#please be kind to each other and give each other space
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pred who is kind of like standoff-ish, you catch them looking at you, then looking away when you notice
eventually you bump into each other. they stammer, apologising. now that you're up close, you can actually hear their stomach growling. even from under their jacket.
they say sorry about that too. You ask if they're hungry, they skirt around saying yes. But you can see a fierce hunger in them that is barely being suppressed
Without thinking, you offer yourself up to them, but before you can retract the offer, you see a quick expression of the most genuine gratefulness you've seen on a person's face before - it makes you want to go through with it.
It turns out the pred isn't one to waste time, because in a moment you're in their throat, and the next you're tucked away in their stomach.
You hardly knew this person at all, and now you were now closer to them than you have been to anyone else in your life. You had freely given your entire body to them as food. And they were basically a stranger
they probably wouldn't let you out if you asked. You can feel their hands rubbing over the stomach now and then, cherishing it and savouring you, the meal. They seemed pleased with the situation, and it could be hard to get a predator to give up their catch, especially from your position.
You kicked, experimentally, just to see if you had any chance of escaping on your own. You felt a gentle but strong pressure from all sides as the stomach clenched autonomously. the pred gripped onto their belly protectively. Was that the answer? No, you are staying inside? Or maybe it was just a reaction, without any added meaning.
You didn't think that there was much of a chance they'd hear you if you spoke. It was loud inside the stomach - you could hear organs grumbling underneath you, a quick and warm heartbeat above, and you heard their breath, as each inhale squished your body as the stomach and lungs fought for space.
They wouldn't have to compete for long; you were going to be digested. That is why you offered in the first place, because your pred was hungry. But you fed them, that was something at least. You could be content with the fact that you helped someone out, by giving them a filling meal
#v/ore#tw vore#digestion#fatal vore#vore fic#implied digestion#soft vore#vore writing#v.ore#vore digestion#voreblr
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We need to remember that Shubble stated that Wilbur would manipulate and gaslight friends and family. With this, we must be patient with streamers that were close to Wilbur. This was likely surprising and shocking for them. They may need time to come to terms with what has happened.
I have been vocal about how important it is for men to be critical about abusive behaviors. However, Wilbur had many close friends—some would even consider him family—and now they may feel they hardly knew him at all.
There is a deep stress felt by viewers. It is difficult to think we have given any amount of time or money to an abuser. Could you imagine a close friend right now? The pain and betrayal must sear. They need time to understand what has happened and come to terms with it. Many of them may not be live in the coming days (weeks even).
That being said, as time passes, criticism may be necessary. Complacency is not an option. Men that are willing to ignore abuse to protect an abuser are just as pathetic as the abusers themselves.
Let's give this situation time to breathe. I ask that we give patience and courtesy to those close to Wilbur at this time. But please do not forget that this happened. There may be a few streamers hoping to lay low and then drop a collab in a few months. Do not let them. This is too important.
#for now#the best thing we can do is spread awareness about abuse and offer support to domestic violence victims#i also want to add#that any previous art made about him was made with pure intentions#obviously its up to each individual to decide where the line is#but maybe lets not support him monetarily moving forward#that seems to be the move#anyway#please be kind to each other and give each other space#especially domestic violence survivors that may be here with us#and those who may have realized they were/are abused from shubbles story#i want to offer her and everyone around as much support as i can#if any domestic violence survivers have any stories they want to share#my dms and askbox are open#if anyone suspects that someone in their life may be abusing someone#this offer is open to you too#we need to talk about this#thoughts of dante#wilbur soot#shubble#im tagging this under shubble even though the post isnt really about her but i want the tags of this post to reach#whoever needs to read them
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A Biracial Reading of OFMD, ft. Iggy’s Revenge Izcourse
a.k.a. I typed out a sentence that turned into an accidental essay of meta, whoops!
Y’all…I love this fandom to pieces, but I don’t think some of you realize why not all of us love Izzy/may be critiquing him. And major disclaimer—I am in NO WAY telling anyone to stop enjoying him as a character. This is NOT an anti-Izzy post (I will go into more detail on why I in fact encourage you to keep doing so later, and to the people who are sending unsolicited hate mail to Izzy fans & haters alike: please don’t!)—I’m just tired of seeing vitriolic hate against the people writing about him as an antagonist, or critiquing his actions based on canon, or post after post of “why don’t people love Izzy like I do!!” and then aggression when people explain their honest opinions. Look: we all have our skrungly little bad guys. I get it!! I’ve got my own collection!! I too have become a consumer and enjoyer of the Izzy fanon!!! PLEASE don’t take this as an attack—I just want to provide some personal, potentially fresh context from at least one (obviously non-exhaustive) perspective for those who want to know why Izzy isn’t universally adored, and also to make a plea for a safer fandom space where we can talk about our perspectives on these fictional characters without escalating to unnecessary vitriol, especially as s2 be upon ye (bc holy shit fandom is supposed to be fun, we’re having fun and that’s an order 😤)
(Oh, and I know I’m potentially stirring the pot with this post, but this should go without saying: don’t send each other death threats. What the fuck. Nobody do this?!)
So now that the legalize is out of the way: I want to share that the reason I initially imprinted on this show—and on Ed specifically—was because I’d never seen an explicitly biracial character treated with such complexity, nuance, and grace. While our ethnic makeups are vastly different, I too am half-white & half-brown—which means we’re absolutely nothing culturally alike, but our worlds view and treat us as pretty much the same regardless. And like Ed, my dad resents my mom and my racial makeup, and is prone to what I like to call “white violence.” Not going to overshare on the internet, but let’s just say that all this compounded makes Ed feel highly relatable to me (although for legal purposes I promise I have not krakened my dad 🙃).
When I first watched the show (and honestly also until my 3rd or 4th rewatch), Izzy IMMEDIATELY made me think of my dad. He also immediately made me think of Ed’s dad. Their mannerisms, word choices, and tones of voice; the obsessive need for control; the default of violence; the gradual dehumanization until an ultimate kraken-ifying breaking point—it all read to me like an intentional parallel. A shadow of white violence following Ed around that he hasn’t been able to shake, and mirroring to him the things he fears the most, including the things he fears within himself and feels forced to become (he is half-white after all, and this is a whole other post, but tl;dr there can be a lot of baggage that comes with being half-white/half-poc in regards to grappling with your toxic relationship to that white side of yourself, and especially if your white parent was racist and/or violent). And you can claim a different reading of all of this if you want (I genuinely mean that, like I’m in favor of meta & I think it’s great to analyze these things) BUT. that does not change the fact that I felt what I felt as a result of what was portrayed on screen and combined with my lived experience. Because fictional characters are just that—fictional—and are vessels by which you can process the world; we will always bring our personal lived experiences to anything we consume, and that’s okay—that can be the point, even. Art imitates life imitates art. Interpretation is the name of the game!
(more under the cut)
So when I watch this show, it’s a helpful tool for me to process my own feelings of being victimized by the white violence that’s followed me around my whole life, as well as the ways in which I’ve rebelled against it/tried to make peace with a non-toxic version of whiteness (in parallel to the more overt theme of masculinity, which is—ding ding—inexplicably tied to whiteness and western colonialism) via chaos, love, hurt, and sometimes giving up and giving in—and in this process, Izzy is a safe target. And you know why that is? Because he’s FICTIONAL. I can feel rage towards him because he’s NOT REAL. I can better understand and process the pain I’ve felt and rarely seen societally acknowledged by watching it paralleled on screen via actors and writers who have likely also grappled with similar feelings (I mean, I genuinely have made more progress with my personal biracial trauma via this show vs. years of therapy), and if I want to assume the worst of Izzy based on my interpretation of canon to help me through this? That’s fine! Because I can’t hurt his feelings and he can’t hurt mine!! Because he’s not real!!!
And here’s why I still support the Izzy-enjoyment: I am sure that many of the people who love Izzy and defend him to the ends of the earth probably feel a similar way that I do about Ed. It’s why we get all riled up and protective of these characters, why we might take attacks on them as attacks on ourselves; recognition of the self in the form of the other, and all that. Izzy is a vessel by which to safely work through the dark feelings and the pain you’ve bottled up—and he’s a safe way to do that because he’s FICTIONAL. And that’s a beautiful thing imo!! That’s truly the beauty of art—it is what we make of it, and what we make of it helps make ourselves better. It’s good to be open to interpretation.
HOWEVER: that does not give you permission to discount my relationship to this show (as I will not discount yours), and more importantly: that does NOT give you permission to reject the notion that canonically in s1, Izzy is literally and thematically (emphasis on thematically) an antagonist who is purposefully written to cause harm that can be interpreted as a hate crime, especially to those with lived experience of homophobia/racism/ableism/bullying/etc.—and you cannot harass people about this when conversing about theories of canon. If someone sees Izzy’s dialogue as cutting, degrading, and even triggering, that’s extremely fair of them to do so—clearly Ed was written to feel it that way! Con himself has paralleled Izzy with Judas! And can interpret it all differently? Sure! But you CANNOT assume that everyone else will, and then get upset when people don’t. I can’t believe I need to spell this out about an angry white guy in a show about toxic masculinity, but if someone does not like Izzy, it is likely due to a personal history of harassment (or worse) that he is reminiscent of; by making a point to defend him to someone—even if you are well-intentioned—you are very much putting salt in a wound.
I want to take this opportunity to further emphasize some tenets of fandom in general:
you can like characters who do horrible things without needing to jump hoops to argue their morals as pure 👏
conversely, you can critique their actions and still like them (encouraged, even) 👏
you can like characters who do horrible things simply because they’re cool and hot and interesting—don’t worry, we know it’s not the same as liking people like them irl 👏
your liking a villain archetype says nothing about your own moral virtue 👏
you can like horrible characters and see reasons for why they are the way they are/view them as tragic/note sympathetic dimensions of their personality/root for them to have redemption arcs while acknowledging that said redemption arc may not have happened in canon yet and that these are implicit, not explicit, readings of canon 👏
and you can also reimagine canon and change their contexts in fan works so that they ARE morally virtuous 👏 but PLEASE just be mindful and accountable when you do this in a context where not everyone will see a character the same way as you, and where multiple of people of marginalized identities have spoken out about the harm not doing so can cause. Just be honest, sincere, and kind, listen and learn, and don’t harass people for understandably needing space from a character that symbolizes something different to them than it does to you.
Also: blocking tags or people just because they have character opinions different than yours is totally okay and does not mean anything other than “I am curating my online space to have a better time,” it’s NOT personal
And most importantly: FANDOM IS FOR FUN! This isn’t our day job! We come to fandom to decompress. Don’t ruin people’s safe spaces!!!
Like I said, I’ve grown to enjoy Izzy over time thanks to fandom and fanon, and I think it’s fantastic that fandom can have such diversity in the way it interprets canon. I can’t wait for his probable redemption arc (it will likely be a healing thing to witness for many of us) and I’m truly glad that we can all have different relationships to the same characters. But please—when some of us need Izzy to be a punching bag, just let him be a punching bag. No, it’s not homophobic and DEFINTELY not misogynistic to view him as an obstacle in Ed and Stede’s relationship (baffled by the amount of times I’ve seen this take—it’s a funny joke but if you actually think Izzy is treated the way female characters related to other mlm ships have been treated, the point is very much going whoosh). You don’t have to engage; it’s not personal. It’s not about YOUR relationship with him—it’s about MINE. Please let me feel and even discuss rage towards him when I think about episode 10. Please let me throw as many sandwiches at his head as I need to. Because I PROMISE, it won’t hurt him—because he, and none of these characters, are real; and yet we, the fans, very much are.
#woof#did I add enough disclaimers?#this was longer than intended so if you read all the way through I’m giving you a kiss#I wasn’t going to engage but I keep seeing vitriol in the tag when all I want to do is decompress and I just…#I just came here to see gay ppl kiss sir this is a Wendy’s#fandom should be a safe space and I hate getting an ick from tumblr when it’s what I’m trying to use to escape the bad shit#life is hard enough lmao#anyway#please be kind to each other#I could go into the whole other topic of what the trauma of Covid did to our virtual affect and interpersonal skills but#alas that’s a thesis within itself#and on that note I have my actual thesis to work on so i won’t be closely monitoring this post just needed to get this all off my chest#and for what it’s worth I’ve been trying to avoid s2 spoilers so I haven’t seen the Izzy clip yet but that’s honestly irrelevant to this#bc this is in relation to s1 and I hope we can all just have a good time again this season#ofmd#our flag means death#the izcourse#ofmd meta#trauma#racism
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Bad Boys Don't Buy Flowers
CEO!BuckyBarnes x Female!Florist!Reader AU
read Steve's story here
summary: Bucky would have never thought, he’d be chasing after a girl. Not when all of them usually fell at his feet. But when he finds himself entangled in a deal born out of a desperate argument with his assistant, he realizes there is nothing he wouldn't do for you: The independent florist who is adamantly dragging him to the homeless shelter every chance she gets. There is just one problem: Bucky doesn't know how to tell you. And the teasing from his friends is certainly not making things easier for him...
a/n: I should be working instead of writing long ass billionaire love stores, but here we are: you and me both... happy it happened and already regretting the tasks we neglected because of it (please enjoy this wholesome piece of imagination - I know it's long, but I hope you’ll give it a try nonetheless)
word count: 16.4k 😬
warnings: play boy behavior/talk, a reader that knows what she wants, Bucky falls first (and hard 🤭), mentions of war, injuries, and death (all not applying to Bucky for once), just so much fluff, questioning life choices (angst with happy ending!), smut (this is freaking love making okay?!?!? praise and confessions, dry humping, fingering, multiple orgasms, squirting, touch starved Bucky - in a way…, sensual and beautiful, protected p in v, cock warming, and aftercare) !MINORS DNI!
ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ
"Did you place the order?" Bucky leaned back in Steve's office chair and watched as his friend paced the space with a hand in his pocket.
Steve was grinning like an idiot when the answer on the other side satisfied him and Bucky felt a tiny little spark in his chest at the sight. He'd watched his best friend go through life with a default tension in his shoulders for what seemed like forever. All until he found Bambi - a sweet and incredibly clumsy woman who was formerly his maid. But they found each other and Steve had been a happier man ever since.
Bucky was happy for him, too. He was a lot more fun to be around ever since, but it did remind him that Bucky himself had yet to find the one that would make his heart beat faster.
It was a ridiculous idea, of course. Bucky was never the one for relationships or long-term commitment in the romantic department. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was capable of love - not that he needed it, anyway. He had no problem with having a new plaything every other night. It was fun and kept him on his toes.
"Perfect. Okay. Thanks, Sharon." Bucky sat up straighter in the chair. "Yeah, next Friday. See you later."
Steve sighed as he slumped on the sofa across the room. He watched the ceiling, looking like a love-drunk schoolboy, even though he tried so hard to conceal it. Bucky knew him too well.
"Dinner is booked.”
“You’re really doing it huh?"
“Yup." There was no doubt in Steve’s answer, but rather a special kind of excitement Bucky rarely felt.
The brunette just nodded as he looked to the ground, the chair swaying as he pushed his knees from one side to the other.
Steve just grinned in response. "So when are you gonna let me help you find the one?"
Bucky perked up, amusement seeping through his gaze when he answered his best friend. ”Me? No no. I’m fine."
Steve shrugged. ”You know, that’s exactly what I said about a year ago."
"No offense, Stevie, but you and I were in vastly different sex universes back then. I’m getting laid - I’m aaaaall good." He leaned back with a smug grin and Steve just frowned in response. "You can be as happy as you want but don’t start trying to get everyone on the girlfriend train. That’s a Rogers and Wilson thing. I don’t need that type of commitment."
Steve remained silent as he watched Bucky stand up and head for the door, a thoughtful look on his face when his friend passed him.
“Look, I’m happy for you, truly. I just don’t see myself in that type of life.” Bucky’s hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder just as the blonde cocked his head to the side.
“Never?”
Bucky winked at him. “You know I like to live in the present. But speaking of the future... You’re still up for tomorrow night, right?”
“Tomorrow night?"
"Ironbar."
Steve’s eyes widened. ”Shit. No, I promised Bambi we'd-" Steve stopped when he saw Bucky's eyebrows raise in amusement. “...next time."
Bucky sighed in defeat. "Tell her to leave some Steve time for the rest of us, will ya?" And with a laugh of Steve’s, he shut the office door, walked past Sharon’s desk, then Natasha’s, and then into his own office.
❁ ❁ ❁
The clock hand barely struck 8am when another set of files hit Bucky’s desk.
Bucky huffed as he watched Natasha stand before him with an amused smile, her hands on her hips that were hugged by a tight pencil skirt. “Looking for something, Boss?”
“No...”
“Something like... the invitation to that business dinner on Thursday?” She mused and carefully pulled a piece of paper from the stack between them.
Bucky snatched it with a glare. “It would be much more helpful if you sorted this chaos rather than stand here and be a smartass.” He looked at the invite, the familiar company logo printed in the top right corner. “And why are people even sending paper invites anymore? We’re a security firm,” he sat the paper down and tapped on it with his index finger, “just shows how desperately they need consulting.”
“Don’t blame me for it.” Nat threw her hands in the air. “And stop complaining. I know you’re the cyber guy but a couple papers shouldn’t faze you. I’ve got more important things to do that don’t particularly fall in your area of expertise.” She turned to leave but Bucky stopped her before her heels could reach the threshold.
“Are you saying your job is harder than mine?” Bucky watched the mess on his desk, then the computer screen with his calendar and the impending meeting with those jackasses from Hydra Enterprises. There was no way sorting a couple of papers could be worse than Alexander Pierce and his nephew Brock Rumlow. One of them barely knew how to send an E-mail and the other kept subtly asking if it was legal to install cameras in the lady’s room.
“If you’re referring to your inability to sort a couple files, then yes, I assume you wouldn’t last a day with my tasks.”
“Now that’s bullshit.”
“Is it now?” She raised her left eyebrow with a half-smirk. “I want to see you deal with idiots when scheduling appointments and keeping everyone’s day structured while also organizing the annual fundraiser.”
Bucky huffed, leaning back and crossing his arms before his chest. He averted his eyes from his assistant and the stupid pile of paperwork in front of him. He really did not want to sort through all of that.
“Call me old fashioned but I believe assistants should sort files.” He shrugged, knowing Natasha wouldn’t let him off that easily. They had been working together for years, he respected her as much as his other friends. And presenting the fierce redhead with a challenge to get out of some annoying tasks was something he would gladly do.
“I’ll tell you what. I will sort your papers in my assistant duties.” She made a mockery curtsy - as much as her skirt allowed - and then lifted her finger before the smile could spread on Bucky’s face. “If... you plan the charity event.”
Bucky was shocked. He didn’t expect her to play dirty - well to be fair, it wouldn’t be Nat if she weren’t teasing a little bit - but still. “You think you can handle that, boss?”
Bucky closed his mouth and eyed her suspiciously. It couldn’t be that hard to do. And certainly would be a nice distraction from the impending meeting of doom as well as the following consulting sessions. He let his head fall back and stared at the ceiling.
Was he really going to trade some papers for a whole Gala? That paperwork really sucked. He loved how easily he could wash through files on his computer. Sadly, his programs didn’t help much in the analog part of the job.
“Are you backing down, Barnes?” Nat’s teasing voice rang through to him and he snapped back into his attitude.
“Never.” He stood up, fixed his suit, and then reached his hand toward her. Natasha shook it with an evil smirk. “Always a pleasure doing business with you, Ms. Romanoff.”
And with that, she took the papers from Bucky’s desk and carried them out of his office with a triumphant smile.
❁ ❁ ❁
It wasn’t long before Bucky regretted his decision.
What had he been thinking? A Fundraiser... a fucking fundraiser. Bucky couldn’t care less about them.
Okay, that wasn’t true. He deemed charity to be a very important part of society... and economy. There were times in his life when he was close to needing their help as well. And Bucky swore he’d never let that aspect of his story slip from his mind ever. Still, it didn’t prevent him from living lavishly and making use of the things he had access to now.
Usually, the organization of the charity gala was stuck on Nat and Sharon. Mainly because they had always done an amazing job. The tabloids had only positive things to write about it and always pushed the number before Christmas even higher. Which urged Bucky even more to do just as good of a job this year.
There was just one problem.
He had no idea how to organize events this size. Bucky could program a software from scratch, hack into classified state files on a bad day. Hell, he could track every person’s phone in New York in his sleep. But he never expected to be overwhelmed by a couple invites and color palettes.
Though as little as he knew about his new task, he liked a challenge, and he would most certainly not give Natasha the satisfaction of asking her for a checklist.
So, the internet had to do for now. He’d found a blog by a highly motivated suburban mom, that led with step-by-step instructions on how to plan the perfect event. It might not have been on the scale of what Bucky had to do, but considering his lack of knowledge on the topic, he figured this would do until Natasha snatched the task away from him again.
The first thing on the list was to find a date and venue. But since the gala of Shield Protection Services was always held at the same venue, Bucky figured they had booked it indefinitely for the event.
Next was to find the perfect florist that ‘is able to put your vision into extravagant floral arrangements’. Yeah... that was another problem.
Bucky didn’t buy flowers. The only women he deemed important enough in his life to get them were his sister and his mother. And well, both of them had passed away. So, picking the right flowers hadn’t been a problem until now. His mother and sister were always enchanted by the bouquets they received when Bucky was younger. He’d steal them from their neighbor‘s garden. But since he could grow a beard, Bucky hadn’t even touched flowers anymore.
Well, that had to change now.
Bucky stepped into the elevator just to be greeted by big round eyes and an even wider smile. “Paying Steve a visit?” Bucky teased with a half smile as he hugged Bambi and then faced the doors.
“I’m actually meeting Natasha for lunch,” she shifted from one foot to the other, “I didn’t realize she was already at the restaurant... so that’s where I’m headed now.”
Bucky chuckled at her slight awkwardness. But it wouldn’t be Bambi if she wouldn’t miss such a detail.
“Do you need a ride? My driver’s waiting for me anyway.”
“Tha- yes that would be nice, thank you.”
Bucky just nodded and gestured for her to lead the way when they reached the ground floor.
“Where are you going?” Bambi asked as he stared out the window of the car. They had told the driver where they needed to go. And Since Bucky had no particular destination in mind, it worked out well.
“I’m on the hunt for the perfect flower shop to cater to my vision of our charity event.” He chuckled and shook his head at his own words. He’s never thought he’d say this.
Her eyes peered at him with intrigue, a glimmer washing over them when she asked: “Are you taking suggestions?”
Bucky sat up straighter now. “Uh, yes. Gladly.” This was easier than he thought.
“There is this wonderful shop in Brooklyn. It’s called AsGarden on 18th Avenue. You can’t miss it, it’s like a breath of fresh air between all those ugly beige buildings. The woman owning it has great taste, she managed to make the perfect bouquet for me without ever seeing me.” She turned forward, a little flustered, “Steve gets me flowers from there sometimes, they’re my favorite.”
“Did you hear that, Stan?” A victorious smile spread on Bucky’s face as he squeezed Bambi’s shoulder. “Next stop is Brooklyn.”
“Alright, Sir.”
“You don’t know how much easier you just made my life.” Bucky leaned forward and kissed her cheek before the car came to a stop and he bid her goodbye.
“I’m glad I could help.” She waved back and then headed into the restaurant.
Maybe the event wasn’t so difficult after all, Bucky thought as he leaned back in his seat, his legs spreading in satisfaction.
❁ ❁ ❁
The cool air snook through your shop when the familiar bell of a customer chimed above the door. You’d seen many people frequent your shop daily. Women, men, teenagers, elderly. All came from different backgrounds and varying stories in their repertoire. Your store was in the heart of Brooklyn - a bunch of people mixed in this town. And you’d made it your mission to find the perfect flower arrangement for each and every one of them.
The man who had set off your little bell this afternoon was different though. A perfectly tailored coat adorned his broad shoulders. The way his hands were tucked in his pockets revealed the expensive-looking suit beneath as well as the toned chest that hid beneath the button-up in vain. His presence oozed money as he sashayed through your shop, carefully grazing delicate pedals with the aura he brought in.
He seemed to own the world, but something about him just didn’t fit between the colorful flowers surrounding him. If you didn’t know any better, he looked a little lost, eyes glassy as they swayed through the sea of colors and shapes soaking in fresh water.
“Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you?”
He ripped around, fixed his posture, and approached the cash desk. When his eyes landed on you, he froze. Just for a second, however, and then his jaw snapped into a handsome smile as he leaned forward.
“I sure hope so.” His white teeth flashed between his lips before his tongue stroked over them. It was capturing. “This flower shop has been recommended to me. You wouldn’t happen to be the owner?”
“Well actually, I am,” you smiled hiding the pride swelling in your chest from the comment.
“Great. What is your capacity when it comes to event arrangements?”
“That depends...” You smiled as the handsome stranger raised his eyebrows in intrigue. “I reckon we have vastly different understandings of what is small and... big.” Your eyes wandered over his expensive coat again. The innuendo was accidental, really, but he seemed to be amused nevertheless.
“My company is hosting its annual charity event in November... at The Glasshouse.”
“So just as I suspected...” You nodded and strode past him towards the fall flowers.
“Pardon me?”
You turned your head towards him and winked. “Bigger than I thought.”
“So?” He approached you with his hands still in his coat pockets and peeked over your shoulder. “Can you do it?”
“Totally.” Then you gestured to the flowers. “Do you have any preferences? I don’t have all the flowers in yet, but I recommend going with some soft orange and sage tones... to cater to the season.”
“Forgive me, sweetheart, but I am useless when it comes to this kind of stuff. My qualities lie more in the technical aspect of things.” A hand ran through his thick dark hair and the gesture made him look boyish.
“Alright let me rephrase my question then: Do you trust me?” A sly smile sneaked on his face, matching yours.
He tipped his head. “My life is in your hands.”
“Good. Then please write down your details here.” You pushed a form over the counter once you reached it again, and the man just followed you around like a lost dog. You watched as his hand swiftly filled out the free spaces on the paper, curious which company he had been referring to.
“Wait you’re working for SPS?”
“I own it, sweetheart.” The man adjusted his coat as you tried to look unimpressed. “My name is James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” His hand extended over the shiny countertop until it encased your smaller fingers and his warmth seeped through your body.
Bucky’s smile brightened when you revealed your name to him, telling you how beautiful it was, and you began to struggle not to show the effects it had on you. Then he resumed filling out the order and slid it over to you again.
“What cause are you raising money for this year?” You asked as you sorted the paper into your books, only to be surprised when Bucky seemed a little nervous all of a sudden.
You knew Shield Protection Services was a pristine company with reach to people whose powers you could barely comprehend. Whatever they were choosing, it would have a big impact on the change their chosen organization was advocating.
“Well, to be honest... we haven’t decided yet.” A silly idea hushed through your head at that, but you dismissed it. A company such as Bucky’s would raise sums only big fish could handle. There wasn’t space for the things you had in mind.
“I hope you’ll do so soon, then.” You nodded thoughtfully and ended with a tight-lipped smile.
Bucky nodded and smiled, then turned around and headed for the door. But before he could open it, he came back again. You looked up to see a black card held before you.
“I’d be happy for suggestions... if you have any in mind.” He shrugged with that cheeky look of his and then left. And you just stood there, dumbfounded, and toying with the ridiculous idea that Bucky Barnes might actually be able to read minds.
❁ ❁ ❁
“Rogers really couldn’t make it?” Tony asked as he leaned back in the leather booth of his very own establishment. He tipped his emptied whiskey glass towards the slender redhead at the bar and smiled as she rushed to get his refill ready.
“He promised Bambi to be home...” Bucky trailed off as he watched a customer hit on the waitress - Tiffany he remembered - A pretty thing, but unfortunately incredibly hollow when it came to conversation... not that Bucky looked for anything like it.
Tony huffed. “That woman has him wrapped around her finger!” He liked Bambi, everyone did, he just missed hanging out with his guys.
“Just wait until you find the one, Tony,” Sam chimed in with a sly smirk on his face - a hopeful, yet cautious hint as Sam secretly loved the idea of all his friends finally finding the one. He was a romantic, Bucky knew it, even if Sam never actually said it.
“Me? I would never give up my glorious bachelor life for one woman. There are way too many things to explore...”
“Mark my words, Stark. We’ll look back to this day and laugh about this incredibly jackassy statement. You, too will be finding the one. I just know it.”
Bucky chuckled and tipped his glass on the Table as the bickering of his friends faded into background noise. For some reason, he didn’t feel like adding to the conversation. He blamed it on the banality of a conversation both he and Tony had long decided on, but perhaps, it was because for once in his life, he considered taking Sam’s side on the topic.
It was ridiculous, really, how fast you’d occupied his mind when it came to Sam’s comment about finding ‘the one’. He didn’t even know you aside from the ‘background check’ he conducted after his visit to your shop. That might have covered your personal details, but he still didn’t know if you were a dog person or preferred cats, or if you were vegan or vegetarian, or if you considered kids in your future.
Bucky cleared his throat and sat up straighter when he felt the fluster creep up his neck. What the hell was happening to him? He wasn’t like this at all. Women occupied his mind for about as long as it took for him to make them come undone in his hands. When he was with them, his full attention was on them - he loved them - but he’d never let them control his life. James “Bucky” Barnes never even considered seeing them twice, let alone thinking about a future with them.
Though, to Bucky’s displeasure - or pleasure (he hadn’t decided yet) - the thought of seeing you again wasn’t uncomfortable to him. On the contrary, he got a weird tingly feeling in his stomach when he remembered the smell of the flowers in your shop and how your delicate fingers carefully picked out the prettiest ones. Bucky sat his drink down with a clink. Maybe he’d had enough alcohol for tonight.
“Barnes, how come you’re not defending me here? Have you grown soft or something? Do you have a girl we don’t know about?” Tony’s nagging broke through to Bucky and the whole bar reached back into his consciousness.
“Sorry, what?” He stuttered, shaking his thought and trying to find a good answer to his friend’s remark. “I was distracted by Betty.” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he received a clap on his shoulder.
“That’s my man.” Tony grinned and Sam huffed into his whiskey. And Bucky? He just sunk into his seat, feeling somehow shameful for the white lie he had made up.
❁ ❁ ❁
The SPS office was impressive. Amongst the old New York brick building surrounding it, it reached up into the sky with its glass front everything. But you wouldn’t be fooled by its fragile looks. This was one of the most secure buildings in the city. You’d read about it in an article some time back - the whole hype about the company was their way of making fragile-looking things indestructible. You couldn’t see through the “windows” from the outside. And you wouldn’t be able to launch a rocket through it either. SPS had patented their stronger-than-steel-glass years ago, making them the leading security company in the world.
To say you had been a little surprised to see the very owner of said company on your side of town would be an understatement. But besides his incredibly adamant way of flirting, he was quite normal to talk to. He’d even asked you for advice on the cause they should donate to this year. And after having thought about it for the better part of what should have been your sleep time, you had decided to just try and pitch your idea.
“Do you have an appointment Ms.?” A stunning redhead peered up at you from her desk, her nails clicked on the keyboard of her computer as she waited for your answer. You didn’t really know why you thought getting to Bucky was going to be easy. The security guard had already eyed you suspiciously at the front desk in the lobby. After you’d smiled at him as charmingly as you could, he’d decided to let you be someone else’s problem today - or maybe he just didn’t see you as a threat - whatever it was, it had gotten you this far. But what were you gonna say now?
Actually, I don’t have an appointment, but Mr Barnes met me yesterday and after thinking about him all night, I decided to pay him a visit today.
Yeah, that wouldn’t cut it. Not in this office. The redhead - N. Romanoff - was what her sign said, made that fairly clear with the way her lips pursed at the opened calendar on the screen.
“You don’t happen to have to discuss something not suited for work with Mr. Barnes, do you? I know he tends to leave some of his meetings... open-ended.”
Your eyes got wide. “God, no. I’m not-“ Your hands made a swishing motion between you two and then you took a breath. “I’m here to discuss business. Purely business. Mr. Barnes has made an order at my shop for the company fundraiser and I just want to discuss some details.”
Her eyes glimmered when her lips pulled into a smile. “Did he now?” She peered over to catch the look of the blonde assistant a few feet next to her and then back to you. “Well if that is the case, please have a seat, I’ll tell him you’re here.” And with that, she got up, winked, and wrapped at the large wooden door presumably leading to Bucky’s office.
She came back a minute later and gestured for you to enter. “Lucky for you, his meeting just got canceled, so you should have enough time.”
“Thank you.” And then Ms. Romanoff went back to her desk and started whispering to the blonde assistant.
Bucky sat behind his desk, a sleek glass surface lightly cluttered with papers. Other than that, the room felt cool, the large rug by the seating area did little to cover the marbled floors. You stepped inside just as Bucky called out your name. You almost didn't see the wide smile on his face as the rising sun hung low on the horizon behind him, casting a halo-like glow around his silhouette. What a freaking entrance. Though Bucky surely couldn’t control the sun, you thought with a small smile, you really had to stop imagining this man was extraordinary.
“You’re here.” He got up and walked towards you, his sleek back shoes echoing on the ground. And then he was next to you, leading you to the seat in front of his desk with his hand on the small of your back. “What brings me the honor of your visit, darling.”
He leaned on his desk with his arms crossed, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice that you came by, but you do have my number, don’t you?”
“I do.” You cleared your throat, trying to sound as convincing as possible. “I was hoping you had some time to spare, actually. I find the phone to be a little... impersonal.”
Bucky’s eyes shined with intrigue as he leaned forward, pinning you to the chair with his gaze. He licked his lips. “Show me what exactly?”
“You’ll see.” You smirked. “I happen to know that your next meeting just got canceled.”
Bucky got even closer, his breath hitting your neck with every word he spoke. “And I’ll gladly cancel the rest, too.” A shiver shot over your arms, his cologne seemingly intoxicating you. But before you could respond, he backed up, grabbing his coat and gesturing towards the door. “Lead the way.”
And so you did.
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky was suspicious when you pulled him into the subway, but he decided against saying something. He had told you he trusted you after all, and though Bucky considered himself a lot of things, a flake was not one of them. So he let it happen.
It wasn’t half bad, either. Somewhere between his office door and the train, you had taken his hand in yours to pull him along faster. Bucky had noticed his lips spreading into a smile. It didn't last long, unfortunately. Because as he had made eye contact with an elderly lady who had then proceeded to tell you what a beautiful couple you were, you had pulled your hand away with an awkward laugh.
‘Oh, God, no, we’re not together, ma’am.’
Admittedly, Bucky felt a little sting in his chest ever since. In fact, he was rubbing his hand over his shirt at this very moment. You were walking along a street in Brooklyn, not too far from your shop. The neighborhood was a little more run-down than he was used to, certainly nothing like the part of town he lived in. But he kept quiet still. Maybe he was a little butthurt from your earlier aversion about the couple comment, but to be fair, Bucky wasn’t used to women denying him - except Nat.
You suddenly stopped, making Bucky almost run into you and then stare at you in question. But when you gestured towards the sign above the two-story building, his gaze softened.
There, above the blue-painted metal doors, hung a faded sign. Bucky could make out the orange and yellow stripes on the board, a big Sunflower painted in the middle of it all. ‘Sunflower -Shelter & Food’.
“Hey, are you coming or are you glued to the ground?” Your voice rang from the entrance, he hadn’t even noticed that you already moved inside.
Bucky gulped when his eyes swayed back to you and then down his own body. If he was going to step in there in the outfit he was currently wearing, he would look like the biggest asshole on the planet.
“I can’t go in there.”
“Why not?”
He just gestured towards his clothes, his Rolex glinting in the sunlight for good measure. But there was no reaction from you. You stood in the doorway, pursing your lips seemingly in thought, and then shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “I guess you’ll just have to deal with it then.”
“What?” He called your name. But when he realized you weren’t joking, he caught up to you as fast as possible. Because the only thing worse than showing up there looking like he did was doing it alone, he decided swiftly.
“‘Think now might be a good time to mention that this is not a very good place for a date,” Bucky mumbled next to you before closing his coat, trying to hide the even more expensive suit beneath.
“How would you know?” You turned to him. “This isn’t a date, is it?”
Bucky just smirked and then he watched you greet a young boy with a warm hug, and man he imagined what it would be like to have you hug him like that.
“Peter this is Bucky, Bucky, Peter.” You pulled him towards you by his hand again. “I brought him along to help today, thought we always need an extra pair of hands around here.”
“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Peter reached his hand out, slightly frowning when he took in his appearance but did not say anything. “Any help is always welcome here. Come, I’ll show you what we’re doing today.”
Within ten minutes, Bucky had an apron and gloves on and was ordered to cut the biggest stack of potatoes he’d ever seen. You were happily chatting away with the other helpers and Bucky, for the first time in a long time, felt ...normal.
Nobody was recognizing him in the crowd, there was no talk about business and investments, and there were no fucking cameras. Here, people recognized him for what he came to do, help. And it felt weird. Bucky wasn’t quiet about his lavish lifestyle around his crowds. He knew the privilege he had, and he had worked for it enough to be proud of it. But it was like he had entered a different universe in this part of town. All the things he deemed normal, were things so far from imagination here, they were left out of conversations entirely. So, he tried to remember this whenever he was offered a conversation.
“You do this every day?” He asked into the kitchen while struggling to peel his 5th potato.
“Whenever we can.” An older woman answered with a smile. She was the one who had shown him how to use the peeler faster. “They are people just like you and me. They have to eat every day, too, Bucky.”
Bucky just nodded in silence at the humbling answer, his cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at how naive he had been.
Two hours later, he was standing by your side at the serving station, plating mashed potatoes and the accommodating ‘you’re welcome’ every once in a while. He rarely was out of his comfort zone, like today. But he also knew that, whenever he felt unsure, he’d look at you and you’d gift him an encouraging gesture that kept him going a little while longer.
After everyone had their food, you gave Bucky a tour of the premises.
There was a small courtyard, a couple rooms with telephones and a computer, some sofas and pillows. Nothing fancy but functional nonetheless. You led him through every room, explaining curtly what it was for and then you led him up the stairs.
On your way up, you passed Peter, who was helping a child find its toy and Bucky felt a lump form in his throat at all the new impressions he was fed today.
He cleared his throat. “Peter... is he?”
You shook your head. “Not exactly. His parents died when he was quite young. Lucky for him, though, he has always been a bright kid. He got a scholarship for every school he ever went to. But he spends most of his free time here. He has this urge to help wherever he can. Took me a couple months to keep him from skipping his lectures.” You chuckled and led him through the next door.
Bucky nodded with adoration. Not many people dedicated their time to something that would not benefit them directly. And while Bucky knew what a dedicated mind was capable of, he had to admit that his efforts were always motivated by personal gain.
“He’s very admirable for that.”
You just hummed in response. “I don’t think he chose it himself. Not that I think he wouldn’t. But this shelter belonged to his uncle and aunt. They died when he was in high school. He’s working hard to keep this place alive. As do we all.”
The next room you entered was resembling a classroom. “What happens here?”
“Most of the children are registered for the public school of this district. But they don’t always make it there. This room gives them the opportunity to catch up on missed work. We also have adult classes here, preparing for job interviews and such.”
The next hallway presented doors, all leading to bedrooms, as you explained to Bucky when you walked through the corridor. The last door was larger than the others - a double swing leading to a big sanitary area. Showers, toilets, and sinks lined the walls - all run down but functional.
“This place could use some serious renovating,” Bucky mumbled, but he was sure you had heard him. Because you looked up at him now, a sad smile decorating your beautiful face.
“We try to make it as clean and cozy as possible here, but we just don’t have the necessary financial means for it. It works for now. The people coming here need very little. But it’s only a matter of time until the roof needs redoing or the pipes or the windows, or the-“
“Yeah...” Bucky trailed off, making you stop and giving him a break to breathe. He usually wasn’t surrounded by people unable to get out of unfortunate situations. The clients he spent his time with ordered his services to protect the material things they’d bought for status and fun. It was something entirely different when you were robbed of your place to sleep.
“Well, this completes my humble tour.” You clasped your hands together and proceeded to look at your watch. “I think it’s time to go home.”
You descended the stairs in silence, Peter hugged Bucky goodbye and when he stepped foot back on the sidewalk, Bucky turned around to the sign once more. You stood beneath it, leaning against the doorframe and smiling at him. It was dark out now.
“Are you not coming?” He asked watching as you shook your head.
“Peter has an exam tomorrow. I offered to stay the night.”
“Here? Alone?”
“Yes.”
Bucky stepped towards you again. “Then I’m go-“
“Stop.” Your hand reached for his shoulder, the touch sending him straight back to a haze. “Don’t do this. I know how you feel. There’s this sadness inside you now. You saw this for the first time. It feels awful - I know.” You retracted your hand and pushed yourself off the doorframe. “But until you don’t see anything other than pity for these people, you can’t be here without breaking.”
“Doll...”
“Bucky, I'm serious. Go home. Sleep on it. Try to understand the situation.”
Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this helpless. He just stared at you, unable to move or say anything. He didn’t like the idea of you staying here alone at night. And though the feeling of caring for someone he’d only known for two days so much scared him, he pushed it aside.
You leaned forward and hugged him goodbye and then the cold night surrounded him again. “Thank you for trusting me today.” And then you turned around and left him standing outside alone.
❁ ❁ ❁
Your purple-inked pen marked the date in your calendar.
“That’s an unusually big order, Steve...” You looked up at the blonde frequenting your shop every so often. He’d always get the pink carnations for his girlfriend. Apparently, she loved them after you bound them in the first bouquet you ever sold to Steve. He was a simple man, you could tell, so his usual orders were just as such. But not today. “Are you planning anything special?”
The handsome customer blushed with an innocent smile. “Actually...” He scratched the back of his neck. “I’m planning to propose.” He looked so sheepish when you clasped your hands in excitement.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Congratulations!”
“Well not yet.” He cleared his throat, visibly trying to compose himself. But this giant pretty man in front of you was adorably nervous.
“I just know she’ll say yes,” you mused and made a note to reserve some more carnations for his order - a couple simple arrangements that held so much meaning.
“How do you know?”
You watched Steve peer over to you with hopeful eyes. “It’s not every day a man puts so much effort and thought into what bouquet to get his girlfriend on a casual Monday evening each week.” You winked and Steve nodded lost in thought.
“To be honest, I haven’t even thought about her saying no. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
“You shouldn’t worry too much. You are a good man, everyone can see that. And just to be sure, I’ll make the most perfect flowers ever. Paired with your charming ways, there will be no other option but to say yes.”
He relaxed a little. “Great. Thank you.” And then he turned to leave your shop.
“I’ll have them ready by Friday.” You smiled.
“Thank you... so much.” Steve smiled and you knew there was so much more hidden in his gesture.
❁ ❁ ❁
It had become a habit that Bucky visited the shelter with you once a week. Admittedly, you were surprised he even cared enough to free his schedule so religiously. But as of the past four weeks, he had shown up at your shop, walked with you to Sunflower shelters, mingled with the people, and then even walked you home.
It was actually kind of refreshing, seeing him so invested and kind of protective. There weren’t many guys in the city that cared enough to get you home safely. Peter offered more times than often, but you rather knew him safe at the shelter than try to fight a gangster double his size out of the kindness of his heart and the deep wish to somehow become a superhero one day.
So Bucky had to do it for now. Not that you were complaining. He was handsome and charming and interesting to converse with given the vastly different lives you lived. But he tried to adapt. Ever since the incident on the first day, he had even tried to wear less wealth-telling clothing, though he seemed to not always hit the mark just right.
In a way, bucky was a little fashion icon. You’d noticed it in his colorful waistcoats, the intricate details on his shoes, or the fancy cufflinks adorning his oxford-cotton shirts. He tried to dress down. But to your surprise, the color remained. Instead of waistcoats and dress shirts, he wore regular t-shirts. His confidence never wavered.
A little smile hushed across your face every time you looked at him. The pink shirt he wore combined with the green apron he had been given, made him look like a lollipop. A Beautiful one, that was. With a dashing smile and an adorable frown as he tried to separate the peas from the pod.
“So... how is the gala coming along?” You teased him a little having noticed how unusual this task was for him. Throughout your few meetings, you had gotten to know Bucky quite well. And apart from his statement the very day he stepped foot into your shop, he revealed to you more and more how difficult the project was for him.
“Let’s just say I’m glad I can count on the flower arrangements,” he grumbles as a pea slipped from his fingers and across the table.
“That bad, huh?”
His hands stopped working. “The Band canceled on me again and I seem to run after every other arrangement I have made so far. If I had known how much work-“ he huffed and then shook his head with an even deeper frown.
“Hey, it’s okay to not be good at everything.” You encouraged him, your elbow nudging his side as you smiled lightly. “There has got to be something humbling you. Makes you seem more human.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I meant to ask you...” You picked up your task to avoid his eyes that were suddenly on you again. “How come you’re the one organizing the gala?”
Bucky chuckled, his head shaking for what seemed like the hundredth time today. “I made a deal with my assistant.”
“What was in it for you?” You threw a couple peas in the strainer and Bucky did the same.
He shrugged. “I got to hand off some paperwork.”
Wow. “Seriously? A bit of paperwork seems like a poor trade for months of organizing something so important.”
Bucky laughed, the sound warming your stomach from the inside out and finally making you look at him again. It was little moments like this in which he felt so careless and relaxed. You liked to believe the shelter did it to him, or maybe even you. But primarily, you were glad he laid off his work self just then. “Yeah it might have not been my smartest move... but I don’t mind it really.”
“Why’s that?” Your eyes locked and you suddenly became very aware of how close the two of you were standing.
“If it weren’t for the deal, I would have never met you.” There was something so honest and pure about the way he had stated this so plainly. And for a moment, you liked to forget that he might have just meant your suggestion to donate to Sunflower. That maybe, the funny fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t one-sided, and that you too meant something greater to him than the coincidences that led him into your shop that day.
A wide smile spread on Bucky’s face and then he winked. He freaking winked at you. And while you turned back to your peas, desperate to hide the fluster on your face, you had to remind yourself that this was Bucky fucking Barnes and that he knew what he was doing.
About two hours later, you sat amongst the people currently living at the shelter, sharing the meal you had prepared for them with the hopes of getting them through another day. You and Bucky were sitting with Gabe Jones, a veteran whose post-traumatic stress disorder had cost him everything after the Vietnam War. He was always telling stories of his time on the front - a way to cope with his horrible past. By now, you and Peter had probably heard every single one of his stories twice. But Bucky was on the edge of his seat. Listening with intrigue as the food on his plate remained untouched.
“It was ’68 when I was sent out. There were soldiers who done already survived a year or so at the front. And, son, I am sayin’ survived ‘cause you couldn’t call that livin’.” Gabe shook his head before pointing his fork to his shoulder. “Caught a grenade in ’69 and on our way to camp, they shot at the helicopter. Lost my right arm and comrade that day. The damn arm’s gone but I’m gon’ have the memory forever.”
The words didn’t seem to affect the veteran anymore, but they never failed to leave their recipients shocked and wondering. It was always the same question: How can someone fight for a country, leave their life for a country, and end up here?
And honestly? You didn’t know.
“I’m so sorry, sir.” Bucky swallowed as his eyes fled over to yours. “Thank you for your service.”
“Notin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” Gabe waved his hand and then pointed at Bucky’s plate. “You eatin’ that?”
Bucky just shook his head and pushed his plate towards Gabe, a somber state overtaking his body. You did feel a little bad. But you also knew that Gabe wasn’t affected by sympathies and that he was happy at Sunflower - though he preferred the street over the beds here. While he had spent just another day existing, he had simultaneously opened Bucky’s eyes to the severity of making stories like his more known.
By now you were pretty confident, Bucky would choose the homeless as recipients for his company’s fundraiser sum. But he surprised you by getting involved with the people here over and over again, willing to learn and to understand.
The walk to your apartment building that evening was awfully quiet. Bucky had insisted he walk on the street side of the sidewalk, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and shut up ever since.
You knew he was contemplating, letting the day play on repeat in his mind. He probably had a lot of questions, a lot of frustration, and worry. Nothing unfamiliar to you, but something you’d learned to deal with ever since helping out at Sunflower.
“Don’t feel bad,” you said when you stopped in front of the familiar brick building you called home.
“How?”
“Feeling bad isn’t helping them. You have the power to change things.” It was an awfully dry response, but the truth hurt sometimes.
Bucky just looked at you through hooded eyes, a knowing nod shaking his features as he watched slowly take a step back toward your front door.
“Thank you,” he suddenly released - steady and calm. “For taking me. For helping me see...”
You couldn’t help yourself. The confession overwhelmed you. Knowing you had succeeded in showing him what was so important to you overwhelmed you. You leaped forward and slung your arms around him, pressing tightly into his chest.
Bucky’s arms found their way around you in an instant, the hug conveying so much more than just a goodbye. It was a ‘thank you’ a ‘this means the world to me’.
After about a minute, you leaned up to him and placed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m also glad you took the deal, Bucky.” You whispered into his ear, feeling the smile on his face on your cheek.
When he finally released you, it seemed like the spell was gone. Bucky was back to burying his hands in his pockets, only the faint remnants of a smile hinting towards your earlier interaction. You hadn’t realized how much this would affect him. You had forgotten how long you fought with yourself until you could act normal around the people at Sunflower yourself.
“Do you want to come up?” You threw your thumb over your shoulder at the entrance of the building with a lopsided smile. “Don’t want that cheap bottle of merlot to go bad.”
Bucky’s eyes brightened underneath the street lights and the wide boyish grin returned to his face. “We can’t have that, can we?”
❁ ❁ ❁
To say Bucky’s heart had skipped a beat at your invitation would have been an understatement. It did somersaults and ended with an impressive backflip. He’d not expected a move from your side. Especially, since the last time he had picked you up, the universe had flipped him the bird by sending two of his former one-night-stands your way. He had been able to shake them off before they were able to yell at him or reveal more of what their connection to him was. But that marked the first time he was a little embarrassed by his late endeavors. You had acted like nothing happened, but since that night, Bucky hadn’t stopped wondering what you thought of him.
You lead him up the narrow staircase to a red wooden door, the color chipping by the floor as an indicator of having to kick it to open sometimes. Beyond the door, it was cozy and warm. Every corner of your place had a memory placed in it - a self-made quilt or a photograph. When you walked through it, Bucky could feel the love and time this place had seen.
It was nothing like his own apartment: a penthouse standing high above the city, with sleek black surfaces and cold marble wherever you reached. Here, he felt the need to take his shoes off, to feel the fuzzy carpets on the scratched-up wooden floors. Your place wasn’t sterile like his, it felt... like a good hug.
Bucky snorted as the result of a breath he released. Never before had he cared about what his place lacked. It was expensive and pristine, clean and big. And even though your apartment was about the size of his living room, it had so much more to offer.
“The living room is right through there, you can choose a movie if you like.” Your voice called out from somewhere Bucky assumed to be the kitchen as he kicked off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the rust-colored sofa that had more pillows than necessary. It was super comfortable, though. And the lack of space due to the pillows forced you to sit a little closer to him, so he wasn’t complaining.
“Your place is... cute.” He stated as you handed him a glass of wine and laughed.
“It’s a shoebox but I do love it very much. Probably nothing compared to what you’re used to.”
Bucky shook his head and took a sip. The wine did taste cheap, but he did not care. “Bigger isn’t always better.” His arm was spread on the backrest but your whole body was turned to him. “It has a lot of character.”
“Oh god, please stop, you’re just making it sound worse.” Your hand came up to hide your face but your smile peeked through the gesture.
Bucky laughed. “I didn’t mean it condescendingly. I really do like it. Reminds me of my childhood home.”
“Are you close with your family?” Bucky was surprised by the question. Maybe it was because his friends never talked about his family, or because the peers he hung out with tended to discuss business rather than sentimental. But he realized that nobody had asked him about it for a long time.
And so he began talking. Bucky talked about his parents and how both of them died early in his life. He told you how close he was with his sister until she got adopted into another family. He spoke about his childhood with Steve and how they’d met Sam and Tony in college, about the night they had the idea for Shield Protective Services, and finally the day he was told his sister had passed away.
Throughout his story, you had leaned into him closer, hanging onto his every word until your hand had to support your body on his thigh and Bucky suddenly stopped talking.
Your glasses were emptied, the bottle as well, and Bucky gulped when he felt the heat from your hand travel throughout his entire body.
“So... that’s my story.” He had to clear his throat to gain his usual timber back, his hands becoming sweaty when you blinked next to him. “What about you, dove?”
“Dove?” You smiled, yet intrigued by the name that had slipped past his lips in the trance of the moment. He’d only ever called you that in his thoughts. Attributed the nickname to you the second he realized it was the most fitting one of them all.
“You don’t like it?” He asked, his arm slipping towards your shoulder ever so slightly.
“I like it.” You smiled. “I just want to know... why this one?”
A hush of giddiness crawled up his throat when he thought about his answer. It was the way you had welcomed him so easily into this world of yours. How you were willing to show him the things precious to you. That you trusted him with this very opportunity to help. Every day he spent with you he felt it, found that between coding his new security program and meeting with Hydra enterprises, its somber reality sent him into a feeling of breathing fresh air. You created a button that turned off the noise in his head. “Because you bring me peace.”
Your eyes stared at him in wonder when he tilted your chin with his thumb and index finger. There was appreciation and happiness, he could see it, feel it.
Bucky was entranced by your stare when your voice whispered a response to him: “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever been told.”
You leaned forward and Bucky’s heart threatened to jump out of his chest, and then your face fell into his chest, your arms encasing him in the warmest hug he’d ever received. He willed his pulse to slow and wrapped his arms around you tightly. A little humbled and a little confused, but appreciative of the situation nonetheless.
You stayed like this when you chose a movie to watch. Even after an hour, Bucky’s grip didn’t loosen. He peered down at you on his chest and watched as you fell asleep. And when he was sure you were far away in your slumber, he pressed a warm kiss to your head, lingering in the scent of your shampoo.
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky stared at his computer screen as the pen in his hand clicked on his glass desk in perfect rhythm. The Shelter website displayed on the surface, portraying a brighter version of the sign you had dragged him to that very first day.
But it wasn’t the heartfelt story behind the building or the way his pen clicked slightly more hollow every other tap because he turned it too much that had him zoned out at work. It was - as unbelievable as it sounded - a woman. Not just any, no. You.
“Hey, I need a signature from you for this design draft.” Steve dropped his notepad on the desk, then rounded it and settled behind Bucky who had yet to recognize his presence.
“This your charity suggestion?” He questioned with his hands on his friend’s office chair.
Bucky nodded absentmindedly. Perhaps it was because he had decided to support your suggestion the second you had taken his hand on his way to the subway. Or maybe he was just letting his mind roam freely again. Mainly because it was a safe bet to call you into memory and he liked the feeling it provided.
A pale hand waved in front of his face. “Earth to Bucky.” Steve snapped his fingers, making the brunette jump. “You seem oddly distracted.”
He had been thinking about you. Of course, he had. There seemed to be nothing else he could do lately. Every time Bucky read through his reports, he imagined what your voice would sound like reading them to him. Whenever he went down to IT, he envisioned the room decorated with your flowers and how much happier they would make the place. When he sat in a meeting with HR and watched their burnt-out faces stare back at him through their coffee haze, he wondered if you could make them as lively as you made him.
Bucky could - so he realized after weeks of denial - not escape you.
That was one thing. But the more chilling revelation was that he did not mind. He enjoyed the little admonitions his mind set out in his environment. He appreciated the quickening thumb in his chest, whenever he saw his calendar entries stating another meeting with you - so much so that he almost forgot how unusual it was for him.
It was crazy. A month ago, if someone had dared to tell him he’d be finding something more than his regular flings, he would have laughed in their face. In fact, he actually did a few days before he met you.
Bucky didn’t know what kind of magical spell you’d put on him, but within a few weeks, he’d started to become a different man. A better version of his thought-to-be-marvelous self. Now he realized what he was missing: a counterpart, someone who made life seem dull without them by his side. He wasn’t going to admit it to Sam or Steve immediately, but the idea of you being that very someone became more attractive each day.
“Just a lot to do with the gala and all...” Bucky trailed off and spun around to Steve.
“You know, I never took you for an event manager...” The blonde grinned and his eyes lit up in the office light. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I like seeing you try something new, but this feels very... out of place.”
“But you also know I never back down from a challenge. And I’ll be damned if Nat has something to hold against me for life.”
Steve’s head tipped forward. “We both know that woman has blackmail material for two lifetimes on us.
“She really does.” Bucky sighed and then slumped back in his chair, the little issue he had been hiding from his best friend gnawing on his mind.
He thought about Steve and Bambi and how he had just asked her to marry him. She’d said yes, of course, nobody expected otherwise. Steve - of all people - was living a magical fairytale life with the woman of his dreams. And here Bucky was, thinking he had figured it all out with women and relationships - or rather that he never wanted one - yet he found himself wondering why that decision bugged him so much when you came into the picture.
“Can I ask you something?” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath, not believing he was really going to ask Steve for dating advice.
“Always.”
“How did you know that Bambi was the one?” A stupid question, really. Bucky already knew there was nobody like you. But it was best to start this conversation off lightly.
Steve smiled widely again, his cheeks tinted pink. “Well, I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And not in an I haven’t touched a woman in years kind of way... I couldn’t stop. Every second of every day, I imagined her with me. The thought of her made me happier even before she knew how I felt about her. And, well, it also hurt like hell when I thought she didn’t return my feelings... when she refused to talk to me for a day...” He cleared his throat and then eyed Bucky again. “Why do you want to know?”
“Nothing in particular. I was just wondering and I needed material for my best man speech.” But the blonde didn’t buy it. He caught Bucky’s chair when he attempted to turn away, pulling him right back in front of him. “Are you dating someone? Is it that woman from the flower shop?”
How did he know about you? “No??” Bucky squinted at Steve.
“You know if you wanted advice, I do consider myself an expert to some extent now.” Bucky wanted to wipe the smug grin right off his friend’s face.
“You’re an idiot.” He stood up and paced to the window.
“Oh come on, Buck.” Steve followed suit, the playful grin ever present. “You teased me for years about my love life, can’t be mad now.”
“I’m not mad.” He was annoyed.
They stood by the glass front for a while, watching the busy city unfold beneath them in the glow of the rising sun. Bucky could feel his friend’s eyes stare at him though. And after another moment of silence, the blonde finally spoke. “You should ask her out.”
“What?” He faced him again.
“You like her. I can tell. And you’ve never acted like this about a woman, let alone put so much effort into a relationship. I know it’s not your style, but I think it would do you good to at least try.”
“The effort is for the gala.” Bucky corrected.
“Right. Because that’s your thing... charity galas.” Steve squeezed Bucky’s shoulder and then tapped it and then he made his way to the door. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I really wish you would listen to your heart and not be a stubborn dickhead for once. This could be something life-changing - something great. And it’s your choice whether you welcome it or not.”
Life changing. Bucky didn’t like the sound of that. He liked to be in control of the situation and rule over his own life. However that aspect seemed to have left the building when you entered.
He huffed. There you were back on his mind again, and he felt the tingle creep up his throat. There was no denying it. What Steve had described with Bambi was what Bucky had with you.
With a shake of his head, he grabbed his coat, told Nat he’d be back in an hour, and then pressed the button for the elevator. He would deny it if Steve ever dared to take pride in convincing him to do so, but he’d also be damned if he didn’t at least try to find out if you felt the same.
❁ ❁ ❁
There was a burly-looking stranger standing at the counter when Bucky entered your shop. He had willed the traitorous voice in his head to silence all the way here. But now that he saw the handsome older man taking all your attention to the point you hadn’t even noticed him stepping in over the customer's broad shoulders, the heat began to bubble up again.
Bucky wanted to tell himself you wouldn’t prefer the salt-and-pepper-bearded man over him. But to be honest, he didn’t even know what your type was. Yes, you had cuddled on your sofa just the other night, but since Bucky wouldn’t consider himself an expert in anything other than one-night stands, it could have been a friendly gesture for all he knew.
“Would that be all for you?” You asked the man and handed him his chance. Bucky watched as his thumb grazed over your hand, feeling a tinge of anger starting to consume him.
“That’s all. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“I hope to see you again soon, sir.”
“Oh, you can bet on it.” He winked then turned, nodded to Bucky in a brief greeting, and then exited the shop. Bucky’s eyes lingered on the door for a while longer. He took deep breaths as his jaw clenched and the bell above the entrance fell silent.
“Hey.” A warm hand touched his arm, pulling him right back to your eyes. And just like that, the anger washed away a little. There were just you and him in your tiny oasis amid Brooklyn. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but the frown on his face probably betrayed him. “Just thought that man was a little inappropriate.”
“He’s just a sweet man buying flowers for his wife.” Your eyes glimmered with mischief when you bit your lip. “Bucky... are you jealous?”
Oh, hell no.
“Jealous?” Bucky wasn’t jealous. He couldn’t be. There was nothing to be jealous of. He had no claim to you. Even if he really wished he did. And yet that man had angered him with only the touch of his hand. That was the only thing he’d ever get. Bucky knew what it felt like to have you in his arms, how your body lotion settled in his nose, how your head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck. “No.”
“But you should not be so naïve, dove. Married men are also flirting... and cheating.”
A short laugh escaped your throat before you caught yourself again and Bucky’s heart began doing that funny somersault thing. “Not to burst your bubble or anything, but I do know how the real world works.” You crossed your arms before your chest. “Besides, what do you care if he did ask me out? Maybe it has been a lifelong dream of mine to be a mistress.”
“It’s not. And I don’t. I just think you deserve someone better than a cheater.”
“Oh, like who? The percentage of good guys in this city is disappointingly low.”
Bucky snorted, guided by the excitement in his chest he opened his arms. “Please, I could name at least five guys off the top of my head who are better than whatever that was.” His left hand flailed in the direction of the door, referring to the previous customer.
“Name one.”
“Me.”
The surprise sprung onto your features faster than Bucky realized what he had said. “What?”
Well, this was certainly not the way he had planned to ask you out today. Damn jealousy. The only way for this to not be embarrassing was to own up to it now. It was what he had come here for after all, right?
Bucky looked directly into your eyes, his expression sincere and determined. "Yes, me. I may not have everything figured out, but I do know one thing: I care about you. I've seen the way you light up a room, the kindness you show to everyone around you. You deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates it.”
Your eyes softened when you shook your head, averting your gaze to the ground. “I don’t know, Bucky.”
He bit the insides of his cheeks, instantly hoping you’d say something else. Anything that would show him there was a chance you would change your mind. The silence was all-consuming, but he kept his mouth shut, careful not to fuck it up once again.
“Bucky, I appreciate your honesty, I really do. But I don't think it's a good idea.”
Bucky's brows furrowed, his confidence wavering as your soft refusal hit him. "What do you mean, you don't know?" he asked, his tone tinged with a hint of frustration. He struggled to keep his composure, the unfamiliar feeling of rejection gnawing at him. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he searched for the right thing to say. His jaw tensed, betraying the hurt he felt deep down. "Forget it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. With a curt nod, he turned on his heel, his disappointment palpable in the air as he made his exit, leaving you to contemplate his unexpected confession.
❁ ❁ ❁
“Why, don’t you just look precious!” You bent down and picked up Sam’s daughter, Darla, who had eagerly stormed through the door as soon as he’d opened it because she wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the handle yet.
“You... I’ve missed you soooo much.” You nuzzled her into your chest and pretended to squeeze real tight.
“Come play dragons with me!” The little one squirmed and then hopped off in her tiny knight costume.
“Nothing I would rather do,” you singsonged and then mouthed a ‘she’s grown so much’ to Sam before he closed the door with a shake of his head.
“I know... she just does it without my permission. Unbelievable.”
About ten minutes later, you sat on the living room floor with a bunch of stuffed dragons, you had been instructed to play. Sam’s daughter was happily fighting the stuffies with her wooden sword and his husband handed you a cup of coffee with a smile.
“So how have things been?” Matt sat down on the sofa and Sam instantly wrapped his arm around him. Your eyes lingered on the interaction for a second before your gaze wandered back to Darla.
“Oh, you know, business as usual. The shop is doing very well... the shelters are holding up.” You smiled at her and then made a dragon fall backward in defeat.
“Hm...” He frowned. “That’s weird... I had a feeling it was getting better soon.”
You smiled tight-lipped and wondered if you had butchered it all with your stubbornness. Matt wasn’t clairvoyant or anything crazy like it. But the joke of his other senses being heightened due to his impaired vision had carried on forever. And even though you never believed in supernatural magical things, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, there was a hunch of truth to it nonetheless. He had been right about many other things after all.
“I don’t know,” you sighed and Darla excused herself to her room to ‘get more toys’. “Except for the shop, everything else seems to go a little downhill right now.”
“But you have been seeing someone, no?” Matt tilted his head and Sam squeezed his shoulder in an attempt to make him stop.
“Babe, do we need to talk about appropriate prying again?”
“Sorry,” Matt blushed, “Occupational hazard.”
You laughed and then turned serious again. “I have... but to be honest, I doubt it will have a future. It’s - I don’t know - it just seems a little too good to be true.”
“It’s been Bucky you’ve been seeing, hasn’t it?” Sam chimed in with a calm deep voice, making your attention snap to him. Your heart began to race at the mention of Bucky’s name.
“How did you know?”
His fingers lifted in air quotes “A gorgeous girl with a flower shop in Brooklyn that somehow tries to convince him to donate to Sunflower shelters? You did not make it hard, honey.”
“He... he talks to you about me?” Well, that changes things, you thought as you watched Sam reassure you with a small smile.
"More like a little birdy told me...." Sam shrugged. “What happened?” He leaned forward slightly, his eyes holding concern.
“Isn’t it obvious? I don’t want to be one of his many trophies. And I’m scared, I just made the chase attractive by not putting out immediately.” Your eyes turned glassy. “What if he will lose interest when I do.” Your voice broke, making you almost whisper the last part into the living room. “Because I really really want to...”
Matt cleared his throat. “If it helps anything... I have a feeling you are not going to be just another one-night stand.”
“And why is that?”
“I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam chimed in. “So butthurt about a girl or even put effort in a relationship that would only become a one night stand - which it is not - he wants more, he needs more. He sees a future with you. And as much as his bad-boy demeanor has made that pretty unbelievable in the past, he is changing. I just know, and it’s about time that he aims for peace and quiet and love and comfort.”
Turning your head with a suspicious grin, you answered: “Is Matt contagious? Because that sounded one hell of a lot like a prediction to me.”
Sam just shook his head with a smile, scooted forward on the sofa, and then took your hands in his. “Believe me when I say this: You are so amazing. And not even a douchebag like Bucky could deny it. Yes, he has had his fair share of women in the past, and he can be the most stubborn dickhead in all of New York City, but he’s not stupid. He knows something valuable when he sees it. And you, love, have given him the most precious thing he’s ever had.”
You held eye contact for a short moment, letting your friend’s words sink in and warm you from the inside until the butterflies in your stomach began to tingle. As much as you wanted to refuse, you had shown him love and acceptance every step of the way. And Bucky? Bucky had tried so hard to impress you. He had done so many things just for you, to spend time with you.
You just wrote it off as a means to get you to sleep with him. But at this point, that argument was farfetched. Because throughout the time you spent together, his presence was pleasant, casual, and... wanted.
“So what do I do now?” You said with determination, making a smile spark on both Sam’s and Matt’s faces.
❁ ❁ ❁
“So, Barnes is unusually grumpy tonight.” Bucky heard Tony say when he came back from the bathroom, jamming his glas on the table to announce he was listening. “Did you get cockblocked or what?”
“Shut it, Stark, or I’ll personally demonstrate your very own cockblock.” Bucky pressed through his teeth.
“Damn, Buck. What the hell could possibly throw you off this much?” Tony signaled for two more drinks to the bar as Bucky took a seat again.
Sam looked at him with a raised brow - the fucker knew what was going on. But Bucky refused to get dragged into talking about his feelings.
“I thought it was going good?” Steve chimed in, a question in his features. Steve, you punk. Shut up!
Bucky knew he was referring to the bouquets of flowers that subtly decorated the office now. First his own desk, then the kitchen. And when Nat had grown suspicious, he proceeded to place them on her desk to have her stop asking questions.
It wasn’t his doing - not this time. You had just given him a bouquet of the flowers you couldn’t sell anymore every time you met. And Bucky couldn’t bring himself to throw them out. They also reminded him of you and were a nice little distraction from work. ...Not that it mattered anymore.
“Going good? What is going on? What are you talking about, Rogers?”
“Bucky met a- ouch goddamnit!” A kick was heard from beneath the table. And when Steve’s eyes snapped over to Sam, the man just tipped his head with a warning stare. “What the hell, man?”
“Okay, that’s it. I feel like you guys don’t tell me anything. I need details. Now.”
“No.”
Bucky didn’t need Tony to know. In fact, Bucky didn’t need anyone to know he had trouble talking to a woman. He, of all people, who never had any difficulties getting even the married ones - yeah he wasn’t too proud of that... But Tony would just make everything worse. And with his patience hanging by a thread right about now, he was not willing to play with fire.
“Buck, we- they’re your friends. They deserve to know, especially if things are as serious as you told me.” Bucky just stared at Steve in silence, his gaze trained on the crystal class in front of him with the amber liquid untouched. Steve always had a need to calm the storm. And maybe, Bucky would let him do it this time.
Truthfully, Bucky couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore. His friends would sooner or later hear about you - if he had not fucked it up entirely. So, it was better to rip the band-aid off now than peel it back painfully slow in the future.
He crossed his arms and exchanged a brief glance with the blonde, and Steve understood that he was allowed to proceed.
“Bucky met someone. He’s organizing the charity gala this year and she’s the florist doing the flower arrangements.” He had never noticed it before, but ever since Bambi had entered Steve’s life, his best friend’s fable for romance became more and more apparent to Bucky.
“She’s also helped him find a cause to donate to. She’s been taking him to the Shelter she has worked at for years,” Sam chimed in and Bucky didn’t even question where he got his information from anymore. Steve and he had always been close, and though Bucky didn’t believe Steve would tell Sam his most private conversations, Sam always had a way of finding out.
“Event planning? Florist? Who are you and what have you done to Bucky?” Tony looked seriously stunned, But Bucky didn’t expect anything less than incomprehension. He had always been the only one in the group Tony could relate to and talk to when it came to women and lifestyles. Now, that very thing was slipping away.
Bucky just shrugged, uncertain how to answer. It was true: He had changed quite a bit ever since meeting you. But they weren't bad changes. He actually liked them.
Steve cleared his throat. “I thought things were going great, just the other day he talked about asking her out. And there were all these flowers in the office, I just assumed...”
“Yeah well, they weren’t.” Bucky interrupted as he felt the frustration creep back up. There were so many new feelings mixing within him that he didn’t know what to do with them.
“Well it’s good to have you back, I guess. Can’t imagine how that would’ve turned out.” Tony’s hand landed on Bucky’s shoulder, who immediately brushed it off.
“What do you mean ‘turned out’?”
His head swayed from left to right and his hands turned outward. “Well, we all agree it would have never worked out right? You’re not the one for relationships and she was clearly using you for that charity money.”
What the actual fuck?
“You don’t know her. So don’t you dare assume anything about her.” Bucky sprung up, his hands hitting the table with a thump. “Dove has the kindest, most beautiful soul on this earth.” He wouldn’t let Tony, of all people, insult you. Not you. Not his dove. And, yes, maybe it also hurt a little that his friend did not believe Bucky could change for something truly important. And maybe it scratched his ego that this might have been the reason for your rejection the other day. But all of that seemed unimportant now.
“Look at you growing all protective.”
“Tony.” Steve’s condescending tone rumbled over the booth.
A look at Tony and Bucky wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Another look at Sam, whose eyes had grown soft with empathy. And one last look at Steve, who’d only wanted him to be as happy as him. Damn it.
“You wouldn’t fucking know what I’m talking about, Stark.”
And then he stormed out of the Ironbar and into the night, head fuming, heart racing, and only one thing on his mind.
❁ ❁ ❁
You were pretty sure Bucky would have kicked your door down had you not opened it the second time he wrapped his fist against it. Now he was standing in front of you, cheeks reddened from the cool night air, chest rising with deep breaths, but still devilishly handsome.
“Hey, Bucky!” You smiled until you noticed the irritated look in his eyes. “What are you doing here?”
He seemingly ignored you, stepping into your home and then turning once you closed the door. “Do you think I can change?”
“What?”
“Do you believe I could change? That I could become the person you would date?” His eyes were pleasing, his head cocked to the side - fidgedy.
“Is... is this about the other day?”
Bucky looked nervous, vulnerable even. “Just answer my question, please.”
“I believe everyone has the ability to change. But I also know not everyone wants to.” You looked at your hands, suddenly feeling a bit awkward.
“Then why... why do you think I haven’t. Through all the times we’ve gone to the shelter, through all the conversations. I’ve never had that with someone before... what I have with you.”
There it was. You knew you had to talk to him about it sooner or later. Sam and Matt had suggested as much. You just didn't know it would be this soon.
“Bucky, I just don’t want to end up as one of the women passing you on the street, throwing side eyes at the newest one you’re having on your arm.” Yeah... that encounter had been a rather awkard one. Not to mention how nervous you were that night, hopig Bucky had only played it cool in order to protect you.
“See, but that wouldn’t happen to you, dove. It wouldn’t. Because I realized that you are the reason that makes me want to change.” Bucky's gaze softened as he spoke, his tone gentle yet resolute he stepped closer. “I'm not perfect, but I promise you this: I'll always try my best for you. So, yeah, maybe it's a long shot, but I think I could be good for you. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd love to show you.” He took your hands in his, then closed his eyes and came even closer. “I know I'd treat you right.”
Throughout his confession, your gaze never faltered from his face. You could feel the desperate honesty in his tone, in the way his hands lightly trembled. He was scared, and he lay that emotion in your hands - for you to do whatever you needed with it.
Your voice was shaky when you answered, a light hue of shame fogging the question on the tip of your tongue. “But how do I know...?” That this is not what you’re telling every woman in this godforsaken city?
But Bucky understood. Because apparently that pull you'd had toward him had been there for a reason. “Because the things you make me feel scare me.” His face was mere inches from yours now, you could see every speck of color in his irises. “They scare me because I’ve never felt them before. Every time I’m not with you, I think of you. In every situation I am in alone, I imagine how much more exciting it would be with you in it. I’m going crazy. I’m lost without you, dove.”
A single tear ran down your face at his confession. This moment felt so raw, his words so sincere. But most importantly, it made your heart pound with excitement.
“Will you be mine?” His forehead leaned against yours, his hands moving up your arms and to your neck. “Please say yes,” he whispered and his breath tickled your nose.
He just felt so right. Bucky felt right in your home, in your arms, in your life. “Yes.” You finally answered and as soon as the syllable left your mouth, his lips came crashing onto yours.
Within seconds, Bucky had you pressed against the door. His hands held your face lovingly, his hands warm and big on your skin. The kiss was deep and so unbelievably pure, it punched the breath from your lunges the second your lips connected. And suddenly you knew that Bucky’s words held far less emptiness than you had feared. Nobody could kiss like this and not be sincere. At least you hoped it to be true because once you’d gotten a taste, you knew you would never want to try anything else. You could get drunk off him. Forever.
Your hands wandered beneath Bucky’s coat, settling in the warmth of his back beneath the thick wool and feeling the muscles ripple when he pulled you even closer.
You sighed into him because the moment felt so right, so perfect, so tailored to the two of you and Bucky brushed his tongue over your bottom lip. The tingle from the gesture traveled down your spine. Before you could hold yourself back, you let his touch swallow you whole.
❁ ❁ ❁
Bucky moaned, a feeling so warm and enjoyable taking over his body with every breath you stole from him. He had wanted for this to happen for weeks. And the real thing did not disappoint.
Your hands roamed his back until they hooked onto his shoulders and began shrugging off his coat. He tried hard to keep your lips on his during the action, not wanting to miss a single moment without them anymore. You were here, you were his, and it was perfect.
“Bucky,” you whimpered when his thigh made its way between your legs. A move so instinctually feeling for him. But all the other women he’d been with before only seemed like practice now. Preparation to be the best lover you’ve ever had and ever will have. Because you were the real thing, the grand prize, the best person to ever happen to him.
You ground down on his legs in rhythmic motions, Bucky could feel the heat seeping through his expensive dress pants and it made him feel even hotter. He pushed his leg higher, reveling in the sounds that came from your lips and the very knowledge he was the one providing this pleasure. There was nothing more exhilarating.
But still, it wasn’t enough. “There are too many layers of clothes between us, dove,” his wet breath brushed against your cheek as he pulled his thigh back for you to take off your jeans.
“You’re so right.” You grinned and then pulled them down in one swift motion only to reveal a pink pear of panties underneath.
In an instant, his body was pressed to yours again, his lips attaching to yours like magnets - he couldn’t get enough of the taste of you. But instead of placing his leg right back to get you that delicious friction, his hand began traveling down your front until it disappeared in your underwear.
If you were any other woman, Bucky would’ve gone down on you. He would have dropped to his knees and eaten you out because he knew it was the fastest way he’d make you come. And he took pride in the fact that the women he was with always had at least one orgasm more than him. But he didn’t do so with you.
Why?
Because Bucky Barnes got high off of your lips, and he couldn’t possibly imagine not seeing your face, feeling your mouth shape in a silent scream when he would make you come for the first time.
So his hand had to do for now. His fingers slipped past the thin pink cotton and over your mound to gather your slickness. He gasped when he reached your heated core. “You’re so wet for me, love. So ready.” He pecked the corner of your lips. “So perfect.”
“Yes!” You whined and pressed your pussy into his touch. Bucky immediately started to trace circles on your clit. He took his time to find the motions with which your breath staggered, or your fists clenched in his shirt. With every whimper, every stroke of his hand, he felt his dick strain his pants a little more - the aching exciting him for when he could finally sink into you.
“Shit, don’t stop. I’m so close.”
“I don’t plan on ever stopping.” He growled into your mouth, his hand movements becoming more frantic, the wet noises filling your apartment. Frankly, Bucky didn’t believe he could ever stop giving you pleasure and having you writhe in his arms with deep sighs. Not until he knew how you sounded cumming on his hand, on his face, on his dick, on the sofa, on the bed, and every other surface he could possibly imagine. Your body was like ecstasy.
Your walls began to clench around his fingers, every drag becoming harder as he imagined his cock being squeezed by you instead. “There you go, Baby. That’s it.”
“OH MY GOD!” You screamed as your hand pulled on his hair, your body growing rigid with pleasure and Bucky kissed every curse word from your lips.
After a minute, he slowly pulled his hand back, the other caressing the skin on your cheek. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his eyes boring into yours in genuine concern.
“Are you kidding? I’m more than okay. That was incredible.” Bucky couldn’t help the small chuckle from leaving his lips at your praise.
“You look really fucking pretty when you come.”
“I’m glad. Because I want you to make me do it again.” You kissed his cheek. “And again.” And then you gently stroked his cock through his pants. “And again.”
And the second you said that Bucky pulled you onto the floor with him. He took his time removing your clothes, kissed the trial of your bra strap all the way down your shoulder, licked and bit at your hips all the way down to your ankles where he finally pulled off your underwear and pressed his lips to the soft skin of your leg. And when you were fully naked, he paused. Bucky’s eyes roamed your body, taking in every divot, every mark and curve of yours.
He sat back on his haunches, his head getting dizzy when the butterflies took over. “God, you’re so beautiful,” Bucky softly wheezed, his hand slowly stroking your leg as you lay spread out in front of him.
“Come here.” You gestured with your arms open, welcoming him in your embrace with a wide smile. Bucky supported his weight with his arms on either side of your head and let your hands bury in his hair. He closed his eyes letting the warmth of your touch overtake him. Your thumbs stroked over his brows before you whispered: “Look at me.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I doubted you. I feel the appreciation in the way you talk to me and touch me. It was unfair of me to assume you are your reputation.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s not like I made it easy for you to believe me.”
You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Well, I do now.” Your eyes locked with his and a new fire lit within them.
“Good.” He smirked and then rolled you over so that you were straddling his waist. The cool wooden floor hit his bare back as you had bunched his shirt up on the way, now pulling it over his head and revealing your satisfied stare when your hands traced over his abs.
You shook your head and released a breath. “Shame on me for refusing this for so long.” Your fingers passed his happy trail and began working on his belt. Bucky’s thumbs stroked your thighs as he watched you undress him, the tent in his pants ever so present and growing with every brush of your fingers.
“Don’t worry, dove. We have all the time in the world to make up for it.” When his pants were off he pulled you forward again, kissing you ferociously. “‘Cause I’m not planning on leaving.”
You smirked and ground down on his cock, interrupting his speech and ripping a guttural sound from his chest.
He had been holding back. Ever since you'd dragged him into that shelter, he had not touched a woman, because you had him hooked the second you had taken his hand on the way. And now he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from coming in his boxers like a school boy.
“Are you getting nervous, Bucky?” You grinned and moved again to tease him a little more.
“Can you blame me?” He clenched his jaw when you rocked forward again, his hand stilling your hips with a near-bruising grip. “I’ve wanted you ever since I stepped foot in your shop.”
“You did?” Your head cocked to the side, surprise washing over your face and his dick twitched making Bucky’s cheeks heat up.
“Yes...” He confessed only to be attacked with your kisses again. He groaned and bucked his hips up until you were a moaning mess on top of him. His hands reached around you, settling on your ass and giving it a small clap.
“Hand me my walled, baby. It’s in my pants.”
“Why?”
“We need a condom if you don’t want to keep dry-humping me.” He smirked, knowing, feeling there was nothing dry about this anymore. Your arousal was already drenching his boxers. The slick pushing him close to losing it.
“It’s okay. We don’t have to, I have an IUD.”
“As much as I want to, we should be safe...” Bucky swallowed and averted his eyes in regret. “Have to get tested again.”
“Oh, ok.” You were disappointed, he could tell. And Bucky was too. It was the first time he ever regretted all his one-night stands because he would kill to fuck you raw and feel all of you. And as hazy as your body made him, he could not ignore the fact that he did have several different sex partners before. It would have to wait a few weeks. And when he would come back clean, he would keep you in the bedroom for a week straight.
You must have noticed his misery because you leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Then you scooched back and retrieved the condom from his wallet. Bucky held his breath when your fingers hooked into his waistband. And when you pulled them down, his cock stood proud and thick with precum already pearling from his tip.
He reached for the shiny packet in your hand but you pulled your arm up, your eyes stuck on his cock. “Let me.”
“Okay,” he breathed out as he watched you rip the packet. His shaft twitched when your careful hands rolled the condom over him, another bead of precum dripping into the condom and before he could collect himself, you rubbed your pussy all over him, coating him in your arousal.
Bucky’s hands turned into fists at your sides as he watched you finally sink down on him - inch by inch, your heat welcomed him, his body sparking with pleasure all over. You moaned in unison when he was fully seated inside you, his cock being hugged tightly in your warmth - he’d barely held it together then.
You planted your hands on his abdomen and rocked forward, sending the both of you reeling. It took a second for Bucky to collect himself. His eyes closed and his nose huffing, he reminded himself of what he had promised you and what he wanted his first time with you to be. When he opened his eyes again, his hands moved over your body with determination. One setting over your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other began tracing tight circles on your clit.
Your head fell back, a vision of ecstasy and pleasure unfolding before him when he sent you over the edge a second time. He slowed your hips on his and rubbed your pussy with his thumb. He needed you to come again. And then again, and he had to hold out for that long. But the way your chest heaved, the light sheen of sweat forming on your skin, made his plan more than difficult.
It took all of Bucky’s willpower to pull you off his cock and push you to his legs. He sat up and kissed up your neck until he reached your lips. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.” He mumbled against your skin and then licked over your nipple, the other being caressed by his fingers. His free hand found its place right between your legs again and when you moaned lowly, he slipped two fingers inside you.
Your pussy was squelching, the lewd sound traveling across the living room as Bucky worked you towards another release. You were already squirming in his hands again. Your fists pulled at his roots, sending a shiver straight to his cock when you leaned his head back. “You’re amazing.” Your breath was hot, fanning over his lips only to be replaced by them again. His tongue slipped inside and mimicking the movement of his fingers in your pussy.
“Right back at ya, dove. I can't wait to be inside you again.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
“For you to come again.” He bit your lip and sped up his fingers already feeling you squeeze him tightly. “So you’re satiated when I come deep inside you, feeling you squeeze me with that perfect pussy of yours until you see stars.”
“Shitshitshit. I’m coming!” A series of curses flew past him when you pulsed around his fingers, gushing all over his hand and lap until he finished rocking you through your third orgasm.
“Fuck,” Bucky licked your juices off his fingers and his eyes rolled back into his head.
“I don’t think I have another in me, Bucky.”
“Don’t worry, love. I got you.” And with that he hooked your legs around his waist, falling forward until you were with your back to the floor, Bucky hovering over you and aligning his length with your entrance.
He couldn’t wait anymore, in one swift motion, Bucky fully bottomed out until his balls hit your ass. And when he was confident you were comfortable, he set a relentless pace. He had been on the edge this entire time. You had almost made him come just having him watch you let go. But there was nothing like the feeling of your pussy hugging him tightly, your body writhing beneath his, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure and nails raking down his back.
“You feel so good,” he grunted and you just moaned in response.
“Look at me, please.” His hand turned your face. “I need to see you.”
Bucky snapped his hips into yours even faster, your walls already clenching tightly around him and he threatened to burst. Your eyes opened and fell to his and Bucky couldn’t stop his orgasm from ripping through him anymore. His strokes stuttered, his balls tightened, but he held eye contact with you, searching your hand behind his back to lock your fingers with his.
The white pleasure exploded within him, elevated by your own peak hitting with full force. He kissed you then, feeling like he was somewhere between heaven and your living room floor. His mind was consumed by you, his body tingling in aftershocks as he rocked you through your highs.
His damp chest fell into yours when you came down. He rolled on his back, taking you with him, pressed deeply into his body, his cock still buried inside you. Bucky’s chest was heaving, the last remnants of pleasure sparkling in his nerves. He kissed your hand and cuddled you closer.
This was what he was made for. To be with you, to be consumed by your affection and warmth.
He smoothed over your head and felt your lashes flutter on his skin. His heart was blooming with contentment - all the fear he’d felt to commit was miles away, lost somewhere between the Ironbar and your doorstep. There was nothing he was more sure of.
“Let me do this right. Let me take you out.” He whispered into your hair with a smile, trying to remember a time he’d ever been this happy.
You snorted as your hand gently stroked over his chest. “Bucky, you’re literally ballsdeep inside of me right now.”
Bucky chuckled as well, his hand rubbed down your bare back in a soothing motion when he kissed your head. “Nothing like a convincing argument, huh.”
You already know your girl couldn't decide which GIF to use. So here are the extra ones:
Woooow, you've made it this far! Thank you so much 💕 If you have some time to spare, I would reaaaally appreciate some feedback from you. A comment or a reblog can help so much to reach more people and improve writing. Talk to you soon ~Meg 💞
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❝time will tell.❞
[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society.
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black.
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun.
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways.
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun.
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused.
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.”
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt.
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?”
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?”
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?”
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.”
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.”
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—”
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society.
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly.
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.”
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?”
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it.
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!”
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity.
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give.
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress.
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry.
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight.
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat.
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period.
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then—
“That’s Sirius.”
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit.
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.”
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!”
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.”
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either.
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.)
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.”
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.”
You grimace. “Which cousin?”
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.”
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.”
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.”
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.”
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.”
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice.
You nod.
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.”
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe.
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.”
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you.
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.”
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?”
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?”
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.”
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.”
“Oh, Harry. . .”
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?”
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath.
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly.
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?”
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.”
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?”
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes.
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.”
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be.
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.”
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space.
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered.
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved.
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease.
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open.
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision.
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.”
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears.
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!”
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.”
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.”
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked.
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?”
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations.
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?”
Were you?
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend!
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize.
Then, you find it.
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face.
It’s a space on that wall just for you.
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.”
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much.
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.”
That’s all you say before you run out of the door.
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.)
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe.
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.”
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.”
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well.
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.”
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes.
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.”
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!”
You don’t look back.
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate.
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.”
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair.
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.”
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you.
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?”
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks.
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?”
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.”
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.”
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater.
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra.
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more.
“Certain,” You respond, yawning.
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones.
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!”
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out.
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came.
“I know,” You say defeatedly.
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.”
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.”
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?”
“I don’t know,” You say honestly.
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora.
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—”
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well.
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.”
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.”
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home.
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order.
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips.
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.”
“I’m always right.” You pout.
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.”
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back.
How lucky you are.
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen.
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly.
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.”
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!”
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?”
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.”
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.”
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway.
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.”
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.”
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will.
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!”
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.”
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?”
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.”
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.”
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.”
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.”
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?”
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror.
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?”
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.”
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll.
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.”
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them.
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.”
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?”
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.”
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.”
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness.
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters.
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement.
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue.
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead.
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.”
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?”
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast.
“Avada Kedavra!”
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor.
“No!”
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice.
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh.
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?”
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need.
“Expulso!”
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down.
“Accio wand!”
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense.
“Peter?” You call out.
“Crucio!”
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt.
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!”
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.”
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.”
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat.
“Defodio!”
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground.
That just leaves one more problem.
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.”
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.”
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.”
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.”
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die, s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.”
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow.
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work.
You just wanted to rest now.
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words.
“Avada Kedavra.”
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms.
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man.
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.”
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely.
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?”
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?”
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?”
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.”
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?”
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors.
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!”
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.”
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.)
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus.
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains.
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.)
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by.
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for.
end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
#hp angst#hp fluff#hp imagine#hp x reader#james potter x reader#lily evans x reader#marauders angst#marauders fluff#marauders imagine#marauders x reader#sirius black x reader#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders fluff#remus lupin x reader#sunny's hp fics
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Cuddling Headcanons - Straw Hats and the Three Unwise Men
A/N: Just mulling over something sweet and something to reference back to for my own use in future writings. I just wanna give all of them some love tbh I am a slut for affection
Includes! Zoro, Sanji, Nami, Luffy, Usopp, Mihawk, Buggy, and Shanks
Warnings: gn!reader, all fluff, opla leaning for the most part but I think it can fit both pretty well, an innuendo or two
Part 2 (drabbles for each character) here!
Enjoy some guided daydreams!
Zoro
Partial touches during naps were how he started interacting with your personal space but your lap no longer belongs to you it is now his pillow
Honestly, basically any of you is a pillow whenever he decides - I don't care if you are significantly shorter than him he will find a way to fall asleep on your shoulder
For more contact, you need to be the one to cling to him but he does absolutely need to be touching you at least a bit
Once he gets used to it he’ll give you a look any time you’re depriving him of his daily intake of physical affection (the sass king will always get his tribute)
He absolutely melts like a cat in the sun if you massage at any of his muscles, could be anything as much as an evening dedicated to working out every knot he has or as simple as putting intentional pressure behind your thumb as it circles and drags along his skin
He can get nervous about kissing you when it’s not on the lips - something about it feels more vulnerable to him somehow - so if he does venture to kiss your cheek or head or shoulder or hand please reassure him with a smile or your own kisses or a firm squeeze
He gets better about being seen hugging/holding you eventually, but will never get comfortable with giving more than pecks on the cheek or forehead around the others. Maaaaaaybe the corner of your lips if he’s feeling ~spicy~
Sanji
Back hugs, back hugs, back hugs-
He’s always making sure that the two of you brush hands or arms when near each other, even after you two establish a relationship it will always give him tingles
Likes to be very intertwined when you cuddle - if he can somehow wrap around you more then he absolutely will
He is The Best at tracing shapes gently on your skin, just like with brushing hands he never tires of it because, wow, he gets to touch you! He still can’t believe it sometimes
Very good at making you feel cherished when he holds you because of the way he always seems to take his time and ease into it and constantly caress you not to say that there’s never a time he’s hurried and ravenous
It also helps that he’s always whispering sweet nothings to you about how wonderful you are, how beautiful and precious and lovely and kind and capable and special
When he wants to trap you while cuddling, he wraps his legs around you and uses their absurd strength for evil
He will melt if you ever do the same to him and he will happily be at your whims to cuddle until you've decided it's enough, all of you could be under attack but he is staying right where you want until you decide that he needs to move
Loooooves showering you with sweet little kisses anytime you're cuddling
He can sometimes get carried away with pda because he forgets that there’s anyone else around whoops
Nami
She has her legs on your lap always - sometimes while she's laying/leaning back, sometimes with one leg hooked over one of yours, sometimes basically sitting on your lap
She likes to be the one that is held and feels most comfortable with her face snuggled into something (please nurture her and that scared, lonely inner child)
Enjoys brushing the tip of her nose across you, especially across your cheek or neck or the tip of your own nose
She likes to hook your arms together whether you’re standing next to each other during a convo or you’re walking or she’s sitting next to you, she just loves the casual contact and how she can use it to be playful and pull you around or use it to stay close and let others know that both of you are taken do not even think about it keep moving along dude
She’s very weak to hugs where you pick her up a few inches off the ground for a second, they send her heart racing (bonus points if you’re noticeably taller or shorter than her and do this)
She’s also weak for words of affirmation, especially when you speak them to her while you hold each other in the quiet hours of night
For some reason literally being on your lap around others is fine but if you give her a kiss to the temple while that's happening? Suddenly it's Too Much, both in how sweet it is and also because she’s being perceived while it's happening
Luffy
Any/all contact is being had whenever he’s with you
If he’s on the floor next to you then your calf is now his teddy bear, if you’re on the floor near him he’ll snatched your torso with his legs, if you’re sat near him he’s wrapping both arms around one of yours to snuggle it
One of his favorites is leaning your backs against each other, he feels really supported and the way you occasionally lean and twist your head back to nuzzle his or give him a quick kiss makes him smile with the utmost joy
He will carry and move you around in the strangest ways - fireman carry, one arm around your waist while you’re upside down, your knees hooked over his shoulders while the rest of you hangs down, you trying to koala to his side, one time you were curled completely around his waist like a pool floaty - no one understands why you two can’t be normal
Likes to be the one to hold you so he can fidget when he needs without feeling like he has to unlatch you first, this is especially when you two are laid down and/or going to be cuddling together for awhile
PDA doesn’t bother him at all, he doesn’t give a fuck if anyone sees you snuggled up together, doesn’t even occur to him that he should care
His playfulness will come out often with dramatic “mwah!” kisses, nipping at you, blowing raspberries on your skin, and the occasional tickling
Usopp
It’s necessary for him to have his arms wrapped around you some way
Likes to be the big spoon to feel like he’s acting as armor and protecting you, it just hits the right place in his brain that has him feeling Big and Strong in the best way
He loves when you plant a kiss on his chest, especially if you aim one directly over his heart (that is totally at a normal rate plz don’t check)
He likes to play with your hair and/or massage your neck and scalp
Big into making sure wherever the two of you are cuddling is comfy, has many extra blankets and a selection of pillows by size and firmness
Always down to cuddle but feels more comfortable if you initiate first, especially when it’s a new thing between the two of you
He simultaneously loves pda and is nervous about pda but that nervousness is absolutely gone when he’s drunk or even pretty buzzed
Good at incorporating his head into hugs - hooking his jaw on your shoulder or on top of your head, leaning his temple gently into the side of your head, bumping you softly with his forehead
Need background noise while you go to sleep? He’s more than happy to hold you and turn on storyteller mode. Honestly, it’s one of his favorite things to do and he cherishes that time together
When it’s bedtime stories he’s telling, his voice is so low and soothing
Mihawk
This man needs to have his hands holding something on you (your hand, your shoulder, your waist, your thigh, your back, your ass lol),
He likes to feel wrapped around you like hes hoarding you to himself, this leads to him enjoying you laying on his chest, having all of your weight on him has him feel like he’s fully possessing you
Will definitely kiss the top of your head/your temple/your forehead/basically whatever his lips are near, not a consistent bout of them, more one deliberate peck when the need strikes him (it’s also his customary goodnight to you)
Like the other swordsman, he will give you a look if you miss a habitual touch (especially if it’s the way you usually ran a hand through his hair with a kiss to the forehead before you left the castle, that was non-negotiable it had to happen), his stare however is more the 1000 yard variety and those bright yellow eyes will bore a hole through you until you understand what you did wrong
Something about this man makes me feel his temp runs hot but not in a way that bothers him, like he doesn’t feel hot or overheated but when you touch him the difference between you two is noticeable
It’s a damn good thing that he reciprocates your physical affection, even if 70% it’s just an arm coming around you, because his stony expression makes it easy to assume that your touches are unwanted
This type of limited response is mostly for more casual cuddling like hugs or sitting next to each other because when you’re laying together his face is always soft and he’s much greedier to be pressing into you
Okay with some pda like quick and passing touches including kisses, but not a fan of anything more intimate when others can see
Buggy
The Chairrrrrr, as you’ve told him it’s circUS so both of you need to be on the throne (If he’s wanting to look extra powerful or intimidating you have no problem sitting at his feet and holding him like a heroine on a 70s fantasy novel)
He’s a big fan of any possessive gestures - arm around shoulders, back hugs, pulling you to wrap your arms around him, having you sit in his lap
He’s a cuddle switch for sure because sometimes he needs to hold you to remind himself that you’re his and sometimes he needs to feel held
Very fragile for gentle affection - please draw shapes on this man’s back, play with his hair and massage his scalp, give him head kisses, hand kisses, wrist kisses
Feels like his heart will explode if you nuzzle your face into him whether its into his chest or the side of his head or good lord his pALM (He may have literally fallen apart the first time you did that and if you’re ever in the mood for some Entertainment bring it up)
He is actually made for cuddling because if his arm is uncomfortable to lay on or starting to fall asleep? He can detach it and now it’s your stuffed animal. This can extend to literally any part of him that either of you feels is getting in the way of the perfect cuddle
Need to feel needed? The way he’ll pull you into him and hold you like you’re going to disappear will let you know he needs you
Absolutely LIVES for pda, he gets to show you off to everyone and have your gorgeous self make him shine brighter in the spotlight? Nothing could be better
Shanks
Sharing his space often means one of you sitting between the others legs, whether one is on the floor in front of the other’s seat or y’all are laying down together with one settled further down the bed, this often leads to you laying your head on the hip or stomach or upper thigh of the other
He mostly likes to be on his back or stomach and pretty splayed out, so you’ve adjusted yourself to gripping to him after he’s taken over the bed
It always makes him soft to think about you always choosing to cling to him without him having to hold you there, it really drives home that he’s something you actively want
Will grope you, sometimes sexually, but he also just likes the feeling of grabbing you, it’s somewhat of a manifestation of cute aggression
He’s a sucker for getting his neck/shoulders/upper back rubbed while cuddling (which is a pain if he’s decided to be on his back) and he is not above bargaining for it or prodding you like an indignant pet each time you stop (very good puppy eyes), this is one of his favorite perks of having you in his lap
He’s another one to not care about being seen by others but not because it hasn’t occurred to him (like Luffy) but because anyone judging him is WAY less important than getting more affection from you
His heart gets really tender when you lay with him and massage the stump of his arm and the shoulder above it because it helps with the phantom pains when he has them, it also help with the tension from using the muscles on that side to compensate, and it reminds him how the only thing about his arm that bothers you is that it hurts him
#opla x reader#one piece x reader#zoro x reader#sanji x reader#nami x reader#luffy x reader#usopp x reader#mihawk x reader#buggy x reader#shanks x reader#roronoa zoro#vinsmoke sanji#nami#monkey d luffy#god usopp#dracule mihawk#buggy the clown#shanks#straw hats#sea dilfs#my writing#one piece#opla#gender neutral x reader#gn reader#x reader
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there’s only one bed left - tengen, akaza, rengoku, giyuu
REBLOG MY WORK.
warnings : suggestive, fluff, smut in giyuu’s
a/n : they’re so cute and fluffy i love and omg k want this to happen to me so bad. also, can you guys tell i love akaza???
TENGEN
you and your current boyfriend had offered to take you on a vacation to turkey. you agreed, happily ready to see the mountains and planes of turkey. upon arrival at the hotel, tengen took both of your suitcases, handing them to the bus boy that was at the door to carry your luggage for you.
“tengen, i could’ve held it.” you insisted. he shook his head. “it’s not very flashy.”
you raised an eyebrow, sighing and giving up because there was never any good reason to argue with him and win.
you two walked up to the reception, a kind old man standing behind the counter.
“a reservation for uzui tengen, please.” tengen crooned. his body seemed giddy and the hair on his arms rose. maybe he was cold?
the bus boy carried your luggage onto a cart. you felt bad for him. no one was helping him and he was pushing a card with a total of 12 suitcases with him. he couldn’t see ahead of him but neither tengen helped him, nor did he allow you to.
you pursed your lips, hoping the awkward silence would pass by quickly in the elevator.
at the ding of the elevator, you all stepped out and tengen was gracious enough to carry 4 suitcases on his own, not even breaking a sweat.
his work out routine was rough.
upon arrival, you looked into the large spacious king suite. two beds settled into each side of the room, 5 feet of space between both of them.
tengen walked through the threshold in shock. the smile on his face replaced with a shocked and confused expression.
he threw his arms out forward, bending and looking at the two beds.
“what the fuck!? i asked for one bed!”
AKAZA
“there’s only one room left and it’s got a single queen sized bed.” the receptionist said as she looked up at you and akaza.
you and him turned to look into each others eyes, dumbfounded expressions on your face.
“uhm… are you sure there aren’t any more?” he asked her. she shook her head. “i’ve checked twice, sir. this is the only room available. there will be more later tomorrow.”
you observed your situation. would you drive through the pouring snow for another hour for the next hotel, or sleep in your car and risk freezing to death?
what could you do? because you’d rather sleep on the edge of a volcano than sleep in the same bed as akaza.
not that you hated him or anything. it was his sheer attractiveness that pulled you in. he was so handsome and so sweet and respectful, but he was also strong and kind.
there was nothing to dislike and that’s exactly what bothered you. you liked him.
so how could you be able to handle sleeping with him??
“does the room come with a couch?” he asked. the receptionist shook her head.
“i’m afraid not, sir. there’s only one room available with one bed.”
akaza sighed and looked at you. “we can stay if you’d like, or i can go find a different hotel .” he quickly offered. you shook your head.
“it’s too cold, akaza. just stay here, we’ll figure it out.”
-
just like that, you two are forced to be in close proximity together. akaza had tried to take the floor but the cold marble was freezing and you’d rather not make him suffer through that.
so your next option was to sleep together with pillows put in between you two as a barrier.
the silence was awkward.
there was so much tension, it could have been cut with a knife. sleep wouldn’t come easy either, you were too stressed … and a little bit hot.
“akaza, it’s hot in here.” you whined. he sighed, knowing it was because the hotel had racked the heater up so high and the pillows and blankets you used to separate yourselves wasn’t helping.
“let’s get rid of the pillows, then.” there was hesitation in his voice. he wasn’t completely sure if you’d be okay with taking the pillows down. you sighed, thinking with your cunt instead.
“it’s perfectly fine.” you smiled, leaning back on your elbows as you stared at him from across your little wall.
the pillows were thrown on to the floor by the both of you in a comical manner. you pushed the comforter down a bit, revealing your tiny shorts and crop top.
this felt a lot better.
but akaza warmed up. he realized how close to naked you were lying next to him on this big bed. what was to stop him if he wanted you?
his brain, of course.
“can we cuddle?” he asked. his voice was filled with that same hesitation from earlier. you turned your head to look at him.
“what?” you asked.
even in the moonlight, you could see the redness of his cheeks and the way his long lashes fluttered over his blue eyes.
“nothing, i-… i just-“
your wave of confidence washed over you as you turned towards him, hooking one leg over his waist and wrapping your arms around his neck.
his body was frigid. he didn’t know what to do. your own was excruciatingly hot because how on earth did you manage to do this?
a moment of silence and pure awkwardness passed by until his arms wrapped around you, a little bit tighter as he nuzzled his face into your neck.
“you smell good.” you two whispered at the same time. a laugh booming into the air as you realized your mistake. he laughed too, eyes shutting closed while peacocks formed at the corner of his eyes.
he looked back at you, smiling in content in this position he got himself in.
a hand trailed up your neck and as if the world has slowed down and the wind had began to blow, you felt the searing touch of akaza’s lips slot against yours.
you whimpered into his mouth, kissing back with just as much passion. he held onto your face he tenderly, cradling it as though you might break.
“i like you.” he whispered against your lips.
“i like you more.”
RENGOKU
“rengokuuuu!!” you wailed. he turned to look at you, his eyebrows knitted in concern.
“what happened, y/n?” the orange haired male asked.
you pouted, explaining to him that there was only one cabin left and the cabin only had one bed. rengoku smiled as if there were no issues. “that’s quite alright. i can take the couch!”
you shook your head. “no, absolutely not. i’d feel terrible.” the smile never faltered from his face. he was an endless ray of sunshine that kept you warm for days.
“don’t worry, my dear y/n. we’ll figure it out. don’t worry.”
-
you wondered how he’d ended up in your bed. he was shirtless, hair sprawled out messily on the pillowcase and his abs were on full display.
you lay against him, his arm pulling you over his chest. then you looked down…
‘why am i fucking naked??’
rengoku was also naked… does that mean you two?..
you looked in the corner at the empty bottle of whiskey. your face felt impossibly hot but a wet feeling erupted in between your legs at the idea of rengoku being the one to pleasure you.
still, you sat there in shock. how could you have spent a night with rengoku and not even remember it?! this was absolutely atrocious.
“good morning, my flower.” a voice interrupted your thoughts. it was deep, coming from the broad chest of the man you slept with last night.
“g-good morning, rengoku…” you replied, swallowing an awkward lump in your throat.
“rengoku, did we… did we fuck last night?” you asked him sheepishly, holding the bed spread tightly to your chest. he looked confused, still half asleep.
he peered one eye open, looking to check if he was nude.
he was.
with that, he shot up. a blush enflamed his cheeks. what the fuck..he thought.
“n-no.. i didn’t just fuck you for the first time and not remember it.” he whined, worry deeply set in his voice. you calmed him down, rubbing a soft hand up and down his chest.
“we have many more opportunities to make love again.” you reasoned. you had been with the man for just a few months, wanting to take it slow and surely not sleep with each other until you were both ready but this… this was quite different than what you planned.
“i know, but angel, this was the first time.” he whined softly.
you pulled his head onto your chest. running your fingers through his hair, trying to get him to stop being mean to himself.
“it’s okay, baby.” you cooed. “we have all the time in the world, don’t worry.”
“well in that case…you wanna go round 2 right now?”
GIYUU
“there’s only one room left, sir.” the receptionist called out. giyuu sighed. “we’ll take that one.” he didn’t give you much of a choice. dragging your luggage and his with him up the elevator, he hadn’t said a word.
you figured he was already quite annoyed about the pompous amount of rain outside. you two were traveling for a meeting and the rain had delayed both of you. it bothered him endlessly that he was going to miss such an important meeting.
you chose not to speak, not wanting to irritate the quiet male.
he set down your luggage on the side, next to the bed. his clothes came off next. jacket, sweater and a black tank top that he chose to leave on. he took off his jeans, lounging around in plain black boxers.
“take the bed. i’ll be fine on the couch.” he grumbled. you nodded, heading to the bathroom to change into something more comfortable to sleep in.
-
you walked back out in a large t shirt and panties. you figured it didn’t matter much because your t shirt was so big that it reached the middle of your thigh, anyway.
but giyuu saw. he was turned towards you when you reached down to put your phone on charging, your ass on clear display for him.
he breathed sharply through his nose. it was simply a bad idea to even have turned facing your direction. he felt his dick semi-hard.
turning around, he ignored it, choosing peace instead.
it was later that night that something woke him up. was it the rush of heavy rain? the hotel telephone? or … heavy breathing coming from your side of the room.
he quietly listened, steadying his own breathing.
his eyes widened as he heard everything that fell from your lips, dick straining against his boxers.
fuck.
you were touching yourself… to the thought of him.
the mewls were hushed, doing your best to keep quiet. the air was hot and heavy and when he slowly peeked to look over, he saw you with your legs spread. they stretched far apart as your pretty pussy was on display. he could hear how wet you were, fingers sloshing around in the mess inside of you.
“g-giyuu…” you breathed heavily. he couldn’t help but trail his own hand to his cock, rubbing it uncomfortably against the palm of his large hands.
“f-feels so good.” you whined softly.
he could only imagine. he could think of 10 different ways that he could make you cum. 10 different ways to make you go stupid and crying for him and his cock.
he rutted against his palm harder, trying to keep the grunts of pleasure in. he was so close to his orgasm, just needed a bit more, and you gave it to him.
“ ‘m gonna cum so hard,, g-giyuu..” you cried softly, the tears in your voice apparent.
then what giyuu got up, trailing his way to your bed. he pulled the covers farther down, revealing your calves.
your eyes shot open as you stopped, the pleasure long gone.
“g-giyuu, this isn’t what it looks like- i swear!” you shouted.
he put a hand over your mouth.
“shut up, i’ll take care of you now.”
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#akaza smut#rengoku smut#giyuu smut#tengen smut#akaza x reader#rengoku x reader#giyuu x reader#tengen x reader#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#kny smut#kny x reader#akaza x y/n#rengoku kyojuro#giyuu headcanons
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Now that Buddy Daddies is finished, I’m gonna say it: SPOILERS!
Buddy Daddies really is for the aces, aros, queerplatonic partners, and platonic life partners out there.
I know, 100% that there are going to be some people out there that are going to say, “See! It really was just queerbait all along” or some who are going to bemoan the fact that there were no declarations of romantic love or kiss or whatever. I’m sure this part right here:
Miri: “Didn’t you slip out yesterday to go drinking with a girl again?”
Caused some frowns and I do get it. Because of this, the queerbait and Kazuki and Rei are just friends dialogue will continue and follow the series around. But, this episode has made it clear that Kazuki and Rei love not only Miri, but each other as well.
They are a work partners (相棒 - aibou)
They are partners raising a child together. (相方 - aikata).
They’ve moved (I’m pretty sure their diner is in Okinawa for reasons I’ll get to in another post), they’ve opened a business together, one which has a part of Kazuki’s last name in it (来栖 - Kurusu is his last name, the 栖 (su) part of his name means “nest.”), and Rei’s words to his father: Miri, Kazuki, and I share a bond stronger than blood.
They are a family. They love each other.
Of course, friends can be a part of a family. Friends can love each other, but there are also reasons why people who are in situations like co-parenting, queerplatonic relationships, platonic life partnerships, and etc. don’t refer to their bonds as friendships and the people they are co-parenting or in a partnership with as their friends, but as words that give some space for those grey areas in-between.
Friendships are strong, deep, and beautiful. Platonic love is love and is powerful.
But, there are definitely still different sets of expectations and boundaries that come with friendships vs. other relationship dynamics.
Kazuki and Rei’s situation falls outside of the usual friendship expectations and boundaries and sits somewhere between that, family and partnership.
I know this topic has been talked to death about. But, I felt like I needed to write about and address it one final time since Buddy Daddies has come to an end (though, who knows about a potential Daughter Daddies!) Especially after Miri’s line to Kazuki. (I feel I could also go into open relationship dynamics, polyamorous relationships, and etc. but that feels like it would be derailing).
Basically, I just wanted to get one final post out on this. I was very pleased with this ending episode. It made my heart so happy and warm, and I know I’ve said it before, but this series really speaks to me as someone who is aroace. Aroace characters and our relationship dynamics have basically no rep, so even if this series wasn’t intended to be written with a queerplatonic relationship dynamic in mind, they ended up writing a beautiful depiction of one that makes me and what I would want from a relationship of some kind, finally feel seen.
#Buddy Daddies#BD#Kazurei#Kazuki Kurusu#Rei Suwa#ace#aro#queer#queerplatonic#platonic life partnerships#Miri Unasaka#BD spoilers#Buddy Daddies spoilers#long post#image heavy post
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Forget Me Not | 6
You are awaiting Azriel's return when chaos erupts.
WC: 6.4k
Warnings: TW: SA!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Violence, death, blood, angst, feelings, and dare I finally say some fluff?
a/n: There will be one more part!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7
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Azriel never responded to your letter. You hadn't exactly expected him to, but you still couldn't help the pang of disappointment that settled in your gut when day after day went by in silence.
You hoped he was getting the healing he needed, the healing he deserved. The thought of your friend hurting because of your words had you itching to write another letter to him, but you knew to give him the time and space to map his feelings out. It would be better to say all you needed to in person anyway.
That didn't stop your heart from wandering each day though. You thought of his scarred hands and gentle touches. The way he had always been soft with you, as if he were nervous you would think him anything other than kind-hearted. The way his fingers would brush against the fabric of your shirt when passing by, letting you know he was there, letting you feel his presence, take in his scent, as he moved in your space.
You thought about the small smile he would give you during conversations both before and after the incident. The way his head would tip forward to show he was listening, the way his eyes twinkled with amusement at your storytelling, the curve of his lips as others laughed.
You thought of the times he had carried you to your room when you had fallen asleep on the couch, his comforting arms, his protective instinct as he locked your windows and pulled the covers over your chest and toes.
You thought of the heat that would rise to his cheeks when people would compliment him. The way the pink would dust his cheeks like a guide for your lipstick, his eyes averted and the subject quickly changed despite the passion he put into each and every one of his interests and talents.
You thought about his commitment and duty and strength. The way he held the weight of the entire court on his shoulders but still managed to make others laugh. The way he would suffer in silence, do the dirty work, but pretend like it was nothing to alleviate others' stress.
You thought about every bit of him, from the glow that surrounded his black hair against the backdrop of the sun to the way the grass curled around his feet, and you loved him with a fierceness that ached.
And you tried -- you tried so fucking hard -- to distract yourself from these thoughts in the days after you sent your letter.
You began training with Cassian again. He hadn't said anything despite how obvious your swollen and bloodshot eyes were, how your shoulders hung low with fatigue, the way your clothes were wrinkled against your thinning form.
He had given you kind eyes, though, and a soft smile that told you he was there should you need it. He often snuck bars of food into your training bag or left an "extra" tea out on the counter for you. You had even noticed him peeking his head into Azriel's room a few times at night to check on you, remaining quiet to not disturb your feigned sleep.
It wasn't until a week after Azriel had left that Cassian mentioned him again. You were strapping the weapons you had brought with you to training back in place when you felt his eyes on you. It was nearing eleven at night, and your entire body felt like it was going to fall to the floor underneath you. Your skin was slick with sweat, muscles burning, and your eyes felt (accurately) like your sleep had been fitful as of late.
Cassian was quiet until you finally met his eye and raised a brow, prompting him to break his silence. He nodded to the dagger strapped against your thigh. "I'm surprised Azriel has been letting you use that."
You looked at the dagger you had been using nightly when training, taking in its intimidating design and shrugging. "He didn't protest much. It's not Truthteller."
The dagger, in truth, had been helpful. Cassian not only helped you learn how to handle such a weapon better, but he did so in a safe space that allowed you to overcome any memories from that night surfacing. There were times when your movements and grip on the handle felt so similar to that cold moment in the alley, you would nearly throw the dagger from your hand in haste. But you were making progress, and those moments when blood tainted your vision were becoming few and far between.
Cassian continued moving throughout the space, putting equipment away and packing away his things. You could tell he was feigning being nonchalant from the way his hands fumbled and his eyes strayed away from your own.
"Truthteller isn't the only weapon Azriel has a special attachment to."
Your brows furrowed with confusion and curiosity. As much as you had come to care for Azriel, there were parts of his past he had always kept private. You knew some details regarding his history and what had made him into the male he was, but he rarely spoke to you about them.
He liked to portray the side of himself he could control, the side the victims of the Night Court did not get to see: his gentleness, his care for his family, his ability to bring joy to others. Never the past that haunts him or his actions that remind him of the evil in the world.
"Are you going to explain?" You decided on asking, mind already beginning to spin with thoughts of Azriel.
You were too tired for his vague comments, and really you just wanted to shower and curl back up in Azriel's bed. It was beginning to lose some of his scent and take on your own. You didn't know how low you would have to feel before you started digging through his closet and drawers for clothes of his wear and curl up in instead.
"Just-" he sighed, placing his towel in his bag. "That weapon holds a lot of weight to him. It's the one that was used against his brothers." His voice trailed off at the end with the secret.
His brothers. The males who had set fire to his hands. The males who had laughed as he screamed, who had treated him like a test subject, like less than an animal. The males who had enjoyed watching a young boy cry in pain, terror, fear, and confusion.
You swallowed back the horrid thoughts pushing their way into your mind. Flames licking up his scars, his hazel eyes drowning in tears. "He didn't tell me its history."
Cassian shrugged, turning to face you and crossing his arms over his chest. He was studying you. What for, you didn't know. "He just normally doesn't let that dagger out of his room. I've only ever seen it on him a few times."
Did Azriel give the weapon to you for the same reason he yielded it against his brothers? You remembered the placement of the dagger in your palms in his bedroom, the way the sharp edge faced his unguarded torso, as if he was standing at your mercy and vengeance, positioning his heart to be a target for your own pain.
Maybe he had seen your lashing out as inevitable, and he knew the very dagger he had used against his own brothers could also help you deal an angry blow in return. Did he know the dagger was going to be aimed at him eventually? Did he offer it, expecting that result?
You remembered the blood that fell from his bicep earlier this week.
"I noticed you've been sleeping in his room."
Cassian's voice was gentler this time as he interrupted your distracted thoughts, as if he was afraid his acknowledgement of what he had seen would spook you, cause you to shut down or leave. Instead, you just shifted your weight on your feet, trying to not look too embarrassed.
"Yeah. I don't know, it just seems to help. With the nightmares and stuff, I mean."
He continued to study you, and you felt yourself getting slightly uncomfortable and annoyed. He was obviously thinking something but was unwilling to say it, and you didn't exactly appreciate his quiet observations as if you were some sort of mystery or experiment to document hypotheses on.
"Just say it," you rolled your eyes.
"No."
"No?"
He gave you a half-smile, slinging his bag over his broad shoulder and taking a step toward the exit. "Some things aren't my place."
"Since when do you stay out of people's business, Cassian?" You scoffed.
"Since my brother-" He started, but suddenly his steps halted, body going rigid with tension. His eyes scanned the space rapidly, and within a moment his bag was dropped back onto the ground by his feet, and he was taking a step back toward you, eyes still tracking your dark surroundings.
Your breath hitched in your throat at his serious behavior. "Cassian, what is it?"
But he didn't respond. Instead, one of his hands reached for the knife on his belt, his other arm splaying out in front of you to get you to move back with him.
You followed his movements, stepping in tandem with him until you found yourself in the middle of the training ring once again. A breeze flowed up your arms and caressed the skin of your cheeks, causing shivers to run down your body and your hair to stand on edge.
Footsteps sounded from your right, and you whirled around in fear, gripping the dagger Azriel had given you with a tightness that hurt your knuckles. A shadowed figure was approaching, followed by four others. But you didn't have time to think of an approach before more footsteps sounded to your back and more appeared, their wings fading into the black sky behind them.
They were coming from all directions, all Illyrian males, all Illyrian warriors. Swords and shields glinted in the moonlight. Teeth sharp as they sneered.
"Cassian-" you whispered harshly.
"Gentlemen," Cassian interrupted, voice tight warning. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
There were about fifty of them, all nearly double your size. Illyrian males were already prone to being larger, all over six feet in height with intimidating wingspans and muscles, and for once you didn't feel safe around the form you so often associated with Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel. Your fingers trembled.
Cassian still told taller than all of them, the general a fierce presence surrounded by enemies. He looked determined, but he did not look scared.
One of the males stepped forward from the crowd.
"My son was one of the many who died in the war with Hybern. One of the many who died because of you. Because of your half-breed high lord and his past-time of playing house with bastards." He looked to his companions standing in the shadows. "You all come here and condemn our way of life, of training, of breeding, and then punish us on the battlefield. We're not fighting for you anymore. We're fighting for ourselves."
You felt like you were in a fever dream. You hadn't even been in Velaris for that long, had never been around during the war nor seen the aftermath of the choices made. But you knew of Cassian and Azriel's power in the Illyrian war camps. You knew how Rhys tried to ban wing clipping, how they all enforced treating the females equally and fair, how the males were discriminatory toward others and often rageful and violent.
You wanted no part of this.
"No one is forcing you to fight on the front line." Cassian responded, barely flinching at the man's short speech. He was completely and utterly still, gauging each movement around the two of you. He was a strategist, and you could sense the gears in his mind turning.
"Maybe we want to fight. Maybe we are here to demand our rights back. Our superiority."
Cassian's hands twitched, his siphons gleaming. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
His cold voice was nothing like the jovial male you had come to know. This was the Lord of Bloodshed ready to split the males in front of him in half, a warrior basking in the calm before blood would rain down around him.
"And why not?" The male laughed. "It is only you here. You and this pet. When we are done with you, we will go for that bastard shadowsinger. How do you think almighty Rhysand will feel about that? Both of his brothers put down like mutts? Think he will be willing to listen then?"
Rage swarmed in your veins, warming your skin until you felt your cheeks and ears turn red with heat. They would not touch you. They would not touch Cassian, and they sure as hell would not touch Azriel.
Cassian sighed, as if he were experiencing only a slight inconvenience. As if he had just been interrupted from a nap with a chore he couldn't put off any longer.
"Alright," is all he said, and then his strong arm was pushing you back and out of harms way, the harsh sound of weapons clashing ringing in your ears.
You spun quickly, trying to take in the chaotic space around you. Males were moving in all directions, and before you could think, you were throwing your dagger at the closest body you could find. The edge hacked into the center of his pale forehead, his body crumpling to the ground immediately.
Dodging another male grasping at you, you slid on your knees to collect your weapon, gathering up the fallen male's sword at the same time. It was heavy in your grip, but it was better than only having one weapon to arm yourself with.
"Come here, birdy." A voice cooed.
You vaguely registered red light flashing in the corner of your eye, the color flickering and absorbing in the sky. It lit up the armor of the Illyrians, and despite the pounding heart in your chest, despite not knowing if you would survive tonight, you found the sight beautiful.
You faced the male, his rotten teeth dirtying his smirk as he took you in. A few others joined him, forming a line in front of you. Raising the sword in your grasp, you held your chin up.
"Don't call me that."
They took their time observing you, as if you were a mouse in their game -- a treat they had hoped would be present at their meeting.
"Bad timing, girl. We don't have to hurt ya, though. Why don't you just come with us, yeah?"
The male to his left winked at you, and you felt your palms become damp with sweat. No, you would not be doing this again. You would not allow another male to put his hands on you again.
"I'd rather the Cauldron boil me alive."
And then you were swinging, the sword coming down with a mighty clang against the male's own. The resistance reverberated up your arm, through your bones, and you gritted your teeth at the pain. But you pushed forward, attempting to unbalance him with your steady stance.
The male to his right went in with a knife of his own, and you ducked out of the way, instead swinging low with your sword and slicing the legs of the male you had been up against. He cried out in anger and pain, and you couldn't help the smile that creeped onto your face at the noise. You wanted him to choke on that pain, on those cries.
As he fell and gripped his calves, you quickly made work of his throat, slashing through the skin in a swift movement, barely even taking the time to think before you flung the dagger with your other hand into the male to your right, the tip latching into his neck.
The last male roared, pushing you off your balance until you tripped and had to steady yourself, your sword pointed toward the ground.
He swung with his own, point aimed toward your chest, and you hurried to block the action. You had no armor to defend yourself, just your brief training and your will to live.
The male kept swinging, his strength and weight being thrown into each movement, pushing you back farther and farther. Each block you threw up only dug your feet deeper into the ground, only destabilized you, only made your arms sting with fatigue.
You were panting, grunting, trying to hold your own.
And then the male was half exploding away from you. Red light and energy threw his body from yours, sending him spiraling to the ground feet away. His armor looked melted, and you could only allow yourself a brief moment of relief before you searched for Cassian.
He was still fighting the other males. Plenty of other males, as the majority went straight for their target rather than you. Red surrounded him, his sword sparkling, dark hair gracefully blowing with each jab. He didn't even look winded. There were twenty males surrounding him, and about the same amount scattered on the ground limp and bloodied.
His movements were clean and precise. As if he were made to do this, his body glided in a beautiful dance that left males to drop before him. If blood had not been coating your vision, it would almost seem as if they were dropping to their knees in reverence.
You shook yourself out of your stupor, hefting up the sword and your dagger and moving forward again into the action.
You were steps away from another Illyrian, his brown eyes locking on your own, when blue blinded your vision.
Like lightning rocking the ground underneath you, a beam of cobalt shot from the sky, sending the earth trembling under your feet. The noise roared in your ears as you tried to keep your footing, blinking away from the bright light.
Your veins hummed, your skin tingled.
Because coming out of that bright blue light, eyes glowing like a god, was Azriel.
His wings were flared, taking up as much space as three Illyrians as he marched toward them, his towering form enough to make you want to fall to your knees in worship.
Light shone on his face, cutting his sharp cheekbones with the blue of his siphons. He looked angelic, and beautiful, and like the savior you dreamed about.
Your chest pulled you toward him, but your movements were halted by cold tendrils snaking around your wrists, pulling you backward.
You almost shouted, but then you realized as a grunt sounded in your ear what was happening. Azriel's shadows were back. They were back by your side and they were helping you. You could have wept with joy feeling the silky bands kissing your skin.
They pulled you out of the way of one of the Illyrians, his punch missing your head as you dodged. You didn't even have time to plunge the dagger toward his eye before the shadows were swarming the male, flowing into his nostrils, ears, mouth and eyes, until blood was flowing out of them, jaw hanging open and body going limp.
You gasped in shock as the male fell to your feet, choking and suffocating on his own internal bodily matter.
Trying not to gag, you pulled your gaze up to Cassian and Azriel fighting back to back. Flashes of red and blue lit up the sky, and you went to move closer, but the shadows held you back. They swarmed your ankles, your calves, and held you in place. Some lingering shadows skimmed the rest of your body, searching the open skin for wounds.
When the last of the males fell, the shadows released you, and you stumbled at the sudden freedom.
Then you were rushing toward your friends, sword falling from your fingertips to lay with the dead bodies in your haste. Cassian and Azriel were talking, but Azriel's body was turned toward you as if he was paying attention to you both at once -- and you supposed he was, what with his shadows monitoring your every movement and breath.
But then he couldn't focus on Cassian, couldn't say anything else, because you wouldn't let him. You didn't care if he shoved you off of him, you didn't care if he took both of your shoulders in his scarred hands and threw you to the ground, not as you flung yourself into his torso, the wind knocked out of your lungs with the force.
He caught himself with one step back, his arms going to catch you against him despite his shock. His body was tense with surprise, but you didn't care, not as you grasped his leathers, not as you breathed in the smell of him, not as you basked in the fact that Azriel was back after you were scared he would never see or talk to you again.
Your breath was shaky as you listened to his heartbeat underneath your ear. His arms tightened around you, and you felt as seconds ticked by before gentle fingers tangled in your hair hesitantly.
Still, he did not say a word.
You would take this moment, savor it, knowing it could be your last chance at any kind of intimacy, at any kind of care and love with Azriel before everything came crashing down again, before reality and all you had both said and done disrupted what could have been.
You could hear Cassian’s footsteps fading in the distance, but the sound was muffled as you attempted to get closer to the shadowsinger, gripping him tighter, burying your face deeper into his hard strong chest.
He was so warm against you, and the contrast of that heat against the cool shadows weaving around you had you nearly gasping.
Tears were in your eyes before you could control your emotions, knowing how embarrassing this was. You had pushed him away for months, made him crawl for your forgiveness, but as soon as you were the one to make a mistake, you couldn’t handle it. You were just so glad he was home. So glad he was here in front of you so you could apologize, and feel whole again with him near. You hadn’t realized how empty you felt with him gone-
“Are you okay?” His rough voice cracked above you, barely audible above the wind.
You nodded against him, trying to compose your feelings before reluctantly releasing him and taking a step back. His fingers trailed after you as if by instinct, and you cleared your throat in an attempt to distract yourself from touching him once again.
“I’m okay,” you reiterated, hands tangling together in nerves. He looked you up and down, brows furrowed as if he didn’t quite believe you, as if he needed to give you a thorough inspection. “Are you?”
“Fine,” he quietly spoke. And you could tell that he was. He didn’t even look like he broke a sweat going up against the remaining Illyrians, which made your worry for him even more embarrassing.
“I didn’t…” you swallowed, sorting through your jumbled thoughts. “What are you doing back?”
His gaze was soft but guarded. Your heart thumped in your chest painfully at the contrast to how he looked at you just a week or two ago. You had hurt him enough for those walls to go back up, and you also couldn’t ignore the hurt you had felt (even if you were trying your hardest to forget it).
Instead of answering your question, Azriel said, “We should talk. After I check in with Rhys.”
“Right.” You nodded, rubbing your palms on your pants, the fabric clinging to your thighs. “That’s probably more important.”
Azriel just looked at you though before muttering, “Not more important.”
You hated the tension, the uncertainty, and if not for the adrenaline in your veins, you were sure you would have started crying again.
“I’ll come find you after.”
You nodded, and he gave you a short one in return, sending his shadows to stay with your form once again. They twirled around you, as if to make up for their master’s lack of visible excitement, and you tried to let them warm the anxiety overwhelming you.
And then he was winnowing you back to the House of Wind, only allowing the darkness to envelop him again once you were secure behind its wards.
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You waited for Azriel all night.
The clock ticking on your wall seemed to mock you, and you wondered if he was already in his room hiding from you, or if he had decided to not return to you to talk after all.
You wouldn’t blame him for changing his mind, but the thought still caused your heart to twist in your chest. You had so much to say, so much to just let out into the open, that if he ended up not wanting to talk, you thought it would probably end up weighing you down to your grave.
Sighing, you wrapped a blanket around your bare shoulders to shield your nightgown-clad form from the cold, stepping out onto one of the balconies at the House of Wind. You couldn’t go lay in Azriel’s room, and you weren’t going to be able to rest in your own. So, you sat along the edge of the balcony, pulling your knees to your chest and wrapping the blanket tight as could be around you.
Shadows rested on your shoulders and by your hips, silently keeping watch around you. Their presence was calming as you looked over the night sky.
You remembered sitting in this exact spot months before, smiling to yourself as you compared your life in the Hewn City to where you had come here in Velaris. So much had changed then, and even more now.
You missed the ease of being around your friends and around Azriel. And it frustrated you, because you knew you would be happier with him around again, but you didn’t know what was right to do. What was correct?
Your heart ached for him even more now than it did months ago, as if a tether was pulling you to him, begging you to become one as it was always meant to be. And you knew that feeling of completion in your soul would finally come when you two could move forward again, but you didn’t even know what that meant, if it was possible, if he’d want that-
“You’re going to catch your death out here.”
Your head whipped around so quickly at his voice, you were surprised he didn’t laugh.
“Azriel,” you breathed.
“Why don’t we go inside?” He nodded to your bundled up form. He made no move to help you stand, instead keeping his hands shoved into his pockets, body held tight with tension.
You stood in a hurry, clutching the blanket to your shivering form before making your way over to his tall frame and past the open door.
He followed you quietly as you sat down on one of the couches, shutting the door behind you two. He didn’t immediately take a seat, instead watching as you got comfortable (as comfortable as you could be with all of the anxiety coursing through you), before walking around one of the chairs and lowering himself down into it. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned forward, scarred hands clasped together and holding his attention.
He seemed much more unaffected than you. But you both had been affected by what had happened to you for months, and you understood he was probably exhausted, probably done putting energy into this situation, into you.
“I have so much I need to say.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice came out so insecure.
He only looked at you expectantly — not cold nor mean, but open and listening, his hazel eyes nonjudgemental.
“I want to tell you everything,” you started. “From before that night to what happened and how I was feeling after. But please, Azriel, please know I will never forgive myself for the words I spoke to you last week. I am so sorry. So so sorry. I meant none if it.”
Your voice shook with your tears, and you immediately wiped them away before they became too obvious to the spy.
He was silent, and you felt that thing in your chest crack further.
“You are the most honorable and lovable person I have ever known. Any words indicating otherwise were spoken from a place of hurt and anger and are completely untrue. You give your safety up daily to protect others, you have done nothing but try to make life better for those that you can. You have a good heart and a kind soul, and you are a way better person than the world deserves — than I deserve.”
Azriel shook his head at your words. “You deserved more than what happened to you. Than what I did.”
“I think we both made mistakes.”
His silence unnerved you, and you found yourself scrambling. “I understand if you don’t forgive me, if you don’t want to be around me anymore. I can find another place to live in Velaris… or I can go back to the Hewn City-”
“Hewn City?”
“This is your home— has always been your home. I’ve only been here recently. I can go wherever you need me to.”
“I want you to stay here.”
Your eyes met his hazel ones, and you could see a crack in the walls he had built up, the panic and emotion seeping through.
“I don’t know what I’d do if you left.” The words came out like a confession, like he hadn’t actually intended you hear them.
“I don’t want to leave you,” you admitted. “I hate this.”
“I do, too.”
Your fingers gripped the blanket tighter around you, pulling it until it held you with makeshift protection.
“I had never been more afraid than I was that night,” you told him, not able to quite make eye contact while talking about this. “But it was worse because it was you who forgot me, who didn’t think of me.”
He flinched at your words, and you hurried to explain.
“I’ve been in love with you for so long, Azriel. I put expectations onto you that you didn’t even know were there. It was unfair of me to put myself above Elain, to demand your protection and your thoughts as if I was entitled to them.”
“You are entitled to them,” he said forcefully, pulling your eyes up to his own.
You shook your head, giving him a sad smile. “I know you care about me. You’re a loving person. But that doesn’t mean I can punish you for not loving me as much as I wish.”
“Stop, please.” He squeezed his eyes shut as if he was in physical pain.
You waited for him to collect himself, to sort through his thoughts and emotions. His jaw was clenched, his fingers trembling, and you found comfort in the evidence that you weren’t the only one feeling nervous and uncertain.
“I never want to hear you excuse what I did that night again. Do you understand?”
He took a deep breath at your silence before continuing. “You are not someone to be forgotten, to be left behind. I will do everything in my power to convince you of that until I am dust to this planet.”
Your eyes watered with his words, but you let him keep going, getting the words off his chest.
“And you are entitled to my protection and thoughts. You are entitled to every part of me. You are my mate, and I will thank the Cauldron every day for blessing me with you even if you do not return the sentiment nor want to act on it any longer.”
Mate.
He was your mate.
Holy gods.
You thought of the pull you always felt toward the shadowsinger, the comfort you felt in his arms, the soothing scent of his sheets and clothes. You thought of the way he always seemed to know what you needed, how you were hyperaware of his presence and touch, the feeling of incompletion when he was away.
“Azriel…”
“I’m not sure where we go from here. I know that I will beg for you, on my hands and knees, daily for the rest of my life. I know that I will do what I can to help you through any trauma I caused, to earn your trust back. I know that I have fallen in love with you in the past few months, even before that without realizing. But I also know that I have done you wrong, and that I cannot change the past nor the hurt you endured.”
Your lips trembled, and you tried your hardest to keep looking into his hazel eyes, but you could feel it. The bond, the pain centered in both your chest and his own. The love and care he felt traveling into you, lighting that hallow space up and filling it until you felt him.
“Will you forgive me for the terrible things I said?” You asked, matching his own vulnerability. “Will you allow me to convince you of your worth and heart?”
Something sparked in your chest at the words, and his hopeful brown green eyes met your own.
“You’re already forgiven.”
You could barely hold in a sob at his words, and then he was slowly moving toward you. He let you see each of his actions, as if he expected you to shove him away, to have him give you space like you had the last two months.
But as soon as his hands brushed back the hair from your face, cupping your jaw, you were lunging toward him. Your arms encircled his neck, gripping tight tight tight, bringing him as close to your body as you could. His hand cradled the back of your head to his neck, his own nose nuzzling into the side of you.
You could feel his tears wetting your skin, and you knew he could feel your own cries against him, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to think about any more pain right now. Not about what happened months ago, not about what you said last week, not about Azriel’s week-long absence or the Illyrian revolt. All you could think about were his hands holding you.
“I love you,” you spoke into his neck. “I’ve always loved you.”
His fingers gripped you tighter, to the point of near bruising. And then he pulled back.
His lips brushed against your forehead, the soft gesture bringing more tears to your eyes.
“When I felt that fear go across the bond tonight, even through the walls I had put up, I thought I would be coming home to Cassian carrying you into this room bloody again. I thought I would be too late, again.”
But he had come for you. Even after everything you had thrown at him, he had been willing to put himself on the line for you and was still ready for your rejection.
You shook your head at him, your thumb brushing across his cheekbone. “I held my own pretty well actually.”
His eyes gleamed through the haunted look he had, a light of praise shining through, and then they were dropping to look at your lips.
Your skin warmed at the action, your mouth parting instinctually. His thumb brushed your bottom lip in admiration before his eyes moved back up to your own.
“We still have a lot to discuss.” His voice was quiet but rough, and you nearly clenched your thighs together at the sound.
He must have felt your body heat rising, the way you were tempted to squirm into his lap, to lean forward just a bit more, because his pupils dilated and his grip on you tightened ever so slightly.
“We have all the time now, right?” You asked hesitantly, his lips drawing you in as if you were in a trance. “And it’s late. It might be better to talk more once we get some rest.”
“Rest.” He repeated, his tongue testing out the word.
“I’ve been sleeping in your room,” you admitted, flushing with embarrassment. “Maybe we can both stay there tonight.”
“I’ll do anything you want.”
And you could hear the truth in the words, the desperation and vulnerability. If you told him to drop to his knees in front of you, he would do it. He would kiss the ground you walked on and look at you reverently while doing so.
So you led him to stand with you, dropping the blanket from your shoulders to fall back onto the couch, and grasped his hand with your own.
His eyes took in the light fabric hugging your body, and you watched them darken, his lashes fluttering and tongue wetting his lips.
“I want you,” you said.
The words were not necessarily ones of lust, but they were fueled in desire, in love and fire that had been suffocated for months. Letting them fall from your lips felt as cathartic as screaming.
“You have me,” Azriel said in return, his hand cupping your lower back and pulling you against him.
His body lined up with your own, but it wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to feel inside of him, you wanted to pull on that bond until it glowed a blinding gold across your vision. You wanted to feel his skin everywhere, curl your fingers into his hair, and tell him everything you had ever thought about him.
You have me too, you wanted to tell him. So take me.
And as his feet slowly started moving you both back toward his room, your heart skipped in your chest. His answering smile at the feeling had heat rising to your cheeks and an embarrassed giggle erupting.
Take me, you thought again. Make me yours.
He scooped you up into his arms and your mind emptied. No more pain, no more confusion, just you and Azriel and the thrum of love in your chest.
You have me. I’m yours.
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I was asked to tell more about the holidays in my legacy gameplay, so here is a super long and detailed post on the subject! 😊
How I use holidays in my game
I used to hate the holidays, cos I saw them as something my sims had to participate in and there was always so much pressure to complete all the traditions! But then I cracked it...
Holidays are a great way to add objectives to gameplay! When every day is some kind of a holiday with its own theme, there's always something for my sims to do.
I tick the "day off" box only if the holiday is a major one or the traditions would feel too rushed if my sim worked on the same day.
I try to have a lot of outdoor/traveling holidays in the spring and summer, and more home lot based holidays in the autumn and winter.
For some holidays, I add a diverse set of traditions and then choose only one or two to complete every sim year.
Sometimes my sims are just too busy with other things in life to participate at all. The No more "awful holiday" sad moodlet mod (linked below) is super useful because it completely takes the pressure off of completing holiday traditions!
It's very refreshing to use custom icons for the holidays, it matters more than you'd think! I use the More selectable icons mod (linked below) for this feature.
I've taken ideas and inspiration for some of my holidays from countless lists made by other simmers over the years.
Holiday mods
Traditions
Please note that some of these mods feature some of the same traditions - pick and choose so you don't get duplicates! Every custom tradition I use in my game is from these mods.
Icemunmun's traditions
LittleMsSam's traditions
Kiara's traditions
Renegadesims's traditions
Lychee's traditions
Pet traditions
Toddler traditions
Kids traditions
Occult traditions
Crafting traditions
Relaxation traditions
Eco-friendly traditions
Food traditions
Baking traditions
Writing traditions
A Night Out traditions
Cottage Living traditions
More Cottage Living traditions
Island Living traditions
Snowy Escape traditions
More Snowy Escape traditions
Paranormal traditions
University traditions
Realm of Magic, Paranormal & Vampires traditions
Other
More selectable icons
No more "awful holiday" sad moodlet
Holiday traditions in my game
The number next to each tradition shows which mod it's from. If there is no number, it's an EA tradition.
Spring
🌅 New Year's Day (day off)
A chill day for spending time with your family after New Year's celebrations.
Family dinner ³
Cleaning
Cook pancakes ³
Play cards ³
Tell stories
🌟 Resolution Day
It's time to make those New Year's resolutions reality! At least on this one day of the year...
Fasting
Exercise
Donate ³
Volunteer ³
Find penpal ¹⁵
🔫 Play Day
Play is the work of the child. Child sims should invite their friends over for some play time!
Activity table ⁸
Make an experience ⁸
Monkey bars ⁸
Play pirate ⁸
Space explorer ⁸
🌄 Explorer's Day (day off)
Once per season, sims have a day off for exploring the world! Maybe this year you could go on a mini vacation to Granite Falls to experience it in every season? Whatever you decide to do, this is a day for adventure!
Go hiking ³
Go for a walk ⁶
Go on a vacation or travel
Go sailing ³
Go camping ³
🌍 Earth Day
You take care of nature and nature takes care of you.
Apply eco upgrades ¹²
Give gift to wild animal ¹⁷
Island clean up ¹²
Socialize with wild birds ¹⁷
Go hiking ³
🥪 Picnic Day
Pack some tasty snacks and go on a picnic with your friends.
Go picnic ¹⁸
Invite guests
Play horseshoes ³
Collect bugs ³
Fire
💝 Love Day (day off)
Take your significant other on a date and show them how much you love them! Or stay in and watch a romantic movie... with a special someone or alone, either way is fine!
Romantic spirit
Go on a date
Out for coffee ¹⁶
Send love letter ¹⁵
Watch romantic TV
🌮 Dining Day
Today's all about eating as many different meals as you can. Taste something new or stick to old favorites!
Eat cultural dishes ³
Eat grilled cheese ³
Eat pizza ³
Hot pot ¹³
Order food ¹³
🧨 Gnome Day
It's gnomes. Just gnomes. We can survive this. It's only once a year. We just have to keep them happy. It should be easy, right?
Holiday gnomes
🧽 Spring Cleaning
Spring gives you a boost of energy. It's time to clean the house and fix anything that needs fixing!
Cleaning
Do laundry ³
Upgrade animal shelter ¹⁷
Upgrade chicken coop ¹⁷
Water crops ¹⁷
🪩 Party Night
No self-respecting sim stays home on this wild night! It's time to partaaaaaay!
Out for coffee ¹⁶
Drinks at the bar ¹⁶
Go bowling ³
Bubble blower ³
Party spirit
🛠️ DIY Day
It can't be that hard, the tutorial made it look pretty easy... Famous last words.
Build-a-bot ¹⁰
Crafting ¹⁰
Fabrication ¹⁰
Juice fizzing ¹⁰
Woodwork ¹⁰
🐇 Bunny Day (day off)
Children's favorite holiday that's all about bunnies!
Egg hunt
Socialize with rabbit ¹⁷
Baking
Flower Bunny
Give gift to wild animal ¹⁷
🌺 Festival of Flowers
A celebration of the spring turning to summer.
Flower arranging ¹⁰
Give flowers
Visit flower stall ¹⁷
Sunbathe ³
Gardening
Summer
☀️ Start of Summer
It's finally summer and you can do all those fun things you dreamed of in the dark of winter!
Streaking
Go fishing ³
Go swimming ³
Kiddie pool ⁷
Play basketball ²
🐶 Pet Day
Show your pet how much you love them on this special day!
Feeling the love ⁶
Pamper pets ⁶
Play with dog ⁶
Play with laser pointer ⁶
Teach tricks ⁶
🌄 Explorer's Day (day off)
Once per season, sims have a day off for exploring the world! Maybe this year you could go on a mini vacation to Granite Falls to experience it in every season? Whatever you decide to do, this is a day for adventure!
Go hiking ³
Go for a walk ⁶
Go on a vacation or travel
Go sailing ³
Go camping ³
🧸 Children's Day
Spend time with your children today. Take them to the park or the beach, or play with them at home.
Voidcritters ¹
Build sand sculpture ³
Games
Puppet show ³
Space explorer ⁸
🐄 Farm Day
Visit a farm in Henford-on-Bagley and get to know the cows, chickens and llamas!
Harvest animal produce ¹⁷
Harvest crops ¹⁷
Take care of farm animals ¹⁸
Make animal treats ¹⁷
Socialize with villagers ¹⁷
🌞 Summer Vacation (3 days off)
Enjoy summer to the max with 3 days of vacation!
Go on a vacation or travel
Go swimming ³
Invite guests
Sunbathe ³
Water fun
🍼 Toddler Day
Take your toddler to the park or arrange a toddler play date.
Ball pit ⁷
Kiddie pool ⁷
Slide ⁷
Tiny treehouse ⁷
Jungle gym ⁷
🎵 Music Day
Enjoy music in all its forms. Sing, play, listen.
Dancing ²
Music ³
Party spirit
Watch live performance ³
🌻 Garden Day
Does anything make one happier than a thriving garden? Shower your plants with love (and water) today, make a new garden plan, or sow new seeds.
Sow seeds ¹⁷
Fertilize crops ¹⁷
Gardening
Collect bugs ³
Plant oversized crop ¹⁸
👩👩👦 Family Day
Sometimes life feels so busy that you barely see even your own family. Make sure to spend some quality time with your loved ones today.
Baking
Family dinner ³
Games
Puppet show ³
Water fun
🏝️ Beach Day (day off)
Celebrate summer in Sulani!
Build sand sculpture ³
Interact with dolphin ¹⁹
Go snorkeling ¹⁹
Go sailing ³
Collect seashells ⁵
🍃 End of Summer
One last chance to enjoy a warm summer evening... Have a barbeque with your family and friends!
Bar-B-que
Sunbathe ³
Hot tub ³
Eat ice cream ³
Juice keg ²³
Autumn
🔥 Bonfire Night
Dark autumn evenings are perfect for a little gathering around a bonfire. Look at the stars, roast some marshmallows, and wrap yourself in a blanket when it starts to get cold.
Fire
Stargaze ³
Fireworks
Tell stories
Fire dance ⁵
🧛 Occult Night
They're creepy and they're kooky... mysterious and spooky... They're the occults and this is their night!
Alien powers ⁹
Mermaid powers ⁹
Use vampire powers ⁹
Cast spells ⁹
Use cauldron ⁹
🎲 Game Night
Play some games with your family or friends to bring a bit of fun into this dark season.
Games
Go bowling ³
Play cards ³
Play darts ²
Play foosball ²
🌄 Explorer's Day (day off)
Once per season, sims have a day off for exploring the world! Maybe this year you could go on a mini vacation to Granite Falls to experience it in every season? Whatever you decide to do, this is a day for adventure!
Go hiking ³
Go for a walk ⁶
Go on a vacation or travel
Go sailing ³
Go camping ³
❓ Life Change Day
Do something today that has the potential to change the rest of your life!
Meet or adopt ⁶
Go on a date
Write a book ¹⁵
Go on a vacation or travel
Run errands for villagers ¹⁷
💡 Skill Day
Learn something new today! Either work on skills you already know, or try doing something outside of your comfort zone.
Art & music spirit
Woodwork ¹⁰
Juice fizzing ¹⁰
Candle making ¹⁰
Craft wool items ¹⁷
🛋️ Couch Potato Day
After the toil of yesterday, take it easy in good conscience today. It's not a day off, but you could always call in sick... Cough, cough.
Watch a movie ³
Sports TV
Sauna ¹¹
Read a book ³
Relaxing soak ¹¹
🍂 Autumn Day
Enjoy the crisp air, the sunshine on the colorful leaves, and cosy autumn activities!
Fall fun ⁴
Fire
Canning ¹⁸
Drink tea ³
Candle making ¹⁰
🧓🏽 Parent's Day
If you're in good terms with your parent(s), today's the perfect day to remind them how much you love and appreciate them.
Family dinner ³
Gift a parent ³
Hug parent ³
Remembrance
Tell stories
⚽ Sports Day
Whether you like pumping iron or shooting hoops, do some exercise today.
Exercise
Go rock wall climbing ¹
Play basketball ²
Play soccer ³
💋 Date Night
Whether it's your significant other or someone you don't even know yet, ask them on a date tonight!
Go on a date
Woohoo ³
Romantic spirit
🕯️ Other Side Day
The veil is thinning... If you have business with someone in the afterlife, today's the day to get in touch.
Summon Bonehilda ⁹
Summon a ghost ²²
Conduct a seance ⁹
Commune with the departed ²²
Remembrance
🌽 Harvestfest (day off)
Give thanks for everything the land has given you this year. Treat your garden, treat your animals, treat yourself.
Invite guests
Grand meal
Thankful spirit
Make animal treats ¹⁷
Harvest crops ¹⁷
🎃 Spooky Day (day off)
It's time to get spooky!
Carve pumpkin ³
Spooky spirit
Trick or treat
Wear costumes
Use cauldron ⁹
Winter
🥧 Baking Day
Get your baking supplies out, because today's all about the magic of flour and sugar! Have pancakes and coffee for breakfast, and bake all your favorite pastries.
Baking
Cook pancakes ³
Drink coffee ³
Decorate cookies ¹⁴
Make cupcakes ¹⁴
🌄 Explorer's Day (day off)
Once per season, sims have a day off for exploring the world! Maybe this year you could go on a mini vacation to Granite Falls to experience it in every season? Whatever you decide to do, this is a day for adventure!
Go hiking ³
Go for a walk ⁶
Go on a vacation or travel
Go sailing ³
Go camping ³
📚 Written Word Day
Read your favorite book in your favorite armchair, or go the library to find something new to read. Write a letter to someone, or finally start writing that book you always dreamt of.
Find penpal ¹⁵
My private journal ¹⁵
Writing skill ¹⁵
Read a book ³
Send love letter ¹⁵
💥 Chaos Day
It seems like everyone's lost their social filter today! It's chaos all around! I hate all my friends! OOPS, did I say that out loud...
Air grievances
Fighting
Mischief spirit
Streaking
Magic duel ⁹
🎁 Do Good Day
Today is all about being good to others. Make the world a better place by helping those around you.
Donate ³
Make pet food ⁶
Run errands for villagers ¹⁷
Volunteer ³
Vote for policies ¹²
🤝 BFF Day
Invite your best friend over for a nice cup of tea or coffee. Share secrets, cry and laugh, have some fun.
Invite guests
Drink coffee ³
Drink tea ³
Play cards ³
Out for coffee ¹⁶
🧘 Mindfulness Day
Take care of your mind and body.
Meditate ¹¹
Sauna ¹¹
Massage ³
My private journal ¹⁵
Do yoga ¹¹
🏔️ Snow Day (day off)
Celebrate winter in Mt. Komorebi!
Go rock climbing ²⁰
Go skiing ²⁰
Go sledding ²⁰
Go snowboarding ²⁰
Hot springs ¹¹
🏡 Homebody Day (day off)
Have you ever dreamed of just staying at home when it's dark and cold outside? Well, today you can!
Canning ¹⁸
Knitting ¹⁰
Cross-stitching ¹⁸
Practice herbalism ¹
Make pet food ⁶
🎄 Winterfest Eve
Put up decorations for this wintery holiday, cook a delicious dinner, and then enjoy the evening as you wait for Father Winter's visit.
Attend holiday ceremony
Decorate
Festive spirit
Father Winter
Grand meal
☃️ Winterfest Day (day off)
It's the most peaceful day of the year. Spend it with your loved ones.
Invite guests
Family dinner ³
Baking
Go skating ³
Open presents
🎨 Creativity Day
Get your easel down from the attic, find your old camera in the garage, or pick up the knitting needles that have been collecting dust on the shelf. Let's do some arts and crafts!
Art & music spirit
Activity table ⁸
Cross-stitching ¹⁸
Writing skill ¹⁵
Knitting ¹⁰
❄️ Yamachan Day
Travel to Mt. Komorebi to meet Yamachan!
Yamachan ²¹
Make a Tanabata wish ²¹
Hot pot ¹³
Order from Mt. Komorebi festival food stalls ²¹
Go hiking ³
🥂 New Year's Eve
It's time to celebrate the year gone by, and welcome the new one that's right around the corner.
Countdown to midnight
Drinking
Eat pizza ³
Fireworks
Make resolutions
More holiday ideas
If you want to create your own holidays, but struggle with coming up with ideas, here are some things I always consider when I create holidays.
Can you match a world with a season? Summer holidays in Sulani, winter holidays in Mt. Komorebi, etc.
Alternatively, have a summer holiday in Sulani when it's winter elsewhere, a winter holiday in Mt. Komorebi when it's summer elsewhere, etc.
What if you took the default holidays and placed them in a different season? Celebrate Winterfest on the beach in the summer!
Can you match a world with a theme? Nature holidays in Granite Falls, city holidays in San Myshuno, etc.
Think of a simple theme for your holiday (games, sports, food, animals, books, etc.) and choose traditions based on that.
Create a holiday that requires your sim to travel from world to world to complete all the traditions.
Have a 3 day holiday for a vacation trip, with different traditions to complete each day.
Create holidays for specific life stages. What would a teen or an elder sim do for their holiday?
Create a holiday for each occult type. How would a Spellcaster spend their holiday?
Can you think of a way to combine holidays and clubs?
Put two really different holidays right next to each other so you have lots of variety in gameplay.
If you're playing a legacy, create a holiday for each heir sim based on their personality, and have their offspring celebrate these holidays to honor them.
Research real life holidays that are celebrated around the world to find new ideas.
Can't find the traditions that you need in your game? Follow this tutorial by LittleMsSam to create your own traditions!
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ALL MINE Pt.1 (E.W ff)
oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader
n/a: English is not my first language, any misspelling will be corrected later on, also, please feel free to leave a comment and rb!!
Pt.2 Here
Inform yourself about what's happening and how to help! FREE PALESTINE, FREE CONGO.
“Bye, girls!” you waved to the cheer team before getting into Ellie’s car, greeting her with a small ‘hi’ and a kiss on her cheek. “Why weren’t you at cheer practice? I missed you looking at me from the bleachers like a little stalker,” you giggle, grabbing her phone to put music to your liking.
“I don’t look like a stalker... Do I? I don't,” she said quietly, and you laughed again. “Anyway, I was doing a project, and I didn’t notice how late it was until you called me to pick you up.”
She started the car and began to drive home. You were both roommates in an off-campus flat, and since Ellie was the only one with a licence, it was common for her to drive you everywhere and pick you up.
You kept looking for a good playlist while ‘Too Fast’ by Sonder was playing when a notification came in. You blinked twice, thinking you might have seen something wrong, but the message from Dina saying she had a good time was still there.
“Dina was your partner for the project?”
“Yes, why? She is very nice; I wonder why I’ve never spoken to her; she’s got a good vibe.”
“Yeah, but isn’t she kind of a loser? I mean, the only interesting thing about her is that she dated Jesse.” You scoffed. The ugly look she gave you after that was enough to make you stop laughing. “I don’t mean it in a bad way! Just saying that you might not want to hang out with her that much.”
“I am a loser too; shouldn’t I be hanging out with my kind of people?”
“You’re not a loser! You just have different interests than the rest of our friends—"
“Your friends"
"My friends, whatever, you hang out with me; that gives you some status and makes you not a total loser but a partial one.”
Ellie rolled her eyes as she parked the car, grabbed her backpack from the back seat, and got out without opening your door, as she usually does. You opened your mouth a little offended and got out too.
“Els! Come on, don’t get angry. I’ll cook dinner, yeah?” You tried to apologise, but she had already locked herself in her room. You snorted, throwing your bag on your bed and then throwing yourself off too.
You and Ellie had been best friends since middle school. You came in as the new girl and soon caught the attention of many, but Ellie was the only one who made you feel comfortable in every way. You were always together and inseparable until high school, when you decided to become a cheerleader, and that’s when the distinction between you and Ellie began.
Although you tried to make time for her or integrate her into the “Populars” group, it didn’t work out, and it was obvious that it made both parties uncomfortable, so the only times you shared space together were at parties or break time. Ellie had friends, not counting the online ones, but for her, they were more like classmates, so she barely spent time with them.
It doesn’t matter; you were going to sleep and apologise in the morning—that is, until, coming out of the bathroom after taking a good shower and changing into your pyjamas, you heard giggles and voices from Ellie’s room.
Was she laughing with Dina? How was it possible that they were already at the level of making video calls? Was there something else she wasn’t telling you? No, you were best friends; you told each other everything.
“Els, I’m going to make instant ramen; do you want the chicken one or?” You opened the door without knocking first to confirm your suspicions, and yes, it was Dina on the other side of the phone. You could see her face and how her smile slowly faded. “Oh, hi, Dina.”
"Hi,” she said softly. “Well, I’m going to have dinner too; talk to you later, Ellie.”
“Yeah, okay, bye, Dina." Ellie smiled, hanging up. She woke up from her bed and nodded in your direction. “I want chicken ramen; I’ll go shower real quick.”
She was still annoyed with you; you could feel it, so that meant you had to apologise tonight.
Your cooking skills were not the best; it was strange that you touched the stove burners, mostly because Ellie did. Talking about the Queen of Rome, there she was standing in her black pyjama pants and sports bra. She was drying her short hair as she watched you cook.
"Can I help you with something?" She asked, but you refused. You were almost done; you just needed to put the food on the plates. You left the dishes on the table in the living room. "Actually, I was planning to eat in my room today."
"Ellie, please... I'm sorry, I shouldn't talk like that about your friends." You started apologising by grabbing her hand and leading her to the couch. "Forgive me, yes? I hate that we're upset about something so small."
"Ugh, I hate that I can't be mad at you for too long." You squealed with excitement, and before you knew it, you both had finished eating and were now sharing a blanket on the couch while watching a movie. Your head was resting on her shoulder, and although it was a comfortable position, it got on your nerves that Ellie was on her phone, sending messages and giggling from time to time. It was driving you crazy.
You cleared your throat as you got off the couch. "I'm going to sleep; tomorrow will be a busy day," you said.
"But the movie isn't over yet," Ellie protested, looking at you with those beautiful eyes of hers. For a moment, you were about to stay, but Ding! Another notification caused her to divert your attention to her phone again.
"No, I don't want dark circles under my eyes."
"Wait, one thing..."
"What?"
"Tomorrow, where was that party?" you frowned at her question, confused that she's asking about a party.
"Uh... at the same frat house where we went for the Halloween party, why?"
"Yes, but can you send me the address?"
"Yes, but why? You said you didn't want to come, remember?"
"I know, but you're going to drag me anyway, and Dina said she wanted to come, so I won't be alone."
"You're never alone; I'm with you," you replied. Ellie raised an eyebrow as she looked at you. "Most of the time, I'm with you, Ellie!"
"I know! I appreciate it, but... I think I want to get to know Dina more, if you know what I mean." Her cheeks began to redden, and she had a shy smile as she looked at her phone. That made your stomach churn.
You nodded and couldn't help but let out an incredulous chuckle that went unnoticed by her. "I'll send you the location tomorrow, Els."
"Great, you're the best; I love you."
"Me too, get a good night's rest," you said, walking down the hallway to your room. You looked once more at Ellie before entering, still hooked on her phone. You definitely had to get rid of Dina.
You didn't have a problem with sharing other things, but Ellie? No way; she was yours, all yours.
#ellie x fem reader#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie the last of us#ellie fanfic#ellie fic#ellie fluff#ellie smut#wlw#lgbtq#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fandom#ellie tlou smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#tlou ellie#tlou#tlou2#snowy vee
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IN CHARACTER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT QUESTIONS .
send an emoji/series of emojis for my muse to answer any of the following questions in character! for some questions, there are fields italicized and bolded for you to fill in with the name of a person/place/event/etc in the muse's life. please remember to fill in these spaces in order for the question to make sense! each emoji is described in case you can't see them, and they are listed alphabetically. ♡
✈️ AIRPLANE — have you traveled anywhere that helped you discover something about yourself and/or about the world?
😠 ANGRY FACE — how easy or difficult is it for you to express your emotions? if you find it difficult, what do you think is holding you back?
🎨 ARTIST PALETTE — what are some hobbies that you like to partake in? do you think they're just to pass time or to distract yourself, or do you believe some of them potentially have therapeutic outcomes for you?
🎈 BALLOON — what is something you've created and/or accomplished recently that you're proud of?
🖤 BLACK HEART — what would you say is the darkest thought you've ever experienced? what do you think caused you to have that thought? have you ever planned on or fantasized about acting on it?
🏹 BOW AND ARROW — if there's something from your past that you'd give anything to go back in time and redo, what is it?
💔 BROKEN HEART — is there anyone in your life you wish you had a better relationship with? if so, how come? what makes this person important to you?
🎄 CHRISTMAS TREE — what is your favorite holiday and why?
🌙 CRESCENT MOON — what would you say is your current biggest dream and/or career aspiration and why?
❌ CROSS MARK — how would your life be different if [name of person] had never been in it? would it be better or worse?
⚔️ CROSSED SWORDS — do you have any skills that you are absolutely grateful you have and that mean a lot to you? how do you usually use these skills? would they come in handy if someone you cared about was in trouble?
🔮 CRYSTAL BALL — what is a core memory from your childhood that you think defines you today?
🗡️ DAGGER — what is something or someone you know you can't afford to lose? how far are you willing to go to make sure you don't lose it/them?
💧 DROPLET — are you grieving something or someone? do you feel like you lost something or a part of yourself with it/them?
😶🌫️ FACE IN CLOUDS — is there something you're hiding from the people you love? if so, how urgent is it for them to hear it? what's holding you back from sharing it?
🍂 FALLEN LEAVES — how would you metaphorically describe your life and the journey(s) you've been on?
👻 GHOST — is there someone or something that you feel is missing from your life? do you know if there's any way to find it/them?
🩶 GRAY HEART — what kind of friend do your friends consider you to be (mom friend, uncle friend, funny friend, etc) and why? what do you think this says about your personality?
🤝 HANDSHAKE — do family or platonic relationships mean more to you? or do they mean different things to you?
❤️🔥 HEART ON FIRE — what angers you the most? what triggers this anger, and how do you cope with it? what does this anger feel like, if you had to describe it?
💋 KISS MARK — if you had to share a romantic kiss with a loved one, where would you share that kiss and why? are you thinking about giving this romantic kiss somewhere other than the other person's lips?
✝️ LATIN CROSS — are you a religious person? did you grow up religious? does your faith mean anything to you today?
🩵 LIGHT BLUE HEART — what do you fantasize about the most often (generally/sexually/etc)? are there any people that are significant to or that you can see in this fantasy and why?
⚡️ LIGHTNING BOLT — how has [significant event in muse's life] impacted you? what has it made you realize about yourself? about others? about the world?
💄 LIPSTICK — have you had any romantic or sexual experiences that made you realize something about yourself?
🪄 MAGIC WAND — would you describe yourself as a superstitious person (someone who believes in superstitions)? do you believe in luck?
❤️🩹 MENDING HEART — how strongly do you experience your emotions? does it depend on who you're interacting with and/or the context of the situation?
🎶 MUSICAL NOTES — what song lyrics do you think most accurately describe you? your journey through life? who you are as a person?
🫂 PEOPLE HUGGING — generally speaking, do you feel very supported by the people in your life? how strong and cohesive is your support system, if you have one? do you often feel like you're at the front of the line or pushed to the side by the people in your life?
❤️ RED HEART — what is/are your love language(s)? how do you use it/them to communicate your feelings about others?
💞 REVOLVING HEARTS — who and/or what are you most grateful for in your life?
🎀 RIBBON BOW — how confident are you with your physical appearance? is there anything about it that you are insecure about? is there anything about it that you are happy about or gives you confidence? how do you think people perceive you based on your physical appearance?
🧪 TEST TUBE — if you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what is one thing you absolutely have to resolve and/or do before then?
🤔 THINKING FACE — what three emotions tend to dominate your mindset? do you know why they do?
💭 THOUGHT BALLOON — is there something or someone you find yourself thinking about more often than other things? if so, why do you think you do this?
💀 SKULL — how has [name of person] 's death influenced your outlook on life, if anything?
☀️ SUN — would you describe yourself as more of an introvert or extrovert, or are you somewhere in between? how come?
🪽 WING — if you could choose to have one superpower for a day, what would it be and why? what would you do with it?
✍️ WRITING HAND — what is one thing you wish you were better at? this can be a tactical skill, social skill, hobby, etc.
#rp ask memes#rp ask meme#rp meme#rp memes#ask meme#ask memes#ask game#ask games#headcanon meme#headcanon memes#headcanon game#headcanons#memes#mine
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★ DO I WANNA KNOW? | JB22
Scenario: in which a series of unexpected events, starting with being stuck in the same hotel room with a single bed, takes teammates yn ln and jenson button from major rivals to lovers.
Pairing: jenson button x fem!reader
A/N: no one asked for this but LAWD I LOVE JENSON BUTTON. i had to do something about it 😔 shoutout to @renarots for supplying memes and 4 am brain rot that contributed to the making of this fic and most of my other ones too
NOTE: yn and jenson drive for mercedes (i had to do this for my own sanity)
racing_news
liked by buttonnation, sebrrari, and 12,432 others
racing_news jenson button responds to questions about his relationship with teammate yn ln following this weekends rumors.
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formulawrld idec about the rumors jenson looks so fine bro
formulavettel i bet seb knows all the tea about them. sebastian please spill
webbersebberf1 🤨 surely they could have just gotten another room? they have the money for it. idk, me thinks they’re dating and trying to keep it secret
⤷ ferrarilvr LITERALLY. you genuinely cannot convince me that they aren’t dating after this
⤷ shumione you genuinely thing they’re together even with how much they clearly don’t like each other?
⤷ ferrarilvr 🤷🏻♀️ things change and honestly i feel like they’ve had feelings for each other and just didn’t want to admit it
It had been three months since the “hotel incident”. Finally, you texted him. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but you were ultimately relieved by his response, and didn’t wast a single moment on making your way to him.
With each step you take, a small splash sounds beneath your feet. Rain patters on the ground, and you pull your jacket closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold gust of wind that blows through the night. Each stride is powerful and determined - the truth is, you like Jenson. What once was a deep disdain for the man has somehow formed into a blossoming adoration for him. Miscommunications and mistakes lead you down the wrong path with him, but ever since the night of the “hotel incident” — as you, Jenson, and your team call it — you haven’t been able to see him in a bad light.
“Look, i’m sorry,” Jenson says, his expression softer than it had ever been towards you. You were almost offended, thinking he was about to try and make you feel bad, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re more than welcome to go - actually, i’ll pay for your hotel room if you want to leave, but if you’re choosing to stay, i’ll give you your space.” It was unlike him, at least, the him that you knew. He seemed remorseful and genuine, like you and him were anything but rivals. It made your heart beat just a little faster in your chest, and you couldn’t deny how strangely right it felt to be in the same bed with him. Even sharing the room was almost natural.
You turned away from each other to change, but both of you were guilty of peeking over your shoulder. Your eyes lingered for longer than you’d ever admit, but the same went for him. Neither of you could muster the courage to say anything, to address the tension between you both, and despite what should have been an awkward atmosphere, you both found yourselves comfortable in each others presence, even with the weight of your forbidden thoughts.
Not much happened after that, truthfully. Things did change though. Suddenly, his presence didn’t irk you, and you could never get on his nerves. You worked together more willingly, almost volunteered, and through those minor changes, you both came to realize how wrong you’d been about the other. Sure, Jenson had his moments, but he was sweet, a genuine and polite guy. You weren’t entitled the way Jenson thought - in fact, you were humble, kind…and how could he ever not see just how beautiful you are?
He doesn’t know the answer to that, but now, knowing that you’re moments away, he finds himself anxious. In a good way. He’s excited to see you, and he laughs to himself about how ironic that is given how he used to dread seeing you. A knock on his door draws him back to reality, and he knows it’s you. Outside of the hotel room, you wait impatiently, and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally opens the door. Instanly, like an instinct, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his warmth. His reaction is just as instinctive, and he wraps his arms around you, guiding you into the privacy of his room.
For the first time, you talked. Not yelled, not argued, just spoke to one another. It was a completely different experience for the two of you, one that you never thought would come of your relationship, but it came to you naturally. The warm touch of his hand holding yours, the somehow assuring and slightly intimidating way he looked at you as you spoke, the way he didn’t just listen to you, he heard you. And, you did the same for him. Though he didn’t have much to say, you listened and heard, and soon, you felt as though you’d only just met him, yet known him for years. Not the rival Jenson, but a Jenson you could get used to, one that you didn’t back away from when he leaned in.
It was a small, sealing kiss that he placed on your lips. One to really ensure that all of this was happening, that things were changing between the both of you, and you both accepted it, with a weight lifting off of your shoulders.
mercedesamgf1
liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, and 265,672 others
mercedesamgf1 last time in Abu Dhabi…
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hereforbutton okay but are jenson and yn dating? PLEASE TELL US
formulaobsessed ARE YOUR DRIVERS DATING? YES OR NO?
⤷ mercedesamgf1 🤭
⤷ hereforbutton okay so what the fuck does that mean
formulayn we do NOT care about jenson rn where is my wife
mercamgfan maybe this time don’t prioritize the inferior driver 🙏🏻 yn deserves her wdc
hereforyn i’m so scared that this race is gonna send yn and jenson back into their rival arc
⤷ jensonbuttonlvr NO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. i cant handle them going back to rivals now
⤷ ynsgirlie i know. now that we have them being nice, i can’t imagine going back to what they used to be
mercedesamgf1
liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 346,789 others
mercedesamgf1 OUR WORLD CHAMPION ❤️ an exceptional performance from yn today, and a well deserved win. thank you for another amazing year, @/the.ynln
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the.ynln i’m gonna cry 💔 thank you guys so much.
formulayn THATS MY FUCKING WIFE IM SO PROUD OF HER
buttonynamg MY BABIES P1-P2 IN WDC IM SO PROUD RIGHT NOW
formulaobssesed who’s here after the post race interview? 🤭
⤷ markwebba I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA FALL IN LOVE
⤷ jensonsbutton bro jenson was heart eyes for her in the whole interview and the way he kissed her cheek when she started talking about their relationship 💔 he was so gentle
⤷ hereforbutton what got me was her getting emotional about the win and him hugging her like :( i was always hoping they’d start getting along but i did not expect them to become like this
🏷️: general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse
#✩ . jb²² files 🏎️#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 smau#f1 drabble#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#formula one fanfiction#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#formula one social media au#formula one smau#formula one x you#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#formula one fic#formula 1#jenson button#jenson button x reader#Spotify
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I am kinda curious
What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'
This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. Also, this is completely gender neutral, so anyone can read!
But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!
Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.
You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting.
You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.
For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.
He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.
Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.
He was a mystery and you wanted to know more.
You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it.
His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself.
He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey.
Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped.
Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.
“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.
From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.
Gentle was the word you’d choose.
He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.
There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.
-
You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.
The conversation began as per usual.
“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.
“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.
“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.
“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.
“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.
You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.
Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.
If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.
He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.
However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.
“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.
“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.
“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.
“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.
“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.
You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.
You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.
You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.
-
A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.
You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.
As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.
-
Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.
Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.
There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.
A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.
The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.
Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.
The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.
You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.
-
Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.
His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.
His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.
“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.
“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.
“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.
“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.
“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.
“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.
“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.
The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.
“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.
“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.
You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.
“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.
And you do, you kiss him again and again.
#jason todd#red hood#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#jason todd headcanon#red hood headcanon#batfam
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Baldur's Gate 3 Characters with Virgin Reader
18+ only obviously. Dirty headcanons under the cut. (these are all the "good" endings btw
Halsin would honestly be a little in awed shock when you tell him. He'd treat you tenderly, go slowly and save the more rough lovemaking once you're accustomed to his...girth.
There is a lot of emotional connection that goes into the intimate act and knowing its his partner's first time would mean a great deal to him, he takes the perceived responsibility seriously.
Yall would have to go slow though, to accomodate the guy's size. Has strength as his dump stat yet is built like a brick house.
He's all for the game of seduction, especially if he is still unsure of where he stands with you and your party.
When discovering you're a virgin he acts the part, flirting and using honeyed words to manipulate your heart.
However as the two of you grow closer his feelings also change and he feels anxious about knowing he has your utter consent before taking things further.
He knows what it feels like to be used and wants to avoid causing you the same hurt and feelings of doubt, because against all odds he has begun to care for you.
So much foreplay...SO much foreplay. And you can be in whatever position you want, it's all about your comfort when the time comes to be intimate.
yeah she'd tease you at first, all in good fun, but still she has to get those sharp words in somewhere.
Soon enough the teasing gives way to concerned questions, not probing too deep into your feelings, but enough to give her hints as to how comfortable you feel with her.
We all know Shadowheart is a slow burn romance, so expect a long buildup while your relationship blossoms.
Lots of sweet kisses and witty flirtations, respecting each other's space until the time feels right to take it to the next level.
perhaps it's after one of your many swimming lessons where you Shadowheart takes the reins and becomes the teacher of a different kind of lesson.
She'd be asking questions throughout, listening to your responses and making sure everything is perfect and you're not feeling rushed.
Oh she would be so sweet. You know how Karlach is usually quite boisterous and tends toward the goofy side.
She'd sober up right quick when you discuss something so personal with her and she'd be quite pleased you decided to share this with her.
She promises to take it easy on you, at least at first wink wink, and she has the idea to allow you full control to explore her body as much as you wish.
Feel her heart, or at least where her heart used to be, it blazes hotter under your touch.
She might pop the occasional sweet joke, but her eyes and her care is on you the whole time.
She will ask if now is okay, and make sure to gain your express verbal permission before touching your body herself.
She is gentle at first, as promised, but it becomes hard for her to contain her enthusiasm as your coupling progresses. Remind her if you deem it necessary.
Gale, he'd be surprised but I think pleased.
He would want you to feel comfortable with him, and thus would info dump about his Tressym and the many books he's read about magic and the weave.
It's all about words of affirmation and quality time with Gale, he wants to show you and tell you how much you truly mean to him and reaffirm it is you, not Mystra, with whom is explosive heart now lies.
When the night comes, because he does prefer the romance of a star filled sky, he would ask you if you wish to become one with him.
Maybe astral sex is too soon for the first night, but you can certainly accept when he no doubt extends that offer.
I think it's pretty much canon that she beats the shit out of you when yall have intimate time...that wouldn't change on account of your virginity.
You'd tell her you're a virgin and she might not even know what that means, I wouldn't be surprised. Either that or she truly does not understand why you think it's important to mention.
She would encourage you to take initiative and assume a more dominant role, prodding you (probably with a stick) if you got too shy.
Later on, in her storyline when she becomes more of an individual unto herself, she will understand the softer aspects of lovemaking.
Then she will be more willing to empathize with the feelings that must come with a first-time coupling, and act a little slower accordingly.
Still prepare yourself for the occasional impatient "tchuk".
are you kidding, he'd be the ultimate gentleman.
He'd definitely get you a picnic and take you somewhere that smells better than the party camp and that stew Gale attempted to make for supper.
I feel like he'd be more forward than Gale or Karlach, wanting to feel some semblance of peace that your body and your affection could offer.
He'd for sure be drawn to your inexperience, feeling a sense of protectiveness overcome him. (yes yes I understand this post is full of innuendo)
Might wax poetic about his many adventures but pull him in for another kiss and he'll quickly forget his train of thought.
yes, I made him wait in line, little shit
This cambion knows how to fuck, sit down and block me if you vehemently disagree.
He finds out you're a virgin, and interested in him? Game over.
He plays the long game in all his dealings, and won't be bothered if you choose to play hard to get....in fact he prefers it. Cat and mouse etc.
He's not gentle, nope, but when you're finally in his claws you hardly want him to be.
Doesn't have the bonus of Incubus spittle acting as an aphrodisiac but has had many bedmates and centuries to study how best to use another's body to pleasure his own.
Oh and bring you pleasure of course.
no
Go play DOS2
#withers#bg3#baldurs gate 3#raphael#wyll#karlach#astarion#x reader#gale#shadowheart#laezel#lae'zel#drabble#headcanons#x tav#astarion x reader#raphael x reader#halsin#halsin x tav#shadowheart x tav#withers x tav
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 UNEXPECTED kim minjeong x reader
↳warnings: yn is a member of ive and is described as a loser a lot (like they keep coming for my girl)
for all the years that minjeong knew her ex girlfriend, she never knew the girl had a sister until after they broke up, which is insane when she thinks about it more and she still hasn’t met the girl till this day.
she remembers it like it was yesterday, on the first of december is when the hit girl group ive debuted, yes a lot of people raved about the two ex iz*one members debuting but what made more rave was the girl that looked almost identical to jimin and it wasn’t an exaggeration they had the same last name and some unreal similarities between the two girls that even had minjeong asking jimin as she seen the new idol but the only thing jimin responded with was a laugh.
it was later revealed that the girl was in fact jimin’s little sister which brought a lot of shock to the world including minjeong and a little bit of betrayal, it was weird that jimin never mentioned her little sister, even when they were dating but she never pushed on it not wanting things to become more awkward than it normally was with them lately.
it’s been almost three years and minjeong has had interactions with almost all of the ive members but she’s never had a single interaction with jimin’s sister who she learned name was yn, well not until today.
all four girls sat around each other in their own worlds with their faces in their phones, there’s comfortable silence in the room that jimin breaks.
“my sister is coming over to pick up something.” the leader says grabbing all of the girls attention, “she’ll probably stay for a couple minutes as well.” she says her eyes still on her phone while the other girls look at her like she told the most shocking news in the world.
“wait, we’re actually going to meet your precious little sister?” aeri asked, this was big news for the other girls, jimin never brought her sister around she never even talked about her, “are you being for real?”
“yeah… she should be here in like a minute.” jimin now looking up from her phone and looking at the rest of girls like they’ve grown two extra heads, “is that a problem?”
“no!” minjeong cuts in, “it’s just you never talk about her, you never even told me about her we were dating.” she says before wincing at her words both aeri and yizhuo cringing as well as awkward silence fills the word at the topic of the girls past relationship.
“well… who cares that’s the past.” jimin says looking off to the side, “just don’t jump on her guys, I know my sister and you guys are really intense sometimes.” she says and rolls her eyes at the offensive looks she gets from her members, “she’s quiet and shy and can be weird sometimes, she’s kind of a loser, like mega loser, so please give her some space when she comes in.”
loser? she doesn’t look like a loser from what ive seen minjeong says to herself, she was kind of nervous when jimin said yn was coming over but if yn really is how jimin is describing, then there’s no need.
the girls nod their heads at the leader and silence takes over the room again but not for long as a knock on the door interrupts the silence.
jimin jumps up from the couch she was on and walks over to the door opening it immediately, minjeong hears a soft voice and jimin’s laugh before the door closes.
jimin walks back to where the girls were sitting but this time with someone behind her, minjeong feels something happen in her stomach when she lays her eyes on the girl, she’s on the taller side and pretty lanky but her arms show a slight tone to them she watched as the girl she pushed up glasses up the bridge of her nose looking down at the ground not making any eye contact with girls.
“this is yn,” jimin says putting her hand on the taller girls shoulder pushing her slightly to showcase her to her members, “my baby sister.” she says teasingly patting yn who still looks at the floor.
“fix you posture and look up,” jimin says to yn who immediately straightens up and looks up at the rest of girl showcasing her heart stopping face, aeri whistles quietly earning a nudge from minjeong who can’t seem to take her eyes off the girls face as well.
“im gonna go find what you want, so just sit with them while you wait,” jimin says before sending the girls a warning look before heading to her room.
yn stands awkwardly, while aeri clears her throat, “you can sit between minjeong and I.” she says pushing minjeong over and patting the spot between them.
yn puts her hands in her jean pockets and slowly walks over to where minjeong and aeri are sitting and sits between them, she talks out her hands from her pants and plays with the rings on her fingers and looks down in her lap and minjeong can’t help but let her eyes travel down to the girls toned hands.
“so…yn.” aeri starts, “this is our first time meeting you isn’t that insane?.” the girl says trying to start a conversation but there wasn’t a single thought in her mind as well, just like minjeong her eyes are fixated on yn’s rings.
yn is silent for a second and minjeong shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling a strange mix of curiosity and nervousness as she stole glances at yn. despite jimin's description, there was an undeniable allure to yn's demeanor.
“uh, yeah.” yn responded, now getting bored of her rings, she focuses on a keychain of saturn on her pants playing with it, “jimin never talked about you guys much as well.”
“oh really?”yizhuo cuts in with a offended tone, “I’ll talk to her about that.” she says obviously just wanting to troll the leader she gets up, “you should come too aeri unnie,” she says grabbing the other girls attention that was still on the quiet girl.
“uh, sure…” she says getting up and leaving both yn and minjeong on the couch, “I’ll be back.” she says before walking off with yizhuo.
silence fills the room again and all minjeong can do is look at the girl who’s attention is still in her lap, losers shouldn’t be this attractive is the only thing she can say to herself, she’s happy that yn is so in her own world to not notice her staring.
at least that’s what she thought, minjeong quickly turned her head around when yn looked up and turned her head to make direct eye contact with her, she got that feeling in her stomach again, this is embarrassing.
yn stared at her for a second before turning her gaze back to the front and leaning her head back letting out a sigh, minjeong hears her mumbling to herself about how long jimin takes with things.
she awkwardly cleared her throat, “jimin unnie is always taking long right?” she says to the girl who just nods and brings an arm up to rest of the back of the couch.
“so um,” minjeong starts, “isn’t it weird how I was literally jimin’s girlfriend and still never knew about you.”
yn lifted her head back up and looked at minjeong, “jimin had a girlfriend?” she asks bluntly there’s silence before she quietly laughs at the look on minjeongs and it was the first time the other girl has seen her smile since she came in here, it was cute.
“I’m joking,” yn says now looking to side, her demeanor automatically going back to the way it was before, she scratches the back of her neck and angels it in a way that minjeong can see the tattoo that peaks out, “I knew about you, not much though.”
“you like tattoos?” minjeong asks, causing the girl to look at her again, “sorry, I noticed the one on your neck.”
“uh, yeah.” yn responds looking down again, “I have more, I can strip and show you the rest.” she says causing minjeong’s face go red.
“sorry,” she laughs awkwardly, “that was a joke, a horrible joke to say to your sister ex.”
oh yeah, for a second minjeong forgot that yn was jimin’s sister, because of how hypnotized she was by the girl, “no, it was funny.” she says moving closer to yn who immediately noticed and tensed slightly.
minjeong felt more confidence, realizing that she was the one in control in this situation, “from the looks of you, somethings telling me you get a lot of girls and guys ”
“uh,” yn says glancing at minjeong before looking back down, “no, not really.”
now this shocked minjeong, why does nobody want the attractive losers? the quite ones are the best she’s never had one in her lifetime so far, but yn is making hard not to want one.
“so, you’ve never been in a relationship?” minjeong asks.
“nope.”
“unbelievable.” she says leaning closer to yn, who fidgets with anything she can at the girl’s closeness.
“I should give you my number.” the girl states which causes yn to just nod, “if that’s what you want, can I ask why? she responds.
minjeong holds her hand out and yn grabs her phone from her pocket and gave it to the girl who added her contact and gave it back, “making new friends is good, sometimes they can lead to more.”
yn awkwardly laughed at the last part and put her phone back in her pocket.
minjeong opens her mouth to say more but is cut off by the footsteps of her members.
“found it!” jimin says walking into the room and aeri and yizhuo trail behind her, it’s a old dsi animal crossings game. “why did you need this?”
yn gets up immediately and takes the game out of jimin’s hand, “I found my old dsi, and I want to play on it, for when yujin unnie yells at me for having my face in my other games for too long.”
minjeong couldn’t help but frown realizing that this means that the girl is leaving now, she waves at yn along with the other girls.
“you’re such a dork,” jimin laughs while yn makes her way to the door, “you’re not gonna say bye to the girls?”
“oh yeah, bye.” she says before immediately leaving.
jimin closes the door and looks at the girls, “well, that’s my sister.”
your awfully attractive sister, minjeong says to herself, of course she would find herself being attracted to her exs sister, this was definitely unexpected.
she knew how messy a situation like this could be, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
#aespa x reader#aespa x fem reader#kim minjeong x reader#minjeong aespa#minjeong x reader#winter x reader#winter aespa#winter aespa x reader#girl group imagines
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