. I like it,” he offered with a shrug.

“Me, too,” you replied with a similar smile. “It’s great movie. I think the actors sang live, which is pretty cool.”

“They did, yeah,” Bucky echoed before you both fell into a comfortable silence as the song played on.

As the song ended, you waited to see what would pop up next as you put the finishing touches on your lemon cake. A male voice began to sing quietly, a cappella at first.

“Something in the way she moves attracts me like no other lover

Something in the way she woos me

I don’t wanna leave her now, You know I believe and how

You’re asking me, will my love grow?

I don’t know, I don’t know…”

“I like this one, too,” Bucky softly interrupted.

You smiled. “Same here.”

The rest of the movie’s soundtrack played on with occasional comments from both of you. Remarks about how the Beatles must have been on drugs while writing at least a few of the songs. “I Am the Walrus”, for sure. “Across the Universe” was a good contender, but you both enjoyed it anyway. “For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” was definitely an acid trip. There were so many good, solid songs, though and your mind reflected on those scenes from the movie with fondness as they played.  

Time passed by swiftly without you realizing, but finally, you were finishing an order of cupcakes while Bucky filled the last few croissants and you were done. Or as prepared as you felt you could be for the next day. After putting everything away, you took a deep breath and felt more on top of your to-do list, partly in thanks to the man who unexpectedly came to your aid. You both shared in the cleaning and Bucky even helped with the mound of dirty dishes, leaving them out to air dry.

All in all, the night turned out to be not so bad. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you might have even enjoyed your time with Bucky. Quickly, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. It was a little after 1am as you stepped out into the late night air with Bucky beside you. The rain had stopped by then, leaving behind that fresh, earthy scent you loved. Locking the door, you turned slowly toward Bucky, feeling a hint of awkwardness.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you finally met his eye, “for your help. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied, glancing down at the rain-soaked pavement. “It was actually kinda fun. Thanks for letting me help out. I know you prefer to do it all on your own, but it never hurts to ‘get by with a little help from [your] friends’,” he said with a wink, quoting the Beatles.

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped you and he joined in.

Bucky spoke as the laughter subsided. “So…can I walk you home? Or the subway? Not the worst neighborhood, but still…”

Chuckling under your breath at that offer, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Sure. Follow me,” you answered, walking the ten feet to the bottom of the stairs and then climbing to the top. Reaching the door and standing on the highest step, you turned around to see a bewildered Bucky. “This is me. Right there,” you pointed to the window your apartment that was directly above the bakery.

Bucky laughed. “Well, that’s convenient. Um…okay. Have a good night, Y/N,” he said in parting before descending a few steps.

“Bucky?” you called out and he stopped to turn your way. “Why did you help me tonight? Be honest with me.”

Placing one hand on the stone railing, Bucky seemed to take a moment to consider his answer. “Because…I heard you the other day. You’re right, I had no idea what your life is like and I probably still don’t, but after tonight I feel like I have the smallest of ideas and...you’re like a superhero. Owning your successful business with only one employee and all of your pastries are amazing, plus those cakes are a work of art. You seriously do it all, mostly on your own and I admire that,” he replied earnestly, then asking a surprising question. “Do you really unclog toilets?”

Feeling embarrassment creep into your face from the question as well as the unexpected praise, you nodded. “Yup. I’m the superintendent of the building. The landlord gives me a discount on rent for the bakery in exchange for dealing with clogged toilets, among other things,” you shrugged, playing with the keys in your hand.

“Wow. Like I said...superhero. Anyway, I wanted to apologize again for being such an ass. I hope you can get at least get a few hours of sleep now,” Bucky said as he climbed down the last few steps. “See you around, Y/N.”

Bucky offered a wave and you watched him walk down the street for a moment, trying to reconcile the actions of this man who helped you for hours without asking for anything with the cocky jerk you met only a few weeks ago. Unlocking the door, you let yourself into your apartment and shut it behind you, heading immediately for the bedroom in an exhausted, confused haze.  

________________

Part 12>>  

_________________________________________________

Hooooooooly crap, you guys!!! I’ve had this whole chapter in my head for MONTHS and now I get to share it, finally!!! What did you think?? Maybe Bucky at least got his foot in the door with winning her over? Hmm. Would you forgive him seeing such a huge shift in his behavior? I’d love to know what you think of this part and what might happen next! ;) I adore you all and appreciate all of your comments and feedback. More coming Thursday! Also I finally posted a video recipe about making Filled Croissants! I’d love if you’d check it out. I have another already filmed and will be posted soon. ;) Love you guys! <3

Permanent Tag List and FG Tag List are CLOSED. 

Permanent Tags: 

@pietrotheavenger @thisismysecrethappyplace @part-time-patronus @feelmyroarrrr @ria132love  @interestedbystanderwrites @abovethesmokestacks @hymnofthevalkyrie @spideypnw @badassbaker @janeyboo @palaiasaurus64 @dustycelt @mylittlefandomfanfictions @officialcaptain-marvel @maryehudson @sebbytrash @bionic-buckyb @sebastianbarnesandchrisrogers @jaybird6232 @bemystucky @averyrogers83 @beccaanne814 @eyesofgoldenambers @missmotherhen @bunnieandcrow @mizzzpink @buckysberrie @imaginingbucky @deathbyarabbit @avengersandchill @timeladylaurel @indominusregina @queen-merc @vaisabu @1800-peggys-orange-lipstick @piensa-bonito @msshadowboxer @coffeeismylife28 @withahintofpestoaioli @cant-decide-at-this-moment @jaderbugz @blue1928 @jbarnes87 @whothehellisbella @captainrogerss @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @themcuhasruinedme @buckybarneshairpullingkink @ilovebeingjoyful @maririn @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt @girlwith100names @writingruna @lokiandbuckyaremine @hufflepuff-ish @pixierox101 @supernatural-girl97 @stay-wokke @airixaram @buckyssxxhair @buckys-newarm @lostinspace33 @poealsobucky @buckyofthemyscira @joannie95 @4theluvofall @im-a-light-child @1999yanira @escapetheshackles @lbouvet @black-eyed-bucky @finhabastos

FG tags: 

@yallneedtrek @lexie-mo  @flowercrownsandmetallicarms  @kingcarterprince @snuggleducky @acunningstargazer @zadyalyss @satans-knitting-club   @honey-bee-holly  @just-add-butter @captainradicalpassion @chook007 @peekingsunshine @odinhson @chrisevans1fan @fangirlwithasweettooth @angryteapot @srhls @jurassicbarnes @livingoffsavvyillusions @ahufflepuffbitch @sebbystanlover-vk @thisismyfriend-tree @susmita121 @fandom-addict-aesthetics @lowkeybuckyb @jitterbuck @lunarcajun @aligatorinavest @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @lilyblack78910 @uservalkyrie @hawaiiantozier @belledamsceno @lukeyasheycalymikey @nsfwfangirl