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unfriedough · 3 months

Note

Hey sorry if your request aren’t open but I had a thought about Zuko x water tribe/bender reader!Like three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and So he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace for her?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you

An: HEY. Sorry this took like, so long I think you requested last summer, however I’ve kinda lost most of my determination to write and this account became more of a chore than what I had initially wanted. Either way, maybe somehow I’ll be able to be more consistent soon but I also don’t wanna make myself hate writing so :(

Thank you for requesting, I really do appreciate it, hope you enjoy :)

Zuko’s nose twitched as the cold nipped away at his extremities, huddled up in a few too many jackets. There’s a striking difference between cold and cold and right now he wished he was on fire.

Your gloved hand was intertwined with his as you lead him off of the fire nation ship and onto the white snow of the southern water tribe. This trip was planned as a way to visit Sokka and Katara, but Zuko had another plan in mind.

Finally, after three years of struggling to settle down, the fire people finally relaxed and he was able to make more time. In that time, he realized he’d wanted to marry you more than anything. So here he was, in a nation far too cold for someone like him, with a goal in mind.

He had exactly 5 days (and a half if you’re counting from now) to get ready a betrothal necklace. Why a necklace? Well, Zuko had watched you for days on end in the castle library, a book bigger than your head on the table being analysed by your eyes. You’d smile brightly when you locked eyes, and call him over. He’d sit next to you, shoulder to shoulder, attempting to read with you. The books were always about old water tribe traditions, tales, legends, history, everything of the sort. You’d wanted to stay connected to your culture and upbringing - it made you who you were today.

And so that brings you to today, here, the water tribe.

“Katara!” You squealed, running forward and pulling her into a hug. You two squeezed each other tightly, excited noises being expressed.

Zuko and Sokka nodded to each other, trying to be kinda nonchalant but Sokka couldn’t hold it much longer, he sprinted at Zuko and tackled him to the ground into an oh-so-warm hug. You laughed at the site, Katara too. Zuko felt a twinge of pink on his cheek, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t really tell, but he still wrapped his shaking arm around his buddy. After a few more ‘I missed you!’s and giggles, Zuko and Sokka got back up. Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the village, you laughed the entire way, giddy from being back home here with your family. You threw a glance backwards at the fire lord, there was something very slightly off about the way he was smiling, you brushed it off as just the cold getting to him.

It was most definitely the cold getting to him.

Sokka led him to the ice on the outskirts of the village and brought some chairs along. They were gonna go fishing while they talked. As they both sat, another shiver ran up the poor fire bender’s back.

“How do you guys survive the cold?” He groaned.

Sokka chuckled, handing him a rod, pushing the bucket of bait closer to him, “You get used to it… I could ask you the same thing about the heat,”

“I’m a fire bender it’s in my blood,”

“Yeah well you learn a thing or two when your lovely sister starts learning how to bend and suddenly you’re always wet,” he cast the line, leaning back, putting one leg over the other.

“I guess,” he laughed.

They sat in a suffocating silence for a minute, Zuko just awkwardly holding the pole and Sokka staring into the sky.

“Are we going to address the camelephant in the room?”

Zuko looked to him from his peripheral, “I’m kinda nervous I guess, I don’t know what to do,”

Sokka sat up a little straighter, getting up to help Zuko with his fishing issues. He stood behind him and helped his arm into the correct place, slowly to be sure he understood.

“Just like fishing, you have to be precise and confident to get what you want, and if you cast your line just right, you’ll catch the fish,” he winked once the bob hit the water, stepping back to admire his own work.

“Not sure that’s the best metaphor,”

“Say you love it, he's been working on it ever since you wrote to him,” Katara rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you both struggled to not slip on the ice.

“KATARA.”

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, then he was met with the puzzled look on your face.

“I thought this was a surprise trip, when’d you write to them,” you tilted your head, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…needed to make sure they were free,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That totally checks out,” you rolled your eyes, getting a serious case of FOMO.

Sokka coughed to try to clear the awkwardness, “So fishing…”

“What’re you trying to catch anyways?”

“Does it matter, it’s about the process YN get with the times,”

“Since when did you fish for fun?”

“Since now.”

“I thought you hated fishing,” you were all standing up by this point, including Sokka and Zuko.

“Only because Miss Katara always splashed me,”

“And I won’t hesitate to do it again!” She bent a small stream into his face, giggling when he stumbled back.

“Oh it’s on Katara,” he paused, “As soon as I get snow,” he waddled away to get to the snow on shore.

You laughed when the waterbender used more ice to cause him to slip.

“I’ll go help him up,” you laughed, moving towards him as he laid helplessly on the ice, not even bothering to get up anymore.

Zuko watched your figure, missing the way Katara turned to look at him.

“I think you should do it here,”

“What?”

“The proposal,”

“That’s not enough time, it’s barely enough for me to learn how to carve the necklace,”

“Lucky for you, Sokka’s pretty efficient with plans, he’s been plotting since you told him,”

The fire bender smiled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Okay, maybe, but how can I get started when she’s with us all the time?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her,” she smirked.

“Are you sure this is safe?” You shivered, standing in your bathing suit on top of a huge rock, below it freezing water.

“No!” Katara, “But let’s do it anyways,”

“I don’t know, what if I freeze?”

“Good thing we have a fire bender with us,” she pointed to Zuko, who was in the distance learning about what tools to carve and what stones to use, he’d settled on one that reminded him of your eyes, and the band matching the deep royal blue usually used. He wanted to alter the pattern as a way of commemorating both elements. Currently, he and Sokka were doodling designs on the snow with sticks.

“Look at those dorks, I wonder what they’re doing,”

“You know Sokka, they’re probably drawing,” she laughed nervously.

“Hmm, that kind of looks like a-“ you were cut off as she pushed you off of the rock. You shrieked as you first dropped, then as you got more air time you changed into a more streamlined position with your head downwards. Instant regret when you hit the water though.

You resurfaced, drenched and in pain from the cold. Your fingers felt like they were gonna fall off any second now. Before you got to dwell on it, Katara joined you, also screaming in fun-agony.

“WHY’D YOU PUSH ME?” You splashed her.

“You were talking for too long…” she giggled, going under and pulling you down.

You inhaled a large amount of air before going under, making sure to keep her under with you as well. After a few seconds of freezing cold, you resurfaced, feeling pain in all your joints from the water.

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” she shrugged, waterbending herself back up to the ledge so she could jump again, “But it sure is fun,”

Sokka and Zuko heard a splash in the distance.

“I think Katara is torturing your wife,”

“What?” he mumbled, looking at where you were very clearly lecturing her about something, “What’re they doing?”

“Ice bath, Katara tricked me into doing it once… I never fully recovered,”

Zuko chuckled, using his stick to doodle another design. Which he then stared at for a while.

“This is it.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced at it, “It’s perfect.”

The men stared at each other proudly, as if they’ve just completed a super hard mission.

Immediately, Sokka took him inside a tent, quickly teaching him methods of carving with different tools. A few more splashes could be heard and you and Katara had fun.

“I wonder what he’s doing to Zuko,”

“Boy stuff,”

You furrowed your brows, “what does that even mean?”

After a lot of time (and a few cuts) Zuko finally had a necklace ready. Sure, it needed to be refined, but his hands were tired and shaky. Sokka patted him on the back, watching the fire bender weave the blue band into the loops.

What they failed to notice was you approaching, now covered in a warm coat.

“What’re y'all up to?” You breathed out, still cold but beginning to gain your senses.

Zuko panicked, hiding it under his leg. You looked at him weird.

By this time, Katara had joined the group, and behind her the sun fell into a pink and purple type hue. Zuko didn’t miss the way your breaths were so laboured, and he took it upon himself to lead you back to where Sokka said you two were staying. You changed into some clothes while he surveyed the room, moving around nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” you pulled a sweater over the thermal shirt, reaching over to grab an undercoat.

He walked up to you, fingers working shakily to button up the buttons. “Just cold,”

“No, the cold doesn’t make you avoid me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,”

“Really? It feels like Katara and Sokka are trying to keep us apart.” He grabbed another, heavier coat and draped it over your shoulder, you inserted your arms in the holes.

“I didn’t notice,”

“You’re lying,” you stepped back, putting your boots back on and tucking your pants into them.

He frowned, reaching out to you, but you stepped back.

“It’s weird, the letter thing as well- why didn’t you tell me you sent it to them? I thought it was last minute?”

“It was!”

“You’re lying again,” you frowned, folding your arms.

“I promise it’ll all make sense soon,”

“How soon? What’re you hiding?”

“I-“

“Actually. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” You huffed, storming out of the room, leaving a different kind of cold lingering.

Zuko sat down on the large bed, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed deeply, reaching over multiple layers of clothing to his pocket to pull out the carved stone. Truly, it was mediocre at best. And after this misunderstanding, the sinking feeling of impending rejection poisoned his thoughts. He couldn’t help but trace his finger over the patterns, wondering what could’ve been- he was half sure he was single now.

“I forgot-“ you gasped as you walked back in the room, catching a glimpse of the rock in his hand.

“Yn!” He quickly shoved it behind him.

“Zuko… what was that?”

“What was what?” He said, looking so suspicious it was stupid.

You took a few steps closer, inching towards him slowly, “In your hand,”

“My hand’s empty…”

“Liar…” you dragged on, standing right infront of him now.

“Zuko,”

“Yn,”

You tried pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t budging.

“Cut it out! What’s behind you?”

“Nothing!”

You sighed, walking away in defeat, just as he let his guard down, you pounced, having to grab it and rolling onto the bed. He barely had time to process it when your face immediately changed.

You sat up, moving on your knees towards him on the bed, patting his bicep, “Zuko light,”

The fire lord frowned, embarrassed that he was about to get rejected, although that’s no foreign feeling. A small, dancing red flame illuminated the carved necklace.

“It’s…” you covered your mouth with one hand, tears welling in your eyes.

“Tacky- I know, I just thought- you don’t have to do a-“

“Beautiful…” he glanced sideways at you, “Zuko…”

“This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go…” he sighed, dropping his head.

“No… probably not,” you sniffled, “but it was perfect,” you laughed, he chuckled as well.

He got up, lighting an oil lamp for better lighting. Zuko circled the bed and stood next to you, still nervous and fidgety.

“Yn,” he breathed out, shakily.

You nodded, glossy eyes meeting his.

“The years you’ve spent by my side, against me, with me- those have been the best years of my life. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly myself. I’ve never,” he swallowed harshly, “I’ve never felt more at home,” he paused again, looking up at the ceiling, “then when I’m with you.”

You let out a small noise of excitement, bouncing your legs.

“I’ve made so- so many mistakes in my life, every single day of it, but I think… I think letting you go would be my biggest mistake, Yn-“

“YES!!” You pounced on him, hugging him so tight as your heartbeats both skyrocketed.

You giggled as he looped the necklace around your neck, it was simple, and dainty, but most of all it was so Zuko. The more someone could stare at the imperfections in the craftsmanship, the more they’d love it. A man carved it with love and intention.

You held each other for a while, just swaying in the dimly lit room. You leaned back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Is this why we're here? You wanted to carve the necklace?”

“Yeah, pretty much, you ruined my plans though,”

“I did, didn't I?” You giggled.

“I had a lot planned for us, with the help of Sokka of course,”

“Ohh now that makes sense,”

“What makes sense,”

“Literally everything, you were being so weird,”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets,”

“Good, never keep one again,” you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose we should tell Katara and Sokka,”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

And so, hand in hand, you walked out to the bonfire, where the siblings sat.

Sokka was so mad his plan foiled.

#atla #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #fluff #avatar zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #zuko angst #zuko #zuko atla #zuko x Reader #fire lord zuko x reader #zuko x female!reader

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melzula · 13 days

Note

Heyaa, when the requests are open can you maybe do a princess x Zuko where the princess is always clinging to Zuko when she's cold? Just a random thought that came into my mind since Zuko is a firebender hehe :)

pairing: zuko x princess!reader

a/n: this is technically part of the fire lilies series but can also be read as a solo piece independently

summary: princess and zuko go penguin sledding

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

The rush of cold wind against your cheeks is exhilarating as you glide down the snow covered hills. Your delighted laughter carries through the air and brings a smile to Zuko’s face as you enjoy a day penguin sledding out in the palace courtyards.

Being kidnapped by Gilak and having your life threatened once again had been a traumatic experience for both you and your boyfriend, so Hakoda and your mother had advised you take a much needed day off for yourself. He could handle the work of drafting plans for an eco friendly oil rig and the foreign embassies while Pakku and Katara took on the school for the time being. Though you were hesitant to take a day off knowing there was so much to be done, Zuko had been the one to finally convince you that you desperately needed a break.

Today would be his last day in the South before he had to return home, and so you figured the best way to spend your time together would be with a trip through memory lane. You hadn’t been penguin sledding together since you were kids, so it seemed like a good idea to both of you to revisit your favorite pastime from when you were children.

You slow to a stop as you reach the end of the hill and land onto the plush snow below you with a laugh. The chill of the ice sends shivers down your spine but you choose to ignore it. All the back and forth traveling you’ve been doing hasn’t allowed your body the chance to acclimate to the weather of your home yet, but you try not to let it bother you.

“Having fun?” Zuko asks with a laugh as he helps you up off the snow. You immediately cling to his figure in an attempt to steal some of his heat, prompting the Fire Lord to raise a brow as he wraps his arms around your frame. “You’re not getting cold, are you?”

“Of course not,” you scoff indignantly, though your subtle trembling says otherwise.

“Maybe we should head inside-“

“No!” You immediately cry out in protest before he can finish his sentence. “We’ve hardly just begun the day. Don’t you want to keep penguin sledding?”

“Of course I do,” he assures you with a comforting kunik, “but I worry the cold might be too much for you.

“Too much?! I’m Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, I don’t get cold.”

“Alright,” Zuko relents with a chuckle at your adamant rebuttal. For a water bender you’re surprisingly stubborn, but he loves your headstrong nature more than anything. “Let’s keep sledding.”

Your face lights up with glee when he finally relents and allows you to carefully pick up your penguin and carry him back up the hill while showering the creature with praises and pets. He’d forgotten just how much you enjoyed the activity, and it was nice to see that same smile from your childhood again. It had been years since you both went sledding, since you both were just two kids unaware of what the future held in store for you, since you both were free of fear and responsibility and hurt. The war had taken a lot from you, forced you both to grow up too fast, so he was grateful for the fact that you both could just be kids again, even if only for a day.

“Y/n,” Zuko calls as the sun begins to set and the day begins to end, “I think it’s time we head inside for dinner. Your mother said she was making five-flavor soup for us.”

“Just one more time down the hill?” You plead with your best pout, though you know it doesn’t take much to convince Zuko to give in to your requests.

“Alright, but that’s it,” he tells you with a chuckle before following you up the hill. The courtyard lanterns begin to glow beautifully below as the moon starts to overtake the sky, and you exchange playful smiles with one another before beginning your decent down the snow.

Zuko’s hair blows wildly away from his face, his grin the biggest you’ve ever seen it, and you’re so caught up in admiring him that you don’t even notice the large pile of snow you’re about to crash into.

“Princess, look out!” Zuko tries to warn you, but it’s too late. You can do nothing but pull the penguin to your chest and shield it from the impact as you collide into the snowy mound. The Fire Lord winces on your behalf before quickly rushing to your aid. The otter penguin emerges after a moment and shakes the snow off its body before waddling away, but you fail to do the same. Zuko has to dig through the slush to pull you out, and as he lifts you up and into his arms he’s able to feel just how cold to the touch you are.

“Th-Thhere’s s-snow e-every-wh-where,” you complain through chattering teeth as you wrap your arms as tightly around his neck as possible in a desperate attempt to feel his warmth.

“Let’s get you inside before you freeze to death,” he comforts while carrying your trembling figure back inside the palace. If not for Zuko’s body heat, you’d surely already be feeling the effects of hypothermia taking place.

Thankfully, your boyfriend is able to swiftly make it back inside the palace and carry you through the halls towards your room. The heat of Zuko’s embrace melts the ice inside your clothes, but the dampness only seems to worsen the feeling of cold. You shiver incessantly, and he can only look on guiltily as he tries his best to ease your discomfort.

Finally, he swings the door to your bedroom open and carefully sets you back on your feet before helping you remove your heavy coat. He sets the wet material aside to dry before coming up to your trembling figure and rubbing his hands up and down your arms in an attempt to spread heat across your limbs.

“I’ll go find your mother and tell her what happened. You stay here and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold,” he advises you with a meek smile, a red blush tinting his cheeks when he realizes he probably should have phrased his sentence more delicately. Zuko presses a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to give you your privacy and shutting the door behind him.

Your skin feels like ice as you peel off the rest of your ensemble as quickly as you can. You were so used to beach days at Ember Island and swims in the lakes with your friends that you’d forgotten just how cold the water could be. Considering you grew up in the South, you’re a tad embarrassed to know how easily it gets to you now. You’d been away for so long, and even when you returned home you still found yourself venturing out often, so a part of you wondered if maybe you’d never fully readjust to the climate.

“Y/n?” A voice calls from the other side of the door followed by a gentle knock. “Zuko sent me to check on you. I have the warmest blanket I could find. May I come in?”

“Just a second, Mom,” you reply as you scramble to throw on a fresh set out of clothes and make yourself decent for visitors. After slipping into the warmest dress you can find, you open the door and allow her into your room.

“Someone got a little carried away penguin sledding, I hear,” she says with a teasing smile before draping the blanket around your shoulders. “You’re like ice! Thank spirits Zuko has that natural fire bending warmth to him or you might have frozen out there!”

“Yeah,” you murmur in agreement with a dejected frown, one that your mother notices right away.

“My little koala otter, what’s the matter?”

“I’m just a little embarrassed, I guess,” you admit with a sheepish laugh. “I thought I’d gotten over my aversion to the cold.”

“I think anyone who managed to get snow in their clothes would be cold,” she notes with a faint smile before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’m just happy to see you having fun again. You had to grow up very fast, something your father and I should have worked harder to prevent, so it’s nice to hear your laugh again and see you sledding like you did as a little girl.”

You smile at her words before pulling her into a tight hug, hoping the action conveys all your appreciation for her. Zuko walks in then with a tray of steaming five-flavor soup and tea in the hopes it will return some of your warmth to you.

“I’ll let you both enjoy your dinner alone,” she says after removing herself from your embrace. Exiting the room, she pauses to give Zuko’s arm a light squeeze. “Make sure she stays warm.”

“Yes, Kira,” he replies with a nod before returning his attention to you. “Let’s get you settled in.”

Setting the tray aside, Zuko escorts you back to bed and tucks the blanket around your figure as best as he can with you sitting up. Once you’re comfortable, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead before handing you the cup of tea. It’s the same cup from the set Iroh had gifted you some time ago, and the sight of it brings a faint smile to your face as you take in the smell of jasmine.

“You’re already starting to feel warmer,” Zuko notes pleasantly before trading your cup for the bowl of soup. “I should have warned you about that pile of snow sooner.”

“It’s okay, I don’t regret a thing. I had so much fun today, the most I’ve had in a while. I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry,” Zuko assures you as he uses his bending to reheat your tea before it can grow cold, “the day will come where we’ll never have to be apart ever again.”

“I can’t wait,” you confess with a smile only for it to fall at the sudden sneeze that leaves you.

“I think you might be catching a cold, my love,” Zuko notes with a frown.

“Will you stay and keep me warm?” You ask with a pleading look, one that makes it impossible for him to deny your request. How could he say no to your sweet face?

Climbing into bed with you, Zuko envelops himself around your figure and allows you to steal his warmth. He’ll never get tired of being your personal heater, and he’d be happy to spend the rest of his days like this.

You’ll never reacclimatize to the cold, because no matter where you go, Zuko will always be there to bring warmth to your life.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @aerikim246 @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @rinalsword @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123

#melzula writes #zuko #fire lilies #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar the last airbender #request

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letstripdotcom · 3 months

Text

losing sleep - matt sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n: much needed enemies to lovers bc i’m a SLUT for enemies to lovers. also country song fic bc i’m a little southern girl🤠

summary: matt sturniolo was the boy you hated most. it wasn’t always that way. one day he just decided he hated everything about you. that was until you slowly started to break down every wall off hatred and anger.

warnings: smut (eventual) mentions of being drunk/drinking, mentions of family problems

well i’ve been losing sleep

like a man loses time

reminiscing over memories

bouta lose my damn mind

he was the kindest, sweetest person to walk the planet. he was absolutely adorable. everyone admired him, and worshiped at he’s feet. matt sturniolo could do no wrong. he had the sweetest smile and the kindest eyes, and he didn’t have a mean bone in his body

but that wasn’t the case for you. matt hated you actually. he couldn’t stand being around you. you genuinely didn’t know why either. you didn’t have a reason to hate him, other than the fact that he hated you.

every time you spoke, he would shut you up by throwing a mean comment at you. when you walked into the room he would groan. he just seemed so bothered by you, but you never asked why. the once time you tried the only thing he said to you was “don’t ever talk to me again” and so you didn’t.

you and matt were best friends at one point. you spent every day together one summer and you were inseparable. you would wake up, go to the triplets house, do whatever, and when the moon came out your adventures had just begun. on the night everything changed you were too blacked out to even recall what had happened. you just woke up the next morning and matt wasn’t talking to you anymore.

matt’s pov:

people constantly ask me why me and y/n don’t get along the way we used to anymore, and as much as i want to tell them it’s because i hate her, she’s a terrible person, and things will never be the same, i know that’s not the full truth.

yes i hate her annoying voice, and i hate when she talks about boys, or when she comes to nick crying because some boy broke her heart. i hate the way she laughs and i hate how she squeals when she gets excited. i hate everything about her, but i used to love her once.

it wasn’t until a drunken night in late july that everything changed. y/n and i sat out by the pool at her house as we passed a bottle of pink whitney and talked about our lives. a lot of that night was a blur. but i remember kissing her. we were both so shitfaced, and so stupid.

“hey matt?” she spoke up “hmm?” i turned my head to look at her, as the world around me spun. “would you ever kiss me?” she asked. “i don’t know y/n, why?” i stared at her trying to read her expression to see what she was thinking. she leaned in and kissed me like it was something we did all the time. it was messy, but it was sweet. but what i didn’t expect was what she said to me after.

“matt i think you should leave.” she slurred

“y/n i’ve been drinking i can’t drive.” i argues

“you can sleep on the couch tonight but you need to be gone by the morning matt, i can’t do this.” she demanded

“do what?” i asked

“i’m sorry matt. goodnight.” she got up and stormed inside

and that was the night everything between us changed. i wasn’t friends with y/n after that day. when people noticed the distance between us, i had told them we got into an argument. i told them how much i hated her for it, and i told them i would NEVER love her the same again.

in august, my friend nate threw an end of summer party. i went, but i avoided y/n at all costs. i sat by his pool alone, downing a bottle of malibu. i wanted to just drink until i wasn’t thinking about y/n, but it’s like she never went away. the more i drank the more i thought about her.

i pull out my phone as i start to type her contact in. i’m so drunk i can barely make out the letters, but i try my best. i need to call her. i just have to make things right. i know she’s got nothing left to say, but i should call anyways. just then, nate comes outside. “yo matt are you okay?” i didn’t call her that night, and i didn’t fix things.

time skip

i roll my eyes when i walk into my house and hear her voice. she’s laughing about something. i hate that stupid laugh. what could possibly be so funny? i scoff as i walk by. as i pass nicks room, it takes me a few moments to register she’s not laughing, she’s crying.

just then, i get a text.

nick

y/n is having serious family problems right now, be nice when you get home pls!

i’m not home right now, but she needed a place to stay.

👍

i stand outside nicks door for a moment before turning to the kitchen. i grab my tub of mint chip ice cream and a bag of blue takis. those were our favorite snacks when we were kids i quietly walk up to nicks door and knock lightly. she let out a broken “come in” i opened up the door with a soft smile and i hand her the snacks i grabbed

we didn’t speak to each other at all, but we didn’t need to. she took the snacks and scooted over on the bed, signaling me to sit down. i sat down and engulfed her in a hug. she pressed her head against my chest and began sobbing.

i held her in my arms all night. we didn’t talk, and she just cried. i never wanted to let go of her and expose her to whatever else could happen to her. i didn’t need to ask her what happened, and she didn’t need to ask me why i was letting her do this. eventually, we fell asleep. i held her like if i let go she would disappear.

part 2 tmr! ❤️

#Spotify #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo

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lostgirlmuseum · 4 months

Text

The Swan and the Soldier

^made w/ pinterest

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader

Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer.

Words: 5.6k (oops)

Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything

A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit

(Dividers by me😎)

“You want me to what?”

Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.

“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”

Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way.

“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.

“Well—”

“Shut up.”

“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”

“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”

“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”

“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”

“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”

“Sam, I don’t think I can—”

“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.

“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump.

“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”

“He said what now?”

“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.

“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”

AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.

“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”

“Samuel.”

“You can say no,”

“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated.

“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone.

“This is manipulation.”

“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.

Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”

“Big time! Promise.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.

“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.

“Love you too, Buddy.”

Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.

“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”

Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.

“James Barnes?”

Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.

Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner.

Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.

“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.”

Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.

“Now is fine."

“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.

She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”

“Oh, none of them.”

He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.

“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”

Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.

“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”

“Oh? All good things I hope?”

He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.

“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.

“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”

“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”

“That’s cool.”

Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.

“Do you still dance?”

“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”

“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.

She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.

“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”

Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”

‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?

He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.

“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”

Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.

She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.

“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!”

“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N.”

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.”

He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.

Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.

“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.

“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.

“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”

“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.

“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”

Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.

“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.

“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.

“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”

“Oh, um…”

“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.

Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.

“I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”

“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”

Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.

“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”

“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.

It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.

“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.

“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”

“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.

“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”

“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”

Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”

“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”

“Oh.”

Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”

Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.

“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”

There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.

“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”

“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.

“Bye, metal man.”

“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Whatever.”

“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”

Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.

“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”

Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.

“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”

Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest.

The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions.

“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.

Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous.

Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.

“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”

Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!

You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”

“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.

The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little.

Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?

She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.

“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.

Everyone stepped forward.

The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?

“Group three!”

Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous.

Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.

“And four,”

He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.

He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.

“Excellent! Let’s move on.”

Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves.

“You ready to go, AJ?”

AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”

“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.

The little girl looked up at him unphased.

“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”

Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”

“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”

Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.

“So can you fly?” She squinted.

“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.

“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.

“Yep!”

“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”

Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.

“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.

“Bye!” AJ shouted.

Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.

“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly.

“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Bucky.”

Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,

“Only friends and family call him that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.

“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”

“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.”

He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”

“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”

“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”

“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”

Bucky nodded.

She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.

“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.

“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.

“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”

“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.

“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.”

“Where did you want to go?”

“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,”

Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”

“Just water is fine,”

“Sure, one second.”

Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned.

Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies.

“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”

Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.

“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.

She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.

Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page.

There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls.

“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.

Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.

Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.

“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”

Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.

“You were the swan?”

“Odette, yeah.”

Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.

“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”

She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.

“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”

“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.

They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.

“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.

It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.

“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.

She obliged and restarted the music.

They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush.

“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!”

Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg.

“I used to be better,” he mumbled.

“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.

Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.

It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.

“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.

“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”

“I forgot my gloves.”

“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.

“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”

“Is AJ not waiting for you?”

“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”

“Gotcha.”

A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you stop dancing?”

She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.

“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.

“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”

Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.

“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.

“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”

Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”

“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.

“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.”

Bucky blushed.

“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”

“What is?”

“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”

“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.

“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”

“Charming?”

“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”

“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”

“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.

Bucky pursed his lips.

“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”

“More than willing.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”

She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.

“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”

The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.

“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.

“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”

“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped.

“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”

Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.

“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I like dancing with you.

A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything

If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist

Happy holidays!

#bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #tfatws!Bucky #dancer!reader #costumer!reader #bucky fluff #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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accio-victuuri · 5 months

Text

ONE NIGHT IN BEIJING & other sweets 🌃

when i first saw this song being discussed earlier, i was confused cause i don’t know what’s happening. lol. what’s with the song. i cannot trace where the screenshot is from but it says one of WYB’s favorite song is this, one night in beijing.

then a fan commented that XZ sang this in our song before ( not main performance ) and someone found a recording. did he discover the song because of that? was it on zz’s playlist at some point in the past and became his fave?

the song itself tho. very 👀👀👀

Don’t wish to ask where you have been

Don’t wish to wonder if you are ever returning

I’m thinking of your heart, I’m thinking of your face

I’m thinking of your embrace – I won’t let go, I just won’t

that’s just the first few lines and i’m here nodding my head that this fits his style of bittersweet song.

but this not even the interesting part….

Fans are thinking about how this relates to what’s been happening in the past few ways. The way we have speculated about 11/19 and WYB acting as the mystery driver again. Then him sharing a post on his weibo. One night in Beijing? Does he love that particular title cause it sometimes describes their meetings? They are often busy and one night is all they can get.

People are also pointing out the change in ZZ’s work schedule today. His LOCH sched starts early and ends in the evening or very late but the 5:30-6:00 AM call time for him is almost fixed. Yesterday, 11/22, WYB posts and we think they are together. What happens today? ZZ comes in “late” to work at 11:30 AM. So why the change? Was he spending time with Bobo? This reminds me of that time he was out of his schedule too when Bobo was sick.

A common argument from haters is how is a relationship between them possible. They are busy! Well.. this is how. since 2020, they have been meeting (allegedly) and even going to each other’s workplace ( allegedly lol repeating this to be safe ) It doesn’t matter how long, they make it work. You will always find time for the important people in your life.

Next, let’s move on to XZS post. On a Thursday. Also it perfectly coincides with their WB account reaching 10 million followers. The photos shared are behind the scenes content from ad shoots but the contrast of the photos stands out. Day & Night. The kadian they use, 14:23 loving zhan forever. Which goes to show that they do use it!

The caption gives us more insight on the choice of photos. Sun & Moon. Another symbolism that is popular with CPFs Sun/Sunshine & Moon.

“It is the perfect moment, just like when the gentle light meets the rising moon.”

I think the english translation doesn’t give that much deeper meaning that we clowns love. so we gotta take it to the next level 🙃🙃🙃

"Fuguang" and "Wangshu" are both important elements in Chinese culture. "Fuguang" comes from the works of Song poets in the Southern Dynasties, which means sunlight or sunlight."Wangshu" is a god in Chinese mythology and legend, representing the moon and can be used to describe moonlight'. The two can be combined to show that lovers support each other and move towards a bright future together.

This caption aligns to WYB posting a photo yesterday that shows the 🌙. So does this mean WYB is the Moon & ZZ is the Sun/light? I have to say that it fits with their personality ( tho Bobo is warm and ZZ has his moments of being cold too but you know what I mean, for symbolic purposes only ok. ) I am loving this imagery between them! I hope we can have more reference in the future.

I’m cackling at this tho. The progression of posts, WYB’s caption was a reminder that it’s getting colder > YBO reposts and says to wear warmer clothes > XZS posts and GG is wearing a cozy sweater 😂 As if saying that yep, he has worn warmer clothes. LOL.

and xzs and ybo are at it again, the photo ybo shared yesterday was showing wyb’s back and xzs shared something similar today as the last photo in the grid. i’m sure they have lots of photos that show his face or close ups of his body like his hand but they had to choose this as the finale.

i mean thank you, this will make it easier for us to edit them together 😂😂😂

Bonus, the “light” photos appear to form an 8 = bo. (p1) is a himalaya episode about the 8 of diamonds card forming an 8. What a coincidence!

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #my god the past days are so sweeeeet so much candies!!!!!!

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tieronecrush · 8 months

Text

hot & heavy

chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.9k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and displays of nationalism! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so don't ever leave me pls. also thank you all for being so patient with this chapter while i was away! enjoy xxx

“Morning, Millers! Happy Fourth!” Your dad’s voice booms in your ear from where he stands behind you at the garage door, waving to the three Millers as they walk over to your driveway. “Y’all ready for a day on the lake?”

“Sure are. Thanks again for invitin’ us, can we pack up the cooler and everything in my truck? Might make it easier to access since you’ve got the boat hitched up here.” Joel glances your way, the slightest curve of his mouth when you catch his stare, turning toward your dad.

“Well, that’d be just great! We’ve got a couple more bags inside, but think you can take care of these things for now?” Your dad gestures to the things behind you both, clapping his hands when Joel confirms and steps forward to grab the supplies. Slipping back into the house to help your mom with last-minute prep, your dad leaves you with the Miller crew outside.

“Long time, no see, Posey.” Tommy teases as he grabs a tote from his older brother as Joel gives him a glare, earning a smile and shrug from you. “Definitely didn’t hear you sneaking out the kitchen door this mornin’ from my place sleeping on the couch.”

“Get all of that out now before we’re constantly around my parents all day, Thomas.” Joel straightens up at the slightest edge of your voice, masked with teasing as he walks away from you standing with Tommy, grumbling to himself as he goes to load everything for the festivities into his truck.

“Yeesh, somebody’s in a mood. Sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, but you probably know that.” Tommy hikes the bag onto his shoulder further, grimacing slightly with a familiar furrowed brow — you can see even more of the resemblance with that.

“I’ve seen him crabby, but it’s honestly been pretty rare. He was fine this morning.” Watching from your driveway, Joel’s shoulders move underneath the navy t-shirt he’s got on, lifting everything into the bed of his truck. Tommy follows over there, loading up the rest of the things that your dad brings out from the house. You pick up one tote, Joel approaching behind you and skimming a hand over your lower back.

“I can take that, sweetheart.” He holds a hand out at your side, giving you a tight lip smile as you nod and stutter out an agreement, handing the bag over to him. Your parents walk outside at that moment, your mom rifling through her purse while your dad calls into the house for your brother, Chris, before shutting the door.

“Everyone ready to go?” Your mom looks up, meeting your eyes as Joel gives her a nod and a smile, walking over to his truck to get Sarah in. “Oh gosh, we really overpacked, didn’t we?”

“You always pack for the boat as if we’re going on a sailing trip out to the Gulf. But at least we’ll be prepared,” you say with a laugh, adjusting the strap of your swimsuit underneath your cover-up dress, turning around, and exchanging another look with Joel as he climbs into his car.

There’s the smallest flash of those ‘what ifs’ that plagued your mind a few nights ago, tamped down for the last few days. You clear your throat of the acidic burn, climbing into the back of your dad’s truck and watching Chris shuffle out of the house still half asleep, climbing in next to you with a mumbled greeting.

After you ignore it, he asks, “What the hell has you in a mood?”

If only you could say something.

You climb out of the back of your dad’s truck once you reach the docks, making your way over to Joel’s truck parked in the lot to help unload while your dad and Chris drop the boat in. Sidling up to him at the back of the cab, you reach for your personal bag that you packed with your things like a book and extra sunscreen and a change of clothes. His hand intercepts yours, looking at you with one side of his mouth lifted.

“I got it for you, Mari. D’you mind walkin’ with Sarah?” He nods to where she’s stood on the sidewalk nearby, observing all of the boats in the small lakeside harbor. Glancing back at Joel, you give him a gentle smile, reaching to give his arm a squeeze.

“Thanks, J. I’ll take Sarah down there. You sure you and Tommy don’t need any help?” You suspiciously eye the amount of stuff occupying the truck bed, quirking a brow at him.

“Positive, darlin’. Y’all head down there, we’ll be right behind you both.” He leans in a few inches as if he’s going to kiss you, halting in his movements and letting out a barely audible sigh before straightening up again and looping a few more bags onto his arms. Your stomach flips around with the need to complete his motions, to close the gap that was there between you, but you respect the boundaries he wants to keep around your family, instead walking over to Sarah and taking her hand.

Guiding her down the winding path, she tells you all about how excited she is to go swimming and to see the fireworks later, swinging your joined hands. You stop at the end of the dock, waiting as your dad and Chris pull around to where you and your mom are; Joel and Tommy come up behind you with all the goods, loading them onto the boat with your dad and Chris when they come around. Tommy hops on after swinging the cooler over the side, Joel stepping down after. Your dad offers your mom a hand while Joel picks up Sarah easily and sets her down, reaching a hand out to you afterward.

Gingerly taking it, you swing one foot onto the seat, bringing the other over and tripping a bit. You sway back and forth, a heavy hand tightly gripping your side to steady you.

“Y’alright? Nearly fell in there, sweetheart.”

Nodding and taking a breath, Joel drops his hand from you and helps you the rest of the way down and onto the seat. Your mom digs out a child’s life jacket from one of the storage compartments, passing it to you.

“D’you mind getting that on Sarah, honey? She’s gotta wear it to stay safe. Too many nutcases out on the water today.”

You call Sarah over, smiling as she stands in front of you and explaining that she has to keep this on while everyone’s on the boat. Easily slipping her arms in, you close it in front of her chest, clipping and securing the clips one at a time. Joel sits next to you, a few more inches apart than normal, patting Sarah’s curls and giving you a sideways glance.

“You wanna sit here between us, mija?” Joel pats the spot, helping Sarah scoot back onto the bench. He stretches his arm behind her, grazing your arm and brushing his fingers against the knit material of your cover-up. Joel relaxes for the first time all morning, content to stay like this all day if it was his choice. Both of his girls next to him, as close as he can get to you without breaking the boundaries he set himself.

With everyone seated, your dad at the helm, the boat lurches to life when the engines turnover and it idly cruises out of the harbor area before picking up speed to drive around the lake for a bit. The wind blows against all of you, Sarah giggling at the excitement of the ride. You turn to look at her, beaming a smile as she holds onto your arm. Joel watches the small interaction, his heart pumping the subtlest bit harder in his chest.

You’re so patient with Sarah, so kind, compassionate, silly, and serious — you’re exactly what she needs right now, what she’s missing that Joel can’t quite ever be no matter how hard he tries.

The words burn into his mind, sitting in his throat where he holds it back on his tongue. Later. He can say it later. At some point.

After a few laps and weaves around the lake, your dad idles the boat up to a cluster of fellow lake-goers, dropping the anchor and turning off the engines. Everyone shuffled around, Sarah popping up and asking to go in the water straight away.

“Gotta put some sunscreen on ya first, Bug. How about we do that, wait a few minutes for it to dry and you can drink some water and then go swimming?” Joel stands up, glancing around for their own bag they packed. You’re still seated, sorting through your own tote and pulling out your sunscreen.

“Here, use mine. Sure we’ll find your bag in a minute but don’t think Sare-Bear here wants to wait any longer than she has to for swimming.” You smile at her before handing the tube off to Joel, a quiet “thanks” in response. He gets some on Sarah, asking her to sit and wait for it to dry before handing the lotion back to you. Joel steps around you to find their bag on the other end of the boat, walking back over with spray sunscreen and stripping off his shirt to apply some himself.

Stealing glances at you, his mouth dries out when he watches you peel off the cover-up, setting it aside and leaving you clad in your bikini. The sight of you applying the sunscreen sends him back to that first summer, the view from his window into yours of you naked and applying body lotion — a show only for him. He swallows hard and shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring you off to his side until he hears you speak up.

“Hey, Tommy, d’you mind gettin’ my back for me since you’re waitin’ on the sunscreen from Joel?” He watches you cross over to Tommy before he can call out a protest, the words dying in his throat when he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you today. Tommy shrugs at Joel, helping you out while he watches on enviously.

Huffing out a sigh, he finishes his own application, throwing the bottle back in the bag and sitting back down in the sun. He slips his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose from the top of his head, closing his eyes and basking in some of the warmth before Sarah begs to get into the water.

Joel hears you mumble a curse under your breath, feeling your presence next to him. Tilting his head down and opening his eyes again, he glances at you sideways and questions, “Something wrong?”

“I stupidly left my sunglasses in the car. I set them down next to my bag instead of putting them inside of it,” you sigh and look around the boat in hopes that some sort of idea pops into your head. Joel reaches up, takes off his own pair of glasses, and hands them to you.

“Here, y’can borrow mine. Won’t need them in the water with Sarah anyway, just gonna lose ‘em if I wear them in the lake.” He gives you a shrug and a thoughtful smile, your fingers brushing his when you exchange the sunglasses. Your own smile that you give him flips his insides, a knowing look shared that says ‘I’d kiss you right now if I could’.

And he desperately wants to.

“Thanks, J—oel. Joel,” you catch yourself with the affectionate nickname, stuttering out the rest of his name and making him chuckle as he stands up.

“Anytime.” A flash of a wink nearly makes you stutter again, slipping the glasses on as Joel, Sarah, Tommy, and Chris all get in the water to cool off from the already blazing heat.

About a half hour later, Joel and Tommy rumble up the ladder back onto the boat, leaving Chris in charge of entertaining Sarah by spinning her in the inner tube that’s been inflated. The Millers measly dry off before Tommy wanders over to the cooler. Joel steps over to where you’re lying out on the bench, shaking his curls out over you with your eyes closed behind his sunglasses. The cool water drips over you, opening your eyes in a flash and sitting up.

“Rude,” you mumble as you wipe the drips of water and Joel sits next to you where your thighs once were. He chuckles and shrugs casually, leaning back against the side of the boat and propping his elbows up behind him. He’s sitting only a few inches away, and with your parents sitting and chatting at the other end, they don’t hear as he leans in and speaks low to you.

“Y’looked hot. I was only tryin’ to cool you down.” He winks and smirks smugly, dragging his eyes up and down your body when you stand and patter over to the cooler where Tommy’s retrieved a beer from.

“You want a drink, Joel?” you ask over your shoulder, nodding in confirmation when he says yes.

“Probably should get some water as well. You, too. Gotta stay hydrated in the heat.”

“Hm, guess so.” You grab a plastic bottle and turn around, lobbing it to him to catch. You pick up another for yourself, grabbing a can of beer for Joel and a popsicle for you. As you turn around with your pickings, you take the beer can in one hand, heading straight on for Joel and press it into your skin against your sternum, sighing a bit extra as the icy cold aluminum sits against your sun-warmed body.

Dragging it across, the condensation drips across your body, dropping the can down in between your breasts as you stand with your back to your parents. Another sigh breathed directly towards Joel, the slightest pitch change up at the end indetectable to Tommy across the boat but unignorable for Joel.

He clears his throat, taking the can from you gingerly as you hold it out for him, equally as smug of a smirk on your face. You take your seat next to him again, setting your water bottle to the side of you and unwrapping the popsicle as Joel cracks his beer and takes a sip.

“Lucky it’s still cold,” he grumbles under his breath, making you laugh quietly and a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Between your thumb and index, you grip the wooden stick of the red, white, and blue rocket pop, bringing it up to your lips and starting to lick it as you make conservation with Tommy, a thought popping into your head as ‘Fortunate Son’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival starts playing over the boat’s speakers.

“D’you get a lot of people thanking you for your service when they find out you were in the army, Tommy?”

“Eh, some really. Fellow veterans really don’t, and I don’t care to mention it that much to people. Most they notice is the sticker on my car in like the grocery store parking lots and they’ll say it quickly or give me a nod,” he shrugs and waves the question off, “Plus, you definitely don’t get people saying it to me on the Fourth. People gettin’ too drunk outta their minds in the name of their freedom.”

“Well, if no one else says it today, then thanks, Tommy. War is the stupidest thing man invented, but m’glad you made it home safe.”

Tommy holds up his can of beer and tips it toward you while you pop the icy, sugary treat out of your lips and hold it up with a laugh.

“Cheers,” he says with a smile.

Joel merely listened to you two the whole time, chatting back and forth while Tommy pounds his beer and tossed it into the recycling bag before jumping back into the lake. You’ve still got your popsicle, sliding it between your lips absentmindedly next to Joel, who keeps glancing to the side as you.

At the next, admittedly overdramatized, suck of popsicle between your lips, slurping the sugary juice before a drip slips out of the corner of your mouth. You wipe it up with your thumb, about to turn to Joel to ask if you’ve got food coloring on your face when he shifts next to you, one hand attempting to adjust himself before he grumbles a few curses and stands up. The water and beer are left ignored in cup holders, the small, subtle bulge in his trunks giving you a smirk that you bite back as he stomps over to the side of the boat and jumps in to cool off.

Throwing out the popsicle stick, you drink some of your water before meandering over to the side of the boat and climbing down the ladder and into the lake water. An instant chill is spread across your body, relaxing your muscles and washing off the slight sweat that built up under the blazing sun. Paddling over to the rest of the group in the water, you exchange a quick look with Joel before Sarah and Chris pull you into some sort of game. Twenty minutes go by before Sarah gets bored of the water, hungry and thirsty, and when Joel moves to help her out of the water and onto the boat, Tommy offers to get out with her to have another beer and some snacks himself. Chris gets out along with them, leaving you and Joel alone in the water.

He swims over to where you’re treading water, a soft, friendly smile on his face. “Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

A wider grin spreads across his lips, swimming away for a moment to fetch the inner tube that Sarah was using bringing it over and slipping it over your head. A laugh leaves your lips when you can’t see over it for a moment, pushing the tube down and climbing onto the side to lean on it. You float above Joel’s eyeline, his neck slightly tilted to look into your eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

“You look nice today, darlin’,” he hums and treads water in front of you, reaching out a hand underwater and toying with the material of your swimsuit at your hip.

“Only nice?” you tease, leaning over the side of the inner tube a bit more, biting your bottom lip.

“Well, I could say more but probably don’t want my thoughts overheard,” he mirrors your smirk and snaps the elastic of the swimsuit against your skin, fingertips trailing down your thighs, “You do look more than nice though. You look beautiful. S’a pretty swimsuit and, uh, that dress thing—”

“My cover-up?”

“Yeah, yeah. I like your cover-up. It’s nice. A shame it covers up all this, but y’know you still look gorgeous either way.” He gives you a wink and squeezes one of your thighs.

“Thanks, J. You look pretty, too. But you always look pretty — got your curls and your tanned skin and broad shoulders and big brown eyes,” you giggle quietly as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head bashfully.

“You’re always pretty, too, Mari. You always look beautiful. La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world).”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look at each other, silently admiring before you break first, your voice covered by all the commotion of the lake around you but audible to Joel right in front of you. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

His shoulders sag underwater and his brow creases subtly, bottom lip pouting, “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, J. Wasn’t a good time to tell them. Later, right?” You give a sad smile that he returns, squeezing his hands against your thighs with a short nod.

“Later.”

After floating around and chatting with Joel until you were turning pruney and nearly falling asleep in the water, he pushes the inner tube toward the boat and follows behind you to get back.

“Y’need to get some water and somethin’ to eat, sweetheart. Probably dehydrated at this rate cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” Joel pats the tube with his hand to silently ask you to get out to go up the ladder.

“M’just sleepy, the sun feels warm. Like a cat, jus’ wanna nap in the sunlight,” you mumble out, stretching your arms up and your legs toward Joel underwater, pointed toes hitting his thighs. He grabs you by the ankles, tugging a bit to move you closer before he nods to the blown-up floaty.

“Maybe so, but you still haven’t had any water for at least an hour and you haven’t had anything to eat besides the popsicle. Let’s go up, Mariposa.” His voice is decided — filled with care and not control. It compels you to follow what he says, slipping the tube over your head and wading over to the ladder. Joel follows you out, dripping on the boat and grabbing his towel as your brother tosses yours from the bench.

Drying off and wrapping your towel around you, drops of water trail off of you all the way to the seat where you plop down next to Tommy. Joel heads to the cooler, grabbing out water for both of you. He asks around if anyone else wants one, getting a few hollered answers as he throws them all around. When he returns to sit down again, he hands you yours along with a snack — one of the Tupperware filled with some chopped fruit. Sarah wanders over when you open it, standing in front of you to share. Joel throws the bottle of sunscreen over to you, asking to reapply for Sarah and reminding you to do it for yourself.

“Alright, everybody, heads up. The plan right now is to move the boat and park up by a friend of ours’ house on the lake here. And there we’ll grill out and have some dinner and then come back onto the boat for fireworks before headin’ home,” your dad explains as he moves back into the driving seat, “Sound alright for y’all?”

Everyone’s in agreement, kicking it into gear as you let Sarah next to you to continue sharing the snack while your dad lifts the anchor. Holding onto her while you ride over, Joel takes in the sight of you two across from him, a steady flap of butterfly wings smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Su Mariposa y su mariposita. His butterfly and his little butterfly — his Bug. His girls.

He finds himself thanking the universe for leading him to someone as nurturing and patient and kind as you to love. A lonely road ending with you.

It’s a thought he continues to have throughout the rest of the evening, small moments that he sees of you with his daughter, his brother, your own family and friends. Effortless. You make it all seem so effortless and natural, but Joel knows how much energy a day like today will take from you; from your spirit. He can’t claim to know exactly what’s on your mind, but all he can do is fight the urge to blurt out a loud ‘thank you’ in the middle of the lawn.

Even through everything, you have a smile on your face for him and your loved ones. You’re strong, perseverant. Someone he looks up to, and hopes that you can be that type of role model for his daughter. Not perfect, not idolized. Real.

“She’s just completely enamored with Sarah, isn’t she?” your mom’s voice pulls Joel out of his thoughts, realizing his eyes were trained in you and Sarah as you help her make a plate for dinner from the large spread on the deck tables. Joel looks up to his left, a gentle and sheepish smile on his face as he nods slowly.

“She’s great with Sarah. Has been since that first summer. I think Sarah has way more fun with her and listens to her way more than she does me,” Joel chuckles softly and your mom laughs with a nod.

“That’s how it always is. The kids always loved their babysitters and looked up to them in a different sort of way. We were lucky to have the sitters we did to help raise the kids right, y’know?”

“I do know. Feel the same way since we moved in next door. The whole family’s been a real help—“

“But there’s just something about her, isn’t there?”

“Exactly. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But there’s something special there. Maybe she should consider it for a career, nannying I mean. Always seemed to be happy with Sarah during the summer.” Both sets of eyes are still on you across the way, focused on Sarah and guiding her through the muck of people to keep her from getting overwhelmed.

“I think there might be something just special there. In all of her babysitting and nannying years, can’t say she’s had as much fun as she did with Sarah.”

“Guess I should thank you for volunteering her that first summer. Probably the best recommendation I’ve gotten from a neighbor,” Joel laughs to himself, shaking his head subtly as he thinks of all the time you two have had together over the years.

“Thank me later, how about that? End of this summer, you can thank me for getting her to do what she was too chicken to do,” your mom laughs quietly, “Talking to the new neighbor and getting a job.”

“Uh, yeah, alright.” Your mom shares a smile with Joel before walking off to chat to some friends, leaving Joel to wonder what she meant by that exactly.

Back onto the boat after dinner with the larger party, your family and the Millers caravanned into the middle of the lake with a bunch of other boaters, dropping anchor in the cluster.

There is a platform in the middle of the lake, installed there with taut chains to the bottom where the same family lights off an impressive fireworks display every year. Helping your mom hand around the last bit of drink and some cookies for dessert, you finally are able to snag a spot by Sarah and Joel on the other side of her. Once you get settled, Sarah looks over at you with her sun-kissed face and big brown eyes just like her dad’s. Wordlessly, she scoots closer to you before deciding to simply climb onto your lap, you accepting her company with open arms.

“You comfy?” you wrap your arms around to hug her to your chest and keep her on your thighs, smiling as she nods with a quiet yawn. Her head leans back on your shoulder, one of your hands coming up to run your fingers through her curls.

Joel slides over a few inches, a hand’s width away from you, relaxing with you close by. The sight of Sarah so comfortable with you, and you her, brings back those butterfly wings stronger than before. What he would give to be able to put his arm around you and give you a kiss — to have his little unit of three together.

Damn, maybe he should have said something to your parents…

No, no. This was the smart choice. It’s the smart choice to keep it this way around them until things are certain. He’s all in for you, but there is still a small whispering of doubt that he feels every once in a while.

Are you going to resent him at any point? Will you want to leave again at the end of summer, to leave him behind and continue your life somewhere else? He knows you care about him, he knows how much you care about Sarah. But does he rely too much on you? Is it too much to sign up to be with him and also sign up to have a daughter along with it all?

Every time he thinks about telling your family, all he can imagine is the worst scenario. Disowning, no contact, moving. Joel’s insecurities fester in these imaginings, finding out how to make every new thought worse than the last.

It’s not fair to you, he knows that. But he needs time. Time to find the right words, to make the right promises.

A small, pathetic pop of a firecracker grabs everyone’s attention, the fizzle of the main display filling the air. Sarah sits up in your lap, eyes turned up along with yours as the fireworks start to go, drowning out whatever you’re saying to her as you point and smile widely. The reflection of the lights dissipates in your eyes each time, short explosions fading out to the night sky again.

Joel seems to be the only one with his gaze turned away from the opening in the clouds, a thought flashing into his head like one of the fireworks before he acts on it. Fingers brush your hip, catching on the open-knit and your head turns to face him, the same smile you had with Sarah still on your face. He leans in behind her head, his nose brushes against yours before he kisses you — soft and delicate and not nearly enough for what he needs in the moment but it satiates something for him.

You’re smiling against his lips, stealing one last quick peck before pulling back, the same wide grin from before spread across your cheeks as you whisper to him.

“Naughty.”

“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for it with the teasing all day. Better be coming over tonight after all of that,” Joel responds back, the noise drowned to everyone else on the boat by the repeated launches of large fireworks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, J. I thought I was being peaceful and relaxed all day.”

At that you turn your head up again, listening to Sarah as she talks about the bursting lights and starts pointing at all of the cool moments again. Joel continues to watch you fall back into the moment with her, he content with being an observer — and for giving you a tiny token of all that he’s been feeling today.

But damn is he eager to get you alone.

It was a long while to get home and get everything unpacked from the car and into the garage, but you’ve finally managed to shower and change; behind you, you slowly pull the sliding glass door closed to your basement studio, wandering across your backyard and into Joel’s to his backdoor.

Knocking lightly, it isn’t long before the door opens, and Joel’s hands find your waist to tug you inside, tripping over your feet across the threshold.

“Hey, J—” Your words are cut off by his lips on yours, a heavy kiss enveloping your breath while your hands search across his arms and up to his chest. Returning his kiss gives more energy behind his movements, fingers digging into your hips and directing you backward until your lower back hits the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a split second that he pulls away to help you up onto the surface, his large frame leaning in again to catch your lips with his.

Pressure at his chest from your palms keeps him a few inches away from your face, eyes meeting his as your breaths recover shallowly.

“What a greeting,” you laugh, voice hoarse as you keep your volume low.

“Missed bein’ able to kiss you, Mari. Holdin’ you. And you were such a fucking tease all day, darlin’,” he rasps out, brow creased as he holds your gaze.

“Was not.”

“Was too, Mari.” Joel slips his hands into the bend of your legs, spreading them apart to step between them. He pulls you further to the edge pressing his bulge into your thigh as he sighs, letting his breath fan over your face, “Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Been wanting you all day. Need you so bad, Mariposa.”

Your own sigh matches his, eyes closing for a moment as he starts to grind against your clothed center, stuttering out a response, “Cou—Could’ve touched me today. Maybe we should’ve snuck off at the barbecue…”

Both of you chuckle, Joel’s much darker than yours, “Don’t tell me that now, baby. You’ve got no idea what I would’ve done to you if we had a second alone.”

“We’re alone now. Show me what you would’ve done.”

“Yeah? You wanna know?” His parted mouth trails warm breath against your skin, his nose ghosting against your cheek before he presses kisses into your jawline.

“Please, J,” you whine, mouth right against his ear as he leans over to kiss your neck. One hand tangles into the curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the shower that you can smell on him — the sandalwood musk scent of his body wash. A deep breath of the scent races your heart along with his wandering hands, him standing fully in front of you again.

“Gonna have to be quiet, baby. Have a full house tonight. Silent, got it?”

All you do is nod in response, holding his head as you close the gap between you two with fervor. Joel rumbles out a moan into your mouth, tugging you close and off the counter, his impatience reeling after the day.

Fumbling around with cheeky grabs and gropes over each other, you get turned to face the counter and Joel’s hands hook into your waistband — sleep short and panties — to tug them down just enough to drop them down your legs and let you step one foot out. He pulls himself free from his shorts and boxers, a handful of your ass in his palm as he quietly moans to himself. One swipe of his fingers through your folds tells him exactly how much you want him, devilish smirk crossing his face.

“Felt like this the whole day, pretty girl? Must’ve been so needy, Mari. Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. Déjame cuidarte, cariño. Déjame sentirte. (Let me take care of you, darling. Let me feel you.)”

“Please, please, J—“

“Shh. S’alright, sweet Mari. Think you can take me, want to take my cock like the good girl you are?” He questions you in a raspy whisper, taking himself in one hand and guiding the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck…” you draw out quietly, nodding quickly as you look over your shoulder at him, “I can take it, please give it to me.”

“Pretty girl jus’ begging for me, yeah? Got to be quiet,” Joel reminds you before he lines himself up, slowly opening you up with his cock. The stretch is painful at first, whimpers echoing in your closed mouth while you grip the counter’s edge and bite the inside of your cheek.

With slow, shallow thrusts at first, Joel works you to relax around him, nodding to himself when he sees your shoulder relax and your head fall forward out of pleasure when he starts to pick up the pace behind you.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl. Mi buena chica. Sabes cómo tomarlo, Mari. (My good girl. You know how to take it.)”

A moan slips from your lips and cuts through the relative silence, your head snapping over your shoulder to Joel. He shakes his head, sliding one hand up your side to hold around your mouth, covering up any more noises and giving him leverage to arch your back for him as he fucks you harder.

“Shit, pretty girl, not gonna last—Fuck, muy apretado y mojado. (Fuck, so tight and wet.)” You nod behind Joel’s hand, gripping his wrist when his free hand reaches for your clit, rubbing hurried circles that push you to the edge further, teetering there while his hips hit into you harder and brush your g-spot. Feeling yourself clench around his cock, you move your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as the top of him hits your g-spot square on.

“That’s right, my girl, can feel how close you are. Give it to me, baby, please—“ A vibrating moan interrupts his rambling thoughts when you come, walls gripping around him and fluttering inside. Your own noises are stifled by his palm, body limping in his hold while he rocks his hips as deep as possible and ropes of his come fill you up. “Such a good girl, goddamn…”

Breathless, he holds you up and presses you against the counter as he hunches over your body from behind. Using whatever energy is left in him, Joel peppers your neck and profile in lazy kisses, lingering around your ear.

“Love you, Mari.”

Once you’ve both recovered enough from the quick, hasty fuck, limbs regaining their abilities to move, Joel leads you up to bed and drags you under the covers. The two of you chat about the day and plans for the rest of summer while he lays his head on your chest, eyes closing while you run your fingers through his hair. Index twirls some of the rare ringlets, nails scratching his scalp soothingly.

In a few moments of you talking to him about bringing Sarah to the aquarium, his breaths have leveled out and his lips have parted, a large muscular build curled around you sleeping. It’s a few moments that you steal while continuing to play with his hair, admiring how young and boyish he looks. The perpetually creased brow of his has relaxed, his parted lips giving him the slightest of pouts.

Joel, your strong, independent, capable, protective, caring, loving man, is still a boy at times. When you feel young around him, you know you’ll think back to this moment — when you realized he’s just as much in the ‘figuring how all this shit works out’ stage. Permanently.

The last two or so years have been filled with moments that it seems that you took what Joel had to think or say as written in stone; his confidence and decisiveness was something you were envious of at times. But it also meant that all those times, even if he knew what he was doing, he was still a young boy, a teenager, a man, all the ones in between — figuring it out. Wondering if the choices were right. If it would all work out in the end.

That first summer, when you fell completely in love and let him know before you were leaving for nearly a year. It was genuine, of course, but it was naive. Thinking about long distance, a single father trying to make that work. It probably scared him at the time, and was too much to attempt to work with.

And the next summer, when he had his time to figure out what he was feeling. His confession of love that had your heart in your throat, terrified to admit anything close to the feeling before you were thousands of miles away. The feeling was there, it was always there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, to open up for the pain you felt the year prior.

His denial of you, yours of him — looking back, you can’t blame Joel for these hiccups, just like you can’t blame yourself. He was only trying to figure it out. It was all new to him, navigating a life with you in it was something he hadn’t had to do before, hadn’t imagined before.

You’re in the exact same state, each and every day. And it made you so afraid to be all in, the uncertainty of life blinding you to actually opening up.

Fingers have paused their movements in his hair, Joel stirring awake against your chest when your touch leaves him completely. His head is tilted to face you, masked in an expression that you can’t quite read. Comfortable, drowsy, affectionate. Half asleep, droopy eyes find your own, holding your gaze as he breaks the quiet and stillness of the bedroom with a gravelly voice.

“Was thinking about you in my sleep just now.”

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about, baby?”

“How you’re my best friend.” The arm slung around your middle tightens as a goofy smile finds its way to his lips. “D’you know that, Mari?”

Looking at him, in that simple moment, a realization dawned on you as if it was the most obvious discovery.

He’s the only one you want to be figuring it out with.

“I love you, Joel.”

It comes out meeker than you wanted for this first-second time around, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the complete and utter quiet of the early morning hours.

A dreamy but wide grin stretches across his face, waking him up a bit more in the moment. He picks up his head from your chest, sitting up a few inches to look you properly in the eyes as he asks, “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I love you,” you can barely get it out without a happy giggle tagging on the end, barely squeaking the last syllable out before Joel’s skittering kisses all over your face, that same wide grin on his lips.

“Say it again, please, Mari.”

“I love you, J. I’m so in love with you.”

His attack on your face and neck continues, his own chuckles mixing with your giggles, his arm tightening around you and fingers tickling your sides.

“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?” he questions, pausing his peppered kisses to give you a tender one on your lips, that same goofy grin knocking your teeth together.

Before you respond, or he asks for you to say it again, Joel takes a pause to look into your eyes head on. Silence overcomes the room again, goofy grin morphing into a sweet, softened smile of his. Disbelief painted across his face as he took you in, shaking his head.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre. I love you, Mari. Always.”

“I love you, Joel.”

Holding your eyes for a moment longer, there’s a shift in the air from the giddy confession. Joel inches down, connecting your lips in a ghosting kiss, your lips following his to feel more. After a beat, the kiss heats up, slow and sensual. His hands roam your sides, hiking up the material of your sleep shirt and pressing his palm against your exposed skin.

There’s no break in the embrace, only pushing further to feel each other closer and constant. The slight lack of oxygen, the breathlessness of it all, is making your head airy and dizzy, limbs tingling with electricity when you slip your fingers under the collar of his t-shirt. In the moment, you could drown in the feeling of Joel’s lips against yours.

The only breaths you get are when he separates from your lips to pull your shirt over your head and then follows it with his own, easily sipping your elastic waistbands down your legs again. You kick off the material from your ankles while he strips out of his own shorts and boxers, messy kisses shared while your hands skate over his bare skin. Fingertips work to memorize the dips and peaks, the trail of hair from his belly button down. Joel’s own hands explore your curves, relishing in the softness of your skin.

He pulls away from your mouth, breathless and blown pupils before he rasps out, “I love you so much, Mariposa. Got no clue who I’d be if I didn’t meet you…You’re it for me.”

Your voice is thick with emotion, one hand tangling your fingers with the hair at the back of his head, “I love you, J. It’s only you, s’always been you.”

Joel’s hand lifts one of your legs to bend next to his hip, lining himself at your entrance before he slowly thrusts in, savoring the feeling of you around him, body pressed against his skin in every place possible. Airy moans muffle into and against each other’s lips as he fills you up, the rhythm of his movements languid and steady. The pace is reeling your brain into a building of pleasure, whispers from Joel adding to the euphoric adoration between the two of you.

“My beautiful girl, so perfect. Love everything about you, sweet girl. M’so lucky to have you…Mine forever, right Mari baby? Mi hermosa, mi amor. I love you, fuck, I love you so much, Mari. Always got me feeling like m’floating around you, like I got a butterfly flapping it’s wings in my chest with how giddy you make me feel with just one look. Mi mariposa. My butterfly. Mine…”

The words are absorbing with each shallow breath you take, nodding along to his ramblings and feeling tears well against your waterline. Hands grip hard onto his shoulders, folding yourself around him tighter as you leave lingering kisses along his profile.

“Yours, J, yours always. I love you so fucking much—Oh my god, you’re everything to me, baby.”

“Never letting you go again. My girl, my fucking beautiful girl. Gonna make you mine forever, gonna make you my wife, mi esposa, one day, sweet, perfect girl. You’re made for me, Mari. Mi media naranja. (My other half.)”

His thrusts pick up only slightly, but enough to spill the tears waiting at the brink of your eyes, Joel’s mouth catching each one with featherlight kisses. Sitting right at the edge, your eyes lock with his, vision slightly blurred from the tears continuing to fall. Joel’s features fill the vignette, hooked nose, pillowy lips, soft brown eyes, olive skin sprinkled with crinkles around his eyes, subtle lines at his forehead. Nothing more beautiful to you than those parts making up the whole of him.

“Te amo, te amo, J. I love you, baby…”

His breath catches in his throat, smile spreading as his nose nudges against yours to speak against your lips.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Los amo a todos, cada poco. Eres todo lo que podría haber soñado y más (I love all of you, every bit. You're everything I could have ever dreamed of and more). I will spend every day earning your love and giving you all of mine.”

The words you understood have your frayed edges pulled taut, snapping one at a time as your brain floods with pleasure. Your walls flutter around his cock, your leg hooks into his ass to drive him further inside to fill you up. It is only a moment longer before he’s spilling into you, your name falling from his lips over and over as he searches for your lips in his state of ecstasy.

One last heavy kiss is shared before he slumps onto you, similar position to the start of all this; his head on your chest, strong form curled around you and his eyes closed. It last for a moment, your fingers playing with his hair, before he’s pushing himself up to hang over your torso, tender eyes studying your messy hair and blissed out face.

A smile crosses your lips, eyes sparkling even with the lights out in the room and the curtains only cracked apart to let moonlight stream in.

“Gonna make me your wife one day, huh?” you tease as you look up at him from your spot laying back on the mattress, crumpled sheet pulled over top of your naked body.

Joel rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over you and smiling, “As if you didn’t know that from the first time I spoke to you. Knew you were trouble from the start, just turned out to be the best kind of trouble.”

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juniperhillpatient · 3 months

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I have such mixed feelings about The Puppetmaster & I have similar mixed feelings about Jet (the episode) though I didn’t talk about that this rewatch because I was too busy being excited to see Jet (the character).

I do love that ATLA’s continued theme is that everyone is complex, even villains & that people can do good things for bad reasons & bad things for good reasons & nothing is black & white. And I’m not totally opposed to the narrative criticism of violence toward civilians in a war particularly because at the end of the day ATLA is a children’s show & it is going to have some simple messages like to be kind - something I think a lot of adult fans forget in our analysis.

However I’m bothered I guess by the way Hama & Jet’s stories…. End? We don’t need to talk about my hatred for Lake Laogai & the way Jet’s death is handled (or not handled) in the aftermath right this second. I have about 8 million posts about that. I want to highlight the way Hama’s story begins & ends.

It really bothers me that Hama’s backstory is fucking BRUTAL. I mean she was the LAST Southern Water Bender. Take that in. Do you ever think of all the water bending moves & forms Katara will never learn or understand the history of fully because that art & knowledge was lost? It was stolen & ripped away along with all those lives. And Hama was tortured in prison for years. And yet. And yet. The story is framed so that what we remember is that blood bending is spooky & evil.

I would have loved if the show just once more showed a situation where bloodbending was necessary & Katara used it to show that this form was important to learn for the story. I would have loved if Hama didn’t have to go back to Fire Nation prison & that’s framed as a good thing.

There are slight modifications to Hama & Jet’s stories that I think would help with the rather insidious message that ends up coming across that victims of colonial violence better be careful so as not to fight back the Wrong Way & be discarded / executed / put away (as they deserve).

#atla rewatch 2024 #Hama #the puppetmaster

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oonajaeadira · 1 year

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This Will Be The Day That I Spy - Part 1: Blindsided

Fandom: Kingsman: The Golden Circle / Jack Daniels

Pairing: Jack Daniels x f!reader

Reader: Bold, smart female, not easily fazed, always open for an adventure. Has a chemistry degree and is a spirits distiller by trade. No physical descriptions, no use of y/n.

Rating: T

Warnings: darkness, enclosed spaces, and Jack Daniels being a flirt.

Summary: A blind date with Jack Daniels does not go according to anyone’s plan…and that’s what makes it interesting.

A/N: For my March entry for Year of Tropes as part of @yearofcreation2023 we’re going for BLIND DATE+. The + is there because I couldn’t decide between two tropes for this fic, so there will be another one tackled in part two.

It was the construction that pushed you in the door to the swanky Manhattan high-rise. Ginger wasn’t kidding, this guy must be loaded. Not your usual fare, rich guys, but Ginger assured you he was a sweet, Southern gentleman…if you could get past the hokey name. And the corny compliments. And something about a belt buckle….?

“I’m not looking for a sugar daddy, Ginge,” you’d pleaded over the video call. “If that’s what he’s expecting–”

“It’s not. Believe me. I only suggested he meet with you to springboard your network in New York and look over your portfolio. He’s impressed with your background and your work at Herlot Watt, but…” your old friend’s lips pressed together in an otherwise controlled flickered moment of frustration, “then he saw your picture and asked me what you were like when we were in college and I figured I’d just cut to the chase and set you up. One thing you should know about Jack is that he thinks he’s being subtle. But that man is never subtle.”

“So you’re saying he’s rich but tedious and you think that’s a good match for me.”

“No! I’m sorry. No.” She adjusted her horn-rimmed glasses, doing her best to hide a knowing smile. “Jack is…he tries. He’s a romantic at heart. He really is. But he’s been alone too long and I think he knows it.”

“Wait. Is this that CEO that flirts with every woman he sees? That one boss that irritates you to hell???”

Ginger let out a long, measured breath. “Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“You forget that I was trained in a multitude of forensics. And I know when you’re lying.”

“You know when I’m lying because we shared an apartment and you’ve held my hair while I was puking.”

“That too.” Ginger was never known for having a tender heart, but every once in a while, she’d let you see it. “Listen, dearest. I promise you, his personality fills up a room. But I’ve known him long enough to see that it’s a diversionary tactic. He’s got a deep core of honor in him. And if you meet him and sparks don’t fly, he will still open doors for you in the distilling biz, I promise.”

“This is the Manners Maketh Man guy, isn’t it.”

“I didn’t realize I’d told you so much about him.”

“Less told and more complained. You’re throwing me to the wolves here, Ginge. At least tell me he’s good looking.”

One sly corner of her mouth raised. “He does alright. I think you’ll find him acceptable to your tastes.”

“What’s that look for??”

“Nothing,” she cooly mused, “I’m just curious to see if my hypothesis is correct. Friday night, 7pm, rooftop restaurant of the Calgary Suites. I’ll send you the coordinates. Enjoy.”

As she leaned forward to end the call you told her to “wait–I’m not one of your experiments!” but with a click she was gone, nothing but a white afterimage on a black screen in glorious negative relief.

Well. If nothing else, he sounded like a challenge. And you like a good challenge.

So on a balmy Friday night you found yourself gaping up up up the reach of the Calgary against the twilit sky, towering over Central Park at your back, smelling the reek of a life too expensive for your tastes and instinctively turning on your heel to walk away.

What stopped you was the restoration scaffolding enclosing the building under which you were standing. Or rather, the way it shuddered. And the way a large pole fell on its end with a clang to the sidewalk where you’d just passed a moment ago, tipping slowly out into the street. Nobody was hurt but the screams and concrete crack and sudden blaring of horns spelled out a true disaster in front of you.

Where someone else might have been rattled and shocked, all it did was give you perspective.

Fuck it. Let’s do this. Can’t be a worse disaster than this, right?

“I can call up for you, ma’am. What suite?” The doorman at your elbow brings you back to the moment.

“Uh, no, uh, I’m sorry. Daniels? I’m actually meeting him at the rooftop restaurant.”

“This way, ma’am. So sorry about all of this.” He seems nervous, a little shaken by the victimless accident outside, anxious to put all to rights and it looks like you’re something he can fix. You follow him to the elevator bank, letting the sleek extravagance of the lobby wash over you.

Once an elevator arrives, there’s a swipe of a key card, a little door opens to a small button that gets tapped, a friendly nod, and the doorman backs out of the elevator, smiling as the door quietly slides shut.

Well. That decides that then. Might as well just ride this out.

Looking at your reflection in the polished doors, you try to see yourself for the first time. Are you shoddy looking? At least clean and tidy? Would you ever find yourself really fitting in at a place like this? A little lip tint might help, if for nothing than confidence…

In an attempt to look at anything but yourself, you reach into your purse to find a gloss or lipstick or balm, something with some color, and are so occupied that when the elevator stops and the doors open, you simply step back and to the side to let the new passenger in.

Once you’re in upward motion again, you find what you’re looking for, turning to apply it in the reflection of the polished wall. Finishing and taking in the final effect, a smooth baritone rolls from behind you.

“Pardon me, ma’am, but are you–”

You just start to turn–just enough time to catch a black Stetson and tie, a charcoal blazer and painted-on denim, just enough time to register the deep chestnut hair and mustache, just a fleeting twinkle of a dark eye and a silver buckle–before the world goes black.

A jolt shakes the box you’re in and it comes to a rude halt, then another harsher one as the generator initially kicks in but fails before it’s begun, and you feel yourself stumbling backward through a pitch black void, banging your shoulder and then head against a polished metal wall.

“Owwwwww.” A bright light pierces the blackout; not from the spark of pain but rather a phone flashlight. “Hey!”

“My apologies,” your fellow passenger says and the light swings out of your eyeline. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just…surprised.”

“Okay, that’s good. Hold on a minute, sugar.” The light goes out, replaced by the display backlight shining onto the man. It’s dimmer, but you can make out his thumb tapping out a few numbers and the line of a strong jaw as he lifts the phone up to his ear. “We’ll see what’s spooked the horses.” A few distant rings. A few more.

Sugar? Sugar?? Excuse him??? Wait. No. Wait. Is he–

A distant answer through the phone. “Sir?”

The man is calm and steady, respectful and patient. “Howdy, Jones. I’m in elevator 3 with another passenger and we’re in a stall and blackout. What’s the situation?”

“I’m so sorry, sir! We think it might be the construction outside, perhaps a wiring issue. There was an accident. We’re working to get it fixed as soon as we can. Are you alright?”

“Yes, yes, we’re fine. No worries. You wanna call up top and let them know I’m going to be late for my reservation?”

“Of course Mr. Daniels. Although, they’ll be in blackout too; the whole building is… Oh! Your guest was just–”

“Yes, she’s in here with me. I believe…” He turns to face you in the shadows as if he can see you past the light of his phone.

The silence that follows is a bit too long and fills itself with the collection of regrets–the outside accident, the elevator stop, the darkness, being stuck in a box with the potential employer slash begrudgingly blind date that you’d rather meet under literally any other circumstance. What a disaster.

And then you realize that the silence is too long and it’s your fault, that he’s waiting for you to confirm who you are and you stutter out a “Yes. Yes, it’s me, I’m…I’m your–” just as he is about to ask you again.

“Yeah, it’s her, Jones. I got ‘er.”

“I guess that’s both a good and bad thing, sir. But at least you both have company, right?”

“Jones.”

“Sorry, Mr. Daniels. Just trying to make light. Ha! No pun intended!” The doorman’s laugh roars and then awkwardly fades through the receiver. “We’ll do our best to get you up and running again, sir.”

An abrupt return to absolute blackness comes when the call ends and you hear a small shuffle as he puts his phone back into his blazer pocket. Then there’s a beep--like a notification--but he doesn’t answer it. “Well shit, you went through the effort to put the last shine on the boot and I don’t even get to enjoy it.”

“The…boot?”

“The lipstick? Your face.”

“Excuse me?” Ooof. This guy really has some kind of cowboy schtick going on.

A chuckle in the darkness. “I’m Jack. Ginger’s told me a lot about you. Said you had some bite.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Daniels,” you say, hoping your voice carries a smile rather than the tingle in your spine. “I assure you I’m harmless. If there was light, I’d shake your hand.”

“I prefer Jack. And if there was light, I’d most likely kiss your cheek in a gentlemanly manner.”

Wow. Wasting no time in the flirtation then. From any other strange man in close proximity, this should be too forward. But incredibly, intuitively, you know he means no harm. Ginger wouldn’t hook you up with anyone who was a threat, and obviously he knows that any bad step on his part would be reported.

But it is his voice that gives you calm. His voice in the dark. Deep. Mannerly. Steady. With a twang that is on track to becoming a big distraction.

You’re self aware enough to realize you made a mistake on your way here. You had already decided that the date was a minor hurdle to get through in order to meet your networking goal, that these business types weren’t your style and that you’d shake hands and leave with nothing more than a little professional support.

It had been a subliminal, foregone conclusion. At no point had you seriously expected to have your head turned.

But he’s said all of a few sentences to you–all of them polite, gentle, and smoothly southern…

…And it’s working on you.

You can feel your face start to burn and even though it’s impossible to see anything in any direction, you still smile hard in the direction of your shoes. It would be nice to be kissed on the cheek by a man with that voice. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all?

“You still with me, darlin’?” It’s smooth and sweet, a perfect balance of charm and attempting not to be a threat or take up the whole room, even as tiny as it is.

“Hmm? Oh, yes… I was just wondering,” you peer in his direction out of habit, trying to find him in the void, “what brought you here.”

The careful calm cracks and a little cornball shows through. “Well you did, sugar. I believe we had a blind date. Although, this is awfully literal.”

You can feel your face squinching up, suppressing a laugh–a hopeless endeavor that fails–and it’s pleasantly surprising at how instantly you are won over. “I meant Manhattan! I assume you’re not from here…your accent…”

“Ah that,” he purrs, laying it on thicker for your benefit. “I am a Southern boy born and bred. But someone had to run Statesman’s New York branch, so I slung myself into the saddle, and here I ride.”

“I suppose the cowboy act is helpful for the brand….charming investors…subliminal suggestion of authenticity…”

There’s a sharp intake from his corner. “Sweetheart! I can assure you there is no act. I grew up on a fair few ranches and have one myself.”

“Really? With the horses and everything.”

“With the horses and everything. Did you say ‘charming?’”

There’s something so freeing about knowing your expressions are masked. But no doubt the delight comes through. “Can you do lasso tricks?”

“I might know a few.”

How does he do sincere and suggestive at the same time? Ginger said he wasn’t subtle, but he certainly has nuance.

The sudden image of a tall, dark, handsome cowboy and his lasso running around New York sends your imagination rolling though. Clapping a hand over your mouth to hide your sudden smile isn’t necessary, just a reflex. Thank god he can’t see what a giggling mess he’s making of you.

He’s ridiculous.

And you love it.

What on earth has gotten into you?

Too fast. Too fast. Calm down.

“So..has this happened before?”

Your question hangs in the darkness.

And then....keeps hanging.

He’s been quick to respond up until now. Did you say something wrong? Is he thinking back? It’s hard to say why, but his pause raises the hair on the back of your neck.

But it’s only a matter of seconds before he gently eases the silence open. “What do you mean by that, sugar?”

“Ah…the elevator? Does it break down like this often? You don’t seem particularly stressed out by it.”

“I would point out that you seem pretty calm yourself.”

You shrug needlessly. “There’s no reason not to be. There’s ventilation. Standard codes will have a secondary cable system in place and there’s no way we can fall unless the cords are severed, which is unlikely. Worst case scenario is that we have to hand pry the door open and either crawl up or drop down… I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that, but I’m sure the both of us could handle it. The only reason I’d have to be afraid is because I’m trapped in a lightless box with a man I don’t know and might need to defend myself.”

“And I bet you could defend yourself.” His drawl deepens when he’s delighted.

Noted.

“I have a feeling I’m not going to have to.”

“No, ma’am.” There’s a shared, sweet and nervous laugh between you and you have a distinct image in your mind of those dark eyes crinkling at the edges. You’d wager he has a beautiful smile. You’d wager more that he has a cowboy grin–lopsided and dopey, but somehow just as charming as that twang. And just as you’re reminding yourself to slow down your flirting again, it seems he’s had the same thought. “These old buildings do have their quirks. A breakdown isn’t unheard of. So...how does a master distiller know so much about elevator mechanics?”

“Well, first of all, just ‘distiller.’ I’d like to be a master someday. Furthest I’ve been is head distiller. Secondly, I’m sure Ginger told you that we were undergrad together, started off on the same track, but I stuck with the chemistry and she went into the physics… we kind of learned a lot from each other. I don’t remember talking about elevators specifically? But it’s funny what just happens to stick in the memory banks.”

“I see.” Strange. He seems slightly perplexed with that answer and lets his reaction drag as if he’s formulating his follow up question. “And then you took off for Herlot Watt.”

“That’s right.”

“What sticks in your memory banks about that?”

Ah. He’s switched to the more professional side of the questions. That can be appreciated. After all, Ginger did say that he could help you along even if the date didn’t go well. And since it seemed almost certain to go well, it’s gentlemanly for him to save it for better lighting–with a table and a meal between you--and spend this trapped time getting the dryer and safer questions out of the way.

“Well, my postgraduate studies were–”

“Oh I know about your studies. I’ve read. I’m talking about your time in Ed-in-burrow. Did you enjoy it there? What’s something you learned that wasn’t taught in their books?”

“Edinburgh is beautiful. The history, the shadows and light…I can still smell the bitter florals of the old perfumery from the little side street I lived on…I guess I learned… well, I mean, the air is in the whiskey there. And I learned that you can’t force a spirit to be what it’s not. Every spirit you distill will have its history in it–the local water in the wash, the particular ions in the soil that grow the barley in your mash, the sweetness or bitterness of the wood used for the barrels…even those change from forest to forest in the same region. If you pay enough attention, you can see the thread of the chemical makeup in each spirit as you drink it, each one unique, even if you don’t have the knowledge of its path to the present, you still know there’s a signature experience there…”

Another long silence.

“Sounds like you’re pretty perceptive to your senses and your surroundings.”

“Your cologne has cedar and tonka in it, I can tell you that.”

An amused chuckle that ends in a drawn out note, “Well shit. Thus ends the interview section of our meeting. I’m sure Statesman can put your talents to good use.”

“Oh, I’d love that–”

“But tell me. Did you ever get out of the city? Go exploring the countryside?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. If I was too wound up in studies, I’d pick the closest castle on the map I hadn’t gone to yet and go take a drive out to the country. It was gorgeous. That became like my little pastime and reward all wrapped up in one.”

“You ever visit the North Berwick area?”

It takes you a moment to scan your mental map. “On the coast? Yes, actually, Tantallon Castle was kind of a go-to place when I needed to get out of the city and spend some time by the sea. Do you know it?”

“I do, actually. So you’re familiar with the area.”

“Oh yeah. There’s a little abbey hotel I booked a few long weekends in that had the best meat pies I’ve ever had. The woman who ran the place had this little Westie she’d dress in a tartan that she’d allow me to walk in the mornings on my roamings…” It’s a happy memory, one you wish had more time to pour over, but don’t have the advantage of reading his expression to know if it would be boring or not. “Wow. I haven’t thought about that place in a while.”

“You think you still know how to get around?”

You blink in the dark. An odd question. “I…think so?”

“Would you like to go back?”

Something’s wrong, and your eyebrows know it as surely as you do, pulling together as you try to keep your voice casual and innocent. “I…guess I wouldn’t mind a visit? Why? Would Statesman Distillery require me to have more training?”

Tilting an ear to him, you listen hard. A shift of feet or a shallow breath or a change in speaking tempo can belie a lot and he’s suddenly being strangely persistent in this questioning line.

“Not exactly. Ginger said you were pretty good with the dialect in that area.”

“It’s thick, but it’s not like it’s Glaswegian.”

“But she said you were a good mimic.”

“That’s…weird. Why would she tell you that?” Your senses go on full alert.

“You ever ramble on through the caves in the cliffside there?”

“I heard there were caves, but I’d never gone, don’t want to get sucked in by high tide.” What the hell kind of questions are these?

“You ever meet a man at the University name of Barclay–”

“What?”

“No. You stop! I’m ending this.”

The sharp retort is an abrupt change in character from the urban cowboy you’ve just started to get to know, and you naturally step back and put your hands up in a defensive stance. “I…what? Did I say something–”

Your companion’s voice suddenly gains an edge, authoritative, impatient, an irritation gradually salting the earth. “Yes, I can see that. Listen, I can trust your word on this but you know patience is not my main quality and she’s not dumb. Look at her. She’s seein’ through all of this already so I would appreciate the opportunity not to beat around the bush this one time. Yes, I know! But this is my assignment now and drawing this out is not the way to build trust–”

“Ah…excuse me? You can see what, exactly?”

“--no signs of stress, high perception, the skills are there! I know what I’m about and the damage is done. Turn on the damn lights, Ginger.”

Squinting against the sudden brightness as the elevator lights flicker on, you catch sight of Jack Daniels across from you in full for the first time. You weren’t mistaken, he is decidedly handsome and well-kempt, big hands on slim hips, head tilted back and watching you intently with dark eyes through the bottom of his glasses…

You don’t remember seeing the glasses.

“Over speaker, Ginger. She can’t hear you though the tech.”

Your friend’s tense voice reverberates from above. “Yes, thank you I know.”

“Ginge?” you ask into the air. “What the hell.”

“My old friend…I’m so so sorry about this. This isn’t really how I wanted this to go. I promise you there’s an explanation. I need you to breathe. And relax. You’re going to break that railing, sweetie.”

You suddenly take stock of your back pressed against the metal walls of the elevator, hands gripping the brass railing that runs along at waist height like you need to brace yourself, a contradiction to a fight or flight response. “Wait.” Your gaze bounces to the four corners of the ceiling searching for a camera. “You can see me?”

Jack taps the frame of his glasses and the notification sound you’d heard earlier in the dark pings again. Sliding them off his face, folding them in a huff and jamming them in his breast pocket he smirks, “Not anymore, she can’t.”

“Whiskey–”

“Dammit, Ginger… You gonna do this, or am I?”

There’s a tense moment as Jack glares you down and your friend heaves an audible sigh.

“Jack is going to explain some things. It’s going to be a lot, but I’m going to need you to trust him. Like you trust me.”

“I don’t understand–”

“I know, dearest. But you will.”

Turning to Jack Daniels, you find him easy, smiling, and extending a hand across the small space toward you, putting on all the charm. “Let’s start over. Howdy. I’m Jack Daniels, CEO of the New York branch of Statesman Distilling, and high-ranking operative for the covert espionage agency it covers. Code name: Whiskey.”

You find yourself reaching for him through your shock, propelled by Ginger’s assurance, Jack’s return to confidence and warmth, and your own curiosity kicking in. “Espionage…. You’re a spy?”

“Yes ma’am,” he winks as his fingers curl around yours. “Ginger too, if you can believe it. And–wouldn’t you know it–we’re recruiting.”

“They just called in a reboot of the whole building system,” Ginger warns. “It will probably be fifteen minutes before that takes. I can reliably give you ten. Without interruption, Jack should be able to tell you what you need to know, so keep your questions for the dinner table. I’ll scramble the mics and be back right before go.”

Dropping your hand to tap a button on his overlarge watch, Jack nods. “In ten, copy. Now then, sugar,” he hums at you, “let’s begin with Statesman.”

Over the following ten minutes, Jack explains the agency that coexists with the whiskey business, as well as its several fraternal organizations throughout the world, how Ginger came to be a part of it, why she had to keep it a secret from you, and will continue to do so if you decline the invitation to join–memory wipe, painless, no big deal, done right here in the elevator and the date continues as if none of this happened. But the background checks and paperwork are all done, you’ll need minimal training, and there’s time for that before you depart for your mission in Edinburgh–

“Mission? Wait. What? I thought you wanted me to work in the distillery–”

“Of course,” Jack explains, “there’s that too, but we need your skills and expertise and boots on the ground for this one. You know the area, as an alum you have an in at the University. You don’t have to do anything tactical. Not to worry, that’s my department and I’ll be right there with you–”

“So this was all some elaborate set up for what? To feel me out? Some kind of stress test?”

His thumbs hook into his belt loops as he settles into one hip, his chin chasing a raised eyebrow. “Why? Do I cause you stress, darlin’?”

Oh shit. That pulls your reins up short. You have no answer to this. Well. None that you’d like to admit out loud anyway. His chest is so broad. And it’s right there. And his shirt pulls against it when he stands like that…

Beside the point. Focus.

“But…why on earth would you want a spirits chemist on a spy mission?”

A wry smile pulls at one corner of his mustache as he catches you looking. “You said so yourself; there’s a lot of useful stuff in that memory bank of yours.”

“Yes, but–”

“Are you seriously underestimating the importance of chemistry?”

You might have protested further, made him understand that chemistry is noble but that you can’t wield it like a weapon; you use it for mixing compounds not for unveiling secrets. But the gentle swagger with which he closes the gap between you stops the words from coming. And the smooth and measured way he pulls you into the circle of his arms stops your head from thinking. All this just before he presses his lips to your cheek….

In a gentlemanly manner.

Ah. That chemistry.

“Is this…still a date?” You don’t mean to whisper, but your voice seems to be on an inconvenient hiatus.

His cheek hums next to yours, honeyed twang circling your ear. “Seems a shame to waste a good dinner reservation. And good company. You disapprove?”

“No. But,” pulling back an inch or two, you swallow and do your best not to look him in the eye at this close proximity. Somehow, that’s supposed to keep him from hearing your heart booming. “I thought you said you’d wipe my memory before this continues as a date.”

“I never said the two scenarios were mutually exclusive. There’s no rule says agents can’t co-mingle. And if there were such rules…well, shit,” tipping his head down to hook your eye, “They’ve never built a fence this buck can’t jump.”

“Seems unprofessional.”

“That’s what makes it fun, sugar.”

“Jack! I leave you alone for ten minutes–” Ginger’s chiding echoes from the speaker above. “You’re deviating from the plan.”

He steps back to assess your bemused smile. “I beg to differ. I told you I’d be flirtin’ to get what I want. Never specified that ‘what I want’ stopped at information.”

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea so soon–”

“I do, Ginge,” you call into the air while holding Jack’s steady gaze. “How did you put it? ‘Acceptable to my tastes?’ You know me better than anyone. I find it hard to believe that you’d trap me in a box with a sturdy, handsome man of mystery and expect me not to rise to the challenge.”

In the short silence that follows, you can almost hear Ginger fume. You can certainly see Jack grin.

“Jack. If you mess this up or hurt her, I will replace your entire glandular system with a colony of pigeon ticks.”

He gives a stoic nod, mostly for your benefit. “Odd choice of pest, but copy that. In the meantime–”

He makes it official by stepping forward and offering an elbow.

And you seal the deal by looping your arm through it.

“--order up. One box of Whiskey and Rye to the rooftop patio.”

You can’t recall the last time you gave over to the power of “well hell why not” like this. There’s something about him that is instantly trustworthy and you can’t wait to find out what it is. In the meantime, the reflection that you two make in the elevator doors tells you all you need to know; it’s a story in itself, an epic meet cute, an adventure in the making.

There’s a lurch as the elevator begins to climb, but this time you stay steady on your feet; he makes sure of that.

As the doors slide open, the picture of you on the arm of this new challenge splits to reveal a quiet patio restaurant under the stars. All the tables are empty but for the one in the center–a lone candle burning, and a setting for two.

“An arranged elevator stall. A fully reserved restaurant. The offer of a job and possible espionage. What else do you have up your sleeve, cowboy?”

As an answer, he flexes slightly, his bicep pushing at the blazer fabric under your hand. “Possible espionage? You still havin’ doubts? You hold onto these guns, sugar, and follow my lead. I will happily persuade you.”

Stepping out into the night together, you close your eyes and let him guide you to the table. “You know what, cowboy? I think I might happily allow you to.”

A chuckle. “What do you reckon? Best blind date ever?”

“Best blind date ever.”

________

MASTERLIST

CHARACTER MASTERLIST

#kingsman golden circle fanfiction #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #year of tropes #jack daniels x blind date

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deancaspinefest · 3 months

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Significant severe

Author: Tossukka | Artist: girlinthemirrorbluenight

Posting on Monday March 25

A TV meteorologist Castiel Novak believes storm chasers who livestream their adventures online must only be looking for adrenaline rushes from dangerous situations. When an attractive storm chaser Dean Winchester and Castiel meet at their shared alma mater’s alumni event, they end up arguing over the issue. To show Castiel the realities of his work, Dean invites Castiel to join him on a chase for a few weeks. Castiel is intrigued, and unexpectedly, his employer agrees to let him count it as field work. After their disastrous first meeting, Castiel expects to share a civil but distant working relationship with Dean. And yet, in the volatile atmosphere of the tornado season, both the storms and Castiel’s attraction to Dean grow more intense day by day.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“Now, now, storm chasers are an important part of the weather industry. You know that as well as I do, Castiel,” a man said speaking in a British accent. “Personally I just don’t think the people who voluntarily drive themselves in the middle of what is often hell on Earth can be in their right minds. They end up blocking the roads and making an already dangerous situation even more so,” the one who had been called Castiel said. Dean frowned. “But they do good too. Collect data, confirm warnings, save lives.” “I’m only saying I believe they must have some self-destructive tendencies, that is all.” Dean couldn’t listen more without interrupting. “Excuse me?” he said and pushed his way to the two men. “Sorry for pushing my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I couldn’t help overhearing the discussion.” The dark-haired man’s bright blue eyes widened a little as he saw Dean. There was a hint of recognition in them, and Dean suspected the man already knew who he was. “Heh, my name is Dean Winchester. Well, I work as a storm chaser among other things. Your discussion sounded interesting,” Dean introduced himself. “Oh-ho! There we go, Cassie. You can talk to a professional about your suspicions,” the British guy said. “Call me Balthazar, Dean. Nice to meet you.” Even in the middle of his annoyance, Dean couldn’t help noticing Castiel was just his type. Except that he was clearly an asshole. Well no, that also had been very much Dean’s type over the years. Shit. “So Cas, you think I like risking my life for cheap thrills then?” Dean asked, not bothering to beat around the bush. Castiel frowned. “Don’t you?” “Oh dude, it’s so much more than that. I can admit there’s an element of thrill being so close to the greatest forces of nature, but just so you know, storm chasers take a lot of cautionary measures to keep themselves safe during chasing,” Dean said. “It’s not just aimlessly driving around like maniacs and blocking roads from other citizens. There’s a lot of science connected to it, and a bit of experience needed to keep yourself and others out of trouble.” “I don’t doubt that, Dean,” Castiel said. “I’m sure you are very good at what you do. But you are putting yourself needlessly in danger.” “I’m not,” Dean said. “Listen, have you ever been storm chasing?” “No.” “Okay then,” Dean said. “How about this? Do you want to join me for the peak of the Southern Plains tornado season? Let’s say May? Two weeks, full month, whatever works for you. Get a taste of the cheap thrills.” “I…” Cas hesitated. “I don’t think I can take that much time off work.” “I’ll give you some time to consider,” Dean said and pulled out his business card. Charlie had designed them, and they had a little drawn picture of his beloved Impala driving towards a looming comic book version of a tornado next to his name. “Call me if you want to try it.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday March 25)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: Tossukka #artist: girlinthemirrorbluenight #Enemies to friends to lovers #road trip #alternate universe - scientists

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tojisbbygworl · 10 months

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BEYONCÉ?- Miles Morales Imagine

This is literally just a stupid little idea I thought of when I saw the Beyoncé Spidersona that Sony posted

“Could this day get any damn weirder?”

Miles looked to his left just in time to dodge the T-Rex coming at him in full speed. He didn’t have time to collect himself before more barrages of Spider people began running into him. “I guess it can.”

There was no time to think, all he could do was run, shoot, and flip. He doesn’t even know where he’s going for real. He just has to get the hell out of there.

Even though he’s panicking, he considers that he’s doing a pretty good job at avoiding Miguel. But when he looks up, he sees the hundreds of Spidermen ready to jump at him on Miguel’s command. “There’s no where to run.”

Yeah that’s what that guy thinks. Miles turns and busts out the window wasting no time.

As he plummets through the air, he has time to collect himself. But, since he just can’t catch a break, he hears a loud buzzing sound behind him. He turns in the air to come face to face with a…spider…bee…lady?

Her outfit is black and yellow with a large mask fitting over her face. The mask was more of a helmet if anything, and had long antennas coming out of the top. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair…and she was flying right at him.

“Oh come the fuck on!” He tries to turn back around but before he can hit the ground, he feels a web on his back. Then he get pulled through the air. He tries desperately to reach around and grab the string, but it’s hard when you’re being flung through the air by a crazy bee woman.

She slams him into a building creating a crater for him to rest in. He shakes his head and looks at her hovering in the air in front of him. “I ain’t never heard of a flying spider.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “My name is Spider-Bey.”

Miles furrows his brows. Her voice was deep and very southern. It sounds…familiar. Extremely familiar. “Oh okay, so you’re like a Bee and a Spider? That’s cool.”

“Thank you,” she says, her southern drawl coming out even more from excitement. She must have liked his compliment. Then the crazy woman reaches into her back and unsheathes a long, black, and skinny katana, pointing it at him.

“Woah, woah, woah!” Miles begins to frantically back into the crater. “What the hell is that? You just get weirder!”

She presses it to his chest. “I was cool 5 seconds ago now I’m weird? Don’t get stung, boy.” Ohhhh he gets it. It’s her stinger. Because she’s a bee. Bees sting. Ahh, okay.

“Before we continue,” he says gulping. “Do I know you? I feel like I know you.”

“I’m very popular amongst most universes.” She answers simply, not faultering.

Miles pauses…then he perks up a bit. Then he gasps. Before he can say anything, both their spider senses tingle. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, flying herself upwards just before the wall breaks open, courtesy of Miguel and the rest of the spider society. She stares at them falling and chuckles to herself when she hears Miles shout:

That was really fun to write. I hope y’all thought it was cute. I was imagining a mixture between the spidersona outfit in the picture and her America has a problem outfit that she wears during the Renaissance World Tour that I often call Renny Sauce for short:

If I was an artist I would draw what I was thinking but I am not so use ur imagination. Alright that’s all! Imma end this with, get ur tickets for the American leg of the RWT if you haven’t alr. Sry to the European babes

#across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales imagine #spidersona #beyoncé #spiderbey #spideryoncé

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crash-cinematic-universe · 11 months

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Human Resources

Roman Roy/reader (drabble)

~ Having lunch with your problematic boss is about as fun as it sounds (very fun)

warnings: joking about sexual harassment (no actual sexual harassment)

notes: i wanna make this guy meow for me. lil somethin to shake off the cobwebs. this is like a little corny but I forgot how to write good during my hiatus

“I could bludgeon you to death.”

“What?”

Roman almost seems offended by your surprise. He looks at you from across his desk as though he’d asked you the weather and you slapped him across the face. You’d been having a relatively peaceful afternoon–it had been hectic in the office, so you both decided to eat lunch at Roman’s desk. Your conversation had been fine, if maybe a little mundane. You were almost grateful for Roman’s weird outburst for allowing the both of you to fall into your regular routines.

“I feel like, if it really came down to it, I could bludgeon you to death,” He leans forward in his chair. “I’m not saying I want to, I’m just saying if the situation called for it, I wouldn’t, like, struggle.”

“Why the fuck would the situation call for it?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t fucking know, maybe you start PMS-ing and end up taking a swing at me.”

“Jesus, Rome,” you chide, “Is this the kinda shit you fantasize about? Spend a lot of time playing with yourself imagining what it would feel like to bash my brains out?” A part of you is grateful that you've finished your lunch already–this conversation is not working wonders for your appetite.

“Ok, well, now you made it weird.” Roman slumped over in his chair, sitting at an angle that could not have been comfortable. “I was just throwing it out there, no need to get your fuckin’ dick twisted in a knot.”

“Y’know what? I bet you’re wrong,” This catches his attention. “If we got into a fight like that–like, life or death–I could kick your ass.”

“No fucking way, are you kidding? Have you seen yourself?” he pushes himself up where he sits, fitting his legs underneath his body and leaving him perched on his chair like a bird. “You’re, like, 2% muscle and 98% bitch. You can’t even send your drink back if they get your coffee order wrong–I think if you were faced with life-threatening danger, your heart would self-destruct to avoid the conflict. I wouldn’t even have to bludgeon you to death.”

If anybody else was saying this to you, you’d be appalled. Thankfully, you’ve had years of practice fully dedicated to building up your Roman tolerance. “You’re hardly life-threatening, Rome. All I need to do is call you gross, like, once, and you’d be too blinded by weird, horny brain-fog to fight me,” You’re not sure when you rose from your seat and began to lean against his desk, but you pay it no mind. Like clockwork, he rises up on his chair to reach your eye level. He has a smug look on his face that you’d grown increasingly accustomed to.

“You’re disgusting, you know that? I could get you fired for talking to a superior that way, you pervert.” He narrows his eyes at you, and the corners of his mouth quirk upwards. He’s moved closer to you, close enough so that you feel his breath on your face. Too close. You take the opportunity to flick him on the underside of his jaw, and he throws his head backward as though you’d socked him in the nose.

“That’s assault! You just assaulted me! God, Human Resources is going to have a field day with this. The young, naive assistant violently assaulting her boss after making crude, sexual comments about him–feminism really has gone too far.” He leans back toward you, this time straining to seem as though he was towering over you. Instead, he ends up talking to your forehead.

“Please, Roman, you’re being delusional.” His jaw drops.

“And now you’re gaslighting me. I cannot believe I’ve had someone so cruel working for me all these years.” He fans himself like a southern belle. You stifle your laughter at his dramatic display. “You’re toxic, this is toxic. Do you think Greg treats Tom this way? Because I sure don’t.”

“Greg treats me in what way?” Tom’s voice cuts through. Both you and Roman jerk backwards, and for some reason you feel your face heat up. It feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have.

“He treats you like the pretty pillow princess you are, Tom.” Roman quips, seemingly unaffected by Tom’s sudden appearance. Tom’s face contorts strangely, and he lets out a strangled half-scoff-half-laugh while flapping his hand dismissively. You cock an eyebrow at his behavior, which draws out for just a little too long. Tom clears his throat.

“Anyways,” he straightens his tie. Your mind wanders to a late-night conversation you had with Roman where he called Tom a ‘sad, deeply repressed, half-muppet-half-man hybrid’. It becomes clearer everyday that he was spot on. “Kendall asked to see you in his office. I’m not sure what about, but he seemed… frazzled.”

“Frazzled.” Roman repeats, irritated. He turns to you, and for a second, you almost think he looks disappointed. “Duty calls. I’ll have to report you to HR later. Try not to sexually harass anyone else until then, m’kay?”

Before you have a chance to respond, he blows you a kiss and scurries out the door, leaving you and Tom alone in his office. Tom looks at you with his muppet eyes.

“Sexually harass…?”

“Get out, Tom.”

#roman roy x reader #roman roy drabble #succession fanfic #succession #roman roy fanfic

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renren-006 · 10 months

Text

The Hearts Want | Daryl Dixon x reader

Summery: you just cant get him out of your heart. good thing he likes you too, maybe more than you thought

word count: 1806

warning: smutttttyyyy

a/n: ahhhh i just love daryl so much!!!

It was another hot day in the Prison. The heat of summer makes your skin crawl with sweat. You sat out by the picnic tables in the common area. You sat watching the man that was constantly on your mind.

“He's older than you,” Carol pointed out. You knew this, of course you did. It was the one thing that constantly went through your mind whenever you looked over towards the archer.

“I know” You answered, already knowing that some of the members from the other community would rag on you for ever being with him, not that you were.

Daryl had found you in the woods back on the Green farm, you were paranoid, lost and convinced you were going crazy. You were a little older than Beth and just around Maggie's age, but you stayed away from the older Green. Beth became your best friend, saving you from yourself more times than you can point out. While you may be older than her the two of you lived in your youth around each other.

“He's Daryl, he’s harmless plus the world did kinda end” Beth said from beside you at the table. It was just the three of you today, Sasha and Michonne being off somewhere.

“You girls know I trust Daryl, he’s my pookie but he’s weird with feelings”' Carol defended, knowing we only meant to point out the obvious about Daryl. He was a recluse, only hanging around a few and you had only just started to crack his shell.

“He's just so stubborn but so…” You started, your words drifting off not being able to fully say the rest of the sentence out loud.

“Attractive?” Beth supplied for me, you nodded your head. He was handsome and lord did you want to know what he could do with his hands. “Omg stop” Beth squealed from beside you.

“What?” you asked, shocked by your friend's outburst.

“You are thinking about what he would do to you” Beth exclaimed loudly, followed by your hands covering her mouth. The two of you continued to wrestle with each other until the man in question approached the table.

“You girls fighitn’ ov’r here?” He asked, the southern drawl coming out heavy.. You swallowed slowly. Beth kicked you from under the table, you hissed and clutched your leg. “You good darling?” he asked, using that damn nickname again.

“Oh…yea im fine” you told him hesitantly, a small blush crept up your cheeks, making it look like the sun's heat was getting to you. Beth snickers fom beside you. Carol was here to save the day, and more importantly save you.

“I think the girls should go help out Lori with the laundry, hm?” she questioned. You both shot up from the table, saying a small goodbye and dashing back inside the prison to a little bit of cooler air. Carol still sat, and Daryl joined her. He didn't say anything at first, still wondering why you had been acting weird around him.

“It's not my place to tell you so don’t ask'' Carol started, “but the girl has a special place in her heart for you, so don't be mean to her pookie." She stood up from the table, leaving a startled Daryl and walked away.

The days following Carol's words to Daryl he started over thinking many things, the way you looked at him, the small touches, even the way you walked. Every single thing you did clouded his mind till he knew he was in trouble. He figured that it was some sort of cold, then he realized it wasn't a cold that was making him hot it was you. For a week he let his feelings be mulled over, and after having many conversations with Carol and Rick about it he knew he had fallen hard for you. The two of you had not hung out in a while, courtesy of Daryl avoiding you, but you figured he was busy and not that he was grossed out by you. Daryl also avoided you knowing that he was older than you and thinking that it wasn't a good thing to be attracted to a woman significantly younger than himself, but Daryl continued to watch you. He watched you leaving the prison, watched you enter all the while you didn't see any of the looks he gave you. He did this for weeks, just watching you still afraid of the things going through his head.

“Oh pookie” Carol said to her best friend. Darly shook his head.

“Ah! how could i ‘av been so stupid?” Darly asked her, she smiled at him.

“Your not stupid Daryl, just a little blind” She told him, when you walked out of the door to the prison Daryl's eyes immediately found yours. You smiled over at him, someone probably Sasha called your attention away from him and you walked down the gravel path towards the gate. He trailed your body with his eyes, watching the shape of your ass walk away from him. Carol got up and stood beside him, pushing him in your direction. She nodded, giving him a bit of encouragement.

“She’s not going to reject you,”Carol assured the man.

“What if she does?” he asked

“She wont” Carol said, giving him another push. Daryl kept his eyes on you watching the way your hips moved or the placement of your hands. You were talking to Sasha about another potential run for supplies further out, you were willing to go with but needed to check in with Beth and the others in case you had another job they wanted you to do. You didn't want to admit it but you hoped Daryl would be going as well. Daryl walked down the path towards the two of you, Sasha waved him over.

“Hey, I'm trying to get some people to go on another run further out tomorrow. I need you man, your good out there” Sasha told him. He glanced at you.

“You goin’?” he asked, you looked back at Sasha who had some sort of mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Yea, I was planning on it” You told him, he nodded.

“Good, ill see ya’ tomorrow then” he said, walking back up the hill towards Carol.

When the sun rose Sasha, Daryl, Michonne, Bob and yourself met up at the gate. You had on your jeans, a tank and a flannel shirt to keep the sun and the bugs off your arms. The heat of the morning was variable, seeing as the sun hadn't gotten to peak height just yet. You carried your bag with you, loaded with water and a few cans of beans, your hip had your gun holster and an assortment of knives on your belt and boots. You could never be unprepared going out into the world you lived in now. Daryl took in your appearance, turned on by just the sight of you standing there with all your equipment. Once the car was loaded Daryl offered for you to ride with him.

“I don't want to be a burden, I can just ride with everyone else” You told him, he shook his head.

“Nah” Daryl said, “I want ya’ to ride with me.” You hopped on the back of his motorcycle, and hugged his middle, once you got comfortable, and felt the flex of his mussel under his shirt. He didn't flinch, and he didn't move when your hands roamed a little. When the journey started you didn't realize how much the rumble of the motorcycle engine could entice you, or even the way he felt while you were hugging him. Daryl knew that if you stayed on the bike long enough he may have you unraveling. He knew what he did to you, because he watched you too often to know about the hungry looks you gave him. Beth would often slap your arm or flick your head when you were lost in thoughts about him. It made him want you closer, just thinking about the way your eyes looked at him, or the way your mouth contorted when you thought about him long enough. When the group had stopped for the night, in one of the town they had scavenge everyone stayed in the two closest houses. Daryl, Michonne and yourself in one ad the other had Sasha and Bob in the other. The whole night you wished you were next to him, drawing a straggled wine from your mouth. The room you were in was cold, no one else was staying with you since the only bed was yours. Michonne took the room downstairs while you and Daryl took the rooms upstairs. You heard one of the bored squeak outside your door, and a soft nok came from it. You walked over to the door and opened it to find Daryl standing outside your door.

“Daryl?” you asked. Before any more words could leave your mouth he kissed you. It was needy, sweat and a little rough. You felt him move forward making you cling to him and follow his movements. He shut the door behind you before continuing the kiss he had started. You didn’t question it, your mind to hazzy now from the breathless kisses with Daryl. He moved to lay you down on the bed, his hands came to roam over you.

“Woman, you have any idea how many times a day I wanted to do this?” he asked you, feeling his hands all over your skin, he started a trail of kisses down your neck till he found your sweet spot. “How i wanted to see you unravel on my bike, make you ride it out behind me?” His words sent a moan out of your mouth and shivers to travel down to your core. You felt hot in your clothes and attempted to rip them off. Daryl however stopped you, taking the lead by taking them off you himself. “I want to see you squirm, Y/N, I want to see you unravel underneath me as I take you” he told you, and you only nodded our heads. “I need confirmation sweetheart or ill stop right now”

“Yes! Please Daryl” you moaned, you wanted all of him, his mouth, his voice, the throbbing feeling of your core didn’t stop and you couldn't take it. Cloths ended up on the floor and Daryl crouched over you watching you breath. You nodded your head, waiting to feel him inside you. Both of your breathing increased and the moans coming from both of you filled the room. He helped you ride out your orgasm and you did the same for him. His hands fell from your hips and the two of you collapsed on to the bed.

“God Darlin, you really are somthn’’” Daryl said to you.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixion #The Walking Dead

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melzula · 1 month

Text

North and South

part three

pairing: zuko x princess!reader

notes: we’re finally at the end! i hope you guys like some of the changes i made to the original comic storyline :)

summary: with Gilak in jail and the Northerners gone you assume the worst is over, but the festival incident was just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to how far the man is willing to go

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

You don’t understand how everything has gotten so out of control.

What was meant to be a wonderful celebration of your friends’ return home had quickly been ruined Gilak’s ambush, and if not for Katara’s ability to heal Hakoda woukd have lost his life tonight. Tensions are high in the South, and you find yourself overwhelmed with worry for the future of the Water Tribe. If your people can’t even get along with each other, how will you ever be able to connect with the other nations?

“I don’t know what to do,” you admit in defeat as Zuko watches you pace back and forth from his place on your bed. “I know Gilak doesn’t speak for everyone, and for the most part everyone has been onboard with the changes we’ve made to the South, but there are still some Southerners who share his sentiment, and I don’t know how to fix it so that everyone is happy.”

“That’s the thing, y/n,” Zuko corrects you gently, being sure to phrase his words carefully so as to not upset you, “you can’t make everyone happy. It’s impossible. As leader you have to do what’s best for the majority, even if it means not everyone will like it. Just look at the New Ozai Society. They’ll never be happy no matter what I do as Fire Lord, but I don’t let their dislike for my decisions influence how I lead the Fire Nation.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you relent with a dejected sigh, flopping down beside him in defeat and sprawling out onto the blankets. “I just can’t help but feel like I should be doing more as Chief. I didn’t know about Gilak and his army, and I certainly didn’t know about Maliq’s ulterior motives regarding the oil refinery. Shouldn’t I have known?”

“You can’t be everywhere at once. You have to remember you’ve been busy rebuilding an entire tribe from the ground up while also trying to restore a part of your culture that was almost lost forever. You’re doing more than enough, and your people are grateful for all you do,” he assures you with a careful smile as he gently pushes back the hair from your face. “Maliq and his crew are leaving by morning and Gilak is in jail. Tomorrow will be better.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” you express earnestly as you pull yourself up and press a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know how I’d get through all of this without you.”

“Well it’s a good thing you don’t have to,” he smiles before sweetly brushing his nose against your own. After the chaos of the day, it’s nice to finally have a moment to settle down with your boyfriend, and you’re appreciative of the comfort Zuko always manages to bring you no matter how stressful the situation.

“Did you at least have fun at the festival? You know, before the whole drill incident,” you ask with a sheepish smile as you begin to carefully remove the braids you’d styled into Zuko’s hair for the party.

“I did,” he breathes out in a laugh, immediately melting at the sensation of your careful fingers combing through his hair. “It was a wonderful festival.”

He says nothing more as you continue to brush through his locks; it’s gotten longer since the last time you’ve seen him, and you enjoy the change. You’ve always loved his hair, and you appreciate the fact that he allows you the intimacy of brushing it for him.

“Do you think the conference will go well tomorrow? I’m afraid it might be too soon to start our work with the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation if we can’t even seem to get along with the North.”

“You can’t wait for progress,” Zuko notes thoughtfully. “Making connections will only improve the South’s rebuilding process.”

You hum thoughtfully in response, but your mind begins to wander. You’re trying to see things from an open perspective, making changes that will benefit your people without forgetting about their past, but you haven’t been completely open to Hakoda’s suggestions. You were quick to shut down the idea of the oil rig despite its benefits, and though you’d been proven right about the problems such a project could cause, you also knew that not using available resources would also stunt the tribe’s growth. Zuko says you can’t wait for progress, but how do you know when the time is right?

“We should rest,” you suggest after finishing your work. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“I guess you’re right,” he relents with a sigh before rising from his seat on your bed. “I’ll see you in the morning?”

“You will,” you assure him before gifting him a kiss goodnight and watching him exit your room. Now alone, you collapse back onto your bed with an exhausted sigh.

“Tomorrow will be better,” you try to remind yourself.

But you’re not sure if you entirely believe that.

~~~

The day is calmer now that the construction crew is gone and Gilak is locked away. There are a handful of protestors outside the palace gates who demand that all foreigners leave the South, but they don’t seem to speak for the majority of your people, and for that you are grateful. Sokka and Toph manage crowd control while you prepare for the arrival of King Kue and the conference that is to take place today. Things are normal for the most part and your plans are back on track, so you try to remain positive and focused on the tasks at hand.

“Are you sure this conference is a good idea, y/n?” Katara asks after pulling you aside to express her concerns with you privately, the uncertainty clear on her features. “After everything that’s happened maybe the South just needs to handle things on its own first before starting to work with other nations.”

“I understand your concern, but with most of the Northerners gone we basically are on our own now. There are just some things the South can’t do by itself, so collaborating with other countries will not only give us connections but possible resources as well. I have to look at the bigger picture here.”

Katara is silent for a moment as she digests your words, but after a few moments of contemplation she finally gives you a nod. “I trust you’ll do what’s best for the tribe. I just don’t want us to end up becoming a cheap imitation of the North or lose our identity by inviting other Nations into our home.”

“Do you remember the conflict that arose during the Harmony Restoration Movement when the Earth King tried to separate the colonies?” You ask her with a faint smile, continuing when she gives you a puzzled yes as an answer. “We realized keeping the Fire and Earth people apart would do more harm than good for the future of the world and decided we needed to work together to build peace. Our entire friend group is composed of different nations, and our relationships too. My future with Zuko is dependent on our homes working together, on our people connecting with one another, and so I ask that you try to view this situation the same way you viewed it then.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way,” the water bender admits guiltily, your words obviously having struck a nerve with her. Who was she to pick and choose who got to work together and who didn’t? You had a point, and it was making her question how she truly felt about the changes occurring in her home.

“Chief y/n,” Hakoda calls from the doorway, promptly ending your discussion with Katara, “King Kue has arrived.”

The Earth King enters the meeting room with a look of awe as he observes the interior of the chamber and admires the Southern architecture of the building, and you promptly bow in respect in his presence before offering him your hand to shake.

“King Kue, it’s my honor to have you here in the South. We greatly appreciate you taking the time to attend this conference.”

“I’ve been wanting to visit the South Pole for years since meeting you all! It’s wonderful albeit freezing,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle while taking your hand.

“We’re happy to have you here, and after the conference I’d be glad to give you a tour,” you sincerely assure him before guiding him to his seat.

With all of your friends and the king present, you’re able to begin your presentation alongside Hakoda. You let him and Malina take the reins for the first half as they detail their plans to create an updated harbor for the South. They explain the logistics and the benefits of the project before allowing you to take over and explain the diplomatic prospects.

“Our hope is that this harbor will give the world a chance to visit our home and partake in our commerce as well as educate themselves on our history. Through outreach we hope to build stronger connections with our neighboring nations and establish an era of harmony and peace,” you explain with a pleased smile, eager to convey your ideas for the other leaders to hear. This is definitely the biggest thing you’ve done as Chief so far, and you briefly wonder if your father would be proud to see how far you’ve come.

“Chief y/n also came up with the idea of establishing embassies in both of your nations as well as allowing you to do the same here to further outreach between our people. However, as advisor I must note we don’t necessarily have the funds to enact this plan,” Hakoda states plainly, exchanging glances with you before looking to Zuko and Kue, “and that is why we’ve invited you here. We would be thrilled to have your partnership to make this vision a reality and strengthen the bond between our homes.”

You hopefully scan the room to gauge their reactions, and for the most part everyone seems to be open to your plan- well, everyone but Katara. It isn’t easy to ignore the subtle disapproval on her features and her obvious hesitance to opening up the South to the world, and it diminishes your optimistic mood. You recall what Zuko had said about not being to make everyone happy, but it’s hard to do when it’s one of your closest friends that seems to disapprove of your choices.

“You can count the Fire Nation in,” Zuko says proudly while directing his gaze from Hakoda to you. “Your people have suffered so much destruction at our hands, and we are grateful for the opportunity to help you rebuild.”

“Thank you, Fire Lord Zuko. Your efforts are greatly appreciated,” you express sincerely, taking extra care to be professional when speaking to your boyfriend in front of your peers.

“I’m sorry that the Earth Kingdom can’t offer our support so readily. We have so many of our own needs at home,” King Kue states sullenly with obvious disappointment clear in his tone. “But if I could show my advisers that the Southern Water Tribe is going to make measurable, concrete progress toward civilization-“

“Excuse me?!” Katara butts in harshly. The offense is clear in her tone, and her outburst takes everyone by surprise.

“Oh dear, please forgive the clumsiness of my words, Katara! I should have phrased it differently,” he quickly interjects in a panic. “We would simply want you to achieve a higher form where the South becomes a cleaner, safer, nicer-“

“King Kue,” you interrupt gently as you do your best to remain calm despite your displeasure at his words, “please be mindful when speaking about our home. You are a guest here, and just as we treat you with respect we expect the same.”

“Of course! What I meant to say was-“

“Chief y/n!” A voice interrupts as one of your guards bursts into the room. His tone and features are full of urgency as he approaches. “We’ve just received an alert from the prison! Gilak and his army-“

You cry out in horror as the man is swiftly knocked unconscious by a boomerang, and all your friends quickly jump up from the table in preparation to defend themselves from the oncoming threat. Zuko is by your side in an instant, guarding your figure with his own so that you’re kept away from the danger. He knows you can handle yourself, but after what happened with Koa he isn’t taking any chances this time.

Gilak and his men flood through the doorway, his malicious gaze focused on Hakoda who stands in the center of the room and protectively shields Malina from the group.

“Look at you, Hakoda. So eager to sell our tribe to foreign masters! And you,” he says in disdain as he points his boomerang in your direction, “so easy to be brainwashed by your advisor and your ash maker boyfriend. So easy to manipulate and fool. Perhaps Koa was right about you, y/n. What does a little girl know about running a tribe?”

“You watch your mouth!” Sokka cries out harshly in defense of you and his father.

“You watch it, boy. We’re taking over this meeting.”

“For the tribe!” Gilak’s soldiers cry out before all chaos breaks loose. Two of his men charge towards you only for Zuko to shoot flames towards them in retaliation.

“Stay back!” He commands fiercely, but your own safety is the least of your worries at the moment.

“Protect the Earth King!” You call out as you send a blast of snow into the gut of an attacker before they can reach Kue. Another soldier tries to strike you from behind, but you’re able to quickly dodge their attack before encasing their feet in ice so they can longer attempt an attack on you or your friends. “You swore an oath to serve the royal family and the people of this tribe! How dare you turn against me?!”

“It’s not us you should be worrying about, Chief,” the woman glowers scornfully. “It’s that no good Hakoda and your Fire Lord boyfriend you should be looking out for. They’ve made you forget who you are.”

“I know who I am,” you utter lowly before raising your hands to lift the ice so it encases her entire body. “Maybe you should think about who you are while you wait for the ice to melt.”

Your attention is pulled away from the guard at the sound of a loud crash, and you barely manage to catch a glimpse of Gilak narrowly missing Zuko as he brings his whale tooth blade down into the table. Gasping, you quickly maneuver the water around your arms to form tentacles that wrap around the man’s torso and lift him into the air before slamming him back down again. The impact is forceful enough to disable him of his weapon, and Zuko quickly kicks it away from his grasp.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief, clearly overwhelmed from the sudden chaos. You don’t have time to reply as more of Gilak’s army begin to break through the windows and wreak havoc on the palace. You’re completely surrounded, and despite your best efforts to fight them off you can’t ignore the fact that you’re outnumbered. You briefly remember to thank the spirits for the fact that your mother is out visiting Kanna and Pakku and not here in the midst of the danger.

Gilak gets a hold of Hakoda while the rest of you are distracted fighting his warriors, and your friends are quick to rush out after him. You follow in suit only to hesitate when you realize someone must stay behind to guard Kue. You trust in your group’s ability to handle Gilak on their own, but you don’t exactly trust the King to take care of himself. Without anyone noticing, you slip back into the meeting room in search of the monarch.

“Your highness! Your highness, we have to get you out of here!” You call out while frantically scanning the room for him. The chamber is dead silent and questioningly empty considering it had just been teeming with invaders, and there isn’t a single sign of Kue.

You hear the crunching of glass behind you and quickly pivot your body towards the noise, and the sound is enough of a distraction for you to be ambushed by chi-blockers who quickly disarm you of your bending and let your body fall to the floor with a thud.

“Not so high and mighty now, are you, ‘Chief’?” One of them taunts before moving out of the way so another can scoop your limp figure off the ground.

“Where is King Kue?!” You demand as you your eyes look around the room in a panicked hunt for the man.

“Relax, that oaf is fine,” the girl brushes you off with a dismissive wave of her hands. “He’s hiding in a closet somewhere like the coward he is. Besides, it was never about him. We knew you’d be stupid enough to come back for him, and you took the bait.”

“What do you mean?” You say in disbelief as they begin to sneak you out through one of the hallways before your friends can notice.

“You’re the problem with this place, you’re the one who let the outsiders in. We need someone new in charge, but we can’t do that until we get rid of you and Hakoda first.”

Dread fills your stomach at her explanation, and you’re able to do nothing but hang limply over the man’s shoulder as they take you to their hideout. For the sake of the tribe you hope Hakoda and your friends are okay, and you hope they can find you before it’s too late.

Outside of the palace, Gilak and his men have vanished and Hakoda has been returned safely to his children. It seems the chaos is over until Zuko looks to his side and notices his Princess is nowhere to be seen. Panic immediately fills his gut as he rushes back into the palace and begins his feverish search for her.

“Y/n! My love, where are you?!” He calls out, and after finding no sign of you anywhere his worry begins to morph into anger. “No… No!”

“What’s wrong, Zuko?” Toph demands after hearing his enraged roars. The group looks to Zuko with concern in their gazes as he lets out a vengeful blast of flames from his mouth. The Fire Lord is seething, and there’s only one cause for his fury.

“They took y/n.”

~~~

You sit in an empty room tied to a chair with Gilak as your only form of company. For a long while neither of you speak, both of you locked into a staring contest as his eyes of contempt meet your own indignant ones.

“It didn’t have to be this way,” he finally says to break the silence, slowly beginning to circle around your chair like a shark. “I tried to get you to see things from our perspective, but you were just too stubborn. You didn’t want to see the danger in front of you, and even when Maliq disrespected you in front of the entire tribe you still went ahead and invited outsiders into the South.”

“What is so wrong about working with others?” You demand fruitlessly, unable to comprehend how he can be filled with so much hatred. “Not every outsider is bad, but you’re too full of resentment to see that! We’ve been able to accomplish great things because of the help of our sister tribe, and with the help of the Fire Nation-“

“The Fire Nation?!” Gilak bellows angrily, and you can’t help but to flinch in fear at his outburst. “They burned down our outer villages, desecrated our water benders, took our Chief from us! They are the reason we must rebuild in the first place! And yet you invite the Fire Lord onto our land simply because you let your love for him blind you of his true nature.”

“The Fire Nation did horrible things, yes. But Zuko is trying to right the wrongs of the past. There is good in his heart as there is in the hearts of other Fire Nation citizens. I’ve witnessed it firsthand. We cannot remain stuck in the past if we wish to build a future.”

“There is no future for the Southern Water Tribe with you and Hakoda in charge, and that’s why I’m taking matters into my own hands,” he says menacingly before signaling for two of his guards to remove you from the chair and bind your limbs together so you can be transported out of the tunnels.

“What are you going to do?”

“I’ve sent a letter to Hakoda asking him to meet me at the Bridge of No Return. He’s under the impression he’ll be trading his life for yours, but once he sets foot on that bridge and meets you in the center I’ll cut the line before either of you can make it safely across.”

“No…” you utter in disbelief, panic beginning to settle in your gut.

“The South will finally be rid of its problem, and then we can truly begin to strengthen our tribe.”

You’re able to say nothing more as a cloth is tied around your mouth to keep you from speaking. The last thing they want is for you to try and warn the others of their plan once you get to the bridge.

The guards carry you away, and you desperately try to come up with a plan of escape before it’s too late.

~~~

Zuko is anxious as he makes his way up the mountains. While fruitlessly searching endless tunnels hadn’t brought you back to him, receiving the letter from Gilak detailing your whereabouts didn’t exactly ease his nerves either. You were in danger, and if for some reason Sokka’s plan failed your life could be lost tonight. The thought almost sends him reeling, but he reminds himself to stay focused on the task at hand. He needs to be at his best if he plans to get you back safely- he promised your distraught mother he’d return you to her alive, and that’s what he planned to do.

“There she is!” Sokka exclaims as he points to your sullen figure across the way. Your arms are completely bound and a cloth is wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet, and the sight has Zuko fuming. How dare they treat you so disrespectfully? He begins to rush forward only for Sokka to halt his efforts. “Hold on, buddy. I know you want her back safe but we can’t make any rash decisions or this plan won’t work.”

Zuko falters, huffing out a breath of smoke through his nose in protest before backing off. His eyes meet your desperate ones from across the way and his chest aches at the sight. He’d failed to protect you, and now you were a captive being used as bait for Gilak’s plan. He shouldn’t have left you behind, he shouldn’t have taken his eyes off of you, and he shouldn’t have let this happen.

You watch helplessly from across the way as Gilak sends his chi-blockers towards your friends and wince on their behalf as they receive the paralyzing blows. You let out a muffled cry of alarm as one by one they collapse to the ground, but you’re unable to do anything as the man gives you a harsh shove from behind.

“Get moving, Princess. Your time is up.”

You stumble forward onto the rickety bridge and take cautious steps in fear the wood falling out from beneath you. Hakoda meets you halfway before carefully pulling down the cloth from your mouth. Your features are frantic as you immediately utter jumbled pleas for him to leave.

“Hakoda, they’re going to cut the bridge! You have to get off,” you urge him desperately, tears welling in your eyes as you try to shove him back. The man rests his hands upon your shoulders to stop your movements before reaching down to remove your binds.

“I know,” he says softly as he gives you a reassuring smile before looking across the way. “I promise you we’re going to be okay.”

You follow his gaze to see Malina using her bending to stop Gilak from cutting the bridge. On the other side, your friends have risen from the ground and are busy taking out his army of soldiers. His plan has failed, and Hakoda quickly begins to usher you across the unstable structure.

The bridge begin to tremble as more weight is added onto it, and behind you Gilak angrily chases after you and Hakoda with a torch in hand. He doesn’t plan to give up so easily, so consumed by hatred that it’s made him crazed.

“I’m not letting either of you get away with this! You need to be punished for what you’ve done!” He roars angrily before charging at you both. “I’m going to take you down even if it means I have to go with you.”

“Are you mad?!” Hakoda cries before shoving you behind him to keep you out of Gilak’s reach. Another jolt shoots through the structure as Malina attempts to stop your attacker, but her efforts only cause him to involuntarily light the bridge aflame with his torch. As the two struggle for control over one another, Zuko dashes onto the bridge and uses his bending to put the fire before it can spread.

“Zuko!” You cry out in relief at the sight of him, only wanting his comfort after everything you’ve been through in the last twenty four hours. He meets your eyes and smiles in relief at the fact that you’re okay, but his features quickly morph into ones of dread as the burnt rope snaps and the bridge collapses. Your stomach drops as your feet lose contact with the ground beneath you, but the Fire Lord is quick to reach out and capture you by the wrist before you can fall.

“Hold on tight!” He tells you, making sure your hold on his forearm is secure before he propels the two of you upward using the streams of flames he releases from his feet. You land safely on the fresh snow below you, and you’re more than grateful to finally feel the ground beneath you again.

“Oh, Zuko!” You breathe out in relief before throwing yourself into his arms and holding him tight. His warmth soothes the chill in your bones from being so close to death, and he’s quick to return your embrace.

“I’m here,” he assures you as he carefully strokes your back. “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s King Kue?” You ask as you rapidly scan the area in search of the man. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, Pakku and your mother are looking after him. Are you okay?” He reiterates before pulling out of the hug to get a look at you. Indents have been left behind on your cheeks from the cloth that had been tightly wrapped around your head, and Zuko carefully looks you over for any other signs of hurt.

“I’m okay,” you promise him with a quick nod. “The chi-blocking wore off, I just feel tingly from being tied up is all.”

“They tied you up?!” Zuko exclaims angrily only to calm down when he sees the abashed look on your face. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice. It just makes me so upset to think that someone would want to hurt you. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you.”

“It’s not your fault, Zuko,” you correct him with a slight frown. “If it weren’t for you I would have fallen of that bridge.”

“Speaking of which,” Sokka interrupts urgently as he directs your attention to the collapsing structure, “it’s about to give! How are we gonna get them back up here!”

“I can go back down and get them,” Zuko insists only for Sokka to wave him off.

“Your weight would make it collapse before we could save anyone.”

“I’ll try to keep it stable!” Toph offers as she uses her earth bending to support the structure. “You guys are gonna have to work fast, I’m not sure how long this will hold.”

You watch as Katara and Aang spring into action to gather the others, and the Avatar is able to grab hold of them right as the bridge finally falls apart. He struggles to bring them up, and you watch anxiously as he flies his guider back towards the cliff top. Gilak isn’t making it an easy task he makes a last ditch attempt to lash at Hakoda, but the man only succeeds in losing his grip in the process and falling towards the bottom of the cliff.

“Gilak!” You cry out in horror, turning away so you don’t have to watch the man plummet to his death. Despite all he’s done, you’d never wish for death on anyone, and so you’re torn at the fact that this is how the conflict will end.

“There was nothing Aang could do,” Zuko says in an attempt to comfort you, but you’re not sure if it helps. Hakoda and Malina are brought to safety, and you’re left to deal with the aftermath of all that’s occurred.

“How did you all overcome the chi-blocking?” You ask as your mind begins to process all that’s occurred. You couldn’t compute how your friends hadn’t been susceptible to the blocks like you had.

“Metal armor!” Sokka explains proudly while showcasing you his invention. “It was my idea, but Toph made it a reality.”

“Sokka, you genius!” You laugh, throwing your arms around him in a hug full of gratitude for his help. “I can always count on you to figure out a solution to every problem.”

“Thank you, y/n, I am a genius.”

“Please don’t make his ego any bigger than it needs to be,” Katara teases before taking your hands in her own and giving them a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay, and I’ve been thinking about what you said, about changing my perspective. I think you’re right.”

“I’m happy you see it that way,” you tell her with a careful smile before looking to her father and Malina. “And I think it’s time I did the same. If you both can come up with a revised proposal for an ecofriendly oil refinery that will benefit the South, I’d be happy to give it another look.”

“Thank you, Chief y/n,” Hakoda says gratefully, sharing an excited glance with Malina, “we appreciate your openness.”

“We need to get you back to the palace,” Zuko tells you while resting a careful hand on your back. “Your mother is probably worried sick waiting for you, and I promised I’d bring you home safely.”

“Spirits, you’re right,” your murmur fretfully before taking hold of his hand and quickly beginning your descent down the mountain.

“They’re good for each other, aren’t they?” Hakoda notes to your friends as he watches your figures disappear over the hill.

“They are,” Katara agrees with a faint smile, her mind beginning to imagine what your future will look like. The embassies will provide a good foundation for the relationship of the Water Tribe and Fire Nation, and the project will be a testament to what you and Zuko had proved long ago.

The fate of the nations are in good hands.

~~~

The South has settled back into its normal routine. With the death of Gilak and arrests of his army came the end of the protests, and reconstruction was able to resume without the threat of unrest or discontent among your people.

You stand inside the museum with Zuko by your side, your hands interlocked as you stare at the wall before you. You’re in the hall of royal families, an area full of photos and relics of all the people from the past and present. You’d ventured into the Princess exhibit and were now staring at your wanted poster hanging on the wall of your section. You’d swiped the scroll from a Fire Nation market place while in disguise with the Avatar and his friends, and you felt it was an important piece of history to include in your exhibit.

“That’s the prettiest wanted poster I’ve seen,” Zuko comments with a small smile. “It’s strange to think how much has changed since this poster was made.”

“The past is a strange place,” you agree quietly before looking to your boyfriend. “Now that the war is over, do you ever find yourself thinking about the future?”

“Always,” he says, a familiar spark in his eyes as he stares down at you.

“We’re living proof that a strong connection between nations is possible. We always have been, and yet it scares people like Gilak.”

“People like Gilak fear change,” he murmurs lowly, the mere mention of the main leaving a bad taste in his mouth. “They fear going against tradition, and we are far from being a traditional couple.”

“Yeah, but I like it that way,” you say with a smile before reaching up to press a tender kiss to his lips. Zuko’s hands find their place on your hips as he pulls you in close to savor the feeling.

With peace in the South having been reestablished, you now have a good feeling about what awaits you in the future. It’s going to be complicated, there’s no arguing that, but you’re willing to face whatever challenges arise if it means getting to be with the boy you love.

You and Zuko are the hope for the future of your nations, and if your relationship has been able to withstand all the difficulties and heartaches that have come over the years, then there’s no doubt in your mind that your people will be able to do the same.

Water and fire are opposing elements, and yet you both work so well together. You’re two halves of a whole, and no one will ever be able to break you apart again.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch @cipheress-to-k-pop @potato87123

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

#melzula writes #fire lilies #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko #sokka #katara #toph #aang #atla #atla x reader #atla imagine #avatar: the last airbender #north and south

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