A/N: I actually wrote part three to my li’l frank x platonic reader fic before part two - hence why part two AND three have been published in one day. This part follows the events of daredevil season two.
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Two weeks later -
Hell’s Kitchen was quiet tonight. Maybe it was because it was too cold to leave home, people didn’t get themselves into as much trouble when the weather wasn’t right for it. But that didn’t mean you’d give yourself the day off. Apparently, daredevil didn’t give himself the day off either.
Without making a noise he sat himself next to you on the ledge of the building you had perched yourself on,
“great view, right?” You ask the vigilante in red, he hums in approval, “Right.”
“How’s patrol tonight?”
“That’s what I’m here to talk to you about- there was a shooting on Twelfth. The Irish. All of them dead.”
“So surely it was just a mob fight gone wrong?”
The devil shakes his head,
“You’d think. But the cartel were attacked too.”
“You got a theory?”
“Police think it was some sort of military operation. The precision of the entry wounds on the victims would suggest it was executed by a professional”
“You sound like a lawyer” you chuckle.
He mumbles something, what it was that he mumbled you didn’t quite catch.
“Are the police keeping the gang war theory open? It’s not entirely out of the question.”
“It wasn’t gang on gang crime.” He says firmly, “I know what I - what I saw. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just one person.”
“One person? This was the Irish. How could one person kill like twenty members of the Irish mob?”
“Back to the army theory.” He replies
“Just- stay vigilant. I’ll let you know if I find anything else out, don’t seek anyone out.”
“We should work together” you suggest
“I work alone.”
“I’ll let you know if I find anything, okay?” You relent
There was no response, you turn to face the devil of Hell’s Kitchen only to find an empty spot where he was sat, “Shit.” You mumble before leaving the ledge yourself and going to investigate.
It wasn’t difficult to find the scene of the crime. You could smell the metallic stench from miles away.
The bodies had been cleared by the police when you snuck into the poorly concealed safe house. The smell of blood was overwhelming, but there was the lingering scent of gunpowder. You weren’t sure if humans had the ability to smell fear like animals did, but you suspected if you could, the room would stink of it. In your short time as a vigilante, you had been shot at twice. It never got less scary. You never felt less shaken up. A mere two hours ago this room would’ve contained the gruesome fate of gruesome men. Maybe they had it coming, how many lives had they taken? You shake your head, as if to erase the thought, but you weren’t here to feel anger or sympathy.
You were here to gather hints like a discount Sherlock Holmes.
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You found daredevil again the next night, he was perched on the cross of the Catholic Church on sixth.
“Penny for your thoughts?” You ask as you walk the perimeter of the church’s roof.
“The Irish, the Mexicans, the dogs of hell, they have one thing in common.”
“They all hate each other?”
“In simple terms.” The devil says throwing a USB at you.
You catch it and inspect it
“What’s on it?”
“Eighteen months ago there was a gang shoot out at Central Park. Involving all three gangs. There were no reported victims but a lead of mine found-“
Your eyes go wide in realisation, “Shit-“ you exclaim, cutting the devil off from his explanation, “thanks for the file- I’ll uh- I’ll look through it- thanks red!” You rush your goodbye before running to find the man who would help connect the dots.
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When you arrive at Frank’s, you knock urgently on the door, the 6 foot something man opens it and you barge past him before pacing his kitchen floor.
“Kid.” Frank says leaning against the now closed door with the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.
“Got anything to confess?” You say sounding angry. You weren’t angry, not really. Just hurt and confused. Frank was a gentle man, you didn’t doubt he harboured a lot of resentment, you would too. But you never thought he would’ve resorted to murder.
“What the - what are you on about? Why are you acting like a priest?” He scoffs
“I’m not playing Frank! You-“ you lower your voice, “you killed them.” You practically whisper.
“Killed who.” He asks firmly, raising a brow at your accusatory tone.
“You know who.” You mumble, “Look I didn’t come here to grill you- I don’t know why I came here to be honest.”
“You never have a reason when you come here.” Frank remarks as he pours your glass of water and rummages in his cupboards and hands you an energy bar.
You lift yourself onto the counter, taking off your mask, and running a hand over your face before taking a sip of water and then a deep breath.
“They had it coming.” Frank spits out, “they took my family-“
“You don’t have to explain yourself” you sigh,
“I think Daredevil is onto you though.” You hand him the USB the devil had handed you minutes earlier, “Headlines and stuff, I assume. But you can have ‘em. Red only wanted me to look through them to try and piece things together but I already have.”
“You call the devil of Hell’s Kitchen, red?”
“He wears a red suit. It’s kinda weird to call him by his full superhero name when I’m talking to him.”
Frank doesn’t respond, he just busies himself by doing nothing in particular,
“I get why you did it.” You say to break the silence, you didn’t anticipate a response from the dark haired man, but you didn’t need one to continue either.
“And it changes nothing, by the way. I still want to be your friend.”
“Go home kid.” Frank replies in the softest voice you had ever heard come from his mouth.
You didn’t want to argue with him, you look up at him and hug him.
He doesn’t reciprocate it, that was okay. You weren’t the one who needed a hug right now.
“I’ll see you on tomorrow, yeah?” You say pulling away from him
Frank clears his throat awkwardly, “Yeah.”
“Night, Frank.”
“Hey, sunshine?” He calls out as you perch yourself on his window pane, preparing to leave, “stay out of my way.”
“What you do in your spare time is none of my business.” You look out of the window before turning back to face Frank, “and I’m not a snitch, by the way.”
“Never said you were.”
“Just making sure.” You smile before pulling your mask back on and falling out of the window before catching yourself and continuing your patrol.
The second time you visited Frank, it wasn’t intentional.
You had every intention of keeping an eye on him, maybe buying him groceries or just following him around. You didn’t expect to be pestering him again so soon after your first meet. But patrol had gone awfully. Something had gone wrong- well lots had gone wrong, but the series of events that had led to the deep laceration on the side of your stomach were a blur. You weren’t sure how bad it was, but the amount of blood coming from it made you assume it definitely wasn’t good. The problem was, you didn’t have anyone else you could go to about this, you wouldn’t endanger your friends like that, a hospital would ask too many questions and you couldn’t rely on your parents to do it, so pestering Frank it had to be. Lucky for you, it just so happened Frank’s place was ten minutes away - five if you used your abilities.
You climbed up onto the fire escape of Frank’s rundown and unkempt apartment and banged on the window, begging silently to yourself that you wouldn’t wake his neighbours,
“Cmon Frank”
you mumble as you attempt to open the window from the outside like some common thief, but he seemingly had good locks. He seemed like the type to take stuff like that seriously.
You bang again, leaving a smear of blood from where you were holding your gaping side.
You see the shadows in the room change and bang the window again. Just in case, although you figured at this point his entire complex was awake.
Frank comes into view, looking pissed, he always looked pissed, but he looked more pissed than usual. You wondered if he had even been to sleep yet, it was 3AM and he was fully dressed in the black cargo pants and black tee you had seen him in last time. Did that man ever sleep?
He slides open the window with unnecessary vigour.
“Why are you here.” He asks angrily.
Whatever softness he had displayed towards you in his drunken stupor previously was long gone
“I got stabbed.” You whisper.
“I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t important.”
The earlier adrenaline from the fight you had with the person who had stabbed you had worn off, leaving you feeling drained and upset.
You hear Frank sigh before he offers a hand. You let yourself be pulled up and stumble over to the couch before collapsing on it, tears escaped your eyes, you felt like shit.
“So, what happened?”
Frank asks as he inspects your wound.
“Some asshole”
you hiss in pain when he touches it.
“Sorry.”
He mumbles before walking over to the cabinets in his kitchen and pulling out a first aid kit.
“You got a name yet?”
He asks as he washes his hands
“Still no- tabloids are calling me various things” you say breathlessly,
“My real name is Y/N, though”
Franks eyebrows raise as he dries his hands, like he’s surprised you trusted him. He picks up the first aid kit and crouches next to you,
“This’ll sting” he mumbles.
He cleans the wound with an anti-bacterial wipe. You flinch when the wipe comes into contact with your skin, taking a sharp inhale,
“sorry” you mumble
Frank doesn’t acknowledge your apology, his concentration remains on tending to your wound,
“What’s your favourite colour, kid?”
“What?”
“It’s not a difficult question, what’s your favourite colour?”
“I dunno- red is cool, I guess.”
You were perplexed at the question, Frank didn’t seem like the kind of person to care about favourite colours.
“Are you squeamish?”
Your tone is soft, you were too tired to put much effort into your words.
He shakes his head,
“take a deep breath.”
You listen, inhaling for five seconds and holding it, you feel the needle penetrate your flesh and you let go of the breath, letting out a sharp yelp,
“Stay still.” Frank commands sternly
“Warn me next time!”
“Stay still and stop talking.” Frank repeats, a little more firmly this time.
You put your fist in your mouth, biting down hard to try and distract yourself from the pain.
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After what felt like an hour of being stitched up, frank gets up. Washes his hands again and puts the first aid kit back before handing you a glass of water and an energy bar. You take them both, saying a quick thanks.
As you take a sip of water, frank puts a pill on the table, “for the pain.” He says bluntly.
You take the pain medicine, letting it set in.
“How do you know how to do that?”
“Do what?” He asks as he settles in the seat opposite you.
“Like stitch me up? Are you a nurse or something?”
He lets out a huff of amusement, “currently, I’m in construction.”
“Is that why you’re up early?”
“I’m up early because I can’t sleep.”
An awkward silence falls over the two of you. You didn’t want to ask why he couldn’t sleep, you could probably guess. You probably wouldn’t be able to sleep if you lost your family either.
“So if you’re not a nurse, how do you know how to do first aid?”
“I was a marine.”
“Oh shit, that’s pretty cool.”
“You run into unexpected shit, doing that kind of job. Sometimes you won’t be able to get to a medic fast enough.”
You listen attentively, “is that why you can’t sleep?”
He shakes his head, answering your questions and confirming your earlier suspicions but not wanting to develop that point further.
“Thanks for doing this, Frank.” You say sincerely, offering a smile
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.” He responds, but doesn’t smile back.
“I’ll uh- I’ll leave you to it, then.” You say as you sit up, trying to conceal the pain you felt.
Frank huffs and grabs then keys to his van.
“I’ll drive you.”
“Oh - frank no that’s really okay-“
“I wasn’t asking.” He says putting on his boots and a long, black trench coat.
“Thanks” you say for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
Frank opens the front door and gives you the space to get up, before slinging an arm under you and supporting your weight as you walk out of his apartment.
You sit in the black van, it smelt of coffee, which looking around and seeing various used polystyrene cups on the floor of the van, it made sense.
“You got an address you want me to drop you off at?”
“Promise not to dox me?” You half joke.
“I don’t care about where you live, kid.”
“Okay- yeah I um, I live over on 16th”
Frank starts the vehicle and you drive quietly to the address you gave him.
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You made that a routine.
After patrol you’d go to Frank’s, he’d be awake, waiting for you with a glass of water, an energy bar, and first aid - if you needed it.
You would talk about your patrol. Sometimes frank would let small things about himself slip out, but that was a rare occurrence.
Sometimes frank would help you train, you’d fight each other, he’d remind you that you weren’t invincible, you hadn’t yet disclosed your age but he’d always hit you with the “You’re not invincible, kid.” Line.
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Over the past few weeks, you and Frank had gotten pretty close, you considered him your friend. It was 4 PM, you had never visited Frank in the day. Would he even be home? You hoped so. You had a shitty day. You felt sort of pathetic, running to frank the second something had gone wrong. But you didn’t have anyone else to depend on for comfort.
You knock on his door rapidly, wishing you could just go through the window.
Frank opens the door, looking pretty pissed, “not interested in your Girl Scout cookies.”
You huff at Frank’s attitude
“It’s me frank.” You huff, not in the mood for any agro
You go to walk in and he blocks the door with his frame.
“It’s Y/N.” You say with a frown.
Frank looks at your face. Really looks. He knew you were young. But he would’ve guessed you were in your twenties, still a young person, but not a literal child. Looking at the person standing in front of him, he was so wrong, you were around 15-17. Still so young, you had no clue about the world, you were far too young to be a vigilante, kids need there sleep. If there was one thing about being a parent Frank still remembered it was that kids need their sleep, maybe a lack of sleep was why you were stood at his door with red, swollen eyes and a frown.
Frank moves out of the way, letting you into his home.
You walk in, throwing your school bag onto the floor and then yourself onto Frank’s couch.
“I had a shit day.”
Tears were welling up in your eyes
“I didn’t have anyone else to go to, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods, sitting on the arm of the couch,
“Gonna talk about it?”
“Don’t want to burden you.”
“Get off your high-horse, kid.”
You sigh, “Just lots of little things. Yknow? Like my friends were being assholes, I failed a test, I lost my wallet- it was just a bad day.”
“Why’d you come here?” He asks genuinely.
“You’re the only friend I’ve got Frank.”
“That’s pretty pathetic, Kid.” Frank says honestly
“Oh gee, thanks.”
“You got no one else?” He asks earnestly.
“Sometimes” you shrug.
Frank just looks at you,
“You’re younger than I thought.” He says getting up to pour a mug of coffee, “I have a mutation. So I can do things other people can’t. I feel like I’m obliged to help- I like helping.”
“Still, you’re what a sophomore? A junior? You should be doing homework and shit, going out to parties- not vigilante bullshit.”
“I love doing my vigilante bullshit frank.” You whisper.
Frank inhales, “Want coffee?” You shake your head, “want pancakes?”
“Pancakes?” Your head perks up, “you have pancake ingredients?”
“It’s only three ingredients.”
“Well, if you’re gonna make ‘em, I’ll have one, please.”
“Sure thing, kid.”
He moves over to the stove, he wasn’t quite smiling but there was a fond look on his face, like he was remembering a life he once had. You wondered if you made him feel like a dad, he made you feel like a kid. Something you hadn’t felt like in a long time.
Frank lied earlier, there were two things he remembered about being a parent. First being that kids need their sleep, second being that kids seek comfort where they can find it, some kids seek comfort in movies, or their friends, or doing dodgy shit in the park. You were a weird kid, evidently. How many other teenagers looked for comfort in miserable Middle Aged men and pancakes?
haii idk if ur taking reqs but i was wondering if you can write paternal!bucky x reader where he took her under his wing since being on the run in cacw and now they’re both in the new avengers but shes struggling with being a public figure (cs lets be real, val is gna market ts out of them) and misses when it was just the two of them.
A/N: Hi anon! Tysm for your request. I have no clue why it took so long but ty for being patient. This was so fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it 🫶
Bucky Barnes & platonic teen reader
2014 - 300 minutes since freedom.
Bucky hadn’t processed it yet. Bucky? Yes. Bucky, that was his name, that was what the blond man who he remembered looking a foot smaller and 100 pounds lighter had called him. Since the blond man left, he hadn’t moved from the riverbank, he was consumed in thought, he couldn’t go into hiding before he found the small, unkempt child he had taken so many beatings for, the child who’s eyes had seen too much. He’d make sure you got out of there, even if it was the last thing he did.
2014 - 3 months, 16 hours and 240 minutes since freedom.
Romania seemed safe enough. HYDRA did t have people there… not for now at least, and Bucky spoke the language well enough, so Romania seemed like a no brainer.
Bucky was currently speaking to the elderly landlady of an unassuming tenement, it was a small one bedroom apartment, it was the kind of place that attracted the kind of people you didn’t want to share a living space with. But it was cheap, cash in hand, no questions asked.
As Bucky was settling up the agreement with the landlady, you stayed close to him, not touching. Never touching, but close enough that you knew he couldn’t go anywhere.
“The child… is it your child?”
The landlady asks in Romanian as she goes to pinch your cheeks, you don’t step back. You hated touch, Bucky knew that, but he also knew you didn’t know that ‘No’ was an option too.
“She uh- she’s got a rash” Bucky lies awkwardly, the woman draws her hand back, patting your shoulder animatedly, before handing Bucky the keys, watching you as he scoops your small form up and takes you into your new, doll sized apartment. There wasn’t much, but it was enough. There was one small room, which Bucky would set up for you, he would sleep on the kitchen floor, he hated the feel of a bed. He didn’t really deserve one anyway.
It had been a long day, Bucky had tucked you into the pathetic excuse of a bed in your small room
“Hey” he says to you softly, “Things are gonna get better for you. You’re gonna have a good life, kid.
He kisses your temple tentatively, something he had only started doing recently, but you welcomed it anyway. He turns off the light and you whimper. You hated the dark.
“Stay” you whisper almost silently.
“I’m not leaving. Not now, not ever” He vows.
You stay sat up in your ‘bed’ watching Bucky and the subtle rise and fall of his chest before succumbing to an exhaustion induced slumber. Bucky fell asleep too, at some point. But he was far from relaxed. He remained stiffly uptight and tense, like a guard dog.
2016 - 1 year, 8 months and 12 days since freedom.
Eventually, you found a routine and you began to emerge from your shell. You were less nervous, you had started to behave more like the small child you were, and not the soldier HYDRA had moulded you to be.
You loved accompanying Bucky to the bustling Romanian street markets, you liked picking out fruits and vegetables and deciding which cheeses smelt the least inoffensive to your heighten senses. This time, your market trip was different, Bucky knew something wasn’t right almost as soon as he had left the safe house with you. Someone was watching. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he was attempting to pick out the ripest plums at the stall, you were holding his hand, the metal one - just whilst he felt the fruit. As soon as he purchased said fruit, he’d be back to holding your hand with his flesh one. But unbeknownst to Bucky, he wouldn’t be purchasing any fruit today.
Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a movement. One that wasn’t part of the usual busy streetscape. He dropped the plums and scooped you up in one swift motion, you go to speak - your mouth opening subtly
“Not now sweetheart” Bucky says gently, but there was a note of stress and almost anger in his voice. Not at you though, never at you, he was angry your peace and safety had been compromised.
2016 - 1 year, 8 months and 13 days since freedom.
“Where’s the kid” Bucky asks as soon as he regained consciousness.
“Which Bucky am I talking to?” Steve asks calmly
“Your mom’s name was Sarah” Bucky grumbles, “You used to stuff newspaper in your shoes” he laughs.
There’s a beat before the mood turns tense
“Where’s my kid?” He repeats a little more firmly this time, he could ignore the throbbing in his left arm. He could ignore the random man looking at him from behind Steve, but not the absence of his kid.
“Where is she Steve?”
“She’s safe” Steve emphasises
“Bucky!” You shout out as you run over to him, you hide behind him, grabbing his right arm
“Hey, hey, you’re okay?” He asks as he removes his right hand from your grasp and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Yeah” you whisper, clinging onto him.
He keeps you behind him.
2017 - 3 years, 2 weeks, 4 days since freedom
You really loved Wakanda. It was quiet. You hadn’t really experienced quiet yet. You liked school too. You were never alone, everyone was really nice and you had a great group of friends. You liked T’Challa too, he spoke to you about your powers and abilities when he didn’t have any particular duties to fulfil, it was different. You hadn’t never really spoken about that with Bucky, he didn’t speak about HYDRA. Not ever. But T’Challa wasn’t afraid to confront those topics with you. You liked talking about it in an odd way. You talked a lot, pre-tee hood had brought out a talkative side to you.
Bucky had been in cryo freeze for the last 18 months. It was a pretty big shock to him that you had gone from being waist high and quiet as a mouse to being up to his shoulder and talkative. Very very talkative. You could talk for Wakanda, you could talk to an orange about an apple. But you were still the sweetest kid in the world in Bucky’s mind - even if your new personality could overwhelm the man who had been in an induced yet peaceful slumber for the past 18 months.
You and Bucky got closer in Wakanda, like a real father and kid. Maybe it was because you were both older, both less fragile and more accepting of your scars - both the physical and mental ones. You had both gotten used to your abilities too. Bucky wasn’t so scared of his strength anymore and you had grown into your abilities, you were comfortable using them in an everyday setting. But that didn’t mean Bucky wasn’t going to let you fight in any space wars against big purple aliens any time soon….
2021 - 7 years, 2 hours since freedom
2021 - 2 years, 6 months and 2 weeks since the blip
You missed Bucky. Steve was fine, but he wasn’t Bucky. He wasn’t your dad. You stayed in your room all day, didn’t talk you had been forced back into your shell. You were failing in school and you missed Wakanda. New York was too much. Maybe you would like it more if Bucky was there, showing you the spots he grew up, where he took girls on dates, where he defended Steve, where his childhood home was. But he wasn’t there and you couldn’t be sure if he would be again. You certainly weren’t going to let yourself dream of a future with Bucky in it. Hope was a dangerous thing.
October 17th 2023 - 5 years, 5 months since the blip
You had thought about how you would react when you saw Bucky again. It had been weighing on your conscience since 2018. It had consumed your adolescent brain in a way you knew would affect you for years to come. And now Bucky was just stood there. Like he had never left, and he had the nerve to look at you like you were someone he had never seen before. Five years was a long time, especially for someone who hadn’t stopped growing yet.
You were frozen in place, your shoulders were shaking, but you weren’t crying. Not yet at least.
Bucky walks over to you and you collapse into him
“I Waited so long” you sob into him
“I’m here” he whispers as he strokes your hair, “I’m so sorry kid”
You sniffle, “I missed you”
A comforting yet somehow awkward silence came over you both. You didn’t talk for what felt like hours and after not enough time of basking in the company Bucky was providing you, you pulled away and just looked at Bucky.
A million thoughts were circling in your mind, he was finally home and you had never felt relief like it, it felt like you had been pulled out of the deep end of a pool just as you were going under. You weren’t going to let him leave again. You sure as shit wouldn’t leave him.
2024 - Healing
When you said you weren’t gonna leave Bucky, you meant that.
Bucky had never willingly left you. Ten years ago, he could’ve left you at that HYDRA facility. His life probably would’ve been easier if he hadn’t looked back. But that was Bucky. He was selfless. So there was no way you were going to listen to when he was telling you go back to bed and let him “figure his own bullshit out”. You didn’t like seeing Bucky scared. But it happened. He got nightmares. Bad ones.
Bucky said you used to get nightmares too. He’d be up all night with you, trying to soothe you, trying to make sure you felt safe enough to let your guard down to finally get a sustainable amount of shut-eye for a kid. You felt incredibly lucky that you had blocked out your time at HYDRA enough to not get nightmares, even more so as you looked at your father figure who was sat on the floor, drenched in sweat and remorse with a painful, far off look in his eyes.
“Kid, please” he mutters, distracting you from your thoughts.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask softly as you pick yourself up off the floor and fill up the kettle, placing it gently on the stove and turning the gas on with a ‘click’ that cut through the tense atmosphere of your apartment. You set out two mugs, putting a tea bag in each
“Do I look like I want to talk about it?” Bucky scoffs, but there wasn’t any malice in his tone. He was just tired.
Really tired.
He hadn’t stopped fighting since he started in the early 1940’s. It was a weight that bore on his soul.
You poured the tea and handed him a steaming mug, sitting back down next to him and cradling your own mug of tea, taking a slow sip of the liquid.
“Tell me something” you say gently
“Like what?”
“I dunno, tell me what your sister’s were like, or how much of a ladies man you were a million years ago”
Bucky let out a chuckle at that teasing remark and you smiled at the break in the tension
“Did you ever want kids?” You ask him earnestly. Bucky stills for a moment.
“That stuff was kind of expected back then doll.” He rubs his forehead, “you’ve watched enough movies, guys like me - all kinds of guys really, but we were expected to get a pretty wife, one who was seen and not heard and who you cheated on with your secretary, a couple of kids, preferably a few boys you could play ball with and a daughter you could ignore, a nice house in a nice neighbourhood with a picket fence - I wanted most of that as much as any other guy back then, so uh sure. I guess I wanted kids. How come you’re asking?”
“Would you have wanted a kid like me?” You whisper, almost dreading the answer.
Bucky hesitates, “You wouldn’t have fit in the forties, or whenever I settled down. Things weren’t as great as history books make that time out to be. There was lots of prejudice and discrimination and - people wouldn’t have liked you in those times. You’re far too headstrong and kind and selfless.”
You smile, “So people were assholes back then?”
“Lots of ‘em were.” Bucky says tapping the handle of his mug
“Do you think you’re my dad in every universe?” You ask suddenly
“I hope so.” He replies, but he was lost in thought, “The worst time of my life led to the best thing in it and If someone walked through that door right now and told me that I could forget everything that happened to me in HYDRA, but I wouldn’t know you, I’d tell them to leave and never some back.” He says firmly. You don’t doubt him, not even for a second. You set your tea down and hug him tightly, your grip only loosening after a peaceful slumber consumes you.
2027 - family?
Bucky could tell something wasn’t right with you as soon as you walked back into the tower from a press conference led by Valentina. You hated Val. She was vicious. You could just tell that she was a bad person. You tried to see the good in everyone but you doubted there was any in Valentina.
You liked the Thunderbolts though. You had become fond of them. But that didn’t stop you from wishing - yearning for your old life with and Bucky back though.
Since moving into the tower with the Thunderbolts, you had gotten quiet again, you were shy. You had never been like that around Sam. You were stuck in a perpetual cycle of avoiding Bucky and staying in your room. Bucky was sick of it, this melancholic, self pitying kid wasn’t the one he knew and loved. If something was wrong, if you felt something was wrong, he needed to know so he could make it better. He would make it better. That was the most important job he had.
As Bucky approached your door, the one he had painted your favourite colour against Val’s wishes, he could hear music playing. It was a song he didn’t particularly enjoy but every time you squabbled about what made music ‘good’ you hit him with the fact he almost exclusively listened to Vera Lynn, and the Beatles. He thought that was a fair point. So who was he to talk?
You were sat on your bed, sulking. You had your phone in your hand, playing music on shuffle. You were sat almost completely still with a vacant look on your face - daydreaming probably.
Bucky knocks on your door, “kid, I’m coming in” it wasn’t a question.
He walks in and looks at you before pulling out your desk chair and sitting on it, staying quiet and just observing.
“You okay kid?”
“Peachy” you mumble
“‘Cause y’know, me and you, we’re open with each other-“
You cut him off, “if you’ve come here to lecture me, now isn’t really a great time.”
“This isn’t a lecture. I’m asking you to tell me what’s wrong”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong Jamie. Just please drop it.”
“No. No way, you think I like seeing you mope around the tower and shut everyone out? This isn’t you, this isn’t the Y/N I know.” His voice was strained. He wanted to shout, but he wouldn’t. Shouting wouldn’t solve anything.
“You’ll think it’s stupid” you say with an air of resignation.
“And if I do, I’ll still be glad you told me.” He offers a shy smile, you couldn’t help but mimic it.
“It’s just- it’s everything. And it makes me feel like a clingy toddler.” You admit embarrassedly. “Ever since we moved into the tower I’ve missed how things were before. Before I had to do bullshit press conferences and I - I miss when it was just us.”
Bucky stays still, listening attentively.
“I guess It’s never been just us though. Not in a normal context anyway. Every time it’s been just us we’ve been in hiding, we were someone’s enemy, and when things finally started to settle when you became like a congressman and we had our own apartment and I could paint my room whatever colour I wanted without checking with the wicked witch of the West-“
“Be nice” Bucky warns sounding exasperated.
“You don’t like Val either” You retort, “although I guess in the 1920’s manners were like life or death” You tease. Bucky gives you a stern look, one that meant “shut up” but you had always found it marginally funny, you poke your tongue out at him before continuing with your soliloquy, “But now we’re here and the others are fine, I guess but I wanted you to be just a congressman. I hate it when you go away on missions, I hate it when you have to do your avengerly duties and I feel horrible for saying that but I really wanted a semi normal life, after everything.” You were crying now, but you weren’t acknowledging the tears running down your face, but that didn’t change that they were there. Bucky didn’t acknowledge them either. He was cool in that way.
“Kid-“ he frowns before moving over to you and scooping you into a hug that swallowed you whole.
You stayed like that for a while, the occasional sniffle escaping you.
“I know we’ve never been a… well we’ve never been a normal family, but I’m always gonna be there for you, Y/N.” He says unwaveringly. “The day I went back into that HYDRA facility I made a promise. I promised that you would never leave you and that you’d always be safe with me and I’ll be damned if I don’t make good on that promise”
Your face was sporting a rather wet smile now, “okay” your smile becomes evident in your voice.
“Okay?” Bucky responds
“Yeah, okay.”
“I’ll talk to Val, about those press conferences and meetings - you don’t have to deal with that shit if you don’t want to. And uh - if you want we can hang out sometimes. Just us two.” He offers shyly.
“I’d like that”
“As long as it doesn’t cost me too much money” Bucky grumbles in response
“Oh please, Steve once told me that you spent $5 trying to impress a girl, that’s like a million dollars today, so you can afford two ice-creams in Central Park once a week, thank you.”
A noise of amusement escapes Bucky’s lips as he recalled the fuzzy memory fondly “yeah, maybe”
He kisses your head gently, the warmth lingering, “You got any homework?”
“Always” you respond with a deep sigh.
“Get on with it then” he says before exiting your room and shutting the door
Things were gonna be okay.
Whether you lived with 20 people, or by yourself. You’d always know where to find Bucky, and he’d always be in your corner.
Hi my loves!!! I’ve been really busy recently but rest assured I’ve got plenty coming soon including reqs and a few chapters to my platonic Frank castle x teen reader. Tysm for all the support the past few months!
A/N: The old Liv can’t come to the phone right now, why? Oh! ‘Cause she’s published two fics in two days. Second, I love Frank Castle sm and I see barely any Frank with platonic reader (or I’ve read them all) so I took matters into my own hands 😛 I’m gonna make this into like a series ig? This is part one anyway.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The first time you met Frank, it was during one of your first patrols after deciding to become a vigilante. Frank was slumped up against the grave of his wife and children with a bottle of something brown and strong smelling in his hand. You approached him, cautiously but not discreetly,
“Hey sir? Are you okay?” You asked gently although your voice had a nervous undertone, you were still new to this whole vigilante thing and so far you had only helped Mr Ordoñez, the elderly man who lived across from you carry his groceries to his car and made sure Cathy, a girl from your school year who you didn’t particularly like got home safely after a night of drinking with her boyfriend. The man in front of you didn’t miss the undertone of caution in your voice, drunkenly mumbling a quiet,
“Fuck outta here kid” before turning further into the headstone and closing his eyes, his fingers found the lettering for the name ‘Maria Castle’ and he traced it, over and over.
Despite his protests, you stayed there for a while, just observing before sitting down near the dark haired man,
“Do you uh, do you want to talk? Sir.” Your voice remained soft, but there was a new found confidence as you realised the man in front wasn’t a threat. You claimed you could read people pretty well and the man- Mr. Castle, you assumed, didn’t seem like the type to hurt someone.
“You’re still here?” The man questions dryly, opening one of his eyes to take a look at you,
“Uh, yeah.” You respond, “I can walk you home if you want, it’s pretty late and you seem quite….” You couldn’t find the right word, you let your sentence trail off before eventually mumbling “delicate”
“Look kid.” The man slurs, “I’m a grown ass man, I don’t need some wannabe vigilante tryna walk me home like we’re coming back from the fucking prom”
“I’ll sit with you anyway.” You mumble. And you do, for the next two hours you sit there quietly, pretending to ignore the sniffles that escaped the man every so often. Eventually, he finishes the bottle, he presses a kiss on each of the names on the stone before standing up, he walks away and you follow close behind.
“You got a name?” The guy asks
“Uh no, not - not yet.” You say awkwardly, it was embarrassing admitting you weren’t relevant yet when that’s all you wanted to be. A beat of silence passes between you. “Do you have a name?” You ask him
“Frank.” He responds curtly.
“Frank” you repeat quietly.
The rest of the walk to his place is silent. He lived in a particularly rough part of Hell’s Kitchen, it smelt of weed and piss but had an almost homely appeal. Although you suspected the man- Frank didn’t have anywhere to call home anymore. Home is where the heart is and Frank’s heart was buried six feet under. He lived in a dingy apartment that looked like it should’ve been demolished years ago, only a few small apartments with buzzing lights and a homeless guy in the corner of the door, the door that didn’t lock so anyone could get in. His door was on the third floor. He unlocked it and slammed the lights on, “Sunshine” he nods before closing the door. Your eyebrows furrow at the nickname but you could bring it up next time. This might’ve been the first, but it wouldn’t be the last time your path would cross with Frank’s. You were going to make sure of it.
I was wondering if you'd do platonic thunderbolts reactions to teen reader making them in tomodachi life? I've been obsessed with the game recently so that means making the entire cast of the thunderbolts
Love your work!!! No pressure <3
Hi anon!! I’m SO sorry this is so late, I’ve been super busy with exams but they’re finally over. I really hope you like this, idk much about tomodachi life but I hope I’ve done your request justice 🫶
Thunderbolts & platonic teen reader
Them reacting to you making them in tomodachi life headcannons
Alexei -
You best believe Alexei is overjoyed at the concept of tomodachi life, he’s 100% going to be uploading a picture of himself as a tomodachi and encouraging his fans to also make him inq tomodachi life.
Despite his enthusiasm, I think he would nitpick how you’ve designed him.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You’re sat opposite him on the kitchen island, it was Alexei’s turn to do the dishes, but he wasn’t really focussing on them, he was humming some old soviet lullaby and more rinsing the dishes than doing any actual washing - he claimed you all lived together so “shared the same germs”. Alexei’s gaze flickers up to you,
“little one!” He calls out in his booming voice, you look up, raising your brows,
“yeah?”
“What is it you’re doing on that console? Is it Mario? Because Mario is much more fun in real life, so long as you don’t get caught” He grins, wiggling his brows up and down,
“Oh!” You copy his grin, although yours is softer, much less menacing than his, “It’s my game, look”
You turn the console to him, he wipes his hands on the tea towel before taking the console and fiddling with the buttons, looking at the mini version of him on your screen,
“That’s a good attempt, Y/N, but my beard is far superior to that one.” He chuckles before fiddling around on the game,
“Much better.” He says after a minute, handing the console back to you after having selected a practically identical beard to the one you had already chosen.
Ava -
Ava grew up bored and lonely in a lab, she definitely is familiar with tomodachi life and other similar games, she loves giving her input to your world and how to improve it or pick the most perfect feature for the thunderbolts.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
You were sat on the floor making your family, as Ava sits on the couch in the main living room, looking over your shoulder as you concentrated on making the finishing touches to your latest scene. You had both been sat like for a while, to the point where you couldn’t feel your legs anymore, you shifted around, your concentration momentarily breaking, you turn around to face Ava,
“how’s it looking?” You ask proudly,
“I look great, lifelike even.” She nods, “You’ve made John almost look not arrogant.” She adds smugly, “I like what you’ve done with my hair.” She pats your shoulder before moving up, “what’s the time?” She adds as she stretches,
“Um, almost five. Why?”
“Well we’ve been at this since two” she says leaving the room, “You have homework, we’ll continue this tomorrow, yeah?” She smiles,
“Yeah.” You nod, “I’ll try to make John look more arrogant tomorrow.”
Bob -
Similarly to Ava, Bob absolutely knows tomodachi life, this man 100% sweats playing tomodachi life. If he isn’t reading or doing housework, he’s sat down in his chair playing on his switch, it’s a huge form of escapism for him and has been since he was younger.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
The thunderbolts were away on a mission, leaving just you and Bob in the tower, Bob was in his room and you were relishing in the quiet of the tower. Of course you missed the others, but you appreciated the quiet. You got to be alone, but not feel lonely. You had your music playing out loud in the living room and your console was hooked up to the TV. You had come up with the genius idea days prior to make your family in tomodachi life. You had so far made Bucky and Ava and now you were making Bob into a tomodachi, you were about halfway through designing him when you heard a shaky breath. “Is that me?” Bob asks gently,
“Yeah” you respond cautiously, is that okay?”
Bob’s face morphs from confused shock into pure happiness, “Kid- kid, I’m honoured.”
You grin, “I think I’ve done a pretty good job”
“You have. Uh, you captured my aura.”
You both let out a laugh, Bob moves closer towards you, just watching, but he was fidgeting.
“You can have a go, if you want” you offer, he shakes his head,
“Nah, don’t want to mess up your world, I probably wouldn’t let anyone on mine”
You nod and go back to playing,
“Thanks for including me” Bob adds after a beat of silence,
“Well duh” You reply, “You’re family, all my family is included.”
He turns away after you use the ‘F’ word, his shoulders tensing slightly. You pause your music and hug him tightly, he sticks to you like a magnet. You stay like that for a while before he kisses your head, “You’re a good kid, Y/N. Never change, okay?” He says softly,
“Okay.” You smile,
“Bucky’ll kill me if I let you stay up any later, so uh, night kid.” He smiles.
“Night Bob.” You repeat, returning his smile.
Bucky-
My guy is 109 years old, he understands high quality SHIELD tech, he can infiltrate enemy technology but video games confuse him because he’s a grumpy old man. He appreciates you making him on tomodachi life, don’t get me wrong, but he thinks it’s odd.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Bucky and the rest of the thunderbolts were sat in the meeting room, Yelena was prepping them for a mission and you were sat on Bucky’s left, tapping away on your console when Bucky looks over at you, frowning slightly. The noise wasn’t unwelcome by him, quite the opposite. Bucky despised silence. He was frowning because he didn’t understand the appeal of video games, he’d much rather read a book or watch a film. But who was he to judge? Not that that would stop him from judging. He couldn’t deny that he was quite judgemental. The meeting dragged on, at some point he felt a dull tapping on his left shoulder before it switched to a stronger tap on his right shoulder
“Hey Bucky” you grin,
“Hm” He acknowledges not averting his gaze,
“Look, it’s you” you say as you show him your version of him on tomodachi life. Am amused chuckle escapes him,
“Thanks, Y/N, lifelike”
“Isn’t it just” your grin remained, despite your sarcastic retort,
“Is that why you’ve been glued to that device all day?” Bucky asks sounding fed up,
“I’m making everyone, look.” You say softly as you show him your progress, “Well I think it’s constructive.” You mumble, Bucky nods
“Sure thing kiddo” But he ruffles your hair anyway.
John -
John thinks it’s pretty cool, he likes your creativity and appreciates being included, but he will complain if he feels you’ve mischaracterised him or if his tomodachi isn’t in a room he approves, like no he wouldn’t be talking Alexei in the bar area, he’d more likelybe by himself in the kitchen.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
John was just coming out of his bedroom, his hair still damp from his shower after his morning workout - the workout you always said was too early. You exit your own room and mumble a quick “Morning” before rushing past him to beat him to the kitchen you sit at the table as you fuss in your bag to pull out your console and find your tomodachi version of John. The man who in real life was in the fridge picking out fruit for his daily smoothie.
“Hey Johnathan, check it out.” You say as you slide him your console, key places the punnets of strawberries and the chunks of mango on the countertop before picking up your console,
“Firstly, don’t call me Johnathan-“
You cut him off, “But that’s your name” you say as you give him a shit eating grin,
“Secondly” he continues, “Is that me, because I’d never wear that.”
“Dude, it’s meant to be your suit! It even has your helmet”
“Sure kid, but I mean, it isn’t accurate.”
“You’re just bitter, John”
“Call it what you want” He retorts as he starts the blender, he gets out two glasses, pouring half the smoothie in his class and the other half in your glass.
“You appreciate it really” You smile as you take a sip,
“You’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up” He responds with a smile that matched yours.
Yelena -
I can’t see Yelena being totally into video games, but I think she’s a sucker for a good interior design game. So, when she’s introduced to tomodachi life through you, she thinks it’s great, she’s especially flattered when she finds out you created her in tomodachi life.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
It had been your turn to do the laundry, jobs were on a rotating schedule, you had something to do 6 out of 7 days of the week. You were folding towels in the training room when Yelena appears behind you
“Boo” she smirks, making you jump and drop the towels you were holding. Yelena laughs at your reaction, and an amused chuckle escapes your lips,
“you scared me!” You laugh, Yelena the towels and puts them back in your arms,
“So,” she starts as she jumps up on the table and sits down,
“what’s on the television Y/N?”
“Oh - did I forget to turn off tomodachi life?” you question, mentally face palming yourself.
“Did you make me?” She grins knowingly,
“How d’you like yourself?”
“I look adorable. Is that the same game Bob plays?”
“Uh huh, and I’m so glad you like it Lena- did you see, I even gave you braids”
“I know, thanks Y/N” She says, “Also you need to be more aware of your surroundings, I’ve been in here for ages.” She adds
“Sorry im not a trained assassin” you mutter.
“Thank god, you don’t deserve something like that. You’re the best of us Y/N.”
You offer her a sad smile, but stay quiet
“At least my little cartoon me is normal- not messed up like me.”
“I don’t think you’re messed up Yelena.”
You both sit in silence for a while, before Yelena starts humming a song from some old musical she loves, “Do you think cartoon me loves this song too?”
“I think every version of you loves that song, Lena.”
I’m so sorry if you don’t take requests but I was wondering if you do take requests maybe Bucky headcons where you are liek 16 ish 15 and he’s like your father figure maybe and at Tony’s funeral your all like taking care of Morgan and buckys like ahwwww cause it’s liek watching you grow up into like someone rly nice idk and maybe like your showing Morgan cheerleading or smth and Bucky remember when you was like five and was starting cheer and how far you’ve come xx🤍🤍
Bucky Barnes & platonic!reader
A/N: hi!!! Tysm for your request, I really hope I’ve done it justice for you :)
It was surprisingly nice weather for October.
It felt wrong for it to be this pleasant at a funeral of the man who had just saved humanity, sacrificing himself for not just his daughter and wife, but the other 3 Billion people who had blipped away.
Tony stark had been described as many things throughout his life. But in his death, Selfless could be added to that list.
You didn’t really know Tony, you knew of him, who didn’t? But you had never really formed a connection with him, you didn’t really get a chance to. You had been living with Steve during the blip, growing up everyday without the caring, watchful eye of your father figure. Steve was great; He just wasn’t Bucky. And in the blink of an eye for Bucky, you had changed from a nervous, child, with a passion for cheer and gymnastics into a confident teen - who still had a passion for cheer and gymnasts that had only grown in his absence.
During the service, you and Bucky were stood quietly behind. You felt weird going any closer and so did Bucky. Tony’s death had made Bucky’s guilt increase tenfold. Bucky had meant to apologise. For everything. For killing Tony’s parents and for what happened in the airport and for any other way he might’ve hurt the man. And now, Tony was gone. He’d never be able to apologise.
You couldn’t help but let your gaze keep averting to Morgan. The poor girl was curled up into her mom, her grief too heavy for a heart so young. Her dad left, so you could have yours back. Every-time you looked at Morgan you subconsciously curled closer into Bucky. Like you couldn’t bear the thought of him meeting a fate like that. Like you needed to remind yourself that he was actually here now. He was real. You weren’t hallucinating him. If you had it your way, you’d wrap him up in bubble wrap and keep him safe behind glass.
Every-time Bucky noticed your behaviour, he’d press a soft kiss to your head or squeeze your arm gently. You appreciated that. He knew you did.
The funeral had stretched on. You had never been to a funeral, so you weren’t really sure how long they were meant to last. But you suspected not this long. It had been a while since you had seen Morgan. Everyone else was chatting and mingling but Morgan had wandered off somewhere.
It didn’t take you long to find her, as soon as you walked up the stairs you saw the purple door with ‘Morgan’ written in blue lettering. You knocked gently on her door,
“Morgan?”
You call out softly. You could barely remove your knuckle from the door before a brunette girl with big eyes opened it.
“Who are you?”
She asks cautiously, holding out her hand, you smile.
“I’m Y/N” you say offering her your hand.
She shakes it and looks around.
“you kept looking at me.” She observes
“Oh, yeah I uh, I did”
“Why?”
“I just - I know how it feels to miss someone.”
“You do?” She asks inquisitively
“Yeah- my dad left for five years and then yours saved him.”
“But that’s just five years.” She frowns, “I have to miss my dad forever.”
Her eyes fill with tears and you hug her tight.
“I know Morgan.” You whisper, providing as much comfort to the child as you could.
“Hey, do you know what I do when I need a distraction?” You ask her with a smile.
She looks up from your shoulder and sniffles, “What?” She asks expectantly.
“I do cheer.” You smile
“Like in the films?”
“Uh-huh.” Your smile widens, turning into an exhilarated grin at the chance to discuss your passion.
You sit there for a while, telling her about your cheerleading. The competitions you had won, the people you had met, what your main roles on the team were. Morgan sat there in awe, asking a question every so often.
At some point, Bucky had realised your prolonged absence from his side. He had noticed you go as soon as you left. Being a super soldier/ex assassin he noticed things most people ignored, or simply just didn’t regard. With reluctance, Bucky trudged up the stairs, he was tempted to ask Pepper if that was okay, but he couldn’t bring himself to. He patted Sam’s shoulder and mumbled something about ‘finding the kid’.
He was about to knock on Morgan’s bedroom door when he heard your voice enthusiastically explaining your upcoming competition. He smiled to himself, he remembered when he had just found you. You were a small thing back then, always nervous and hiding behind Bucky. But you knew you loved cheer.
You had first mentioned the topic to Bucky when he was in a safe house, writing in one of his journals about a dream that he had the night before. He couldn’t tell if it was something that actually happened or wishful thinking.
“Bucky?” You asked in your soft, unsure voice.
“What.” He asks a little too gruffly, you step back. Worried you had crossed some sort of boundary before he sighs and closes his notebook, crouching down to your height, “What is it kid?” He asks softly, he was tired though. That was made apparent from his voice and his eyes. God knows he needed a real break and now he was the reluctant father to a small child.
“I just- I saw this advert on the telly for a gymnastics club, I wanted to go.” You say fiddling with your fingers.
He holds your hands in flesh hand, he never touched you with the metal one. It had caused so much suffering and he didn’t want you to be tainted by that.
Overtime, he had started taking you to gymnastics classes and that quickly evolved into cheer classes and before Bucky knew it, he was comforting you after you had messed up your first competition.
Cheer had been there for you when even Bucky hadn’t been, and now you were passing it onto Morgan for her to enjoy whenever she needed it. You gave her the address of a good cheer club in her area and told her that if she ever needed anything- cheer related or not, you’d be just a phone call away. You step out of her room, feeling a little lighter, as you do Bucky smiles at you, a soft smile that conveys a sense of pride he has in you before he walks back downstairs. You smile to yourself, before following Bucky downstairs and leaving Morgan to research cheer and gymnastics.
A/N - I’m actually quite proud of this one so I hope you guys like it too. I lowkey made mutantphobia like homophobia so it’s implied that reader has a bad relationship with their parents.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your teacher - Dr. Grey, handing out your biology papers. You just knew you failed it. Okay, in fairness you hadn’t studied for it, but failure still sucked. Dr. Grey puts your paper on your desk, tapping it gently with a red fingernail, “This is disappointing from you, Y/N” she frowns. You pick up your paper and slump in your chair as you see the red ‘D’ in a big circle, next to it was a ‘see me after class’ in Jean’s swirly handwriting. You stuff the page into your bag, like if you ignored it, it wasn’t real. That’s how everything felt in your life at the moment. Like how you ignored you were a mutant. Not thinking about it made it easier. Although that was pretty hard to ignore when your teacher was stood in front of you writing on the whiteboard without using her hands.
The rest of class dragged, Jean had called your name twice, once for not paying attention and once for having your head on the desk.
Class ends and you hang back, “You uh, you asked to see me Dr. Grey?” You say tentatively.
Jean finishes what she was doing before pulling out a seat for you, using her telekinesis.
“What’s going on, Kid?” She asks softly
You were pretty close with Jean. Your parents were pretty mutantphobic and had acted differently with you ever since you told them about your mutation. But Jean had always been there. She had listened to you and comforted you and made sure you never felt alone. Of course, you weren’t the only young person in Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters with a dissatisfying home-life, but Jean saw you and was reminded of herself when she was younger.
“I don’t know” you mumble, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t lie. Y/N”
“I don’t! I have other classes y’know” you say tersely.
“I know we’re friends but I can still give you dentition.” She reminds you.
“I don’t have to tell you the in’s and out’s of my life. You’re not my mother.” You say harshly.
That one stung. Ever since you joined the school Jean and Scott had been like parents to you. It was a low blow to say that to her. She knew she wasn’t your mother, but your comment hurt nonetheless. You were family. Bonded for life whether you like it or not.
“I still need to speak to you about your grades.” Jean replies. She was calm, but her voice had lost its previous softness.
“Headteacher Monroe needs to sign this slip to acknowledge you’re failing” she adds.
“Fine” you say snatching the slip from her hands and storming out. Forgetting your bag in the process. You realised almost as soon as you left the classroom, but your pride wouldn’t let you go back and get it. Once you leave, Jean slumps in her desk chair, “shit” she mumbles softly.
You have your next biology lesson three days later. you had cooled off since your earlier outburst - as had Jean. But you hadn’t really interacted with each other since.
The lesson drags on, you feel every minute to it. Eventually, the bell rings and your classmates hurry out to wherever they were off to next. You linger though, before walking up to Jean’s desk with your tail tucked between your legs and a guilty look on your face.
Jean doesn’t acknowledge you at first, just keeps filing through the papers she had to grade.
“I got Storm to sign my slip” you say handing the scrambled piece of paper to her.
“Sorry I’m failing. And I’m sorry for the other day. You didn’t deserve that” you say as you feel your cheeks get warm and the beginning of tears burning in your eyes, like everything you had been holding in for the past few weeks was finally catching up with you. “I’m- my mutation is starting to become physical and it’s draining all of my energy to keep me looking normal and not green and I don’t know what to do” you choke out a sob, all of your fears escaping you like word vomit. You don’t know when Jean moved from her desk to your side, but her arms were around you and her chin was resting on your head. She was gently rubbing your back, “It’s normal for some effects of your Mutation to be delayed at first. Mine certainly was.” She says in a subdued manner.
“But if I look like a mutie, my parents won’t ever accept me” you whisper, your voice breaking at the word ‘Mutie’. You knew you probably shouldn’t be calling yourself that word in front of Jean, but right now? That’s exactly what you felt like. Because Mutants were a sore spot in society, but mutants who had a physical mutation were a completely different kettle of fish all together. Even some other mutants felt superior to those who had physical mutations.
“Don’t call yourself that” she says firmly. “If we don’t want Humans to go around calling us that word we shouldn’t describe ourselves like that.” Jean’s eyebrows were furrowed, you don’t respond to her, you just melted further into her embrace.
“Can I see you?” She asks carefully, “The real you?”
“Don’t say it like that” you huff, but you drop your concentration on up-keeping your façade, revealing to Jean the green your skin now was, “I look like shrek” you sniffle.
“Hey, it’s not that bad” she laughs, stepping away from the hug and inspecting you, “you’re still you, just green- have you spoken to Doctor McCoy?”
“No?” You respond.
“You should, he’d understand how you’re feeling”
“I’ll email him or something” you mumble before concentrating on trying to return to your regular skin-colour.
“Hey, don’t” Jean places a hand on your arm, “is this why you’re failing? You’re wasting all your energy on trying to fit in?” Goddamn it she’d called you out. She was good. Better than most gave her credit for. Obviously she was a formidable telepath, but her ability to read people was scarily impressive too.
“Yeah.” You confess shyly. “I’m worried about everything and school is the least of my worries right now Jean.”
“Speak to the therapist, or me; or Scott; or Storm; or your friends, you aren’t alone in this my love” she sighs.
“I’m the only one in my year with a physical mutation.”
“You’re not the only mutant with a physical mutation though, are you?”
You huff, knowing she was right. A blanket of comfortable silence is draped over the both of you. You still had worries about this new aspect of your mutation but no matter what happened you knew you would always have Jean. You rest your head on her shoulder and she presses a soft, reassuring kiss to your temple. Your biology grade could wait, for now, you just wanted to bask in the comfort you were being given. Everything had been forgotten, everything including the fact you were stood in a classroom completely green. The beginnings of acceptance, and even contentment at your physical state were seeping into your bones.
A/N - not timeline complaint with the TV show (because I haven’t watched it) but it’s complaint with comic earth 616 from what I researched.
“Is Matt coming to parents night tonight?” Your best friend, Charlie asks.
Shit. You had forgotten all about that.
“That’s tonight?” You respond, sounding lost
“Yeah? Teachers have been bitching about it for weeks”
“Oh- I guess I wasn’t paying attention”
“You never do” Charlie sighs, “Anyway, I need to get to Math, I’ll text you later, yeah?”
“Bye char!” You shout before running out the school to Matt’s office. Thank God for free periods.
You approach Nelson and Murdock, Matt was already stood outside the door. Damned heightened senses.
“You alright Sweetheart?” Matt asks not unkindly, you take a seat next to him,
“Are you busy tonight?” You ask carefully
“Not particularly, just work” he replies calmly, “Why are you asking?”
“Parent teacher night”
“I know, the school emailed about a fortnight ago.” He says with a chuckle as he ruffles Y/N’s hair.
“Oh- oh that’s good.” You say contentedly.
“You ran across the city for nothing” he laughs before ruffling your hair.
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up dickhead” you say smacking the underside of his head.
You lost your father when you were 5 - Matt was 21. He was in college and now he was raising his half sister.
You had never known your mother, she had left slightly after she had given birth to you, so it was just you, your dad and Matt.
Until that night.
Matt had filed for custody of you almost immediately and he’d raised you ever since.
You both retreat into his office, you open his mini fridge that was in the corner of the small room, hoping to find a drink, you frown when you only find a mouldy looking sandwich. “You need to restock your mini fridge Matty” you say matter of factly. “It’s offensive how barren it is”
“My priorities are not making sure my fridge has soda for you, sorry” he says with a sarcastic scoff
“Well, maybe you need to rethink your priorities” you mumble, that comment earns you a flick to the eyebrow, “Hey!” You shout at him, although there was a massive grin plastered on your face.
Hours later and you were walking through the school, Matt remembered the layout well enough, he had only gone there …. Too many years prior.
A member of the parent association approaches you and Matt, she grins at you both, before she does a double take over Matt, “How are you finding everything sir?” She asks rather patronisingly.
If you were completely honest, you forgot that Matt was blind half the time, it was just your life, that’s just how things were, and when people acted like he was incapable it pissed you off. Matt could tell it pissed you off, he could hear your heartbeat change ever so slightly, he gently squeezes your arm, reminding you that some people forgot all social cues when acting with a disabled person.
“Fine thank you” Matt smiles politely.
“Okay - listen if you need anything- anyone to guide you or explain-“ she starts
“Oh my god, he can find his way around a goddamn school” you snap.
Matt sighs, “thank you Y/N.” He says softly before offering a smile to the woman in front of you both and walking you away.
“You good?” He asks softly.
“Just don’t like people treating you like you’re a child” you say defensively.
He pats your shoulder before kissing your head.
“Matty” you frown, not appreciating your big brother being mushy at your school.
“Which teacher am I speaking to first?” He asks
“Miss Taylor” you say fidgeting.
“She’s your English teacher, right?”
“Yeah”
English had always been your favourite, ever since you were a kid. Matt could recall many times where he would come back from patrol back in the early days of him being daredevil only to hear your breathing that told him you were still very much wide awake, or feel the subtle heat from the too hot lamp bulb that had clearly been on for hours because you were set on finishing ‘Fantastic Mr. Fox’ in one night. You were still a bibliophile now, obviously you weren’t reading ‘Fantastic Mr. Fox’ anymore, but Matty could still come home from patrol and hear that you were awake.
“What do you think she’ll say?” He asks with a distant smile.
“Umm, probably something along the lines of, a pleasure to teach but needs to stop chatting” you grin.
Matt laughs out loud at that, typical you.
Parents evening is over quickly enough, you were getting good grades, you had good friendships, and all of your teachers spoke highly of you - even if most of them did add that you needed to stop gossiping in class.
As a treat, Matt let you pick where you wanted to get dinner, you chose your favourite - duh.
And you enjoyed a quiet night in with Matt, at least until he went to patrol.
Before he left, he could hear your heart rate increase slightly. It always did, he never commented on it, but it was silently acknowledged by him. He handed you the hot drink he made you every night, letting you put it on the side before hugging you.
“I’m proud of you sweetheart” he says softly.
“Thanks Matty.” You say leaning into his embrace.
He kisses your head before ruffling your hair, “Don’t stay up too late Y/N”
“Bro I literally don’t” You state defensively,
“Don’t lie either. I’m a real,y great lawyer. I know things”
“You’re a modest lawyer”
“Ha Ha Ha” Matt says sarcastically before kissing your head again, “I’ll be back by three, okay?”
“Okay” you nod.
“And I expect to hear you fast asleep by that time, Mrs Grey said you have a pop quiz tomorrow” he teases.
“Are you joking?” You deadpan.
“I don’t know.” He grins before leaving out the window.
He kept his word. He was back by Three. And Matt was happy to hear that you had kept yours. You were flat out.
Matt crept into your room, switching your lamp out with a soft ‘click’ before putting the book that was open on your chest onto your bedside table. He pulls your comforter up higher before shutting your door and putting your finished mug in the sink. Eventually succumbing to a slumber in his room.
Living with the thunderbolts as Bucky’s ward headcannons!
Alexei -
Personally I think Alexei has a soft spot for children - even though reader is a teen/young adult, Alexei loves telling them stories from the ‘good old days’ when he was the red guardian.
If you ever have friends round for a sleepover he will make sure you know where his alcohol is, even if that’s not your vibe
Even though you probably don’t have much to bond over, with him being a ??? Year old super soldier and you being yourself, you have the BEST midnight chats, this man knows a lot about modern pop culture and will listen to songs you recommend him
Would Bucky trust him to babysit? - No, even though he’s like a weird loveable uncle he still sold out Natasha and Yelena to Dreykov (Fuck you Alexei). Reader may, or may not know this information, either way they know something dark lingers beneath his gentle giant nature.
Ava -
Was unsure of reader at first, she came around fairly quickly though, it took multiple occasions of her sitting on the same couch as you in silence before she was comfortable to talk with you. She was honestly scared of somehow corrupting you- in fact all of them were.
Phases through walls to fuck with you all the time. Out of everyone living in the tower, you’re still getting used to mutants and the world of mutations. Too many times you’ve been chilling in the tower before your peace is shattered because someone decided to show their powers off.
I can see Ava’s guilty pleasure being reality TV. She does the thing where she’ll stand in front of the TV, scoff and make a comment, but ten minutes later she’s still stood there asking questions
Would Bucky trust her to babysit?- Yes, he knows that she’s sensible, she’s tough and she keeps you straight “Have you done your homework?”, “Have you had any water today?”, etc. Despite the fact she can be off putting, she genuinely cares about those she trusts and would give them a kidney if they needed one.
Bob-
I can one million percent envision Bob walking reader to and from school or to their bus stop. I don’t think Bob can drive, but since he’s (imo) an early riser it’s no problem for him. He appreciates the early morning stroll anyway.
Bob knows everyone’s favourite foods - I don’t think he’s a particularly good cook, his culinary capabilities stop at boiling dried pasta and heating up sauce, but Bob always makes sure everyone’s favourite snacks are in the cupboard.
I think that he and reader would be close, Bob was readers age only a few years ago, he remembers what being a teenager is like. Despite this he won’t touch you. He hates that he made the rest of his family relive their most vulnerable moments, making an already emotional teenager feel even more emotional is a complete no for him, he won’t even risk putting something in your hand. He’ll get more comfortable with touch as time goes on though - I think that Bob is a very tactile person, being afraid to display that language kills him.
Would Bucky trust him to babysit?- Surprisingly probably not, I think in theory Bucky would be more than happy to let Bob look after you but he’d be checking up on both of you every thirty minutes, tbh I’m not sure if Bob would feel comfortable being responsible for a whole other human anyway, he’s still trying to reconnect with and learn to trust himself.
Bucky (check This post for context!) -
Bucky is super into readers school life, he doesn’t push, just makes sure they’re doing their best. He also will correct reader on historical facts for example, giving them obscure pieces of information. From the little he remembers about WWII he will tell reader smth and they’ll sit there like “wtf, how do you know that?” Bucky will just shrug and go back to helping with the assignment.
I think he gets genuinely shocked at the price of things, like more shocked than the average person, you’ll ask for money to go out and he’ll give you $5 and tell you to keep whatever you don’t spend before remembering that $5 is no longer equivalent to around $280. He sighs before taking another $20 out of his wallet. Despite this, he’s really switched on in other ways, like he won’t fall for AI and this man is unragebaitable.
He’s really open with you. He’s huge on respect and trust but he knows it’s a two way street, you know you can always go to him, no matter how big or small the issue is. Part of his openness means he will tell you about his past or when he has nightmares- he trusts that you know there’s a time and a place to ask about that stuff though. Your boundaries with each other around that stuff are crystal clear.
Bonus hc! He’ll often times walk into your bedroom and silently leave a book or vinyl on your bed before walking out again, not bringing up the piece of media until you do.
John -
I think John took the longest to come round to reader, he’s awkward around kids, they remind him too much of his own son that he didn’t parent. John is also weary around teenagers, he’s seen so many rag tag kids come through the army that he doesn’t assume there’s such a thing as a good teenager, he’s convinced he wasn’t “like that” as a teenager.
When he does realise reader is a genuine kid, he can be found playing catch with them whilst giving them advice on stuff, mostly advice on people, out of all the thunderbolts John is the most peopley person.
He will wind you up, intended or not. Bucky might be unragebaitable but John is the king of rage baiting. Like you can be talking about something and he will sit there straight faced and say “I don’t believe in that” even if he does.
Would Bucky trust him to babysit? - I think he would trust him to look after reader, but John won’t, he’s very much “they’re a literal teenager, they don’t need to be babysat”. Queue Bucky glaring at him from the corner.
Yelena -
Yelena does readers hair every day before school, it’s neat and out of your face no matter if you have long or short hair. If it’s long your hair will be in some type of braid.
Assuming reader has no fighting skills, Yelena will train them. She was a victim of the red-room, she knows what children can be trained to do, if you accidentally befriend a red-room spy you can defend yourself - at least for a short while. She taught you three different ways to defend yourself with stationery and there’s a penknife in your school bag. Just in case.
Can read moods scarily well. This woman always knows how someone is feeling. If you want a hug, she’ll give you a hug. If you want to be left alone, she’ll tell other to leave you be.
Bonus hc! Because I love Yelena sm. Yelena gets nightmares often, or daydreams about her past. Reader is a great source of comfort to her, to know that there’s at least one child out there who she hasn’t hurt or traumatised.
Does Bucky trust her to babysit? - yes, he knows when he’s away yelena will keep you company. She’ll spoil you but make sure you’re being busy and productive. Yelena is to reader, what Nat was to her.
Are you planning to post semi regularly now that your back?? Btw Your last fic was so cute/sweet/adorable/all the good words, I would love pt. 2 or more of that kinds thing 🙏
Hiii! I absolutely am planning to post regularly and I can def make a part two or similar. Ty for your ask 🫶
A/n: guys I haven’t posted in YEARS, so I apologise if this is awful. Pls pls pls send marvel and DC requests, I’ll be so happy to write them!
It was late. Too late to be stalking the halls of the new avengers tower. You were surprised no one had heard you creeping around, all of your housemates were pretty light sleepers- the perks of trauma you supposed to yourself. Unlike the other ‘new avengers’ you didn’t have a traumatic past. No one had fucked you up in unimaginable ways. You were… normal. You were just y/n. At least that’s how you saw yourself.
You were snapped out of your thoughts when a rather grumpy looking super soldier opened his door, “Kid?”
You almost smiled- in the 15 months you’d been living with the thunderbolts, as Bucky’s ward you didn’t think you had ever heard him call you by your name.
“Oh- Bucky I’m - sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up” you say frowning.
“It’s fine.” Bucky replies as he beckons you over.
You walk over to him, looking around before jumping onto his bed, your hand finding the head of his white cat, Alpine. You gently pet the soft fur on her head.
“Hey” Bucky says as he sits on the corner of his bed. He didn’t miss how your eyes lingered on the blanket and pillows on the floor.
You had met Bucky just over two years ago. He was sat silently in front of your great grandmother’s grave. Being the mouthy child you were (still were if you asked Bucky) you demanded to know who he was and why he was at your grandmother’s grave. He explained his situation to you. You weren’t an idiot, you knew who the winter soldier was - you trusted Bucky though. He seemed like a good man. Great grandma Rebecca had always spoken highly of her older brother who tragically died at war, why shouldn’t you trust him?
It took time but he trusted you as well, and when he found out you were an orphan? The legal paperwork to adopt you had been filled out quickly. You would say eagerly - great uncle buck denied that though. It had been you and Bucky ever since. Well, sometimes there was Sam and ever since Val had recruited Bucky, it had been Alexei, John, Yelena, Ava, and Bob too. Not that you minded - the more the merrier after all.
“Y/n.” Bucky says snapping you out of your daydream.
“Oh, right. Daydreaming” you say with a smile before looking over at the older man opposite you.
“You okay kid? Why are you up so late anyway?” He asks inquisitively, pulling alpine away from the pillow she was using as a scratch post.
“I didn’t mean to be- I just had a bad dream. Couldn’t fall asleep again.”
“Wanna talk about it?” He says with an air of concern about him.
“It’s stupid” you frown
“Bullshit.” He responds with a raise of his brow
“It is Bucky. Compared to everyone else-“
“Are you everyone else?” He asks gruffly
“Well no but-“
“Kid if something scares you then it scares you.” He interrupts, “Don’t feel embarrassed just because you don’t have trauma that doesn’t let you sleep at night, I mean goddamn kid- I can barely sleep on a bed most nights you’re not the abnormal one here.” He says running a hand through his hair.
“It really was a stupid nightmare” you mumble, “This person drove into a zoo and tried to kidnap a flamingo”
Bucky lets out a short laugh, “That is stupid” he smiles, averting his gaze back over to alpine, who was now asleep in his lap. “But if it scared you, it scared you. Dreams have a funny way of scaring you. You just have to remember that they’re not real, they can’t hurt you”
You bask in that - you couldn’t lie, the man gave good advice. There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence between you.
“Take your own advice, old man” You say with a cheeky grin, interrupting the silence.
“Cheeky.” Bucky tries to say sternly, but you see the way the corners of his mouth turn up, he checks the clock on the wall, “Get back to sleep kid.”
You sit still for a moment, pondering on whether or not you should ask him to tuck you back in. You decide you should, no harm in asking, after all.
“Can you tuck me in?” You ask softly, looking over at him with a hopeful gaze.
“C’mon kiddo” he mumbles as he peels Alpine off his lap, opening his door and walking out, holding it open for you.
“Thanks” you whisper, Bucky nods in acknowledgement but doesn’t say anything else, staying a step or two behind you during the short walk to your room.
You open your door, looking around your sanctuary, “You need to tidy your room. It’s a mess.” Bucky remarks.
“It’s just clutter” you shrug before slipping under your covers, shifting around to get comfortable. Bucky puts an extra blanket on top of you before kissing your forehead, “Sleep.” He says gruffly. “You know where I am if you need anything. He makes his way out, lingering by the doorway. “Tidy this room tomorrow”
“Yeah, yeah, night Jamie.” You say with an audible eye roll.
“Jamie?” He asks, sounding surprised, like the nickname had reminded him of a memory long forgotten.
“Yeah, is that okay?” You reply sincerely.
Bucky simply nods before shutting your door, then re-opening it, “Night” he says shutting the door again, with a soft click. You hear him pad down the hall before you eventually succumb to sleep.
Book store - The shorter character is standing on their tallest tiptoes, desperately trying to reach a book on the top shelf when the handsome taller character effortlessly reaches up and hands it to the shorter character who's glaring up at the taller one, "I didn't need your help" Short says pugnaciously, "I wanted to help" Tall grins feigning innocence.
restaurant - The cool, rich character is out with their family celebrating something at the new, prestigious, acclaimed restaurant where the pretty nerd from their school is assigned as their server, it's safe to say that server earned a generous tip that night.
School - The quiet outgoing character rushes down the hallway in fears of being late for class, they pull out their phone to double check the room number and as they do the collide into the dark, brooding character, "Watch where you're going" They say with a rude tone as they quickly pick up the books they dropped and walk off, but not before shooting a glare at the quiet one, "You forgot your book" quiet shouts out, when the brooding character ignores them. The quiet character makes it their mission to return the book to the Brooding character. (This can be for high school or college/uni)
Library - Character B is reading the book Character A desperately needs for school, "That's my book" A says moodily, "Can't see your name on it" A replies with a shit eating grin before continuing their sentence, "But I'd like to know your name' they add delicately
Cinema - Both A and B go to the cinema alone to watch some random movie neither had seen the prequel/s to, A spots B googling the plot of the first film, at some point they notice B staring over their shoulder, "Do you mind?" A asks softly, "So what happened in the first film?" B asks sounding genuinely confused.
⁃ Everyone in the class loved Camilla romantically at some point, Francis often used her as a way of denying his sexuality.
⁃ Henry’s roses bloomed every year after his death, despite not being taken care of very well, on the rare occasion Richard visited Vermont, specifically Hampden he looked at the roses and found peace in the fact that nature fulfilled Henry’s wish of immortality.
⁃ Julian died not long after Henry did, the shock and disparity of the situation led him to madness and heartbreak only cured by death.
⁃ By the time Bunny was found he should’ve been already rotting, his skin grey and shrivelled. Due to the weather his body had been preserved. I can’t remember whether it states what funeral type he had in the book but since his parents were rich it was probably open casket; The sight of bunny’s body in death disturbed the class deeply, haunting them and fearing that somehow, someday he might come back, they all had mild paranoia for weeks, Henry more so than the others.
⁃ Camilla adored ‘the picture of Dorian Grey’ she read it many times, she could practically recite the first few chapters by the time she was 19, yet after Henry’s death she couldn’t read it without thinking about the at the time insignificant link he made between beauty and terror, she tried many times to read it but couldn’t without feeling physically ill.
⁃ Camilla never fell in love again the same way, she picked her men carefully, based on their similarities to Henry, although it’s mentioned in the book and is therefore cannon; she never did fall in love again, she found it, but never accepted it.
converse and doc martens
a wolfstar fic :)
warnings: swearing, no way am I about to write canon marauders that shit's way too depressing pretend Tom Riddle doesn't exist or smth <3
YEAR 1
November 19th 1971
Sirius had worn black ankle boots for as long as he could remember. They were verryyy basic but expensive ( he assumed so anyway) and every male in the Black family owned at least 1 pair.
The weird thing was Sirius had never remembered buying them or having them bought for him so he had come to the conclusion that Kreacher must've brought them or rather been told to buy them. The other weird thing was that Sirius had never even taken notice of said shoes. not until he came to Hogwarts anyway and he quickly came to the conclusion that he needed new shoes. sure the black family staple was fine for lessons but not really any other time but Sirius figured that it wasn't thaattt big a deal as he never needed to be wearing cool shoes. He just wanted to fit in with his friends.
YEAR 2
September 1st 1972
Sirius desperately needed new shoes, his were wayyy to old fashioned. James had come to school this year with a flashy new pair of red Converse and Sirius was jealous to say the least. Peter had his usual blue Nikes' on and Remus wore a pair of brown Converse and was convinced James was trying to copy him.
"I'm not tryna copy you mate" James sighed
" no, no the damage is done now" Remus said, trying to act offended but failing miserably
" it's not like they're even the same colour" peter added, trying to shed light on the situation
" It doesn't matter Pete, they're the same shoe so they might as bloody well be the same colour"
" Moony stop being so dramatic, it's just a pair of shoes" Sirius complained, he had more important things to be worrying about than if James was copying Remus' shoe choice (like his brothers house even though he already knew Regulus was doomed to be in Slytherin)
" Well that's hypocritical coming from you, mister 'I hate my shoes, it's borderline child abuse that Walpurga and Orion make me wear these dreadful things'." Remus dropped his thick Welsh accent, switching it for a posher more west London one, earning a snicker from Peter, a quiet laugh from James (even though he was trying his very best not to) and an eye roll from Sirius.
"Well you'd be complaining about them too, look at them" Sirius whined like a dog (pun intended)
"now you've got him stared agai- OW SIRIUS THAT HURT" James yelped
"SERVES YOU RIGHT, YOU'RE MEANT TO BE MY MATE"
"WELL I WON'T BE IF YOU KEEP THROWING SHIT AT ME"
And with that the marauders' compartment on the train exploded into a fit of laughter.
YEAR 3
Christmas day 1973
James, Sirius and Remus had arrived at the potters around mid-day. There were 2 full moons in December that year within a 2 week time-frame meaning that Christmas eve was ruined for Remus but he was excited to spend Christmas day with the potters.
Fleamont picked the boys up at 11 am on christmas morning
"where's mum?"
"I am wounded Mr James Fleamont Potter, your poor, old father goes to the effort to pick you up and this is what I get in return" Fleamont spoke in a sarcastic but loving tone complete with ruffling James' hair.
"James you're so disrespectful, you should respect your parents" Sirius said with a shit eating grin on his face.
"You're one to talk Sirius you're only trying to be a kiss ass to Mr & Mrs Potter. Remus (correctly) stated.
" I am not, i'm always this -
"annoying?" James suggested.
"Irritating" Remus added.
a faint "dickheads" could be heard coming from Sirius under his breath.
"I was going to say-" Sirius continued.
"Boys, boys, enough with the banter I want to open presents; Mia made me wait for you lot. And I hardly think she'd be happy if her Christmas dinner went cold.
Hours later, when everyone was full, tired and slightly drunk (unbeknownst to Euphimia) it was finally time to open presents. James was thrilled with his new broom and a second pair of converse and he was impatiently drumming his fingers on the handle of the broom waiting for everyone else to open their presents. He was also ever so slightly pissed off at Sirius and Remus for the comment they made about Lily finally thinking he was cool.
Remus was over the moon (no pun intended, sorry) with his set of clothbound classic muggle literature and a David Bowie vinyl.
And Sirius, oh Sirius, Sirius could not fathom words into how excited and greatful he was for his gift. A pair of classic, black doc martens. He had to refrain from screaming "fuck yes" and running into Fleamont and Euphimia and hugging them.
"do you like them dear?" Euphimia asked, slightly concerned at Sirius' reaction especially as James had promised her that Sirius would love them.
"LIKE THEM I LOVE 'EM THANK YOU SO MUCH"
"can we go outside now?" James asked impatiently
Euphimia sighed and almost reluctantly said "yes"
And a myriad of excited and happy "thank you's'" could be heard.
James was taking his new broom for a spin and Sirius and Remus were sat next to each other on the damp grass in the Potters' back garden. Sirius was looking down at his new 'Docs'' admirably and Remus was reading 'The picture of Dorian Grey' out loud. Sirius was listening, trying to ignore the tightening feeling in his chest that must've been from the firewhiskey or excitement from the day (nothing else especially not the boy next to him) and with that Christmas day 1973 came to a close.
SUMMER HOLIDAYS
August 10th 1974
Sirius loved his doc martens. He had since when he got them, his parents, however didn't. Walpurga and Orion had threatened to Burn the shoes the moment he walked through the door with them on at the start of the summer holidays, but if wearing the shoes angered his parents he would keep wearing them. Sirius thought the shoes made him look badass, (Regulus did too, but him and his brother weren't exactly on speaking terms at the moment.) He thought about how perfectly his shoes contrasted with James' and how Remus once said he looked "fit" in them and how "all the girls must be mental about him" when he wears them, even professor Mcgonagall, who deemed them 'inappropriate' for school said that they suited him. My god Sirius was looking forward to school, he wanted to see James and Peter and Lily turning down James in the most girlboss ways and Marlene with all her new piercings she acquired over the summer and Mary who he fancied. Sirius really liked Mary, he thought she was really cool, and a total sweetheart. He was looking forward to seeing Remus too, but something felt off about him, or maybe it was Sirius who was off. Either way Sirius couldn't explain it, but the way he felt about Moony just felt different,the way he loved Moony felt different to the way he loved James and Peter and he couldn't explain why.
YEAR 4
Febuary 19 1975
Remus was well and truly fucked. He accidently just ruined Sirius' most prized possesion, he just soaked Sirius' Doc martens while trying to learn a stupid spell. Sirius was going to kill him, he was a dead man walking, Sirius was going to get out his wand and Avada kedav-
"Remus what the fuck are you doing?" Sirius asked in a shocked tone.
"I'm so so so so sorry Sirius it was an accident I swear I'll ask my mam to buy you a new pair-"
"We're wizards Moony, we can fix it." Sirius said laying a comforting hand on top of Remus' to assure him that his shoes weren't ruined.
Remus froze, the second his and sirius' skin touched he felt sparks fly
"Rwy'n dy garu di." Remus mumbled
"What?" Sirius laughed, "did you just speak welsh to me?"
"Oh yeah, That means sorry." Remus bluffed, he scratched the back of his neck.
"It's alright, look." Sirius waved his wand and the water off his shoes dried immediately, they looked brand new once more.
"You could stab me on purpose and i'd still forgive you moons."
"Moons?"
"Oh sorry, I don't know why I did that, just slipped out I guess." Sirius explained, "Well if you don't like Moons i'll just keep calling you Remu" he teased.
"Shove off Sirius."
"Jokes, jokes, Love you" Sirius said this platonically, platonically with a capital P, but how he wished he could say it the way he really meant it.
"Hate you too" Remus, unbeknownst to Sirius had already said 'I love you' and both boys knew what 'hate you too' meant, they weren't that oblivious.
YEAR 5
January 8th 1976
"Shit! Fuck!" Remus yelled, he was still in physical pain from the night before, but kicking his and his friends' belongings was a good way to ignore that and an even better way to ignore the burning whole in his heart, why was he so stupid!? why did he think Sirius actually cared for him the way he cared for Sirius? A million questions were in his head - mostly him blaming himself for almost killing Severus Snape, a greasy black haired boy in slytherin who he and his friends had been rivals with since they started Hogwarts. Even though Remus hated Sirius right now, he didn't really hate him, Remus didn't have it in him to hate Sirius, even if Sirius did just put so many people in danger. Remus would never admit it but he knew deep down he would come back around with time; lots of time.
While in the middle of Remus' (justified) trashing the dorm session he saw Sirius' doc martens in the mess and he couldn't quite bring himself to kick them to the side or throw them somewhere, so he left them.
When James and Peter returned hours later they weren't shocked to see that their room was a tip, what they were shocked to see was Sirius' doc martens in the same place as they were before, the only difference being that now Moony's brown converse were nowhere to be seen, neither was Moony. The two boys could've used the map to find their friend(s) but chose not to, knowing Remus needed time to debrief and wallow, and everyone needed time to forgive Sirius.
YEAR 6
September 23rd 1976
Remus and Sirius had not spoken since January 8th, Remus had almost forgiven him, although he had the feeling that he'd never be able to forgive him fully.
Sirius missed Remus, he felt awful for the prank, he just wanted his friend back, that's all he wanted. And while he knew he didn't deserve Remus' forgiveness, he wanted it, he so selfishly wanted it, everyone else had forgiven him, the maruaders and valkirie's we're all friends again, even Remus was happy to be with James and Peter, but Remus couldn't ignore the sutble longing looks in Sirius' eyes when they hung out as a four, and to be quite frank Remus didn't want to.
The group was out on the field, celebrating the new year at Hogwarts with ciders and Gin, even though Remus was happy to be back he couldn't help feel that something was missing, and to his dismay he knew just who this something was.
"Hi." Smiled Sirius weakly
"Hi" Remus replied, sounding slightly exaspherated
"I've really missed you Moons."
"I know, I do too, but you could've - I could've" Remus chokes out
"I know, I know and I am so so sorry and I know Sorry isn't enough but-"
Remus kisses him. Remus Lupin just kissed him, The Remus John Lupin in all his beautiful glory kissed Sirius.
"What was that for?" Sirius asked, sounding rather freaked out, but not negatively impacted by the kiss
"Needed to shut you up" Remus chuckles, then bumping him with his shoulders.
The pair then marinate in their silence, evaluating the situation, both of them feeling glad Remus kissed Sirius but the boys thinking it was just a friend thing, wishing the other would come to his senses.
"I knew you'd come back" Sirius whispers
"I'm still pissed off but I love you too much to not forgive you" Remus replies, in the same hushed tone.
In an attempt to lighten the mood Sirius gently kicks Remus' new? Converse with his same old black doc Martens
"Oi" Remus says softly
"They're new?" Sirius questions.
"My brown ones were threadbare mate" Remus chuckles
"I like the blue ones, they uh, they-"
"You prefer the brown ones" Remus states
"I prefer the brown ones" Sirius confirms
both boys start chuckling and the rest of the group feel a sort of pride and happiness for both boys.
YEAR 7
May 31st 1977
In the gryffindor boys dorms, during a quidditch match, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are in the middle of an intense, sweaty makeout session, it's sensual, loving and cautious. Sirius traces Remus' collarbone as Remus plants sloppy kisses on his neck, hoping to leave a mark
"My moonage daydream" Sirius says softly, hugging Remus
"Hey Pads?"
"Yes Moonykins?"
"I love you"
"I love you too"
That's when they realise they may have fucked up, they hear James and the rest of Gyffindor loudly celebrating the gryffindor win against Ravenclaw. Both boys mutter a string of curse words as they desperately try to move away from each other, however this attempt is futile as both boys end up tripping over their shoes, they start laughing and then hear James walk in
"WHAT ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH IS HAPPENING HERE!?" He exclaims loudly, causing both boys to erupt into a fit of laughter.
years pass with nothing incredibly eventful happening, James and Lily get married and have their son, Harry, before both realising that maybe they rushed into things, causing James to date Regulus, (much to Sirius' disapproval, when telling him James really wished he wasn't in the room) and Lily starts dating her friend Mary. Peter starts dating Sybil Trewlaney, the pair are practically perfect for each other. Remus and Sirius move in together, they live in a secluded cottage in the woods, spending their full moons in the nearby forest and their mornings in bed, tangled in the sheets, delicate touches telling the other, "I'm still here". Sirius doesn't work, he claims it's "Not right for him to have to get his hands messy" However Remus does, Remus teaches Defence against the Dark arts at hogwarts, (When Harry found out his uncle Moony would be teaching him he was thrilled)
14 years later, Remus walks through his and Sirius' front door, hanging his long coat up and haphazardly throwing the shoes that he thought resembled the ones Sirius used to wear during their first few years of Hogwarts on the ground somewhere - where was a problem for tomorrow.
"Is that my Moonage Daydream?" Sirius teasingly coo's
"Shut up Pads." Remus tries to repress a smile at the nickname he pretended to hate, it's a good thing Sirius wasn't in the room otherwise he'd never hear the end of it. "What room you in?" Remus calls out, his Welsh accent coming through slightly, it always did when he was tired.
Sirius grinned at hearing his love's welsh accent, it was one of the plethora of things Sirius loved about his Moony
"Our room Sweets" Sirius softly replied.
Remus mumbles in a sort of "Coming now way", as he groggily drags himself up the stairs, needing nothing more than to lie in his lovers arms, as he walks up the narrow staircase, ducking slightly at the stairway entrance (Remus' height always made it particularly annoying to fit through old buildings, Damn those short people from the 19th century). But as he walked up the stairs he was greeted with his second favourite sight (After Sirius of course), his tatty brown converse and Sirius' pristine doc martens.
