Sunday farmers market with my best friend

ᴺᴬᴺᴬᴹᴵ ᴷᴱᴺᵀᴼ ᴵᴺ

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it seems there is never an activity too lackluster or intimate for this couple to find pleasure in each other's company with their busy lives.

husband!nanami kento x wife fem!reader.

catalogue. fluff, slice of life content, non-sorcery au/ non-curse, modern au, salaryman!kento, sick & soft kento, (1) mentions of praise kink. wc: 1.95k thea’s preamble. inspired by this incredible art, i must admit i look at this at least once a day. → ✨ also this is my first published work, it's a bit rough but hopefully with time it gets better. thank u for reading <3

kento is a man of routine and order, we all knew that. he wakes up at a set time, kisses his beautiful sleeping wife, carries out his morning routine of showering and oral hygiene, dons his best suit, light breakfast, and is out the door by 8 AM. the evenings he returns home aren’t any less lax, whether he’s home at 6 PM on the dot or late by a few hours, he’ll always greet and kiss his beautiful wife, have dinner in his study whilst he continues more work while the lovely missus reads on the chaise or continues unfinished work of her own as well, then shower and oral hygiene, sleep. 

perhaps that was an oversimplification, but don’t be fooled one may think the man adopts and follows this lifestyle out of a need for security, financial or otherwise. or that he loves the unrelenting and perpetual cycle of working painstakingly 10-hour days, he certainly isn’t given highly-coveted tasks for being a slacker. he’s grateful for what the occupation provides, the salary and bonus that come with his overtime, to lavishly spoil his family, but that's all.

he has no ambition to climb the ladders that will put him in places he doesn't care to be, to rub elbows and kiss ass with scummy executives, leeches, and conceited thugs, only to trash talk and scheme against the moment he steps foot in his home.

all he asks is for saturdays and sundays, as they happen to be Kento’s favourite.

the days he has off from his draining 9-to-5, to be spent properly with his lovely wife. who was ever so patient with him, ever so supportive, and ever so his to love and cherish so as long as his body would allow him. even if his body was battered down to a pulp, he’d find alternatives as necessary, but let’s hope it never comes to that.

there would be times when not much would differ from the previous weekend, and well into the next, spent doing the same activities, or nothing at all. he never wanted to take for granted the time you spent together, and sometimes that meant not always making the most of those days, and he’s okay with that.

whether the two of you lazed in bed until the afternoon or spent a whole day cooking a feast completely from scratch, starters to dessert. visiting the farmers market to cook said feast, reading in your cozy home library, or even the sudden bouts of spring cleaning. 

there is always a welcome invite for spontaneity, a picnic under the stupendous aspen tree you simply adored at the local park. a quick overnight trip to a scenic and quaint town, whether your destination is reached by train, plane, automobile, or even boat. the occasional painting date has become a more frequent activity as of late. but there is one “special” activity that some might consider, unique. one that is relatively low cost, that is done from the comforts of your humble abode, that further advances the intimacy (according to kento), and is reserved solely for you, one that kento absolutely adored, shaving. 

usually, it was something he’d done alone after showers with either a rechargeable or disposable razor or by his barber when it came time for his bi-monthly hair trim. but recently it became a task that you’d undertake by kento’s request, sort of.

while you didn’t mind what would grow from a days of not shaving, he preferred maintaining a clean shave for the clean-cut classification for a man of his occupation, it also became supplemental to his hygiene routine that he grew to love.

it wasn’t something you saw often, kento so dishevelled with the most tragic undereye bags from the lack of sleep from what you’d think was months suffering from insomnia, condensed into a few days. a coarse stubble emerged from the days he’d spent in bed, and his nose was flushed with how often he’d been blowing it with the nearly empty box of tissues that was full just the night before. his eyes were dull and watering, a sight you truly hated. 

"honey, have you seen my hard drive?" he'd sorely asked for the 3rd time today, "it's in the laptop, kento." you called back, changing the towels in your bathroom.

he was delirious, with a runny nose and little to no comprehension of where he was or what day it was, thanks to the combination of flu medicine and kento’s determination to finish a work proposal whilst in bed, common sense would also call it overworking. despite your gentle commands that he needed rest, there was no triumph on your end, as duty calls. he was relentless, in his defense there was a conference that was meant to be held in person had it not been for his sudden ailment. though a live video conference was able to be arranged, owing to the urgency of the matter at hand. 

so you figured the fastest way to get the man back into bed was to help him complete this ordeal swiftly, that meant helping him in the shower, given his sore muscle ached. applying small dots of concealer under his eyes as to not bring attention to his fatigued face, deterring from the presentation at hand.

dressing him in his warmest wool suit, but only the upper half, kento was sound enough to know there was no need to abandon his fleecy Pompompurin pajama pants. the executives were only to see from the shoulders up after all. and lastly ridding him of a heavy five o'clock shadow that was speckled with smears of dried rice from the porridge you had made him earlier. 

“ok, that should be enough,” you whispered, carefully taking off the damp towel that no longer retained warmth, and squeezing out the shaving cream from the canister into your hand.

you proceed to spread the milky foam in a thin layer across the lower half of his face, letting out a soft chuckle at the finished outcome. you picked up the brand-new razor from the counter, puffing your cheeks and letting out a deep breath.

“i trust you.” kento whispered, his voice scratchy and hushed. 

you smiled in response, quietly informing him that you were starting. you crouched to his eye level, pulling his cheek upward with one hand, so the skin where you would shave would be taut. you intently watched his face as well as the area that you had just removed facial hair, making sure that there were no nicks or alter in his relaxed expression, verging on sleep. once you gained confirmation of such, you proceeded to shave the next row, and the next, working inwards towards his lips. 

rinsing the razor after each use, and wiping on a towel you had draped on the counter. though nerve-wracking for a first try, it had been executed well and was quite therapeutic. your eyes were attentive and your hands steady with every down stroke. as you continued to rinse and repeat, literally, you looked up into the bathroom mirror to see your husband rotating his head to view the work that had been done, then looking straight at you with a simple grin and tired eyes, asking what he thought so far.

“you’re doing so good, my love.” he plainly states, but those watery eyes said otherwise with an innuendo you couldn’t miss, in a singular eyebrow raise. stupid praise kink, you thought, looking him up and down, wondering how even in this state, where he acquired the audacity. it wasn’t long until the two of you burst into a fit of laughter, kento being cautious as to not rub off the shaving cream with one hand that covered his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. 

“what even are you.” you snickered, quickly calming yourself with the reminder of the razor in your hand.

you proceeded to shave, on the brink of completion, now focusing above his lip, where you took even more caution than you had before, due to the sensitivity of his skin in that area. opting to sit on his lap, nearly chest-to-chest with his sore arms that maintained enough strength to have a secure hold on you, even though your knees were bent, and your feet touched the heated floor effortlessly. 

a few stolen kisses on kento’s behalf, and nothing more than a restrained smile that he was fighting from getting any bigger as you finished the last few strokes. in his mind, it was anticipated that the minute kento finally got better, you were going to contract what he had afterward anyway. and in turn, he’d take care of you. 

so what's the harm in a few more kisses?

“so my dear husband, how would you like to start our weekend?” you asked, still cozily tucked under the blankets, looking at your husband who was similarly bundled under the toasty blankets, with your hand situated on top of his, placed gently on your cheek.

“well dear wife, it’s been days since i’ve last shaved.” he simpered, looking down at you with sly eyes.

it was something the both of you saw coming, once again he hadn’t been shaving for a while, but of course, it was deliberate. you softly laugh in response with your voice still heavy in slumber, “i’ll go get the facial steamer— in a few minutes, i want to savor every second of this vacation.” further burrowing yourself into his chest.

it had been a few months since the first time you had to shave kento’s while he was recovering, the proposal went flawlessly if you omit the booming sneezes that startled the executives even through the screen.

you had since made the switch to a straight blade like the ones you’d see used in old school barber shops, watching tutorials on methods exercised by professionals for efficiency and safety. 

invested in a proper kit that supplied everything you’d need. from shave oil, pre-shave oil, shave cream, a velvety brush to spread the lather, after-shave (which smelled phenomenal), and blade replacements.

it’s been even longer since his barber last gave him a proper shave after a haircut, and that time will only continue to be prolonged. he loved how close you’d be when focusing, but time after time you’d only grown to relax the tension in your muscles. you’d sit on his lap for more of the session, and those sessions would only go longer from the last.

where there would be conversation taking place about your lives, now and the future. sometimes there would be easy-listening music playing from the speakers that would lay the cornerstones of an “impromptu” dancing session, where kento’s hands would be politely placed on your lower back, and his hand strong in yours, waltzing all around your bathroom for what felt like forever.

he was shirtless, and truth be told a little chilly, and you were wearing an old shirt of his, to him you always looked beautiful. even though there was still plenty of shaving cream on his face, it would eventually be smeared on yours. there wasn’t much more he wanted in life.

if you ask him, any weekend is well-spent, even if you do spend the entirety of it in bed, painting beautiful sceneries, cooking your favourite dishes, dancing with ardour despite having taken one class on ballroom waltz, or you shaving his grown-out stubble. as long as you're by his side, nothing is ever a waste of time. that’s how it’s been, that’s how is it, and that’s how it’ll be.

and who knows, maybe next time kento will convince you to cut his hair.

[interactions] reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ₊˚⊹♡

maroon

javier peña x f!reader

part of a slight malfunction & continuing from ninth wheels

rating: E (18+ ONLY, MDNI)

word count: 2.9k

summary: And I chose you / The one I was dancin' with / In New York, no shoes / Looked up at the sky and it was

One of your favorite nights from your summer with Javi. Cheap pink wine, ABBA, and having a laugh. Just as friends. Good friends.

warnings: NO USE OF Y/N, undefined relationship, use of pet names, very basic spanish so please correct me, unprotected sex, alcohol use, fluffffff, sweet funny times

April - July 1990

You’ve seen Javi every weekend that he’s had off since meeting him. Usually, he makes the trip up to yours in the city, driving the two hours (sometimes pushing three when traffic is bad) Friday night after work, staying with you until the last possible minute before he has to return home Sunday evening.

It’s a routine you’ve welcomed; he fits right into your life like a missing piece. Everything feels smoother when he’s around, running effortlessly with his efficiency that directly opposes your natural dilly-dallying. The two of you make the most of the sunny season, despite the nearly unbearable heat as it got into the midsummer months. Farmers markets, going out dancing, making meals together, and having one very uppity, fancy dinner that you two couldn’t stop giggling through and nearly got kicked out of. Some Saturdays you’d drive up to Canyon Lake outside of the city to have a beach day around your landlocked city. It was fun together, even just as friends or in this limbo situation-ship. You’d wondered if Javi just wasn’t a relationship guy, but with the way he treated you, you couldn’t imagine him not wanting a girlfriend or a wife, eventually. Admittedly, you were falling for him, but without any security of knowing if he saw this as something that could be long-term, those feelings were kept to yourself.

A few days stick out in your mind from these sweet months, one Saturday night in and slow Sunday morning that had become a quick favorite of yours. You’d gotten an unusual thunderstorm that night, ruining your plans to go mini-golfing with friends. Instead, the two of you had ended up with your apartment to yourselves and two bottles of cheap, screwtop rosé, courtesy of your roommate (you paid her back, of course, but without the opportunity to go out for your own alcohol, you were virtually left with no choice). A bottle was killed quickly, the second not far behind it, and you both fell into tipsy confessions. One came from Javier, admitting after you said you owned all of ABBA’s albums when you were younger (still did, obviously) that he ‘didn’t understand the fuss around ABBA.’

“What did you just say? I think I misheard you, because if you said what I think you said, you might be a psychopath.” You stared at him, completely deadpanned and disbelieving in his previous statement.

Javier rolls his eyes playfully, looking over at you from his spot sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Bottle of wine in his hand, he passes it back to you as he says, “C’mon, that’s a bit dramatic, cariño. I’m not a psychopath for not understanding ABBA. Just prefer stuff like, I dunno, Fleetwood Mac or Springsteen.”

“What is there to ‘understand?’ It’s just good fucking music! Springsteen wishes he was ABBA.”

“I don’t know how accurate that assumption is, hermosa.”

“Oh my god, I just have to educate you, I guess. Hold this.” You pass him back the bottle after taking a swig, unfurling yourself from your perch in the corner of the couch near him. You step around Javier seated on the floor, crossing the room to your record player. Flicking through the albums, you reach what you are looking for and carefully remove it from the sleeve. Placing it on the turntable and dropping the needle, the sweet melodies of “Angel Eyes” sound through the speakers.

Immediately, you turn to face Javi again, hand moving up to hold onto an air microphone as you sing along to the song. He leans further back, arms going up to his shoulders to spread against the seat of the couch. Brown eyes follow down your dancing form and back up to your face, an amused smirk quirking up under his mustache.

You perform the whole song for him, playfully singing the lyrics directed to him and at other times, dancing and singing like he wasn’t even in the room. As the record spins to the next track, you drop your air microphone and turn the volume down. Closing the gap between you and Javi, you take short steps and stand between his legs stretched out in front of him. His arms move from the couch cushions, motioning you down to his level. You oblige his silent request and kneel between his legs, a smug grin on your face.

“So, do you understand the fuss now? They’re so incredible, you just can’t help but want to sing and dance when their music plays.”

He tilts his head side to side, making a wavering gesture with his flat hand between you two.

“Eh, más o menos. I think they’re still okay, but I did thoroughly enjoy your performance. Definitely made me like the song a lot more.” An amorous smirk covers his face, his hands moving to your legs to hook them on the outside of his. He works to pull you closer on his lap, his eyes flitting around your face and back to meet your own as his touch lingers on your hips.

“Is that so? I guess I’ll just have to make up some choreography to the rest of my favorite songs to get you to like them.”

“I can get behind that idea, cariño. Can be my own little show every weekend.” Javi takes the pause between his response and your next quip to him, leaning closer to you and ghosting his lips over yours. Warm, humid breath fans gently across your chin and neck, a sensation that you don’t feel for long before his mouth is pressed against yours in a heated kiss. Hands find purchase anywhere they can, the two of you standing quickly and giggling as you make your way to your bedroom in a woozy, wine-drunk haze.

Clothes are pulled over each other’s heads, lips connecting again with fervor. Javi’s fingers work at the waistband of the cotton sleep shorts that you’re wearing, pushing them down without warning at the same time that you take a step back. The fabric around your ankles trips you backward, lips pulling away from Javi as you shriek in surprise.

His arms catch your waist before you can land on your bare ass, looking down at you with wide eyes and mouth shaped into a perfect ‘o’. He helps you stand up straight again as laughter falls from your lips, head rolling back at the sight of him startled.

“‘M sorry, cariño. Didn’t realize you were walking backward,” his voice mumbles out the apology, brown eyes softening with slight worry. Your giggles continue as your head shakes back and forth, hands finding his cheeks and squeezing gently to exaggerate the pout on his lips.

“It was funny, baby. Can’t be mad ‘cause you saved my poor butt from being bruised with your quick reflexes,” your soft laughter pulls a grin from him before he’s connecting your lips again, taking careful steps to guide you back to your bed.

The rest of your clothes are stripped off, and more giggles come from you when Javi gets frustrated with attempting to tug his belt from the loops in his jeans. His motor skills are less precise from the alcohol, and you’re thoroughly entertained by the antics from your own tipsy fog. He looks at you laying back on the bed, fully undressed and legs spread, a playful glare in his eyes that only makes you laugh more at the moment.

He grumbles something under his breath, finally getting the leather free from the last loop, throwing it down to the floor, and peeling himself from his tight jeans. Fully undressed, he crawls up the mattress to kneel between your legs, hands skimming across the velvety skin of your thighs. His frame hovers over you as he leans down to meet you in another kiss, breaths mingling with each other and a whimper swallowed by him when he slips his tongue against yours.

Javi moves one hand down the back of your thigh, fingers brushing the crease of your knee as he lifts it wider to let him closer to you. The feather touch tickles your skin there, and involuntary giggles slip out of your lips to the point where you have to pull away from the kiss, head pressed back into the pillow as you laugh. He catches on that you’re ticklish there, the sound of your laugh tugging a wide, satisfied smirk on his face. Fingers tickle your knee with purpose, your own hands gripping his shoulders as you plead between laughs.

“Javi, stop! It tickles, please!” Your begs only egg him on for another moment, his own chuckles exhaling through his lips before he concedes, lowering his hand to grip your calf instead.

The two of you easily fall back into heady kisses and feverish touches once you’ve caught your breath, both of you worked up to the point where your needs overcome your clumsy movements. Even as you only kiss, your heart beats faster. It occurs to you that you haven’t been like this with anyone else; comfortable enough to tease or giggle or act playful, and, at the same time, feeling the burning need to please him. The thought of it as more intimate than you’ve been before sends a shudder down your spine, arching your back to press yourself against his torso.

Minds clear for a moment, Javi takes himself in his hand and lines up with your entrance, rubbing against your wetness before slipping into you easily with one thrust. He pauses to let you adjust to the stretch of him, a groan falling to his lips at the grip of your walls around him. Lowered inhibitions and hazy minds make everything more sensitive until he can’t take the stillness anymore, hips moving to find a steady rhythm while he folds over you to kiss your neck.

Moaning his name, your eyes close to focus on the feeling of him inside of you, the drag of him in and out. As his name slips from your mouth, a breath of silence between the two of you lets you hear the music from the record still turning in the living room. An excited gasp leaves your lips, and Javi swings his hips harder at the reaction, head pulling away from your collarbone to look down at you.

A mischievous smirk is plastered on your face, his brow furrowing in confusion for a moment before you break out into song, singing along happily to “Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” off of your Voulez-Vous vinyl.

“There’s not a soul out there, no one to hear my prayer! Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight! Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away?” You’re incredibly off-key, voice breathy from the exertion of Javi thrusting into you. He groans as you start singing along, shaking his head as he can’t help the smirk on his face.

“You’re unbelievable. I’m literally inside you, cariño.”

“An ABBA song demands to be sung along to, Javier. No matter the time or place. Or activity.”

It’s his turn to laugh, an incredulous but affectionate look on his face as his hips continue to move. Something flashes in his eyes as he locks into your gaze, his smirk turning impish as he pauses his hips, pulling out of you completely and gathering your legs from either side of him. Confusion falls over your face while he manipulates your limbs into a new position, pressing them together and lifting them to rest your calves on one of his wide shoulders. As you open your mouth to question him, he fucks into you again, deeper and harder as he gets into a rhythm. It takes you a second to adjust, whimpers falling from your lips at the feeling of him filling you up completely before you gasp as you realize his thrusts are timed perfectly to the beat of the song.

Javi stares down at you, lustful and doting brown eyes locked with yours. A wide smile pulls the corners of your lips up, a loud laugh falling from your lips at the fact that he’s fucking you to ABBA. The laughs turn to moans quickly as two of his fingers work circles into your clit, the rhythm of the song providing you both with an ideal pace to chase your orgasms. You come ahead of Javi, his name falling from your mouth over and over as he continues to move his hips, the sound of skin on skin and loud moans from the both of you drowning out the music from the other room. Tight around him from your orgasm, it only takes a few short ruts of his hips before he’s spilling into you, a low rumble of pleasure as he finishes.

Chests move up and down quickly to catch your breaths, while Javi slowly pulls out of you, fingers gathering the mix of you two that drips out before it reaches your sheets. He makes quick work of finding his briefs to wipe you clean, discarding them quickly before falling to the mattress next to you.

Strong arms encase your waist, tugging you over to him to share soft kisses as the drunkenness catches up. Before both of you pass out completely, you close your eyes and mumble quietly, teasing evident in your tender tone.

“Bet you like ABBA a lot more now.”

A short exhale from his nose clues you into his humored reaction, his lips pressing to your forehead before his low timbre vibrates in your ear.

“Mi chica tonta, I think that’s my new favorite song.”

Your drunken mind paints a vision during your deep sleep. Watching as if you’re out of your own body, the vignette is Javi and you, in the middle of your living room as you were last night. This time there was no screw-top wine, something much better, more mature, with a deep burgundy color, sitting on the coffee table with two glasses next to it.

Bare feet pad against the low-pile area rug, one of Javi’s hands resting at your hip while the other held yours out to the side. Your remaining hand perches on his shoulder, fingertips feeling the muscle there as his arm moves to wrap around you further and press his large palm against the bottom of your spine.

Something slow and melodic played over the speakers of your record player, a tune that you recognize but can’t quite place in your subconscious. It directs you two into an easy sway around the small open square of flooring.

Your head rests on his shoulder, facing the large windows that look out onto San Antonio from your fourth-floor walk-up. The buildings around you are shorter, leaving your unit with a view of the city and expansive sky. Looking out onto the view, the sun is setting into a gorgeous burnt orange and maroon watercolor. Clouds are shadowed by the summer sun falling slowly behind them, and the lighting in your apartment changes subtly as the outside dims.

Lifting your gaze up to Javi, the two of you share a soft smile and your ghostly presence can see that he says something to you, but the sound is muffled as you’re pulled from the dream.

The memory of him in your mind melds into the memory of him laying next to you as you wake up, turning over to face him. His eyes are fluttering open, a pained groan rasping out as the harsh sunlight hits him. His head is quickly buried into the pillow under him, a soft chuckle falling from your lips at his dramatics.

The two of you sit in your bed with pounding headaches, not from being overly hungover, but from the decision to drink such cheap, sweet, and shit wine. Once you could bear the thought of leaving from under the covers, the two of you dress minimally and leisurely exit to the living room, your record from the night before still on the turntable. The candles and incense you lit the evening before all burned out, and he cleans up the ashes off the table while you put away the record and make a pot of coffee for the two of you.

Full mugs in hand, you carefully step from the kitchen back to the open living space, attempting not to spill a single drop. Javi cranes his neck to look back at you, a sleepy smile crossing his face and lighting up his eyes when you approach with the steamy beverage. He sits up from his reclined position, takes the drink, and sends you a soft thank you in his low, hoarse morning voice.

It was a slow start to the day with him, lounging around the couch and gradually depleting the coffee in your mugs. Your legs stretch across the couch as you lay back, and eventually, Javi creeps closer to you and sets your feet in his lap and rests his lukewarm mug on your bare thigh. His free hand runs fingertips up and down your calves, the goosebumps that raised calm down once he’s repeated the action a few times. It was the type of morning that those old jazz singers write songs about; everything and nothing happening, the two of you talking about things you won’t remember but having a laugh about them in the moment. You peek at Javi from behind your mug as you sip your coffee, thinking to yourself, that he's your best friend. And maybe more, too.

taglist: @swiftispunk @pedrit0-pascalit0 @lil-stark @joelsversion @mrsvedder12 @starsandsaints07 @wild-fauxed @rubyshouse @notes-from-my-journal @mi-place @killervirgosworld @paytonispunk @jakecockley @hydrangaces @jupitercorgi @nic0lodean @creedslove @westeros-needs-me @ikigailereve @the-casual-cat @marysucks-blog @midnightswithdearkatytspb @luamarieta @kaletastrophes @nasanatmfers @storyarcscribe @s3xymoonman @sylphene @asirenbyanyothername @ur-honey-child @frustratedpanda @sarcasmismyonlydefense24 @nonbinarymothman @dieterbravo @theelishad @pascalislove @bigbutchenergee @starkovli @scrambledslut @atinylittlepain @pr0ximamidnight @beskarandblasters @johnwatsn @thetriumphantpanda

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Harry and Louis kind of secretly sort of dated in high school. Now it's two years later and they're both back in town for Christmas and it's awkward. Until it isn't.

📖 The Clock Strikes New Year by @jacaranda-bloom (9k)

Harry was homeless, but now he has Louis. Louis was lonely, but now he has Harry. And there’s more than one way to see fireworks on New Year’s Eve.

📖 All I know is I'm in trouble ('cause the atmosphere's so cold) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (8k)

While on a holiday with his best mate Zayn, Louis meets Harry, who seems to dislike him from the start. It's just his luck he ends up getting stuck on a ski lift with Harry. Except maybe the universe knows better and he really is lucky.

📖 Alpha Heater For Sale by @harryslonecurl (3k)

It read: Alpha heater for sale! Winter weather got you down? Call Harry for your warm, furnace-like needs!

📖 Rapture by @allwaswell16 (3k)

It was New Year's Eve in Victorian London, and a lonely vampire could no longer resist the stunning lamplighter he watched night after night.

Or, a vampire Harry fic because what says the holidays like Victorian vampires?

📖 a taste of bliss by @beckydoesthings (1k)

It's New Year's Eve, and Louis is working. As much as he hates it, there's a few benefits to working a holiday. One is the free champagne. The second may or may not come in the form of a curly haired sous chef named Harry.

Looking Back at My 2022 Goals: Leveling Up Mentally and Spiritually in 2023

As 2022 comes to a close, take some time to reflect. Look back at the goals you set at the beginning of the year. How did you do? What are some things you wish you would've done differently?

My goals for this year were:

I honestly didn't look back too much at this list throughout the year, but I can thankfully say many of my goals have organically been incorporated in my routines and daily life bit by bit as the year went on.

It doesn't matter if you started working towards your goals January 1st or December 1st, all that matters is that you had the discipline to start. To implement every single one of your goal's January 1st can be overwhelming to some, and discouraging when you fail to keep up the habits, which is why so many people drop their New Year's resolutions in the first 2-3 weeks. You don't have to sprint towards the finish line the second the new year begins. Be gentle with yourself. By implementing your goals slowly and gradually into you daily life, you are more likely to keep up with them.

One of my goals for 2022 was to do some form of joyful movement at least 5 days out of the week. I found pilates, stretching, and daily walks worked best for me rather than going to a gym. I want to be able to enjoy life freely for as long as possible and that means taking care of myself and my body. During the summer months, my 5am morning walks and pilates were Godsend. It required serious discipline to get to wake up so early, but it was so worth it! I feel so much stronger and energized! This is a habit I definitely want to carry into 2023. I wasn't consistent with my daily joyful movement it until May, and that's okay! Starting later is better than not starting at all.

Setting limits on social apps has really helped decrease my screen time. I've definitely noticed the less I spent online, the better I felt mentally and my mindset regarding online/media spaces has shifted drastically. I don't feel the need to be in the loop when it comes to the latest trends of what's "in" vs what's "out." No longer am I caught up in the happenings of celebrity and internet culture (the less you check into trending topics and gossip blurbs, you'll find yourself caring less and less about them, trust me). I noticed the more time I spent obsessing over social media and trying to fit into a specific aesthetic, the less I was able to truly be myself. Get off the internet and learn about yourself!! Forget about trends, what do you like to wear? What do you like to do? Don't let the internet fool you into behaving in a way that makes you feel artificial. Since I've learned this, life has become so much richer and simpler.

Quality over quantity has been a big theme for me this year. I wanted to apply this to my closet as well and create a capsule wardrobe filled with high quality pieces rather than fast fashion items. I've always been drawn neutral tones and earthy tones, but recently have developed a soft-spot for navy and burgundy. I've slowly been swapping out my polyester and acrylic items for pieces made of pure silk, linen, cotton, cashmere, and wool. I'm at a place now where I'd rather spend my money on one high quality basic that will last me years and years than numerous fast fashion items of equal monetary value.

Cooking and baking has always been a hobby of mine, but after some mental/health challenges, I found it hard to enjoying being in the kitchen. I don't remember the moment it all clicked, but the autumn months really helped me fall back in love with cooking. All the things I was doing to physically keep my body moving made me want to ensure I was fueling my body properly as well. I spent less time in grocery stores and more time at farmers markets talking to the farmers/vendors and learning about where the food I'm eating is actually coming from!! Organic produce, free-range eggs, grass-fed meats, locally made bread and locally harvested honey as much as possible. Cooking and baking things from scratch instead of buying it processed from the super market. Eating with the seasons. Making my first sourdough starter. Beginning with a few basic ingredients and witnessing something beautiful come into fruition from oven to plate. I'm so thankful I was able to discover an all-new joy for being in the kitchen this year, and I plan to continue to harness these skills in 2023.

I thank God for the way He has helped me grow in my faith this year. Spending time in His word daily. Praying to Him not just as part of my morning and nightly routine, but sometimes multiple times throughout my day just to chat or ask for guidance. Learning to put His will for my life above my own. Learning to trust Him with everything in my life and giving Him full control. Learning to serve others rather than always looking to be served. In the beginning of the year, my goal was to become "that girl," but now my goal is to become the woman of God the Lord wants me to be. I want to be a woman after His own heart. To spreads God's love with the world by being gentle, kind, wise, graceful, poised, soft-spoken, and selfless. I am in no way perfect, but I'm thankful for the growth I've seen this year and I thank God in advance for the work He will do in me this coming year.

Bound

Part One

Hey hey hey!! Here is my new Alpha!Sam fic. I really hope you guys enjoy this! Its somewhat of an AU, but Sam and Dean are still hunters. 

Read Part Two Here: 

Unchained

Summary: You learn something new about yourself, something that is brought on by a stranger. Your life is turned upside down when you present as an Omega and are immediately taken and kept away from him. Your Alpha.

Warnings: Eventual smut, talk of capture, talk of mistreatment, talk of fear and anguish, reader is a virgin. This is angsty, but it ends happy because I literally cannot make Sam sad.

Note: @never--doubt, @emoryhemsworth, @hintsofhoney and I were talking about an innocent reader fic. So this is mine. 

I would like to give a special thank you and shout out to my beautiful and brilliant Betas @emoryhemsworth @440mxs-wife​ @makeadealwithdean and @never--doubt​ you guys helped me so much with this fic. Reading and rereading. Listening to my ideas. Thank you thank you thank you!!!

Pairings: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader

Prologue 

It started with the war. Hundreds to thousands of boys and men were sent to fight and die for a country that didn't provide the service back. Most of them were Alphas. Their Omegas were left at home for months, years, or sometimes until the boney hands of death also claimed them. Their natural cycles and heats were not being met with what they needed most—their Alphas. The Omegas called for their mates. Their desperate and wild howls filled the night air. The moon wept alongside her sisters.

Generations came and went, and as time passed, a dip in the presentation of Omegas occurred. Not only were they becoming increasingly rare, but they were also going extinct. The mother of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas became a commodity. Bought and sold to the highest bidder in hopes of breeding an Omega.

Once held in the highest regard, their presentation became seen as weak and dependent. Omegas were to be captured and stowed away in a house of their own kind. They would be kept pure, letting their heats dissolve them every month in agony. They do not allow them any contact with Alphas. A select few Betas can be in their presence. The only Alphas now who could claim an Omega have to pay the price.

Only a twist of fate can undo the ties that bind. -------------------- As you strolled through the farmers market, you let your hands touch soaps, fruits, vegetables, and fabrics. The spring air blew strands of your hair off your shoulders, filling your nose with its new and crisp scent. You turned your face toward the high morning sun, feeling the heat soak through your t-shirt and leggings.

"Hey, Ness." You greeted your friend as you ducked under a tent.

"Hey, Y/N." She called back, looking at you over her shoulder.

"Got anything good for me today?" You asked, bending at the waist to check out her selection of fruits and vegetables.

"Well, seeing as you are late..." She said, turning to face you fully.

"Ugh, I know!" You said. "I couldn't make myself get out of bed this morning. I just felt this pull for more sleep." You explained, picking up an orange for inspection.

"Still, I saved you the best tomatoes," Vanessa said, her smile wide as she handed you the brown paper bag.

"You are literally the best. I love you." You said as you took the bag from her hands, peeking at the red and orange heirloom tomatoes.

"Love you more." She said back. You fell into an easy routine with your friend. She was a Beta. Her sweet and clean smell filled your nose. Vanilla and ripe summer strawberries. You were also a Beta. Your presentation had not been typical, but it wasn't entirely abnormal.

You were about to ask Ness if she wanted to come over tonight when it hit you. The scent filled your entire body. It smelt of soft sandalwood, the woodsy and fresh aroma reminding you of springtime. Green and young foliage kissed by the sun and air for the first time. A heavy musk lay underneath. Old books with spines that crack from time passing. Your fingers could almost feel the worn and read pages between them. The wind shifted, and you could now smell pine. The ever-true and mighty trees covered with heavy snow still stand tall in the changing environment. Your mouth watered at the scent of orange. You could practically taste the sweet and tart juice rolling across your tongue and sliding down your throat. It's supple nectar refreshing and filling you. You could feel the heat of a bonfire on a cool summer evening burn across your flesh, its incandescent smell warming you from the inside out. Soothing mint was the final scent you picked up. Clean and bright. Fresh. It cleared your senses until it was all you could scent...all you could feel was him.

"Do you smell that?" You asked out loud. Your eyes rolled back in your head, and your knees buckled involuntarily. You let out a gasp that turned into a moan. Your tongue felt thick with moisture. Your head lolled back on your shoulders.

"What is happening?" You asked through panting and panicked breaths. You felt like you were being watched, and your head snapped forward, looking...for what, you weren't sure. You flicked the hair out of your eyes, and that's when you saw him. He was tall. Standing above everyone else. He wore a blue jacket with a black flannel underneath. His brown hair blew softly in the breeze. He was incredibly handsome. Long limbs and broad shoulders. Defined cheekbones and a strong jaw, softened by baby-pink lips and expressive eyes. His mouth sat slightly open, his chest heaving with full breaths. His eyes locked onto yours, and the cramps rolled through you.

"Oh, my god." You practically shouted, your hands flying to your stomach.

"Y/N, what the hell is going on?" Vanessa asked, her voice worried and confused. You gasped as you fell to the ground, your hand knocking over fruits and vegetables as you tried to catch yourself.

"Holy shit," Vanessa said, covering her mouth. "You're an Omega."

You curled inward as a fresh wave of cramps moved through you. When you looked up, there he was. Crouching in front of you. His hazel eyes were determined yet concerned. He held his hand out to you, offering you help. You couldn't explain why, but you trusted him. Your fingers danced over his, his body pulling you back to standing. The moment your skin touched his, you knew. You had read about his. True mates. There was no record of a true mate in over a century. They had been eradicated from the treatment of Omegas. Or so you thought. Your breath caught in your throat, and you felt the slick leak between your legs. He caught the smell of it, and you saw his eyes turn wild. His hand practically yanked you toward him, his opposite arm holding you tightly against his chest.

"Omega." His voice was thick and weighted with arousal. Your knees buckled again, but he caught you this time. His hand came up to wipe the hair away from your forehead.

"You're my..." You mumbled through panting breaths and moans. Your cramps were getting worse, overtaking your entire body. He looked deeply at you then. His sunset eyes were staring into yours. Intertwined in green, blue, and gold, you saw your life waiting for you. It was then that you realized the others around you. Alphas from all over the surrounding area were closing in on you. He noticed them too. A protective and possessive growl came from deep within his chest. He turned and tucked you behind him, his arms holding you tightly. Using himself as a shield as he slowly backed up while assessing the situation.

A whistle broke through the crowd. Your head turned to see dozens of guards racing through the farmers market. They had nightsticks, guns, and gas that they were threatening the descending Alphas with.

"No." Your Alpha said, moving you to the front of his body and wrapping you into an unyielding embrace. Despite all the action, you couldn't help your body's response to being surrounded by his scent. You fisted his shirt in your hands, trying to get as close as possible.

The guards came for him. There were about 20. Your Alpha tried to hold onto you, but there were too many. He unwillingly let you go and began to fight them off. Sometimes taking two of three at a time. You watched in fear and amazement as his massive form made quick work of each guard. His arms and legs struck their target each time precisely. Another Alpha jumped in as well. He fought off the guards alongside your Alpha. Their movements were calculated and practiced. They were experienced. You stared at the two of them, still wrecked with cramps and sweat.

Suddenly, hands wrapped around your arms. You tried kicking. You tried yanking your arms away. You tried flailing your entire body. They were too strong. Alarm and panic coursed through your veins. You let out a scream, your desperation evident. Your Alpha turned then. His nostrils flared. There was so much anger and aggression in his focused eyes. You watched his large hands ball into fists at his side. His lip curled over his front teeth as he charged at the guards, his body only seeking yours. The other Alpha, who was fighting with him, ran as well. The guards all blocked you, standing between you and your Alpha. You watched as he screamed, punched, and kicked. You saw the agony and peril written across his handsome face as they threw you into the van. You made eye contact with him. You reached out your hand, desperately trying to get back to him.

"I will find you! Do you hear me? I will come for you. My Omega!" He screamed, his eyes holding yours with certainty. His voice was the last thing you heard before the needle pinched your skin and sleep took you. ---------------------- "Come on, man! I just wanna sleep!" Dean whined, his head turning to the other side of the pillow.

"I can go without you. I just wanted to let you know I'm taking the car." Sam said, already picking up the keys.

"What?" Dean shot up. "Why do you need the car?"

"Because it's a few miles away," Sam explained.

"Fine. They better have coffee." Dean mumbled as he dramatically threw the covers off him and stumbled into the bathroom.

"It's a farmers market, Dean. Of course, they will have coffee." Sam said, rolling his eyes and waiting for his brother.

"And bacon!" Dean shouted.

"I'll call ahead." Sam shot back sarcastically. ---------------------- "What the fuck, Sam? I don't see any bacon!" Dean asked, his face twisted in annoyance.

"Have a muffin," Sam said, pointing to the first thing he saw.

"You have a muffin!" Dean poked his finger into Sam's chest.

"I told you, you didn't have to come," Sam said.

"Right. Like I'm gonna let you leave Baby here with all these..." Dean paused, flailing his hands around dramatically. "Vegetarians!" He whisper yelled before he stalked away.

Sam shook his head and laughed lightly at his brother's usual antics before returning to the canvas bag display before him. He lifted his head to look at the booth next to him when it hit him. The purest and most intoxicating scent filled his lungs.

It smelt of jasmine, its sensual and feminine smell wrapping around him. He could see the fields of lavender in his mind. Their gorgeous purple color contrasts the lush green grass in which they grow. The floral scent was wild yet tamed, making his hands ball into fists at his side. His tongue felt heavy at the taste of honey, his mouth savoring its nutty and woodsy aroma. He smelt spices, cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg. Their nostalgic and balmy perfumes reminded him of autumn. How the seasons change brought new life to the earth. Sam could virtually feel the rain dance across his body. Goosebumps covered his flesh at the humid and earthy smell bringing him almost to his knees. His pupils dilated at the fresh and invigorating fragrance of freshly cut lemon. Its sticky and citrus juices awakened his senses until all that was left for Sam to see or feel...was you.

He saw you then, hunched over and panting. Your eyes locked on his, and his world stopped spinning. All the air left his lungs, and the blood ran hotter in his veins. You grabbed your stomach, your face scrunching in confusion and pain. You fell to the ground, and Sam took off toward you. Shoving and pushing anyone and everyone out of his way until he was crouching before you. He stretched his hand out to help. He knew the instant your delicate touch caressed his scared and calloused skin. Sam caught the scent of your slick sliding down your legs and had to keep himself from ripping your clothes off. He ran his hands over your hair, feeling the heat from your body as he pulled you close.

"Omega," He claimed.

"Your my..." Your voice was breathy and dazed. Sam knew what you meant. True mates. Even in his delirium, he knew this was exceedingly rare. He tilted your head back to look directly into your eyes. Swimming among the specks of Y/E/C, he saw everything he could ever need. ----------------- Your hand was reaching toward him. His love. His Omega. His unclaimed mate. He reached back. Your beautiful eyes were full of fear and agony. It killed him to watch you in pain and sorrow.

"I will find you! Do you hear me? I will come for you. My Omega!" He pledged to you and himself. The guards slammed the doors of the van and sped away. It took over 15 guards to hold Sam and Dean back from you. They finally broke away and raced toward the Impala. Dean jumped across the hood to climb into the front seat.

"What the fuck is going on, man?" Dean screamed once they took off driving. Sam didn't answer right away; he just sat in brooding silence. His hands balled tightly into fists on his lap. Dean screamed his name, and Sam finally snapped out of it.

"I don't know," Sam said truthfully. "I think...no...I know, she is my true mate."

"True mate?" Dean asked, looking over at Sam. "When was the last time that happened?"

"Over a century ago," Sam answered.

"Whoa." Was all Dean said, his hand running through his spiked hair.

Despite their best efforts, they lost the van carrying you. Sam shook with anger and frustration. His mind and body swinging between hectic depression and chaotic rage. Now that he had seen you. Scented you. Heard your angelic voice...he could never be without you.

They pulled into Singer Auto the next day. Sam closed the door and immediately started pacing. Bobby greeted them outside with beers in his hands.

"What's got you two all riled up?" Bobby asked around the lip of his beer can.

"I met my true mate. They took her from me, Bobby. They took my Omega." Sam said. His voice was primal sounding. Bobby lowered his beer can, his brow stitching together on his forehead. He looked at Sam as if he was crazy, glancing between both boys for more information.

"Your true mate?" Bobby asked. "Sam...there hasn't been a documented case of true mates in..." Bobby trailed off. His head shook in disbelief.

"Over a century. I know." Sam finished for him. He sounded impatient.

"It's true, Bobby. I saw it all. She presented in the middle of a farmers market." Dean piped in.

"What?" Bobby looked as if he had just been punched in the stomach.

"Yeah. Us and about 50 guards from the government had to fight off like 25 other Alphas who were all called there by her presentation." Dean explained.

"And you're sure it was you, son?" Bobby asked. Sam pricked at the question but remained in control.

"It didn't happen until we made eye contact." Sam verified.

"My god," Bobby said. His eyebrows raised to his hairline.  

"Bobby. I need to know where they are kept, the Omegas. I need to find her. I need to rescue her. Every minute that I am without her is agony to me. It has only been a day, and I feel like I'm gonna combust. I feel like a part of me is missing. I need to be with her. I need...her. Just her." Sam said, his voice softening.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know. I-I don't even know if there is just one house or several." Bobby said regretfully. Sam let out a breath that turned into a growl, his hands raking through his hair.

"Well, boys, it looks like we have some work to do," Bobby said more confidently. ----------------------- You awoke in your new room. It was bland. All sense of individuality was gone. The walls were beige. The bedding was beige. Even the furniture was a withered beige. You let out a shaky breath, closing your eyes and feeling the tears come. In all the turmoil at the farmer's market, you didn't have time to fully understand what was happening. The fear settled over your shoulders like a cold, scratchy blanket offering no warmth.

Your body curled into itself tightly. Cramps still sat deep in your abdomen. A constant and aching reminder of your new reality. The tears fell hot and heavy down your cheeks, their salty taste getting caught in your mouth. You sniffled and pressed the palms of your hands into your eyes. Your breath was wet sounding as you cried in your lonely room. You got out of bed and went to the door, swallowing thickly from nerves. Eyes closed as your fingers felt the cold metal of the handle. You turned it. Locked.

"No. No. No. No. Please. No." You said in total defeat. Your voice pendulated from small and meek to loud and angry as you continued your protest. You ran your hands over the door, looking for any way out.

"You can move around the house once your heat is over." Someone spoke. They were right outside the door. Your breath caught in your throat, and you stepped backward in fear.

"Don't be scared." She spoke again. There was the sound of a key turning in a lock. The door opened, and a woman walked through. She was beautiful with wavy raven-colored hair that fell to her mid-back. She wore a long black dress that accentuated her cleavage. Her olive skin was highlighted with freckles and beauty marks. Large dark brown eyes found yours, and a calm smile sat on her lips.

"My name is Violet. I am the head Omega of this house." ---------------------- Four months Later The Omega house was strange. Most women here were kind and compassionate. Most days passed with walks around the property. Reading in the small library and eating meals with some other Omegas here. You had classes on how to be a good Omega. How to best manage your heats. And how to keep your Alpha happy. It was misogynistic and disgusting, but you were holding it together. It was alright per se, but it wasn't home. There were two times when the house was miserable. Once was when you had your heat. You were forced to stay in your room. Given only essential over-the-counter medication for the pain. No matter how bad the cramps were. No matter how loudly you pleaded. You were not allowed to touch yourself. Not allowed anything that could provide some relief for the aching pulse between your legs. Some have even been tied down because they could not stop. However, the worst days were the days when the Alphas visited. They came in with confidence unlike you had ever seen. Their fancy cars and clothes could not mask their true nature. They saw you all as property. They didn't ask permission to touch or scent you. They didn't want to talk to you or find themselves in any kind of courtship. They tried to claim you as their own. They wanted to own you. Today was one of those days.

You took a deep breath, running your hands over the white dress you had to wear when the Alphas were here. It fits tightly across your chest, flowing slightly at your waist. The hem fell around your calf, showing your bare feet. You rubbed your bicep nervously and prayed that you didn't get chosen. You had lucked out the past four months and hoped your luck could get you one more month. A bit more time for him to find you. You knew he was looking. You closed your eyes at night and pictured his handsome face. His strong yet gentle hands holding you. His warm and perfect mouth...

Violet's voice calling all of you interrupted your thoughts. You rolled your eyes and made your way downstairs to greet the Alphas. You stood with the other Omegas. Some of them like you, begging to not be chosen, while others did whatever they could for an Alpha's attention. The door opened, and several men walked through. You could feel the arrogance and pride rolling off of them.

Violet introduced all of you. You felt like you were up for auction. It was sick and twisted. There was nothing weak or feeble about you or anyone here. All of these women deserved love and affection from someone of their choosing. Someone who loved them the way they deserved to be loved and adored. You left your body, flying high into the air, your mind conjuring up memories of your Alpha. His lips. His hands. His pointed nose. His green and gold eyes. How protective he was of you. Holding you like it was his last day.

A finger trailing over your neck pulled you back into the room with everyone. You slid your eyes over to the Alpha smiling in front of you. He leaned in, moving your hair out of the way so he could put his face into the crook of your neck. He took a large breath. Goosebumps covered your skin, and you did everything possible to not look as disgusted as you felt.

"I like this one." The Alpha moaned. His lips gave you a small kiss before he pulled away.

"Yes, I would like to have her." His eyes raked over your body. "Whatever the cost." He added.  

"Very well, Alpha Luke," Violet said, her eyes staring forward. Your heart sank in your chest. What? You had been bought? You were going to be this Alpha's wife? Panic began to drip down your spine. Your stomach felt sour and sick. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood to keep yourself from screaming.

"When will she be ready?" Luke asked.

"Tomorrow evening," Violet said.

"I'll be here at 6 sharp." He turned and took a few steps before turning back around. "Have her in more revealing clothes." He said with a wicked grin.

The door to your room closed. The lock slid into place. Its sound echoed as a physical manifestation of your sealed fate. --------------------------- "Oh, my god," Dean mumbled around a pancake.

"What?" Sam asked, lifting his head from his laptop. He hadn't slept or eaten in days.

"I found it," Dean said. His face was bright, and his smile wide.

"You found..." Sam trailed off.

"The last house," Dean assured him, turning the computer so Sam could look.

"Let's go," Sam said. His voice was authoritative and raw.

Over the past four months, Sam, Dean, and Bobby had been on a never-ending search. They watched and observed wealthy Alphas. Following them to Omega houses. Sam trying to find you through your scent. Every time he walked away more disappointed than the last. He knew you were waiting for him. Sometimes, in the still hours of early morning, he swore he could feel your heart beating in his chest. He had to get to you. You were all he could think about. He could not rest until you were safe in his arms. Food lost its flavor. Whiskey no longer burned. All the things that once brought him joy felt useless and limp. He needed you. ---------------- You sat in the bath as it was custom for Omegas on their selling day. Four other Omegas sat around you. The water didn't feel warm to you. You had lost all sense of perception of the world around you. You almost felt catatonic from ache and anguish. You no longer felt the soapy sponge on your flesh or the delicate fingers that washed your hair. Your mind receded into itself. Not allowing you to accept that tonight you would be wed. Tonight a stranger would take you as his own. Laying a claimed mark on your skin. Time was up. Your Alpha couldn't find you. And now, even if he did. You would legally belong to someone else in only a few short hours.

This house and its customs. This society and its rules. They may contractually bind you to someone for money. But your heart could speak for itself. Your heart belonged to him. Your soul resided with his. Your Omega was his absolute pairing. A man whose name you didn't even know. And yet, he was yours. And you were his until the end of your days.

The Omega's helped you dress. A white outfit sat in front of you. It was what the Alpha had requested. The top was a lace corset highlighting your breasts with a matching skirt that fell to your upper thighs. The lace was not opaque. You could see your white underwear and a gathering of lace hid your nipples. Although it was clearly made to be removed, it was rather elegant. You looked in the mirror and closed your eyes. Even though this was one of the most sensual and beautiful items you had worn. You never felt more disgusting.

The ceremony started, and you practically lurched forward from nausea. You caught yourself on the railing, descending the staircase as you were told. Another Omega had been chosen as well. Her name was Tanya. You didn't know her well, but having her next to you was helping slightly.

You reached the end of the stairs and saw Luke waiting there. His eyes looked over you with a controlling lust that made your skin crawl. You lowered your head and walked over to him. His scent reeked of wet dog to you. He reached up and touched your cheek. It felt almost kind. Until his hand wrapped around your jaw and he yanked you towards him, your lips pulled uncomfortably together at his harsh touch.

"Mine." He growled in your face. The tears prickled in the corners of your eyes. Then...you smelt him. That delicious woodsy and citrus scent. Your eyes rolled back, and a sharp breath pulled into your lungs. Luke smelt him too. His lip curled. His head turned toward the entryway. The large doors began to shake against their hinges. Your breathing became loud and erratic. The wood began to creak and moan against the assault. Luke pulled you toward him, his arm wrapping around your waist. You tried to fight him off, pushing on his forearm.

The doors finally gave. They hit the house's walls with a resounding bang that echoed throughout the room. He stood in the middle of the doorway. His massive form was emphasized under the milky glow of the full moon. He wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans. His muscular arms were defined by the shadows of night. His face was stoic and stern. He wore a few days of stubble across his chiseled jaw. You stopped struggling when his eyes connected with yours. As soon as he saw you, his shoulders pushed back. His body stood to its full height, his head tilting up in dominance. It was as if time stood still. Your pounding heart was the only thing you could hear.

"'Mega." Your presentation was rounded beautifully by his flawless lips. The moment his boot crossed the door's threshold, guards were on him. Luke sneered, shoving you behind him. Your Alpha pushed the guards away one by one, his large and powerful hands all but throwing them aside like ragdolls. The same Alpha from the farmers market slid behind him on his knees. His body attacking with the same ferocity as your Alpha. The guards didn't give up without a fight. They continued to attack. Your Alpha landed several punches that knocked guards out cold. You swallowed, watching the sheer power coming from him. The guards left the other Alpha, and all came for yours then. His body taking hits from every side. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands. Luke pounced, his fists flailing. The sounds of a fight filled the room. Hard contact of skin on skin. Low and heavy grunts.

You flung yourself into the pile, jumping on top of Luke. He threw you to the ground forcefully. You got back up and flicked your hair out of the way.

"Go! I got them, go!" The other Alpha screamed. He squeezed himself into the pile so your Alpha could break free. You started walking toward him, but Luke once again grabbed you. You flailed and kicked, and your Alpha pumped his arms to fight him. You spun in Luke's grasp, holding onto his shoulders and kneeing him hard between his legs. He fell, letting you free. You ran to your Alpha. He held his arms out for you. You jumped onto him, your body wrapping around his chest. He encased you fully into his arms. He backed you against the wall, looking deeply into your eyes. He lowered his head and ran his nose over your neck, scenting you. Your eyes fluttered.

"Omega." He mumbled.

"You came for me." You whispered. Your breath was low and deep in your lungs.

"I promised you I would." He moved his head to the other side of your neck. You gripped his shirt in your hands, rolling your hips against his. He groaned in your ear, his fingers digging into the exposed flesh of your thigh.

"Are you kidding?! Get in the fucking car!" The other Alpha screamed, breaking free from the assault. Your Alpha then ran out of the house with you, throwing you into the back of an old but well-taken-care-of car. The other Alpha jumped into the driver's seat and sped off. The two of you looked at each other in the back seat. You were both breathless and wide-eyed.

"I'm Sam." He said, turning fully to face you. You let the sound ring in your ears. His name. You finally knew his name.

"Y/N." You said with a genuine smile. You watched as his lips silently repeated your name. Sam reached forward and pulled a jacket from the car's front seat. He draped it across your shoulders and smiled at you. He had dimples that eased his dominant appearance and gave him a boyish charm. You lowered your nose to the collar and inhaled deeply. You curled inward at being completely surrounded by his scent.

"I'm Dean, by the way." The other Alpha said. "Not that anyone cares." He mumbled.

"I care." You piped up. "Hi, Dean. Thank you for helping to save me." You said politely.

"You're welcome." He looked at you in the rearview mirror.

Dean drove like a madman to ensure you would not be followed. Taking numerous side streets and even dirt roads through fields. The trip lasted a while until you finally pulled into a motel. You and Sam got out; they had already gotten two rooms. Dean went to stow the car somewhere in the woods.

You walked into the motel room, and suddenly everything felt real. This was real. You were with your Alpha. You swallowed nervously, and your fingers played with the hem of Sam's jacket sleeve.

He reached up to touch your face, and you instinctively backed away, cursing yourself as soon as you did it.

"Were you...?" Sam trailed off, letting him fill in the blanks. You looked down at the floor and tried to think of how to tell him.

"I don't want you to be frightened. You probably saw some scary things locked away in there. I want....No. I need you to know that I would never hurt you. You are my true mate." Sam said.

"Don't worry, Alpha. I assure you, I have been kept pure." You said, keeping your eyes down.

"You think your purity concerns me?" Sam asked you, his face tight with disbelief.

"They told me it was important." You explained. Your voice was small.

"Maybe to some Alphas, it is. To me, however, your well-being is what concerns me. I am your Alpha. Your protector. Your provider. I don't care what they told you in that house. I am telling you now that I am only concerned with your safety and happiness." Sam took three steps to close the distance between you. He took your face into his massive hands.

"I am not asking you if you are pure. I am asking if they hurt you?" His thumb came under your chin to lift your face to look at him.

"Not in that way, no." You said, feeling your confidence starting to emerge again from his words.

"Good." He said, keeping his emotions under control, although you did see him bristle. He glanced down and then back up, his eyes narrowing.

"When you say 'pure'...?" His voice questioning.

"Uh. Yes. I am a virgin." You said, your words were shakey with fear as you spoke them. His eyes widened, and his lips parted.

"What? I...Y/N..." His shocked face read so many different emotions.

"Does that scare you?" You asked.

"Not at all. If anything...it makes me want you even more." He confessed.

"Oh." Was all you said, looking away sheepishly.

"Can I ask why?" He asked.

"It just never felt right. I guess now I know why." You touched his face, running your thumb over his cheek. His eyes closed at the gesture.

"Have you done...anything?" He asked, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair.

"Yes. I have done some stuff." You answered honestly.

"Have you ever...had an orgasm?" He asked you, his voice shy.

"Yes." You admitted.

"But never during your heat?" He asked.

"Yes, it was during my heat." You corrected him.

"But I read the Omegas are forbidden...you weren't allowed to touch yourself," Sam was confused.

"They could stop my hands but couldn't stop my mind." You said. The confidence you once had coming back.

"Your mind? You thought about something?" Sam asked, his voice growing heavier.

"Not something, someone." You whispered, turning your head to kiss his wrist. Sam brought you even closer to him.

"You thought about...?" His body melted into yours.

"I thought about you, Sam. Only you. Thinking about my Alpha. My perfect mate. Even without your touch, you brought me to highs I never thought I could reach." You said, your body pressing harder into Sam's.

"I thought of you too, Y/N. When I was in my rut, I felt like I was about to explode. Thinking of you. Picturing your warm and pure scent. Imagining your soft body against me. Wondering what your name would feel like to finally fall off my lips. I could have sworn I could taste you. Thinking of you gave me the greatest pleasure I have ever known. Until now." He suddenly fell to his knees in front of you. Sam's long arms wrapped around you, his breath becoming heavy and fast. His hands tentatively removed his jacket from around your shoulders. His eyes watching yours to make sure it was ok with you. You nodded, silently begging him to continue.

"I am yours." He whispered. His nose trailed down your chest, his hot breath fanning your breasts.

"From the moment I scented you, I knew you were the most important thing in my life." He dipped his head down to your stomach to deeply inhale your scent. His lips caught on your shirt as he moved back up your body. His fingers gripping the fabric of your skirt. A desperate groan left his mouth.

"We are bound from this day forward. And if fate should be so cruel as to rip me away from you, I will find you in any life after this. You are mine. My Alpha submits to you. My Omega. My moon and stars. My Y/N." Sam's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I am yours, Sam. My Alpha. My sun and skies. Take me." You said through heavy breaths. Your hands took his face between them. Your fingertips traced the outline of his lips.

Sam didn't waste a moment. He instantly stood, grabbing you and taking you with him. He lifted you off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist. His mouth overtook yours. Hot, wet, and possessive. You kissed him back, your tongue finally tasting him. Of all the times you had imagined this, nothing could have lived up to the real thing. The moment his lips graced yours, the cramps started. Your body fell into its natural heat from being with your Alpha. You gasped and gripped Sam tighter. He could sense it instantly, his primal instincts responding to his Omega. Sam's teeth sunk into your bottom lip, drawing a small amount of blood. You moaned into him.

"Claim me." You instructed. You twisted your fingers into Sam's hair, pulling his head back and forcing him to look at you.

"Show everyone who I belong to." You breathed, your voice low and confident.

To Be Continued...

Tagging: @never--doubt @emoryhemsworth @makeadealwithdean @nancymcl @babymxxse @kazsrm67 @zepptte @maliburnee @brooklyn-glen-2014-blog @katherine-ann1 @samfreakingwinchester @idreamofplaid @reconsidering-my-life-choices @clarinette07 @440mxs-wife @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @writethelifeyouwant @squirrelnotsam @prettysourabbie @fanficorwhatever @spnexploration

Moral of the Story. Chapter 22.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N

Word Count: 3900+

A/N: Ok! So this is the last official chapter! I have finally finished the series and my next plan is to write an epilogue eventually as soon as I come up with a storyline I would like this to round out to. I hope you all enjoy as much as I did writing this series. It's crazy that it all started with listening to a song while doing my hair. I have a lot of stories I've been brainstorming on, but refused to start until this one was done. So bare with me and my crazy schedule of teaching for when the next story is to come:) XOXOXOX

Chapter Twenty-two:

Another long list of flights to get her across the country, but she was back in her childhood bedroom and resting for the night. 

She had gotten a really late flight in and her dad was nice enough to pick her up around midnight. 

The house was quiet and being home brought back a form of peace. A peace she never knew she missed until she got a taste of it again in the recent months. 

But there wasn’t much time to rest and focus on that as she had lunch with one of the new businesses the next morning. 

She hadn’t told anyone besides her family she was coming in since she wanted to surprise the rest of the group. However, a piece of her was also not sure how to with a certain person. 

But for now, her focus needed to stay on work. 

She had a great lunch with one of the small businesses that she had become rather close with in her time in highschool, which was now a booming business in the community it had started in. They were the florist shop she would visit anytime she went to the farmers market and were now in the top three florist shops in North Brooklyn. 

The meeting went well and they were very flexible and open minded on starting and learning new concepts to start implementing more eco-friendly routines into their work. 

Since the meeting was short, she decided to head to one of the coffee shops in the area and get a taste for a new place she was sure she’d become a regular at. 

She did a little research as to what was the most sustainable in the area, something she was pretty consistent with, and happened to find a small shop about a mile walk away. 

She ordered a matcha latte and grabbed a chocolate chip cookie to snack on as she looked more into some of the businesses she would be talking with throughout the week. 

In a little nook, she watched as the New Yorkers went about their normal day. Dogs being walked to teenagers giggling at the videos on their phones. 

She missed this atmosphere. Though LA and Brooklyn were big city based, it didn’t mean that they were similar in every way. East coast and west coast were two very different cultures. 

After doing a substantial amount of research, and a little bit of spaced out daydreaming about the changes of the city, she packed up and headed out to get back home for dinner. 

With her hands full, she turned her back to the push door and opened it while backing up. She said a quick thank you to the barista who wished her a happy day, and before she could fully step outside, she was already running into someone. 

“Oh, sorry!” she mumbled, quickly trying to catch the extra pastry bag she had bought for her father. 

Before the bag could hit the floor, the stranger caught it and she looked up seeing those damn piercing blues as if they had been waiting for their entrance into this next chapter in her life. 

“Y/N?” he said, followed by a surprised smile. “What are you doing here?” 

“Bucky,” she laughed, somehow at ease with his reaction. “How are you?” 

“I-I’m good,” he chuckled, handing her the brown paper sack and going to open the door so she was no longer leaning on it. “Wh-What-?”

She moved out of the way as another person excused themselves behind her. Bucky and her relocated to the side of the door where a few outdoor tables stood half occupied. 

“What am I doing here?” She asked his question again for him. “Business,” she nodded. 

“Business?” he questioned relaxing in his spot. “On the other side of the coast?”

“Funny, isn’t it?” she smiled at him, knowing his brain was still trying to catch up. “Yeah, um, my co-founder, Donna, and I got a lot of feedback from the stores I handed out company cards to on my short visit here. My friend thought it would be a good move to come over here and work with them and see if we could start reaching out to other areas.”

“Wow,” he sighed. “That’s amazing. I’m sure your family is extremely happy with that.”

“Oh, you know exactly how that’s going,” she smiled, looking at her feet then back at him. His gaze never once wanted to leave hers in case this was a dream and she would disappear any second. “Dad’s my own personal alarm clock. Sherri is helping me get the bathroom organized upstairs so it's ‘just as I like’ as she put it. Chloe is insisting on a movie night every night until I leave. The list goes on…” 

“I can think of a few other things one of the best bed and breakfast might be doing,” Bucky agreed. 

“They are a really good host family, huh?” she teased. 

“So how long are they hosting you for?” Bucky questioned, tilting his head. 

“That’s TBA…” Y/N hesitated to answer. “At least 3 months, but it all depends on how business goes.”

“3 months? Wow,” his eyebrows shot up. “That’s quite a bit.”

“Yeah, I’m excited for it though,” she shrugged with a happy grin. “I had kinda been moping around work since my visit here, and Donna came up with a way I could get out of that rut and possibly make our company bigger in the long run. Sure, living with my parents for 3 months might be a push.” She sighed. “But I just feel like I missed so much of their lives being so far away that being back makes 3 months seem like no time at all.”  

She realized her short rant was a little more personal than she meant to come out with, but when she looked up at Bucky, he was following every word like it was a start on a treasure map looking for lost gold. 

She let out an awkward laugh. “That was a lot for answering how long I’m staying. I guess you’re just the first friend that I’ve seen, so I’m unloading it all on you first.”

The word. Used so simply and so naturally, either of the two could have carried on without a thought to it, but they didn’t. Because it wasn’t simple. The natural part had made it convincing and sincere. 

She had thought out the sentence and when it filtered through her mind, she didn’t think to correct it because it was… Natural. 

They were friends again. And the tension held between the two had been healed to non existence. It felt comfortable again…

“I’m glad I’m the first friend to find out,” Bucky said just as simply as she had. 

They stood there smiling at the other and a silent emotion flowed spontaneously through them that was the utter perfection of peace. 

The 10 years apart had done them good in the end. Little did they know, it wasn’t until that 10 years came to an end that they fully transformed to their best selves.

_________________

“We haven’t had a poker night with Y/N since highschool. Think she’s going to be as good as she was last time we played?”

Bucky chuckled at Steve’s comment as they laid out bags of chips and the blonde scooped dips into serving bowls. 

“I think I still owe her at least sixty bucks,” Bucky mumbled as he thought back to their highschool gambling days. “Maybe more, but don’t remind her.”

“I’ll keep quiet. I think I owe her more than that,” Steve realized, pausing on the dips. 

There was a second of silence as they set up for their party and classic rock played in the background from Bucky’s playlist. 

“I still can’t believe that you, out of all the people in the city of Brooklyn, ran into her before she told us about her return home,” Steve laughed, grabbing some of the beers they had out and putting them in the fridge before going back to his previous job. 

“You and me both, pal,” Bucky nodded, leaning on the counter. “But I’m glad it happened.”

“I’m sure you are,” Steve chuckled under his breath. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky shot a friendly glare his way. 

But then a knock on the door sounded and before either could look at the direction of the wood barrier, Sam was running out from the hall to answer it.

“I got it! I got it!” he shouted, jogging as if he had been waiting for someone. 

Steve and Bucky shared a look. The crew of everyone coming tonight wasn’t going to be here for another 30 minutes or so. And they don’t remember ordering anything…

After a minute they heard him mumble a thank you as he closed the door with a box in hand. 

“Whatcha got there, Wilson?” Bucky asked, slowly watching as Sam grinned at the delivery. 

“Is that-?” Steve seemed to catch on faster than Bucky.

“Dinner from my sister? Hmm mm,“ he hummed with a wide smile that showed the gap in his teeth. 

“I thought we were doing finger food tonight?”

“Y’all are, but this isn’t for you,” Sam was quick to correct.

“Whose is it?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“It’s for Y/N and I,” he answered simply, putting the fresh cajun food into the oven to stay warm. 

“You and Y/N?” he resaid as if it would make more sense a second time. 

“Yeah,” he said. When he turned back to the other men he saw their faces waiting for an explanation and sighed before obliging. “Sarah is slowly starting up her business up here. She’s doing well, but I know Y/N has all kinds of connections and suggestions for local businesses. I want her to try her food and possibly take my sister as a client if I can convince her.”

Steve laughed and crossed his arms as he placed the last bowl of dip on the bar top. 

“I’m pretty sure you could have just mentioned your sister was a local entrepreneur and she would have jumped at the opportunity to get in touch with Sarah,” Steve smirked. 

“She’s actively looking for people to work with anyway. That’s the whole reason she’s here,” Bucky added. 

“Well, this way, she can sample just how good my family's passed down recipes are worth to invest in,” Sam shrugged, happy with his plan anyway. “All it takes is one bite.”

“You’re really going to not share,” Bucky asked, peering at the closed oven door. 

He had a taste for Sarah’s home cooked meals. Sam was kind enough to bring leftovers when they had family dinners, and they were also regulars at her new restaurant that had been open for the last three weeks now.

“You’re more than capable of calling a delivery in,” Sam retorted, getting a not as friendly glare from Bucky this time. “Or are you struggling with money? Cause I can let Y/N know that you may need a little longer on getting her that $60 you were talking about…”

The glare became even less friendly at the dig and he wished he hadn’t said anything with Sam in the vicinity. 

“Why did you have to go and make friends with that guy?” he huffed, turning around and directing his question to Steve even though Sam was in the room. 

“God, you guys,” Steve groaned, shaking his head and escaping to the living room. 

____________________

Wanda and Vision were the first to come, then Clint and Laura. Slowly people trickled in and though it was a small reunion, it was nice to see the entire crew back together. 

Now they were just waiting for their last guest. 

“She’s running a little behind, isn’t she?” Bucky asked, checking his watch for the 10th time in the last 5 minutes. 

“Relax,” Steve sat at the table where they were getting the poker chips sorted. Wanda and Clint laughing next to each other and Vision and Laura on the couch talking about random things. “She texted she was stuck in traffic. Her Dad took the car, so she had to haul a cab.”

Bucky heard him, but that didn’t give him any sense of ease. He felt as though he needed to be a little bit prepared for her coming, and the only thing he had control over in that area was the time they had set. Of which she was late for such a punctual person. 

As if manifesting her to appear, the last planned knock of the night cut through the room. 

“I got it!” Bucky practically jumped up from his seat and raced to the door.

In his tunnel vision to the door, he missed the looks the entire crew shared and the smirk Steve had as he shuffled the cards. 

Taking only a second to collect himself, he opened the door, and there she was; dressed in a pair of jean shorts and what Bucky knew was a thrifted vintage shirt with sneakers and bag of chips and case of beer in hand.

“Sorry I’m late,” she smiled at him bashfully. 

“Better late than never,” he replied with a smile of his own. “Come on in,” he waved, moving out of the way for her. 

She thanked him as he took the food and drinks from her, yet stayed by her side. He could tell that there were nerves in her stance, but upon seeing a sincere smile, she relaxed.

“Y/N!” Wanda shouted, jumping up from her seat and rushing to hug her friend. 

“Wands!” Y/N chuckled, opening her arms as she met her in the middle. 

She went around the room saying her hellos and happy to see you’s to everyone she had missed. It took a second for them to get to the poker part of the night as they were catching up and reminiscing on life.

Eventually they were seated and Bucky grabbed the chair right next to Y/N with Wanda on the other side of her. In the olden days, he was one of the few people who could catch onto her tells in the game of bluff. Because of that, his best vantage point was from across the table, but he didn’t care about winning or losing tonight. He just wanted to be next to the person he had so long wished to be this close to again. 

And if Y/N was being honest, it was nice being in close proximity to him now that it felt like old times. She missed the comfort this group gave her, but she realized she also missed all the little quips and classic Bucky behaviors that came with being friends with him again. 

It didn’t go without notice from those around them how easily they fell back into the habits they used to share as best friends. Slight nudges when the other had tricked them. The eyes rolling anytime Y/N caught Bucky trying to jokingly peek over her shoulder to see her cards. The name drop of “Everest” every once in a while as he teased her. 

They may not have picked up on it, but it was clear as day that the flirting was happening and the sass and sarcasm they two spit back to each other was spoken as if the 10 years between now and then had never happened. 

“Sam, this is amazing,” she said in shock as she took a bite of the shrimp pasta that his sister had perfected. The buttered bread along with it was perfectly dusted with garlic and other spices to compliment the main dish. 

“My family has the talent of making some of the best comfort food around. And now I don’t have to worry about flying out to Louisiana anymore to get it,” Sam gleamed in pride. 

“This is,” she paused, finishing her bite. “Just amazing.”

“Thank you,” Sam chuckled. “I was actually wondering if-”

“Here, let me get you a card. I would love to work with your sister if she’s willing. I think she’d be a great partner as a locally owned woman started business,” she rushed to her purse to hand off her business card. 

“I told you,” Bucky mumbled, coming in and overhearing the conversation as she ran past him to the living room. 

“I like her,” Sam grinned. “I never thought I would say it, but you have good taste, Barnes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the comment and Sam followed behind Y/N to continue talking business until their next round of whatever card game they decided on next. 

But like any night, the evening was coming to a close and people had to get back home for work the next day. 

Clint and Laura were the first gone and Vision and Wanda had just left, leaning Sam, Bucky, Steve and Y/N. 

“Welp, I guess I’m the next one out. I should get home before midnight since I’m waking up early for another meeting,” Y/N announced, standing and stretching. 

“Do you want me to call a cab for you?” Sam offered his new friend. 

“No, that’s fine,” she grinned, patting his back. “I just need to check the app-”

“I can take you home,” Bucky interrupted, making everyone turn their head to the brunette who was sitting on the couch. 

Steve’s eyebrows raised at the quick proclamation and looked between the two as they stared at each other, both caught offguard by his quick offer. 

“I have some things I need to drop off for your dad,” he was fast to cover. “For a new project we’re working on,” he added. 

“I don’t want to be a bother-” she started, trying to be polite, but also internally hoping he didn’t listen to her.

“It’s not an issue,” he waved off, standing and coming around the furniture. “I’ll go grab those things and we can head out.”

He pointed back toward his room and waited for the all clear. 

“Ok,” she nodded with a smile. “I guess you can make it your way of paying me back for that $60 you owe me for the last poker game.”

He wasn’t expecting that quip and immediately put two and two together, turning slowly and threateningly to Sam. 

Steve tried to stifle a laugh at the conversation, but wasn’t successful. 

“I’m going to kick your ass,” Bucky muttered, walking by Sam giving him a smack to the back of his head. 

Steve’s laugh got louder as he gave up trying to not be too loud. 

“Don’t think I forgot you too, Steven. You also have a debt to my poker skills,” she pointed. 

Steve sombered at the call out and sent a nervous smile to her, before taking the beer from the end table and bringing it to his lips to keep him from having to respond. 

_______

The ride started out a little awkward. Especially since now it was just the two of them and they didn’t have their friends to be buffers. 

The first couple minutes was quiet until Y/N spoke up pointing out a new store she hadn’t noticed on the block before. 

They had small talk about the conversation starter and it got quiet again. 

“You know, you didn’t have to drive me home. I could have called a cab,” she mentioned while looking over at him. 

He smiled and shrugged and moved to just have one hand on the wheel. 

“I wanted to,” he replied honestly, looking back at her before the road. “That and I really do have somethings to drop off for your dad.” He figured if he made it awkward, the deflection would help. 

“Not like you couldn’t come any other day of the week,” she sassed but in a joking manner. 

“Right, right,” he nodded with a small laugh, going along with her sarcasm. “Well, long shift tomorrow and the next day, and the next day…” he waved his hand, selling his point. 

“Hm, what a shame,” she shook her head with a sly grin. 

Bucky turned at that comment. 

“How so?” 

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to join Chloe and I for movie night tomorrow. I think she was inviting Becca, so I figured I’d invite the other Barnes kid,” she smiled looking ahead. She was too nervous to see his reaction in case she was taking too big of a step. 

But all she heard was silence. 

Her cheeks began to burn red. She was scared that if she looked at him, she’d see confusion and realize she played her cards wrong. 

But that was the opposite of what she saw. 

She turned, seeing that at the stop sign they had approached, luckily the only ones at the four way stop, he had turned and was staring at her in shock. But not a bad kind of shock. At least it looked good. He had a soft smile as if he couldn’t believe she would suggest something as amazing as it was simple. 

“You want me to come to movie night with you and Chloe?”

“Well, yeah. It would be like old times but with both of our little sisters,” she replied, refusing to look away from those eyes that she had gone so long without really gazing in. “I hope that didn’t come off weird,” she was quick to redirect. “I just realized I really enjoyed your company tonight, and if I’m being honest, I’m feel we are at a spot where we are trying to step back into our friendship, and-”

“Y/N,” he stopped her when she began fumbling on her words in nerves. She stopped and looked at him worriedly. “I think a movie night is long overdue,” he said simply. “And I’ll be honest as well… I really miss hanging out with you too.”

His hand came to lay on top of her and he gave her a squeeze. Instinctively, she opened her hand to hold his. 

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she smiled widely. 

“It’s been a while.”

“I’m glad that wait time is over then.” 

“I agree completely.”

The tags are being weird and won't let me tag. I'll try again tomorrow, but if you know someone reading this, feel free to tag them!

Moral of the Story Taglist:

@taylormobleyy​​​​ @ximaginxinx​​​​ @vicmc624624​​​​ @leyannraerae​​​​ @lonelylovescompany​​​​ @jessyballetlet​​​​ @angstysebfanebfan​​​​ @tita127​​​​ @youcanbethebeauty​​ @im-a-light-child​​​​ @alyssahowden​​​​ @studiesinspanish​​​​ @natyvwe​ @rebekahdawkins​​​​ @fanfictionjunkie1112​​​​ @millennial-teenybopper​​​​ @scotlandasshole​​​​ @aquariusbarnes​​​​ @shinykoalacat​​​​ @wayward-river​​​​ @buckyswillows @natdrunk​​ @iloveangstposts​​​​ @fanngirl19​​​​ @seybox​​​​​

Marvel Tags:

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My Lovelies forever:

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Bucky Barnes Tags:

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Madrid Week 6: The Honeymoon Phase

Hola a todxs ‼️‼️ Niko here again, and welcome back to week 6’s blog of my study abroad experience in Madrid. This post is a little more text/personal reflection heavy. We'll get to some more fun stuff next week :).

This past week was filled mainly with schoolwork and cooking — not too much exploration of the city — and I stuck mainly to my established routes between home and university. However, looking forward, I think that this routine will be significant in my international experience, too.

For the first few weeks living here, I got out as much as possible and tried my best to take advantage of everything Madrid had to offer. Trying all the cute cafes, seeing all the tourist attractions, exploring new neighborhoods, going out to all the clubs. But now that I’ve been here for a month and a half, it feels a bit like I’m actually ‘living’ here, and less like some kind of extended vacation. 

I actually have schoolwork to do now — projects, papers, presentations — and that leaves me much less time to simply exist. I think I can take that as both a blessing and a curse. For one, it’s a curse, because in reality, I would love to just skip around Madrid all week without any responsibilities, who wouldn’t? 

But now, I think I’m living more like how a student would who’s here year round. Let’s be honest — are Michigan students constantly going around Ann Arbor, discovering all the little nooks and crannies, experiencing all the most hyped up spots and exploring all the paths less traveled? Not really. Maybe I’ll hit the Kerrytown farmers market or the Blind Pig on a weekend, but honestly that’s few and far in between. Majority of my weekends at Michigan are spent around campus and at home.

I don’t want to say we’ve “become complacent” with Ann Arbor, because that inherently has a negative connotation. But we’ve certainly gotten used to living in this city, and simultaneously have tons of other things on our plate that we’ve got to attend to. Things aren’t as shiny and exciting as they were the first month of freshman year, and we simply have less time. It feels like something similar is happening here in Spain, for both reasons (although maybe to a lesser extent — I still have more free time than I do in Michigan, and Madrid is still, well, Madrid, Spain. Not quite like Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA). 

Now, my perspective of Madrid has shifted slightly, and with it my experience. Maybe one could say my “honeymoon phase” is over, but to be honest, I haven’t really started to find a lot of things I really dislike about the city. Things are just a little more like real life, which I think I'll end up being happy for.

As some of you may know, I studied abroad over the summer after my freshman year in Buenos Aires. That program lasted 6 weeks, and I stayed an extra with my parents after the program ended. School wasn’t as demanding, and I had ample free time all week. Those six weeks were incredible. It was my first time living outside of the United States for an extended period of time, my first time ever living in a big city, my first time immersed in another language and culture completely different from my own. 

Upon reflection, I think my ‘honeymoon phase’ lasted all 7 weeks of my experience in Buenos Aires. And now, I’m reaching week 7 here in Madrid. I’ll be here for a total of 15.

My experiences in Buenos Aires and Madrid have been similar in a lot of ways. The architecture of the cities, the language, the general warmth of the people and culture. Simultaneously, they’ve been different in more ways than I can count, and I think a big one I'm slowly transitioning into will be due to the amount of time that I have here.

Now, I’m left with an awareness of the challenge that comes with living in a foreign city, in a culture completely different from my own. In a class that I’m currently taking, 'Social groups and their cultural imaginaries', we had a lesson on Italo Calvino’s Invisible Cities. One of the main themes of the book: Our interpretation of a city or landscape is based on how we are feeling, or what we want at that particular moment.

How will my experience of this city change with my perception and feelings towards it? What will I desire then, and what do I desire now? How will I interact with Madrid in week 15? How will that be different from week 1?

How will I continue to adapt to Spanish culture? What pieces of US culture will I still be holding on to, and what pieces of my identity will change?

Will I continue to find excitement and novelty in this place in week 15, or will I have to make an active effort to do so? Will living in Madrid at week 15 feel like living in Ann Arbor, or Arlington VA? Or are the places and cultures so different that the experience will never be comparable?

Will this lifestyle be something that I want to continue, or will I find that I’m most comfortable in the culture and community I grew up with?

I’ve asked a lot of questions here, most of which I have no semblance of an answer to. Some of them are small, some of them are pretty big. I’ll plan on coming back to this blog, maybe in week 15, maybe in a post-reflection — and I’ll try to answer as many of them as I can. Just writing them here increases my awareness, which enables more active reflection and growth in my day-to-day life.

One action item I’ve realized after writing this blog: I need to start taking a more active effort during the week to continue appreciating Madrid for all it has to offer me. At first, it came really naturally, but now, it’s harder. Moreover, as I’ll be traveling around Europe for the next few weekends, I’ll have less chances to experience Madrid without the pressure of everyday life squeezing around me.

Taking an active effort means giving myself more opportunities to be mindful, present, and appreciative of the environment I’m in. That includes waking up earlier and trying to establish more of a schedule with schoolwork, which will give me time to do things like going out on walks to take photos in the morning, or finding a new bar to enjoy a drink at during the evenings. Also, I hope to start meditating again — which has been something that has served as a point of stability for me throughout college.

Transition periods are never easy, and I've found myself in one yet again. The best advice I can give myself for now is to remain appreciative and accepting of all of the everything lives throws me, knowing that each one is an opportunity for growth — and I'll come out the other side more experienced, wise, and grateful that it happened.

In other news, this week I saw Dune 2 (highly recommend, ESPECIALLY in IMAX), kept cooking, and did a good amount of studying. Also, this past weekend I went to Italy (for the first time ever) and spent the weekend with an old friend. I’m headed to Sevilla this weekend, and I’ll detailing both a little more in next week's blog. Wishing everyone a happy hump day and a strong finish to the week.

Hasta pronto,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

Enough

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing, failing marriage

A/N: hello! happy reading! <3

anon requested: Wanda x reader where they give her divorce paper because Wanda is always gone and distant

Summary: Even the most unbreakable bonds fall victim to the struggles of marriage.

Word Count: 5.1K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

When you first met Wanda Maximoff, it was under unusual circumstances. You were browsing through a farmer’s market a couple of streets over from your apartment, glancing at various booths as you passed them by. It was a quiet day, the sun was shining down brightly, the heat stifling. You liked to get your groceries from these marketplaces, the fruit and vegetables were fresh and fewer people touched them in comparison to a wholesaler franchise. 

You had been stood at one of your favorite fruit stands, warmly greeting the elderly woman who ran the booth and observing some strawberries. Then suddenly, your purse had been snatched from your person. You were startled and caught sight of a man running down, your purse in hand. You intended to run after the thief, but he didn’t get far. 

A red glow encased the man, stopping him in his place a couple of feet away from you. Your eyes widened, as did everyone else’s, at the sight. You turned your head over your shoulder and were mesmerized by a brunette woman, eyes red, and her head tilted slightly to the side. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Considering you didn’t live under a rock, you knew exactly who she was; Wanda Maximoff. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You had seen her on the news quite often. She was an Avenger who had unique abilities that surpassed the rest of the group. Your eyes followed Wanda as she walked past you and toward the man who was still trapped by a glow of red. You moved without thinking, following behind her. After all, it was your purse that had been stolen. 

“Stealing purses from women? How desperate could you be?” Her Sokovian accent met your ears as you stood back slightly. Wanda tore your purse out of the man’s grip and released him. He looked terrified as he took one glance at the brunette before running in the direction he was originally going in. 

Everyone in the marketplace went back to what they were doing while you stood in the middle of the walkway, frozen in place as the Sokovian turned her body around to face you. Television and photos didn’t do her beauty justice; she was captivating. 

There was a glow that surrounded her, a silhouette of gold colliding with her brunette locks. Her eyes were emerald with the smallest specks of blue. Her skin was remarkably flawless. You couldn’t help but wonder what her skincare routine was. 

Wanda smiled lightly at you, amusement present in her eyes. “I don’t have a skincare routine. I just wash my face with a bar of soap and call it a day.” You blushed profusely at Wanda’s words. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Right… she could infiltrate people’s minds too. How could you forget something like that?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“T-thank you for helping me. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that dude actually got away with my purse.”

You mentally berated yourself for stuttering. The woman smiled at you and handed you the object, which you hung on your shoulder. 

“Don’t mention it.” Wanda spoke dismissively with a wave of her hand. “Is there anything I can do to repay you? Maybe buy you a cup of coffee? There’s a really good cafe a couple of blocks down from here.”

You looked at Wanda hopefully, wanting to thank her for what she had done for you.

The brunette took a pause, contemplating her answer before nodding her head. “I could go for some coffee.”

You smiled brightly and pointed behind you with your thumb. “Well, it’s back that way.” You turned back and began walking, Wanda right beside you. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

You sat in a booth with Wanda sat across from you. The cafe was fairly empty, which you were grateful for. Two cups of coffee were resting on the table, steam rising from the hot liquids.

“What’s an Avenger like yourself doing in a little farmer’s market?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee as your eyes peered at the brunette over the rim of the mug. 

“I always loved farmer’s markets. In Sokovia, my country, they were everywhere. So, I really love coming out to these sorts of places. It reminds me of home.”

You tensed at her words. Everyone knew about the rubble that Sokovia had become, and you felt kind of like an asshole for asking. 

“I’m very sorry for what happened to your home.” You spoke sympathetically as you put your mug down gently. Wanda sent you a small smile. “Thank you. It wasn’t the greatest country. We were plagued by poverty, but it was still home.”

The Sokovian looked down to the mug in front of her in thought. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Well, I know a ton of farmer’s markets in this area. I tend to alternate between them, depending on what I need at home.” Wanda’s eyes moved from her mug and to your own. 

“If you want some recommendations, I’m your woman. Not to brag, but I’m kind of a farmer’s market pro.” You brushed off imaginary dust from your shoulders and Wanda let out small giggles at your faux cockiness.

“I would love some recommendations if it means you’ll take me on your shopping trips.” 

You raised your eyebrow at her with a smirk. “If you wanted to spend more time with me, you should’ve just said so, Wanda. No need to be so coy.”

Wanda threw her head back, laughing wholeheartedly at your words. You couldn’t help but feel proud of yourself for making her laugh.

“Nah, I don’t want to spend time with you, I just want your street knowledge.”  Wanda managed to let out, slowly coming down from her laughing fit.

“Oh! So you want to use me? I mean, let’s be honest... I wouldn’t mind if you did.” You spoke dramatically and Wanda laughed once more. 

You smiled as you observed her. Her head was thrown back, cheeks red, and eyes closed as the cutest giggles you’ve ever heard met your ears.

It was then you decided that her laugh was your favorite sound, especially when you were the one to evoke them from the Sokovian.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

Since that day, you guys had exchanged numbers and Wanda had accompanied you shopping once a week. You’d drag the Sokovian by the hand through various markets and give her pointers on which stands sell the best produce. You even introduced her to the vendors, even if they already knew who she was. 

It was a wonderful time and afterward, the two of you would grab lunch in random restaurants, conversating over anything and everything. You had to admit, you looked forward to the one day a week you got to spend with Wanda. So, it kinda sucked whenever she couldn’t make it, away on some sort of mission. 

However, her absence made her presence all the more special. She took time out of her hectic schedule to hang out with you and roam around carelessly.

Truthfully, you were kind of a nobody, just another number to the extensive population of New York. You were the head chef of a fine-dining restaurant, hence your preference for fresh ingredients at home.

It baffled you that someone of Wanda’s caliber would want to spend time with you, but you definitely weren’t complaining. 

As weeks turned into months, you had grown exceptionally close to the Sokovian. You had gone from seeing her once a week to every other day, well, when she wasn’t away for work. 

Wanda would come over to your apartment, sipping on some wine as she watched you cook dinner. You figured she was intrigued by your gracefulness in the kitchen, but really, she was just checking you out.

She thought you looked amazing in your little chef apron, your hair pulled back into a ponytail to keep your hair out of your face. However, a few loose strands fell and framed your face perfectly. 

“Your hair looks sexy pushed back.” Wanda spoke, pulling you out of your concentration. Your eyes moved upward, staring at the woman who sat on a stool on the opposite side of your kitchen island.

“Did you just quote Mean Girls?” You asked amusedly and the brunette shrugged, a small smile on her face.

“Yes, I did. And what about it?” You rolled your eyes at Wanda’s sassiness. You would continue your task, disregarding her comment as best as you could, trying to ignore how flustered the woman made you. 

Once dinner was prepared, the two of you would sit on the couch and choose a random movie on Netflix. Those nights were always filled with commentary and laughter. It was so easy to relax around the Sokovian. Everything seemed to fall into place whenever she was near. 

So, it was no surprise when you realized you had feelings for Wanda that surpassed friendship. You had been nervous about revealing how you felt to the woman, but when you finally did, you felt like an idiot for being scared.

“I have feelings for you. Like, I like you a lot.” You anxiously played with your fingers, scared of Wanda’s reaction. She had been sat on your couch right beside you and you couldn’t meet her eyes.

“Hey.” Wanda spoke, gently gripping your chin and forcing you to look at her. “I like you, too.” Wanda giggled when your eyes widened in surprise.

“What? Don’t look so surprised. We’re practically dating already.” You rolled your eyes at the brunette with a smile on your face. The two of you sat there, smiling at each other like idiots, but neither of you seemed to care.

Your feelings weren’t one-sided and a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. After that day of confessions, you and Wanda became official.

Truthfully, not much changed between you two. You guys acted the same way you always did, but now kissing was added to the list of activities you would participate in. 

ㅤ Wanda Maximoff is the love of your life; ㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ and you would never let her go. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

3 Years Later

You had been dating Wanda for three years and things were going wonderfully. She had moved into your apartment with you. It was amazing, knowing that she would end her days in your bed and you’d wake up with her in your arms the next morning. 

However, one morning, you definitely weren’t particularly happy with your girlfriend. She had dragged you out of bed at 5AM and rushed you to get ready. Wanda didn’t tell you where the hell she was taking you at the ass crack of dawn. Each time you asked, she just shushed you. 

Thirty minutes later, you walked with Wanda hand-in-hand. You knew the route she was taking and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You remained silent until you made it to your destination, and your suspicions had been confirmed; she had taken you to the farmer’s market closest to your apartment.

The area was completely empty, there were fairy lights strung about and a basket full of strawberries sitting on your favorite fruit stand. The sun was rising and the sky looked immaculate, the sun radiating a blood-orange color, complemented by golden yellow undertones. It was beautiful. 

Wanda let go of your hand and moved forward, turning around to face you. It was then that you noticed how anxious she looked. Seriously, it looked like she was about to puke. “What are we doing here? Is everything okay?” Your concern for the Sokovian was evident in your tone. 

Wanda gave you the best smile she could muster in her nervous state and nodded her head. “Everything is okay. Wait, scratch that. Everything is more than okay now that I have you in my life.” You smiled at your girlfriend as she took a deep breath.

“Y/N. Do you remember this spot?” Wanda asked you curiously and you nodded your head, a laugh escaping your lips. “Well, of course. We come here like once a month, duh.” The Sokovian shook her head at your words, rolling her eyes playfully.

“No shit, Sherlock. I meant, do you remember the significance of this specific spot?” You instantly nodded your head.

“This is where a random ass dude stole my purse and you scared him with your powers.” You smiled triumphantly while Wanda giggled. 

“Well, you’re not wrong, but yeah. This is where we first met.” Wanda let out a shaky breath and you stared at her curiously.

“When I first came to America and joined the Avengers, I was petrified. They say this place is the land of opportunity, but it didn’t feel like that to me.”

The Sokovian began to ramble on, her eyes locked onto yours as you listened intently. 

“Coming to America wasn’t a choice that I made, but it was the only option I had. I used to think that I could never find a home in this city, but I was wrong. I found a home. Not with the Avengers or in the Compound where I lived, but in this little market.”

Wanda moved forward, taking a step closer to you and holding both of your hands in her own. “I found you.” Your heart fluttered at her words, heat rising to your cheeks despite the cold morning air. 

“I’m so happy that I decided to come here that morning because if I didn’t, I would’ve missed my opportunity to find love.”

Wanda let go of your hands and you instantly missed the warmth. However, your eyes went wide when your girlfriend got down on one knee. 

“Y/N, you brought hope and love into my life when I ran out of it. I never thought I would entertain the idea of marriage, but now… it’s all I can think about.”

A loud gasp surpassed your lips, your hands flying up to cover your mouth as Wanda pulled out a tiny red velvet box. She opened it slowly and inside sat a stunning engagement ring with a huge diamond sat on top of it.

“Will you marry me?” Wanda looked up at you hopefully as you stared down at her with tears springing to your eyes.

You instantly nodded your head as a few tears fell down your face. “Yes!” You managed to breathe out and the Sokovian was beaming. 

She took your left hand in hers and steadily slid the ring onto your finger before kissing the back of your hand. Wanda stood up hastily and pulled your body into hers by the waist, passionately moving her lips against your own. 

It was euphoric. The sunrise encased your figures in a golden hue, the cold atmosphere turning warm from each other’s body heat. You were two women who loved each other dearly, kissing in the middle of a vacant farmer’s market without a care in the world. 

ㅤ The promise of forever hung in the air that ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤsurrounded you both; and you were free. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

1 Year Later

A year after your engagement, you and Wanda had gotten married. The ceremony was absolutely gorgeous as you were surrounded by your family and friends. You would never forget the way Wanda teared up as you walked down the aisle, your father by your side. 

You recall the small giggles you’d share with Wanda as the two of you stood at the altar. Neither of you could take it seriously, whispering quiet flirtatious remarks to each other. However, your laughs died down when you reached your vows. 

“Wanda, you are my hero. Sure, you may save the world from threats for a living, but you do so much more than that. You save me from purse thieves and kill the spiders in my apartment because I’m too scared to go near them.” 

Wanda and the audience seated in front of you had laughed at your words. You let out a shaky breath, Wanda sending you a reassuring smile before you continued.

“Whenever I order a burger, you always eat the tomato because you know how much I dislike them. You take care of the tiny cuts I get from work, sometimes being a little too dramatic about my injury.

You looked down at your hands nervously before returning your gaze to the brunette who stood in front of you. The white dress she had on was absolutely gorgeous, complementing her emerald eyes perfectly.

“But you’re always so gentle, you’re always there for me. I promise to do the same for you. I won’t kill the spiders for you, but I’ll be there whenever you need me, even when you don’t. I’ll be on standby anyway.”

You were entranced by the woman who stood in front of you. You weren’t too fond of public speaking, but it was easy when Wanda was with you; everything was easier with Wanda around.

“I’m so grateful for you, Wanda Maximoff. You are the other half of my heart and soul that I didn’t realize was missing, but now that I’ve found you; I never intend on letting you go. Sorry, but you’re stuck with me.”

You ended your vows with a small chuckle. Wanda’s eyes were focused on your own, shining brightly as a smile crossed her features. When her turn came around, you were practically a melted puddle by the end of it. 

“Y/N, you are my love. I don’t think you realize just how deeply I love you. I would do anything for you. From fighting off an entire army to letting you eat some of my food even if you said you weren’t hungry.” 

The room filled with laughter once more, a blush coming to your cheeks from being called out. Food just tasted better when it wasn’t your own. 

“I’ll let you fight your own battles, but I’ll always be there for backup. I promise to you that I will do everything in my power to keep you happy and safe because you are my main priority.. I’ll be anything you need me to be; a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, a protector, a wife. You name it and I’ll be it for you.”

You were a crying mess when Wanda finished her vows. You felt an overwhelming feeling of love consume you. Her words struck a chord within you and just… god damn it, you loved her so much. 

After the ‘I do’s,’ you and Wanda kissed as if you were the only people in the room. Honestly, it felt like it at that moment. You had just declared your devotion and unwavering love to one another.

It was the beginning of forever and you couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for you both. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

2 Years Later

Two years of marriage had been interesting. The first year went flawlessly, it was as if you and Wanda were on a high. It was the most intense and passionate year that the two of you had ever shared. The two of you had purchased a condo together, moving out of your former apartment.  

Long nights of love-making that spilled over to the morning, working out together, and spending practically every single minute together possible. Of course, the two of you still had your respective jobs, but that never affected your relationship.

The married life seemed like smooth sailing, but little did you know, there was a thunderstorm not too far ahead. Treacherous waves and destructive lightning were in the near future, you just didn’t know it yet.

Things had started going south at a relatively slow pace. Wanda was progressively assigned to more missions, spending less time at home and an increased amount of time at work. You didn’t let it get to you at the time, it was the way life worked. Wanda was literally a superhero and the world always seemed to need saving. 

This went on for several months. Waking up to an empty bed and going to bed the same way. You rarely saw your wife and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t upset you. It was a drastic change from what you were used to. You only saw the Sokovian for an hour or two, every other day.

And when you did see her, your time was filled with arguing over things that neither of you could really remember. There was a sudden halt to all forms of affection, animosity taking its place. 

It was particularly bad the night you brought up the topic of Wanda’s presence and the lack thereof.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

You had been lying in bed, your head resting against the headboard as you scrolled through your phone. The sound of the front door opening had caught your attention and you quickly tossed your phone aside and stood up, making your way out of the bedroom.

You were met with Wanda taking off her shoes in front of the door. Her eyes darted up to you, the annoyance that crossed her face had hurt you, not that you would tell her that.

“Hey, you’re back early.” You stated, maintaining a happier tone to avoid an argument. Wanda walked past you and toward the kitchen, opening up the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

She shut the fridge and turned around to look at you. “Why? Did you not want me here? Because I can leave if it’s such a problem.” 

You were taken aback by Wanda’s attitude. You spoke one sentence and somehow managed to upset her. It was absurd.

Despite your growing irritation, you remained calm. You hated fighting with your wife and you knew that someone had to be the bigger person.

“No, it’s not a problem at all. I’m glad you’re here. You’ve been gone a lot and I miss you.” You smiled, walking over to your wife who still stood in the kitchen, wrapping your arms around her waist.

However, the brunette grabbed your arms and tore them off her body, whipping around to face you. 

She was clearly angry and you didn’t understand how any of what you said could’ve pissed her off. “Yeah, I’m gone a lot because people need me. I can’t drop everything to be with you just because you’re needy as fuck.” Wanda spoke bitterly as she glared at you. 

Your chest tightened at her words, flashbacks of your wedding day hitting you. You took a deep breath, gulping to prevent a sob from coming out.

“I thought I was your main priority or did you just make that up for show? To have everyone at our wedding believe that I’m of any importance to you?” 

You were getting angry, your voice rose slightly. You felt your blood pressure rising, your body getting hot from your frustration.

“Wanda, I just want to see you more because you’re my wife. It has nothing to do with being needy, seeing you more than an hour or two every few days is a fucking standard in a marriage!”

You took a step back from Wanda as you screamed. You were fed up with being made out to be some clingy person when you were simply being a wife to the Sokovian. She rolled her eyes at you, crossing her arms over her chest as she gazed at you. 

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Well, then maybe our marriage was a mistake.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

Wanda spoke without thinking, not caring about anything other than going for the killshot and winning the argument. Her words seemed to have worked as you visibly deflated.

Your anger was replaced with sadness. You let out a dark chuckle at her words, shaking your head before walking into the bedroom slamming the door behind you, and locking it. 

Wanda didn’t expect that reaction, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was that she had won the argument. She figured she would be sleeping on the couch tonight and she was satisfied with that. You didn’t want to see her and she didn’t want to see you. 

So, the Sokovian brought her bottle of water over to the living room, placing it on the coffee table before crashing onto the couch. She got comfortable, closing her eyes as slumber took over her.

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

3 Weeks Later

Since the argument, things were the same, but different all at once. Wanda still went on mission after mission, but you had taken up more shifts at the restaurant. You didn’t want to be alone in the condo any longer than you had to be. You needed the extra money anyway. 

When you were home, you were silent, no longer bothering to speak to your wife. You were two strangers that occupied a living space together. Wanda’s words played in your head like a broken record. It was all you could think about whenever you’d see her. 

The promise of forever hung in the air that surrounded you both; and you were trapped. Your life had become a vicious cycle of tension and avoidance.

Your engagement and wedding felt like an absolute lie now. They always say the first years of marriage are the hardest, but you didn’t think it would be this difficult.

You and Wanda had petty arguments over the six years you two had been together, but they were rare and were usually resolved quickly.

But not this, no, this entire situation was different. You were in a never-ending loop of anger and resentment, and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

•❅──────────────── ᗢ ‎‎────────────────❅•

Wanda pulled out her keys and unlocked the door to the condo. She had just gotten back from an emergency meeting with the team. The Sokovian stopped in her tracks as soon as she opened the door. 

There you were, sat at the kitchen table. You were leaning back, your arm resting on the table as your hand enclosed around a glass of whiskey. Your bloodshot, red eyes, and the dried streaks of tears that adorned your cheeks were evidence of your crying. Wanda had never seen you so down. 

The brunette slowly shut the door behind her, surprised when you spoke. She didn’t think you’d noticed her presence, your eyes trained on the glass in your hand. “We need to talk.”

Wanda nodded her head at your words and slowly approached the table. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion when she saw a stack of papers on the table. 

Wanda sat down across from you and finally, you looked at her. The Sokovian’s heart clenched as you stared at her emotionlessly. You downed the entire glass of alcohol, not even wincing at the burn, but welcoming it. You put the glass down and cleared your throat before speaking. 

“Wanda, I love you so much, but we can’t keep living like this.” Your voice was hoarse, a result of your earlier crying and the beverage you had just ingested. Wanda stared at you in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” The Sokovian felt fear slowly creeping in. She didn’t have a good feeling about this. 

“Oh, come on. You know what I’m talking about. We act like we don’t even know each other anymore. We aren’t even wives anymore, we’re just two people who live together.” You didn’t have the energy to yell anymore, your voice was soft and calm.

Wanda still didn’t understand the direction this conversation was going in. Nothing could’ve prepared her for your next words. 

“I visited a lawyer and hired him. He was going to give you these, but I decided to do it myself.” You sat up and pushed the papers across the table. “I’m officially serving you with divorce papers.”

Wanda’s heart stopped as she comprehended your words. She couldn’t believe this was happening. 

“Wha- what? A divorce? Please tell me you’re joking.” Wanda looked down at the papers and back up to you in utter disbelief.

“I wish I was joking, but I’m not. I want a divorce.” You were eerily calm, maintaining your composure while Wanda felt like she was going to crumble to pieces at any given moment. 

“Is this about my missions? If it is, I’ll ask Steve to relax my workload. I’ll be around more often and I’ll stop being an asshole. Just, please don’t do this. I’ll make it right, I promise.” Wanda leaned forward and reached out for your hand pleadingly, but you didn’t let her.

You pulled your arm off of the table and shook your head. “Wanda, you shouldn’t have to make it up to me in the first place. It shouldn’t take a divorce for you to finally act like a proper wife. I’m not changing my mind.” You spoke firmly, but Wanda refused to accept your words.

The Sokovian abruptly stood up, the loud sound of her chair scraping against the floor filled the room.

“So, that’s it? You’re just gonna give up on everything we have? You’re gonna throw in the towel because things are a little rough right now? You’re a fucking coward, Y/N!” 

Wanda was enraged as you stared at her unimpressed. Her chest was heaving as she glared at you. “This is exactly why this needs to happen. We can’t have one conversation without someone yelling.” You stood up slowly, rounding the table and making your way to the front door. 

Wanda watched your every move like a hawk. You reached for your purse that hung beside the door and flung it over your shoulder before turning around to face the Sokovian. “I suggest you get a lawyer as well.” You spoke simply and turned back around, your hand on the doorknob. 

Something in Wanda went off, seeing you about to walk out had raised alarms in her mind. You were really leaving her. The brunette moved without a single thought, rushing over to you as you pulled the door open. She gripped your wrist tightly, causing your head to turn back to her, a sad expression on your face.

“Please don’t leave me. I love you and you love me. Does that not mean anything to you anymore?” Wanda’s anger dissipated to desperation. She stared at you right in the eyes, begging you to stay. Pleading you not to put an end to your marriage.

“Our love means the absolute world to me, Wanda. But sometimes… love just isn’t enough.”

You smiled sadly at the Sokovian before gently pulling her hand off of your wrist. It was kinda difficult considering how firm her grip had been, but you managed. 

You walked out and all Wanda could do was sit there and watch as you walked down the hall and away from all of the memories you had made together. You never thought that your marriage with the brunette would come to an end, let alone an ugly one.

But your marriage had become toxic, slowly feeding away at any sort of happiness you had left. It was a painful decision to come to; a divorce, but it felt like the right one. The Sokovian was right, you did love her; which is why you needed to put an end to the torture.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤ Wanda Maximoff is the love of your life; ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ but you had to let her go.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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Multiple requests are fine! Requests are unlimited. 

This is a cool idea so hell yeah

Yandere Adult Trio finding you after a few years after escape CW: physical abuse, mentions of kidnapping, blood, needles

Hisoka

This is rather nice actually. A quiet life in the middle of nowhere where no one questions you. It’s somewhat of a farming community you live in. You work at a farmers market, selling fresh fruits and vegetables to the same people every day. Everyone here recognizes you under your fake identity, and treats you as part of the community. As if you didn’t randomly appear one day. As if you aren’t in hiding. 

It’s been about three years you would say. Three years since you escaped... him. You dyed your hair, wore colored contacts and completely changed your clothing look. You moved countries, learned a new language, and completely dropped your entire identity and life. It was the only way you could escape him. How you escaped him remains a mystery to you too. He was always attentive but- you escaped that last time. Slipped through his fingers. 

Mr. Grady, the oldest farmer in town hobbles over to your stand and smiles with his big loose mouth. He only has a few teeth but you don’t need many when you blend all of your food anyway.

“Oh hello Charlie. How are you today?” He asks with his frail old man voice.

You smile back and begin bagging up the usual for him. “Very good Mr. Grady. How are you?” 

Your conversations are never short but it’s almost become a highlight of your day to hear the old man ramble. “Oh you know. The sheep dog are sick, so I tried rounding those cows up with my cat. He practically got trampled!” He throws his arms up as if it’s unbelievable. You somewhat listen as he continues. “... moral of the story is, cats are unreliable and only have two lives.” 

As you hand the paper bag over the counter the old man stops to think for a moment. “I saw someone new up by the shops today, he was a real character. Quite tall too.” 

You nod and get the change for the money he hands you, “Oh really? Did you talk to him?”

“He wasn’t much interested in me. Though he didn’t seem like a normal traveler. He was much too eccentric for that.” He offers one last toothless smile, “Don’t work too late. It’s time for the foxbears to come out of hibernation soon.” 

Before you can further question him, he hobbles off pretty quickly for an old man. Of course you’re overreacting but someone eccentric and tall randomly coming to town? No it couldn’t be. It’s been over three years since then. And he wouldn’t go this far for you would he? 

After closing up the shop you grab the keys to your car and head for the ‘parking lot’. It’s a field with white lines spray painted on the grass with a single light to illuminate the whole place. You hop into your car and are just glad to finally go home after a long day. It was rather slow but that’s because it was a tuesday. It is very busy on friday-monday. You start your car, and turn on the air, you plug your phone in and relax some into your seat.

You adjust your rear view mirror and scream when you do. You just barely catch the reflection of someone in the back of your car. He’s sitting in the back seat watching you closely. You decide against turning around to face him.

“Hello y/n. Or is it Charlie?” He asks calmly, as if it were a casual conversation.

You clear your throat and try to control your shaking. “What are you doing here Hisoka?” 

He ignores your question completely. “You really know how to choose a nice town. Quiet, friendly, off the grid.”

“I suppose.” Your hands grip on the steering wheel tightens. “How did you find me?”

“Oh, well, it was quite hard really. You did a good job. But once I found the first person who helped you change your identity, it was just a matter of going down the chain.”

You’d rather not think about what happened to those people. “And what are you doing here?” You repeat your question.

“Well there’s only one thing I’m here for of course.” He leans back in the seat, just barely having enough room for his legs. “I’ve come to bring you home.” 

“I don’t want to. It’s nice here.” You state as if you have an option. 

He leans forward this time, and cranes his head around the drivers seat to whisper in your ear, “It’s really not up to you pet.”

Before you can even react, there’s a rope around your neck, and he’s pulling you hard against your seat. You claw at the rope and gasp for air. You try to turn some but the rope burn hurts too much. You manage to get your fingers under the rope around your neck, and throw yourself forward.

His head smacks the back of your seat but your head smacks the wheel, honking the horn. There’s no doubt that you’re bleeding. You throw the rope over your head and jump out of the car, and run. But he’s much faster.

He jumps out of the car and before you know it, he grabs the back of your shirt, pulling you to him. He holds you against himself with his arms, leaving no room for escape. But you have one more trick up your sleeve. You throw your head back as hard you can and headbutt his face. There’s a loud crack that you can only assume is his nose. 

He groans and his nails dig into your skin through your clothes. “You really got feisty while I was away.” His nails begin to pierce your skin, ripping through the cloth of your shirt. “But it’s no matter, it only turns me on more.”

Illumi

To say you’re on the run is an understatement. You’re practically sprinting away even all these years later. You know that if you stop for even a few days that he would find you. You spend no more than three days at a time in the same place. You’ve travelled half of the world by now- and quite honestly it has been somewhat nice. Not just the freedom from the suffocating grasp of your captor Illumi, but being able to see the world. You would never have done this if not for the situation you were in. Maybe things happen for a reason.

It feels like forever since you’ve been travelling. But the reality is that it’s only been two years. Two long years of not stopping. You have a new name and often go days without eating. It’s not easy getting money when you aren’t in the same area for long. 

It was late night when you escaped from him. He never let his guard down so you just had to go for it. He wasn’t expecting you to make a mad dash out of the manor, and hide out in the woods for a few days. Slowly but surely you managed to get out of the mountain prison, leaving through the small door next to the office. The man working at the entrance was sipping tea and reading the newspaper when you left much too busy to pay attention to you. You’re more than sure he was punished for missing you leaving. But sometimes you wonder if he chose to ignore you on purpose, and let you escape. 

It’s a beautiful morning. You slept on a few blankets and a sweatshirt as a pillow on the ground of a cave. It was hard to get any sleep at first but you managed to get used to the back pain. The sun is shining through the canopy, streams of light illuminating the cave. The grass outside of the cave is wet with dew droplets. It’s only slightly humid but the breeze with the warm weather is heavenly. It’s not every day you get good weather like this. 

You sit up and stretch your arms in the air, yawning tiredly. Your usual morning routine was to get a fire started, and put the tiny kettle above it. In your small backpack you have a few essential items. Coffee being one of them. You get out your tin can after jimmying a fire and filling the kettle with water from a nearby stream. You drop some instant coffee grounds in the kettle and bask in the aroma of coffee. 

You pour yourself a cup and put some powdered milk packets and splenda in the cup, stirring it with a stick that looked relatively... clean. But you had a feeling that today was the day. You weren’t sure why this morning you knew he would find you. But you did. Almost on cue, you hear footsteps approach behind you.

You bring the tin cup to your lips, taking a long sip of the hot coffee. 

“So this is where you’ve been.” You don’t even flinch at his words. You knew this was inevitable. 

The coffee burns your tongue. “Yes, I must have stayed here for a day too long. Don’t you agree Illumi?”

“Yes. It was quite stupid.” There’s a silence between the two of you. You continue sitting on the ground with your back facing him. “Are you ready to leave?” He asks as if he’s picking you up from and elementary sleep over. 

“May I finish my coffee first?” 

“I suppose.” Though he doesn’t move from his spot, his gaze staying firm on your back.

Luckily you haven’t spent all this time just running, but training. In self defense to be specific.

Quickly you jump up and turn around, you move your arm to throw the coffee on him in hopes of burning him. He grabs your wrist, but the coffee does land on his forearm. You bring your leg up to kick him in the side but he grabs it right as you make contact. The only hit you actually manage to land is when you throw a punch with your free hand at his throat. If it were anyone else they would be stunned for at least a few seconds. But this wasn’t anyone. He shows no sign of flinching. 

“Are you ready now?” He asks.

You allow your body to relax and he lets go of your limbs. “Go ahead, put a needle in me.”

He doesn’t argue with your point, pressing a needle to your chest and the last thing you hear is “Don’t fight it.”

Chrollo

The very thought that all of these people by his side had no qualms about you being kidnapped makes you sick. All of them had many chances to set you free and yet they stayed loyal to your captor, as if this were normal and okay. So many people witnessing this unhealthy obsession and not even muttering a word about it. Honestly you find it more ridiculous than you do sad. How did he have all these people under his thumb? Was he really just that powerful? 

Wherever he went, you went. One day he had what they called, ‘a mission.” You had caught a cargo train out west and jumped on, as stowaways. It’s not as if anyone checked each boxcar. All of you had fallen asleep in the small space of the boxcar. The train was at full speed, with no sign of stopping anytime soon. Cargo trains were much faster than you anticipated. Once you were sure everyone was asleep, you stood up casually as if you were just stretching. In case someone woke up. Which they did. Nobunaga peeled his eyes open and examined you. But he was too slow, you leaped out of the car before anyone could grab you. You went tumbling through a field after hitting your head very hard against the ground. It wasn’t the perfect escape but it was an escape.

After that you found a nearby farm, and while it was still night you stole a horse from a barn. You rode for many miles, until days later you found a very busy city. Somehow you managed to make a life for yourself, becoming a low grade secretary. 

Today was a slow day, your employer did not have many clients today. You checked in on your boss to see if she needed anything but she waved you away. You decided to play solitaire on the computer, a perfectly valid way to waste time. 

The phone rings and you pick it up while still keeping one hand on the mouse to play solitaire. 

“Hello this is the Seedling Lawyer’s Office. How may I help you?” You stick the phone between your ear and shoulder, playing solitaire. 

There’s a chuckle from the other side of the phone. “So it is you.”

Your blood runs cold, and the only thing that your head is telling you is ‘run’. “I’m not sure who this is, could you please state your name and purpose for calling?” Playing dumb seems like the only decision right now. 

“My darling, there’s no need for the semantics. I’m coming to pick you up right now.” Perfectly on cue, the sliding doors of the building open and you drop the phone, standing up abruptly. 

His eyes show affection and kindness, but there’s a glimmer of... rage. You look around but no one is in the waiting room and you know the cameras are fake for security. This is a cheap layer’s business after all. 

“There’s no need for the semantics Chrollo.” You try to say mockingly but it comes out more as fearful and unsure.

His smile drops and he begins walking towards your desk. “Do you understand the consequences of your actions y/n?” He scoffs kicks the heavy desk to the side as if it weighed nothing. “I missed you of course.” 

“Ah well, maybe I needed a break.” It comes out as a question. 

He corners you against the wall and places a rough hand on your cheek. “Oh darling, oh my sweet darling.” His smile reappears, as sweet as it always has been. “I’m going to kill your entire family.” His hand grips the side of your face roughly and he tilts your head back. 

“You really are something. I would never hurt you, you know.” He places a gentle kiss against your cheek despite his tight grip on the side of your head. “But that doesn’t mean there aren’t consequences for what you’ve done.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab his wrist. “Well you’re hurting me right now.” 

Immediately he drops his hand and sighs. “I would never hurt you intentionally, or if not necessary.” He grabs your throat, holding it so tightly you wonder if you’ll ever be able to talk again. He’s crushing your air ways and vocal cords. You claw at his wrist but its useless. “Disciplining you does not count as hurting you.” He leans forward, and if you could yelp you would.

He bites your cheek, definitely leaving a mark. After drawing blood, he licks it up. Your vision is going dark but you’re simply not strong enough to fight back. “Do you understand darling?”

Do you have any hcs abt Last Legacy modern au?

Sorry for the wait! I just write very slow 🥺😭 btw I am still writing other requests! I'll post them as soon as I finish writing ✨😌😏 And YES I still take requests😏😏😏

Lol btw I haven't played the catboy Felix tale yet but found his delicious CG. Also, there might be typos etc. My dyslexia was a hoe for the last couple of days (･_･

Last Legacy Modern Au Headcanons

Sage

Lmao the first time you went to his place you faced with an ancient-looking old computer that he found in a garage sale

"It still works"

"Sage with its monitor alone you can heat your entire house in winter"

"Aye, but I don't have to use that to get heated if you catch my drift."

Let me give you a concept: thrift store dates

You took him to a thrift store once and thought it might be fun

But at the moment you entered the store Sage found a damn fake fur jacket and gold sunglasses

He will buy anything with a famous brand logo and say it is original and is an antique

But he'll only do that to annoy people

Mostly.

Sage cares about his looks but doesn't go crazy about it

Before dating you he just lived his life like a street kid like in cyberpunk 2077

Sage and Tulsi grew up in slums and then Sage got an apartment so that Tulsi could grow up in a safe environment

He didn't go to college but made sure that Tulsi did

Sage basically works as a mercenary in the modern au as well

He travels a lot and has to disappear for a looong long time

Tulsi is used to it but you aren't

Once you two are in a relationship and he feels ready to settle down he might get a job closeby to your shared house

You made him realize that he needs his family around him

And now he is not alone to carry all the burden by himself

He knows that if he can't make it in time you will be there to help out Tulsi or take care of all the work for him

He feels lighter around you

Also, he makes many people jealous on the streets lol

Whenever you two are on a date no one can believe that you, a literal divine being, could look at a Boku no pico catboy maid-sama man like him.

He is also jealous of you

But never possessive

He likes to send you out of context memes in the worst possible times ever

Like you got Luigi and Mario animations, doing the waltz, with the Britney Spears' Toxic song during the busiest hour of your shift

He also texted "This us"

The audacity

Sage would also LOVE video games

Especially Final Fantasy games

But he suck at playing them so he makes you play instead

And he'll give instructions too

"I saw a checkpoint in the other room babe,"

"Love, I gotta run away from the boss right now."

"It's not the boss, bosses have their boss rooms. This is an obstacle"

Sage also suck at filing taxes

So good luck with that

I can see Sage having PTSD treatments because of his traumatized childhood and the life he had to live until now after settling down with you

You convinced him to go to therapy and Tulsi backed you up

So he will take medications every day

At first, you had to remind him a lot, but then he just made it an addiction and now doesn't need reminders

He was never happier and finally had a taste of a healthy and caring relationship with you

He is also not so terrible with putting the IKEA furniture together.

Felix

He got expelled from Harvard.

Then his rich father had to convince the headmaster to reconsider the decision and Felix ended up with suspension instead smh

Felix's grades are great but he has disciplinary issues

I can see him majoring in criminal justice and mortuary science

Or maybe just mortuary science

Escell was very disappointed in him.

He is also famous for dating with the valedictorian among Harvard graduates

Then they broke up and you yeeted yourself in his life

Or he yeeted himself to your arms

He literally dramatically fell one day and you happened to be close to catch him

Then the Titanic music played in the background with the slow summer rain fell down to your heads

You are hot so he was flustered

Like he internally screamed when he fell in your arms

Or shall I say fell in love?

You two then started as friends since not too later he found out that he might actually have a chance with you after you mentioned your love of video games and romance books

After starting to date he confessed that he has an AO3 account asddgf

Rime was a burden too

He was the one who broke Felix's heart

But still wanted him to only love him and him alone

Then you were like

"Hoe listen to me..."

Rime hot

But no

Felix cried until morning the day you fist fought Rime in the grocery store parking lot

AAHGDHFA

Scylla secretly approved your determination that day and watched the fight afar

Escell got drunk and Florian came home the day after for everyone's explanations

The deeper your relationship got the more a part of his family you become

I mean every Friday it was now a routine that Felix and you attended family dinner

No one even asks anymore they just put your plate down and Escell hides his most expensive wine bottles from everyone

Felix is not good to live in his own house though

He always lived with someone in the house so he wasn't alone

Ever.

When you moved into the same house with him Felix was relieved

You two will be emos together and watch fifty shades of grey movies during the quarantine

Please ask Felix if he thinks the movie is interesting, he will avoid you all day long

Then become a blanket burrito at night lmao

Oh btw he might tell you random facts about mortuary

Like you are in the shower and he comes in to brush his teeth

Then he'll tell you a fact you didn't have to know then leave

"Truly fascinating, if you ask me."

He is also the type to text you from the other side of the room

Or call you from the other room to ask you if you can bring him something to eat

Felix would also love to go to the farmers' market too

"Finally some quality food."

Whenever you two go on a vacation together

lmao someone ALWAYS takes his hand and reads his palm

Only to be ended up getting scolded and getting a proper palm reading from Felix

Anisa

Call her and ask if she wants drive tru

"Love, it is thREE IN THE MORNING, I have work tomorrow-"

"So two? Or nah?"

"Get a coffee."

Actually, she wants a cookie but won't admit it

She knows you'll get her a cookie

You always get her a cookie with coffee

Anisa might be a great investigator if you ask me

If not a detective or a police chief or lieutenant

But I think she would work in law enforcement

Or she might also start her own company and rise as well

Unlike Sage and Felix, Anisa will not live in the same house with you before she decides to settle down for good

It's not because she doesn't want you around her

But because she is always at work and doesn't want to leave everything to you to handle at home

But she is always with you on her day offs

Will call you once a day at least

Text you during her breaks or whenever she can

If you can show up at her workplace during the lunch break she will take you to the nearest coffee shop

"Their coffee is not nearly as good as yours, but among other shops, this is the most drinkable one."

She will spoil you during your dates!

She likes to see you smile and will do anything for you to have a good time with her

So expect sweets, movie nights, amusement park dates, or just traveling during both of your yearly week/month offs/breaks

She won't admit it but likes it when you try to match your clothes with hers

She will know your favorite everythings lol

Take her to a dinner date and she will be so happy and feel spoiled

She will let you paint her nails

Let you get all the hot water in the shower

Will let you wear her clothes

Pillow fights are allowed every now and then

When she gets sick she'll try to power through but likes it when you baby her

Whenever you get sick she will try to not fuss over you but every 15 minutes she'll ask to take you to see a doctor

She is a cereal gal

You might have to drag her to bed many nights because she will take work at home

Oh my god, do play dungeons and dragons with her

If you visited somewhere she has never been she will ask a lot of questions about your trip

Likes to binge a tv series you two found online

Also enjoys just silent but comfortable moments with you

When you read your book she will gaze at you

All heart eyes

Will put her favorite picture of you two as her profile picture in her social media accounts

Will like your every post

ALWAYS TEXTS BACK TO YOU. ALWAYS.

Never leaves you on read/seen

She will either give you a proper text or just let you know that she is busy at the moment

Also if you come home later than her she will ask if you want her to prepare anything special you want for dinner

otherwise, she'll do dishes that you both like anyway

If she is late, she'll call you to ask if you need anything from the grocery store, etc.

Some AUs that I'm too lazy to write an actual fic about (part 1)

🕯HartBreak but Bret is like Pygmalion and Shawn is like Galatea

🌰y'all it's like midnight, my brain is dead so forgive the messy writing

⏳Some mentions of death but it isn't descriptive

🕰taglist babyyyy: @terraryting @prettyboymichaels @old-no7 @beesworld23 @piratewithvigor

🖋share some HCs of your own if you want to :D)

🎨 happy reading, HCs below the cut

🗝 Bret is an art student who visits a museum. After hours of looking at paintings, Bret retreats to the hedge maze behind the building for fresh air. He wanders through the green walls and passes by moss-covered statues and cracked pillars. He sees a statue that's positioned at the center of the maze, away from prying eyes and clicking cameras. Bret is curious and takes a closer look. The statue is in perfect condition. It has no cracks or missing limbs; details that should've been washed out from the passage of time are still visible. The sculpture is in a kneeling position, its hands open as if it cradled something that isn't there anymore. Its face is a snapshot of grief, cheeks adorned with stone tears. Without much of a passing thought, Bret reaches out and caresses the statue's cheek.

🗝 Stone turns into skin, empty eyes blossom into bright blue hues. The statue becomes man and his name is Shawn. The man is terrified, Bret even more so. They're frozen, both of them too afraid to move. Years seem to pass until Bret calls out to Shawn.

🗝"Are you okay?" "I was just a statue a minute ago, what do you think?"

🗝Bret finds himself making a cup of coffee in his dorm kitchen for a stranger he met in the most unnatural way possible. He offers Shawn his couch to sleep on for the foreseeable future. The blonde didn't seem to mind. A slightly springy couch was better than the stone pedestal he used to kneel on.

🗝Bret proceeds to teach Shawn about the intricacies of modern living. The lessons go well up until Bret tries to explain how phones and computers work. After Shawn accidentally blinds himself with the camera flash, Bret decides they should move on to other things.

🗝In exchange for Bret's hospitality, Shawn makes himself useful. He sweeps away the crumpled papers on the floor and cleans out the numerous paintwater-filled jars that Bret has around his dorm. He cooks too (he literally just puts hot water in cup noodles and calls himself a chef).

🗝The two fall into a routine of sorts. They grow closer and slowly open up to each other. They know things about one another even if they didn't talk about it before.

🗝Shawn would offer Bret some fruit that he bought from the farmers market and coincidentally, he bought Bret's favorite ("Strawberries? How'd you know I like them?" "Just a hunch"). Bret would close the curtains every morning to stop the sunlight from glaring into Shawn's eyes ("You seem like someone who sleeps in").

🗝Shawn gets paranoid whenever Bret goes out.

🗝"What if an arrow hits you in the chest?" "That won't happen, Shawn" What if one of those fast metal things crash into you?" You mean cars?" "What if you DROWN?" "In what? A puddle?"

🗝Bret sometimes sketches Shawn out of boredom. Shawn teases him about it.

🗝"Try not to draw my bad side, Bret" "What bad side?"

🗝So they fall in love. Yay love!

🗝But what if this wasn't the first time they did?

🗝Shawn and Bret have met in the past, in the long gone past. Centuries ago, Bret was a sculptor who dreamed to finally create his magnum opus. And after months of chiseling and sleepless nights, he finally did. It was sculpted in such a way that it looked like it was ready to breathe and walk right off its pedestal. The statue was beautiful, perfect some would say. Bret fell in love with it. He fell in love with the statue he named Shawn and prayed everyday just to have Shawn love him back.

🗝The goddess of love and beauty took notice of Bret's prayers and granted his wishes. Shawn came to life and the two loved each other wholeheartedly. The goddess that gave Shawn life didn't ask for much in return, as long as Bret would continue to pray to her. Bret agreed, it was simple enough.

🗝However, Bret soon forgot about his end of the bargain. Instead of worshipping the goddess, he worshipped and loved Shawn with every fiber of his being. Fueled by Bret's words, Shawn began to believe that he was better than the goddess of beauty and love.

🗝Naturally, this angered the goddess. And as punishment, she cursed Shawn to witness Bret's death over and over again. No matter which life they're in, Shawn is destined to meet Bret, fall in love with him, and watch him die forever. Once Bret dies, he becomes a statue and once Bret touches him, he comes back to life.

🗝Remember the part where I described that statue Shawn looked like he was cradling something and crying? He was cradling a dying Bret. And while he was dying, Shawn was slowly turning into stone. To make it angstier: Shawn is fully conscious when he's a statue. So this means, Shawn watched Bret's corpse deteriorate. And that memory keeps on repeating inside his head as decades pass. He forgets everything once he becomes human though. So he experiences the same feeling of sadness, gried and dread every time.

🗝So, this au has no happy ending. The cycle will repeat itself. Only sad ending— unless?👀

Join Part 2 (Finan x Reader x Sihtric)

Join Part 2 Warnings: smut Finan and Sihtric have to go on a mission, but when they come back, they are ready to take the next step before somebody gets Y/N’s heart.

Your days go by uneventfully, but at the back of your mind, you notice the change on Finan and Sihtric. They spend much more time in your company. They come to the alehouse every morning to say hi, and they wait for you every night to accompany you home if you work late. They kiss your cheek, hold your hands and hug you without reason. They become a part of your daily routine, and that is why you feel so lost the day they have to go to King Alfred with their Lord.

It’s still early in the morning when you go to the gate to say goodbye. Your throat is tight, and your stomach is in knots as you walk closer and closer to them. Finan is ready to jump on his horse when he notices your approaching form. He smiles at you, standing back on the ground.

“Y/N,” he greets you, hitting Sihtric’s shoulder, who looks at your way with a matching smile. “I thought I come to say goodbye,” you tell them, a little bit embarrassed. At home, it sounded like a good idea, but now that you are here, you are not sure about it. “We are always happy to see you,” Sihtric reassures you. “When will you come back?” “Hopefully, we will not be away more than two months,” Finan answers, squeezing your upper arm to calm you down. “Take care of yourselves,” you tell them, almost like an order as you step closer to Sihtric to hug him. His arms go around your waist instantly, kissing your temple. “Take this,” he says when you move back from his embrace. You look down to see what he is talking about, and you notice a small dagger in his hands. “I don’t…” you start to argue, but the Dane doesn’t let you. “Please,” he says, and you take the weapon from his fingers to place it in your belt. “Where is my hug?” Finan smiles cheekily to cheer up your sullen mood. You laugh at his trying and walk into his waiting arms. He squeezes you close to himself, kissing your hair. “Don’t be reckless,” you tell him, looking up at him. “Don’t anger anyone if it’s not necessary.” “Aw, it’s like you don’t know me,” he winks at you, and you hit his arm playfully as you step back from him. “Just… be safe,” you tell them at the end when you notice Uhtred and Osferth coming your way in their horses. “You too,” Sihtric says. “We will miss you,” Finan adds more seriously. You watch them outside the gate till they disappear from your sight.

You almost feel pathetic. It’s ridiculous how much pain you feel in your chest, thinking about the long weeks without them. They are your friends and nothing more. You are still a silly little girl if you think otherwise, and your heart will break if you don’t sober up from your pointless dreams. You have to focus on your own life, and before you know, the two men will be at the alehouse every morning as usual.

The two months have become almost a year.

The only reason you can keep your sanity because you always hear about them from travelers. They talk about their mission and the new Dane village they burned down. The months go agonizingly slow, and you never can be sure they are still well and safe. You try to move on with your life. You can’t be worried for the two men who don’t even feel the same as you.

You are at the market when you hear the news and see the gates opening. They come back. At first, you don’t want to go there. They are not your men to wait for, but before you know, your legs take control over your decisions. You watch them hopping off their horses with smiles and happy shouts as the others circle around them until they disappear behind the people. You bite your lip, thinking of your next move. You could go and welcome them, or you could go home and don’t let your hopes up. You have a date tonight. You should concentrate on it. You have a life beside the Lord’s men, and if you want to do something with your life, it has to stay that way.

You go home without welcoming them with a tightened throat to get ready for tonight. You invited over the farmer boy who asked you out a few times till you said yes. You are still unsure if you want something from him, but it’s the first step to move on, and you have to do it. You make chicken with tomatoes and cheese. When you are done, you go back to your room to get dressed. You braid your hair and put on your prettiest blue dress with darker blue motives. You feel pretty and satisfied, but it still feels wrong. Your cleavage feels provocative, but it doesn’t show more of your bosom than usual, and you want to hide under one of your pelts despite the warmth of the house. When the boy arrives, at first, it feels pleasant. He brings you flowers and compliments on your appearance. He talks to you about his day, and he seems respectful and kind, but as the night goes on, the awkwardness becomes too loud between you two. When you are done with eating, he looks around desperately to find some topic you could talk about while you wish he would go home. He is a nice guy and you sure he will find a girl who will be lucky to be with him, but it isn't you. The knock on your door saves the unpleasant silence, and you almost jump up from your seat to answer it. “H-hey,” you murmur, looking up at the two men. They are still in their travel wears, and their face is stoic as they look down at you and over your shoulder. “You didn’t come to see us,” Finan says, offended. He looks like a kid who doesn’t get his favorite toy, while Sihtric looks like a… Dane. His expression is hard and unfriendly, and you sure, a wrong move from the guy behind you, and he is ready to fight with him. “Could we talk to you?” He asks, and without waiting for an answer, he walks in next to you. “Alone,” he adds, staring at your guest. “It’s better if I go.” The boy says, standing up from his seat. “We will talk later. I enjoyed your company,” he continues. He has to squeeze himself out because Finan doesn’t move to let him go so easily. When he is gone, Finan steps in, closing the door behind himself. You feel guilty under their gaze, although you didn’t do anything. You are pathetic. You feel like you cheated on them. You love these guys so much you are want to be loyal in a nonexistent relationship. “You didn’t come to see us,” Finan repeats it again. “I’m sorry,” you answer, still confused. “Who was the boy?” Sihtric asks angrily. You never saw him like this. If you wouldn’t be sure about his relationship with Finan, you would say he is jealous. “Do you love him?” He asks when you don’t answer immediately. “No,” you shake your head. “We are not together. It was our first date.” You don’t know why do you feel the need to explain yourself. They are not yours, and they were away for almost a year. “We need to talk,” he answers. “We should have talked to you before our journey.” He looks over to Finan, who nods and guides you to a chair before he follows Sihtric’s moves and takes a seat in front of you. “Are you okay?” It’s your turn to ask questions. “Something happened?” “Don’t worry, we are alright,” Finan rushes to calm you down, reaching over the table to grab your hand. “We want to talk about us.” “Us?” “We love you,” Sihtric says, plain and simple. Your whole body froze. What does he mean? “Why did you do that?” Finan asks his boyfriend when he sees your reaction. “What he tries to say… We care about you a lot. We wanted to talk about it before we went away.” “I care about you too,” you answer them. “Good job,” Sihtric says sarcastically to Finan. “As I said, we love you. We want to be with you. We want you to join our relationship. I mean, of course, if you feel the same.” Your ears ring as you hear their words. Your whole body is numb, and you can’t move, doesn’t matter how much you want to. You are afraid if you move or say something, you wake up alone in your bed, far away from Finan and Sihtric. It’s not hard to believe them. Seeing their care for you and their touches and kisses with this knowledge, everything seems whole and easy. The only thing you have to do is not wake up from this dream. “Y/N,” Finan says, leaning closer. “Do you hear us?” “I-I...” you stutter. “Do you feel the same?” Sihtric asks you. “Or do you see a chance to feel?” “I-I…” “I think we broke her,” Finan notes with a half-smile. He tries to suppress his nervousness with a joke. “I love you too,” you answer after a while. Your voice is quiet and shaky. “Both of you,” you add, looking between the two men. You don’t care. If it’s a dream, you will enjoy every minute of it. “So the boy…” Sihtric starts, but Finan doesn’t let him continue. “Leave it,” he says. “She loves us. You love us?” He asks, turning to you. “Yes,” you laugh at his expression. “For a while now.” Both of their faces lit up, hearing your answer. The weight they carried during the whole journey leaves their shoulders. The past year was hard on them. There wasn’t a day when they didn’t think about you or the possibility you find someone else, and maybe you got married while they were away. When they didn’t see you in the welcoming crowd, they thought about the worst, and when Gisela told them about your date, they couldn’t run fast enough to stop whatever is going on between you and the stranger. “We missed you,” Finan says much calmer, standing up to pull you in his arms. His palms caress your sides as you stand against his hard body. His breath is warm on your face, and you have to cling to his shoulders because of your weakened knees. He leans closer till his lips touch yours. The kiss is careful and soft. His beard tickles your skin until he deepens his movements. Your breath is stuck in your lungs, and a moan leaves your mouth as you feel Sihtric stepping behind you. His hands grab your hips, kissing your shoulders and neck. Your whole body shakes under their tender touches. Your stomach is in knots, and the warmth between your legs becomes too much. As you decided before, if it’s a dream, you will enjoy every moment of it. “My room…” you sigh breathlessly when you Finan breaks the kiss. “Are you sure?” Sihtric asks behind you. His breath is warm on your ear, and hearing his low voice, you turn around to stand on your tiptoes for another kiss. His kiss is much different than his boyfriend's. He knows what he wants and doesn’t care about tenderness. He grabs your hair at your nape to pull you closer and doesn’t stop till you push him away for breath. Your lips are red and swollen, and before you know, you are in your bedroom still between the two men who you are in love with for so many months. Sihtric stands behind you to untie your dress. His fingers move skillfully as he leans closer to peck your shoulder here and there while Finan starts to undress himself. His clothes fall on the ground at the same time as yours. His skin is hot, pulling you to his embrace. His fingers move up and down on your sides gently till he reaches the skin under your breasts. In the back of your mind, you hear Sihtric shuffling with his own clothes, and not long after the quiet noise, you feel him again behind you. The room is probably cold, but you feel nothing of it. Between the two men, your skin is warm, and your blood pumps your heart like it wants to jump out of your chest. You caress Finan's arms up to his shoulders and down to his hairy chest. There are scars on his sunburned skin from his past, and you lean closer to kiss them. You feel his heartbeat under your lips, and you can’t help but smile at it. Everything feels so real. The Dane grabs your hips to push himself against your backside. You can’t help yourself but moan at the feeling of his leaking length on your skin and the pressure on your breasts as Finan moves closer to you. His hardness is on your stomach, and you reach between you to grab him. He is hard and hot as you move your fingers up and down on him, and he moans in your neck. While you play with Finan, Sihtric reaches over to grab your breasts. Your nipples peak against his warm palm. “Harder,” you pant, pushing yourself more into his hands. “See?” Sihtric says to Finan. “She is not as fragile as you thought,” he chuckles mockingly, and the other just growls in answer. You giggle at the sound, but your voice turns into a squeal as Finan grabs you. He sits down at the head of your bed, pulling you between his spread legs. You back against his chest, and he squeezes your breast before he reaches between your legs to give space to Sihtric. The Dane is skinnier than his boyfriend but not less muscled. While Finan is thick everywhere, Sihtric is lean and long. He kneels on the bed to lean between your thighs till you feel his fanning breath on your pussy. “W-“ You want to ask what is he doing, but your words stuck in your throat when he licks you. His tongue burns your folds as he plays with them, and you moan when Finan pinches your nipples. “Gods, I never want to stop it,” Sihtric says hoarsely between two licks, and Finan's chest vibrates behind you from his laugh. “He is really good, no?” Finan asks you, biting your earlobe. “Yes,” you pant. Your fingers grab the man’s hair between your legs, and you lean more to Finan’s chest to give him more access to your pussy. The Irishman reaches down on you to open you up more to his boyfriend. Your whole body burns and shakes as your back arches from your orgasm. Sihtric waits and plays till you calm down and sits on his heels. Finan's hand doesn’t leave your body, and soon you feel his one and then two fingers in yourself. Sihtric reaches down to his groin, and his breath shudders as his fingers wrap around his cock. His muscles tense from the pleasure and his eyes become hooded, staring between your legs. Finan plays with you for a while until you are almost ready to cum again, but to your greatest displeasure, he pulls out of you before you can reach your high. He licks his fingers and hums, looking up at his boyfriend. “You are right,” he says, pecking your neck before moves out behind you to change position with Sihtric. The Dane hugs you close to himself, one of his hands on your breast, massaging it as he lays down more with you on the pillows. You can feel his hardness on your back, and Finan spreads your legs till he is above you and your legs are around his waist. “Are you still sure?” He asks you, panting. He caresses your cheek while his cock bob at your folds. “Please,” you mewl, reaching up to his neck to pull him down for a kiss. He pushes himself up, reaching down to position himself to your entrance. Your breath shutters, and you would swear you can see stars before your eyes as he fills you slowly and steadily. As you try to grab to the reality, you sense he moves above your shoulder till he reaches his boyfriend. You could cum even just hearing them kissing. You never want to wake up from this. Your heart races and you sure Sihtric can feel it as he still plays with your tits. Your neck is red from his slight beard, and at some point, you can’t tell the difference between his and your rapid breathing. You try to move your hips at Finan's pace, but he gets faster and faster till the only thing you can do is cling to his shoulder. If Sihtric wouldn’t hug you, you couldn’t stay at a place. “Where can I come?” Finan growls into your ears. “Wherever you want,” you pant. Your legs squeeze his waist, and your nails deepen into his skin as your head falls on Sihtric’s shoulder and cum with him at the same time. You can feel his seed inside you as he moves lower on your body. He pecks your chest up to your shoulder and face until he reaches your lips. “I love you,” he tells you, and you want to say the same, but the only voice that leaves your mouth is heavy breathing and mewling. You caress his cheek, and he understands you because he kisses into your palms and lays down next to you on the bed. Sihtric leans over to Finan to kiss him one more time before he straightens and moves out under you. “Can you do one more?” He says, and you are definitely not sure about it, but you nod. “Turn around love,” he says, helping you. Your face on a pillow and your bottom in the air waiting for Sihtric’s next move. Finan moves closer to you. His face lays before you, smiling and whispering sweet nothings. He tells you how beautiful you are and how much he loves every part of your body. The Dane grabs your hips, pulling you to his groin, and it’s enough for you to moan out his name. You need him. You are tired and sensitive, but you still need him inside you. “Please,” you beg him. “Of course,” he pants, still playing with his cock between your folds. You feel Finan’s semen leaking out of you, and soon enough, Sihtric length pushing into you without difficulty. You shut your eyes and squeeze the pillow under you as he starts to move back and forth. “Y/N,” he moans breathlessly. He is much more vocal than the Irishman, and every one of his moans and grunts and growls enough for you to reach higher and higher. You are sensitive and ready, and you are not surprised when you cum before him. Your legs are numb, and every part of you tingles. He has to steady you as he starts to move faster to finish himself. The inside of you almost burns as he cums, still moving. You can barely open your eyes as you feel hands on you moving you to your back. You feel beard and lips on your cheek and neck and something between your legs as they clean you up. You grunt from the pain. “I know, I'm sorry,” Sihtric whispers, dropping the rag he cleaned you off with. After he is done, he lays down next to your other side. Finan pulls you to his chest, and Sihtric hugs you from behind. You feel his warm breath on your nape and the Irishman’s gentle caresses on your arm. “Sleep, Y/N,” he says quietly, kissing your temple. The darkness consumes you between the two warm bodies.

When you wake up the next morning every part of your body is still tired and in pain but in a good way. You need some minute to notice the two men around you and their hugging arms on you. You don’t dare to move from the shock. It wasn’t a dream. They are here, and you are awake. “Good morning,” Sihtric whispers, moving closer to your still-naked form. “How did you sleep?” He asks you. His voice is low from sleep, but his smile is honest and happy as he stares at you. “Good,” you squeal. “Are you okay?” Finan asks from behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade as he moves to look over at your shoulder. “I-I thought it was a dream,” you confess. You really had sex with the two love of your life. “But you didn’t regret it, did you?” Sihtric asks you concerned. “No, no,” you answer immediately. “I love you, I was honest, but I really thought I was dreaming.” “So you dreamed about us before?” Finan asks you cheekily, resting his arm on yours. “Tell us more. Maybe we can make them true.” “Oh, shush,” you hide your face into your pillow. You aren’t awake for a few minutes, and your skin is already hot from shyness. “I will make breakfast,” Finan tells you, giving up on your entertaining torture. “And we can speak about our new relationship.” “Sounds good,” Sihtric nods, petting your back. “Are you really okay with it? We don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want.” “I want it,” you reply, looking up at his gentle expression. “I want both of you equally.”

and i repeat: anthropo-ceramics geto suguru is the type of toxic where he'd take your virginity, make a sculpture about the experience, then smash it on the ground as a metaphor

this ask is my entire life. this ask is my lifeblood. everyone please saddle up for the ride of a lifetime, otherwise known as 1500ish words of toxic geto featuring sukuna being a good fucking friend – please continue at ur own risk this absolutely contains geto being a pretentious toxic fucker and mentions of virginity/first time but yes i guarantee it does have a happy ending (link to the full college! cinematic universe here) 

let’s begin with the basics – why wouldn’t you fuck geto suguru? he has the type of beauty that lingers on the back of your eyelids even after you’ve long since departed from him; it’s the kind of fragrant, lasting beauty that you think sculptors muse over when they coax life from their marble. he’s smooth, like still water, and calming, like the sound of birds rustling and leaves swaying at dawn. he is helen: a beauty that nations would go to war over. 

and sure, he is pretentious, the kind of toxic pretentiousness that festers inside of all pretty boys who call themselves “leftists” but can’t be bothered to call their mothers or to care about their partners. but it’s the way he speaks, the way he looks at you with such fervor and attention in his eyes that you’re utterly willing to let him break your heart. 

and maybe it’s not often that someone looks at you the way geto does: it’s not often that someone looks at you like they want you, body and soul. and it feels nice to be cared about, to be flirted with, even if the figure doing the flirting condescends you in a way that is different, harsher, colder, than the way ryomen sukuna does. 

so geto suguru takes you on dates. after the avant-garde poetry reading, in which you feigned excitement as he recited a poem on global imperialism that you didn’t quite vibe with, he brings you to local bookstores with overpriced yuppie memoirs, farmers’ markets with organic fruit, human rights protests and philosophy meetings where greasy boys bitterly discuss the communist manifesto. he takes you to dinner, too, to vegan restaurants that you can’t help but rave about on yelp later and to bars where they serve your cocktails in mason jars. 

geto suguru, for all his faults, is incredibly lighthearted with you; he makes you feel beautiful and desirable and warm, even when he’s explaining anthropology to you with such intense vigor that you lose track of his meaning. after everything, you’d be lying if you said you regretted your time with him.

after awhile you let geto fuck you – and yes, he was your first time, which you were naturally quite nervous about. but you appreciated him because he waited for you; he never pressured you into behaviors you didn’t want; he never asked you for services you weren’t ready to provide. and so when you slept with him, after an invigorating open-mic night at the fair-trade coffee shop near campus, you felt ready for the intimacy. geto made you feel attractive, comfortable, safe. he praised you the whole night, gave you caresses that lit you up like fireworks, provided such a level of god-tier aftercare you still reminisce about it, even now. 

but that’s the thing about anthropology-ceramics major geto suguru: he’s quietly toxic. he’s a poison that sneaks up on you, infecting your bloodstream when you least expect it. 

you weren’t sure if geto wanted to pursue a relationship, either. you’d fucked, sure, and you went on dates, but he was always the type to avoid long-term commitments. rumors float around campus of the many partners he’s ghosted, of the relationships he exploited for his own “artistic musings.” they aren’t loud rumors, to be sure, but they hang around his aura like a strange, ghostly scent. 

geto is a pretentious little fuck. you’ve known it and agreed to enter his circle anyway. maybe you hoped, perhaps naively, that the rumors would simply not apply to you.

which was a stupid idea. three weeks after the experience, since which you have only spent one-on-one time with geto only a few times, mostly to talk about school, the art department hosts an art show. it’s a regular occurrence, where the art students show off their best works, grad students display their in-progress theses, and outsiders can browse the displays, drink wine, offer to give outstanding students jobs and internships. it’s truly a big fucking deal for the art department; many of the school’s the most successful artists received their first acclaim here. 

you’ve always enjoyed attending, even if the level of talent and expertise sometimes intimidates you, even if you know you’ll never be on this level. you know sukuna’s got a few paintings lined up to be on display – paintings you’ve modeled for, drawings you’ve watched him labor over for hours on end. you reckon that for all your begrudging time together, you might as well show your face in support. 

but what you didn’t count on was geto’s contribution.

at this art show, there are, every now and then, some interactive performances, speeches, explanations on certain works. so it happens that from the back of the auditorium you watch geto take the stage, wheeling a small, white sculpture behind him. from your perspective it could have been a flower – perhaps a lily, but you can’t be certain. 

(geto always did like sculpting precious, dainty flowers.)

he doesn’t call you by name, but he doesn’t have to. he talks at great length in that smooth voice of his about the construct of virginity, the purity culture plaguing the globe, the emotional sensitivity of having your first time. geto seguru tells an avid audience what you felt about fucking for the first time. he recreates the entire night for two hundred listeners: he recalls the foreplay, the insecurity, the orgasms. he doesn’t call you by name. he doesn’t have to. 

he may have asked for your consent the first time. but he certainly did not ask your permission to do this. 

you’re not sure if you should laugh or cry when geto dramatically smashes his own sculpture, citing the “destruction of virginity” and  the need “to demolish a social desire to classify one’s morality based upon their sexual activity” and “the symbolic popping of the cherry” among other phrases that are utter bullshit. you’re watching the fragments dance across the stage and you feel exploited. you feel used in a way that feels utterly worse than anything else geto could have done.

did he ever like you? or were you simply a muse for this moment? 

you’re about to ditch the art show and go wallow in self pity at your apartment when a familiar presence slides in beside you.

“that’s kinda fucked,” sukuna says, hands in his jacket pockets. he’s looking at you out of the corner of his eye. his tone tells you he’s joking. maybe he just doesn’t know. “no one gives a shit about virginity constructs anymore, idiot.” 

“yeah,” you respond, but the energy is gone. you feel strange, like you’re hovering outside of yourself. your head hurts: you’re angry. you decide you’d like to cry when you get home. “what a piece of shit.” it comes out strangled and lost. 

sukuna notices the dejection in your voice, the sag in your shoulders, the way you’re just barely able to hold yourself together. he may be arrogant, not ryomen sukuna is not mean.

a familiar arm around your shoulders, keeping your sanity together. “shit’s lame. let’s get the fuck out of here.” it’s a phrase that captures everything that remains unsaid between you: i’m going to beat the shit out of geto the next time i see him. that’s absolutely unbelievable.

you never explicitly told sukuna about your weird relationship with geto: you didn’t have to. it was always evident to the both of you. it was written in the way you’d look a little bit longer in geto’s direction, in the way you let yourself be strung along and become someone else. you’ve hung around sukuna long enough that you know his body language and that he knows yours. you’ve hung around sukuna enough that there are a lifetime of stories that never need to be told. 

you nod. “yeah.” thank you. i know. 

you’re both uncharacteristically silent when you exit the auditorium, when you collect sukuna’s belongings that are still lounging by his artwork as you prepare to leave. ryomen sukuna is famous for never shutting the fuck up. but as you button your coat, he’s silent, and it’s strange. comfortable.

“thank you,” you say with uncharacteristic softness as he throws a sketchbook back into his backpack and zips it shut. 

“why?”

“for asking my permission,” you say, gesturing to the gallery wall behind him, to the painting of you – “eros” – that you had posed for awhile back. even now, you find that it captures an essence you did not know you possessed. “he didn’t. ask, i mean.” 

ryomen sukuna has always craved your attention. and maybe he’s glad he’s got it back – but it feels sour. he doesn’t understand why he’s so fucking upset for you. he doesn’t understand why he wants so badly for you to be happy again. what he does understand is that he plans for retribution. 

“that’s fucked,” he settles on. “what bastard doesn’t ask for consent?”

you smile – and he does too, one that’s less feral and almost kind. and so you fall back into routine, already, some kind of weight lifting from your shoulders. ryomen sukuna may be a menace, but you can rely on him, trust him: that much you know. 

“you know,” sukuna says offhandedly as you exit the building and enter the parking lot. “i know where geto’s car is, i’m just saying. and i’d be lying if i said i didn’t have an extra precision knife in my backpack right now.”  

All credit goes to @2pretty, all the info on the dream girl guide concept & original post are here!

My dream girl is...

someone with a rewarding and stimulating career that fits her expertise and skills. She has successfully completed her degree. Her career is a big part of her life because it's closely connected to her own interests. She's embedded in a network of interesting, diverse professionals, who include her in cool projects and collabs.

someone who strives to conduct her life in a way that is consistent with her principles. She has found a way to be an activist in a very hands-on manner, doing her part. She follows current events through independent, in-depth media (rather than social media or daily news outlets).

someone who is financially independent. She knows exactly where her money is and has no debt. She is able to both save and donate money every month.

someone who structures her time in a way that takes into account both her responsibilities and her needs. She spends time with her close friends and family members and nurtures these relationships. She fulfills her obligations on time and with a minimal amount of stress. She knows how to gracefully say no to requests. She makes sure to have a lot of time to rest and recharge every week.

someone who looks elegant and a bit whimsical. She spends a minimal but consistent amount of time and effort on her appearance. Her environment is cosy, somewhere between a countryside manor and a cottage, with extra comfort and shiny trinkets.

someone who takes care of her health and her body. She incorporates gentle physical activity, great hydration and delicious, heavily plant-based cooking in her everyday life. She avoids anything that exhausts and hurts her body. She has a resistant, strong body that allows her to do what's important to her, whether it is helping friends move or carrying a child on her back.

someone who makes room for delightful and absolutely non-productive activities in her life. She enjoys opera, botany, food, museums, cultural history, travels across her country and Europe. She happily remains an amateur, with no attempt to become an expert or capitalise on her interests.

Plans for the year ahead...

October - Literature A month to get back into reading, especially classics and novels. So… set up a TBR, read every day, reread an old favourite of mine, limit the number of crime novels to 5 for the month, go to the library regularly, schedule a shopping session in a beloved bookstore November - Thesis A month to jumpstart the final version of my thesis and finish my degree. So… have a whole chapter written up by the end of the month, get in touch with my committee once it’s done, set up regular back-ups on my hard drive and online server, stock up on food and lofi playlists December - Care A month to take care of my body and make myself feel healthy, rested, and strong. So… breathe & stretch once a day, exercise once a day, go on a walk once a week, take regular bubble bath, put on moisturising lotion every day, do my skincare routine every morning and evening January - Looks A month to create my own style and streamline a routine to look my best everyday. So… put on makeup every morning, create a capsule closet based on what I own, identify what’s missing from my closet, pick a perfume that fits me, wear sparkly jewelry and bright lipstick and high heels at least once a week February - Play A month to take the time to play, especially video games, and set boundaries regarding my work life. So… review all the video games I own and list those I want to revisit, play at least twice a week, play in bed with good music and snacks when it’s dark and cold outside March - Career A month to prepare life after graduation, taking stock of my current professional life and setting myself up for success. So… update my CV, curate my online presence, create a database of all my professional contacts, reflect on my skills, experience and goals ikigai-style April - Plants A month to learn about flowers, plants and trees, their uses and symbolism, and roam all the parks and gardens I can find. So… learn about three new plants everyday, compile botanical informations in a notebook and review it regularly, walk in forests and parks, get bouquets from a florist once a week May - Mental Health A month to understand the way my mind works, take into account my specific needs, and set up accommodations. So… read up on relevant topics, list possible accommodations and implement them, identify what exhausts me or stresses me out, spend a couple days on my own June - Future A month to reflect on what I want my life to look like and identify how to get there. So… envision what I want my life to look like in 1, 5, 10 years and plan accordingly, recap where I’m at (esp. regarding administrative stuff and finances), set up my medical appointments for the year July - Food A month to enjoy delicious, healthy, fulfilling food & drinks. So… have breakfast everyday, go to the farmer’s market every week, list restaurants and dishes I want to try, take pictures of all the delicious food I get to try, set up a small liquor cabinet August - Culture A month to take advantage of the vibrant cultural & artistic life around me, leaning in what interests me and discovering new things. So… subscribe to newsletters about culture & the arts in my city, pick an event to attend every week, go to the theater, visit a new city, find new artists whose work I love September - Journal A month to document my everyday life and create memories. So… fill up my weekly calendar, post everyday about the highlights of the day, collect stuff, take pictures at least once a week, reread my old journals & notebooks *** Picking 12 traits wasn’t easy, but I keep some goals for future guides (re-learning German, playing the piano again, spending more time with loved ones) and purposefully exclude others (esp. anything that has to do with socialising more, losing weight, being more productive).

I'll post a detailed guide at the start of every month to keep myself motivated.

With that in mind, and a new month starting tomorrow, let’s go <3

Time to Go Sunflower

Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU

(Hello Sunflower Part 6)

Summary:  6 months after escaping Hydra you have an unexpected visitor.

Warnings: Fluff straight Fluff. A little bit of melancholy 

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Flashbacks are in italics. Bit of a filler chapter again, but needed to move forward with the story. Let me know if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!

Series Masterlist

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You had gotten to enjoy a normal life with Bucky for 6 months. Six months of going to work and coming home to spend time lounging around. You didn’t just lounge around, of course, neither of you is that kind of person. You work and worked out every day at a local gym, you had quickly become friends with the owner. He didn’t ask too many questions when you asked for a job and you taught women self-defense and helped keep the place running. Bucky taught a boxing class and helped you teach self-defense. He really enjoyed the ability to use all of his training to help others rather than hurt. The nightmares are the hardest thing for both of you. You both did this you weren’t proud of, you were both tortured, and now that everything was peaceful all of those memories were coming back to haunt you. You slowly fell into a routine on the nights when the nightmares kept you up. 

You woke up first, due to your nightmares or his, walking into the kitchen you would place the tea kettle on the stove. Bucky had surprisingly become fond of some chamomile tea when he couldn’t sleep, but only when you’re the one who makes it. You place your coffee mugs on the counter, you had gotten them as a joke when you first moved to Brooklyn. Smiling, you remembered the day you bought them. 

It was a chilly spring morning and you had just moved to New york. As you explored your neighborhood you noticed that there was a farmers market. You looked over at Bucky giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He rolled his eyes, before chuckling and saying,

 “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for us to look around for a minute. We could use some fresh fruit at the house.”

 Walking through the narrow paths you pointed out every funny or weird thing that you could find. Reveling in the small smiles that occasionally graced his face as you pointed out something especially silly. It was so different being able to do whatever you wanted, having time to just joke around. You couldn’t help being on high alert, even as you had fun walking through the market, and you could tell that Bucky was in the same boat. Your eyes scanning the area, taking notes of exits, and paying attention to everyone around you. Your eyes grazed over a particularly cluttered booth full of assorted kitchen items when you saw it. The perfect mug for your soulmate. You hurried over to the booth, Bucky following behind you confused at the sudden pit stop. You grabbed the mug and excitedly asked the man behind the table.

 “How Much?”

 “For a pretty lady like you, $5.”

 You quickly pushed the money into his waiting palm, turning back to Bucky to show him your treasure. It was a large white mug with the sentence “I never thought I would be a grumpy old man but here I am, killing it.”  He took one look at it and laughed out loud, a full belly laugh that had you grinning like an idiot. You had never heard him laugh like that before and it quickly became your favorite sound. He searched the rest of the market, looking for the perfect mug for you as well. You were walking past the last booth when he saw it. Dark blue with a yellow sunflower beside the words “I run off of coffee, chaos and cuss words.” It was his turn to rush over, purchasing the cup before you even caught up. Looking up at him with curiosity when you reached his side. He was grinning like a schoolboy when he showed you what he had found. 

Bucky’s arms sliding around your shoulder brought you out of your memories. You leaned back into his chest, pouring the water over the tea bags. You spun around and wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning your face against his chest. You always loved how warm he was, you didn’t normally get cold, thank you serum, but you still loved snuggling close to him whenever you got the chance. You both froze when you heard the knocking at the door, grabbing the gun you kept in the drawer you and Bucky shuffled towards the door, remaining as quiet as possible. You couldn’t help but shake your head at the Deja-vu of seeing Steve standing outside your door looking just a little bit lost. You looked over at Bucky, lowering your gun and tilting your head to let him know it was ok. Cracking open the door you scanned the halfway, before ushering him in. You heard Bucky’s gasp when he saw who it was. Locking the door you turned to face your guest. 

“Hey there Cap, what can we do for you at, oh 3 in the morning,” you asked glancing at the clock on the stove.

 “They are getting ready to start the trials for the information that Shield “leaked”.”

You caught Bucky’s eyes and knew that it was the end of your time out of the world of Shield and Hydra. There was sadness and resignation in his eyes but also determination.

 “So what do we need to do?” He asked. 

“The best thing would be for you to come live in the Avenger’s tower. We will give you time to get accustomed to it before we look into putting you on missions. The council will look at you more favorably if you are actively trying to make up for your past.” He stated, speaking as if he were ordering a cup of coffee. 

You tensed at that, “Does the council understand that we had absolutely no choice in our past? Maybe we could take them to a hydra base and show them what it’s like to have your brain emptied and someone else’s will forced on you.” you spat.

 “I know, Y/N trust me, I think it’s stupid for them to have these trials at all. You and Bucky have been through enough as it is but there is nothing we can do, not if you want to live a life where you aren’t constantly on the run.” He assured, his voice softening at you obvious distress.

You collapsed into yourself at the kindness in his voice.

 “I’m sorry Steve, I shouldn’t take my anger out on you. When do we leave?” 

“It would be best if we leave now. We will get all of your stuff to the tower as quickly as we can, but we need you to come back with me. We already have rooms set up for you and we want you to leave at night, fewer eyes on you.”

 You closed your eyes and dropped onto the arm of the couch at his words. You knew this was coming but you thought you would have a bit of a warning so that you could prepare. Yeah, the apartment you were in wasn’t great, but it was home and it was the first place you had truly felt safe and happy. Bucky placed his hand on your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze. You lifted your head and eyed Steve, 

“Fine, but give us thirty minutes to pack the essentials.” You went to your room, not waiting for his answer. Bucky walked in shortly after, stopping your angry packing and pulling you into a tight hug.

“It’s going to be ok my little sunflower. I know we both wanted more time to ourselves before being dragged into this, but we will make it work, and we won’t do anything that we disagree with. Our decisions will be ours and our alone. Ok?” you relaxed into the hug and nodded. He pulled you back and gave you a quick kiss and started helping you throw all the things you needed, including the few pictures that you had into your duffle bags. You walked into the kitchen and grabbed your coffee cups, pouring out the now cold tea before packing them as well. If Steve thought it was strange he had the courtesy not to say anything. You had changed out of your pajamas as you packed, so as soon as you packed the mugs you were ready to go. 

Shrugging your duffle bag onto your shoulder, you took one last look around your apartment. You took it in, seeing a movie of memories flash before your eyes. You pulled your eyes forward before steeling yourself, grabbing Bucky’s hand and nodding to Steve. Stepping out of your home for the past 6 months you faced an unknown future. But with Bucky by your side, and Steve at your back you knew that you would be able to face anything.