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#oh to be in their little toxic friendship circle
rei-is-hiding · 2 years
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fire nation squad 🔥
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captainmera · 6 months
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ok ,entonces tengo un OBVIAMENTE SHIP por Theo y Oliver , así que bombardeare con preguntas románticas !
Who would be more romantic? Who is the one who cares more about the other? Who would take care of who in a cold (why is that super romantic? I don't know), who would blush more at the other's comments? Who has more protective attitude? .....and I'll stop for now
Jag kan inte spanska! xD Ser du hur skumt det här är? Hahahaha!
And thank you for this ask! :'D <3
Both of them care for the other just as much. :) They just support one another where the other needs it. They don't have the same needs!
Oliver is the most blushy though. He's a rather shy person (sober, anyway. Drunk Oliver is very confident).
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They are both protective. Theodore is just..... Well, he's a witch:
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ibwr world building lore stuff:
Witches are, in the world of IBWR, a little unhinged. People fear them, they're seen as a "necessary evil" by the church and society in general. People seek them out for various reasons and aid. Often taboo things. In public opinion, witches must be a little... evil.. To be able to do certain things.
It leaves witches socially ostracised at the same time socially desired and renowned. It's fickle to navigate. They're basically the dark fairy god mother left uninvited to the party, but if they show up anyway nobody's gonna throw them out. Their association is a flex to pull, but also at the same time an association you want at arms length.
So real and genuine friendships are hard to come by for them.
This resulted in witches, generally, sticking to themselves and their families. The public opinion is that witches don't have have friends, and if they do those people will soon live to regret it. People think witches' friends are only for business or pleasure. If you're not business then you're pleasure, and if you served your purposes you're ditched without remorse. <- At least that's what people think. It's not baseless, but also not totally true.
Witches has built up, because of this, this mask of confidence that they lean into - that they're untrustworthy and mischievous, lustful and morally dubious. It's just a terrible circle, really. "IF YOU HATE ME, FINE, THEN I WILL BE ALL OF THAT WITH PRIDE!!! FEAR ME!!" like, okay, you just want friends don't you.
Because people seldom like them, at least genuinely, they become very loyal friends to those that do. Maybe a little scarily loyal. You like me? Like for real? Okay then I will help you get away with murder. Oh, that's too much? I mean, what do you mean you don't want anything?? I can give you everything. Name it and it's yours.
Witch culture revolves a lot around deals and contracts, so when they meet people (like Oliver) who asks for nothing in return they try to make up for it, it makes them a little nervous to receive something without having to return a favour. Which makes them a little too inclined to jump to their loved ones defence - out of both love and duty.
And, lucky for Theodore, Oliver is good at declining that behaviour. Which teaches Theodore he's actually loved. And that not everything is transactional. That also works great for Oliver, who has always felt like he owed the world something, so he ensures nobody feels they owe him. It leaves them both with an established genuinely: They love because it's simply that. Love. No keeping scores, no malicious or selfish intent.. Just... As close to unconditional as you can get.
Theodore still needs to work on jumping into HAHA LET ME END YOUR ENEMIES though. It's how witches show love. it's a bit toxic but that's part of his arc, he's learning who he is outside of his family and the way he was raised.
He's just as much an Ashdown witch as any of his family is. Generational trauma and family trait is not something you escape just because you can see it for what it is. Sometimes it takes a different voice in you. But it's there. You may think your family's sense of loyalty is toxic but yours isn't. We are all a little blind and needs help seeing ourselves sometimes.
Oliver isn't without his toxic traits too. He's really blind to his worth and chooses to be okay with bad things happening to him because he thinks he deserves it - He was raised to believe that he has to be quiet and put aside, that his needs are secondary and that if he wants to be loved he must allow others to use him.
His logic doesn't work, and Theodore - who's blunt and has an honest relationship with Oliver, can be frank and poke him about it "if that's true for you, then it must be true for me. If bad things happen to me, that must mean I deserve it too. Rules cannot apply to one person alone. It doesn't work like that. You can't say I deserve to be heard and loved unconditionally, and then not apply it to yourself. practice what you preach." And Oliver needs to be reminded of that sometimes. Theodore is a good reality check for Oliver.
Theodore lifts Oliver off the ground when his depression makes him lay face down in dirt. And Oliver holds Theodore back from acting on his impulsive negative emotions.
But they also encourage the other on their positive traits.
Oliver cheers Theodore on with his goals and dreams, gives him room to be authentic to the parts of himself he's repressed. He encourages him in areas where Theodore is sensitive or insecure. He validates him. And Theodore gives Oliver the space to feel safe and unjudged. He can be wholly himself and not feel like he's a burden for needing something. Oliver can speak freely and Theodore enjoys his thoughts on things, he requests his opinion and values his insights (which is good for Oliver's self-esteem).
They're both patient with one another, and put effort and time into trying to understand what the other is going through and needs.
They're friends as much as lovers.
The double taptap shoulder thing I used in my fanfic is.. it's actually.. from them. <XDDDD Oliver do that. I am regretting it a smidge that I used it for huntlow now XDDDD
OH WELL.
ANYWAY.
THAT WAS ME BLABBING ON ABOUT MY BOYS FOR TOO LONG.,
THANKS FOR READING IF YOU DID ASDFGHJKL
I wish I was further in my story so I can like.... SHOW ALL OF THIS ALREADY *SOBS* NOT JUST TALK ABOUT IT. *CRIES*
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inkblot-inc · 2 months
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RCD: NYFW, FOMO
Summary: Knowing the sour history between Skitch and Natasha, we'll just have to see how they decide to interact with each other going forward, if at all; Fear Of Missing Out AKA Forget Our Missed Opportunities
Pairing: Jeweler!Wanda Maximoff x Metalworker!Reader
[Everything Else From the RCD Universe] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] this is part 4
Warning(s): Oh there's definitely language in this one, I remember. There's also mention of past toxic relationships/friendships, but that's about it
Note(s): Here we are at the last part of The Fashion Week Incident, so let's cap it off baby, LET'S GO!
Word Count: a bit under 1k
ALSO: *squints* I give NO ONE permission to repost or translate my work. Make your own shit
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Again, Wanda and Natasha weren't the bestest of friends before that night. They were friendly acquaintances within the same circle of the fashion industry, so when Skitch tells Wanda about their history with Nat, she's rightfully standoffish toward the fashion designer on the last day of fashion week.
Skitch is kind of just over it and wants to enjoy the rest of fashion week with Wanda and just ignore that Natasha is there. They haven't let Natasha affect their life for so long that they just want to move on with everything.
Natasha, however, since seeing Skitch after all these years is definitely more remorseful and wants to bridge the gap between them and apologize for how she treated Skitch and how they cut ties so abruptly.
The actual runway presentation on the last day goes off without a hitch. After the show, Wanda and Skitch are both mingling again as per usual when Natasha eventually comes up to Skitch and asks to talk to them privately. Skitch brings Wanda along because anything that Natasha has to say can be said in front of Wanda as well seeing as Wanda knows about their past. The three of them do go outside of the venue for privacy, though.
Natasha releases a shaky breath before starting. "I was hoping that we can start fresh, and just put what happened behind us. I know things got ugly, and I'm not proud of how I dealt with things and how much of a bitch I was to you. I wish I reached out to you sooner,"
Wanda could feel her own eye twitch a little bit, "I'm ashamed of the person I was and how I treated you... if I could go back in time-"
That was where you were done just listening, "But you can't go back in time, Natasha- Fuck, NO part of that was an apology! That's what I want, Natasha. An apology. I can't help but think that that is outside of your reach to give me, seeing as I was never just ENOUGH! I was somehow not doing enough as a kid with 'nothing to offer', or I was overbearing enough to let me get arrested for protecting you!" At some point you stopped seeing the older woman dressed in finer fabrics and instead saw the ambitious college sophomore who never wore any outfit without one of your borrowed leather jackets. "Maybe if I'm MAD ENOUGH I'll be worthy of an earnest 'sorry' from you! I just!-...All I wanted was to finally be enough..."
Natasha's eyes continued to water as tears flowed down her cheeks. Her hand helplessly tried to reach out to you, her voice weak and strangled by overflowing emotion. "You were always enough, Y/n. I- fuck... I'm so sorry that I ever treated you like you were beneath me, that you were a nuisance, that I told you that you were 'wasting your time' while with working for Logan. Hell! I'm sorry that I resented you for putting your future on hold for my benefit! I'm sorry for acting like I was better than anyone and taking you and Logan and Annie and Kurt for granted... but you are enough, Y/n. You always have been. And I'm sorry that I made you feel any less than."
Your face is still stoic, but you can't help but let a few tears of your own fall at Natasha's words. "I know that now, but I didn't need you to tell me that anymore." You tightened your grip on yours and Wanda's clasped hands. "I've had the better half a decade to think and make my piece with your shit, Nat... And in time, I think-... I think I could forgive you. But I can't speak on behalf of the others at home you hurt, like Annie and Kurt, and I damn sure can't speak for my dad. You'll have to talk to them yourself to try to make amends... but consider this the olive branch. Don't snap it."
Wanda, who just found out about Skitch and Natasha's past together the night before, however, is a lot more hesitant to be as cordial with Natasha. She was there to hold Skitch while they cried recalling just how fucked their dynamic used to be, how small they felt after they got bailed out of jail. It was rare for Wanda to see Skitch's rays of sunshine so dim, but she could also feel that tiny shred of hope Skitch had in Natasha to show how much she's changed. Not reverting back to the way things were when they were young and the best of friends. But to have a new friendship built on mutual respect.
Wanda had yet to move as she simply stared at Natasha. "What I can't wrap my head around, is that Y/n went to jail for you, and you just let them ride that out?"
Natasha turned to Wanda, briefly wiping her face, "I couldn't even try to understand my own thought process with what happened that night and leading up to it. There was something about not wanting feeling 'smothered' by the affection of the people that cared about me and craving to be in the 'in' crowd. Wanting the space to make my own choices even though I was the most homesick I had ever been at that time. And pride, there was a lot of pride... too much of it where it wasn't justified, seeing as I cut off the people I wanted to be proud of me the most. I've never forgiven myself for how self-centered I was, nor will I try to justify it. I just hope that I'll be given the opportunity to prove myself to be a real friend to Y/n this time."
Wanda couldn't help but hope for the same, for the both of their sakes, but she would be right beside Skitch to make sure they weren't hurt again.
'I'm sure they are proud of you.'
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Thank you so much for the long answer about Armando and Marcela's relationship! It's one of the things I noticed when I was rewatching, they weren't in love.
I also wanted to comment on Armando and Mario's dynamic because I notice that even on the first episodes nobody is totally on Armando's side? In the "you're the woman I need" incident Mario would rather spend time with Patricia than do the work Armando wanted him to do, Betty becomes exactly what Armando needs even so early in the show.
I think this shows how even if he was privileged Armando never has anyone on his side 100%, almost all his inner circle is with him in exchange for something? I was wondering what do you think about these two and if you think that Mario should come back as Armando's best friend in the new season like in Ecomoda.
(personally getting rid of mario at the end the og show was great to me, it really showed that Armando has truly changed)
You're welcome! I love getting questions jaja🥰
Oh, definitely. Mario is guided mainly by his dick throughout the novela lmao. Even in the worst of moments he still thought of women and sex (like when he tells Armando that they should watch the reinado because of the beautiful women lmao). His main priority is always himself and his pleasure and his gain, even if that means basically breaking Armando, his best friend, in pieces. Just look at how much he loves to tease and joke about Betty's appearence in front of Armando, even when he knows Armando is deeply in love and HATES those jokes. Or how he compares him to Nicolás and laughs at him when Betty is rejecting him furing the revenge arc, even though he's seeing Armando slowly going insane. Look how he laughs at his insecurities!
You can definitely tell Mario is there for the benefit and the fun of it. Maybe it's the status that being Armando's best friend gives him (I'm willing to bet that's why Mario is vice president, after all. We all know nepotism runs through Ecomoda's blood), or maybe it's truly that he enjoyed that Armando was as heartless as he was at first, just pursuing fun and pleasure and free of real compromise before everything went downhill.
In the same manner, Mario HAD to continue to cling to Armando's presidency and friendship because, had Armando lost the presidency before they wreaked Ecomoda and Daniel had actually become president, Mario would have lost his position simply for being on Armando's 'side.' Just like how Olarte lost his own position for being on Daniel's (we all know Armando wanted to get rid of him before the whole computer damage thing happened).
So yeah, Armando has no one unconditionally until Betty arrives! Armando is privileged in a lot of ways (rich and handsome, just for starters), but he's also very lonely and emotionally unstable because he's always trying to prove himself. He fails at it a lot because even though he CAN be good (at his job, as a son, as friend, as a partner) he tends to go about it very wrong lmao
Overall they're pretty toxic. Armando has these rage moments when he physically and verbally threatens Calderón (grabbing hin by the collar, telling him he wants to punch him, etc), but Calderón also never misses an opportunjty whenever Armando is down to make fun of him (saying Nicolás is pleasuring Betty more than he does, making fun of Betty's appearence, telling him it's disgusting and shameful to love her, etc). Mario pretty much tries his damn hardest to bring Armando back to his bad habits during ysblf and ecomoda (for what little ive seen of it lmao), like trying to convince him to cheat on his partners (Marcela and then Betty)
I'm not really a fan of the whole thing coming back lmao and Mario coming back to be Armando's bestie feels like such a big regression for Armando's growth. It almost feels like he learned nothing, especially if Armando openly accepts the friendship like nothing. But I've heard Mario is now going to be a villain, which equally excites me and disappoints me lmao this dude was always messed in the head, but "villain" is a word too strong and I fear it will make a morraly very dark grey into a full on psycho lmao
I'm sorry for the lonnnnnnng answer jajaja Ig I had a lot of things to say😀
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artaxlivs · 5 months
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Nobody's Baby (A Dirty Dancing AU)
Chapter: 1/8 (40k) Posting schedule: One chapter a day, two on the last day Rated: E Tags: light BDSM, Kink negotiation, safe, sane & consensual, hand wavey dance moves, 80s movie campiness, classism, best friends Chrissy & Eddie, Best friends Steve & Robin, Dirty Dancing without all the toxicity TW: for discussion about the aftermath of an illegal abortion surgery's affects on a woman's body (not in this chapter) Follow along on Ao3 Artist Collaborator: @lexplexdraws Event: Steddie BigBang 2023 - @steddiebang
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Pulling up to the resort feels like walking the plank for Steve. A summer holiday of the worst kind. Forced games, stuffy rooms filled with people just like his parents. People wearing the mask of the social elite. Fake people with no intention of leaving the world a better place. That wasn’t for him. It used to be. Oh, how it used to be. King Steve they’d called him at school. His followers, his haters, his friends. And he’d reveled in it. In the worship, the power, the glory of being someone everyone wanted to be even while they hated him. 
But then he’d fallen for Nancy Wheeler. And she’d come with a whole bushel of brats. Steve had discovered something he loved more than adoration, he loved being someone the kids could count on. Even after he and Nancy had broken up, the kids had still come to him for help, for protection, for friendship. There was something incredible about that. 
So when the time had come to decide what to do with his life, Steve decided to become a school counselor. He wanted to help people. His parents were rich, his mom helped people with her charities. Sure, she did it for the stature, it was like a competition among the old money housewives - who could earn the most money for the poorest people with the most extravagant dinner or event. He could have done that, too. But he didn’t want to spend $20,000 on a charity event that raised $15,000. That didn’t add up. He wanted to help in real ways that had nothing to do with social status. 
But he’d promised his dad that he’d do this one last family trip before moving to his apartment near the school he was starting his job at in the fall. One last parade around the room for the youngest Harrington. His sister Carol loved to be paraded around so he wasn’t sure why his dad even cared. Carol lived for being shown off like a prized heifer at a fair. Salivated for it. 
They’d been close when Carol was in school. Using their reign to crush people like bugs. But since Steve had given it all up, Carol seemed a little disgusted by him. It didn’t help that people only fawned over Carol because of their parents and their money. She was really quite ordinary in every other way. No matter how much she tried to stand out in a crowd, she just didn’t. And she hated that Steve did. It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t even want that. He hated the attention these days. 
It probably didn’t help that Carol was always just Carol . But Steve was Baby . It started when they were toddlers. She was the oldest and he was Baby Harrington. And he was such a pretty baby. And then a pretty boy. And by that time, the name had stuck. Baby. 
He couldn’t wait to not hear anyone call him that anymore. 
The Cadillac glides into the concierge loop. Before his dad even slides it into park, there are already several bellboys circling the car to open doors and stand near the trunk for luggage retrieval. Moving quickly, Steve pushes open his own door before a bellboy - oh, girl actually - can get there, he smiles in apology when she looks annoyed.
“Richard!” A voice booms out. The owner of the voice and apparently the resort as well, is not a big man. Not in height at least. He’s round and ruddy cheeked, dressed in what can only be a linen suit. He had to have been waiting for them to arrive, there’s no way he greets all of his guests this way. Especially not with his meek looking wife at his elbow. 
The bellboy - bellgirl? - followed Steve around the car and is standing at the man’s other elbow expectantly. The man ignores her though, and she catches Steve’s eye with a raised eyebrow. 
“Max Hagan,” his dad actually smiles, clasping hands in a familiar way. “Susan,” he kisses the woman’s cheek and she titters like she can’t believe Dr. Harrington’s charm. “You remember my wife, Amelia,” his mom allows Mr. Hagan to kiss her cheek and then she gives Susan a light hug. “And these are our children,” Like either of them are children anymore. They’re twenty-four and twenty-two now. “This is Carol, she’s been so involved in Amelia’s charity work this year,” Carol gives them a little finger wave, fake smile plastered on just right, “And this is our youngest–” don’t say it “-Baby. He’s just graduated college and is headed off to locations unknown to help the poor.”
The bellgirl looks like she can’t decide whether to sneer or laugh.
Smiling tightly, Steve shakes both of their hands, “It’s Steve, please. And it’s Chicago and they’re less fortunate schoolchildren, Dad. It’s not like their families chose to be poor. There’s enough resources for everyone if we just share the wealth.”
The girl tilts her head, considering him.
Mr. Hagan grins, “Ohhhh a social warrior! We feel the same, we employ a lot of the areas less fortunate, even provide housing so they can stay here for the summer.” The bellgirl rolls her eyes and clears her throat, “Oh, yes, Robin. There you are.” Like she hasn’t been standing there the entire time. “Your keys, Richard?” His dad hands them to Robin and she nods, heading off to park his car for their stay probably.
Steve turns to watch her go and she winks at him. He barely bites back a laugh. The audacity. He’ll have to find a way to talk to her without the rest of these people around. 
Clapping his hands, Mr. Hagan waves them all toward the big sprawling Connecticut mansion behind him, “Come, come, let me show you the main houses before the staff takes you out to your cabana.”
The central house is the kind of vacation opulence Steve’s come to expect from his parent’s rich friends. Several sitting rooms show off spindly antique furniture and bookcases filled with books. There are tall windows open to the breeze and almost no one inside. This is clearly the Hagan’s house and only those invited are allowed in the sitting rooms.
To prove that theory correct, a guy about his and Carol’s age jogs down the stairs in the main hall and strides right over to them. He gives Carol an appraising look but his gaze lingers much longer on Steve. “Uncle Max, who are our guests?”
“Oh Tommy, perfect timing! These are the Harringtons. This is Richard and his wife Amelia.” Tommy shakes both of their hands, calling them sir and ma’am then he turns to Carol, kisses her hand as she giggles and pretends to be shy - she’s not.
“That’s their oldest, Carol and this is–” don’t say it, “Baby, their youngest. He’s headed off to save the world after his stay with us.” It’s so patronizing that Steve would bristle if he thought it would make any difference. It won’t. 
Tommy takes Steve’s hand in his own clammy one, leering where no one else can see his expression and gives Steve’s hand a firm squeeze. Gross.
Pulling his hand back and stuffing it into the back pocket of his jeans, Steve corrects with, “I’d rather be called Steve, please.”
“Of course.” Tommy agrees but it’s obvious he has no intention of doing so.
In the second house, a short walk from the first, there’s a ballroom currently filled with preset tables with cloth napkins and several types of wine glasses. There’s a neat row of forks to the right of the preset gold rimmed plates. Despite the summer heat, all of the employees setting the tables are wearing a smart white tuxedo jacket and white gloves. Like they shouldn’t dare to touch the rich with their bare hands. 
Steve wants to gag.
There must be a large kitchen attached but Max Hagan doesn’t show them that. Before they leave, a busboy drops a water glass, the shatter is loud enough to catch all of their attention. He looks at Mr. Hagan in horror. Mr. Hagan smiles tightly, apologizes to them and nods to Tommy who excuses himself from the group with a cruel smile and heads over to the employee. Probably threatening to take the cost of the glass out of the kid’s check. What an asshole.
Steve’s already over it.
They don’t walk out to the other buildings, Mr. Hagan’s cheeks are already red and he’s puffing. He clearly doesn’t walk his grounds very often. Instead, he points to a large covered area, telling them that they do activities like arts & crafts, dancing and card games there and at another building nearby. When he shows them the pools, Steve almost asks why they don’t swim in the lake that’s right there but Tommy has rejoined them and he really doesn’t want to engage in conversation if he can avoid it.
On their way back around, Steve catches sight of what must be the trail to the employee housing hidden away, tucked into a far corner and makes a plan to go check it out as soon as he can escape. See if the Hagan’s are actually taking care of their employees.
Pretty soon, they’re whisked away on golf carts to their private cabana which is more like an entire cabin at the water’s edge. Their luggage is already in their rooms and unpacked, which he hates. Making someone else unpack your underwear is such a power move and he’s never been a fan. He makes a mental note to make his bed every morning and keep his side of the room he’s sharing with Carol as clean as possible.
*
Dinner is, of course, formal and boring. They’re sharing a table with the Hagans. Tommy tells them all about his time at Yale where he’d majored in business management like his dad and uncle. Took his time so he hadn’t graduated until this year at twenty-four. He’d really loved spending time bonding with his fraternity brothers and “enjoying college life.” Which Steve takes to mean partying and convincing drunk freshmen to have sex with him like a creep. He’s spending this summer helping his uncle out to gain experience with managing people and, besides, “it’ll look great on his resume for internships.”
Steve barely contains his many eye rolls before he finally tunes it out.
At one point, Steve tunes back in to find their waiter talking to his dad about good family values and how he’s working at the resort this summer to pay his own expenses during college. He doesn’t want to be a drain on his family and is on a scholarship for basketball - also to Yale, he and Tommy are frat brothers apparently - but that he’s trying to get into law school next year. Steve’s dad introduces the guy - Jason - to both Carol and Steve, claps him on the back like he’s proud of this stranger and then tells the kid to talk to some professor who’s an old frat buddy of his. They’ll “take care of him.”
The guy practically creams his pants to grovel at his dad’s feet. It’s so disgusting, Steve can’t even watch as the new guy realizes Steve’s not interested and begins to lay on the charm with Carol who’s lapping it up as per usual.
He spends the rest of dinner watching the waitstaff and hoping to see Robin again. He does, eventually. She’s clearing a table when he and his family are on their way out. Just as they reach her table, she fumbles a glass and Steve grabs it in midair. 
“Ohmygodthankyou.” She starts to babble, rushing the words out so quickly it feels like there aren’t even individual words. “I’m such a klutz. That’s why I’m not a waiter, I drop things too often. Usually I don’t do this either but we’re short staffed tonight. You didn’t need to know all of this, anyway, thank you.” She plucks the glass from his outstretched hand and puts it in the bin.
“It’s no problem. Glad I was here at the right time.” Steve smiles, wishing he could hang out with her but knowing she’s probably got better things to do with her little spare time than hang out with some rich kid. He nods instead, following his parents out.
*
“Did you need the blue paint, Mrs. Schumacher?” The little blond with the high ponytail asks a little loudly, her eyes sparkle when she looks at Steve because Mrs. Schumacher was originally painting a sunrise that has somehow become an underwater scene. They’ve both been sharing looks since the old woman started adding fish to her skyline.
“No, I don’t need any help.” She says crankily, slapping paint on her canvas hard enough to splatter it onto the table cloth. Luckily it’s all water colors so it’ll come out. Steve stifles a laugh. 
Robin is there, too. She seems to be less of an artist and more of a wrangler though. She’s the one who brought the Schumachers over to begin with. Putting the wife in front of Steve and the husband next to him. At first he thought she was punishing him for something but then the little blond Chrissy took up the spot next to Mrs. S and Robin took up the spot on the other side of the mister and he realized she’d done it so he was close enough to talk to.
“So Steve,” Chrissy starts, inconspicuously sliding the blue paint toward Mrs. S, “what kind of things do you do for fun?”
Ducking his head to hide his absolute joy that Robin had obviously heard his hatred of the name Baby and introduced him as Steve to Chrissy, Steve shrugs, “For fun? Not much, honestly. I gave up the social butterfly life and I spend a lot of my spare time babysitting a bunch of kids too old to need a babysitter anymore.”
“Awww, that sounds nice!” She says warmly, handing Mrs. S. a clean canvas and removing the ocean of paint she’d been working on.
Next to him, Mr. S. has fallen asleep in his chair. Robin leans around him and hands Steve a piece of paper with a few penciled lines. It looks like a tally board. At the top it says “You suck/You Rule” and there is one tally in the “You Suck” spot and three in the “You Rule.”
He laughs loud enough that Mr. S. flinches but doesn’t wake up. “What’s the You Suck tally for?”
“Being a rich kid, obviously.” Robin grins.
“I can’t really help that.” He says, “And the others?”
“You want to help people, you helped me last night and you like kids.” Robin ticks them off on her fingers, “But I really feel like that’s probably as good as you’re gonna get so now I’m looking for more evidence of you sucking.”
“Robin” Chrissy chastises her, reaching across to playfully slap Robin’s hand where she’s flapping it around. 
Steve laughs though, it’s the first time he’s enjoyed himself at this place so he’s all in.
After a little while, Chrissy puts a record on the player and tells them it’s time for dance lessons if anyone’s interested. Steve’s not necessarily a bad dancer, but he’s not a great dancer either. Dancing requires a level of letting yourself go that Steve just hasn’t achieved yet. Chrissy is a wonderful dancer, though. She’s leading Mr. Schumacher around, which is really adorable.
“She’s gorgeous isn’t she?” Robin says when she flops down in the chair next to him.
“Yes. And kind. Not my type, though, if you’re trying to set me up.” Steve looks at Robin who’s steadfastly not looking at him.
“Don’t look at me Harrington, I’m not your type either. Well - you’re not mine at least.” Robin scoffs, crossing her arms.
“You sure? Have you seen how great my hair looks?” He says, scandalized, “And this face? This face is everyone’s type.” 
She groans, knows he’s giving her shit, shoves his shoulder away, “I barely know you and I already think you’re the worst.”
Steve cackles.
*
Dinner is another stuffy affair of everyone patting themselves on the back for being rich and self important. But tonight it leads into music and dancing. Right away, Tommy asks Steve to dance and Steve just knows his parents are going to give him that look if he doesn’t so he says yes. It’s stiff and awkward and Tommy’s trying to lead even though he’s a good three inches shorter than Steve.
Chrissy’s Tinkerbell sounding laugh catches his attention and Steve looks toward the middle of the dance floor to see her in a gorgeous pink dress with layers and layers of some kind of gauzy material. Her dance partner is in a black tuxedo, hair pulled into a neat bun at the back of his head. 
When he dips Chrissy back, her head looks like it might touch the backs of her knees and then he yanks her up, spinning her out and back in so fast she looks like she’s a yo-yo. Her dress swirls around her thighs and she grins up at him. She’s a tiny thing but in her heels, she’s shoulder height to him. They swish and spin, looking gorgeous together. The crowd gives them ample room. Steve stops moving to watch them with a soft smile and Tommy stiffens where he’s trying to get Steve’s attention.
“They know better!” Tommy growls, looking like he’s going over to stop the pair from their dance. 
Steve stops him with a touch to his forearm, squeezing gently to placate Tommy, “No, let them keep going. Look how much everyone loves watching them.” He moves back into Tommy’s arms, a little closer this time even though it makes his skin crawl.
Smiling, Tommy says, “Okay, just for this one dance though.”
After the dance, Chrissy and her partner split up without Tommy interfering and find guests to bring out to dance with them instead. Steve dances again with Tommy and then bows out to sit back down at their table, claiming a headache.
It’s a close call, getting away from Tommy’s demands and Carol’s disdain after a sufficient amount of time has passed but Steve really wants to walk the grounds alone so he sneaks away. He’s been wandering long enough that the sun is completely down when he comes to the bridge over the little creek that separates the main resort from the employee cabins and he spots Robin. She’s carrying three huge watermelons and she’s the most awkward looking thing he’s ever known so she’s about five seconds away from dropping them.
Rushing over, he catches the middle one just before it drops.
“Alright, fine, that’s another tally in the You Rule column.” She says testily. He grins. “Don’t get cocky though. Come on.”
He follows, thinks about taking a second watermelon but he’s afraid she won’t be able to balance with just one. She really is just so awkward. 
As they approach the building set far into the corner, Steve can hear bass thumping, he can hear laughter and raucous shouts and occasionally he passes couples making out or smoking cigarettes together. Inside is even louder. It’s dingy and dim, the music is loose and carefree and instead of a nice cha cha or a waltz like he’d heard earlier, everyone is grinding and rubbing against each other.
It’s so… dirty but Steve can’t look away. He knows his eyes are like saucers, taking in everyone in their short skirts and tight pants, their bare arms and low cuts. Steve feels very out of place in his pressed khakis and his cardigan. Thank god he’d refused to wear the tie his father had waved at him.
Robin shouts over her shoulder, “Come on, this way.”
But Steve can’t. He’s frozen in place. There in the middle of the dancers is Chrissy in a low cut tank top that hugs her chest and stops just short of the waistline of a skirt barely long enough to cover her butt as she drapes her knee around the hip of her partner.
And her partner. Wow. He’s not like he was inside with the guests at all.
He can’t be much taller than Steve but he’s got so much presence. His hair is down now, wild and past his shoulders. His shoulders are bare in the black tank top he’s sporting. It’s low cut on both sides and the front. Steve sees a flash of his nipple as he spins Chrissy. They grind their hips together and Steve’s eyes are drawn down to the man’s insanely tight pants. Black with ripped knees. He makes eye contact with Steve, sneers, spins Chrissy and brings her back flush against his chest, grinding and staring at Steve over her shoulder.
Steve, who’s standing in the middle of a sea of dancers, holding a fucking watermelon. He’s wearing loafers for Christ sake.
The song ends and Chrissy catches sight of Steve, she drags her partner over just as Robin comes back, taking the watermelon from Steve.
“What’s he doing here?” The man asks rudely, nodding his chin at Steve but looking at Robin.
“He’s cool. He helped me carry a watermelon.” Robin chirps, heading toward the tables of food.
The guy looks at Steve again, he’s got a toothpick in the corner of his mouth and he chews on it, rolling it from one side to the other. He’s like, insanely sexy.
“I carried a watermelon.” Steve repeats, dumbly. The man raises his eyebrow and Chrissy snorts a laugh behind her hand.
“Steve, this is Eddie, my dance partner. Eddie, this is Steve. He’s a guest but he’s a nice one.” Chrissy tugs on Eddie’s hand but not to leave, just to signal to him maybe? A reminder to be nice and not eat the guests.
Steve ups the anti on just how stupid he can look but finger waving. Eddie huffs out a scoff and turns away, tugging Chrissy with him back to the dance floor.
Steve mouths, “I carried a watermelon?” at their backs, slapping himself in the forehead as he follows where Robin had gone.
He finds her at the table, not cutting the watermelon. There’s a guy there loudly reminding her she’s not allowed near the knives and she says, “yeah yeah yeah, shut it.” Before turning to Steve, “Hey Dingus, I added two more tallies for you. One in the You Rule column for helping me with my melons.” She leers and he balks. “And the other in the You Suck column for drooling over Eddie. Gross.”
“I was not!” He hisses even though he totally was. Whatever.
He turns back to watch the crowd. It’s not like people don’t dance like this. It’s the 80s not the 60s, but he’s never seen it this up close and personal. It’s like everyone’s fucking with their clothes on. It’s kinda hot. Okay, it’s a lot hot.
It’s completely unintentional but Steve is watching as Chrissy pulls away from Eddie, kisses him on the cheek and waves as she runs out the door. He can hear her bright happy giggle as she goes. When Steve turns back to look at the crowd, Eddie’s staring at him. Contemplating.
When he moves toward Steve, it’s liquid, like a panther. The crowd subconsciously parts for him so he never needs to pause his stride or adjust it. Steve’s still pinned in place when Eddie stops in front of him, throws the toothpick to the ground and takes Steve’s hand. He turns just as fluidly and leads Steve to the middle of the dancers.
It doesn’t even occur to Steve that he can protest.
When Eddie turns back to him, Steve swallows a few times, “I…I don’t know how to dance like this.” He looks at the couples gyrating all around him and then back at Eddie, aware that his eyes are wide and terrified.
Eddie’s cheek lifts up as he smiles with one side of his mouth and leans in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “I’ll show you how. It’s easy.”
Steve shudders and is mortified because he knows Eddie felt it but Eddie doesn’t mention it, just slides his hands over Steve’s hips as Steve starts to shift side to side.
“Less like a doll that only bends at the waist and more of a roll. Like, roll up from your hips and out of your chest.” Steve tries it but he feels stiff. Eddie does the roll and looks absolutely sinful doing it. His hips do this push up thing and Steve’s brain makes a blip noise and then shuts off. “Like a puppet, but the only string is here.” One of his hands skates across Steve’s flat belly, the thumb tapping just above his belly button before it resumes it’s place on his hip.
Luckily they’re not pressed together when it happens because Steve’s dick twitches in his pants and he swallows a whimper. He has to blink and shake himself to regain his composure.
Eddie does it again, the roll, keeping his eyes on Steve as Steve tries and fails to mimic him. “You gotta relax, baby.” 
Ugh. Baby. He wants to insist that Eddie call him Steve but he doesn’t want to break up whatever this dance lesson is. One of Eddie’s hands moves from Steve’s hip to his lower back, bringing him closer so his hips are flush with Eddie’s and he feels it when Eddie rolls into him.
A strangled sound escapes Steve’s lips and he hopes to all hell that it's too loud in here for Eddie to have heard that. His arms sort of dangle uselessly and he looks around to see what everyone else is doing with theirs. Oh. Resting them on their partner. Okay. He can do that.
He brings one hand up to rest on Eddie’s shoulder, it’s sweaty where their skin comes in contact. Instead of finding that gross, Steve is finding it pretty fucking hot. His other hand finds purchase on the arm wrapped around Steve’s back still. Eddie’s bare bicep filling Steve’s palm. Everything feels looser now, his hips are rolling and his chest isn’t so tight so he can breathe.
Eddie dances two songs with Steve like that and by the end, he’s feeling loose and sexy. When the second song ends, everyone jumps around, cheering. Steve turns back to Eddie but he’s gone. Turning in circles, Steve just barely catches sight of Eddie leaving before Robin is there to pluck Steve off the dance floor.
“Don’t take it personally. Eddie loves that people think he’s scary and mysterious.” She rolls her eyes to convey what she thinks of that. “Come have some of this watermelon that you carried, it’s really good!”
It is actually a very good watermelon. Steve takes a slice with him to eat on his way back to his cabana. It’s a long walk but it’s nice outside and the crickets and frogs are chirping and croaking in the soft breeze.
When he sneaks into his room with Carol, she’s awake, demanding to know where he’s been. 
“I covered for you like old times so you owe me.” She informs him. They used to cover for each other without keeping track of what was owed. Guess they’re not on that level anymore.
He sighs, grabbing his pajama pants and going into their ensuite bathroom but not bothering to close the door. She can’t see him from her angle. “I just took a walk. This place is really pretty at night. You should check it out.” He brushes his teeth and closes the door long enough to take a piss. 
When he comes back out, she’s rolled to face his bed, “What do you think about Tommy - or that guy Jason? Dad really liked them both. And they’re both hot in different ways.”
“I don’t think anything about either of them but if you want them, you should go for them.”
“What happened to the time when you had good taste in boys?” She flops onto her back on her twin bed.
He snorts, “I think your good taste and my good taste stopped being the same awhile ago.” He misses the time when they were friends but he doesn’t miss her being jealous of guys he didn’t like who liked him, “And besides, this way, we’ll never like the same guys again.”
“That’s true.” She contemplates. “Now stop talking, I need my beauty sleep.” She pulls her eyemask down and ignores him.
Which is fine by him. Carol’s always been kind of a viper. He’s glad they’re not fighting over boys anymore, that’s for sure.
*
It’s another day of activities. Steve plays bridge with an entire table of people old enough to be his grandparents. It earns him another tally in the You Rule column though so that’s something. 
After art and “dance” lessons where Steve spends more time teasing Robin than anything else, Steve takes his towel and goes to the pool. He swims laps until he’s worn out and then takes a long nap before dinner. Dinner is much the same and it’s not a dance night in the main hall so they’re done early. When Tommy asks if “Baby” would like to go for a walk, Richard Harrington claps him on the shoulder and says, “Of course, he would, son. You boys have a nice evening.”
And Steve is stuck because he’s got no excuse not to and it would be rude to say no after his father accepted it. He doesn’t groan out loud but internally it’s almost a scream.
Tommy takes him on a tour, like he hasn’t already seen the grounds. A lot of his commentary is so fucking elitist and classist that Steve can’t even figure out what to respond. He doesn’t need to though because Tommy barely notices his lack of participation. He’s way too busy listening to himself talk.
The dining hall looks dark as they head back toward it and Tommy says, “Hey, do you want ice cream?”
Actually.
“Sure, why not?” Sneaking into the kitchen after close to steal ice cream sounds like something Tommy thinks is his richboy given right but it also sounds kind of fun.
They don’t bother to turn the lights on, Tommy opens the freezer and peers in, illuminating them both and the first few feet of floor beyond.
There’s a sniffle and Steve turns to see Chrissy curled up in the corner, trying to stay quiet, she shakes her head frantically and Steve puts his arm around Tommy’s shoulders pulling him away from turning to see Chrissy. “You know what, actually, ice cream sounds like a little much. Dinner was so good and I’m still full. Walk me home?”
“Sure, Baby.” Tommy smiles and it’s so smarmy that Steve almost gags. He looks over Tommy’s shoulder as he closes the fridge and mouths, “stay.” Then he takes Tommy’s hand and leads him back out into the night.
After getting rid of Tommy, Steve races to the dance gazebo where they play music and couples waltz in the warm night air. He knows Robin is working the music because she complained about it earlier. There she is, standing by the record player, grumbling about music choices when Steve skids to a stop in front of her, breathing heavily, “It’s Chrissy.”
Suddenly Eddie is there, somehow still dangerous in a white tuxedo jacket. He grabs Steve’s arm, pulling him away from the gazebo as Robin taps another employee and hands them a stack of records, “What do mean? Where is she?”
“Hey, let go, I didn’t hurt her!” Steve yanks his arm out of Eddie’s grip, rubbing it. For a moment, Eddie looks like he might apologize but he sets his jaw and glares at Steve. “I just saw her. She’s in the kitchen, crying.” 
Eddie spins on his heel, storming off to the kitchen with Robin and Steve following closely.
“Damn it Chrissy. I told her. I told her,” Eddie grumbles as he stomps angrily across the grounds, his hair is starting to come loose from its bun, tendrils of curls falling down and bouncing wildly in his agitation.
“What? What’s wrong with her?” Steve asks no one in particular.
Robin is one of those people who babbles when she’s nervous though and she immediately spills her guts, “She’s knocked up.”
Eddie spins around and stares at Robin with his jaw hanging open, “Robin, what the fuck?”
“Oh shit. Oh shit!” She stammers, flapping her hands around, “Don’t tell anyone Steve!”
“I’m not going to, I wouldn’t.” Steve insists. Eddie glares but starts walking again. Steve stares at his back for a moment before he follows. Looking at Robin, he asks, “What’s he gonna do about it?”
Eddie spins back around again, pointing at himself as he steps toward Steve, “What? Me? It’s not mine. Why-nevermind.” He spins back and pushes the door to the kitchen open.
Robin and Steve wait just inside, by the door, guarding it as Eddie goes into the corner to where Chrissy is still huddled. “Hey sweetheart, I’m here. Eddie’s here. I got you.” He scoops her up.
The faint light glints off of her beaded dress and Steve rushes in to grab her shoes off the floor, following behind as they sneak out and down a path through to the employee buildings.
They duck into the dance hall he’d seen them throwing the party in. It’s empty now. Eddie puts Chrissy down to sit on a couch, Robin goes over to a closet and pulls out a blanket, tucking it around her. Steve leans just inside the doorway, still holding her shoes. 
Eddie paces back and forth in front of the couch, his hair has come completely free of the bun and he looks a bit like a caged lion. “What did I tell you? You should have come to me.” He finally sits, taking her hand in his.
“Eddie, no. I already told you, no, I can’t take your money.” He sits down, looks like he’s about to protest but Chrissy stops him with a hand on his arm, “Besides, it wouldn’t be enough.”
She starts to cry again, “It’s hopeless.”
It’s heartbreaking to see her like this, she’s so bright and vibrant. So young. And yeah, Steve has no idea what it’s like to live their lives but he can’t just let her give up hope, “Hey, Chrissy, don’t say that. It’s not hopeless.”
“Baby. That’s what they call you, right? Robin said your name was Steve but everyone calls you Baby.” She’s not unkind but he flinches anyway, “With all due respect, you don’t know anything about it.”
Robin shifts guiltily, clears her throat.
Chrissy stares at her, “You didn’t?! Now he’s gonna tell the Hagans and we’ll all be out on the street. Everyone’s gonna know that Chrissy Cunningham got knocked up by Jason Carver.” She’s angry but her tears haven’t stopped.
Steve gasps, “Jason? But he’s all about family values - if you just tell him, he’ll take care of it, take care of you.”
Chrissy laughs but it’s brittle and empty sounding, “He already knows.”
Robin stands up, trying to smooth everyone’s ruffled feathers probably, “Look, we all knew Jason wouldn’t help.” She spits it out vehemently, “He’s a prick.” She licks her lips nervously, “We heard about a traveling doctor who’ll do one, but he only goes through here once a month. Next Thursday. It’s five hundred bucks though. That’s why Chrissy told Jason, trying to get him to pay for it or at least help out. What an asshole.” Robin rounds back to the couch to put her arms around Chrissy.
Chrissy needs help. And Steve wants to help people. Real people. In real ways. Not just raise money for some nameless faceless charity. He wants to change lives. He sets the strappy heels on the table and says, “I’ll be right back.” 
As soon as he scoots out the door, he runs. His cabana is all the way across the grounds. Gotta keep the help as far away from the elite as possible, right? He passes couples out on walks, employees hustling back and forth and when he gets to his cabana he finds his dad sitting out on the porch smoking a cigar.
Swallowing down his nerves, Steve fixes his hair, his sweater, looks presentable like he’s expected to and then he takes a leap of faith.
“Dad?”
“Hey Baby, you have a nice night with Tommy? He’s a nice boy, good family.” Richard swirls the whiskey in his glass, squints up at Steve until Steve sits on the top step and he can look down at him. “Probably not right for my Baby though.” 
Steve smiles. His dad isn’t a drinker. Never has been. He allows himself one glass of whiskey a night on holidays or vacations but never as a routine and never more than one. Has always told Steve that a man should have his capacities in case he needs to protect what’s his. Richard is a good man, a good dad. Even if he insists on calling Steve Baby still. Even if he doesn’t really understand Steve all that much.
“Dad, I need a favor. And you can’t ask what it’s about because it’s not my place to tell you. Not my secret to share.” His dad nods, face scrunching up in concern. “Can I borrow five hundred dollars? I’ll pull it out of my account and pay you back when we get back home.”
“It’s to help someone?” Richard asks and when Steve nods, he sets the glass down on the railing and goes inside. Comes back out with a stack of twenty dollar bills. “I trust you, Baby.”
Steve gets up and throws his arms around him, “Thanks, Dad.”
*
The door creaks a bit when he walks back into the hall. Eddie, Chrissy and Robin look up. Eddie looks like he’s about to grab Steve by the scruff of his neck and toss him out on his ass. Steve rushes over anyway, hands the wad of bills to Chrissy.
“What? Steve, you can’t do this. I can’t pay this back.” But she’s clutching it so tightly that her knuckles are white. The only thing standing between her and the rest of her life is this stupid money and as much as she doesn’t want it, she fucking needs it. Steve can see it in her eyes.
“Listen, it’s only money to me. To you, it’s…well, it’s more.” He’s not sure what to say without assuming things about her life and her needs. And without sounding like an asshole. “You don’t have to pay me back. And don’t say thank you, please. Five hundred bucks and your poor taste in men shouldn’t ruin your life.”
Eddie laughs, he looks surprised by it and by Steve but he shakes his head, crosses his ankle over his knee and looks at Chrissy like, “Your move.”
“It’s not just the money.” She sighs, “We got a standing gig that night. In another hotel. If we cancel, we’ll lose our spot and they will replace us next summer.”
“What if Steve went in your place?” Robin suggests.
Steve looks at her like she’s grown a second head. “ Me? What about you? You’d fit in the dress better than I would!”
Robin snorts, “You don’t have to wear a dress, dingus. You can wear a tux. I know you brought one for formal night. If not, we can find a spare in the employee uniforms.”
“That’s a terrible idea. Literally anyone would be better.” Eddie scoffs and Steve takes offense.
“Everyone else is working.” Chrissy says, looking at Steve in a way that has him concerned.
“He couldn’t do it.” Eddie says, “ Look at him.”
“Yes, I can.” Steve insists with more force than he intends. “Don’t tell me what I can and cannot do.”
And wait. Why is Steve arguing to do this? Steve is very firmly on Team Steve Doesn’t Do This.
“Eddie, you can teach anyone to dance,” Chrissy says. “And it doesn’t have to be the best, just good enough that we don’t get fired.”
“We’re gonna have to work every day, all of my hours off. You’ll be giving up your most of your vacation.” Eddie warns, glaring at Steve again.
“Good.” Steve says, crossing his arms. Still not sure how he got to this place but contrary enough that he’s not backing down.
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apolloanddaphnis · 10 months
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Speaking in Tongues
Part V (I think)
Disclaimer: it's inappropriate and Timothée is entering his dark daddy era (thank you @meetmyothersouls )
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♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡
Minka's POV
"It was just Hayden darling, nothing to start a commonwealth war about." The moment I got off the phone with Hayden and returned to me and Timothée's bubble, I was in for a lecture.
He wasn't the timid boy I met at Houdini's Mansion in Laurel Canyon. 
Something offset a possessive gene in him, I'm not going to lie, his unstable covetous dominance is very attractive. 
Right now, he was sitting on the edge of his messy bed in just his sweatpants that hung low on his thin hips. I could see the top of public hair and it was distracting. His curls were messy due to my tugging and our tossing. His eyebrows that are aesthetically pleasing are even dominant, almost a unibrow but not quite, that with his nose have an arabesque quality, very beautiful. I watched his jaw clench, showing off his high cheekbones, a Capricorn trait.
"He wants you. Everyone knows that.' He emphasized every word, as he spoke with his hands. 
"How do you know it's not one of the many Hollywood rumors?" I countered.
"Chouchou, people in our circles have told me." He smirked without humor in his Hazel eyes. 
"They're mistaken, we're just good friends and I help him with Rose." Briar Rose Christensen is Hayden's adorable six year old daughter, by Rachel Bilson. She barely acknowledges her daughter sadly but Hayden doesn't seem to mind, he's sweetly selfish with his child who adores him. I love her, and help spoil her. I buy everything in sight for a child for her, we've been to Disneyland and Knotts, I've taken her to Camelot in Buena Park too. People seem to think it means I'm seeing Hayden but I'm not. 
We've acted together intimately, he has asked me out once but I turned him down, I didn't want to ruin our friendship.  He's gotten over me.
Timothee isn't convinced.
"Come here, we're putting a pause on this discussion. But that doesn't mean it's over." His voice had an end of discussion tone. I obediently made my way over to him and he pulled me down in his lap, hands tightly gripping my waist as he rubbed his nose against my chest and sighed. I tenderly brushed my fingers through his soft ringlets.
I felt his bones melt as I massaged his scalp. This feels more intimate than a night and morning of passion. "I'm sorry, I know I'm being toxic and I know you didn't expect anything but a hookup, but chouchou, there's a connection I feel with you and I'm going to  risk looking like an idiot and say that there's definitely something more."
My heart pounded in my chest, my stomach was being eaten like it was wool to moths. I know it's fast but I've always had a thing for him so this was like a fantasy come to life. I stroked his cheek tenderly with my thumb, he has such a pretty face.
"You can totally call me a psycho and tell me to beat it if you want." He said this but his hands squeezing me tighter said others, there was no way I was leaving this lap anytime soon. 
"What does chouchou mean?"
He groaned "don't tease me Minka–"
"Oh so you do know my name!" I joked.
"Yes of course, and it's the most beautiful name I've ever had the pleasure of hearing. But you're so precious and deserve many names, not just one." He kissed my throat and then the top of my breasts, sending shivers through my body. "Many things, it's a term of endearment, like my pet, my dear, my darling, and comparable to a little baubles or chachki."
I bit my lip and stroked behind his ear, emitting a shiver from him. "Like I'm your little pretty bauble, or trinket?"
His hands cupped my curvaceous ass pulling me impossibly closer. "Something Like that."
"I like that…I like you, I feel the connection too, koza." I kissed behind his ear before moving my lips down to his neck. He gripped my waist with a moan.
He tugged down his sweats a little more to release his bobbing cock, and then lifted my hips, before thrusting his thick, long length  up inside of me.
Thank God he got me ibuprofen because I'd still be sore. What am I saying? Like that would stop me. I rode him until I forgot my own name and only remembered his.
 
We made love four more times before taking a nap. I woke up after twenty three minutes and cooked us something to eat. I made us crispy chicken fettuccine Alfredo, with a lot of Trebbiano wine in the sauce and a little bit of truffle oil. I poured a glass to drink. It wasn't bad, a Trebbiano D'Abruzzo by Citra. It's soft, dry, and pleasantly floral with a crisp, citrus finish. I made a broccoli and prosciutto salad to go with the late lunch. I walked around his house with my glass of Trebbiano, it wasn't too personal of a house since he lives mostly in New York. 
I frowned thinking of what I'd do without him when he was in the big apple. Not even twenty four hours and this man has got me wounded with a cupid's arrow. But I've never felt such a strong connection. I wore his Bauhaus t-shirt smelling it, he smells so good oh God. There's just something so specifically Timothée about it.
Suddenly music played through the speakers throughout the house, modern r&B. I felt his presence before he entered the room, then the warmth of his chest pressed into my back and his arms enveloped my waist. I closed my eyes and was reminded of the soreness in my cunt.
I laid my hand on his wrist pressing myself closer as he kissed my neck. I wordlessly handed him the Trebbiano and he finished the rest. "It smells good, you're cooking for me?"
I nodded.
"No one's ever cooked for me before. " He said as felt my thighs. "Except my mom of course."
"Really?" I asked in disbelief.
"Yeah, you have to remember the majority of my relationships are for work so the sentimentality is lost."
Ah yes, the woes of being an actor. "But any secret relationships?" He had me melted against his chest in his arms . He shook his head. "Too busy and I'm not very popular." He laughed.
I scoffed. "You're a liar, magazine's call you a sex icon." 
"Yeah well if I wasn't famous and put into the position I think I wouldn't have so many admirers."
I rolled my eyes. "Koza, that's crazy talk." I turned around in his arms and placed my hands on his naked chest, I looked up into his eyes seductively paired with a smirk, I knew he couldn't look away from my very full lips and the natural nearly heart shaped beauty mark at the corner of my lips. His eyes turned a fog green when he was horny, I noticed. "Handsome, let me tell you. You look exactly like the type of boys I went for when I wasn't going for girls." He swallowed, causing his Adam's apple to bob. "Lanky, skinny, big hand, perry Farrell kind of charmer" I pushed him onto the sofa and straddled him. "And I know you have no idea who that is, but baby let me tell you that's my type and that is such a good thing." I licked his chest up his neck and he whimpered. I rubbed my pussy against his cock before I was flipped over and he slammed into me in one motion.
My eyes widened and I gasped, feeling like a well chewed squeak toy. His thrusts were dangerously deep and wickedly slow. I stared up into his eyes boldly as I released cries of Rapture and squeezed around his endowment.  His eyebrows furrowed as he glared into my eyes with burning heat. I screamed in ecstasy as we didn't look away, we just stared and let go and it was so intimate.
He came in me again and I felt alive, it felt like waves crashing against the rocks of a cliff, but fuck. "Shit, Tim, I told you I'm not on-"
He kissed my lips quiet. When I was light headed he pulled his mouth off of me. I opened my mouth to speak and he slowly pulled out and slapped my ass. "Let's go eat, you took my energy." 
"Tim–"
"Let's eat."
I knew I wasn't going to be able to get through not now, so I got up with his help and he pulled me to his lovely kitchen.
We ate until we couldn't move and he told me I cook better than  anyone he's ever eaten from. I was too happy to care about the cum dripping down my leg.
@sufferingstarlight @meetmyothersouls
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jake-g-lockley · 2 years
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hey akka<333 I just saw your requests are open!!
can i please have a moonboys x desi!reader(doesn't have to be tamil, im only half tamil, so~) where moonboys have to go to india(her hometown, maybe hyderabad? ) for like a mission and reader begs to tag along because she hasn't been there in months and so when they're there she takes them along to all the monuments and introduces then to like indian food, AUTHENTIC indian food and like Jake is going feral over everything, Marc is enjoying the food and steven is drooling over the monuments. and reader runs into her old friends who were toxic and made hr=er her feel like shit and shes kinda gets into a spiral about herself and moonboys reassure her that they love her and calm her down? THANK YOU AKKA YOU ARE BY NO MEANS IN ANY WAY PRESSURE TO DO THIS, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU
Hyderabad Diaries (Steven Grant x desi!reader, Marc Spector x desi!reader, Jake Lockley x desi!reader)
Masterlist
Summary: Your boyfriends are going on a mission and you wanted to tag along :) Warnings: Swearing, a little angst, mentions of weapons. Word Count: 2.7k words
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A/N: Here you go! Again thank you so so much for the requests sweethearttt <333 I tried to make this as fluffy as possible. (Also ik the song above is about friendship but I THINK ITS CUTE FOR THIS OKAY)
Tagging: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @pakhiya @ahookedheroespureheart @swiggy-needs-mental-help
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You always hated it when your boyfriends had to leave for missions. You knew the suit they had would most definitely protect them and keep them away from harm but you worried endlessly about them and would constantly curse the moon god that would drag them around for these missions.
“Darling, it'll only be for one or two weeks, I promise, we’ll be safe and we will text and call.” Steven says, neatly folding his clothes and slotting them into the luggage bag.
You pulled a sweater that he just folded out of the bag and hugged it close, nuzzling the soft material with your nose, smelling the faint smell of Steven’s cologne. Your eyes threatened to tear up again. You couldn’t do it, your heart was aching.
“Where are you guys going anyway?” you say, trying to distract yourself by helping Steven.
“Oh umm, top secret, mission things.” Steven mumbles, avoiding your eye, making you frown.
“Steven, what are you not telling me?” you say, your heart speeding up.
“Uhh, ohh, I think Marc is better at handling this.” Steven mumbles again and dipped so fast that you don't have time to react.
You stare unbelievingly at Marc who gives you a nervous smile and backs away slowly from the table that you were sitting at. You got off the chair and glared at Marc.
“What are you guys hiding from me, Spector, you better tell me, or I swear I will torture it out of you.” you say clawing your fingers as you approach him.
“OKAY! FINE, I’LL TELL YOU WHERE WE ARE GOING, PLEASE, STOP!” he screams, gasping for air as you tickle.
You sit back on your legs, satisfied with your work.
“We’re going to Hyderabad.” Marc mumbles and your jaw drops open.
“No way, really?” you say, unable to contain your surprise and Marc nods.
“Please take me with you, please. I haven’t been home for months, please Marc, baby.” You plead instantly, scooching closer to him.
“I knew you would ask me, that's why I wouldn't tell you.” He frowns. “I can’t take you along for a mission, sweetheart.”
“Dude, it's my home, I’ll be safe, please, I promise, just lemme come with you, yea?” you say, gripping his bicep, rubbing circles.
Marc glares at you but you could tell that he was slowly giving in, his eyes betraying him.
“You’re lucky that we love you so much.” Marc scowls and grumbles and you crush him in a hug and smother him with kisses.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
On the day of departure from Heathrow Airport you were literally bouncing up and down with excitement.
Marc, on the other hand, was on his weird ‘father duties’ whereby he didn’t let you do a single thing, checking in the bags with his hands on his hips and making sure for the hundredth time he had the correct passport and tickets. You watch him with a small smile and shake your head at his behavior, realizing that he would make a really cute dad.
The flight took off without any issues and soon you were soaring through the skies. Three hours into the flight, the flight attendants came around with their food carts.
“Would you like anything, ma’am.”
“Just a coffee please!” You say smiling up at the flight attendant, but your smile flattered when you saw where she was looking.
“And a side of stop-eyeing-my-man.” You mumble.
“Sorry ma’am?” The flight attendant asked
“Nothing.” You smile sweetly, taking the coffee and curling your fingers around Marc’s bicep, tightening your grip on him.
“Possessive much, sweetheart?” Marc whispered, chuckling as you glared at the air stewardess’ retreating figure.
“You’d do the same, asshole.” you say pinching him softly and he pretends to die from the pain, making you laugh.
The nine hour flight was quicker with Marc by your side and the second the both of you stepped out of Rajiv Gandhi International Airport, you were greeted by Jake, who stretched and yawned from the long flight, grabbing your bags and pecking your cheek.
You breathe in the familiar smell of home and feel it envelope you. You spot your cousins at the entrance and run up to give them a hug, Jake trudging behind you.
“Anu, Hari, Vani, this is my boyfriend, Marc. Marc, my cousins Anushri, Harini and Bhavani. And this handsome man is my uncle, Vas.” you quickly introduce the lot. Jake smiles at your cousins and shakes your uncle’s hand, helping him load the stuff to the car.
Jake sat in the front, making small talk with your uncle while you and your cousins squeezed into the back seat of your uncle’s car. Within 20 minutes, you were at your grandmother’s home where you and Jake were welcomed with an aarti and loads of hugs. Jake leaned down and touched your grandma’s feet, seeking her blessing, which made your heart almost explode with adoration for him.
“Ma, you didn’t tell me that this handsome man was so charming over your calls?” your grandma gushed over Jake, reaching up to pat his face as he gave her a dopey grin.
“You talk to your grandma about me?” Jake whispered as he and you followed your cousin up the stairs.
“No, I talk to her about Gus the flippin' fish on a daily basis.” you say blandly, rolling your eyes at him, making him chuckle. “Of course I talk about you, dummy.” you continue as the both of you part to go to different rooms.
You were to sleep with your cousins and Jake got one of your cousins rooms. You knew that the boys would be out most of the time and you've already made an excuse for him as to why he would be out for long hours, telling your family that he would be going to a few meetups for an artifact, which was not exactly a lie.
You knew that Khonshu probably is sending them to find another world-ending artifact that the gods had left lying around Earth hundreds of thousands of years ago.
“Amor, I'm gonna excuse myself. You have fun and stay out of trouble.” Jake enters your room and kisses your forehead.
“Don’t do anything stupid.” You say poking his chest and he chuckles again before exiting the room, leaving your cousins to stare at you open mouthed.
“What?” you stare back and exaggeratedly widen your eyes, eyebrows furrowing.
“Spanish?! And the FOREHEAD KISS?!!” Anu shouts, making you hiss.
“Oh, yea. And Arabic, some French and Ancient Egyptian, for obvious reasons.” You say, counting off the languages, grinning from ear to ear.
“Arabic, French and Spanish? The holy trinity of beautiful languages? And he looks good too. You didn’t tell us he looked that good, you just said he was cute?” Vani questions.
You throw a decorative pillow at her and she laughs.
“Why don’t you ask him when he comes back for dinner?” you challenge her.
“Deal.”
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The boys didn’t arrive for dinner and you made a sly excuse for them to your family, stating that he was having dinner with the artifact dealers. Despite feeling extremely tired, your cousins dragged you to get ready to go out and meet some friends at an open bar. You reluctantly agreed to it and sent a text to the boys before leaving.
Going to an open bar to meet up with old friends, hope everything is alright, love you xxx.
You hit send on the text and sigh, the pit of your stomach swirling with worry. You look up to the full moon that is shining amongst the stars and smile, telling yourself that they will be fine.
The open bar was lovely and you sipped a little sunset martini as you caught up with your friends.
“So, Y/N, how's life?” one of your friends, Shahira asks.
“Pretty normal. Um, my job is steady and I’m relatively happy in London.” you say with a smile.
Your life was far from normal, but you definitely wouldn’t admit your little secret to your cousin and friends.
“She’s being humble,” Anu says, nudging you, “You should see the hottie that she brought back here.”
Just as she says it, you hear the words ‘mummified vigilante’ float into your ears and you whip your head around to the TV that was switched to the news channel. And there he was, clear as day, your “hottie” running at an unfathomable speed in the Moon Knight suit, trying to get away from the press camera, cape swishing in the wind. The people around you gasp and you turn around, downing your sunset martini in one go, eyes wide.
Well that's one way to find out that they are okay.
Clearing your throat, you frown at your friends. “Who the hell was that?” you said, masking your worry with confusion.
“Dunno. Never saw ‘em before.” your friend says.
After a while the bar simmers down and everyone is back to their own business but your heart is pounding against your chest and you take slow breaths to calm yourself down.
“So, as I was saying, Y/N’s hunk of a boyfriend is living with us. He speaks five languages and is American!” your cousin says and you glare at her for going on and on about your boyfriend.
“Got a picture? Let's see him then.” one of your friends says and before you could say no, your cousin whips out her phone and shows a picture of him.
“Dude, did you sneakily take a picture of him?” you hissed at her while your friends stare at the picture. “He’s a very private guy!”
With a lot of enemies.
“Damn, Y/N, did you use a love potion on this guy? He’s so out of your range.” Shahira says, making you frown.
“I..don’t follow?”
“He’s hot and you’re, you.” She says, gesturing at you, smirking as your frown deepens.
“You’re too drab for someone like him, Y/N. You probably bore him, like you bore us. Or maybe he likes ugly girls.” She continues, miming shoving two fingers down her throat and pretending to puke.
You stare in disbelief at Shahira, a friend that you've known for years, who was dragging you down for something so impervious.
“I don’t get it, are you, like, jealous or something?” You ask before you can stop yourself, your cousin staying silent beside you.
“Jealous? Of you? Plain, old, drab, Y/N? Oh please, I could take him away from you with the snap of my fingers.” She smugly says.
“Unless of course, you paid him some money to come with you? That's why he’s not here right now with you, hmm?” Your friends around you giggle like a bunch of school girls and you feel your face heating up.
Your blood boiled and you wished you had one of Marc’s crescent darts, Steven’s batons or even Jake's gun in your hand right now. You stood up and pulled a few notes out of your purse and slammed it down onto the table, making the glasses clink.
“You know what, I’m leaving. You all can keep making more of your theories, just never speak to me again. And Anu? I’m so fucking disappointed with you.” You say and turn, stomping away, trying to hold back your tears as you frantically call a cab.
You cried all the way home; the alcohol, the constant worry that you had for your boyfriends and the embarrassment you felt just now, piling together into one big emotional landslide.
You kick your shoes off at the landing and run up to the boys’ room, which you presumably thought was empty, so you flung the door open and attempted to dive onto the bed but instead you collided with a wall of muscle.
“Darling? Why are you crying? Bollocks, are you hurt? Did something happen, my love?” Steven’s frantic voice travels into your ear and you hug him tightly. He tips your face up to meet his eyes.
“Don’t look at me, I’m ugly.” You mumble as Steven scrunches his face into a confused expression.
“What happened, honey? Did something happen just now?” He says softly, wiping your eyes with the pads of his thumbs, cradling your face in his palms.
You shake your head, tears threatening to leak out of your eyes again.
“It’s ok, I’m here when you're ready.” He said soothingly, one hand leaving your face to pull you closer to his chest.
“Do I bore you, Steven?” you whisper into his thin t-shirt.
“What? No, no darling, you don’t bore me at all.” Steven says, shifting slightly to look down at you. “What makes you say that?”
You slowly tell him what your friends said about you and him.
“Oh please, we’re not teenagers, my love, we’re adults.” Steven chuckled. “Besides, Marc and Jake are not that good looking, maybe I am but the other two are- OWW!” You look up to see Steven pulling and twisting his own ear and a laugh escapes you instantly.
Steven sinks into the parquet floor and drags you down, pulling you onto his lap. You immediately press your forehead into his neck as he holds you.
“We personally think you’re gorgeous and probably the most interesting person out of the four of us.” Steven says into your hair. “Don’t let their words get to you, my love. I don’t think they really know the real value of you, the way me, Marc and Jake see you. You’re our perfect angel.”
You nod and stay there a little longer, absorbing Steven’s energy.
“I saw you guys on the news.” You whispered.
“Oh yea, pesky news van didn’t wanna let us go, the bastards.” Steven chuckled. “But great news, we found the thing that Khonshu was looking for. Didn’t expect to finish the job so fast, innit?”
He pointed to a little gold bracelet on the table and you grinned.
“Does this mean you have time to spend with me here?” You say, looking up at him.
“Of course, we can have all the fun you want.” He smiled.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The next day was probably the most amazing day you had spent with the boys in a long time.
You woke up to a beautiful authentic Indian breakfast spread made by your grandmother that you and Jake finished in less than ten minutes and still wanted more. Jake showered your grandmother with flattery which only made her feed him more food.
“Ammama, you're going to turn him into a lazy hibernating bear, I wanna take him around town!” you tell her as she attempts to serve him again.
She pinched his cheeks and ruffled his hair, making him grin and stick his tongue out at you. You glare playfully at your grandmother.
“I’m her favorite now.” he whispers, smirking.
Avoiding your cousins, you and Steven decided to leave early to take a bus to Golconda Fort. You listened intently to Steven’s explanations about the place that he read out of the book and animated it to you with his expressions.
You had been here before for a school trip but you have to admit that Steven made the experience more entertaining than you had intended. Sooner or later, people started to gather around and listen to Steven instead of the actual tour guide.
“Steven, Steven, baby, we’re gonna get kicked out.” you whispered as Steven smiles shyly at the crowd around him and you.
Marc had found some street snacks and after a long few hours of walking together, you both slumped onto a bench.
“Good god, Steven really talks a lot doesn’t he? My jaw hurts from rambling so much.” Marc says, rubbing his face.
“Are you sure it's because Steven talks a lot or because you and Jake clench your jaw to the point of damage.” you tease, cupping his face in your hands and squeezing his cheeks together, making him pout like a duck.
“Maybe both.” he mumbles and rolls his eyes.
You laugh and let go of his face, leaning your head onto his shoulder and continue to savor your snack.
“Marc?”
“Mhmm?”
“Thanks for letting me come with you guys.”
“I was scared to death thinking that you would tickle me to high heaven if I said no.” he says back.
“Don’t be a wuss.” you chuckle.
“Yes, yes, love you too.” Marc says, nudging you.
☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Translations:
Hyderabad: Hyderabad is the capital of southern India's Telangana state.
Amor: Love
Ammama: Grandma
Golconda Fort: Built by Qutub Shahi Kings, this fort presents an impressive structure, with eight gates and 87 bastions.
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bbwithaknife · 1 year
Text
Cornfields (Corey Cunningham x Reader)
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Hello hello happy Friday 13th! Enjoy some angst with this spooky boy. Note that italics are a flashback! You can also find me on Twitter and AO3 as ArtrMrgn
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, knife mention. If you think of anything else let me know!
Word Count: 1,384
Music blasts from the bar. Some song about a girl pining for a man she'll never get. Oh, the irony. You look down at your almost-empty red solo cup and swirl around the contents, trying your best not to steal glimpses of the Cat and the Scarecrow.
You know both identities, in reality. Allyson Nelson and Corey Cunningham. Allyson was your towns Winona Ryder knock off from "Heathers" but it suited her. She had "effortless cool girl" down pat, which you admired. 
And unfortunately, were also jealous of. But deep down you knew it wasn't really for her cool girl demeanor but rather the attention she was getting from the straw man in the purple hat. 
Curly haired cutie pie Corey Cunnigham had you head over heels. The reluctant Mama's boy with no social circle was really who you were wanting to lay it all on the line for. 
If anyone had a hell of a life at 24, it was Corey. All of Haddonfield knew the reason why and 99% of the town despised him. But save for you and the Strode's, you were all that Corey had in his corner.
The two of them were moving out of sync, but they were both having fun and in the end that’s what Corey needed and deserved. 
You chug the remainder of your drink and crush your cup, tossing it into the trash. It’s not like you came to the bar with Corey anyway. To be honest you hadn’t really shared more than a few words with him since the cornfields. 
As the mud squished between the grooves of your boots taking the fallen autumn leaves and dry corn husks with it, you regretted not following Corey’s lead. He had brought garbage bags, the ones you use for the bin in the bathroom or the trash can under the kitchen sink, and had tied them around his ankles with some twine, saving the canvas of his sneakers and rubber outsoles. 
Another step had you cringing slightly. The squish of clay earth between your feet never felt pleasant and was a bitch to clean off. It didn’t help that dry pieces of corn kernels would be stuck in your boots making it look like a dog’s shit when it got into the canned goods. Fucking gross. 
Corey Cunningham couldn’t help but let out a chuckle in jest as you tried and failed to put as little pressure as possible into the ground.  
“It’s a sensory thing!” You whined, turning around to meet his smile with your own almost face to face. You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten. Even with the awful squelch of mud Corey was as quiet as a mouse.  He towered over you despite his humble stature. 
“Want me to carry you?” He offered, bending his knees and bracing himself for a piggy-back. 
“Well, if you insist.” 
Your friendship with Corey made you stick out like a sore thumb. It didn’t bother you one bit. 
What did bother you was this “thing” going on between the two of you. It was a relatively new feeling, that swarm of butterflies in your stomach when a touch lingered too long. It was something you wanted to embrace so last week you pushed the envelope and pecked him on the check. Quick. Sweet. Innocent. To your surprise, Corey had planted one on you right back. Most likely out of reflex, no doubt an action ingrained into his mind by his toxic matriarch. But when Corey had realized what he’d done, he made a half-assed excuse and rode off on his bicycle. 
Neither of you had mentioned it since and it was eating you up inside. When you had asked him to visit the corn-maze and he’d eagerly agreed you’d thought maybe it wasn’t just one sided. But so far both of you have been too chicken to do anything. 
You were saddling up on auto-pilot when he shook you out of your thoughts by giving your thighs the slightest squeeze, securing you in place. 
Your face flushed. 
“Ready?”
“Green light, Steve McQuee-“ the words barely left your mouth before he broke in stride. But the pace didn’t last long. 
It happened in seconds but you felt like you were falling in slow motion. Your eyes took in the scene before you; a sneakered foot sticking out of the cornfields, the muddy surface below about to hit your face, and the grip Corey had on you trying his damndest to make sure he ate the most shit. 
As the force of your body collided with Corey and the ground, your ears filled with the annoying laughter of pimple popping high school band geeks who thought they were hot shit. You wished people were better than this. 
You climbed off of Corey's back and offered him a hand up. He was caked in dirt, but his hold had saved you from the sensory overload of mud drying on your skin. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, smearing everything in the process. You took the sleeve of your jacket between your fingers to wipe the mud from Corey's now cracked glasses. That'll be the third pair now this year, damn it. You knew Joan was going to give him an earful, but that's an issue for later. Right now, you needed to get these dweebs to scram. 
"Well if it isn't Corey Cunningham!" one of them shouts. "What're you doing here? Scouting for your next victim?" 
Corey stayed silent, looking at the ground. Your eyes pierced daggers into theirs. 
"Why don't you kids pick on somebody from your own age group?" You retort, voice dripping with annoyance. Instinctively you step in front of Corey. 
"What the hell are you going to do about it?"
Your rage gets the best of you and you react before thinking. Your hand is in and out of your pockets in a flash and you procure your butterfly knife, flicking it into place. The colour immediately drains from the teens faces. You figuratively kick yourself as you take in their expressions. You may have overreacted. 
You didn’t typically carry it with you, but lately, with the number of cuts and scrapes you’re cleaning up on Corey, you thought it best to bring something to at least scare people off. And what better than your incredibly niche hobby of knife tricks. Now that you’re in the moment though? It’s not looking like the best idea you’ve ever had. 
"Christ, you're just as psycho as he is!" They all run off back into the fields, likely to continue their parade of mischief. As you hear the crunch of their footsteps begin to fade away, you tuck the blade away and shamefully turn to Corey. You weren't exactly sure what to expect from him, but you didn't think the outcome would be positive. 
Before the apology can leave your mouth, the muddy man of your dreams hugs you and holds you close and for a moment you forget he’s covered in icky mud because he’s got your stomach doing summersaults. With his warm breath on your neck and his nose brushing up against your ear he mumbles a thank you. You want to kiss him and say anytime. 
Corey pulls away, his large hands now firmly on your shoulders and he lets out a half-hearted laugh. 
And that’s when teeth clash and lips bruise. It’s awkward and clumsy and wet but it’s Corey. 
And it’s over as soon as it starts. 
That damn kiss. 
You had a strong feeling that kiss had to be his first but … the way it made you feel like a pine tree going - poof! - up in flames? Let’s give credit where credit is due. 
He ran off immediately after that. Hopped off the bike and sped off. Every text you’ve sent requesting to talk about it and every phone call’s on been screened. After a few days you gave up and took the heartbreak with grace on the outside, while crying yourself to sleep over a stupid boy on the inside. 
You look over to Corey one last time. He's on the floor smiling, looking up to Allyson. 
Making your way home by foot, you cut through the cornfields. 
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amazing-spiderling · 6 months
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F - What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?
N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).
R - Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?
What’s the longest you’ve ever been in a fandom?
Hmm... I guess it depends on how you define "in". I feel like my role in fandom circles has a lot to do with making things (whether it's art or fic or scanning in materials that are hard to fine or whatever) and that can be hard to keep up for years and years (especially if your media of choice doesn't HAVE new stuff to share.)
That being said, I think I'll have to say X-Men? I fell into Marvel comics when I was in, oh, fifth or sixth grade, when a friend I saw in the summers introduced me to her collection. She had a lot of X-Men and Excalibur comics (which were current at the time) and I think she had a subscription to get them mailed to her? I didn't have that kind of money and for a long time my comic collecting was sporadic at best. (This is how I ended up with 3 copies of the 1985 Nightcrawler miniseries in my possession today.)
When the movies started coming out in the early 2000's I was SO hype because my friends were smitten with the various actors and I was just excited that for once, my Pride and Prejudice reading pals gave a hoot about that thing I loved.
I don't make a lot of original content for X-Men, but I still read comics, watch stuff, (share stuff) and engage in fandom discussions. It's been... //checks watch// 28 years since the start, so I guess that'll do.
Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).
I want more manga style Mattfoggy art and I want it *yesterday.* Every time I see a Japanese or Korean artist dabble in it on Twitter or Tumblr I LAVISH them in compliments because I need them to know how much I appreciate it. I love all of the western style art too, but my 90's anime kid heart wants what it wants.
Collaborative works! Maybe I'm a little biased because I love a little co-writing project, but I would love to see more team-ups between fans. Whether that's illustrated stories, co-written fic, art style swaps or whatever. This fandom is full of so many talented people and I'd love to see them working together more often. :3
Cute fanmerch? There's a little bit out there, but not that much. I know DD isn't the new hotness anymore, and artists have to make things they know will sell, but I would love even some print-on-demand designs that weren't just LOGO or SILHOUETTE or whatever.
Which friendship/platonic relationship is your favorite in fandom?
A tricky question for someone who thrives on friends-to-lovers! XD For the sake of this question I assume you mean a platonic relationship that fans explore versus what's canon. In that regard... hmm... While a lot of it can seem really hokey (because people tend to write MCU Peter Parker as even gee-willakers younger than he feels on screen) I think there are many fans who have done more for Team Red than Marvel ever will. Even the silly memey shitposts make me smile, but the comic interactions can be downright toxic. Eesh. I also enjoy it when people write a fun interaction for Jess and Matt, because Defenders didn't give us nearly enough and the fans know what the fans want. :3
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lord-penguin1024 · 9 months
Text
First Love
Oh, where do I start with this tale of ours? A chapter etched in memory, like shooting stars. From the days of old, when we first crossed paths, To the moment we met again, like fate's sweet laugh.
Grade 11, a year that marked our connection, But fragments of before, clouded recollection. You confessed a secret, a crush from afar, Since grade 7, a flame burning like a star.
In buses, we sat close, no empty seats in sight, You saved a place for me, making everything right. Cozy moments and friendship began to grow, Sharing stories of life, a bond we came to know.
I often wondered, why did you confide in me, Your fears and struggles, for all eyes to see? Did you not worry, I'd betray your trust, Reveal your secrets, and turn them to dust?
You claimed no friends would listen to your voice, Only I heard your tales, your pain, your choice. Yet, confusion arose when I saw you, carefree, Surrounded by friends, laughing merrily.
I dared to question, seeking clarity's light, Were those friendships genuine, shining so bright? You reassured me, shared with someone else too, A friend who knew everything, just like I knew.
Time passed swiftly, a year danced away, Our bond grew stronger, day after day. You named me your best friend, though I hesitated, For my circle was small, already dedicated.
A close-knit group, six hearts intertwined, You were not among them, love undefined. Even as we dated, that truth remained, Yet we carried on, the connection unstrained.
In December, an unexpected request arose, You asked me to date you, caught me off guard, I suppose. Thinking it a joke, I shook your hand in jest, Little did I know, you meant it with your heart's zest.
News spread like wildfire, both far and near, We shouted it aloud, our story loud and clear. I wanted to share, to amplify the fun we had, But you asked me to keep it close, like something mad.
We embarked on our journey, love in the air, Late-night chats and laughter, a tender affair. I began to feel for you, slowly but surely, Your flaws and insecurities made you more than worthy.
Yet, somewhere in the chaos, doubt started to creep, The meaning of love, a secret I couldn't keep. I didn't love you as deeply as you loved me, An imbalance so stark, it was hard to ignore, you see.
I tried to nurture love, to make it bloom, To match your affection, to escape impending doom. But reality struck, and I knew it was time, To admit the truth, the love I couldn't find.
So, I confided in a friend, who warned of our divide, I asked him to drop hints, to let truth coincide. You began to question, seeking love's validation, And with each passing day, my heart sank in hesitation.
Days turned to weeks, and the doubts grew strong, Until I couldn't bear it, the deceitful charade for long. I became the villain, the one who wished to part, Telling you that love had waned, breaking your fragile heart.
You cried, I vaguely remember the tears on your face, Now even that memory fades, leaving no trace. I gave you reasons to hate me, to despise my name, And it worked, as intended, fueling anger's flame.
For everyone you knew, I became the villainous one, A reputation tarnished, a battle seemingly won. But I didn't mind the judgments, the critical stares, For I was accustomed to them, weathering life's despairs.
I guided you toward anger, away from our past, Crafting toxicity, a facade meant to last. As I reflect upon this chapter, with mixed emotions through, I acknowledge the story of us, both me and you.
It was flawed, it was painful, and it had its despair, But it shaped who we are, teaching lessons rare. May we find solace in the memories we share, And grow from the ashes, knowing life is unfair.
Farewell, old flame, though I can't say I care, It's up to you to reach heavens or knock on the devil's lair. For it was a chapter in our lives, accumulating dust, Now closed, as we move on, in each other's trust.
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duuhrayliegh · 3 years
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my hero - request
request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder
pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader
warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?
a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!
p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!
xoxo ray
check out my m.list
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You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.
You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.
His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.
Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.
Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.
...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.
A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.
“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.
“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.
“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.
“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.
“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.
“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.
“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.
“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.
“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.
“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.
“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.
“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.
“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.
“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.
“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.
“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.
*********************
You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.
What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”
“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”
“shailene and seb supremacy”
“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”
Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.
Your heart dropped.
There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.
“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.
“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.
“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.
“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.
Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.
It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.
You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.
“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.
“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.
The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.
“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.
“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.
“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.
“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.
Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.
“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.
“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.
“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.
“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.
“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.
“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.
“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.
“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.
“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.
“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.
“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.
“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.
“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.
“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.
This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.
“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.
“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.
“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.
“I love you, Sebastian.”
“And I love you, Y/N.”
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kohanayaki · 3 years
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.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 4
Snape looks back on your days at Hogwarts, how your friendship came to be, and how it came to end.
LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4  CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8
___________________________________________________________
Ch 4  .:Budding Feelings and the Beginning of the End:.
Severus Snape had made a lot of mistakes in his life, and seeing you again after all these years was forcing him to relive every single one of them.
He stared blankly at the wall in front of him, shrouded in the darkness and grim silence of his empty house. He never thought he'd see you again, and certainly not under these circumstances. When he'd laid his eyes on you in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place he couldn't believe it. He, much like the rest of the Order (except for Molly, apparently) assumed you wouldn't be at these meetings any longer. After James and Lily were murdered and Sirius was thrown into Azkaban, you'd left London and headed to New York under the Ministry's alliance with MACUSA, hoping to help bridge the gap between muggle-borns and purebloods in America. He knew you had been back to meet Harry a handful of times, but he also knew that being in this city brought up painful memories for you, so he was as stunned as anyone else to see you standing there in the doorway, greeting them as if nothing were out of the ordinary.
He could see that traveling had been good for you. He'd heard through the Hogwarts circuit that you were back on auror duty across the world, taking special assignments from Dumbledore and the Minister for Magic himself. You seemed like you were doing better, but when you turned to smile at him he could see the hesitation and the sadness that brewed behind your eyes, likely his doing.
He desperately wanted things to go back to what they were before—
Before he'd ruined it. . .
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Alright students,” Professor Slughorn said as everyone finished filing inside the room, “today we're going to be pairing off into new partners for the upcoming project.”
Groans and nervous chatter flooded the sound space immediately, no one very thrilled with having to work with someone new out of their control. You cast a glance over to Lily who looked equally displeased. You liked being her partner, you both excelled at the subject and worked really well together.
“Yes, yes, I know,” Slughorn said, waving the complaints off, “However, I am going to be giving you the luxury of choosing your own partners this time, but everyone—”
The energy in the room instantly shifted, everyone shoving around people to get to their friends.
“—keep in mind, if I see any slacking off or trouble brewing in these new partnerships I will not hesitate to rearrange them!”
Slughorns's words were completely lost among the commotion as people paired off before you could even get your bearings. Snape stalled as he stared at you from across the room; Lily had already been dragged away by Mary, and his brain was trying to work out how to ask you to be his partner.
Suddenly an arm was slung over your shoulder and you turned towards the new presence in surprise. You looked up to see Evan Rosier, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his Slytherin tie loose around his neck.
Oh, sod it, Snape cursed internally. He was too late.
“Wanna partner up?” Rosier asked, a crooked grin gracing his chiseled features, “It'd be my honor to have the smartest Potions partner in class, not to mention the most attractive.”
You rolled your eyes at the praise. Evan was your friend, and he was nice to look at, but if he thought that you would be willing to do all the work for the both of you in exchange for some cheap compliments, then he had another thing coming. You locked eyes with Snape from across the room
“It would be your honor,” you smirked up at Rosier, “but I already have a partner, sorry.”
It took Snape a few seconds to realize what you were doing, but once he snapped out of it he made his way towards you. You almost chuckled at how robotic he looked as he did, clearly shocked.
Rosier looked between the two of you and rolled his eyes.
“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” he said, letting you go and pushing you lightly in Snape's direction, “but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He sent a wink your way that left Snape's blood inexplicably boiling,
“Thanks for that,” you grinned, “and just so you know, I would have chosen you even if he didn't come up to me, so don't get all pouty about it, okay?”
Severus just looked at you blankly. Even after four years it was frightening how well you were able to read him; for a moment he was scared that he'd accidentally projected his thoughts to you, but he wasn't anywhere near that level of legillemency yet. He wanted to say something that had some semblance of gratitude but settled on:
“Whatever.”
To which you just laughed and dragged him to your now shared desk.
You really were something else.
“Now then,” Professor Slughorn addressed the room, “today we will be beginning the new unit on toxic concoctions, starting with the Draught of Living Death. If you would all turn to page ten of your books, we will get started presently.”
You turned open your book and Severus did the same. As he did, you noticed that nearly every page was covered in small notes littering the margins, with some of the instructions circled, crossed out, or modified. You were hardly surprised, Snape had been pouring over this book since last year when he'd stolen it from a fifth year Slytherin who'd been speaking poorly of you (that last part you were unaware of).
You turned your attention to the directions, reaching over to preheat the burner so your cauldron would be hot enough by the time you began. However, as soon as you lit the flame with the tip of your wand, your cauldron shot up into the air, hitting the ceiling with a loud BANG! before crashing down back onto your table, breaking several of the glass instruments that were settled there.
Your face burned embarrassment as everyone in the room turned to look at you in shock.
“Snape, (L/n),” Slughorn said, surprised, “whatever happened?”
“I. . .” you began, not knowing what to say, “I don't know, I'm sorry, Professor.”
“Quite all right,” he said uncertainly, restoring your table and equipment with a wave of his wand, “just be sure whatever that was doesn't happen again.”
“Of course,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the snickering around you. If you noticed the way that it stopped as soon as Snape sent a deathly glare at the culprits, you didn't show it. You reached down to grab your cauldron, noticing that the bottom was dusted in some sort of orange powder. As you turned it over, a note fell out of it.
You're welcome, (L/n). Sorry I couldn't be there for the fireworks~
J.P.
“That sneaky little, ugh,” you crumpled the note, growling in frustration.
“What is it?” Severus asked, peering over your shoulder to glance at the paper. However, as soon as you tried to show it to him it vanished in your hands in a wisp of glowing embers. You turned to look at Severus who was still staring at you expectantly.
“It was Potter,” you rolled your eyes.
Anger flashed in Severus' eyes before confusion replaced it momentarily.
“But that was your cauldron, not mine. Why would Potter want to mess with you?”
And now the anger was back again. Snape was used to Potter’s crew targeting him; bullying and suffering through minor hexes had become an everyday occurrence, but when he imagined them doing anything to you it was enough to make him see red.
“Ah, well. . .” you trailed off, deciding that telling him you'd yelled at the group of Gryffindors: 'if you jerks want to have a go at Severus you're gonna have to get through me first!' was a bad idea.
“I sort of, maybe, kind of. . . started it?” you said. Severus raised a brow at you. “Look, Potter was asking for it, okay? It was about time someone messed with him for a change. And besides, it was hilarious, even Lily got a kick out of watching that broom hit him in the head.”
Severus chuckled at that, a hint of pride welling in his chest at yours and Lily's shared distaste for the Potter boy.
“But that was the last straw,” you declared, grabbing a Sopophorus bean from the bowl in front of you and a knife to cut it as per the instructions, “I'm sick and tired of him acting like he's better than everyone else,” you said, stabbing down with your knife for emphasis. The Sopophorus bean jumped as you did, sliding out from under your blade and skidding across your cutting board. You huffed as you grabbed it again, placing it back down and holding it in place. “And he walks around with that little posse of his like he runs this school!” You brought your knife down again, moving your fingers at the last second, but the bean still managed to slip away, trying to bounce back into the bowl.
“This means war!” you seethed, grabbing the runaway legume again, now at your wit's end, and crushing it in your fist. It stopped jumping as the beet-red juice of the plant dripped down your arm, and Severus looked at you with a small smirk on his face.
“Well, that's one way to do it,” he said.
“Shove off,” you said playfully, throwing the bean in his direction. He dodged it easily, his smile growing.
“No, really,” he said, almost more to himself than you as he scribbled out the word 'cut' and replaced it with 'crush' in his notebook, “you might be better at this than you let on.”
You blushed at the unexpected compliment, backhanded as it was.
“Excuse you, I happen to be fantastic at Potions,” you said, grabbing another bean and avoiding his gaze.
“Right, that's why your cauldron exploded.”
“That was sabotage,” you shot back.
“I was talking about last week,” Severus said cheekily, taking in your flustered expression.
You both went back to your ingredients, eventually discovering that crushing the beans with the flat of a knife was the best way to extract the juice without them jumping. You watched Severus out of the corner of your eye as he measured out the African Sea water, adding it gradually as he stirred the mixture counter-clockwise. The elixir turned a bright blue color, shimmering as if light were being reflected off of it. He continued on with the formula, snapping off a few fluxweed sprigs before adding them and lowering the heat with his wand, hardly looking at the instructions at all.
You wondered where this newfound confidence had come from. Severus was usually so rigid and withdrawn, but right now he looked more at ease than you had ever seen him. A spark was present in his eyes as he worked that you rarely ever saw, and it made you smile despite yourself.
The rest of your potion making process went on without a hitch, and you silently applauded yourself as you watched the other students around you struggle to get their concoctions together. Even Lily seemed to be having trouble, though Mary wasn't really helping other than offering moral support.
You turned back to focus on your own potion, stirring it with the ladle and mesmerized by the way it began to turn a deep plum color. Meanwhile, Severus was cleaning up your shared station, looking over at the brew. His brows furrowed as he examined it.
“Just stir it a bit more,” he said, coming up behind you and placing his hand on top of yours, “the color is still off.”
Your face burned at the unexpected contact; Snape certainly wasn't a touchy person, so the act caught you completely off guard, though you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Severus nearly jumped backwards, absolutely mortified when he realized what he was doing. It was him micromanaging more than anything; he was so focused on getting the potion right he didn't even notice he was moving his own body as he gave you the instruction.
“Sorry,” he said, feeling quite possibly the lamest he'd ever felt in his life.
“It's okay,” you said, biting the inside of your lip nervously and continuing to stir like he said. Your light response allowed Snape to relax, his shoulders lowering a full three inches. He'd been certain you would have reacted to his mistake with disgust or repulsion, but you didn't. What did that mean? You were utterly confusing. Despite how well you could read him, Severus was unable to get a read on you at all. If he had been, he would have noticed the tiny smile on your face as you stirred, silently wishing his hand were back on yours.
You and Snape stood at attention as Slughorn peered down at your potion, looking mildly impressed. He reached into his robes, procuring an oak leaf from who knows where, and dropped it into your cauldron. The leaf floated on top of the liquid for just a moment before its edges began to burn. It furled from the unseen heat, folding in on itself and disappearing into the inky depths of the liquid. Slughorn's expression lit up, his impression no longer mild.
“Merlin's beard, it's perfect!” he exclaimed, “in all my years I've never seen a pair recreate this potion exactly as you two have done today.”
You beamed at the praise, your smile only widening as you saw your emotions mirrored in Severus' face, albeit more subtly.
Over the course of your fourth year, you and Snape continued to excel in Potions, receiving much praise from Professor Slughorn and a lot of glares from your fellow students. However, there was something else that continued that year, and that was your increasing interactions with James Potter.
“I just don't get why you even bother with him,” Snape had said to you one day while you were in Potions. Your prank war with James was at its peak, and you were sidetracked that day in class coming up with new ideas to get back at him.
“It's a full on battle now, Sev,” you said, “I can't back down! Now, for my next one I was thinking something along the lines of a callback to one of his earlier stunts. Maybe get him back for tampering with my cauldron at the beginning the year.”
“(Y/n)—”
“I've got a few friends in Gryffindor, and apparently he talks about his prank plans way too loudly in the common room, so I have a head start on this one. They mentioned something about my shampoo—“
“(Y/n),” Severus stressed, finally catching your attention. You looked up at him, embarrassed at you rambling. “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, “he's just baiting you. You know that.”
“It keeps them from doing anything that targets you, right?” you questioned back.
Severus didn't know what to say at that. It was true, ever since you had declared war on James, he and his stupid friends hadn't really bothered with him at all. Were you doing this for him? He didn't know what to do with the thought.
You were, of course, but you thought it better not to mention that in the last few months this had been going on, you'd also begun to find the rivalry and banter between you and James fun.
“Gather 'round students, gather 'round!” Slughorn beckoned the class over, disrupting your train of thought and putting an end to your conversation, “now, would anyone like to identify the potion in this cauldron here?” He gestured to a shockingly pink liquid that seemed to swirl on its own. Plum and periwinkle smoke wafted through the air above it in delicate spirals.
“That's Amortentia,” Lily said, “it's a love potion that's supposed to smell different to everyone depending on what scents attract them.”
“Right you are, Miss Evans,” Slughorn said proudly, “would you like to tell us what you smell?”
“Cinnamon,” she started slowly, “warm spices, butterbeer, sandalwood. . .” her cheeks reddened significantly, as if she'd made some sort of realization. “Th-that's all.” You stared at her quizzically but she just shook her head. You'd have to ask her about this later. . .
“(L/n),” Slughorn said, “would you be so kind as to do the same?”
“Sure,” you said, stepping up to the cauldron. It was captivating, almost drawing you in physically. “Wild lavender,” you said, smiling, your mother had a garden full of them when you were growing up, “rain when it hits the pavement, and old leather books.” Scents you wouldn't realize until much later all correlated with a certain person.
“Very different scents for very different people,” Professor Slughorn said, “thank you for demonstrating, you two. Now, we will not be brewing this potion today for obvious reasons. It is incredibly dangerous, capable of creating not true love, but unhinged obsession. What we will be doing, however, is studying its effects. . .”
“Strongest love potion in the world, huh?” Evan suddenly appeared at your side, “funny, I could have sworn it smelled just like you, although you wouldn't need a potion to reign me in~”
“Put a sock in it, Rosier,” you said, shoving him away playfully.
“Aw, come on, just one date wouldn't hurt,” he said, “I'm pulling out all my best lines here!”
“That's the best you've got?”
“Ouch.”
Snape couldn't help but glare at the Slytherin boy, not liking how close he was to you. Nice as he seemed, Snape knew how he could really be. He didn't think you'd be such good friends with Rosier if you knew he was knee deep in the dark arts as soon as the sun set on the castle. Then again, Severus wasn't one to talk.
Over the course of the year he noticed that you only grew closer to James, something that bothered him immensely. He was grateful that you had gotten his bullying to stop, but he hated that the way you had gone about it was to turn Potter into a friend. . .
“Merlin, he keeps looking over at you, Lils,” you said.
Lily and Severus looked over to where James sat with Sirius, Remus, and Peter in their corner table as usual. Somehow they always managed to be at The Three Broomsticks at the exact same time as your trio, almost as if they knew you were there. James Potter was, in fact, looking towards your table, until your friends not-so-discreetly turned to look at him and he diverted his gaze elsewhere.
“Idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your butterbeer.
Lily looked between you and James' table for a moment before turning back to you.
“Actually, (Y/n), he's staring at you.”
You looked at her like she'd grown a second head but then began to laugh.
“Is he? Jeeze, what a creep,” you said, but with affection in your voice that wasn't missed by Severus, “it's probably because I saved his ass the other day and he's still reeling from it.”
“Oh,” she said, a hint of what you swore was relief in her tone until she realized what you said, “Wait, you what?”
“Sirius and I were talking in the forest and we got ambushed by Malfoy's motley crew,” you said, “and Potter showed up because of course he did. It was just a little duel, no big deal.”
“What?!” Lily said, concern written all over her face, “they fancy the dark arts, (Y/n), you could have been hurt!”
Severus stared into his drink, unable to look at either of you.
“I'm fine, Lils,” you insisted, “and trust me, I don't think Malfoy's going to be bothering anyone anymore. Just show him a picture of a squid and he'll probably screech like a banshee.”
Lily laughed along with you, partially in confusion, until the first part of your statement hit her with a slight delay.
“Hold on, you were in the forest with Black? And did you just call him Sirius?” she asked, her teasing making your face flush.
“We just. . . figured some stuff out. . . It was nothing like what you're thinking, so drop it,” you grumbled, taking another drink to hide your embarrassed face.
“Whatever you say, (Y/n),” Lily sang, taking a sip of her own drink.
Severus felt jealousy bubble up in him like a disease. He cast his gaze upwards, his eyes locking momentarily with James'. His arch rival rose a cocky brow at him, his gaze unmistakably shifting to you and Lily before staring Snape down again. Severus took a sharp breath to steel himself, that feeling in the pit of his stomach never really going away.
That was the beginning of the end.
Read chapter 5 here!
Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy
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ladyfallonavenger · 3 years
Text
My Princess, My Prince
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Words: 1381
Warnings: Fluff, some mentions of past angst, past abuse, past torture and past toxic relationship, fluff, nervousness about starting a relationship and being intimate, general sweetness oh and did I mention fluff?
This isn't beta read. All mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading. Please feel free to like, reblog and/or comment. I always appreciate interaction and feedback with anyone taking time to read my work.
Prompt: I was listening to At the Beginning by Donna Lewis and Richard Marx (from the soundtrack of the animated classic Anastasia).
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She sat against the old oak tree in the field, the shade protecting her from the glaring sun. Headphones on, she was listening to Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade on repeat (a habit of hers) and pulled out her small sketchpad. She hadn’t noticed Bucky walking towards her from her immediate left as she was focusing on the wild flowers in front of her. It was only when his shadow began to loom did she realise. Greeting him with a smile, she took her headphones off, switched her music off and gave him a welcoming smile as he sat with her. "I figured you'd be hiding out here instead of in the compound" he spoke, his eyes locked on hers. "It's more peaceful, plus if I stay out here, I'm not going to be asked to work on my fortnight break" she chuckled. "But it's only day one" Bucky pointed out highlighting the problem with Y/N’s plan. Y/N nodded, sucking in her lips. She needed a rethink. Bucky emptied the little paper bag he'd been carrying, it was filled with daisies. Y/N observed, feeling a little confused until he started linking them with careful precision. "You make daisy chains?" Y/N asked impressed. "Yeah, and flower crowns too. I used to do it with Mom and Rebecca when bored. It's something so simple that I've remembered but it makes me really happy. Not that I'd tell Steve or the others. Steve always ribbed me for it when I was younger. Stark would have a barrage with this" he explained, not once taking his eyes off of the growing daisy chain. "Well I think you are amazing, it looks quite fiddly" she said, eyes on the consistently growing chain. His lips curled into a soft smile that made Y/N feel weak at the knees. She'd liked Bucky since she'd joined as an administrator and general compound organiser for Tony. Basically it was almost housekeeping but Tony didn't like the trivial sound given the nature of the environment. Plus housekeepers didn't get the salary and perks Y/N did. When she had her first week there Bucky was grounded from any missions while undergoing initial therapy and reintegration into society. He'd get so flustered with some of the tasks. He'd leave the paperwork from them laying around. Y/N picked them up and then organised them into a binder for him and left it for him outside his room with a note to explain that the information he gets from these sessions are confidential and she didn’t want others to make him feel uncomfortable (namely Tony). He appreciated her sentiment and brought her coffee and muffins the following day. That's how the friendship sparked off. She encouraged him to continue his therapy and helped him with the tasks he'd been given. They were often found together and teased about being inseparable. Bucky had developed deeper feelings for Y/N because she was comfortable letting him be himself. There was no pressure on him to change and become acclimatised quickly. She was patient, gave him space, let him be grumpy and hugged him when he needed it. She would comfort him through his tears and stayed next to him when he'd had nightmares. But throughout it she never made him feel like he was obligated to her and he loved her all the more for it. He'd learnt a lot from Y/N and, in return, he'd teach her things too. He noticed how Y/N was avidly watching him build the daisy chain and patted the space between his legs. She got up and sat between his legs as directed. He leaned into her, resting his chin on her shoulder and talked her through how to link the daisies. He guided her hands until she got the hang of it. Excitedly, she started making her own one and Bucky watched her with fascination as he turned his into a crown. Y/N fast caught up and turned hers into a crown too. She held it up with pride. "You're a fast learner" he complimented. "I had a great teacher" she blushed. Bucky held his crown up and placed it on Y/N’s head. She looked down nervously but he cupped her chin and lifted his hand slightly for her to face him. "A crown for my beautiful princess" he grinned. Y/N placed the crown she made on his head. "A crown for my handsome prince" she uttered
nervously. "Would her majesty like to dance with me?" Bucky stood up extending his hand to her. "What shall we dance to?" Y/N replied, taking his hand and standing. He kissed her hand and indicated to her phone and whatever she'd been listening too. Y/N couldn't help the smile that crossed her face as she put the speaker on and started up Moonlight Serenade. For the first time ever, she saw a smile meet his eyes and it was like watching the sun rise. "A favourite of mine" he informed. "Me too" she answered stepping closer, allowing him to circle his arms around her waist as she looped hers over his neck. He pulled her as close as physically possible. They moved in synchronisation with the music, their gazes locked on each other. For him this was the closest he'd been to a woman since 1943. This was also the first time he felt it meant something. Time seemed to slow and the rest of the world around them blurred as they only had eyes for each other. "Y/N, when I called you my princess, I... I meant it. I'm in love with you printessa" he confessed nervously. She could feel him trembling. She understood the courage it took and it endeared him to her all the more. "Well, that's good because I just so happen to be in love with my crown prince. He's charming, funny, respectful and looks so bad ass on a motorbike" she smiled. "Should I tell Steve you're in love with him then" he joked. She play slapped his shoulder. "Don't you dare you dork" she chuckled as he pulled her closer. Looking at her lips, he lick his lips then back up at her. "Y/N, this may be old fashioned but I would like to kiss you, if that's ok?" he questioned going bashful as his cheeks tinged pink. "It's more than ok" she barely whispered stunned by his request. He leaned in and his lips met hers, cautiously at first, but relaxing into it as Y/N returned the kiss allowing it to deepen. As their lip lock slowly broke for them to catch their breath, the couple beamed at each other. "I'm a bit rusty, I haven't really been intimate with anyone in such a long time" he divulged. "Rusty? Are you sure? I've never felt so wanted in a kiss. My last relationship was a nightmare, toxic and abusive. So we can take this as slow as you need and explore all different ways to be intimate that you feel ok with. I love you Bucky and I'm happy to move this at whatever pace you want ok" she assured stroking his cheek. She heard him sigh with relief. It wasn’t that he didn't want a sexual relationship but he needed to work towards it and deal with conflicting response to the torture he endured at the hands of Hydra. He kissed Y/N again feeling blessed to have her finally. "Doll, how do you feel about escaping to a cabin that Steve owns for the rest of your vacation? It's got a wonderful view of a stream. We could just spend the time being together away from prying eyes" he suggested. Y/N nodded eagerly and Bucky told her to go and pack while he spoke to Steve. A couple of hours later and still wearing their flower crowns (amid the teasing from others at the compound once they realised what was going on) they got into the SUV and were on their way to Steve’s. Embarking on a new journey together, they held hands knowing it wouldn't be all hearts and flowers or happily ever after because life isn't a fairytale, but they were ready for the ups and downs that they would face knowing they could do it as long as the prince had his princess.
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