#I am very tired today forgive my sloppiness. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

achaotichuman · 3 months

Note

Do you think you could write about dehlia in this context: https://www.tumblr.com/praetorqueenreyna/737196004108058624?source=share, hopefully featuring deadbeat at first mom feyre, horrified stepdad rhysand, tired of it all tamlin and a supportive lucien/eris.

This has been sitting, marinating in my drafts. But it is finally complete. I am fully aware I fucked up the timeline here, but I'm not rewriting all of this, so we're gonna pretend that fancy Fae tests can reveal a pregnancy at four weeks instead of eight like the post said.

And disclaimer before anyone calls for my head, for this fic I am also rewriting Ianthe's character, because she is too interesting for me to just write off as a sex offender and never think about again. Also, it is very interesting to see her as a genuinely morally grey person with good intentions. So, in this fic, she never SAs Lucien, but she does get a cool plot twist so stay tuned for that.

Basically, I have turned this into a rewrite of Acomaf and Acowar. A lot of the events were written from pure memory, and asking Tumblr, so forgive me if some scenes from the OG series were left out or written significantly differently. We mostly got Feyre's version of events anyway, so I'm not too worried.

This will be split into several chapters. Three being for the Mist and Fury rewrite, and then two for the Wings and Ruin rewrite. And if I have time, I'll do an Acofas rewrite. I'll be uploading all three of the Mist and Fury chapters today, and linking them in this post. You can also find it on SquidgeWorld here, and Ao3 here.

Anyway, here is the long-awaited fic, anon. And @r-biter, thank you for the original post, I hope I do it justice. Also @praetorqueenreyna who reblogged the original post.

Also, did I turn this into a Tamcien fic? Yes, of course I did.

______________________________________________________________

A Field of Dahlias

“Are you alright with this?” He asked, it may have been the hundredth time he asked, Feyre gave him the same exasperated eyes she had given him all night long.

Everything pointed to her being more than alright with this. Him pressed into the sheets below her, their clothes forgotten on the floor, her eyes glazed with lust. The rush of new hormones in her head no doubt fuelled the arousal that was now pressed against his wet slit. She leaned down, teeth a touch sharper than normal. She kissed his neck, dragging her canines along his fluttering pulse like he would for her.

She ran her now larger hands down his slightly smaller than normal frame. Hands finding his breasts and squeezing relentlessly, pinching his nipples, her rough fingers, calloused from years of work from before she had been turned fae. Tamlin bit down on his lip, not wanting the whimper that pressed against his vocal cords to be released. A part of him still didn’t understand the switch in the power dynamic and begged to flip her over, to shift them both back to normal and continue this the way he knew well.

But he didn’t, he remained underneath Feyre. Her chest flatter, set a touch wider, her shoulders broader. Her hips, now more narrow, rocked forward ever so slightly, as if on their own accord, as if her body was begging to bury the length now resting between her legs into the tight warmth before her.

“I’m fine, more than fine, like I’ve said a hundred times already.” She added an eye roll to the last part, Tamlin countered it with his own.

“Fine, but if you want to stop at anytime-”

“Are you okay with this, Tam?” She asked, hands becoming more gentle, roaming his skin like she loved it, like she cared.

It was still new, the loving and the caring, the likes of which Tamlin hadn’t felt in years.

“I’m okay.” Tamlin said, forcing his voice to remain steady. He loosened a breath, then spread his thighs wider.

“Well?” He asked, adding a grin to his words, “Lets see how sloppy your form is, wicked creature.”

Feyre gave him her own wild grin, eyes filled with that lust and love. Something caring and devoted in her face, she leaned down and put her face into the crook of his neck, licking at the skin in a careful, deliberate manner.

“Let’s see how well you hold up, Faerie Lord.”

***

Tamlin shuffled a few papers on his desk. Briefly glancing over all of them before sorting them into piles and picking up the one closest to his left. With nimble fingers he paged them apart and began to read each complaint. A sigh escaping his throat.

He tried to ease the worry sitting low in his belly but it wouldn’t relent, as the pile of complaints grew higher, the headache pounding behind his eyes tightened.

After he was done reading the letters, he moved to open a drawer in his desk. Then the feeling of his stomach lurching overwhelmed his senses. Nausea made his legs shake, he retched, then quickly slapped his palm over his mouth before winnowing to the nearby bathroom.

He had all of about three seconds before he was bent over the toilet, vomiting until he was shaking so badly he could barely stand on his knees. He dry heaved for a minute before finally his body relented and he slumped back, panting heavily, beats of sweat gathering on his forehead.

“Gods dammit.” He cursed, forcing himself to his feet and quickly cleaning up.

As he rinsed out his mouth, a pain shot up his spine and the sickness returned with a festering wrath. Tamlin groaned, a low sound from the back of his throat, he gripped the sides of the sink.

***

It didn’t relent, the sickness came and went throughout the days. Tamlin thought he could handle it. Thought he could make it through the seemingly endless hours without anyone knowing something was amiss.

“Two of you will head for the south border and I will send another group towards-” Tamlin was cut off by bile rising quickly in his throat, burning him from the inside out. He couldn’t get another word out before he sprinted back inside. Leaving five very confused sentries outside.

He rushed past several servants, all of which stopped to stare in concern. Tamlin ignored all of them.

It was Alis that didn’t stare. Rather broke into a sprint after him. The Summer Faery found Tamlin practically doubled over while he emptied the contents of his stomach. Alis snapped in a gasp, then quickly ran over to pull back his hair, sticking to his face from sweat.

“Tam…” She murmured.

Tamlin could barely see, the world tipping from one side to the other.

“Why are you staring?” Alis shouted at somebody, or somebodies at the door. Tamlin had enough sense to look back over his shoulder. He saw several servants who were loitering at the door, wondering what exactly was happening.

“Leave this instant, go back to your duties.” She shouted, then quickly slammed the door, everyone scattered as quickly as possible.

Tamlin panted as he sat back on his heels, tilting his head to the ceiling, “Gods.”

“Tamlin, are you alright?” Alis asked, helping him onto his shaking feet. He wanted to shove away from her and insist he was fine, but he was still getting his bearings back and the world was too bright, and he had a headache.

She led him to the sink and coaxed him into washing up. Tamlin splashed his face with ice water, and rinsed out his mouth. Then he looked up to see the mirror.

Gods, he hadn’t realised how little sleep he had been getting until he saw the deep purple under his eyes. The gauntness in them, along with his too pale face, made him resemble something of a ghost.

“I…”

“Tam.” She murmured. Putting a hand to his forehead, the rough bark of her hands rubbing against the soft skin. She furrowed her eyebrows, “You don’t have a temperature.

“I’m fine, Alis.” He said.

She breathed in deeply, face carefully controlled, “You need to see a healer. I will call for one-”

She turned to leave, but Tamlin took hold of her wrist. The light shining from Faelights in the bathroom too bright, he was so tired.

��I don’t need a healer, Alis. It’s nothing.” He told her. Ignoring the image of himself in the mirror, ignoring that fact he knew very well that he did not look fine.

Still Alis wouldn’t go against his orders. She sighed, shoulders slumping slightly, her eyes cast downwards, “Just… fine then. Just please see one if this gets worse.”

Tamlin bit down on the inside of his cheek, but nodded all the same.

***

It got worse, and there wasn’t anything he could do to hide it from anybody too close.

So he locked himself in his study or his room, and tried to focus on anything else. Anything other than the constant headache pounding behind his eyes. The never-ending wish to lay in his bed and sleep until his days ended, and the constant vomiting.

It didn’t relent, instead it worsened.

Alis found him again. In the bathroom in his room. When she spotted his hair, dirty and tangled, eye bags even darker and skin paler than ever. She narrowed her eyes, but quickly tied back his hair. Once he was done, she told him, “We’re getting a healer.”

Tamlin wanted to protest again, but he was so tired. So he said nothing, instead he slumped against the nearest wall and closed his eyes.

Why was this happening? Now of all times, when he needed to be alert for his Court. For the people who were still recovering.

“It’s just stress.” Tamlin told Alis as she put a dampened cloth to his forehead.

“I would still like for you to see a healer.”

‘I don’t believe a word you say’, is what that meant. Tamlin chuckled, but the sound was hollow.

“Alis, I-”

“Hush now, child.” She murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face as she sat down beside him, “I’ll call a healer, we will figure out what is happening.”

It felt too familiar. Like the days spent in his childhood when he and Alis would sit on the ground in the gardens, whilst she sang him songs in a language he didn’t know at the time. A language she had taught him, so he could sing with her.

It was too nostalgic. He didn’t deserve to feel that love again. That deep rooted, innocent love, it belonged to the child that hadn’t been stained by the world.

It belonged to the kid that hadn’t been ruined in every sense of the word.

Alis didn’t seem to care in the slightest. She took in her hands three strands of blond hair and began to weave a braid.

“It’ll be okay.” She assured him.

Tamlin scoffed, he felt her fingers pause in his hair, so he mumbled, “Nothing seems okay now.”

Alis tilted her head slightly, to see his eyes better. Her brown irises rose to meet his green ones. Alis reached out, her rough fingertips caressing the side of his face ever so softly.

“It will.” She whispered, “It will get better, Tam.”

***

The healer that he saw was named Heilda, she was a short sweet-faced lesser Fae with fluttering mosaic wings and short near white curly hair. Her eyes were all black and her teeth were sharpened. Tamlin was sitting in her office, in a small cottage in the middle of one of the busiest villages, close to the Manor. One of his hands rubbed his temple while the other tapped his leg.

Lucien had dropped him off at Heilda’s residence before leaving to inform Alis he had indeed gone to the healer and not run off. Tamlin had then insisted he didn’t need to, but the headache came back, and Tamlin was powerless to stop the determined redhead.

“How long has the vomiting been happening?” Heilda asked.

The High lord bit the inside of his cheek, quickly thinking back on the past few months since they left the Mountain, “Give or take a month and a half.”

She quickly jotted that down in a leatherback notebook in her hands, then asked, “I’ve also been told you’ve been experiencing severe headaches? How long has that been happening?”

Tamlin shrugged, “I’ve had them all my life, just recently they’re occurring more and more.”

Heilda nodded as she jot notes down in her leather book, before turning to a variety of medicinal herbs and bottles of strangely coloured liquids.

She rifled through a few before taking a mortar and pestle and began to grind a mixture of dried plants and herbs, asking questions as she did.

“Have there been any recent changes in diet?”

“No,” Unless Alis was slowly poisoning him, but he didn’t think her the killer type.

“Drinking water regularly?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been sleeping properly?”

Tamlin almost answered yes, then he remembered the nightmares that riddled his sleep, “...No.”

“Alright, that could be one cause, but from the extent of your headaches I’m inclined to believe there could be something else.” She took the herbal mixture and went to a fireplace where a small cauldron bubbled incessantly, “I’d like to run a few tests, my Lord.”

“Whatever you need to do.” He said.

She took a blood and urinary sample. Tamlin waited for what felt like hours as she put them through several tests, mostly mixing strange things together and watching what happened. Occasionally noting reactions. Tamlin was bored out of his wits, staring at the ceiling, Heilda had given him some strange purple tea, it eased the pressure in his head and the nausea in his stomach, thankfully.

There was a light rapping on the door, followed by a very familiar voice, “Lady Heilda, I was sent by Alis.”

“Come in, Lord Lucien.” Was all Heilda said, not looking up from her work.

Lucien opened the door, his eyes immediately drawn to Tamlin and the drink in his hand. He nodded to it, a silent question, Tamlin just shrugged and jutted his head in the direction of Heilda.

Lucien sat down in a chair beside Tamlin, “How are you doing?”

“Better since drinking this thing.” He said, showing Lucien the painted mug. Lucien nodded.

“What's happening now?” He asked.

“Heilda’s running tests, hopefully we’ll know what’s causing the nausea, we can fix it, then be on our merry way.” Tamlin said, drinking the last of the strange tea.

That was when Heilda clicked her tongue, “I don’t believe this is a problem we can simply fix, my Lord.”

She spun around in her chair, “I believe this problem will be a bit bigger than originally considered.”

Lucien and Tamlin furrowed their brows, glancing at each other before eyeing the healer worriedly. It was Lucien who asked, “And what is the problem exactly?”

Heilda took in a breath, seemingly steeling herself, as if on instinct, Lucien took Tamlin’s hand in his own. Holding him tightly.

“My Lord,” She said, addressing Tamlin, “Have you shapeshifted into a female form, sometime within the last five or six weeks?”

Tamlin was taken aback by the question, he blinked at her, hand tightening in Lucien’s, “I mean… yes, but I’ve done it before, I don’t know how it could cause any issues. Especially not…” He counted the weeks since that night with Feyre, “Six weeks later.”

Now Heilda snapped in a deep breath, “This may be an uncomfortable question, but did you have any penetrative intercourse whilst in female form?”

“You’re right, that is an uncomfortable question.” Tamlin said, blinking at the healer like she had grown a second head, “That shouldn’t have anything to do with my symptoms.”

“Just trust her, Tam.” Lucien said, squeezing his hand in an assuring manner.

“I just need a yes or no answer.” Heilda said gently.

Tamlin sighed deeply, eyes squeezing shut, “Yes. Feyre is a shapeshifter as well.”

Heilda nodded, then leaned back in her chair, “Did you use any contraceptives this night in question?”

Now Tamlin gritted his teeth, “What does this-”

“Tam.” Lucien said gently. Tamlin looked over at his friend and sighed.

“No, we did not.”

Heilda nodded, then she rubbed her hands together. Wringing out her fingers and cracking the knuckles as she crossed one leg over the other, “Okay. What I’m about to say may be shocking.”

“Just spit it out.” Tamlin said, finally and fully fed up with these riddles and strange questions.

“Alright,” Heilda looked between Lucien and Tamlin, Lucien tightened his grip on Tamlin’s hand.

“Congratulations, Lord Tamlin Fairburn, you are pregnant.”

One heartbeat, then a dozen. Tamlin stared at Heilda like she had two heads and a tail. Lucien had gone completely white, the fire lord looked as though he was about to pass out.

Heilda looked between the two, she smiled, then clapped her hands as she wheeled her chair away, “This is what happens when you don’t take contraceptives.”

Tamlin laughed, he laughed hard, nearly falling off his chair. He gripped Lucien’s hand so tightly he could feel his bones grinding under his fingers, Lucien didn’t pull away regardless. The Fox remained silent whilst Tamlin fell into hysterics.

“No!” Tamlin said, pushing himself back into his chair, “No, no, no. I am not- I am not at all. That is wrong!”

Anger now pressed through the hysteria. Heilda sighed like she expected this reaction, turning around she looked over at Tamlin, “Listen, you were in a female form and you-”

“I am not now aren’t I?!” He shouted, standing up from his chair. His sudden motion snapped Lucien from his daze. He quickly stood up and wrapped an arm around Tamlin’s chest. He made to wrap his free arm around his stomach, but suddenly didn’t. When Tamlin looked at him the Fox was breathing deliberately slowly, staring at his abdomen with an unreadable expression.

It only served to piss Tamlin off even more. Heilda, unlike the two before her, stayed calm, her voice soft and gentle when she replied, “No, but you can still retain a womb in this form if your magic allows it.”

“I shifted back the morning after!” Tamlin shouted, “This should’ve never happened! You are wrong!”

“I’m not, and I think you know I’m not. Spring thrives off of fertility magic, your magic protected the foetus growing in your womb.” Heilda replied. So casual as if this happened every other day.

Tamlin stammered and stuttered, trying to figure out someway around this. Some loophole or information that would directly challenge this. Like if he wished hard enough he could prove her wrong. Like if he managed to get angry enough, he could make this go away. Tamlin eventually looked to the floor. Beginning to process the information for what it was. For exactly what it meant.

“I recommend shifting back into the form of a female, it will make this more comfortable.” Heilda said, her voice still so gentle. It stopped making him angrier, and as the initial shock and denial wore off, the world began to tip from one side to the other. Lucien held him up. The red-head’s fingers intertwined with Tamlin’s.

“Is there anything else, Heilda?” Lucien asked, his voice a soft murmur behind Tamlin, yet a dull vibration in the face of the ringing in his ears growing with each passing second.

“Bring him back for some more tests once he’s processed this.” Was all Heilda said. Tamlin was caught between wanting to wake up from this as if it were a dream and wanting to rip her throat out for being so casual about this.

Only Lucien murmured his thanks. Tamlin considered cursing out the healer, but his sudden lack of energy made that impossible.

In the future he would thank Heilda for being so calm, for now, he hated her for it.

Lucien and Tamlin were silent as they left the healer’s office. Lucien kept his hand on Tamlin’s, gently leading the way as Tamlin was still reeling. Barely thinking, he couldn’t hear much besides some of Lucien's gentle murmurs and promises that they would figure it out.

But as Lucien made to winnow them he suddenly stopped, eyes wide, face pale, hands shaking. Tamlin furrowed his brow whispering, “What?”

“Can-Can I winnow you? That won’t hurt…” Lucien bit his lip as he made a quick gesture to Tamlin’s belly.

Tamlin snarled, his fangs a flash of white. He ripped his hand away from Lucien’s and marched in the general direction of Rosehall.

“Tamlin!” Lucien called out, quick to follow him, “Tamlin you can’t just storm off!”

“Watch me!” Tamlin turned around and screamed at him. Lucien stopped dead in his tracks, his nose scrunched as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“Don’t scream at me, I’m only trying to help!” Lucien told him.

“I don’t need your help, Lucien! I don’t need you!” It was a dirty lie, because Tamlin needed Lucien more than air. Especially now. He felt his legs shaking, he wanted to fall to the ground. He wanted to sleep for a thousand years. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and rage and throw things. He wanted to get angry. He wanted to go back to this morning when this didn’t exist to him.

Tamlin didn’t wait to see Lucien’s reaction to his venomous words, he turned around and continued to storm away.

He didn’t get far. Lucien appeared behind him and picked him up. Holding him in bridal carry. Tamlin yelled and thrashed, spitting curses at him, some of which he had forgotten he even knew.

“Put me down!” His voice was drawing attention from passersby, but Lucien didn’t put him down, just waited.

“Lucien fucking Vanserra let go of me!”

“Stop being a dickhead and I will.”

“You-”

“Tamlin.” Lucien warned. The tiniest hint of a growl in his voice, something about the way he said it made Tamlin stop squirming. The glare of death in the High lord’s eyes never left but he gritted his teeth and stopped moving.

“Good.” Lucien said, putting him back on the ground, but keeping two hands on his shoulders.

“Tamlin, we need to deal with this.” Lucien said, his eyes hard, his face unforgiving.

“I know-”

“No, you will try and ignore this until you are physically unable to any longer, and then we will be unprepared. You and I are going to talk about this, and form a game plan.”

Tamlin’s eye twitched, “Then can you wait until we get back to Rosehall?”

“We will walk back.” Lucien said as he let go of Tamlin and plucked a paper and pen from the space between realms. The red-head scribbled something down before sending it off. Tamlin knew it would be something to Alis to say they would be returning later than expected.

Tamlin’s hands once again curled into fists. He took in a deep breath, “I have shapeshifted, a little magic will not hurt.”

Lucien’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath, “We don’t know that Tam.”

Tamlin laughed quietly, at what he didn’t know. The world was going so fast, at the same time it came to a complete halt.

“What the fuck are we going to do?” Tamlin asked quietly.

Tamlin stared at nothing, vision slowing like a haze was settling over his bones, a dark mist that made everything seem so far away.

“Hey.” Lucien murmured, taking the High lord’s hands in his, “We’ll figure it out.”

They walked. Over the rocky cobblestone paths and through the blooming gardens abounding through Spring, the smell of pollen wafted through the air, mixing with the scents of sweetened coffee and baked goods. The sun was speckled over the ground by the constant clouds passing overhead. Gentle breezes caressed the delicate petals of roses, lilacs and lilies.

Tamlin resolutely stared at the ground ahead, each footstep deliberate and careful. He could feel whenever Lucien’s watchful eyes flicked to him. The High lord wrapped his arms around himself, releasing Lucien's hand, and made sure to not so much as flick his gaze to his emissary.

Eventually it felt like Lucien got the message and looked ahead as well, the clicking of his eye never directed in Tamlin’s direction. Finally Tamlin looked at him, to see Lucien with his head held high and facing straight ahead. His red hair a banner behind him in the breeze. His stride never faltering.

Tamlin felt like a newborn foal next to him, not so graceful and elegant, more clumsy and foolish.

Then a sound filled his ears, one that made him stop dead in his tracks. Tamlin quickly snapped his gaze to his left, looking across a nearby field, filled with a plush blanket of white, purples, pinks and reds, there he saw a gaggle of children. Some lesser Fae, others High Fae. All blowing on dandelion fluff and laughing until they fell to the ground. Two boys with purple skin and big black eyes, chased each other with worms on sticks. A girl with delicate fluttering wings carefully placed a flower crown on a girl with pointed ears, freckles and ginger hair.

Another two girls threw mud onto each other, ruining the delicate lace of their baby blue dresses. And one boy, much smaller than the rest, with wispy brown hair laughed until he fell onto his back.

“Tam?” Tamlin didn’t look at Lucien as his eyes were captivated by the children of his Court playing without a care in the world.

One hand scrunched in the fabric of his trousers, strands of blond hair were picked up by the wind, fluttering over and around his face.

Lucien walked back to stand beside Tamlin as he saw what had halted him. The Fox of Prythian reached his hand out and wrapped Tamlin’s in it.

“It’ll be okay Tam.” He whispered.

“Dahlias.” Tamlin rasped, voice breathy and shaking.

Lucien hummed in confusion and Tamlin pointed to the field, “The field its… the flowers are all dahlias.”

A heartbeat of silence passed them by, floating along like a butterfly on the wind, Lucien squeezed his hand ever so slightly, “A field of dahlias.”

***

The rest of the walk home was less exciting. Mostly Tamlin stayed caught in silence whilst Lucien broached the harder topics that would later need more discussion. The complications of having an Heir of not just Spring, but of the Cursebreaker, so quickly after Amarantha’s reign had come to a completion. Even Feyre was not completely settled into her new body as a High Fae, and certainly not settled into her new role at Court.

Tamlin wouldn’t dream of putting a singular extra duty on her shoulders that she didn’t need to have to stress about so soon after all had been said and done. But he had to admit they needed more publicity, something for the rest of Prythian to see that Feyre Archeron was the Lady of Spring, the saviour of the Mountain, and the Warrior who sent Amarantha to her grave.

He didn’t want her to be a show pony, only to be paraded to see her achievements. She had said it herself on a number of times that she wanted a quiet life. But if a baby was now on the way-

No, not thinking about that.

He didn’t want to think about ‘it’ , he wanted to think about how to get Feyre properly settled. Then how to stabilise the Court, and regain what had been stolen and lost to Amarantha. He needed to focus on the Court right now.

The sight of Rosehall came into view and Tamlin felt a heavy weight settle over his shoulders, he spoke to Lucien while his eyes examined every detail of his home. “Organise dinners, celebrations, prepare for the upcoming holidays. Pay special attention to the farmers, whatever they need, send it to them. The doors of Rosehall are completely open to the public and any that come in seeking refuge from other Courts. And Lucien.”

Tamlin stopped and Lucien halted as well, his brown eyes meeting green, “Make preparations for the tithe, we need to get it back up and running. We are barely holding on as it is, with everything Amarantha has done we cannot afford the losses that have hit us.”

Lucien nodded, Tamlin went on, “Most of the money and jewels from the treasury were stolen and until we send people back under the mountain to retrieve what they can we are on a tight budget. Every coin goes straight into the refugees, the farmers and the villages that have lost their homes.”

“Of course, but Tamlin-”

“The people are in low spirits and the magic will sense that. Spring thrives off of fertility and celebration from the Fae. I haven't even seen the wisps since before we went under the mountain. Until the native creatures of the land return we are in emergency mode. I want a list of everyone we lost to Amarantha, I need a spreadsheet of the damages and the costs necessary to return everything to its former glory, until we are back to normal we will not rest-”

“Tamlin Kali Fairburn!” Lucien eventually yelled.

Tamlin blinked, then he blinked again. Lucien gritted his teeth, the light hitting the emissary in just the right way that his skin seemed to glow with his frustration, “You are stressing yourself out for no reason.”

Tamlin gawked at that, “There is a reason, our Court is still half in ruins-”

The fire lord marched forward and put his hands on his shoulders, “And I will help you to restore it. But you cannot try and handle everything yourself.”

“I am not trying to do everything myself-”

“You are thinking of everything at once, when you need to calm down.” Lucien’s head fell, he took several deep breaths, “Listen, Tam. Like it or not we… you are now responsible for another life.”

Tamlin bristled at that, fangs starting to point through his teeth. Claws pressed against his skin, threatening to burst through.

“Tamlin.” Lucien said slowly, “I know you don’t want to think about this, but that doesn’t change the fact that Spring is…” Lucien took another steadying breath, like he was falling apart at the news himself, “Spring is having an Heir.”

There were the words that crushed Tamlin even more. This… it wouldn’t be just another baby, but an Heir of Spring, a possible successor. A potential future ruler of the Spring Court.

They had no choice but to think about this.

“We will take this one step at a time.” Lucien moved his hands down to clasp his friends, thumbs rubbing the backs of his palms.

Tamlin stared down at the dark fingers massaging gentle circles into his skin. He closed his eyes, the headache pounding harder. He was so fucking tired.

“This is awful.” Tamlin whispered into the space between them.

“I know Tam.” Lucien murmured, his voice near drowned out by the sounds of laughter in the distance.

He felt like he might collapse. A headache pushed into his temple. He noticed a flicker of movement, and then saw that it was in fact a butterfly, small and blue and clueless. Making laps around their heads.

“It’ll be okay.” Lucien reassured him. It was false, they had no idea if it would be okay.

***

It was not okay.

It was absolutely not okay.

He had a headache all the time and sleep became a luxury he apparently could not afford. All of a sudden complaints pushed from all sides as bandits began to infiltrate the Southern and Western borders. Seeing quick money and easy blood to draw.

Many of the servants and sentries had left the grounds for other Courts in order to visit family after the Curse’s conclusion. With quickly hired, inexperienced staff, the grounds began to descend into chaos.

Not to mention how everyone was coping. That being barely.

Nowadays even into the dark hours of the morning, every hall was lit and not a single room didn’t have some form of a faelight and an open window. No one wished to be forced back into darkness, and everyone needed the reassurance of open, blowing air.

The second Tamlin had stepped foot back into his office he was thrown back into work. Now, days didn’t end until he was near passing out from exhaustion and they started the second the ray of first light hit his face.

He wasn’t the only one. Lucien he barely saw anymore, as much as the Fox of Prythian attempted to check on him, they both lost all sense of time. Unable to keep up with their workloads and desperately attempting to pull the Court back into order.

With everything going on, Tamlin had yet to tell anyone about… it.

Alis had tried to push for answers, but even with all her stubbornness, the female knew when she had to back off. The quick snappish answers and flare in temper were enough to tell her, it wasn’t time for her to ask what happened that day with the healer. But Tamlin could tell she was worried.

With everything happening. Tamlin had forgotten the last time he even so much as laid eyes on Feyre.

He was sure he saw her during the nights at some point, but as everything merged into a dazed blur of work, work, work, he couldn’t be sure.

That wasn’t even including the constant strain from symptoms.

Vomiting, and headaches were just the start of it. At times he could barely keep his eyes open even after hours of sleep. If he stood too quickly, all blood rushed from his head and black spots filled his vision. Random outbursts became more prevalent, everything setting him on edge.

"Dear Gods," He cursed, rubbing his temples. Elbows planted on his desk. Tamlin screwed his eyes shut as yet another wave of throbbing crashed over him.

There was a light rapping at his door. Tamlin didn't need to look up as the door opened to know who it was. The scent of cinnamon spice was enough telling.

"Tam." Lucien said tenderly.

Without opening his eyes, Tamlin said, "Lucien Vanserra, if the next words out of your mouth aren't, here is a giant cookie and hot chocolate, I will toss you over the border and back into Autumn."

There was a heartbeat of silence.

Tamlin wouldn't throw Lucien back into Autumn, Tamlin quite liked Lucien.

He would very possibly steal and hide all of his left shoes. Lucien was fully aware of that.

Lucien left the office, and when he returned, he opened the door saying, "Here is a giant cookie and hot chocolate."

Indeed, he was carrying a tray with a giant chocolate chip cookie and two mugs of steaming hot chocolate that made Tamlin's mouth water when he saw them.

Lucien is a smart man. Everyone should be like Lucien, Tamlin thought.

Setting the tray on the dark wood coffee table by the empty fireplace. Lucien sat down on the green velvet lounge.

Tamlin left his desk and joined him. Settling into the soft fabric and hands immediately reaching for said cookie. Lucien smiled softly as he took up his mug.

"Heilda said it would be more comfortable to shift to female form." Lucien said as he absentmindedly toyed with the handle. His voice was soft as he broached the subject, not wishing to provoke anger.

Tamlin bit into the cookie and nearly moaned.

To shift into a female form. To stay like that. It would raise eyebrows and suspicions. And good Gods, when he started to show-

No, not thinking about that.

"So?" Tamlin asked. He knew he had to listen, he had to take into account the possibility of having an Heir for the Court.

Gods, an Heir so soon. They just came out from Under the Mountain. It was all still fresh, too fresh. He could still see her eyes above him. Pushing him down into the sheets-

No.

Not thinking about it.

"So..." Lucien traced the rim of his cup with his finger, "Perhaps you should think about listening to her."

Tamlin's eyes snapped to Lucien's to find the fiery male staring right back. He lifted a perfectly groomed red eyebrow and waited for a response. One leg crossed over the other and head held high.

Lucien didn't back down for anyone, not Beron, not Amarantha, and certainly not Tamlin.

"Or perhaps I won't." I am a grown male, and I will make my own decisions, did not need to be said for Lucien to get the gist of it.

"She is the professional, Tam." He hummed.

"Don't call me that." Not now. Don't be gentle with me.

Lucien put the mug down on the table, it banged as his hands didn't bother to control his strength.

"Alright, this has gone on long enough." Lucien said, "We need to do something about all of this."

"What do you want to do exactly?" Tamlin snapped, temper flaring.

"Gods above." Lucien rubbed his temples and Tamlin wanted to throw something.

"Come up with a goddamn game plan, Tamlin. I want to know what the next moves should be. I mean, have you even told Feyre?" Lucien bounced his knee up and down. Tamlin thought that at any moment he might get up and start pacing.

"Well I- there isn't anything that can be done Lucien!" Tamlin shouted, finally beginning to snap. He hated this. He wanted to be done with it.

And he hadn't told Feyre. He didn't want to. He didn't want to talk about it.

Like if he refused to so much as think about it, it wouldn't exist.

Lucien opened his mouth, eyes blazing and preparing to yell. Then he cut himself short and snapped his mouth shut. Face falling back into carefully crafted blankness and eyes losing any emotions at all.

Tamlin's claws nearly shot through his hands. Fire blazing through him, not just because of the subject at hand, but because of how easily Lucien put his mask on. Hiding his true thoughts so well.

Tamlin wished for the courtier mask, but no matter how hard he tried there was nothing he could do to hide himself.

Fuck this all.

"You need to tell Feyre," Lucien said, crossing his arms. Relaxing back into the lounge, as nonchalant as ever. Tamlin hated it.

"I don't need to do anything." Tamlin hissed.

Lucien chuckled and claws finally pierced to the surface. He dug them into pillow beneath them, slowly counting back from ten.

"What is so funny?"

Lucien picked up his mug again as he shook his head, "Sure you don't need to do anything Tam."

"Get out!" Tamlin shouted.

Lucien rolled his eyes, he put his mug down and slid off the lounge gracefully. A swagger in his step as he left the room, as he passed through the threshold his hand caught the door. He tossed a seething smile over his shoulder and said, "Figure it out on your own then, but figure it out, Tam."

Lucien slammed the door shut before Tamlin could yell at him.

***

Feyre wasn't happy. She didn't know when she started feeling this way, when the total weight of how she felt finally settled into her bones. Like mist in the morning, it descended slowly until she was consumed by it.

She couldn't look the Fae around her in the eyes anymore. Not without seeing the Faeries she had stabbed. The boy's screams filled her eyes at every ring of a bell or snap of a tree branch.

And dear God, the girl who had prayed before she had ended her life. The words seemed carved into her skin, she heard them in the laughter and song of the Priestesses that came in groups for lunch after long days working in the Temple. Every time those swishing robes passed her by, she remembered that prayer.

One of the Priestesses had taken a special interest in her. One of the twelve High Priestesses. Feyre knew little of how religion worked in the Fae Lands. The idea of Gods and such had never interested her. She had worked for too long back in the cabin to spend her time thinking of them.

And if they did exist certainly the Mother was laughing at her.

As of now, Feyre stared out at the gardens. She was sitting by a small table on the porch, watching dahlias sway in the wind. The grounds were covered in them, they had been a flower Elain had grown back at the cabin and then at the new manor they resided in now. One of the only plants Feyre could pin-point.

"I thought I might find you here." A voice said, breaking the silence. Feyre looked back over her shoulder and despite herself a small smile graced her lips.

"Good morning Ianthe, shouldn't you be at a ceremony or such?" Feyre asked.

Ianthe chuckled, her voice and sweet face reminded Feyre a little of Elain. But her overall demeanor and strange stoniness reminded her of Nesta.

"No, the girls are handling everything this morning. I have a break."

Ianthe strolled over to where Feyre was sitting. She pointed to the chair opposite of her and asked, "May I?"

"Please." Feyre said.

Ianthe gracefully slid into the seat, crossing one leg over the other. She did not wear her robes this morning. Her body still completely covered. However, the layers of her dark blue dress were lighter to account for the warmer weather this morning. A pale blue silk scarf covered her head so only a few curling blonde hairs fell around her face.

"Did it hurt? The tattoo I mean." Feyre eventually asked. The tattoo of the phases of the moon, they interested Feyre. Whilst she now had a swirling tattoo along her arm, that one had been stained magically.

Violet cruel eyes. Taunting hands and a laughing voice.

No. Not thinking about him.

Ianthe watched the swaying gardens as she answered. Her face was not cold, but it wasn't warm either. Like a stoic mother, Feyre thought.

"Yes, but it was worth it to be given this honour." Ianthe answered.

Feyre hummed, "Did you always want to be a High Priestess?"

Ianthe chuckled, finger tracing her knee, "My, my, many questions this morning."

The Archeron sister stiffened for a moment, "You don't need to answer if it makes uncom-"

Ianthe lifted a slender hand, she turned her full eyes back to Feyre and smiled, "I am teasing Feyre."

"Oh."

"As for your question, I always knew I wanted to be part of the Court. I worked well with the others. And I knew I could help this Court, the way the former High lord ruled he..."

Ianthe cut herself off as a darkness filled her eyes. Her mouth twisted into a straight line. Feyre furrowed her brow, concern beginning to creep in, "He...?"

Ianthe quickly shook her head and straightened, pulling herself from her thoughts, "He just... He wasn't a good male and I knew I could do something to help. As for becoming a High Priestess specifically I-"

Now a soft smile adorned her face as she lifted her eyes to the white sun's rays.

"I have always had an affinity for the Mother and her creation."

Feyre turned her own eyes back to the dahlia flowers. Blooming prettily as if not just months before the Spring Court had been ravaged and left in ruins.

"The world is going back to normal." Feyre noted.

Ianthe laughed suddenly, and Feyre snapped her eyes back to her.

The High Priestess shook her head and murmured, "Nothing will ever be normal again."

"You weren't even here for the fifty years," Feyre pointed out, recalling what Lucien had told her before. How Ianthe's father had sent her and her sisters to the continent right as the curse was hitting.

At her words Ianthe balled her dress up into her fists, "You don't know my story."

"Then tell me." I will listen, Feyre wanted to say.

Out of the corner of her eyes, Ianthe watched her. Blue eyes like sapphires in the light, "You won't understand."

"Try me."

A shake of her head and an amused smile, "Count the blessings you have flower, appreciate them. For at any moment, they can all be taken."

Feyre blinked. Then her face fell into deadpan.

What was it with Fae and their riddles?

Ianthe threw her head back as she laughed at Feyre's confusion, "Flower just know not to take the word of Faeries at face value."

Ianthe leaned back into her chair and Feyre asked, "Can you guys just... tell me what you mean?"

A sly smile and glinted eyes, "Now where's the fun in that?"

***

She hated her reflection. She stood in front of the mirror as Ianthe carefully placed a crown of daisies and dahlias in her hair.

"Why dahlias?" Feyre had asked.

Ianthe had shrugged, "You seemed to like them."

They had gone through enough dresses to last Feyre a lifetime. She had never liked dresses and today did not change that. She longed for something she could move in. Felt like restricted in. But she sucked it up.

Ianthe had brought in a myriad of different dresses for her to try. To find one she liked best.

"Do they all have to be so..." Feyre had gestured to large puffy sleeve and Ianthe had snickered.

"For the record these were the former Lady of Spring's dresses."

Feyre had gone very, very still at that. Guilt shocking through her at how she hadn't liked the look of them.

Ianthe had then rolled her eyes, "Do not fret, child, the Lady hadn't particularly adored them either. But it is tradition to wear the dresses of the former Lady. This were the Lady of Spring's before hers, and before hers. Now they will be yours."

Ianthe had then reassured Feyre, "Just for today at least, then they'll go back into a bag and into the closet to sit for the next several centuries."

Feyre had laughed suddenly at that, and the knot of anxiety welling in her stomach had begun to ease.

Feyre had then rifled through the atrocious amount of fabrics. And eventually her hands landed on one particular dress. It was the biggest of them all, with an atrocious amount of tulle, lace and puffs. It was beautiful, Feyre could admit as much as that. But it was... so much.

Feyre had bit down on her lip, trying not to laugh. Then she had looked at Ianthe whose eye was twitching as she pursed her lips, desperately keeping her own laughter down.

They met each other's sights and were helpless but to fall into hysterics.

The dress had been laid on the bed, but Feyre had decided on a far simpler one. Long, green silk simple sleeves, and a high neckline that opened just above her cleavage. The corseted part of the dress was embroidered with gold designs and tightly hugged her waist. Her far too small waist. As Ianthe had tied the back her eyes flicked up to Feyre in the mirror, hands still on the strings.

Feyre had looked down, Ianthe continued and neither spoke of just how frail she had become. The High Priestess occasionally opened her mouth to say something, just to snap it closed. Ianthe didn't appear to know how to comfort, how to reassure. So, she didn't try.

Now the look was complete. Feyre watched herself in the mirror. The long green skirts of her dress swirled as she moved.

"There." Ianthe said. Feyre met her eyes in the mirror.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

Feyre didn't answer. She thought back on that day in the field when Tamlin had proposed to her, how happy she had been. How in so long the memories of Under the Mountain hadn't haunted her.

Yet after all was said and done, it all came back. All had asked to show them the ring and expected her to gush about the future wedding and her engagement. Yet all enthusiasm had drained from her. Like the second Tamlin was not directly in front of her she no longer felt that passion any longer.

It was just nerves. Nothing else. Once this day was said and done it would no longer bother her.

"Yes."

Ianthe nodded, her eyes firm and set on Feyre through the mirror. A heartbeat passed and Feyre said, "We best be going then."

As she moved to leave. Ianthe put her hands on Feyre's shoulders, "One moment, my Lady."

The Cursebreaker furrowed her brow but remained still. Ianthe didn't break eye contact as she swiftly pulled a necklace out from underneath her robes. It swung from her neck, a beautiful green emerald that shone in the light. It was small and hung from a golden chain.

Feyre blinked, opening her mouth to ask what was happening. But Ianthe answered her question, as she unclasped the necklace and swiftly placed it around Feyre's throat.

"Ianthe-" Feyre started.

"Take it, Cursebreaker." As she let it hang from Feyre's neck she murmured, "You may need it."

"Need it?" Feyre whispered.

Ianthe just smiled, "Trust me."

"You said yourself not to take the words of Fae at face value." Feyre countered.

"I did." She stated.

Before Feyre could once again point out the blatant hypocrisy, Ianthe said, "Try to see past the person, Feyre. Try and see what may lay underneath."

***

He hated his reflection. Standing in front of the mirror whilst Alis fixed his hair and jacket burned a flaming rage deep in his core, but there was little he could do. Other than stand still and allow the Summer Faery to do her work.

"You look very handsome." Alis smiled up at him as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork.

Tamlin tried to give her a smile back, but he could only manage a weak nod as he stared at himself.

Shell of a person. Eyes sunken from lack of sleep, skin unnervingly pale, gaunt, hollow.

At least the suit was well made, tailored, green with whites and golds. Alis had braided flowers through his hair and dusted his face with just the slightest of makeup, she told him it was for the look to come together perfectly. But he knew it was to coverup the deadness in his face.

The lesser faery opened and closed her mouth. Eyebrows furrowing. Tamlin nearly groaned.

"What is it, Alis?"

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked, brushing away a speck of lint from his shoulder. Tamlin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I am sure." He said, finally turning away from that godforsaken mirror. He faced the door of his bedroom. Lucien stood there. Dressed to the nines in green. Far more understated than Tamlin but just as gorgeous.

"Ready?" Lucien asked.

Tamlin shifted under his piercing gaze. The Fox scrutinized every inch of him, he was on display, wholly and completely.

"I'm fine." Tamlin settled to say. He wouldn't admit how he felt sick to his stomach and the fluttering of anxiety was threatening to send running to bathroom to throw up once again.

He held strong. He wouldn't be made weak. No matter how weak he truly felt.

Lucien didn't believe that for a second. But he said nothing as he moved from the doorway and said, "Well then, the wedding is on in less than five minutes."

Feyre hesitated from her place at the end of the aisle.

Her eyes agitated, hands shaking. Tamlin held his breath. She looked beautiful, but Feyre was always beautiful. A ring of flowers adorned her head, her eyes held the wedding venue before her.

Ianthe was the one she watched; Tamlin risked a glance at the Priestess who watched Feyre closely. Slowly she raised a hand, and with a soft voice beckoned, "Come, Lady of Spring."

Feyre loosened a breath, her chest rising and falling with measured, calculated breaths. She took a step forward and Tamlin's chest constricted. He sucked in a breath, and she took another step forward. The knot pulled tighter and tighter.

He remembered when she had been dragged in by Attor. Tossed to Amarantha's feet.

Panic had filled him. He had nearly fainted. Surely, she wasn't there, because he had sent her back. She was back in the human lands there was no possible way for her to have come Under the Mountain.

Yet there she had been.

The image faded in and out. Shifting from Feyre's perfect, unmarked face to the bruised snarling face she had worn that day so many months ago.

She took a step forward.

He was going to throw up.

Then she took a step back.

For a second, for a fleeting moment, the knot in his chest loosened and he felt like he could breathe again.

Then she took another step back. The knot tightened once more.

Eyes widened, and whispers erupted in the crowd of Fae.

Fuck.

No.

Like a rope pulled him forward, Tamlin took a step towards Feyre. The world slowed to one moment in time. She stumbled further back, shaking her head. And Tamlin stepped further into the aisle.

Something snapped in her gaze. She turned on her heel and sprinted.

There was a gasp, and hot white rage flew through the High lord. Filling his veins, breaking something that had been pulled taut for too long now.

He nearly launched into a run after her.

"Tamlin." Lucien hissed, as he lept forward and pulled Tamlin back.

Tamlin turned around to snarl at him, but in a second they were gone. Winnowed.

Tamlin shouted into the darkness that enveloped them. And by the time they landed he was screaming curses at the red head. Lucien didn't seem to care.

They were in his study. The window were open and sunshine was pouring in. Yet the house was empty as the grounds descended into chaos as the groom and bride had each disappeared.

"Why did you-" Tamlin shouted, but Lucien snapped.

"She was running away, what were you going to do?! Grab her and force her to marry you!" Lucien shouted, whilst pointing a finger into Tamlin's chest.

"You-"

"Don't start with me Tamlin! We will find her, but for now calm the fuck down!"

Tamlin blinked, initial rage simmering into something else entirely.

What just happened.

In the span of a few seconds, he had gone from jittering at the altar, watching his bride, then watching her run from him as he attempted to go after her.

He must have looked as shocked as he felt, because Lucien put a hand on each of his shoulders and guided him to the lounge.

"Sit." Lucien ordered, Tamlin obeyed. Staring into nothing, mind horribly blank.

Eventually one smaller thought came to mind, "I thought I wasn't allowed to winnow."

"You can in short distances, I spoke to Heilda. But she recommended it be someone else doing to actually winnowing."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Lucien sat down on the arm of the lounge.

"What do I do now?"

Lucien stared at him and for the first time said, "I have no idea."

***

"Feyre!"

Feyre didn't respond to the call. She crossed her arms and pressed further back into the trunk of the tree she was sitting in. Her knees bent, keeping her curled into the branch and just out of sight.

"Feyre oh sh- Mother lead me." Ianthe hissed as she caught herself from cursing, "Where is that girl?"

Feyre craned her neck to look down. She saw Ianthe holding up her pale blue robes in one hand and her shoes in the other as she trod through grass and mud.

"Feyre! I know you're out here somewhere!"

Somewhere indeed, currently right above her.

Ianthe screwed eyes shut and sighed deeply, "Couldn't have run somewhere inside, no we had to go out into the forest."

Despite the guilt and shame, the anxiety and hurt knotting and writhing in her stomach, threatening to make her lose her breakfast. Feyre chuckled.

Bad decision, as Ianthe straightened, her fae senses alerting her to the sound.

Ianthe whirled her head back and forth, "Feyre?"

Feyre had the muffle her laughter with the palm of her hand. But it wasn't enough to escape the hearing of the High Priestess.

Finally, Ianthe furrowed her brow and looked right up. Her confusion fell into deadpan as she saw the Cursebreaker nestled in a branch.

Mouth pursing, Ianthe gripped her robes a little tighter then asked, "Flower why are you in a tree?"

It hit her again.

As she had walked down the aisle. Seen the people, the faces staring and waiting. Seen Tamlin watching her. Then had seen Ianthe.

Permanant. Permanently stuck here. Permanently with the memories. Seeing everyone watching, like they had watched Under the Mountain.

That prayer had rushed through her head again. And she saw their faces when she stabbed them.

"Feyre?"

Feyre looked back down to Ianthe, but gritted her teeth and did not answer.

"Feyre." Ianthe said, deadpan, "Do not make me climb a tree."

Still Feyre remained silent whilst she brooded on her branch.

Ianthe's eye twitched. And finally she sighed heavily, mumbling something about the Mother punishing her.

"Fine! Fine." She said, dropping her shoes and letting her robes down from her hand.

Then Feyre watched as the pristine, tidy, and uptight High Priestess of Spring, grabbed onto a branch and planted her foot into the trunk. Climbing the tree.

She nearly slipped and fell, a curse nearly falling from her lips before she caught herself.

Her robes got caught on a sharp piece of bark and there was a ripping sound. Ianthe made a disgusted sound, before she climbed up higher and higher.

Finally, after clumsily forcing her way onto a branch right beside Feyre, she sat down. Panting heavily. Then she checked the small hole made in the hem of her robes.

She gritted her teeth but ultimately let it fall away as she faced why she came out here.

"Feyre, lovely spot you have here." Ianthe said, sarcasm lacing her voice.

"Thanks, picked it out myself." Feyre snapped.

The High Priestess sighed, "Feyre, you have to come down."

"Yes, I have to go down. And I have to go back to the wedding, don't I?" She snapped.

Ianthe observed her for a moment, before shifting uncomfortably. Stoic face seemingly trying to figure out what the best course of action was. Thinking logically, no doubt just wondering what the quickest way to get Feyre back to the wedding was.

It struck her that Ianthe didn't actually care what Feyre was feeling. She was doing as she was told, no other reason. It made Feyre feel all the more alone.

Back in that dungeon, with nothing to keep her company but her will and a bargain.

"Do you... Do you not wish to marry him?" She asked.

Feyre gritted her teeth, she screwed her eyes shut. Darkness pressed in and she remembered the Attor dragging her into the throne room.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to forget anything that ever happened. She wanted to go somewhere none of it ever touched her again.

"Feyre-"

"Just go away Ianthe I don't want to speak to you!" She shouted.

Ianthe bristled, "I am just trying to help-"

"Well you aren't!"

Now, her face iced over. Stone cold and fed up, "We have to go back, now either we can go willingly together, or I will get the sentries and they will drag you back."

A tremor ran up her spine at the threat, "I don't want to go back, Ianthe."

Ianthe loosened a tight breath, "Feyre, let's go home now."

"No."

"Archeron-" Her tone was warning.

"I don't- I don't want to go back." Feyre insisted.

Ianthe scrunched her nose slightly, eyebrows furrowing. Then her face evened out and her voice sweetened, "Feyre, we must go back."

The sudden change in tone, in face, a lure. An attempt at false comfort. The Priestess held out her hand.

Feyre looked at the pale hand before her.

Then at the ground.

Back to the pale hand.

Feyre reached out and Ianthe smiled.

The Cursebreaker batted her hand away with enough force that Ianthe shouted but nearly fell off balance. Giving Feyre enough to time to jump to the forest floor and bolt.

"Feyre Archeron!" Ianthe clung to the branch as she watched Feyre's form disappear further into the dark forest.

Slowly she took inhaled, before releasing her breath. She closed her eyes and asked the sky, "Why, why, why, why, why?"

Feyre ran and ran and ran. She lost a shoe but she didn't care. The feeling of dirt underfoot somehow comforting. Reminding her she was still there and breathing. In the wind, in the open space. Not in that cave, not Under the Mountain.

Yet still there. Always there like it followed her. A ghost of those months looming over her head.

She reached a clearing of grass and wildflowers. She fell to her knees. Legs unable to hold her any longer.

She shook, trembling hands and arms. She should've been able to run faster and far further than that.

But looking at her arms, they were spindly. Her legs which were sticks compared to what they had once been. She felt her cheeks, her face which was hollowed out.

Her fingers to skinny, her organs pressed against the skin of her torso.

When was the last time she had eaten? Had felt the urge to eat anything?

She licked her lips, her throat dry. The air was suffocating. Pollen that was sickeningly sweet. Air open, without any end.

A part of her wondered whether she had ever come out from Under the Mountain, feared, dreaded that at any moment she would awaken.

She heaved a sob, cries racking through her too fragile bones. Like she was made of glass she trembled.

Feyre felt like she was made of glass. Like at a single touch she might crack and fall into a thousand pieces and never be able to be put back together again.

'Make it stop.' She cried in her mind, sniffling, 'Someone make it all stop.'

'Take me away.' She pleaded with nothing.

There was the sound of stick cracking underfoot and Feyre's head snapped up.

But instead of Ianthe or sentries, violet eyes shone down upon her.

"Hello Feyre Darling."

"You!" Someone shouted, Rhysand and Feyre looked up to see Ianthe panting as she pointed to Rhysand.

Feyre had never seen her quite so dishevelled. But rage lined her features.

Rhysand however, simply smirked, before grabbing Feyre's arm as she screamed. The Night Lord lifted her tattooed hand and pointed to it.

"Don't mind me, pretty Priestess, I am simply collecting."

And just like that.

Rhysand winnowed them away.

***

"What do you mean she's gone?" Tamlin asked, voice near breathless.

Ianthe's eye was twitching relentlessly. She looked as though she had been dragged through a thorn bush. Then again if she had run after Feyre she may have been. Stick and leaves were stuck in her hair, some parts of her robes were torn. And dirt smudged her cheek.

"I mean she was whisked away by the Night Court." Ianthe said, "Our worst fears came true, and Rhysand made good on his word."

"Bastard son of a bitch." Lucien cursed from behind Tamlin.

Tamlin said nothing, unable to move. His eyes turned to Alis by the door who looked between the Priestess and the High lord with sympathetic eyes.

Slowly it lapped at his core. Rage that made his eyes start to black out. His hands trembling by his sides.

Chest rising and falling quicker.

Ianthe looked him up and down, then said to Lucien, "I'll leave you two to deal with this. I am going to have a six-hour long bath."

In a second the Priestess was gone. Alis following after her.

"Lucien, get out." Was the only warning Tamlin gave him.

Lucien's eyes went wide, and he sprinted out the door, slamming it closed.

And Tamlin's magic exploded in a second.

The High lord screamed as his magic ripped through him. flooding his veins with uncontrollable, overwhelming power. He screamed and fell to his knees. A ringing filled his ears, his vision went white.

When it resided, a sob wracked his body as shaking overtook him. His skin heated, getting hotter and hotter until his clothes were soaked with sweat. Trembling, Tamlin tried to pull himself to stand, but he suddenly doubled over and threw up.

The door flung open and Lucien shouted something he couldn't hear. The world was a swirling, dizzy haze of nothing.

Someone gasped and Tamlin looked up to see Alis sprinting for him. The female cupped his face, and Tamlin blacked out.

Link to chapter 2 is here! Link to chapter 3 is here!

14 notes · View notes

berrynarrybanana · 4 years

Text

Babyhoney

A/N: I’m sorry that I am a day late for my own challenge everyone, but it’s been a hectic week! I would like to thank everyone who is participating in The Sex Bucketlist Challenge first off. It’s been so nice chatting with everyone and seeing what they’ve come up with. I admittedly have done more plot than smut in this, but I hope the smut is still worth it lol. Thank you to my sweet group chat angels for reading over the doc I shared with them and making suggestions and edits and I would especially like to think the lovely @fromyourstrulyh for correcting all of my mistakes and @soullikestyles for setting me straight and making some wonderful suggestions.

Word Count: 6982

Warnings: Smut (obvs), secret relationship, fifties!auPrompt: Against a tree, cockwarming, drive in!

Links: Nightie | Car | Ring | Summer Dress

June 15, 1952 | 9:15 AM

It wasn’t my alarm clock that woke me up on Friday morning.

Three weeks into summer and I was living in sinful bliss with the man of my dreams. After graduation and my eighteenth birthday, my life slipped into a peaceful routine. I would sleep in until nine-thirty before waking up slowly. I would join my Mother downstairs for coffee and we would spend an hour talking about our plans for the day. This particular Friday morning, my Mother had an appointment that pulled her away from our daily coffee routine. That left me with a little more time to sleep in before I actually had to start my day.

Or so I thought.

When I opened my eyes, the bright sunshine beaming into my eyes, I heard a series of tapping from my bedroom window. I groaned, sitting up slowly before I glanced over to see the one person I least expected. I scrambled out of bed, quick to push my window up so that Harry could fall into my bedroom before anyone in the neighborhood saw him. I looked back at him with wide eyes when he fell into my room, reaching out to grab my arms as a method of steadying himself. It took him all of ten seconds to trail his eyes over the nightgown that I had chosen the night before. It was a light blue material that was definitely more sheer in the daylight. I cleared my throat, crossing my arms over my chest as he flashed me his signature smirk.

“Well what do we have here?” He said softly, brushing his fingers down the material as my face grew hot. “Do Mummy and Daddy know that you sleep like this?”

“Don’t start teasing me, Harry.” I pouted my lips out. “I’ve just woken up, barely opened my eyes before I heard you knocking at my window like some kind of burglar.”

“I’m sorry babyhoney.” He lowered his head, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead right below my hairline. “Will you forgive me for disrupting your beauty sleep?”

“I suppose.” I grumbled, fighting off my smile as he chuckled. “I thought we were meeting up at the park?”

“I couldn’t wait.” He shrugged, sliding his hands up to grip my sides tightly in his long fingers, he pulled me forward, brushing his nose against mine. “Missed my girl too much. Couldn’t wait any longer to see her.”

“You’re ridiculous.” I sighed, tipping my head back as he kissed gently over the apple of my cheek. “I shouldn’t have told you that my Mother was away this morning. Then again, I didn’t know you’d turn into such a desperate man at the prospect of spending time in bed with me.”

“Who said anything about spending time in bed?” He pulled back, lifting a hand up to cup my cheek with his palm, brushing his thumb over my hot cheek. “I’ve changed you, haven’t I? Turned you into a sex crazed little honey.”

“I am no such thing Harry Edward Styles!” I gasped, playfully pushing at his shoulder as he chuckled along with me. “You take that back.”

“I will not.” He shook his head. “Now give me a proper kiss babyhoney, my lips are feeling a little lonely.”

“Tell me why I should kiss you after a statement like that?” I pouted, pulling my head back as he leaned forward. “Give me one good reason and I’ll give you a very nice, slow kiss.”

“Hmm, because you love me?” He asked, raising his brows. “Is that good enough?”

“Well, I guess.” I let out a dramatic sigh, rolling my eyes at him. He chuckled, shaking his head before he leaned forward.

I carried out my promise, kissing him soft and slow. It was just how he liked it, something I learned within our first week of dating back in junior high. We had been together for nearly five years now, our entire relationship a secret to the outside world. I pulled back from our current kiss, shaking my head as a whine broke from Harry’s throat. I opened my eyes, looking up at him with a soft smile. It took him a second to open his eyes, basking in the afterglow of our kiss for as long as he possibly could. I kissed his chin before pushing up on my toes, kissing up his jawline.

He tilted his head to the side, digging his fingers into my sides as I looped my own arms behind his neck. It didn’t take long before Harry was pushing me back towards my bed, his lips finding mine once more. When I fell back onto my bed, Harry wasted no time before dropping to his knees. His palms massaged over my outer thigh as he pressed soft kisses over my kneecaps. I smiled down at him, lifting a hand to push the long hairs at the top of his head back.

He glanced up at me, a cheeky grin on his mouth.

“Do you have work today?” I asked softly. “I don’t want to disrupt your schedule?”

“I go in later.” He said softly. “I promised you lunch in the park, remember? M’gonna give you just that.”

“But I thought we were going to the drive-in tonight?” My brows furrowed as he slipped his fingers higher up, hooking them in the waistband of my panties. “dreamboat, you promised we would go see the new film with Grace Kelly. You know that I love her.”

“I know, babyhoney.” He cooed softly as I shifted on my bum, allowing him to slip my panties down to my knees before he pulled them off of me completely. “We’re gonna go to the drive-in, I promise.”

“Okay.” I said softly, sliding my fingers from his hair to grip his chin. “We don’t have time for this, dreamboat. You’re gonna be late and we won’t get to have our picnic.”

“Baby, stop being so anxious.” He mumbled, turning his head to kiss my inner wrist. “I have enough time for a little taste, I promise.”

“Well...if you’re late don’t blame me.” I said softly, releasing his chin as he shot me a toothy grin, his dimple carved out just for me. “I suppose a little taste wouldn’t hurt.”

“Think it’s better than breakfast if I’m honest.” He started to litter soft kisses to the inside of my thighs, his hands pulling my legs further apart as he made his way up. “Really is a good way to start my day.”

“I do quite like the glow I get after we fool around.” I giggled, dropping my upper half back onto my bed. “Can’t buy that in a bottle, that’s for sure.”

“Oh honey.” Harry laughed loudly at my statement. “What am I going to do with you?”

12:00 PM

Harry kept his promise to me.

When I hopped on the back of his motorcycle, there was a small picnic basket attached to the back that didn’t normally sit there. We went to a park outside of town that we frequented. The locals knew us there, but we never ran into anyone from our own town during our trips. He confessed that he stole his Mother’s kitchen tablecloth and he worked with Gemma to fix up lunch for both of us. There was a full spread laid out in front of us. Harry took great care in making sure my favorite dessert was tucked away in his picnic basket. When we were done eating, I curled into his side while he read aloud from his favorite book. It was like a small piece of heaven, lying in the sunshine with him. I loved to hear his voice reciting romantic words from the likes of Jane Austen and Emily Bronte. My eyes started to slip shut when he neared the end of a chapter of Emma, the current romance novel we were indulging in together.

“Babyhoney.” Harry kissed the top of my head several times. “You need to keep your eyes open, my sweet little sloth.”

“So tired, Harry.” I let out a loud yawn, turning in my spot so that my face was hidden in his side. He chuckled softly as I groaned. “Your voice lulls me right to sleep.”

“S’that a compliment?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes, dreamboat.” I let out a heavy sigh, pushing up on my arms before pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips. “Love you.”

“I love you more.” He rubbed the tip of his moan against mine and I giggled. “We better get going, I need to be at the shop in an hour.”

“Alright.” I let out another sigh before sitting up. Harry stood up as I started to put things back in the basket. When I was finished, I looked up to see Harry with his hand extended out. “Thank you, dreamboat.”

He pulled me to my feet, catching my lips when I stumbled into his chest. It didn’t take long for our innocent little kiss to turn into something more. My fingers found themselves tangled into his hair around the same time he was hoisting me up with a low grunt. I wrapped my legs around his, giggling as he started walking us towards whatever flat surface would support me. I broke the kiss with a giggle when he pushed my back into a wide tree trunk.

He wasted no time ducking his head down to kiss up my neck, suckling softly at the soft junction of my jaw and my neck. I tilted my head back, letting out a soft sigh as he nipped softly at the already wet skin. It didn’t take long for Harry to slip his hand under my dress, pushing aside my panties before he brushed his fingers up my wet folds. I closed my eyes, clenching around nothing as he brushed his fingers over my clit softly. He smirked into the skin of my jaw as he rubbed in soft circles, ignoring my desperate pleas for him to sink his fingers into me. After a few moments of his fingers circling over my clit, he dipped his forefinger into my entrance. I gasped when he hooked the first half of his digit up, massaging that soft spot inside of my walls before he pulled his finger away. I was seconds from complaining, my mouth ajar as I snapped my head up. I was quickly cut off by Harry adding a second finger into me.

My heartbeat picked up as he grunted softly, adjusting so that my back was firmly pressed against the tree. There was no way he could hold me up anymore.

“Harry, please.” I dropped my forehead to his, my breath fanning over his face as he looked up at me. “Fuck me.”

“Are you sure?” He gulped, pulling back to glance around the park. “Honey, someone could walk by and see us.”

“I don’t care.” I whispered, brushing my fingers over his cheek. “I need you now, dreamboat.”

“Bloody christ, woman.” He whined, closing his eyes tightly for a second before he was nodding. I tried to conceal my triumphant grin, but it was no use. “Who taught you to be this naughty?”

“You, Harry.” I let out a soft laugh as he shook his head, mumbling a soft curse under his breath. “Thought you needed to be at the shop in an hour, dreamboat? Are you sure you have time?”

“Gotta give my girl what she wants, don’t I? Gonna have to make this quick.” Harry mutters.

I look back at him with a mischievous smirk on my face. “Then, stop talking and show me what you can do, please.”

It took him a few minutes to maneuver around holding me and pulling his pants down, but when he finally got them down, he wasted no time sinking into me. It took my breath away when he settled against me, the tip of his cock brushing so deep in me that I clenched down around his shaft. He groaned, dropping his head forward before he pulled back. I whimpered at the empty feeling, but it didn’t last long. Harry settled into an impressive speed as I tangled my fingers in his hair. We were fucking against a tree in broad daylight as if it was perfectly normal and something about that turned me on even more. I closed my eyes, sliding one hand down to press against my clit as Harry continued to drive his hips into me.

“Gonna play with yourself for me, babyhoney?” He gasped, lifting his head up as I moaned softly in response. “That’s my sweet girl.”

“M’your sweet girl.” I opened my eyes, pressing my forehead to his. “I’m so close.”

“Yeah?” He asked, licking over his bottom lip. I took the cue, leaning down to press my lips to his in a desperate kiss. “Go on babyhoney, let go for me.”

His words sent me over the edge, my body picking up on his demand as I clenched around his shaft. I let out a loud gasp, burying my face in the crook of his shoulders as he bucked his hips a little harder. His thrusts turned sloppy as I started to come down and I knew that he was close. It didn’t take long for him to grunt, pressing his forehead against mine as he spilled into me. I would worry about the consequences of it later, my eyes and mind focused on Harry’s face as he tried to keep himself quiet. When he was finally finished, he pulled out slowly. When he hissed out in discomfort, I whimpered at the empty feeling left in the pit of my stomach.

“I need to keep an eye on you.” Harry chuckled lowly, shaking his head as I giggled. “You’re starting to get a little too wild baby.”

“Only for you dreamboat.” I lifted my hand up to pinch his cheek. “Now we absolutely have to get back to my house. You’re going to be late for work.”

“I’ll be fine, baby.” He brushed his nose against mine before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “I actually have something I want to ask you.”

In all the time that I had known Harry, I’d never seen him nervous like this before. I could tell he was nervous by the shifting of his eyes and the deep frown pulling between his brows. My heartbeat started to pick up as I watched him fumble for his words. He cleared his throat, tapping his fingers against my thigh. I slipped my legs from around his waist, pressing my feet flat to the ground. He shifted around, sliding his pants back up over his hips before buckling them up. I smoothed my hands over my dress after readjusting my panties. Harry let out a deep sigh before wiping his hands over his trousers. I watched with raised brows and wide eyes as he looked up towards the sky before looking back down at me.

“You know that I love you, right?” I nodded at his question, crossing my arms over my chest shyly. This felt more like a breakup speech than a confession of love. “You’re my entire world, honeybaby. I adore you.”

“I love you too, dreamboat.” I gave him a sad smile, stepping forward. “Is everything okay? Oh no!”

“What?” His eyes grew wide as tears started to pool in my own eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re moving back to England, aren’t you?” I sniffled, my heart breaking. “You’re going to leave me here and go back to that stupid old country and I’ll never see you again!”

“Honey, no!” He cried out, moving forward to wrap his arms around me. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

“Why would you scare me like that!” I groaned, pressing my palms over my face as I leaned into his chest. “You sounded like you were about to break up with me dreamboat!”

“I - what?” He pulled back, reaching up to wrap his fingers around my wrists. He pulled my hands away from my face and I sniffled, trying to control the tears flowing over my cheeks. “Never, babyhoney. I wouldn’t...I was trying to-fuck.”

“What?” I asked, my brows furrowing as he reached into his back pocket with one hand. When he brought his hand back into view, I noticed the small velvet box immediately. “Oh my god.”

“I had a speech prepared but…words aren’t enough when it comes to you.” He said softly, reaching over with his other hand to open the box with shaky fingers. “You are the reason I wake up every morning. You’re the reason I smile at nothing in the middle of a conversation with someone else. You’re the reason I wake up in the middle of the night, petrified because I don’t have you by my side.I know you still want to go to Harvard to earn your degree and I want to be there to support you every step of the way, as your husband.”

I didn’t even look at the ring, my eyes trained on Harry’s.

He was tearing up as well, the rims of his eyes red and the light green shade just a little darker.

“Will you marry me?” He asked, his voice breaking a little. “Please, babyhoney. Say something.”

“Yes.” I whispered, nodding my head. “Yes I will.”

“You will?” His frown was replaced with a smile, his eyes lighting up as a few tears fell onto his cheeks. “You didn’t even look at the ring.”

“You could have proposed to me with a piece of string and I would have said yes.” I chuckled. I moved forward, tossing my arms around his neck before another round of tears released from my eyes. I turned my head, pressing my nose into his shirt as a soft sob broke free. “I can’t believe I let you make love to me against a tree before proposing to me.”

“That’s what are you crying about?” He laughed, sliding his arms around my waist.

“No, I’m crying because I love you so much.” I pulled back, pressing my lips to his. “I’m going to love you until my heart stops beating dreamboat. I know it.”

5:00 PM

The plan that I had told my parents was a complete lie.

They thought that I would be going to the drive-in theatre with my best friend, Imogene, and her boyfriend Tommy. It wasn’t completely a lie. Imogene and Tommy would probably be at the drive-in tonight, but I wouldn’t be with them. I would be with Harry, pressed against his side as I watched Grace Kelly on the silver screen. We would split a strawberry shake like we always did and I would steal half of his fries. He never complained when I did it though. When I kissed my Mother and Father goodbye, I told them not to wait up for me. They never had a problem with me staying out late when I was with Imogene. She was a good girl with a good head on her shoulders as my Father would always say. It was half of the reason I used her as an alibi. She never knew I was with Harry but she knew I was off having a secret love affair with someone.

When I walked out of my house, I turned my head to the left expecting to see Harry’s motorcycle parked down the street. Sitting there in its normal spot was a pink and white car with white wall tires. I knew that wasn’t him because he didn’t actually own a car despite the fact he was working in an autoshop. I was just about to retreat back inside when I did a double take. My jaw dropped as I watched my fiance step out of the car, ruffling his hair slightly before turning my direction. I could see the grin on his face from my parent’s front porch and it made me shake my head in disbelief. I jogged down the steps before running down the sidewalk. I crashed into Harry at full speed, giggling as he wrapped his arms around me.

“Whose car is this?” I asked breathlessly, looking over at the Ford Fairlane convertible with wide eyes.

“It’s ours.” He said. “My boss bought a newer model for his wife last week and he promised me this one if I pulled some extra hours at the shop when he asked.”

“Really?” I looked back at him, my smile so wide that it actually hurt my cheeks. “I can’t believe you have a car!”

“We have a car.” He corrected me. “What’s mine is yours, remember?”

“Oh my god we have a car.” I cheered, jumping up in excitement. “You’re already the best husband a girl could ask for.”

“We’re not even married yet.” He chuckled, reaching down for my hand. “Come on, let’s get you fed before you get grumpy.”

“I am not grumpy!” I frowned, my brows pulling together. “You take that back right now.”

“Come on babyhoney.” He kissed my cheek before leaning down to open the passenger side door. “You’re already turning into a sourpuss.”

5:30 PM

Halfway through our split strawberry milkshake, Harry pressed his hand against my thigh.

Part of me wanted to wear pants to the drive-in because I knew when the sun went away, the air would get colder. The other part of me wanted to drive Harry crazy with a beautiful, yellow summer dress that I bought on clearance months ago at Sears. Harry always loved when I wore yellow, even if I disliked how the color looked on me. As his fingers softly brushed against the sensitive skin of my inner thigh I found that I couldn’t care less about the color yellow. As long as I got this kind of reaction from my dreamboat, I didn’t care if I was in a paper bag. When Grace Kelly appeared on the screen, I gasped. Harry let out a soft chuckle as I moved forward in my seat to get a better look at her. His hand slipped off of my thigh momentarily and I passed the shake back to him before I reached down to turn the dial on the radio higher.

“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Think you’re much prettier, babyhoney.” He pressed his palm against my lower back and I let out a soft chuckle before leaning back into his embrace. “I bet you would be a much better actor, too.”

“I don’t think I was meant to be on camera.” I shook my head at his words, glancing back at him with my nose scrunched up. “That’s more your speed, I think.”

“Why do you say that?” He chuckled.

“You’ve got such a handsome face.” I cooed, reaching up to pinch his cheek as he groaned. “And you’re so charming. Like Cary Grant.”

“I wouldn't want to be an actor either.” He mumbled as I pressed my palm against his chest. “I think I would want to be a musician. I’d be happy as a backup singer or something.”

“Dreamboat,” I rolled my eyes at his words before shaking my head. “You’d be the frontman, I know it. You have such an amazing singing voice.”

“Alright, you’re gonna blow my head up.” He patted my hand softly, trying to distract me from the pink dusted across his cheeks. “Pay attention to your movie.”

“Suddenly I’m not very interested in the movie, dreamboat.” My soft whisper was enough to pull his gaze from the screen, his attention back on me as I grinned. “I think there’s something else I would rather be doing right now.”

“What’s that?” His voice was strained as he spoke and I felt his warm palm land back on the skin of my thigh.

“Can I have a kiss?” I asked, brushing the tip of my nose against his. “It’s been so long since you’ve kissed me.”

“Kissed you for ten minutes when we got in the car.”

“Not the same.” I whispered, shaking my head. “I want a really good kiss, dreamboat.”

“Baby, I don’t think I know what you mean.” He hummed, pursing his lips out as if he was deep in thought. “Show me?”

“My pleasure.”

I pressed my lips to his seconds later and he gripped my thigh tighter in response.

I let out a soft sigh of content, tilting my head to the side before pressing up in my seat. I slipped the hand I had resting on his chest to his neck. I let my fingers trail over the skin of his neck softly as I tried to deepen the kiss. I slipped my tongue over the seam of his mouth, but he didn’t budge. I let out a frustrated whimper when I felt him smirk against my lips.

Before I could pull back to scold him, he cradled the back of my neck with his own hand. My hand fell back to his chest, my fingers sliding down the fabric of his baby blue sweater before I pushed it up. I rested my palm on his tummy, my heart fluttering when I felt him tense beneath my hands.

It was my turn to smile into the kiss as he tried to guide my hand closer to his cock. I didn’t give into his needs, sliding my hand up towards his nipples instead. I brushed my thumb over his right nipple, pulling my lips away to trail over his jawline as I tweaked it gently. Harry let out a breathless moan, tossing his head back as I kissed over his Adam's apple.

“Babyhoney?” His voice was deep and raspy and I wondered if I had anything to do with the change in mood. “Please touch me?”

“I am touching you, Dreamboat.” I whispered against the skin of his neck as I moved my fingers to his left nipple. “Touching you just how you like it, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but-”

“But?” I pulled back, a faux pout settling on my lips. “You don’t like it?”

“You know I love it.” He let out a frustrated chuckle, shaking his head. “Want your hand down my pants babyhoney. Wanna feel you touch my cock.”

“Oh.” I pressed my lips together, nodding my head at his words. “Do you want to show me how?”

“You know how, baby.” He whimpered, shuffling his hips around. “Pull me out, sweet girl.”

“I wasn’t quite finished kissing you.” I sighed dramatically before dropping my hand down to the waistband of his pants. “I guess that will just have to wait.”

“Yes.” He nodded, licking over his bottom lip as he lifted his hips up. I smirked at his eager attitude, popping the button on his trousers before I tugged the zipper down. “Want you to put your mouth on me. Want you to show me how good you can really be, baby.”

I wasted no time pulling him from the confines of his boxers, wrapping my fingers around his shaft firmly before giving it a few tugs. It never took me long to get him hard. When I brushed the pad of my thumb over the tip of his cock, I felt the wet traces of his pre-cum on my finger. I glanced up at him with soft eyes, shuffling myself a little bit further away so that I could lean down. I pressed a few, soft kisses to the tip of his cock before flattening my tongue out. I slipped it further down his shaft before closing my lips around it. I could tell that Harry was having a hard time staying composed above me. He had already slipped his fingers into the hair at the nape of my neck, tugging softly as I tried to push myself lower onto his cock. I pulled back, quickly, hollowing out my cheeks. Harry gasped, bucking his hips to chase the feeling of my mouth.

“Baby,” Harry tugged at my hair gently as he tried his best to pull his hips away. “The carhop is coming.”

“Fuck.” I groaned out, sitting up before I swiped the back of my hand over my lips. “Just...sit still, okay?”

“What?” Harry furrowed his brows as I climbed into his lap, hovering over him before I reached down to grab his shaft. “Fuck, baby. Are you going to sit on my cock?”

“Yes,” I gasped when he pushed his hips up, the tip of his cock pushing into me. “I can’t...don’t want the carhop seeing you. You’re mine.”

“M’yours.” He grasped at my hips, steadying me as I let his cock stretch me out. I let out a low whine when I settled into him fully, his fingers digging into my sides. “Feels so good to be in you like this. Can’t….all I feel is you, babyhoney.”

I rested my hands over his, linking our fingers together as I tried my best not to move my hips. I needed to sit absolutely still if we were going to get away with this. When the carhop finally made it to our car, I smiled over at her the best that I could. Harry pressed his chin onto my shoulder, pretending to watch the movie as I waited for the carhop to finish speaking.

“We’re done with everything.” I tried my best not to gasp when I absentmindedly shift my hips, the tip of his cock sending a shockwave through my body. “Thank you.”

“Have a stellar night you two!” She called out before walking off to the next car.

“Fuck.” I gasped when Harry shifted under me, his hips pushing up and catching me off guard. My thighs tensed up as Harry bit into my shoulder, sliding his arms around me. “I just...we’re missing the movie, Harry.”

“I don’t care about the movie.” He growled, shifting his hips up again. “I need it...know you do too, babyhoney.”

“I have to watch the movie, dreamboat.” I sighed softly as he sponged a few wet kisses up my neck, stopping at my jawline. “Gotta tell Mama about it when I get home.”

“We’ll come back tomorrow.” He tried to reason with me, sliding his palm over my lower stomach before pressing down. “Feel how full I make you? That’s me in your belly, babyhoney.”

“I know.” I bit my lower lip, rolling my eyes up towards the ceiling in attempts to control myself. I wanted so badly to move my hips, but listening to him beg was worth the wait. “Gotta be good for me, dreamboat.”

“Baby.” He whimpered in my ear. “Please don’t leave me hanging.”

“Shh, Harry.” I turned my head to look at him, ignoring the soft blush on his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. “I’m watching the film.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, but he didn’t say another word.

I kept my eyes on the screen, watching Grace float around each scene. I wasn’t really paying attention to what was happening, the feeling of Harry fidgeting behind me a distraction. Every few moments, he would move his hands. From settling on my thighs to my hips to my stomach to my sides. He moved them so much that it almost felt like he was making sure I was still okay. A few times, I squeezed my walls, shifting around to keep him on his toes. Each movement earned a gasp joined by his fingers digging into my skin through my dress. When we were nearing the end of the movie, I decided that enough was enough. I couldn’t hold out any longer, my hips moving on their own as I inhaled sharply. It didn’t take long for Harry to catch onto my motive, his hands falling on my hips as my body moved.

The stretch of his cock sent a shockwave through my body with each rise of my hips and by the time I fell back onto him, he was already praising me. My movements were slow and unsure, the confidence I’d had at the beginning of the night completely gone. My legs were starting to grow sore and I wasn’t sure that I could carry myself to an orgasm in this position. Something in the way Harry leaned forward, gripping my hips tighter, told me that he was aware of my struggle. He leaned forward, kissing up my neck before lifting my hips up. When I started to settle back onto him, he pushed me back up to the awkward crouching position.

“S’enough of that baby.” He grunted. “Want you to lay down for me, yeah?”

“Someone will notice.” I shook my head, looking back at him. “Just let me turn around, please? I want to...I want to finish making you feel good.”

“You make me feel good no matter what position we’re in.” He let out a soft chuckle as I turned around, climbing over his lap. “Babyhoney, I know your legs are tired.”

“They are.” I nodded, pressing my palms to his cheeks as he brushed his fingers up my bare thighs. “Maybe you can help me with that? Be a gentleman like you promised me, dreamboat?”

“Okay.” Harry nodded as I reached down with my right hand, holding his shaft before I slipped the tip past my entrance. “Don’t sit all the way, just...wait right there.”

“Why?” I asked, my brow furrowing as I settled towards the middle of his shaft.

My answer was a sharp thrust from Harry’s hips nearly knocking me over.

The air left my lungs in the form of a loud moan and I ducked my head down, burying my face in his shoulder as he pulled back out. The feeling before was good, but this was so much better. Harry lifted his hips again with a grunt, angling them slightly different and holding himself in me for just a few moments longer. I laced my fingers behind his neck, holding onto him as he started to find a steady rhythm. It wasn’t fast, but it felt so good. I could feel my own wetness starting to coat my thighs and my fingers started to slip apart, slick from perspiration as Harry pushed my closer to the edge. I knew that I was done for when he opened his mouth, his words sending chills down my spine.

“Gonna be such a good wife to me, I know it.” He grunted in my ear and I nodded. “Gonna be my partner, yeah? Gonna treat you like a bloody queen, baby. Gonna fuck you like this every night.”

“Harry.” I lifted my head up, pressing my forehead into his. “I’m close.”

“Yeah?” He let out a breathless chuckle, licking over his bottom lip. “Hold tight for me, baby. Gonna get you there, gonna make you cum.”

He did as promised, driving his hips up into me at an impressive speed. He had to kiss me to keep me quiet, the moans ripping from my mouth far too loud for our little rendezvous. When I came, it felt like the world stopped. Harry pulled my hips down flush against his, spilling into me with a grunt of his own. I rolled my hips forward, welcoming the soft sting as I continued to pulse around his cock. I pulled back from his mouth with a loud chuckle, tossing my head back.

“Surely someone saw that.” I let out a heavy sigh, trying to catch my breath.

When I finally felt calm enough, my chest no longer heaving, I lifted my hips up. Harry winced when his cock dropped back against his stomach and I kissed him softly as an apology. When he was tucked back into his trousers, I kissed him again.

“I can’t believe we just did that.” I chuckled into his mouth.

“You’re something else.” He shook his head before dropping it back to the seat behind him. “I’m gonna have to keep a close watch on you. Putting that ring on your finger has changed you, huh?”

“I just want to make my husband happy.” I hummed softly, pressing my lips to his. “Are you happy?”

“So happy that my heart could burst right out of my chest.” He whispered. “I can’t wait for it to be official.”

“I would go to the courthouse tomorrow to say ‘I do’, you know I would dreamboat.” I whispered, pulling back to brush my thumb over his chin. “You tell me when you’re ready and I’ll meet you at the altar.”

“I want you to have a proper wedding.” He frowned, his brows pulling together. “Everything we’ve done so far has been....it’s not been by the book. You deserve to have something normal and proper.”

“Harry, I-”

Before I could get the words out of my mouth, I heard my Father’s voice.

My blood ran cold as I looked at Harry, my eyes growing wide. Harry’s look mirrored mine, his fingers digging into the skin of my thighs before I slipped off of his lap. I was quick to grab the door handle, getting out of the car. I cursed when I felt the wetness between my legs. It slipped my mind that Harry didn’t pull out, his release still inside of me. I quickly rushed around the front of the car when I saw my Father barreling towards Bertha. My Mother was hot on his heels as Harry stepped out of the car, settling by my side with his hand on my lower back. In the distance, I could see Imogene and Tommy standing there with shock on their faces.

“You better get your hands off my daughter, you hoodrat.” My father was dangerously close to Harry, pointing his finger at him angrily.

“Daddy, it’s okay!” I said quickly, sliding between the two men. “It’s...Harry is harmless, I promise. He’s my boyfriend, Daddy.”

“Johnny is your boyfriend.” My Father didn’t take his eyes from Harry’s.

“He’s not.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, closing my eyes as I took a deep breath. “I broke up with Johnny a long time ago. He’s with someone else now.”

“How long have you been lying to us then?” My Mother asked quietly.

When I looked over at her, she was clutching her pearls with sad eyes.

“I’ve been with Harry for five years.” I whispered. “I really love him, Mama. I swear that I do.”

“You don’t know what love is!” My Father snapped, his eyes finally landing on mine. I felt Harry stand up straighter behind me, his chest brushing my back as he rested his fingers lightly on my hip. “You’re just a child.”

“I’m not a child, daddy.” I whispered, the familiar burn behind my eyes catching me off guard. “I love him.”

“We’re going home.” My Father said, reaching down for my hand. I pulled it back, holding it to my chest. “Y/N we are going home, you don’t have a choice.”

“Sir, maybe we can take this somewhere more private.” Harry spoke up behind me. “We can all talk this out and-”

“You don’t speak to me.” My Father snapped at Harry before looking back at me. “Let’s go.”

“I’m not a child anymore. If you insist on making me choose between you and Harry, I’ll pick him. I will always pick him. He’s my soulmate.” I said.

“If you don’t come home with us right now, there’s no coming back. There will be no university in the fall or summer trip to the beach.” My Father seethed, but I didn’t budge. “You would give up your family for a lowlife like him.”

“Yes.” I didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry that you don’t believe me, but Harry is my soulmate and I...I can’t leave him. Not even for you.”

It was silent for a minute, the whole world standing still as my father and I stared at each other. I tried to hold it all in, hiding my fear behind a deep scowl. The only thing keeping me grounded and steady was Harry’s touch. I waited, watching my Father’s face turn red with anger with each passing second. It didn’t take him long to turn around, booking past my Mother. I looked over at her, my face softening as I realized that maybe I shouldn’t have kept it from her. She stared back at me with a look of sheer disappointment in her eyes and it nearly broke me. She looked back at Harry, letting go of her pearls as she let out a heavy sigh.

“He’s going to need time to adjust.” My Mother said quietly. “I’ll pack up your things. You can come pick them up on Sunday after church.”

“Okay.” I croaked out, reaching up to lace my fingers with Harry’s. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t say another word, turning on her heels before walking away.

When she was out of sight, I stumbled back into Harry. I pressed the fingers of my freehand to my lips, muffling the sob that burst out of my chest as I watched my parents peel away. Harry wrapped both of his arms around me as my knees started to grow weak. I turned in his arms, burying my face in his chest as he cooed softly above me.

“It’s going to be alright.” He said softly. “They just need time, like your Mother said.”

“I don’t think time will fix it.” I hiccuped, looking up at him. “Are you...are you okay?”

“I’m alright, babyhoney.” He smiled softly, reaching up to brush his fingers over my wet cheeks. I sniffled, nodding my head. “Stop your cryin’, alright? Let’s go home. I’m sure Mum will be excited to have another girl around.”

“You don’t think she’ll be upset?” I asked.

“Never.” Harry said softly. “You’re family now.”

#the bucketlist fic challenge #harry styles smut #50's!harry #my writing #babyhoney

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twstarchives · 4 years

Text

Leona Kingscholar・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines: Gala Couture Event Card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “Why should it bother anyone how I look? Let me do what I want.”

Groovy “Hmph. Is my school uniform really that unusual?”

Home Setting “What’s up?”

Home Transitions “Ugh, I’m tired. Everyone telling me to get to class is so annoying.”

“Ruggie was lookin’ for me? It’s probably nothing important. Leave me alone.”

“If you’re bored you should just sleep all day. Think about how much time you could waste.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Why’re you staring at me? What, you wanted to see me? Heh, you’re so direct.”

Home Taps “A necktie? You seriously think I’d wear something that fancy?”

“I’m starvin’... Oi, go get me something to eat. Don’t worry, I’ll share if there’s any left over.”

“I don’t like restricting clothes. Who cares if I look a little sloppy?”

“Your life is something that’s almost entirely decided for you the moment you’re born. You’re not gonna get far with dedication alone.”

“Stop poking at me; it’s pissin’ me off. If you need something then use your words.”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “I don’t like getting hot and sweaty, but I hate losing even more.”

Groovy “Well, my magift skills will get rusty if I don’t take it seriously every now and then.”

Home Setting “Like hell am I putting any effort into this class.”

Home Transitions “Other dorms challenge me all the time in magift. Obviously I have very good sportsmanship.”

“It’s so hot... I’m feeling like a cold bath. I wanna head back to Savanaclaw.”

“I like competitions. If you ever want to challenge me, I’ll take you on any day.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Strength training... hm. I don’t think it’d make a difference to me if I trained like that or not.”

Home Taps “Brute strength is way better than pretty-looking magic. But obviously the most important thing is using your head.”

“Ah, whatever should I do? I just hate doing things so feral like using fangs and claws to take someone down, but...”

“Jack? His stubborn side is irritating, but with a build like that he’d make a great magift player.”

“I enjoy the ‘using your wit to take down your opponent’ aspect of magift. I don’t really like the physical part of it.”

“My hair tie’s coming loose? Then fix it for me.”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “It’s boring having to do things you already know how to do. Classes are so tedious.”

Groovy “C’mon, stop followin’ me around like a little kitten. I hate being around kids.”

Home Setting “Let’s make it quick.”

Home Transitions “The Botanical Garden has the perfect temperature; it puts me straight to sleep. Don’t you feel that too?”

“You can tell what’s in something if you smell it, right? ...Ah? Must be inconvenient not having a strong sense of smell.”

“I’ve been looking for a good place to take a nap. Let me use the Ramshackle Dorm.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Why are you looking at me like that? Even I sometimes participate in class. Just depends on how I’m feeling.”

Home Setting (Groovy) “...Achoo! Oi, you left some kinda weird pollen in the Botanical Garden. Go get rid of it outside.”

Home Taps “Ruggie washes my lab coat for me too. What’s wrong with that? It’s convenient.”

“I hate the smell of chemicals; they give me a headache. Makes me wish I had the same nonexistent sense of smell all of you have.”

“You want me to help you with your work? Ha, you must really be stuck if you’re coming to me of all people for help.”

“There are a lot of plants back in my hometown you’d never see at this school. Actually, it’s just full of nature over there.”

“Knock it off. You’re going to get it if you keep playing with my tail like that.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You reek of strong chemicals... Go take a bath or something and wash off that odor.”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “A ceremony? I hate formal things.”

Groovy *yawns* “...Oi, let’s go nap somewhere.”

Home Setting “My plans after this? Like I know.”

Home Transitions “You wanna know if I’m skipping today...? ...I’d be doing that if I could. Ruggie was warning me not to.”

“Let’s go and get this over with already. Ceremonies are just child’s play anyway.”

“Having to listen to all the teachers’ long speeches now... Hah. Just thinking about it makes me depressed.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Trein’ll blow up at me if I don’t have my hood on during the ceremony. ...Hah, it’s so annoying.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Heh~ Even you can pull off these ceremony robes. Heheh... Don’t get mad, I’m just messing with you.”

Home Taps “No one’s gonna notice if one or two people are missing from the ceremony. Let’s dip.”

“Crowley always talks for so damn long. Doesn’t he know how to make things brief?”

“Savanaclaw will stay in line even if I’m not there. That’s what it means to be trained.”

“My ears are so pushed down... Why are the school’s ceremony robes made like this?”

“Yeah, yeah, we gotta go. You don’t need to pull me; I already know.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “You’re always so serious about things. Don’t you ever get tired? ...Ha, yeah, that was a stupid question.”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “Calling out to me like this—you don’t seem to know fear.”

“I usually don’t let my prey slip by me... but I’m in a good mood right now. I’ll make an exception and won’t eat you.”

Groovy “I’ll show you what ‘leader of the pride’ really means.”

Home Setting “Savanaclaw students need to hide their vulnerable sides.”

Home Transitions “The Ramshackle Dorm is really nice. There’s no life or anything there so it’s the perfect place to sleep.”

“The ways of my dorm are simple. It’s a survival of the fittest. You better be careful if you don’t wanna get eaten.”

“If you need something then go talk to Ruggie. He’ll tell me if he thinks it’s important.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Are you curious about Savanaclaw? Alright, I’ll tell you about the dorm life here.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “For an herbivore, you’re really lax about getting near me. Aren’t you scared? ...Heh, you’ve got guts.”

Home Taps “It’s annoying how the feathers on my staff are swaying all the time... but they’re supposed to pay homage to the bird that served the King of Beasts, so I’d get yelled at if I took them off.”

“Where I live, scars are seen as a sign of bravery. They say the King of Beasts had a big scar going through his left eye too.”

“A vice dorm leader? In the past I let some people try their hand at it, but everyone who challenged me lost and gave up. So we don’t have one for now.”

“‘Why did I become the dorm leader?’ Isn’t that obvious? It’s ‘cause I’m the most superior.”

“Oi, stop clinging to me. I hate the warmth. And you’re not a kid anymore.”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I don’t have time for you right now. The afternoon hours are the perfect time for me to sleep.”

Duo Magic Leona: “Oi Vil, after me!” Vil: “Don’t order me around, Leona.”

Tutorial “Oi, let’s go. Come with me.”

Lv Up “Getting some support feels nice.”

“This isn’t bad, but I’m still not full.”

“No amount of power in the world is going to get in my way.”

Max Lv Up “Haha, it feels like the whole world has become mine. Keep devoting yourself to me and I’ll let you have a reward.”

Episode Lv Up “I told myself I wasn’t going to hang around herbivores, but I’ve been getting interested in you. I’ll keep on looking after you as long as you’re not causing trouble.”

Magic Lv Up “Wanting to stay with me while I’m practicing my magic is so typical of you. Most people would just curl up their tails and whine about it.”

Limit Break “Obviously I can do it if I try. ...I just don’t wanna do it.”

Groovy “You wanna see me actually being serious? ...Haha. It’s 100 years too early to show that to an herbivore.”

Lesson Select “Hey, sit in front of me. If I’m in the back I can sleep in peace.”

“This isn’t really something to think so hard about. I’m getting tired of waiting.”

“Everyone’s sittin’ side-by-side working together? I’m good, thanks.”

Lesson Start “Ah~ Boring.”

Lesson End “...That class was so boring; it was all stuff I already knew.”

Battle Start “I know how to fight with more than just power and fangs.”

Battle Win “Didn’t you know I was going to win?”

Other

Profile Quote “Life’s not fair, is it? Don’t you agree?” ¹

January 2020 Trailer “Before joining this academy, don’t you think you should work on that little roar of yours?” ²

Countdown Poster “If you want to see the light of another day, then curl up your tail and do as you’re told.” ³

Login Bonus “You’re here again? It’s a waste doing this everyday. But I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you that someday your efforts pay off.”

Player Birthday Wish “You don’t have to look at me with those pleading eyes. Of course I know it’s your birthday. Forgive me for not leaping for joy.”

Magic History

Good ★

“The king, huh...?”

“The weather’s nice.”

“I made eye contact with the cat.”

“Wish I skipped.”

“Struggling with an incompetent king...”

“Zzz...”

“I’m tired...”

“He was a passive king.”

“Finish this already.”

Great ★★

“Doesn’t everybody know this?”

“I don’t need the textbook.”

“What are you surprised about?”

Perfect ★★★

“It’s feral instinct.”

“Move on already.”

“Obviously.”

Special Lesson Perfect ★★★

“Why’s Crowley here?”

“Making a country thrive...”

“It doesn’t matter who’s here.”

Flying

Good ★

“I’ve been tired since this morning...”

“That all you got?”

“What a pain...”

“Easy win.”

“Coach Vargas is so annoying.”

“I’m starvin’...”

“I don’t wanna move around when I just ate.”

“Have Jack teach you.”

“I caught a bird.”

Great ★★

“I’ll just do it.”

“Too easy.”

“Watch.”

Perfect ★★★

“I could do this in my sleep.”

“Aah? I was asleep.”

“This is easier than walking.”

Special Lesson Perfect ★★★

“Does he really have free time right now?”

“Look ahead and fly.”

“How long do you want me flying for?”

Alchemy

Good ★

“Just do it however.”

“Gold... Not bad.”

“I'm not in the mood for this.”

“Seems like something Ruggie would like.”

“Crewel...”

“The smell of chemicals hurts my nose.”

“It’ll work if you just mix it.”

“I’m getting hungry.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Let’s take a break.”

“Pay attention.”

“I wanna sleep in the afternoons...”

“Ah, the pot scorched.”

“Finished.”

“Is this enough already?”

Great ★★

“You didn’t even know this?”

“Don’t make light of me.”

“I’m tired of this.”

“Feels like my nose is acting up.”

“I did this last year.”

Perfect ★★★

“I’m bored.”

“I want an actual challenge.”

“I can do this without even thinking about it.”

“Do that later.”

“Need some help?”

Special Lesson Perfect ★★★

“Teach, explain this.”

“I don’t even have time to sleep.”

“Oi, smoke! By your hands!”

“Crowley’s real pushy.”

“I just have to do this, right?”

References from The Lion King:

Life’s not fair, is it?

You might want to work on that little roar of yours

You shall never see the light of another day

#leona kingscholar #voice lines

397 notes · View notes

whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Pt. 1 "First Impressions" (Elias Intro)

CW: foster care mention, tourettes syndrome, ticcing, drug mention, food mention, conversation about abuse, hospital setting, injury mention, discussion of poisoned food, vomit mention (let me know if i missed anything!)

Elias was nothing special, really, not in his eyes. He was taken from his deadbeat parents when he was 11, he was tossed around from foster homes to group homes and back again for an exhausting seven years, he didn’t finish high school. The most interesting thing about him was his tourettes, but even that was embarrassing and shameful, another reason to be ignored. Truth was, he was swept under the rug and forgotten for his whole life, so no one, including himself, thought he would ever amount to much, or thought he was worthy of nice things. People like him didn’t just get nice things, unless they were very lucky, and Elias had found out time after disappointing time that he was not one of the fortunate ones.

But Tyson sure as hell made him feel like he could be.

It was amusing to Elias how they met, even though Tyson claimed he wished it would’ve been more pleasant. Tyson had yet to learn that Elias repelled pleasantries. Elias had been staying with a few people he knew from high school, before he dropped out, in their cramped apartment, working part time at a diner so he could try and move out and be on his own. He was so tired of sharing small spaces with people. He would walk home from work everyday, because of course he couldn’t afford a car or even a bike. On that particular night, it was dark and raining, and Elias was in a particular rush to get to the apartment and change out of his wet clothes. Which is why he tried to rush across the street where there wasn’t a crosswalk, unaware of the fast car turning the corner until he heard the screech of tires next to him.

The man that got out of the car looked just as scared as Elias felt, rushing towards him in a flurry of apologies. “I am so sorry! Are you ok? Are you hurt?” His voice was shaking, and it made Elias uneasy, he didn’t look like he would scare easily, with his strong build and his mature face.

Elias scowled at him, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t drive so fast on this road, dickbag,” he scolded, “you could’ve fucking killed me!”

The man looked surprised, like he wasn’t expecting someone of Elias’s stature to have such a foul mouth. “I...I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see you crossing and I...Where are you headed? Let me give you a ride.”

“What?” He squeaked in response. Logically, he knew it was his fault anyway, he wasn’t supposed to cross there, it was dark and rainy and not this stranger's fault, he was just quick to anger and too afraid to admit when he was in the wrong. “GIve me a ride?”

“Please, it’s the very least I can do. I feel awful.”

Elias knew that he shouldn’t get into a stranger's car, that it might be dangerous, that this man's kindness could be some sort of sinister facade. But he seemed so genuine, so concerned. So he slowly nodded, ducking into the passengers side door carefully. It was better than walking home in the rain. “My name’s Elias.” He heard himself saying.

“Elias,” the man repeated, “I’m Tyson.”

That was over a month ago, and the two were much more than strangers who almost had a horrible accident, by now. As Tyson was driving him home, they were talking about surface level things to fill the awkward spaces, and Tyson mentioned his ex-boyfriend, at which Elias mentioned his ex-boyfriend, and when they got to his apartment, Tyson asked for his number. They’d gotten much closer since then, Elias even stayed over at Tyson’s apartment a few days a week.

Tyson was so down to earth, so kind and forgiving and patient. He smoked weed, but he never pressured Elias into it, like other people had in the past. He was a nurse at a behavioral health hospital, he only worked nights, so they typically spent all day together. Elias was so enthralled by him and everything he did, often he would sit with Tyson as he drew sloppy, drug hazed sketches, or talk with him about the way the world worked, or things of that nature. The best part about being with Tyson was that he never felt forgotten or ignored, and he rather enjoyed the new attention. He enjoyed feeling cared about, important.

Sometimes Elias would stay at Tyson’s apartment when Tyson went to work, sleeping in his bed and waiting for him to come home in the morning. Tyson came home and crawled under the covers to catch up on sleep he’d missed at work, and after a while of holding each other while they slept, Elias got up to cook breakfast. He wasn’t a great cook, per say, but he could fry an egg alright, and maybe whip up some french toast on a good day. Today was apparently not one of the better ones, and the burnt food ended up in the trash, leaving him with scrambled eggs in the bottom of the pan. It wasn’t spectacular, but it would have to do.

“Good morning,” he called to Tyson as he came into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He always looked so nice upon waking up, his hair messy and how the late morning sun hit his beautiful dark skin as he stretched. “I made eggs. Not sure how safe they are to eat, though.”

Tyson offered a weak smile, but didn’t seem too amused at the joke. Elias wondered if he’d done something wrong, Tyson was usually so light-hearted.

“I need to talk to you about something, Eli.” He grumbled. Elias quite liked that nickname, but not when the rest of the sentence sounded so heavy. “Can we sit for a second?”

Once they were at the table, Elias took a deep breath, ready to put his defenses up, ready to be angry instead of hurt. He found himself thinking over the last few days, had he said something wrong? Was he annoying him? Overstaying his welcome at his apartment? “You’re tired of me, aren’t you?” He asked.

“No! Oh God, Eli, no!” He reached forward to take his hand as he spoke, smiling at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. You’re fine, we’re fine. This is about...well, it’s about my ex.”

Elias relaxed a fraction at the reassurance, so he was fine, Tyson wasn’t sick of him. Then he nodded for him to go on, listening carefully. Tyson didn’t talk about him much, but Elias knew that his name was Allen, that he had a lot of issues that were never really discussed in detail.

“You know how I told you that he had a lot going on? That he was sort of...a mess?” He paused, taking a deep breath to organize his thoughts. “Well, a while ago, he got mixed up with these really bad people, it wasn’t his fault, it should’ve never happened, and he got really hurt.” Tyson sounded nervous, and Elias squeezed his hand gently to comfort him. “Anyway, this guy he was with really hurt him, for a really long time. His name is August. I mean, this guy was a monster, he ruined his life.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Elias asked. The subject seemed to make both of them uneasy, and he stroked his thumb mindlessly against Tyson’s knuckles.

Tyson took a deep breath then, looking like he didn’t want to answer. “Well...He got hurt again, he’s at the hospital. I guess he didn’t want to call his boyfriend so they called me instead. I have to go pick him up. And I wanted you to come with me, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Elias didn’t know why he agreed to it, really, he just knew that within an hour he was walking down the cold, sterile, hallway of a hospital, hand in hand with an obviously nervous Tyson. He wasn’t really sure what to expect, having heard very few things about Allen in the past. Allen didn’t have his shit together, Tyson had told him, so as much as they had tried to work through things, it just wasn’t possible. From what he gathered, Tyson cared a lot about this guy, even if it wasn’t in that way anymore, and he believed him. Allen had someone else anyway, so he didn’t have anything to worry about. At least he hoped he didn’t.

Elias was shocked at how horrible Allen looked, like he was seconds from keeling over right there on the hospital bed. He was bruised up every few inches from head to toe, a sick pallor to him. Tyson wasn’t lying when he’d said that the person, August, had really hurt him.

Tyson rapped gently against the door frame, causing Allen to squint up at them with a pained look on his face. His black hair fell against his jaw and a few strands over his face, like he couldn’t be bothered to push it away from his eyes. He would be very attractive, if not for the splotchy bruises on his face, Elias thought to himself. His features were striking, all sharp angles and piercing eyes, his full lips parted slightly in fear.

“Oh, Allen.” Tyson breathed, his voice disdainful, upset at the state he was in. Recognition finally fell across his face, as if he couldn’t see who it was before he spoke.

“Tyson,” he whimpered, “you ca-came.” Relief coated his words, like he was expecting Tyson to say he didn’t want to come help him. Elias knew Tyson, knew the selfless way he cared for people, and if that’s what Allen was expecting, it was completely unrealistic.

“Of course.” Tyson reached to the side and flipped on one of the lights, which made Allen flinch horribly and squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Elias was watching on with a pitiful interest, he had never seen someone so hurt, so scared. This August guy must’ve really done a number on him.

Elias followed close behind Tyson as he went to pull up a chair next to the bed, and Allen stared at him apprehensively. As if just remembering he was there, Tyson reached for his hand again as they sat down. “I forgot to introduce you, this is my boyfriend, Elias.” He shot him a fond look, and Elias smiled brightly back. He liked the sound of that, “his boyfriend”.

“Nice to finally meet you,” he spoke softly, trying not to startle him, “I’ve heard quite a bit about you. All good things.”

Allen nodded, dropping his head to look at the blanket and picking at a loose thread there. “Nice t-to meet you, too,” he stammered. “Ty, you didn’t uh...tell Leo, right? That I was here?”

“No,” Tyson assured him. “Did you want me to?” He sounded so comforting, so kind, just like he always did.

“No, I do-don’t think I’m ready to see him.”

They fell into a heavy silence after that, no one knowing what the right thing to say was. Eventually, Allen began to ask questions about their relationship, trying to get them to talk about themselves so he didn’t feel the attention on him. It worked for a while, up until Tyson had to excuse himself to the bathroom, and then Allen looked even more frightened as he realized he would be alone with Elias, a perfect stranger.

Elias ran through ways in his head of how to make Allen know that he meant no harm, that he wasn’t going to hurt him. Before he could think about it, he blurted, “I hope you don’t still like him.” He felt bad as soon as he said it, Allen was sitting in a hospital bed, covered in aches and pains, the last thing he needed was for Elias to interrogate him in his insecurity. He was surprised when Allen let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.

“Who, Tyson?” He replied. Elias nodded half-heartedly. “No, I haven’t for awhile. D-don’t worry.”

Elias relaxed, leaning forward in his chair. “Ok, cause I really like him.” He bit his lip, a thoughtful look on his face. “He really cares about you. Maybe not in that way, but he really does. And that’s ok, cause you look like you could use someone who cares about you.”

Allen’s face softened, and he seemed to deflate from his afraid, panicked demeanor, at least a little. “I could. Th-thank you.”

Just then, Tyson walked in, smiling softly at the two of them. “Are you talking about me?” He teased, ruffling Elias’s blond hair as he walked past him to sit down.

“Us? Oh no, we were talking about football.” Elias joked. Tyson laughed, but Allen couldn’t even smile. He seemed glad for the company, but he didn’t look like he was used to being talked to, included in conversation.

“So, if you’re not staying with Leo right now, do you have somewhere to stay?” Tyson asked. Allen didn’t answer, didn’t even look up. He seemed like he was checked out, his thoughts somewhere else, very far from the safety of the hospital room. “Allen?”

Allen flinched at his own name, then looked up at him. “Sorry...what?”

“I said do you have a place to stay?”

Allen looked thoughtful, staring back at the wall. “Oh. Uh...I hadn’t thought about it, really. I g-guess once I start talking to Leo again...if he’ll even want to talk to me again…”

“Maybe you could stay with us,” he interrupted, already seeing where the anxious thought was headed, “Would that be ok, Eli?”

Elias nodded eagerly. He didn’t even realize that they were “us” at that point, as far as living together. It was nice to hear him phrase it that way. And he could tell from looking at Allen that he really needed a safe place to stay, and Tyson could definitely provide that.

Allen thanked them, then went quiet again. After a few moments, he sighed heavily, like simply existing was extremely taxing on his well being. “I always feel so l-lost without him.” He admitted. “I know I shouldn’t, b-but I just feel like I’m doing everything wrong and just d-don’t know.”

Elias assumed he was talking about August, and he felt bad. He couldn’t imagine how shitty it must feel to miss someone who had caused so much pain, damaged him so badly. Elias had been hurt and betrayed by people who were supposed to take care of him plenty of times, but he’d never missed them after, only looking back with resentment and anger.

“Yeah,” Tyson breathed. “I know it’s really rough on you. He really messed up your view of good and bad. But you’re doing great, someone will tell you if something isn’t ok, you’re not gonna be in trouble or anything.”

It was amazing, how Tyson could talk someone out of their panic so easily, how he seemed to know just what to say to assure them. Allen merely shrugged, clearly not as amazed as Elias was. “Leo probably hates me. I’m so afraid to call him.”

“We’ll figure that out when we get back. I’m sure he doesn’t, he’s probably just worried sick. You’ve got a tendency to do that to him.” He smiled softly at him, trying to get him to relax. It didn’t work.

Allen only had to be in the hospital for about an hour and a half after that, and then Tyson drove him and Elias back to his apartment. Elias glanced back at him every now and then, frowning when he saw he had pulled his hood over his eyes and was covering his ears with his hands. He turned the music down, thinking that maybe it was too loud, but Allen stayed tucked away into his little shell the rest of the ride back.

Finally, he was sitting at the kitchen table with his hands folded in front of him obediently as Tyson cooked them lunch. Elias came and sat with him at one point, smiling at him. “I really like your hair,” he said, “really suits your face.” He hoped that if he was nice enough, Allen would stop being so afraid and get comfortable. It was sad to see him looking so worried.

“Thank you.” Allen replied, almost mechanically.

Tyson joined them minutes later, setting a plate in front of Allen, who began staring at it trivially.

“What, you don’t like it?” Tyson teased. Even though he knew he was trying to ask it in a joking way so he wouldn’t freak Allen out, Elias could tell he was genuinely concerned. He hoped Allen knew that too.

Allen only frowned up at him, like he was too afraid to speak. He was so god damn quiet, Elias gathered. He didn’t know how, because Elias had been through his fair share of hard times and they all made him loud and pissed off. He couldn’t think of a single time that someone had treated him like garbage and he decided he would be quiet. He couldn’t tell if that signified that what happened to Allen was more dreadful than he could guess, or if they just handled things differently. He hopped, for Allen’s sake, that it was the ladder.

“N-no..I just uh...just…” he trailed off, picking up his fork with shaking hands. He looked like he was going to be sick, staring at the food. Elias tasted it, out of curiosity, but it was just fine.

“You just what?” Tyson prompted.

Allen had tears in his eyes as he stabbed through the food, staring at it in fear, like it was going to hurt him itself. For a moment, he looked like he was going to try to eat it, but then he dropped the fork to the plate with a clink and covered his face. “I’m s-sorry,” he choked out, “I really am.”

“Hey, it’s ok. Why don't you tell me what’s going on? We’ll figure it out.”

“J-just...last time someone gave me f-food, it was August, and he put something in it th-that made me sick for days... I just can’t stop thinking about that.”

Tyson and Elias exchanged a disgusted frown, not wanting to believe that someone would do that. “What a dick,” Elias remarked, “seriously, who the fuck does that?”

Allen shook his head, wiping at his tears furiously. “No, he only did it because I was doing something wrong. I d-deserved it.”

“Don’t say that. You did nothing wrong, Allen.”

He nodded at that, shutting himself up. Elias suddenly wasn’t hungry. None of them were.

“I think I need to call Leo,” Allen suddenly said, standing from the table. He grabbed his phone, then went outside.

Elias stood up and began helping Tyson clean up the untouched food from the table. He wondered if what he said upset Allen, that’s why he suddenly wanted to leave. It was true though, August was a dick for it, and there was nothing Allen could have done to warrant that kind of treatment. “Did I upset him?” Elias asked Tyson, a worried look on his face. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, love, it’s not your fault. He’s just fragile right now.” He sighed heavily as he set the plates into the sink, looking rather overwhelmed. “I know this is a lot to handle, thank you for being so cool about it.”

Before he could respond, Allen came back in, tears streaming down his face. “Leo’s coming to g-get me,” he murmured, leaning against the wall as if it was too hard to stand upright on his own, “thank you f-for everything.”

Tyson nodded at him, a look of relief slipping onto his face. “Oh, that’s good. How did talking to him go?”

Allen shrugged uselessly, not wanting to go into depth. He seemed exhausted, and no one could blame him, with what he’d been through. Tyson offered to walk him outside to meet Leo, and Elias sat inside by himself while he waited. He thought about how strange of a circumstance it was, usually when people met their partners ex, things were tense and awkward, but meeting Allen wasn’t like how he’d expect, he wasn’t jealous or insecure, he mainly just felt bad for the guy.

When Tyson came back inside, it was like they were both too afraid to talk about what happened, so they just turned on a movie instead, leaning against each other and pretending there was nothing to talk about.

#elias x tyson #whump #whumpblr #whump community #whumpay2021 #whump drabble #whump writing #original story #whump oc #whump character #whump intro #whump blog #whumpee #whump scenario #my boys! i love them #allen all scared in the hospital is just

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years

Text

Goodbye, My Lover

Oh this one hurts y'all! Prompt C-50 was hurt/comfort with "How drunk was I?"

Ley, i don’t know how much you’re gonna love me after this but i really really went for the hurt part of this. Please forgive me friend?! And i hope you still like this even if it’s not what you expected?

Masterlist, Goodbye My Friend

Send me prompts y’all! I love them! And i’m avoiding uni work at all costs so i’m happy to do them!

-----------------------------------------------------------

"Fuck you." Annabeth Chase breathes, grey eyes misty with anger.

"Just get out, leave me alone." Percy Jackson turns away, turns his back to her.

"The next time," Her voice cracks but she stands her ground, "When you come crawling back, when you need us, remember the words you said today. Because I will never forget."

And with that his apartment door slams, echoing around the room, in time with the ringing in his ears. His mind is blank, body numb. He doesn't want to believe it, doesn't want to even think it. No. It's not true. It can never be true.

The words he said to his best friend rattle in his husk of a heart. Rattle and bounce and tear. It's your fucking fault. Why didn't you do anything. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. He blocks out the anguish he saw in her eyes, blocks out the broken sound she had made when he screamed. He doesn't want to believe this. Doesn't want to... Believe what?

Percy grabs his car keys and nearly rips the door off its hinges in his haste to get out. When he's finally in the car, it's too quiet. He can hear his thoughts, he can hear his heartbeat, and how loud the silence is.

I will not cry. There is nothing to cry about. It isn't true.

Music blasts through the speakers, vibrating the car. Drown it out. Drown out everything. He drives and drives and drives till he is parallel with the ocean, till his ear drums are almost bursting with pain. There on the edge of a street is a bar. He stops, parking carelessly. It's ten am, no-one will be here for hours anyway. And he doesn't give a shit if they are.

He prowls in and sits down at the counter instantly, not bothering to take notice of the velvet couches, and leather chairs. Or the low, yellow lights, swinging overhead, and casting the room in a soft, buttery glow.

"Give me your strongest shit." His voice is rough.

"Bit early isn't it?" The bartender is playful but Percy isn't in the mood.

So when he looks up, green eyes glowing with danger, she immediately apologizes and gets to fixing his drink. Before she can set the glass on the marble-top, he's swiped it and downed the contents. He coughs at the fire blazing in his throat and then growls, "Keep em coming."

"Sir," She says softly, gently, he doesn't want her pity. "We're legally only allowed to sell three of those per customer, and not all at the same time."

"Well find something else. I need to get drunk. And fast." He isn't interested in reasons, he doesn't want to hear people. He wants to escape.

She sighs softly, but moves away to prepare his orders.

Percy shoots back whiskey, brandy, tequila, vodka, and everything else she gives him. By the time he's ten drinks in his head is blurry and his tongue is going numb.

"Sir, I think you should slow down."

He giggles, shakes his head, "No thanks. If I can't still hear my thoughts I'm not drunk enough."

Another glass is placed in front of him, amber liquid glistening in the dim lights. He drinks and drinks, until he can't feel his fingers and his mind is numb.

"Can I ask sir?" She looks at him curiously, "Why are you... What happened?"

"I don't know," He smiles, sloppy and distracted, "I mean I do know but it's not true."

"You're getting drunk off a lie?"

He ignores her question, staring into his now empty glass, "I was mean to my friend you know?"

"Oh is that why you’re here?"

"She said something that can't possibly be true. And I was mean to her."

"What did she say?" So much patience in her tone.

"She said," He hiccups, giggles, "Wait who?"

"Your friend? What did she say that made you say mean things?"

"Oh," He frowns, pushes his glass forward to get a refill, "Well it doesn't matter what she said because it's not true. But I told her I hate her."

"And do you hate her?"

Percy looks up then, tears streaming down his face, "Of course I don’t hate her. She's my best friend."

"Then why did you say that?"

"Why did I say what?" He murmurs, and then smiles, "How are you?"

"I'm fine thank you."

The bartender is striking, braids threaded with gold strains and gorgeous earthy skin.

"You're very beau— very beaufit— you're pretty. I hope someone tells you that everyday." His words are slurs and mumbles.

"Thank you." Her smile is beautiful too, gleaming white teeth and warm brown eyes.

"Do you have someone I can call?"

"Why do you want to call someone?" He pouts, "Am I boring you?"

"I think you need to have a nap."

He grins at her, black curls flopping into his face as he shakes his head, "I need another of that delicious drink. The blue one you made. I like blue things."

"If you can give me a phone number, I'll give you the drink."

He frowns, thinking about it, "Okay deal!"

And then he has a tall blue drink in front of him and she's moved to the other side of the bar, her phone pressed to her ear. He hears bits and pieces of conversation but he doesn't register anything. Instead he looks at the swirling glitter in the blue liquid, amazed by how it floats and sparkles.

"Okay," She comes back, "They'll be here in twenty."

"Twenty what?" He scrunches his nose in confusion.

"Twenty, minutes."

"Wanna know a secret?" He leans forward, motioning for her to come closer. "I'm very drunk." And that sets him off into peals of laughter. He almost falls off his chair but catches himself at the last second.

He gasps suddenly, and the bartender whips around, "What? What's wrong?"

"The stars are coming out! My boyfriend loves the stars."

"Oh, that's nice. The stars are pretty I can understand why he loves them."

"I love my boyfriend." Percy's smile is wide, and brilliant.

Just then a figure walks through the door. He squints to get a better look but can’t make them out in the blur of his vision, and the spinning room.

"Thank you for looking after him." The voice is raspy.

"He was entertaining, made my shift much more bearable at least."

"Well I'll take him off your hands." The voice reaches out a hand and places a stack of bills on the counter and then loops his arm around their neck.

"Can I ask?" The bartender motions to him.

"A friend died. He's not taking it well."

He can hear the wince in the stranger's voice, but he doesn't know why it's there. His eyes are so tired, he just wants to, to, to.....

Percy wakes up in his bed, head pounding like a hammer is doing gods work on his skull and his stomach is churning. He makes it to the bathroom with half a second to spare before he throws up all his internal organs, or that's what it feels like.

"How drunk was I?" He groans.

"Wasted. You drank for eight hours."

He looks up from the toilet to see Annabeth leaning against the door frame.

Annabeth...

His face crumples, "Tell me it's not true, Wise Girl."

And the shattering in her eyes confirms his worst fears.

He throws up again. And again. And again. And then he's screaming, crying, scratching at his chest. He can't breathe. He can't breathe. He can't fucking breathe.

"I'm sorry Percy." Annabeth's arms wrap around him, pulls him against her chest where he can feel her erratic heart and her shaking ribs.

He cries until he passes out. He hopes he never wakes up.

What's the point? There's no-one to wake up to.

His boyfriend is gone.

Jason Grace is dead.

#jercy fic #ciara only knows how to write jercy #PJSSG fanfic #PJSSG series #jercy #jason grace #percy jackson #prompt game #prompt fic #Ley asks

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initiatingtheheadcanons · 4 years

Text

Hello, anon! This took a while, here you go :D

Yes, I did this like a full-on oneshot because why not ;)

And I wrote this in midnight (bc I can’t sleep), please forgive me if it’s somewhat sloppy D:

Warning(s): Secret Smut ;)

----

You settled down your pen for once, stretching your arms up the air with a yawn. Your eyes glued on the portrait for your partner, sketch almost done. A few more shading and you are good to go.

You smiled and settled down your hands on your desk, picking the pen again to finish the drawing you’ve been working on for hours. You finished it and glanced at the clock at the wall, it’s already 11 pm.

You yawned again and smiled afterward, you can’t wait to show this to Medic. You stand up with the drawing on your hands and go out of the room you share together.

Medic will be in his lab up to 2 am or, at times, 3 am if you don’t drag him to the bed. He is usually cranky when he’s very tired but he lets you drag him to the room to rest. You peeked through the door first, he’s busy maintaining his Medi-Gun. You can’t exactly tell his expression as he is located on the far right of the room, his equipment settled on his table while grabbing tools from his cabinets.

You slowly approach him and you can hear him murmuring something in German.

“Dear?” You called him. Only Archimedes responded and flew to your view, perching on your shoulder as it greets you with a coo. You gave him a small pat using your finger, ruffling its feathers on its head. He cooed happily before flying away, back to its fellow doves.

Medic still working on his Medi-Gun, completely ignoring you or maybe that’s how you think? You tried again by touching him by the shoulder and he brushed you off. You felt a sting on your heart and it hurt, you still waited for him to say anything. He didn’t and you stormed off, almost crumpling the drawing you worked so hard for hours.

You pushed the door of his office aggressively with one hand, almost hitting Heavy in the process. You muttered a “sorry” to the big guy before heading back to your room, tears almost going to fall from your eyes.

Heavy looks confused at first but get it when he realized Medic is ignoring you. He understands the doctor could be cranky when he’s tired. The Russian sighs as he opens the door.

“Doktor?” He spoke gently to not startle Medic from his work, “You’re ignoring Y/N”

Heavy didn’t need to beat around the bush and Medic immediately stops on what he’s doing and turned around. His hair a bit messy and hands tainted with the mix of blood and oil.

“What?” he said, that came out rudely but he still continues, “I’m working”

“Doktor, you need to rest” Heavy insisted, approaching his co-worker, “It’s almost 12 midnight”

Medic sighed and checked his Medi-Gun one last time. “Fine, Kamerad”

“Y/N is in the room,” Heavy said as Medic pass by him, “Apologize to her”

“I will,” Medic said as the door closes behind him.

----

You wiped your tears furiously and sat on the bed. You made sure to keep the drawing on a cabinet and maybe show it to Medic some other time, he’s taking his time with his stupid Medi-Gun which seems important to him than you.

“Y/N??” Medic’s voice made you jump a bit and you glanced angrily at the door. You didn’t even lock it, why isn’t he coming in?

“Fuck off,” You said as you lay down, facing away from the door. You heard it creaked opened and closed.

“Y/N-” Medic tried to speak but you cut him off.

“Just work with your stupid Medi-Gun,” you said, your eyes glaring at the wall you’re facing, “It seems it’s important than me”

“Liebe, that’s not true,” Medic says wearily but you know he meant it. You didn’t say anything and an idea struck you out of nowhere. You sat and turned to face him.

He hangs the coat by the coat rack, his hair is a mess and his hands already clean, presumably he already washed off the blood and oil from tinkering his equipment. He removed his glasses and placed them on the desk before looking at you.

“Prove it,” you said and you watched Medic sit beside you and kiss you. You are taken by surprise, you took note that his kiss is a bit sloppy maybe because of exhaustion. He pinned you against the mattress, his body atop of you. You were undressed minus your underwear and he is planting kisses all over your body, you let out a small moan when one of his hands reach to massage your breasts.

He’s slower today but rougher, that thought passed by your mind before he gets himself undressed, letting his clothes fall off the edge of the bed. He left nothing but his boxers and you can’t help but stare at his obvious erection.

Your view was blocked by his face, kissing you again, tongues meeting carelessly and clumsily. He pulls your down panties reaching up to your knees and slid two fingers into your core, you let out a long moan and throw your head back. You feel his teeth digging into your collarbone as he continues to fingers you, mercilessly drawing his fingers in and out and you can hear the wet sounds it’s making.

You finally drag his hand away from your wet core and pull down his boxers, revealing his erection, already dripping off some of his pre-cum. He grunts as he inserts his inside you, you wrapped your head around his neck as soon as he bends forward. You felt his member go deeper and deeper inside you and felt his arms resting beside you.

Medic’s thrusts are rough, slamming into you without any signs of stopping. Your moans became progressively louder as you are close to climax. His thrusts became slower when you came and then pulled his erection when he reached his orgasm.

He plops himself beside you, both of you are panting for the next few seconds before he started speaking first.

“I hope that makes up for my apology” he says in-between his breaths. You turned to your side to face him, resting your head against his chest.

“I know you can’t resist me, darling” you said almost proudly, yawning. “I’ll show you something tomorrow”

It’s probably the best idea to show off your portrait of him by the morning. Right now, both of you are exhausted.

“Alright, my Liebe” He responded as he pecked your forehead with a small but sweet kiss. With that, Medic pulled the blankets on both of you and lay there as you two slowly fell asleep on each other’s arms.

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #tf2 imagines #team fortress 2 #team fortress 2 imagines #medic x reader #lemon #requested

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Ladrien/Marichat: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Thirteen

Read it on AO3: Drunk Ladybug on My Balcony? Yeah. This is Fine.: Chapter Thirteen: The Revelation

“Here we are. Safe and sound,” Ladybug announced with forced chipperness as she set Adrien back down in his room.

Reluctantly, he removed his arms from around her and stepped back, doing his best to put on his own fake smile.

“Today was really fun,” he remarked with a lightness he didn’t feel.

“Yeah,” she agreed enthusiastically, but the joviality didn’t make it to her eyes. “I had fun too. I’m so glad you enjoyed it.”

“I did,” he affirmed earnestly. “It was really great, and I seriously appreciate you going to the trouble of organizing all that for me. I’m never going to forget today.”

“Me either,” she whispered, a bit of the false cheer wearing off, revealing the bittersweet melancholy hiding below the surface. “I had such a good time getting to know you better.”

“Me too.” He braced for impact as he added, “We should do it again sometime.”

She winced, averting her eyes. “Adrien… I’d love to, but we can’t. It was madness for me to even think of dating you as Ladybug in the first place.” She looked back to him with pleading, desperate eyes. “This is too dangerous. Like I said before, I don’t know what all Papillon is willing to do to get to me, but…I would never forgive myself if my selfishness and carelessness got you hurt. We’re lucky no one recognized us today and posted pictures where Papillon could see and start targeting you.”

“I know,” he sighed, gaze dropping to their shoes. “I don’t care about the risk for myself, but…I would never want to bring that kind of guilt on you if something did happen…. This wasn’t a good idea.”

“No,” she agreed softly, stepping in closer and taking his cheeks in her hands, making him look at her. “But today was the best mistake of my life, Adrien Agreste, and I can’t bring myself to regret it.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, letting himself get entranced by her swirling, sea-like eyes.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, smile infused with light and warmth and love.

“Well,” he chuckled, taking heart in looking on the bright side. “At least you can still ask me out as a civilian. This doesn’t have to be the end.”

Her smile flickered and faded as her brow pulled into a conflicted frown. “Adrien…I don’t think that’s possible now.”

Her words were like a cold shower, sending a jolt through his system.

“Wait. What? Why not?” he demanded, a whine creeping into his voice.

She gazed at him sadly, shaking her head. “What are you going to think the next time some black-haired girl comes up to you and asks you out for coffee? You’ll know it’s me right away, and that can’t happen. I have to keep my identity secret at all costs, not just for myself and my own safety but for the safety of all of Paris and the Miraculouses and kwamis in my keeping. I have to think about the bigger picture,” she informed him ruefully, feeling the weight of her yoke of duty then more than ever. “I can’t just think about myself…so this has to be the end of this. I’m sorry, Adrien.”

It occurred to him that he could simply ask Marinette out, but the unfairness of the entire situation agitated him.

“If you’re not allowed to think about yourself, who’s going to?” he challenged. “This isn’t right. It’s not fair that you have to bear such a heavy burden alone. I know what it’s like to have to keep secrets from everyone, Ladybug. It’s exhausting and isolating, and, after a while, it makes you feel like a bad person because you feel like you’re always lying to everybody in your life. I don’t want that for you.”

He eyed her pleadingly, willing her to relax her guard and let him in, let him be there to help support her.

“I don’t really want that for me either,” she admitted with a tired sigh, tears beginning to build at the corners of her eyes. “…Sometimes it just can’t be helped, though. I’m sorry, Adrien, but I can’t do this. Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she begged, just barely managing to resist the temptation he offered.

He could see her on the edge of breaking, but pressing her further felt wrong and manipulative. He didn’t want to push her into something she would later regret, so he backed off with a soft, “Okay. Sorry.”

“Me too,” she whispered, her hands dropping to take his and give them a squeeze. “…Maybe the stars will align and we’ll get to date someday.”

“Maybe I’ll find you and ask you out first,” he hummed impishly.

“Please don’t try to find me,” she entreated, feeling sick with worry. “You can’t know who I am.”

He bit his tongue, knowing that it would only scare her off to tell her he already knew.

“Kiss me,” Adrien pleaded.

Ladybug blinked, startled by the urgency in his voice. “What?”

“If this really has to be the end of things between us, can’t you at least kiss me? You said that you wanted to earlier. If we can’t be together, can’t we at least have this much?” he reasoned. “Give me a kiss to remember you by.”

She worried at her bottom lip as she studied him carefully, weighing her options.

“Please, Nelle?” he whimpered, and his yearning gaze nearly did her in.

Reasoning that one kiss couldn’t hurt, she stepped in, taking his face gently in her hands and bringing it down to hers.

She’d intended the kiss to be brief and sweet like cherry blossom petals floating on a river, but she did not anticipate the spark she felt inside of her when her lips met his.

It was like an electric zap radiating through her body from the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair, and, judging by the way he gasped into the kiss, Adrien felt it too.

What Ladybug had intended to be a chaste brush of lips quickly devolved into a sloppy, hungry crush of lips and tongues and teeth and hands.

Before she could really think through what she was doing, she’d pushed Adrien back and down onto his couch and was on top of him, seeing what kind of noises he made when she bit, licked, or sucked on different parts of his neck and throat. She quickly found out that he purred when she massaged his scalp, and the sound only encouraged her.

“Wait,” Adrien gasped, getting a hold of himself several minutes later.

She lifted her head and blinked blearily down at him, mind hazy with hormones. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t lie to you anymore,” he groaned. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t what you want, but things have gone too far and gotten out of control. I can’t keep secrets from you anymore, My Lady.”

She opened her mouth to seek clarification, but he alleviated the need by calling, “Plagg, transform me.”

In a green flash of light, it was Chat Noir beneath her on the couch in place of Adrien.

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated, eyes begging for her forgiveness. “I shouldn’t have agreed to go on a date with you right after we’d just talked about waiting to start a romantic relationship until it was safe, but…when you showed up to ask me out, I figured that Adrien must have been your mystery boy all along, and it was just a dream come true, so…I should have said no, but I didn’t. I’m sorry. You know I think with my heart far more often than with my head.”

Ladybug did not respond right away. She was too busy gaping at her partner with her mouth hanging wide open as her mind bluescreened.

“Please say something,” he pleaded through a grimace, starting to feel ill. “I can tell you’re not taking this well, but—”

She cut him off with a guttural curse.

He blinked at her for a moment, and then a sly grin slowly curled up the corners of his lips. “On a first date? I’m sorry, but I’m a little old fashioned. You’ll have to marry me first.”

“Oh my God,” she groaned, covering her face with her hands as she had a mental meltdown.

He winced. “Sorry. I really am sorry. …On a completely serious note, are you okay?”

A muffled, “No,” leaked out through her fingers along with very Marinette-like sounds of despair.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I just…I really did understand earlier when you were talking about it being unfair to Adrien, him not knowing your identity. I felt guilty for keeping this from you this whole time, but I knew you didn’t want to know, so…” He shook his head. “But I couldn’t keep lying to you. …Sorry for messing things up,” he summarized dejectedly, ears drooping.

“…Do you hate me?” he whispered, half afraid to learn the answer.

She dropped her hands down to her sides and looked at him with eyes full of sorrow, compassion, regret, and love. “Chaton, I could never hate you. Ever,” she stressed, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “In fact, I think I love you now more than ever before.”

“O-Oh,” he choked, so happy it was hard to breathe.

“And you didn’t mess anything up,” she assured with a cloudy smile. “I did.”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “Detransformation.”

In a swirl of pink, Marinette appeared, wearing the same blue dress as she had their last movie night.

A broad grin stretched across Chat’s lips as he sat up, taking her face in his hands.

She hesitantly peeked one eye open and was surprised to find him beaming at her like she had arranged the stars in the night sky. She blinked, noting, “You don’t look surprised. Or angry.”

“Because I’m neither, Princess,” he chuckled, running a hand down the side of her face, neck, and shoulder. “What better outcome could I hope for than for the two girls I’m crazy about to be the same person?”

“And, let me guess,” she snickered. “You’re not surprised because you were able to see Ladybug in your ‘Everyday Ladybug’?”

He bit his lip. “Actually…it was more like suddenly seeing Marinette in Ladybug earlier today when we were browsing in the Place du Tertre.”

The grin dropped off her face. “What?! Wait. What?! You figured out my identity?!”

He made a half-hearted, wobbling gesture with one hand. “I mean…sort of? I didn’t know for sure until just now, but…”

“Oh my gosh. All those questions you were asking!” she gasped as she mentally reviewed their day from that point.

He winced. “Yeah, well…I mean…”

She slapped his arm, and not in a fun, playful, joking away. “I can’t believe you! You were purposely trying to figure out my identity!”

“To be fair, I had already figured out your identity,” he reasoned, hoping she magically accepted this loophole and decided not to be mad at him. “I was merely seeking confirmation.”

She smacked his arm a second time, clearly not amused at his semantics.

“Hey, you’ve been in love with me for years and never said anything,” he whined, trying to shift the focus off of himself. “To Adrien or Chat Noir. If anyone has the right to be upset, it’s me.”

“I had my reasons,” she spluttered indignantly, hoping he wouldn’t ask for the receipts. “It’s not like you told Marinette you had a big, ridiculous crush on her either!”

“I’m sorry,” he snorted. “I just thought it was painfully obvious to anyone who listened to me rant regularly about how amazing and talented you are. If you’d shown interest in return, I would have gladly confessed to my gigantic crush on you, but, unfortunately, someone has been lying to my face the past seven years about how they’re not interested in me, they’re just a fan of my father’s work,” he returned with a sour pout.

“You are literally a model,” she whined in her own defence. “I thought you’d laugh in my face.”

“Princess,” he cooed, reaching up to stroke her face. “Who could say no to you?”

He leaned in to give her hair a reassuring nuzzle. “Marinette, you are the most awe-inspiring woman I know. You’re kind and brave and funny and gorgeous, and I would have to be a bigger fool than I already am not to fall deliriously in love with you.”

She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as she whispered, “I’m so sorry, Minou.”

“Shhh,” he comforted, pulling her in closer. “I’m sorry too. Maybe…can we try to accept that we both screwed things up and attempt to move beyond this?”

“…Yeah,” she decided, giving a little nod. “What’s done is done, so let’s just try to do our best going forward.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed, savoring the warmth of her body pressed to his, her sweet scent.

Earlier, he’d catalogued them in sorrow as she carried him back home, wondering if he’d ever get to experience them again. Now, he took stock in joy, planning to appreciate these sensations for years and years to come.

Suddenly, Marinette pulled back with a gasp and stared at him wide-eyed. “What are we going to do about akuma fights?! We just talked last week about how every second counts and how romantic feelings could cloud our judgment and get in the way in battle. What are we going to do now?!”

He grimaced, beginning to massage her shoulders in hopes that it would help her calm down. “My Love, I’ve had feelings for you for years now, and you just told me the other night that you’d loved me for almost as long. We’re going to have feelings that could potentially get in the way no matter what. We’ve had those feelings all this time, and I think it’s been pretty okay. I mean, I know I’ve sacrificed myself more times than you’re comfortable with, but the point is that we’ve managed all this time, haven’t we?”

“I guess you’re right,” she reluctantly agreed, slowly coming to see that what he said was true.

“Yes, we could have a fight or, God forbid, break up, but I’d like to think that our friendship and our partnership is strong enough to see us through, so…we’ve gone years suffering through trying to suppress our feelings, I, for one, would like to try making a romantic relationship work,” he suggested timidly, mentally crossing his fingers. “Who knows? Maybe when we stop holding ourselves back, we’ll be a better team than ever before. Want to give it a try?”

She didn’t need to think about it. “Yes. Definitely. Yes.”

“Really?” he laughed in joy and relief as his wildest dreams came true before his very eyes.

She nodded enthusiastically, joining in his laughter. “Yes. Really, really.”

He surged forward, capturing her lips once more in an exuberant kiss of celebration.

This one was more playful, less heated, but still full of fireworks and emotion.

Several minutes in, Marinette pulled back and glared at Chat Noir. “Heeeey. You sneak into my bedroom. Adrien Agreste sneaks into my bedroom.”

He quirked an eyebrow, wondering at the relevance of this revelation. “Technically, you invite me in. I always knock, even when the skylight is open.”

“Adrien Agreste has seen the inside of my bedroom,” she groaned in embarrassment, covering her face with her hands and letting out a moan of misery. “You’ve seen me in my laundry day sweatpants!”

He rolled his eyes fondly, gingerly taking her hands in his own and prying them away from her face. “Princess, look at me.”

She did so, her cheeks stained red as realization after realization informed her of all the unflattering sides of her he had seen.

“It’s just me,” he soothed. “Just your big, stupid cat, and I think the world of you.”

She pursed her lips, considering this for a moment. “…Yeah. You are, aren’t you?”

He nodded encouragingly. “Remember that time I got my tongue stuck to that lamppost?”

She burst out laughing, accidentally spraying him with spit which he gracefully wiped off, not minding in the least.

“Oh my gosh,” she giggle-snorted. “You did. You’re such a dork!”

“Your dork,” he confirmed.

“My dork,” she hummed and went back to kissing him.

They didn’t make it ten minutes before the next outburst.

“I tried to give you the Snake Miraculous!” she gasped.

Chat’s ears flattened. “We’re going to be having moments like this for years to come, aren’t we?”

“What the hell were you thinking?!” she demanded.

He shrugged. “You said you needed Adrien. I’m stupid in love with you. Emphasis on the stupid.”

She frowned, debating on her reaction. His reasons weren’t exactly good, but they were flattering, so maybe she could forgive him.

He took the liberty of kissing the crinkles from her brow. “Later, you’ll have to tell me how you pulled Multimouse off because I’m dying to know, but, for now, could we maybe kiss and snuggle? Maybe watch some movies?”

She instantly perked up. “Can we have a Disney singalong? I’m sort of in love with your voice.”

“Just the voice?” he asked again with a teasing eyebrow waggle.

“All of you,” she informed softly, leaning in to press a butterfly kiss to his lips. “…But your voice in particular.”

“I can live with that,” he cackled, pulling her back down onto the couch with him.

Alya and Nino were lounging on her bed watching X-Men: Apocalypse when her phone buzzed.

“Why are you grinning like you just got the biggest scoop ever?” Nino inquired cautiously, lifting a suspicious eyebrow.

“My ship has sailed!” Alya cheered, nearly jumping for joy. “Adrien and Marinette are dating! Aaaaaahhhh!!! This is the best day ever!”

Nino frowned, pausing the movie. “Wait. Adrien’s dating Marinette or Ladybug? They should still be at the Eiffel Tower, right? Did she tell him her identity? Did he tell her his?”

Alya’s mood immediately plummeted. “Hold on. Let me figure this out.”

She shot quick texts to Marinette and Adrien, asking if they’d revealed their respective identities and who was dating whom.

“Okay. Full identity reveal. Everybody is dating everybody,” Alya reported with a contented sigh, sinking back down onto the bed. “These two are exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” Nino snorted. “Why do they have to be so complicated?”

Alya shook her head. “Thank God Marinette locked us in the panther cage, right?”

“We never really thanked her for that, did we?” Nino snickered.

Alya shrugged. “Meh. I’ll work it into my maid of honor speech at her wedding. I consider my debt paid in full after all the identity shenanigans I’ve had to put up with getting her and Adrien together. I single-handedly defeated the Love Quadrilateral. My job here is done.”

“Awesome work, Al,” Nino chuckled, leaning in to give her temple a light peck.

The

End

17 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

No Strings Attached, Chapter 1 (Willaska, Bitney) - Albatross, Veronica

AN: New life, new university, new friends…what more could Alaska ask for? Following the end of her relationship with Jinkx, Alaska has decided to pack up and move to a new college…on the other side of the country. Nothing like a bit of space to get over a break up, right? As she settles in for her new life, Alaska must navigate her new surroundings and of course, her new roommates with some very strong personalities of their own. A collab with the amazingly patient VeronicaSanders. This series is going to have two separate stories. The Willaska chapters will be labeled 'No Strings Attached' and the Bitney chapters will be labeled 'Off Limits,' and both will be labeled with the series tag, 'Just Friends.'

Here’s to a new life, Alaska thought as she paused in front of her new dorm building. It was simple, modern-looking, but it felt like so much more than that. Here she could start over and forget about the mess she left behind after her last semester of classes. The crying, the loaded silence…the isolation.

No, she argued, shaking her head before resuming her path up to the open doors, I am not going to think about that now. I am not going to ruin today.

The lobby was huge and busy. Tables were lined up, only three, surprisingly, by last name and absolutely crowded with people waiting to receive their room assignment and key. Already most of the staff looked fairly put on. At least four of them were running around, shouting directions, asking for updates and trying to answer students’ questions all at once. It was chaos…and Alaska was absolutely excited by it.

As she took her place in the queue, she pulled her two suitcases in as tightly as possible. All too easily she could see someone tripping over them and hurting themselves…or making a mess of all the new clothes she bought just for this semester. She was trying to reinvent herself. That’s what people normally do after an exhausting breakup, right? Perhaps not move across the country but they treat themselves. She went the whole nine yards; new clothes, new hair, new school. And if she had to say…she thought she looked pretty damn good. The blonde suited her and while the clothes would still take some getting used to; they were cute. She could definitely follow through with this.

Steadily the line began to move forward. Staring out at the crowd in the meantime, Alaska watched frenzied students in amusement. Some were frazzled, others content and relaxed, some dead tired and one or two…hungover? Typical college students, Alaska noted with a smile.

“Hey!” someone shouted in irritation.

That caught Alaska’s attention. It wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened; the one who cried out had just had her foot run over by the luggage being dragged by the newest arrival. Some flashy girl in a shimmery dress and the shortest hemline Alaska had even seen off anything that wasn’t considered lingerie, on Move-In day!

“Yeah, sorry,” she replied back, not even turning around. Doubtful.

She was something, Alaska observed with a disdainful look. Honey-colored locks tussled into messy, beachy waves, fell across her tanned shoulders as she briskly cut through the crowd towards one of the check in tables. With every movement you could see the subtle toning of her legs and ass, all highlighted by the skimpy garment and skyhigh heels that seemed to walk on air. She was the kind of girl used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it, and with no hassle. This was obvious in the way she marched straight up to one of the volunteers and introduced herself, “Hi, I’m Willam Belli. I’m in 414, can I please get my keys?”

The woman looked at her as incredulously as Alaska would have. But clearly she had more patience than most as she calmly pointed out, “Miss, there’s a line.”

This girl-Willam-glanced back at the queue beside her and replied, “Oh, I know. But these guys don’t mind, do you?” A wink was sent in the direction of some of the closest guys, jocks of course, and immediately Alaska knew that Willam had won. They all folded so easily and conceded their place in line to her. Turning back to the volunteer with a triumphant, smug little grin, she repeated, “Willam Belli. In 414.”

What a fucking psycho, Alaska thought to herself as she watched the scene played out, Lord help her roommates.

Having received her key, Willam spun herself around to go lay claim to her dorm room. She was almost out of sight and out of Alaska’s mind when a high-pitched squeal cut through the crowd.

“Bill!” came the excited call.

The owner of the voice was an ecstatically grinning little blonde girl practically bouncing on her heels as she raced through the lobby. Her eyes were crinkled with pure joy and her smile was warm enough to melt ice. Probably running after her boyfriend - oh, wait. Not quite, Alaska soon found out.

Much to Alaska’s, and most everyone else’s, shock, this girl dove straight into the arms of Willam, damn near knocking her over in the process. “Courtney, you bitch, this is fucking Prada!” despite the intent of feigning irritation, even Willam couldn’t hold back a wide toothy grin of her own. She settled for impatiently smoothing out her dress as Courtney fluttered her lashes and simpered, “I’m sorry, I just missed you. It was so boring here, spending the whole summer without you!”

Aussie…cute.

Willam laughed at this, pinching Courtney’s sides until a happy little squeal escaped her. “Have the other cunts arrived yet?” She asked, grasping the handle of one of her two suitcases.

“Nope,” Courtney beamed back, sticking her tongue out for just a moment. “You’re the first cunt.”

“Thank god. Now we can get settled and leave the other room for them.” Rolling her eyes, she added in, “I hope they aren’t boring assholes like last semester.”

“Omigod Bill, stop,” Courtney giggled, then glanced over to the pair of suitcases next to Willam. “Is this everything you’ve got?”

“Ha! You wish. My car is crammed full. Actually, make yourself useful and go grab some shit.” She tossed her keys to Courtney and grabbed the other suitcase, throwing in a casual, “Car’s out front. One of those spaces with the little blue sign.”

Of course she’d park in a handicapped spot, Alaska groaned to herself.

Even Courtney was not as forgiving of that action. “Bill,” she scolded.

“I’ll move it later,” Willam promised with an airy smile. “Everything else was just too far!”

“You’re the worst. Absolute worst ,” Courtney shot back with a grin. Pressing a sloppy kiss to Willam’s cheek, she said, “Good thing I love you though.”

With that the pair separated and by then Alaska was fourth in line. She shook her head as she tried to push those two far from her mind. Nothing she needed to worry about now, she told herself. With any luck, her new roommates would be quiet or at the very least, fucking sane.

After a few more minutes, Alaska was handed her key but as she looked at the accompanying card her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. 414.

Fuck!

******

“You serious about these curtains, Bill?” Courtney asked, one eyebrow raised, holding up the fuschia sequined curtains that she’d found on South Street. She looked at them doubtfully then handed them back to their owner. They were deliciously tacky and Willam absolutely adored them.

“Yes!” Willam argued, unable to believe Courtney couldn’t see how absolutely perfect they were for their room. “They’re amazing.”

“Sure…” Courtney laughed, continuing to help her unpack.

“Listen, just because you have no creativity or sense of fun-”

“Excuse you, I am plenty creative, you wanker! It’s just that some people like their bedrooms, where they sleep, to be, you know, soothing .”

“And you’re totally entitled to your boring opinions. But I-” Willam stopped abruptly as a figure rushed past by their propped open door. “Uh, hello! May we help you?”

Willam swore she heard a sigh before the girl appeared again. Tall, platinum blonde, a slender, willowy body to die for - which appeared to be news to her by the way she slouched, face almost totally obscured by giant sunglasses.

“Hi, I’m assigned to this apartment,” she droned flatly.

“And you were just planning to creep in without saying ‘hi’?” Willam challenged, delighted when her pale cheeks reddened slightly. A faint smile was curling on the edges of her lips as she added in, “That’s nice.”

“Omigod, Bill, shut up!” Courtney exclaimed, elbowing her in the ribs before bounding towards the door and pulling the new girl into a hug. “Hi, I’m Courtney. That’s Willam. You can ignore pretty much everything she says.”

Trying to politely weasel her way out of the unwanted hug, the new girl replied, “Um, hi. I’m Alaska.”

“Alaska! What a cool name! Is that where you’re from?” Courtney’s eyes shone with genuine, well-meaning curiosity while Willam’s gave a dramatic roll. Not that she really expected anything less from Courtney but the whole Nice Girl routine got to be real tiresome, real fast, especially when it was with everyone she met.

Alaska’s nose scrunched up a little as she answered, “No, I’m from a little town in Pennsylvania-”

“Really!? So’s Bill! What a small world.”

“Philly isn’t a small town, dipshit,” Willam grumbled.

Finally a smile began to form as Alaska stifled a laugh, adding in politely, “Nice to meet you guys. I’m just gonna go put my things down…”

“Yeah, of course!” Courtney said eagerly, “We’re gonna head to the quad for some lunch in a bit, will you join us?”

Alaska paused, thinking it over for a moment, then mumbled out a non-committal, “Oh. Yeah, maybe.”

“Courtney, when you’re done licking Alaska’s asshole, I could really use a hand with these suitcases,” Willam said, a hand on her hip. She was starting to feel antsy.

“Yes, your majesty.” Courtney stuck her tongue out at Willam, then turned back to Alaska to add, “You should really come! We can show you around and get to know each other.”

“Sounds great.”

Hard to believe that was sincere, Willam thought.

*******

Somehow Courtney managed to convince Alaska to join them and she ended up having a better time at lunch than she thought. The food certainly helped but she still was struggling with her growing sour mood. She was starting to have second thoughts about coming here, wondering if her move was really the right decision. It all seemed so busy and crowded here but she tried to tell herself that it was just because it was Move-In Day. Once classes start and everyone gets into their own routine, it’ll be quieter and more spacious …she hoped.

Willam and Courtney chatted away easily enough but they already knew each other from previous semesters. They tried to include Alaska in the conversation as much as possible but they had their own little in-jokes and she couldn’t help but feel like an outsider at times.

It’s all part of making new friends, she told herself, And I have to live with them for the rest of the school year. I have to make this work.

But all she wanted to do right now was just crawl into bed and nap for a good long while so she didn’t have to think about everything.

By the time the three arrived back from lunch, the fourth roommate had finally arrived. They found her sprawled out along the couch with an arm folded over eyes and the traces of an annoyed frown already on her lips. The second she spoke, Alaska felt a growing sense of dread form in the pit of her stomach.

“Great…I’m living with a bunch of bottle blonde bitches.”

The comment rattled her more than she’d like. Despite her initial thoughts that it looked undetectable, at least for now, she was starting to worry her decision to bleach her hair just looked ridiculously fake and stupid.

Her trepidation deepened as the girl sat up and asked, “So who’s hideous leopard duvet is that?”

Oh, god, this year is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?

But while Courtney broke into a case of the giggles, Willam slung an arm around her shoulders and spoke, “Calm down, bitch. Some of us are garbage pails with hideous taste. We’re still people.”

She hadn’t realized it was so obvious she was getting irritated.

But one thing she noticed, for those few brief seconds Willam was leaning into her, was that she actually felt sort of comfortable. At least more than when Courtney had tried to hug her right out of the gate. But that was neither here nor there. Her focus was largely on the way Courtney seemed determined to ask the new girl-Bianca, she found out soon enough- any question that came to mind.

It was kind of sickening actually. In the same way as when you stuff your face with your favorite sweet, then five minutes too late you realize you’re way too full and the candy suddenly tastes like it’s choking you. Definitely something like that.

Willam and Alaska shared a look of mutual disgust but much to Willam’s surprise, it looked like Bianca was slowly starting to break. Strange, she expected someone that abrasive (much like herself) to have held out longer. But Courtney did have a sort of magic charm. It worked on her two years ago after all, and it seems this new girl would be no exception.

A few more questions, some teasing, and Bianca relented enough to at least partially apologize for her snarky comments. “So. I had kind of a shitty morning. I was actually about to jump in the shower. I’ll probably be in a better mood after that.”

That was probably the best they could hope to get out of her. “Well, that’s a relief,” Willam quipped, earning a short, snort of a laugh from Alaska.

It sounds kind of nice to hear her laugh, Willam realized.

An agreeable smile came to rest on Bianca’s face as she admitted, “I deserved that.” There was a slight nod to her head as she added in, “So I guess I’ll go…do that.”

She took one last glance at the group before standing up and walking back towards her bedroom. Despite the initial impression she gave off, Willam felt she was something of a kindred spirit. A toothy grin appeared on her lips as she stated all too loudly, “What a cunt.”

She would swear she heard a soft chuckle echoing from the hallway and that just made her smile even brighter. This girl was definitely going to be some fun. The joke however, went over Courtney’s head and quick enough there was a light slap on her arm as Courtney scolded her, “Bill!”

Willam rolled her eyes, grin still present, as she shook her head at Courtney’s obliviousness. Continuing to huff, Courtney added in, “I like her.”

“Clearly,” Willam teased, tickling her sides. “Why don’t you go make my bed?”

“Make your own bed, dickhead!” Courtney shrieked, giving her a playful shove.

Even still, Courtney eventually relented to helping Willam as she made her bed, it did go faster with two people after all. Following that, they spent the better part of the afternoon organizing all of Willam’s extensive wardrobe as much as possible. Space was limited so they had to make due with what was available. Even with Courtney offering up an extra drawer to use, it still wasn’t quite enough.

As the pair got on with that, Alaska took the chance to do some more unpacking of her own. There never had been much of a process to her organizing, but Alaska always knew where everything was, or at least where it should be. Organization didn’t mean much to her, she’d often forget any pattern she’d set up anyway, but as long as there was a designated spot, she could find things as she needed them.

Although, as she looked over Bianca’s clean and hyper categorized belongings with a skeptical gaze, she couldn’t help but wonder if she shouldn’t try to make a bit more of an effort. At least for right now. Their room looked almost like one of those before and after pictures you would see in an ad for a cleaning service. Everything Bianca owned had its own space, hell, it was even labeled, and Alaska’s…well, it made sense to her and that’s what mattered, right?

However, when Bianca came back from her shower, Alaska did promise to keep her side contained. It was the least she could do after seeing a flash of alarm on Bianca’s face as she took a closer look at Alaska’s half of the room.

“You fucking better,” she warned, her smile taking out any bite to the remark.

Alaska couldn’t help but laugh. Slowly but surely, Bianca was starting to grow on her. All of her roommates were, she realized. It still felt weird but in time she was sure she could settle into a new norm. For now, she just had to push herself along until things fell into place.

******

A few minutes later, Willam and Courtney burst into the room to inquire how she and Bianca were getting on.

“How are you ladies doing?” Courtney asked brightly, “Bonding?”

“Oh, yeah,” Bianca quipped, shifting around from her place at her desk, “Our periods are already in sync.” She twirled the curling iron in her hand at almost the same speed at which her eyes rolled.

Alaska laughed, unable to help herself. She was really starting to appreciate Bianca’s sense of humor.

Courtney found herself a place to sit on the floor, watching Bianca style her hair with interest, while Willam unceremoniously collapsed onto Alaska’s bed. A tired, muffled groan was heard from where she collapsed face first into the sheets. She played up her exhaustion as she rolled over with a great, strenuous effort but Alaska could see there was some truth behind her acting. Willam barely moved an inch after she turned over, even after Alaska scooted aside to give her more space.

“How disgustingly primal,” Willam spoke distractedly. Her eyes darted around the room with an air of suspicion as she inquired, “Is your room bigger than ours?”

Alaska looked at her with a certain degree of skepticism, because of course the rooms were the same size. If there were a difference, Willam would have already claimed the larger room, she had no doubt about that.

Turning to Courtney, she found her roommate had some sort of explanation for the inane question, “Bill’s pretty pissed about the closet space. I gave her one of my drawers, but…” she shrugged nonchalantly, nudging and pulling on Willam’s foot until there was a lighthearted kick in her direction, “Some people are just never satisfied.”

Thinking to herself for a second, Alaska found herself offering, “I have an extra drawer, too.”

It felt like all eyes were suddenly on her as a sense of self-consciousness began to creep in. She wasn’t entirely sure why she made the offer but she did have the space, she reasoned. Why let it go to waste?

Bianca, however, felt inclined to ask, gesturing to one of the jumbled piles of belongings sitting atop Alaska’s dresser as she did so, “You sure you don’t want to use that for some of the stuff that’s…”

“Nah, she can have it,” Alaska answered with a sweet but taunting smile. It’d be her good deed for the day.

Immediately, Willam started to perk back up. With a bit of careful maneuvering she might just be able to stuff the rest of her wardrobe into that extra drawer. But that wasn’t the only thing that left her cheerful, it was also that Alaska had volunteered her extra space. Perhaps she was starting to warm up, after all. As her tired mind pondered over how to go about arranging everything, she heard Bianca asking, “So…not to be a wet blanket on all this delightful female bonding, but…where can a bitch find some decent vegetarian food around here?”

Glancing up to Bianca with a tilt to her head and a curious gaze, Courtney questioned, “You’re hungry?”

“No,” Bianca replied, all but rolling her eyes, “Just thought I’d buy some food and throw it at seagulls. Yes, I’m fucking hungry.”

Courtney and Alaska immediately broke out in a state of giggles but Willam was actually the one to find the strength to answer her, “Decent shit is mostly downtown…but edible? There’s the cafeteria next door, the salad bar over by the biology building, food court in the quad, the-”

“No, Bill,” Courtney interrupted, swatting lightly at Willam’s leg. “Let’s get something different. Something better.”

Sighing heavily, with an eye roll to boot, Willam propped herself up in order to get a better look at everyone, particularly Courtney. “Fine then, cunt,” she huffed, “Where do you suggest we eat?”

Courtney sat silently for a moment, running through all the local dining options she could think of. Alaska was glad for this distraction. Despite being surrounded by her roommates, a growing wave of loneliness was starting to rise in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure where this all was coming from but immediately she recognized that little could be done to push it away. She just wanted to be alone right now more than anything.

The three discussed some sort of idea Courtney proposed but Alaska was barely listening. She was trying to stall the negative emotions, at least until the others left, but she was far from succeeding. It only left her in a very distracted, half-aware state where she had to struggle just to recognize that someone was speaking to her.

“Alaska?” Willam asked, “You in?”

“Uh, I’m not really all that hungry,” Alaska declined as politely as she could. “You guys should go.”

Cocking her head to the side, Willam inquired doubtfully, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Alaska lied, “I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

Concerned, Courtney leapt to her feet and crowded Alaska with motherly intent, “Oh no! Do you need something? I have magnesium supplements. Or, peppermint oil! That’s great for headaches!”

“Or, if you want something that actually works,” Bianca muttered, “I got Tylenol and Advil…”

“I’ve got Vicodin,” Willam added in. “And weed.”

Touched but finding the attention far too smothering, Alaska declined with a simple, “Thanks guys, but I think I just need to lay down for a while.”

“Okay,” Courtney agreed, beginning to usher everyone out of the room, “We’ll leave you alone. Let us know if you want us to bring you back any food.”

“Thanks.”

Alaska watched gratefully as everyone slowly slipped out of the room. Only Willam spared one final glance back at her; one of vague skepticism, but kept any comments she might have had to herself. Now alone, Alaska waited patiently until she was sure everyone had left the apartment before pulling herself from the bed in order to run a hot bath. Usually a bit of self care would help but even as she soaked in the fragrant, bubble filled tub, she just felt miserable. Her mind wandered back to everything she left behind; the professors she adored, her friends…Jinkx.

She missed her ex. So much more than she realized before and now they might as well have been on opposite sides of the galaxy with how far Alaska felt from her. She toyed with the idea of texting her, even opened up her contact information, but something in her prevented her from sending off even a simple ‘Hi.’

No, she was sure Jinkx must be busy too, settling in for the new semester. Alaska shouldn’t bother her right now. The best thing to do right now was just sit in the bath, try to relax, and failing that, just turn in for an early rest.

Yeah…at least then she could forget about her heartache…just for a little while.

#rpdr fanfiction #willaska #bitney #alaska thunderfuck #willam belli #courtney act #bianca del rio #college au #lesbian au #fluff #angst #eventual smut #eventual romance #friends to lovers #no strings attached #just friends #albatross #veronica #submission

9 notes · View notes

shreddedparchment · 5 years

Text

Man and Wife Pt.07

The Great Divide

04/19/2019

Pairing: Bucky x Reader Word Count: 11,985

*Masterpost in Notes Warnings: language, smut, unprotected sex, infidelity, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, PTSD, violence, so much fucking angst in this one y’all

A/N: I have never been so terrified of posting a chapter before. After the last chapter’s feedback I wanted to make sure to address some of the things that were stressing you guys out. I already knew how it would play out but your feedback helped me realize how much clearer I needed to make it so I created a whole new scene that I hadn’t intended to include. Hopefully you guys will forgive my babe, Casey. This is the big one guys, the one I have been writing and leading and building this relationship up to. I hope I do it justice because I really want it to be worth the journey you guys have taken with me so far. This is the chapter that I pictured when I decided to keep writing this story. I hope you love it--or hate it in the right way--as much as I do. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

“Right here, baby.” Bucky slaps the mitts he’s wearing together, a loud slap, slap filling the room and reverberating back towards you.

You wince. Timid little shit that you are. You’ve never been in a fight before! And here you are facing off with your very large, very strong, threatening mechanical armed husband.

Deep down you know that he would never hurt you but just seeing him face you his hands held in front of you waiting for your punch, you blink, terrified. He’s not even wearing actual boxing gloves like you are. Why are you so scared?

Get a grip, Y/N! You shoot out towards him, a sloppy right hook towards his left hand and you aim too low. Your glove scrapes the bottom of his and you go flying towards him.

Several gasps reach your ears. Bucky catches you, opening his arms so that you fall backwards into him, having twirled around with the momentum of your punch.

“You okay?” He asks, his deep voice pooling with worry. He’s trying to keep it contained but it’s coming out of him in waves.

“Yeah.” You reply, your voice meek and soft as you eye the absolute crowd you’ve drawn into the gym.

Steve and Sam are standing beside the punching bags as they had already been in the gym when you and Bucky had arrived. Wanda had come to meet you, for moral support of course, and sits on a weight bench a good distance away.

Some time, while you had been training, Vision had joined her. Tony and Bruce are huddled by the treadmills. And Natasha and Rhodey are having a quiet exchange, both of their eyebrows drawn together as they eye you and Bucky with concern.

Bucky hikes you back up onto your feet, his arms underneath yours. He turns you and places his mitt covered hands on the sides of your shoulders, trying to reclaim your focus.

Why are all the Avengers in here watching you? This is embarrassing. You suck.

“You sure?”

You chew your lip but nod.

“Okay then. Let’s keep going.” Bucky suddenly says and your eyes finally find his. He holds his hands up again and you move back so that you can retake your stance and you thrust forward once more, aiming your weak punch to meet their target.

You do it over and over. Punch after punch after punch. You miss more than half of them. You trip twice over your own feet, and once Bucky catches you the other, Sam shoots forward and manages to make it so that you land on him and not the hard floor.

When you can barely keep your arms up, Bucky moves onto your legs. He makes you kick and kick and kick. Higher and higher though you can barely reach the base of his chest. You fall a few times here too, but Bucky is quick to dive for you and two times Steve steps in to catch you.

You’re at it for hours, straining to keep going because Bucky still looks perfect across from you. He’s not sweating. You are. You’re drenched. He’s not winded. You are. Your shoulders are heaving, rising and falling as you struggle against the exhaustion you’ve never felt before in your entire life. You never work out. You sit in chairs and read books. This kind of activity has your stomach rolling and it feels like that one time you and Casey had raced down the street in high school and you’d stopped to hurl because while Casey ran track, you’d preferred to write for the school paper.

“Buck maybe-?” Steve, trying to intervene on your behalf.

“Again, Y/N.” He’s firm but still gentle in his coaxing. “Come on, baby, you can do this.”

You blink, sweat burning your eyes as it drips down your forehead.

You shake your head. You can’t feel your legs; your arms are appendages made of what feels like TV fuzz when there’s nothing to see on a channel. White noise.

“I can’t.” You tell him.

“Yes, you can, Y/N. Come on. Just a few more punches.”

“Bucky, no. I can’t.”

“Yes. You can, kitten. Punch me.”

“I’m tired.”

“Punch me!”

“No!”

The gym freezes and all sound seems to vanish as your and Bucky’s shouts echo around you.

“I’m tired! I can’t do this anymore.” You head for the door, struggling to pull the Velcro strap from around your glove but you finally manage it and you’re so eager to pull off the other you just yank the it off.

It pulls painfully around your wrist and you hiss as you drop the glove and stop walking to look at the skin bruise. There’s a rush of feet behind you at your quiet exclamation of pain and you turn to watch as Sam, Steve, Bucky, and Nat all come rushing towards you.

“You okay?” Nat asks.

“What happened?” Sam gasps.

“Is it bad?” Steve wonders.

“Let me see.” Bucky exclaims, the closest, he reaches out and takes your forearm.

You yank it back and turn to head out of that stupid gym and away from the terrible feeling of inadequacy that it provoked in you.

“Y/N…” Bucky calls after you softly and he follows.

You try and walk fast but your legs are so tired that they buckle beneath you and Bucky races to catch you before you can fall.

“I’m sorry, I should have let you take a break. Or…started slower? Next time we’ll-”

“Next time?” You ask, fear and anger turning your blood cold and your eyes wide as you look at Bucky and push him away. You need space. “There isn’t going to be a next time, Bucky.”

“What do you mean? I know I overdid it a bit, but you did really great for your first time. Next time it’ll be easier, and we’ll do less. It won’t be so hard-”

“Bucky.” You speak a bit more loudly so that you can talk over him. You’ve had a problem speaking your mind with him and right now, you’re adamant in making sure that he hears you. “I will not be doing this again. This isn’t who I am.”

“This isn’t about it being about who you are, Y/N. This is about you being safe when I’m not around. Now, with everyone knowing that someone who knows the Avengers lives in our building, it’s important that we make sure you can take care of yourself.”

“Then we can do it some other way because I am not doing that-” You point back at the gym door. “-ever again. I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“This isn’t an option, Y/N. You need to do this. You need to be able to at least put up a fight.”

“No.”

“Y/N!” Bucky pleads, his voice rising as his face begins to turn lava red.

“This isn’t who I am, Bucky! If you wanted a fighter, then maybe you should have married one!” You push past him and make a beeline for the bathroom because you can feel it coming.

Stumbling with noodle legs inside, you throw yourself over the toilet and wretch up your entire lunch.

This is definitely not a memory you had been hoping to make at the compound. You’re crying by the time you finish throwing up. You wash your face, determined to hide the stains on your cheeks from crying and the way hurling has made your eyes red.

Your legs are still noodles as you walk back out of the bathroom. Bucky’s standing beside the door, holding up the wall with his arms crossed over his wide chest. He drops it when he sees you and rushes back to your side.

You can already see the regret in his eyes. Your chest just about caves in. He must have heard you throwing up.

“I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to make you sick. I-”

“Don’t worry about it, Bucky. It’s not your fault. I’ve just never been very athletic. I can run if I have to but working out? It’s never been my thing.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“I said don’t worry about it.” You don’t want to feel guilty about being useless in this department and yet, you do.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Bucky…” Your voice is already strained with annoyance as you ready yourself for another shouting match. Why can’t he hear you telling him to drop it? Why does he have to press it and make you feel worse? You know that he’s sorry. You know that he only did it because he was worried, but you suck! You really do. You’re no good at this fighting thing. You’ve failed him.

Your husband needs only one thing from you to feel that you’re safe when he can’t be at home and you can’t give it to him.

“Buck!” Steve’s voice floats down the hall, a panicked cry as he races towards the two of you.

Normally, you’d be eager to kill him for interrupting but just this once…

“What?” Bucky turns towards him, but he reaches back, and you take his hand. Fighting aside, this is precious time with Bucky that you suddenly feel might be ripped away from you.

It’s been a month since you and Bucky had the team over to the apartment and you’ve spent more time away from him than with him. It sucks but you get that they’re still chasing the same guy they’ve been chasing for almost half a year.

Who he was? What he’d done? You have no idea. All you know is that Bucky is worried about him coming to look for you—or technically him and just happens to find you.

“We gotta go.”

“Ffff…” Bucky lets the curse trail into nothing, and he squeezes your hand. He doesn’t want to leave you.

You’re not sure why but it’s getting harder to tell him bye. And today, after just having fought?

“Go, Bucky.” You tell him, squeezing his hand in return.

He turns to you and it’s so routine to just kiss you and leave that it surprises you when Bucky pulls you aside, away from Steve.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything, Buck.”

“I need you to text me.”

“What?”

“Just a few times a day. Once when you wake up and once before you go to sleep. I might not be able to respond every time but at least I’ll know that you’re safe in bed or safe and out.”

You’re about to protest because you’ve made it all this time without such assurances however, the frantic fear in his steel blue eyes takes your breath away.

“Okay.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” Bucky leans down and presses his lips against yours desperately. “And I’m sorry.”

“Go.” You push him, shaking your head because you don’t want to go back to talking about your training.

“I love you.” He declares and kisses you one more time.

You kiss him back, cherishing the soft plush of his lips before he’s pulling away, taking his sweet flavor with him.

“I love you too.”

He backs away from you and only when he reaches Steve does, he turn and head back down the opposite way at a run with Steve.

“Where?”

“Siberia.” Steve tells him. “The base where we found Zemo.”

“Why there?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Then they’re out of earshot and you can no longer hear them.

There’s a pounding on your door. You look up, startled by the sudden sound and set your manuscript aside. Well, not your manuscript. You’ve never done any extensive writing yourself. Just a few small pieces here and there that you’ve kept hidden where no one might read them.

Who would be coming here? Now? Day three of Bucky being gone. The entire team, actually. You’ve avoided the news because you’re not interested in what you might see.

You stress out enough watching them fight on the news after he’s home. You don’t need to see it while it’s happening.

You’re a little bitter as you make your way to the door. You’d just managed to get yourself to stop worrying about Bucky and Henry has been texting you nonstop to see if you’re alright because he’s watching the news and things apparently “look bad” for the Avengers.

He’d finally stopped texting you when you text him back in all caps;

Y/N: WILL YOU JUST STOP TEXTING ME?! I DON’T WANNA KNOW HOW CLOSE BUCKY JUST CAME TO GETTING DECAPITATED!

Henry: Sorry. I’ll stop. But if you need anything. I’m here.

And then a few moments after that, you shot Bucky a text. Just in case.

Y/N: Baby, text me as soon as you can. I’m worried. I just wanna know you're okay.

The bitterness hits an all time high when you press the small display by the door to see who it is on the other side and spot Casey teetering nervously on her heels.

Goddangit. With a sigh you unlock the door and pull it open then walk back towards the dining table. You sit back down on your chair with your feet balanced on the edge of the table as you pull your manuscript back onto your lap.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” Casey accuses the moment she’s stepped inside. She makes sure to lock the door. Maybe if the two of you were only friends then you may have told her to go away, but Casey is like your sister. This connection won’t be severed easily.

“Really?” You ask, voice easy but razor sharp with hostility. You’ve never been this angry at her before. Not even when she borrowed your mom’s dress and accidentally tore it.

Casey makes her way to the table and drops a small drink cradle with two coffees, still hot. Winter is finally here, but only in spirit. There is no snow yet but Thanksgiving’s around the corner and the season has fully changed.

The bitter aroma of java and the sweet hint of cocoa makes your mouth water. As much as you want that coffee though, you’re not going to touch it.

“Hey, quit your shit and tell me what’s going on. You haven’t answered any of my calls and you sure as hell haven’t returned any of my texts. Why are you mad at me?”

“For someone who threatened to kick Bucky’s ass if he hurt me, you seem unconcerned about the fact that you’ve been helping him do it.”

“Me? Wha-?” She blinks, shocked and stunned into silence. For a minute Casey stands with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

She pulls the nearest chair out, slams it into the floor, and sits. “Explain.”

“Explain what?” You snap.

“Explain what you mean, Y/N because I’m seriously flummoxed here. How the hell have I been helping Bucky hurt you?”

“You were there, Case! You were at those stupid dinners and those parties after they came home from mission. I never thought you’d keep that from me. Didn’t you ever wonder why I wasn’t there with Bucky?”

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” Casey realizes. “Y/N…I-I thought you knew. I thought-”

Casey takes a deep breath as you stare at your manuscript, refusing to meet her green eyes because if you do, you just might cry.

“I’m going to start at the beginning. Okay? Because I hate it when you’re mad at me. It feels like death.”

“Fine.” You reply curtly.

“The first time I went to one of their after-mission dinners, Sam was so exhausted we snuck off to his room. I saw no one that night. The few after that, we did hang out with the team, but Bucky wasn’t there.”

“Wait, what do you mean he wasn’t there?” Where the hell was he? He wasn’t at home!

“I mean, he was there but he wasn’t in the den with us. He’d come in and grab some food and then disappear. At first, I just thought he was maybe grabbing some food to go, to come here. I mean he grabbed enough food to feed four people.” This assumption makes sense for Case. She doesn’t know how much Bucky can eat. “Then one night he came out a second time and I asked Sam why Bucky didn’t hang out with the rest of the team and he told me that Bucky usually needed some time alone after a mission. I was going to go ask him why he wasn’t just going home or why the fuck you weren't there with him but then Natasha stopped me and told me that Bucky was dangerous after a mission if he didn’t unwind the right way. To give him space. I guess she saw where my mind was at, on you, and she assured me that Bucky deliberately kept his distance until he knew he was safe. For you.”

“Dangerous? Dangerous how, Case?” You’re sitting up now, slowly lowering the manuscript back onto the table as your feet find the floor.

“See, I asked her that and she said that on really bad days he can get violent. Not intentionally, but it’s like he has flashbacks? And he just…reacts. One time apparently, just after he’d joined the team, he broke Steve’s arm.”

A shocking wave of pain makes your heart stutter as you remember the things that Steve told you. The way Bucky lost his arm, what they did after that, the torture, the theft of who he was, and you can see how flashbacks to that time of his life might prompt unexpectedly violent reactions.

“Anyway, she said that Bucky locks himself up in his room for a little while to make sure it’s not one of those days and if he’s okay then he’ll come home. She said that other times he just gets really irritable and he tends to pick fights. Not physical fights but he’ll nitpick or make mean little comments. She said it’s a type of-”

“PTSD?” You ask, looking down at your hands because you can’t help but picture Bucky struggling alone, and you hate it. You can also remember each time that Bucky probably forced himself to come home earlier and that might have been why you and he would bicker over the dishes or the clothes you left in the room unfolded.

“Yeah. You two have seemed so happy lately that I was sure that things were getting better? Sam told me that Bucky’s made huge leaps in improvements since he met you. He’s been coming home sooner, and he’s been starting his decompressing on the jet. Secluding himself from the team. And he was calling you more? I didn’t know that he had been struggling so much and I…I thought you knew, Y/N which is why I never mentioned it.”

You shake your head, unable to find the words, and sorry that you took this anger out on Casey. It also really irritates you that all of this could have just been avoided if Bucky had said something. He has a right to struggle and deal with it on his own if that’s what he needs but you should at least know what he’s dealing with. You don’t have to be there; you just need to know that he’s okay! Damn him.

“And you never brought it up, so…damn it, Y/N, why didn’t you tell me you’ve been struggling?”

“And admit that Bucky and I are struggling open communication? That it feels like he's keeping me at a distance? I didn’t want to say it out loud. If I say it out loud…then, it's real.” You lapse into silence, slowly shaking your head. “I’m sorry, Case. That I’ve been ignoring you. I just got so angry after I saw how well you knew Thor and the rest of the team when I hardly knew them, and I’m married to one of them.” You confess. “Shouldn't I know them better?”

“Well, Sam’s a lot more outgoing than Bucky is. He invites me out when he and someone from the team get together outside of work. Not all the time but when he knows I’ll enjoy it. Never when he works out which is, I think when he spends most of his time with Bucky.”

From what you know of Bucky, the only time he goes out is really just to do that, work out or train.

“I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to push you away. I mean, I did but now it kinda sucks because it wasn’t your fault. This whole marriage thing is much harder than I ever thought it would be.”

“Y/N, you married someone you hardly knew. It was always going to be a shitshow getting adjusted to a whole other human being, especially when all you got to see were Bucky’s good parts. Now that you’ve seen some of the bad, now that you know he’s not always happy and charming, do you regret marrying him?”

“Of course not!” You protest the very thought of regretting your union. Marrying Bucky, even upset as you are now that he was going through all of that and keeping it from you, is the best thing you’ve ever done.

“Well, there you go. I guess you really do love him.” Case proclaims. You smile, feeling a bit better, at least with Casey. “Here. Have some coffee. Just like you like it. Extra shot of espresso and an extra pump of white chocolate.”

Casey grabs one of the coffee cups and places it in front of you.

“No. I shouldn’t.” You shake your head, but your smile is still in place and this seems to please Casey so that her own smile doesn’t falter.

“Yes, you should.” Case argues and pushes the cup towards you.

“No. I’m alright.”

“Y/N, just drink the damn coffee so that I feel like you’re not mad at me anymore.”

“I’m not mad at you anymore but if it means that much to you, how about you go get me a glass of milk and we’ll pretend it’s the coffee you bought me?” You offer gently and push the coffee away again as you lift the manuscript back onto the table.

“What the fuck, Y/N? Why won’t you just drink the damn coffee?” Casey wonders, annoyed that her gift isn’t accepted.

“Because you put an extra shot of espresso and I probably shouldn’t drink caffeine at all if I’m pregnant.”

Casey bursts into laughter. It’s loud and she throws her head back, her whole body shaking with her laughter until her eyes find your shy smile and you look down at your hands, neatly folded on your lap.

“Wait…you’re serious?” She stops laughing. “You’re pregnant?!”

“Bucky and I have been really careful. Well, except for two times. One right before we got married and once right after but since then we’ve used condoms every single time. I…I guess one of them broke?”

With a shaky breath you chuckle, and you wonder which time it was. Not that it matters. It’s just funny that for all the care the two of you took to keep this from happening, it happened anyway. You’re surprising calm about it. Like a sense of peace has found its way into you, calming your most frantic of nerves.

“Holy shit! Congratulations!” Casey pulls you into a hug and you laugh into her shoulder. “I mean, you are happy about it, right?”

“Well, it’s not exactly planned but yes. Sooner than I was hoping but if it’s time, it’s time. I can’t wait to meet this baby, Case.”

Casey’s arms tighten around you. “I’m so happy for you, Y/N.”

“Thanks.”

Casey pulls back and she does look very happy for you. Her eyes are twilight Caribbean sea sparkles, her cheeks and ears flushed, and you can see that little smirk that she always wears when something unexpected but exciting happens.

“Does Bucky know?” She wonders.

“No. Not yet. I only found out yesterday. I’m going to wait for him to come home to tell him and then we’ll make an appointment and go see the doctor together.” You’re absolutely overflowing with anticipation to share the most amazing news you’ve ever received yourself with the only person in your life that matters more than your adoptive sisters.

Bucky is going to be so happy.

You’ve been sitting on Casey’s couch, frantic with worry because two days have passed since you asked Bucky to text you and he has still not texted you.

Tempted to turn on the TV, you fled the apartment, Bucky’s ‘Barnes’ handgun safely stowed in your handbag—just in case.

Being at Casey’s is only slightly soothing. Your right hand gently rubs your tummy, nervous tic? Or a subconscious reminder that you’re pregnant? You don’t know yourself. What you do know is that you are out of your mind with images of Bucky’s broken and lifeless body laying on some road somewhere foreign.

The TV in Case’s living room suddenly turns on and the screen is filled with helicopter cam footage of large explosions. You catch a glimpse of Tony and Rhodey flying above a pair of buildings each only about ten stories tall. On the roof are two men, fighting, one wearing a sleek black Avengers uniform, his dark hair wild in the wind. The second, just as large and just as tall, wears torn and tattered rags in various shades of gray and brown.

They’re moving so fast and swift that your eyes struggle to keep up. Several other things are going on inside the buildings and around their base. You can see Wanda and Vision working on a group of black clad men. Natasha is fighting a woman at the base of the other building, throwing punches and kicks at speeds that embarrass your feeble attempts at learning to fight. Steve’s shield flies out of a window, Sam catches it as he rounds the building and then throws it back before diving inside with a splash of glass.

“Oh my God.” You gasp, terror freezing your heart and making your stomach turn.

“What the fu-? Damn it, Lisa. What did I say?” Casey yanks the remote out of Lisa’s hand—her roommate with long dark hair and rail-thin build. Her skin is slightly sallow and pale and her lips oddly full for her teeny tiny frame. “No TV! Go away.”

Lisa rolls her eyes and grumbles as she walks away towards the kitchen.

Casey shuts off the TV and you’re left sitting, quite literally at the edge of your seat, with your hand pressed tight to your stomach and your hand clutching hard to the soft plaid green fabric of your shirt.

“I’m sure they’re fine, Y/N. They have to be fine.” The worry in Casey’s voice reminds you that she has a horse in this race too and with a shared worried look, the two of you slip into silence.

The next day is no better. You’d spent the night glancing at your phone, hoping against all hope that Bucky would text back, but he never did. You stayed up until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any more and relief came only when there was a loud knock on your door.

You stumbled up, half past noon, and finally pressed the panel beside the door. It sprung to life and you jerked back as a pair of bright green eyes, right up against the lens of the camera, crinkled as the person they belonged to smiled.

“Let us in, mopey. I got a text from Sam.” She holds up the phone to the screen and although the message is a little long, two words jump out at you.

Bucky’s fine.

You unlock the door and yank Casey’s phone out of her hand as she moves inside, closely followed by Jess and another one of your friends. One of the girls that had gone to the Ocean Dome with you.

Though she’d been crazy enough to moon the cars behind you on that day, without the two other girls—the apparent bad influences—she was much sweet and smiled as she walked in.

“Hey, Y/N. Wow, your house is beautiful!”

“Thanks, Hali.” Though you’re not even looking at her as you scroll through Casey’s messages and ignore Casey’s nudes as you look for Bucky’s name in more of them. You know Casey’s body almost as well as your own. Curse—or blessing?—of growing up together.

Hali and Jess move into the kitchen carrying insulated wine bags and another bag with snacks while Casey makes a grab for her phone.

“Alright, that’s enough of that. Gimme my phone back, mopey.”

“Is that all he said?”

“Yes.” She finally manages to snatch the phone away from you and you look for her face. “He said they were probably not coming back soon. It might be a really long one this time, Y/N.”

Your heart drops. You’ve never been away from Bucky for more than a week and even that was stressful. Your own phone dings and you race back into your bedroom to get it.

Henry: Hey, just checking in. I’m at the office but if you want some company, I can come over?

You frown, disappointment making your bones feel brittle and like a good smack would snap them all into pieces.

Y/B: Casey and Jess are here. I’m fine. Thanks anyway.

“Bucky?” Casey asks, she’d wandered in after you, looking the bedroom over with eager eyes.

She’s never been in here. In fact, no one but you, Bucky, and Steve have been in the bedroom.

“No. Henry.”

“Oh my God! Is he still after you?”

“He’s not after me Case.”

“Tchyeah, okay. You keep telling yourself that. That dude’s got such a boner for you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“And how’s that?” You sigh, irritated with yourself for even responding to Henry. But you can’t help it. It’s a habit. Four years…that’s a long time to be close to someone. And you know very well that if you don’t reply he’ll only continue to text.

“Like he’d like nothing more than to give you the world.”

Casey’s words send your head spinning and you stare at her with your mouth slightly agape. What do you say to something like that?

“And like he wants to fuck you into next Tuesday.” Casey grins at you and moves over to look at the pictures of you and Bucky on your dresser. When she smiles at them, she’s much more genuine. “These are cute.”

She picks one up and stares at the picture of you and Bucky on the sofa, the first day you moved in. His smile is too wide, forced but his eye are bright with playfulness and the excitement of everything new. All the promises of the future open to both of you. He’s got his metal arm around your shoulders and he’s holding you in a semi-headlock while you laugh, eyes shut, as you hold his metal wrist.

“That’s uh…” You’re still reeling from Casey’s words about Henry, so it takes you a moment to find your voice. “It’s from the day we moved in. I was tired and Bucky saw it before I even said anything. He forced me to sit down on the couch and he wouldn’t let me get up. Then he grabbed his phone and snapped that picture. We made out for like…an hour after that.”

You smile, Henry completely driven from your mind. The smile shifts, twisting down into a pout as your eyes water.

“I can’t lose him, Case.”

Casey’s at your side instantly. “Don’t be stupid. He’s strong, babe. And Sam said he’s safe. Sam wouldn’t lie.”

You nod, hating the pit in your chest where Bucky usually is when he’s home. You want him home! And now they’re expected to be gone for a long time? How long? Another week? A month? Two months? You’re pregnant and you haven’t told him yet.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You know she is.

“You’ve been shut up in here since you came home yesterday afternoon, haven’t you?” She eyes the nest of blankets and the single shirt that Bucky last wore while he was here at home. You’d slept with it pressed against your face. You’re not ashamed and you nod.

“You need a break. We brought some drinks and some chocolates and some other snacks that you like. How about we go get our minds off the boys?”

“But I can’t drink, Case.” Your hands find your stomach and you give it a small rub.

“The wine is for us. You can drink the sparkling cider we brought. But, before you can drink, you seriously need to shower, and change. We might not be going anywhere but that’s no excuse to look like the monster from the black lagoon.”

You scoff, typical of her to point out what a mess you look in the mornings. And yet, Bucky hasn’t complained once…of course, that might be because he’s always gone when you wake up.

Ugh…a shower might be just what you need.

A shower was definitely what you needed. You felt much better after you got cleaned up and dressed yourself in a pair of ratty old jeans, rolled up to mid-shin and then topped with one of Bucky’s light gray sweaters. Even the clothes that he hasn’t worn smell like him.

The day passes in a flurry of girl-talk, binging on sweets, and drinking not just alcohol. After dinner, Jess finally busts out the wine. She’s still heavily pregnant but nearly ready to pop and like you cannot enjoy in the decadence of the red wine that Casey had picked out. Hali is already drunk of course.

As ten o’clock rolls around, she’s taken to laughing loudly at the silly jokes that Jess makes. Jess smiles, slightly annoyed, but slightly entertained by how easily she can make Hali laugh now that she’s drunk.

“Jess? I thought you were due this week?” You wonder, sipping on your sparkling cider, carefully poured into a champagne flute to make you feel like you can still party. Jess thinks nothing of it, or if she knows that you’re pregnant, she says nothing.

“I am. I was. This brat will not come out. She’s clinging to my uterus like a fucking koala.”

You chuckle.

The four of you have settled around the sofa. Jess is sitting in the orange armchair, laid back with her hands on her massive belly. Hali is sitting with her back to Jess now, legs extended across the sofa, her feet on Casey’s lap. You have chosen to sit at the end of the coffee table. You have easy access to your glass of sparkling cider and the carpet is actually pretty comfortable.

“What did your doctor say?”

“That she should just be patient. But when the fuck has Jess ever been patient?”

“She waited for me to get dressed and I took forever.” Hali offers, slurring her words as she speaks. She’s so far gone.

“Thanks, Hal, but I meant for something longer than a change of clothes.” Casey clarifies.

“Have you tried anything? To induce your labor?”

“Jeff and I fucked like a couple of rabbits this morning before the kids woke up. Didn’t work.”

“Is that supposed to work?” You ask, your giggles bubbling up towards your chest.

“I don’t know. But it was fun.” She grins at you, wide and Cheshire like.

You throw your head back and laugh, Casey simply smirks and shakes her head. You really hope that you and Bucky are still that into each other after so many years of marriage. Jess’s eldest is just about ten.

The four of you talk, exchange stories for another hour, and you’re still shaking with laughter at Casey’s explanation of how her roommate’s boyfriend likes to walk around naked when a boom at your front door startles your heart straight into your throat.

You scurry onto your knees while Hali, Jess, and Casey all sit up straighter and look towards the front door with you.

Your fear has lodged your heart up creating a lump so that you can’t properly swallow but you somehow manage to swallow it down as relief takes the place of your fear.

“Bucky.” You gasp quietly, your love and worry mingling to create a pained moan of his name.

It takes a second for the bliss of suddenly seeing him to pass. You hadn’t been expecting him after all. He was supposed to be gone for a long time according to Sam and Casey but here he is, looking…well, he looks pissed. His brow is furrowed, dark dilated eyes stare at the four of you. He’s dirty, covered in smudged dirt and dried blood. His uniform is torn in several places and his flesh hand, wrapped tightly around the handle of his duffel bag is shaking.

“Bucky?” You push yourself up further onto your knees and watch as he turns his glare towards your friends. He slams the door shut, making all of you jump, and without a word he stomps across the entryway and down the hall where the bedroom door is shoved open so hard you can hear it hit the wall of the room and then slam shut once more.

“Y/N?” Casey asks, worried.

You’re not hearing her. You’re on your feet and following after Bucky. You open the door slowly and take a careful gander around the room until you spot him yanking out used clothes from his duffel bag and throwing them into the hamper by his dresser.

Each movement is sharp, sudden, and furious. Even from across the room you can feel the rage radiating off his body. Should you leave him alone? You don’t want to leave him alone. You’ve missed him and you’d been so worried. So out of your mind with scenario after scenario of what might have been happening to him.

Then he never texted you back and-

“Why is the clothes still sitting on the chair?” He gripes.

“Bucky is everything okay?” You probe gently, careful with your tone and your word choice. He looks like he literally just came home from the mission and if what Casey had told you was right, if he needs time to settle after a mission, today he didn’t get it.

“Why didn’t you text me last night?”

“I did!” You protest the idea that you hadn’t texted him. Didn’t you? Shit.

“I asked you for one thing, Y/N. One gawdamn thing and you couldn’t even do that.”

“Hey!” You argue, raising your voice to match his volume. You’re not going to be chastised like some irresponsible child. “I texted you yesterday and asked you if you were okay because I was worried, and you never messaged me back. I stayed up half the night waiting for your reply and it never came.”

Bucky turns to look at you, his eyes still black, seething pools of bubbling pitch. It burns and scars your heart, this rage aimed at you.

“Oh, what? Was I supposed to stop mid-fight and text you back?”

“Don’t be stupid, Bucky. I have never once made it seem as if I expect you to put your fighting aside for me.”

“No. You just cling and suffocate me while I’m home.” Bucky growls, turning his back on you to pull more clothes from his duffel bag.

His words hit you like a slap to the face. Where is this coming from? Is that what he really feels? No. No, this is his PTSD talking. That meanness that Natasha had told Casey about. He doesn’t mean it.

You try to calm your pounding heart, pushing the sharp ache away because you need to get through to him. You have news for him. Good news. Should you tell him now?

“You know, I cut the mission short, for you.” He spits, gesturing towards you with his right arm. “You never messaged me, and I was out of my fucking mind thinking that after we lost him in the city he’d come here, to get to me through you. Then I come home, and I find you yucking it up with your friends?”

“Bucky…” You plead, you just need to get a word in.

You laugh bitterly, edgy biting laughter as his words sting harshly. “Excuse me? You’re hardly here at all, what do you mean you’re here twenty-four seven? I’ve spent more time with Henry while we’ve been married than I have with you.”

Bucky punches the bedframe at the sound of Henry’s name, and you jump, startled by the violence.

“Don’t you dare say his name in this house.” He mutters, low and guttural.

“Bucky, what is this? Where is all this coming from? It’s just a misunderstanding! I know I didn’t text, but I was so wrapped up with waiting for you to text that I didn’t think that-”

“That’s right! You didn’t think. Instead I went two days without hearing from you and I was so certain that you must have been taken or killed that I raced back here breaking all protocol to make sure that you were safe. I just spent the last six days getting shot, blown up, punched, and fucking magicked around the city and you’re here at home laughing with your gowdamn pals!”

A quick and almost inaudible knock cuts through the tension of the room. A moment later, the door opens just enough for Casey to poke her head. Her eyes are wide and worried as they pass over Bucky and stop when they find you.

“Hey, we’re gonna go.”

No…fuck. “Case,” You begin, worried not only for Casey but Jess and Hali too.

“It’s okay, I’ll call you later, okay?”

“No, Case, you don’t have to go.” You turn to give Bucky a glare before moving after her out into the hallway. When you reach the living room, you can see Hali and Jess already standing by the door with their coats on.

When they see you and Casey they move out into the hallway.

“Casey,”

“Y/N. Really, it’s alright. You two need some space. If you need me though, call me.”

She gives you a tight smile and shuts the door behind her. You stare at the metal, chest aching and stomach turning. What must Casey have been feeling to leave like that? Normally she would have been jumping in to defend you, to fight this fight for you. But it’s not her fight and you can see why she felt she needed to go.

“Good. They’re gone. Now I can have some peace and quiet in my house.” Bucky’s voice grates your nerves, his little comment lighting a fire in the pit of your stomach.

“Your house?”

“I paid for it.” Who the fuck is this guy?

You turn to look at him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. “What did you just say?”

Maybe he finally sees how serious this whole thing has become because he doesn’t repeat his words, and yet he keeps his eyes on you, unwavering in his temper. His eyes are still black, so dilated that there is no hint of his cool blue. His stare, his narrowed brow and the way he clenches his metal fist tight, is unnerving. You’ve never been afraid of Bucky before but in this moment, this brief moment he’s not the man you married. Who the hell is he?

Bucky would never have spoken words to deliberately hurt you.

The words tumble from your lips with no coaxing. Like they’ve been waiting to be said for a long time. They fall so easy that it scares you how simple it was to open your mouth and say them.

“Maybe we got married to soon.” You ponder, looking down at his chest.

As sad as you are to say these words, you don’t expect the pain that follows when Bucky agrees with you. “Yeah. Maybe it was all a mistake.”

You meet his eyes again and he’s still staring at you with that cold stare. Unwilling to let him see you cry, you turn your back on him and after a minute, you hear him leave. The bedroom door shuts again and after a few more minutes, the shower comes on and you finally move towards the sofa.

You cry for a bit, drying your tears as they fall.

This isn’t Bucky. This isn’t Bucky. This isn’t my Bucky.

You repeat these words in your head over and over, trying to convince yourself that this isn’t happening. Your lip trembles as you place your hand on your stomach and rub it slowly. Marrying Bucky…you’d said too soon because even right now, you don’t regret marrying him.

Should you? Should you wish you hadn’t? With this baby coming and all the good moments? Does this bad one outweigh all of that? Perhaps it doesn’t. But you feel like shit now and all you want to do is curl up in bed and forget this night ever happened.

Almost an hour later, when your tears have dried Bucky’s form pulls your attention to the entrance of the hallway.

He’s showered but not dressed for bed. Jeans and a tight black long sleeve. Brown boots on his feet and his hair pulled back into a bun, higher than he normally wears it. He’s pulled it back carefully, styling it in the most minimalist of senses. A few dark strands of hair frame his bearded face and his eyes…you can see some blue now.

He shoves his hands into his pockets as he stares at the floor. “Steve just texted. Tony’s ordering some food and drinks. We lost Elias after he escaped into the city sewers and there’s no sense in searching until he pops up like he usually does so, so we’ll wait.”

“Who’s Elias?” You ponder, not really asking him but asking him at the same time. If he doesn’t answer, you don’t care.

When he answers he’s slightly exasperated, like you should know this already. “The bastard we’ve been chasing for near on six months, Y/N.”

You bristle at his tone. This isn’t your fault! “Well excuse me for not knowing. You don’t tell me shit, so how am I supposed to know who the fuck Elias is?”

Bucky shuts his eyes, straining against whatever anger he’s trying to keep contained. It sucks to see him struggle, swallowing hard to keep his calm. “You should go change so we can go.”

You look down at your hands, slouched against the couch, you fiddle with your thumb nail, scraping off the already chipped red nail polish. “I’m not going.”

“What?” Bucky asks, dark confusion rolling across his tongue.

“I’m tired. And I’m not in the mood to be around people. You go. I’m not going.”

You get up and make to move past him, but he grabs your elbow. Not hard, he doesn’t hurt you, but he’s keeping you from walking.

“What do you mean, you’re not going? You wanted this. You asked me for this. You wanted to be included so I’m including you.” He reminds you.

You reach up and push his hand off of your arm. “I said, I don’t want to go.”

“You’re going, Y/N. You’re my wife. You need to go.”

Your eyes widen, hadn’t he just said it was all a mistake?! And how dare he order you to do anything!

“No.”

His hand tightens around your arm, still not painful, but the pressure is intense.

“You’re going.”

“No, Bucky, I’m not. You expect me to follow you to the compound, hang around your friends, and play the dutiful wife after the way you just treated Casey and Jess? I will not go, and you can’t make me.”

“Damn it, Y/N, I need you there.” He insists and you yank your arm from his but he’s blocking the way to the bedroom with no intention of budging, so instead you turn around and head out the front door without a second glance back.

Bucky’s drunk. Thor is such a bro for bringing the good stuff with him.

Though Bucky isn’t quite sure how he manages to make liquors and beers that actually make him, and Steve feel it, he’s forever grateful. Today especially.

As Bucky empties his fourth glass of sweet sugar-honey whiskey—or he thinks it might qualify as whiskey, it has the same feral bite—he reaches up to wipe at his eyes, pressing the heel of his hand hard against his them turning his vision into swirling multicolored splotches in the blackness.

No matter how much he presses, he can’t erase the image of you walking away from him. Practically running. He can’t blame you. He was a downright dick to you. He didn’t mean the things he said but he said them all the same and he saw the way you cried because of them.

“Bucky, you alright?” Steve asks and claps Bucky’s shoulder. “Where’s Y/N? I thought you said you were going to start bringing her?”

“Steve, do you ever wonder if you’ve fucked something up so badly that there’s no possible way of fixing it?”

Steve slowly lowers himself into the seat beside Bucky, leaving his hand on his friend’s slouched back.

“Something happen with Y/N?”

“Yeah. I opened my mouth.”

“Where is she, Bucky?” Steve asks, a chastising quality to his tone.

“She left me.” Bucky says simply. “She walked away from me.”

“Buck, I’m sure Y/N didn’t leave you. She loves you. No matter what you do or say-”

“It was different this time, Stevie…I really fucked up. I said things I-I didn’t mean…or…maybe they’re things I don’t want to mean.”

Just one thing. That maybe marrying you was a mistake. He still can’t believe he said it. He wants to go back in time and shoot himself in the head rather than say that to your face again. Of course, it wasn’t a mistake. Or…or was it?

It could never be a mistake for him. You’ve given him stability and a reason to wake up every day and try harder to get over this darkness that perpetually haunts him, plaguing his life with ruin.

Since you’d come into his life, his nightmares had all but left him. But you…

You’re so small, so fragile. You should be protected and kept safe but it’s so hard to do that. It’s so difficult to take care of you when Bucky can’t even look after himself. He’s a mess. He’s still struggling so much with Hydra’s brainwashing. Maybe it would be better for you if you were with someone else?

“Buck, whatever you said, I’m sure Y/N knows that you didn’t mean it. And if she doesn’t, then you need to show her that you didn’t. It’s time you stop being such a dumbass and get your shit together Buck. For Y/N’s sake if not for your own. She depends on you.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees. “I think that’s the problem. I’m not dependable.”

Steve is about to argue when Tony’s voice calls out to him. He looks over towards the den door from the long dining table, and spots Tony with a group of new S.H.I.E.L.D. recruits sprinkled throughout the trainees that had previously come to talk.

“I’ll be back.” Steve assures him and disappears into the small cluster.

Bucky refills his glass and drinks again.

A few minutes later, he feels a warmth settle beside him. For a moment he thinks it might be you, having changed your mind. Then when he sees the blonde head of hair, this time carefully waved and left to flow down strong supple shoulders, he’s both pleased and disappointed that it isn’t you.

It’s in this moment, when the pleasure he feels at the fact that you didn’t cave and come running to him, that you’re finally standing up for yourself and all the shit he’s put you through, that Bucky realizes that he’s failed you.

He’s lost you. He’s been a shitty husband and soon, he’s sure, he’ll be a divorced man because he couldn’t protect and keep his wife happy. His eyes water slightly as he blinks at the pretty blonde.

“Hello again, Sergeant Barnes.” The blonde smiles.

How do men do this? How does anyone do this? How do they lose the loves of their lives and keep living after they’re gone? It’s suffocating—like you aren’t. He’d said you were suffocating but you’re not. He’s such shit. Fuck him. Fuck his life.

“Do I know you, sweetheart?” Bucky slurs, teetering more towards drunk than tipsy.

“We met up for coffee, remember? I had questions about your time with Hydra? Penny Santor?” She seems disappointed that he doesn’t recognize her.

Bucky squints at her and his eyes devour her form. She’s wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D. jumper. Dark blue and skin tight. He can see every shift of her muscles. He strong body is nothing like yours.

He downs the rest of his drink but continues to eye this girl.

“Did you fight Tasha in your training yet?” He asks, sitting up to turn and face her.

“Yeah!” She waves over one of the hired bartenders and asks for a drink of her own. For the next two hours, Penny Santor tells Bucky all about her training. She’s top of her unit, skilled in hand-to-hand with a specialty in knives and sleuthing.

In other words, she's sneaky as fuck.

She’s slurring too by the time he finally interrupts her again. She’s leaning her head on his shoulder, having fallen forward as she flirtatiously batted her eyelashes at him.

Every move her body makes, Bucky’s eyes studies. It’s mesmerizing, the way her muscles tighten and shift underneath her uniform.

She's strong…not fragile.

He really wants to see those muscles bare. He tilts his head a little so that he can look at her face, only inches away since it’s on his shoulder.

“Whadiyoo say yer time wass? Wid Tasha? How long dijoo last?” Bucky has had too much to drink and this blonde's pretty blurry face is dizzying. He can feel her hand on his thigh and although there is a small voice in his head screaming at him to get up and get some air, a much larger part of him wants to know: if this girl was left alone, would she be able to protect herself?

Could he leave her alone in a darkened alley and come out the other side unharmed? It's so tempting. Strength in a partner.

“Sergeant Barnes, whadar you rilly askin’ me?”

“Bucky.” He says, correcting her. His lips curved up minutely at the corners.

She laughs, giggling at the name and her cheeks flush bright red. “Okay…Buckyyyyy.”

“Yer really drunk.” He tells her, chuckling once, and she reaches up to slap his shoulder but misses and she falls closer to his face.

“So’re yoouuu.” She whispers, breathing bitter tonic and lemon onto Bucky’s lips.

“Icants take care of’er, Poppy.” Bucky's lips turn down, a frown, puppy-like in its strange intoxicated innocence.

“Iz Penny.”

“P-Penny…” Bucky stutters, upset, missing you. You’re a hole in his chest. With his mouth twisted and his eyes lost he reaches up to push—was it Poppy?—her blonde hair back behind her ear.

“I’mma kiss you now, Bucky.”

“No…” Bucky protests but Penny leans forward and presses her full mono-lips against his.

Fuzzy alarms go off in his head and he reaches up to push her away but instead his hands curve around the strong taut muscles of her shoulders as he pulls her closer.

She whispers a moan against Bucky’s lips and those fuzzy alarms go off again as something registers as inherently incorrect in the moment. His mind loses this realization the next second and he groans against Penny’s lips.

“Bucky!” Suddenly yanked back, Bucky looks up towards the yanker and smiles as his blue eyes fall on his most bestest, most awesomestest friend in the whole fucking world.

“Stevie! Look Poppy, it’s Stevie. I still can’t believe you’re so damn tall.” He mumbles.

“Buck, you’re drunk. Let’s get you out of here.”

Cold winter air hits Bucky’s face with a harsh sting. It sobers him up a bit but not enough that he can walk on his own.

“How much did you drink, sheesh, Bucky, you reek.”

“It was just a couple of drinks.” Bucky’s slur is gone at least.

Soft, leather covered cushions make him float. It feels like he’s moving forward but he’s sitting so he can’t be moving.

“You just cling and suffocate me while I’m at home.” Bucky groans, shutting his eyes as his words repeat in his head.

“We’re almost there, Buck.”

“None of this would be an issue if you’d just done the damn training like I asked. If you could protect yourself then I wouldn’t have to be here twenty-four seven. Why are you so fucking helpless?” Bucky grits his teeth. He doesn’t want to be sober. The less drunk he is, the more he can hear himself tearing into you.

“Maybe we got married to soon.” Your words this time and they twist his heart. He reaches up and hits his chest with his harsh metal hand clawing at the fabric there to try and reach into his chest. Maybe he can rip his own heart out?

“Hey, stop it.” Steve says, pushing Bucky's hand down.

Bucky swings forward then slams his head back against the seat. Metallic screeching and the peak if leather fills the car.

“Woah, Buck, it’s okay. We’re almost to the apartment.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all a mistake.”

“Yeah. Maybe it was all a mistake.” No.

“Yeah. Maybe it was all a mistake.” It wasn’t. Why did he say it?

“Fuck!” Bucky shouts, reaching up to pull at his hair while his own words haunt him, swirling around his mind with relentless persistence.

“Buck, what the hell is going on?” Steve asks, so worried his voice is demanding but soft. It drifts towards Bucky like a tip toeing whisper across his mind. He can tell that Steve is afraid to make whatever is happening worse.

Bucky can feel the car stop now. He’s less drunk. He can see the lights of the building clearly, the dusty blue painted brick, the black molding, the yellow bulb by the large doorway.

“You want help getting up there?”

“No.” Bucky shoves open the door and nearly trips over the curb, but he manages to regain his balance by holding onto the car door.

Steve rises out of his side and stares across the top of the car towards him. “Buck, wait, let me help you.”

“Fuck off, Steve.” Bucky sighs.

It creaks and groans in protest of his weight, so he slams it shut then stumbles towards the door with Steve’s eyes boring into his back. It’s a struggle up the stairs—the stupid building elevator seems to be under never ending restoration to preserve the original art deco architecture—but he reaches his floor after several minutes and stops to carefully place his thumb on the scanner to go inside.

It takes him two tries because the first time his hand misses and hits the pad off center.

As son as he’s inside he can feel your absence. This apartment, his home with you, it’s empty and cold. You’ve left him and the ripping agony of being abandoned by you threatens to overwhelm him.

“Y/N?” He calls out anyway, hoping that you’ll bound out from the hallway, smile stretching across your pretty face as your eyes light up the way they do only for him.

He doesn’t want to feel like this. If being in love means feeling like this, what’s the point of giving into it? He doesn’t need this pain. He doesn’t want it. But he can never regret you—the girl in the soft pink bathing suit, limping up the stairs, beautiful and helpless.

A timid knock on the door behind him has him whirling around. He pushes the door open. “Y/N?” He gasps.

Instead he finds Poppy…no, Penny. He remembers her now.

His eyes shift to her lips because although he fights through the fog obscuring the recent memory, he knows what those lips taste like. He finds her eyes, soft blue orbs with unrestrained desire.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asks, almost angry but not quite. The misery in his chest like a filter, dulling his rage.

She says nothing but she edges her way through the opening in the door. Bucky steps back, seeing the drunken stupor in his eyes reflected in hers. She shouldn’t be here. He’s not…he can’t think straight. Too much has happened too quickly.

They lost Elias. He lost you. He hurt you, bad. He failed you. You left him. He said so many horrible things. What if that’s who he truly is? What if he’s the monster that they made him, and he can never be anything else?

Bucky doesn’t want to think. He doesn’t want to feel. He wants to lose himself in something. Anything. And there she so conveniently is, Penny, licking her lips, biting them and dragging them between her teeth. Tight, ripped body, and like him, all inhibitions gone.

Bucky blacks out, his mind shuts off and he pulls the girl hard against his body.

The next few minutes are a flurry of stumbling steps, crashing against walls, bumping teeth, and wet sloppy kisses. Thin, graceful hands tangle in his hair, yank it hard as he finds the zipper of her suit and nearly breaks it off.

As soon as her skin is exposed, he begins to feel it, stroking needy fingers along the velvet peach. He feels mattress on his back and gentle rutting against his thigh as his shirt is pulled over his head and his pants are quickly discarded after.

When she stands, Bucky pulls her uniform off and throws it aside. He lays her flat on her back and his hands go to work, caressing her most sensitive spots.

As his hands wind down along her sides, his thigh gently pressing against her heated sex, he shakes away the thought that these curves don’t feel right. They’re too tight. Too firm as he tries to grab hold. The curve in all the wrong ways and he gets no thrill from tracing them. As he trails kisses up along her toned stomach, the taste is all wrong. Too tart, too salty. It makes him want to gag for one shocking moment, but he pushes through it to taste her breasts.

The moan that floats from her lips is too deep, too long. The sound is terrible. He doesn’t like it.

For a moment Bucky opens his eyes and stares into her own hazy blues. They’re not your eyes. He shuts his eyes again hard, fighting the need to pull away and dives down to silence her moaning with his lips.

After another blackout passes, Bucky finds himself inside of her, thrusting, rough almost violent stabs with his cock, trying desperately to chase away the black pit in his chest. Sharp nails scrape his shoulders, too hard. It doesn’t hurt the right way. It irritates him and he suddenly wants to tie her hands up so she can’t touch him.

“Oh, yeah baby, just like that. Right there…ah…” A whispered pant, demanding and confident.

“Don’t talk.” Bucky growls. She’s not allowed to talk; her voice is all wrong. “Don’t say anything.”

“Why?”

“Just shut up.” He shoves himself in harder then pulls out to roughly turn her over, so he doesn’t have to look at her. Harsh metal digging into muscled hip and steel strong bone. She cries out from the pain, but Bucky doesn’t stop. He doesn’t care.

This is easier. Now that he can’t see her face, he feels a little better, but only a very little. He grips her hips and slams into her once more, moving faster and rougher. She reaches back to pull him closer, helping to shove him in further.

“Don’t touch me.” Bucky grunts, reaching back to slap her hand away.

She drops it and goes back to fisting the sheets. A few moments later she screams, too loud, too sharp, the sound is unpleasant and Bucky’s stomach rolls with toxic bile as she twitches around his cock.

He stops thrusting, watching as she pants then her eyes begin to shut and because she’s drunk, she falls asleep.

Breathless for many different reasons, Bucky rolls off of her and lays beside her, no climax for him because he could have fucked her all night and he would have never been able to do it. She isn’t you. He covers himself with his sheets as he shuts his eyes and once again presses the palms of his hands hard against his eyes.

None of that had felt right. None of that had been what he needed. He’d blacked out twice. For a few minutes, his mind had been at ease if only because he couldn’t think. Now all he can think about is the fact that he’s driven you away.

You’re not sure why you stay out so long. You don’t go see Henry. Of course, you don’t. Why would you? Though what with the office being so close, it would have at least been a place to lay low for a few hours.

But too much can go wrong. There’s too much temptation to take comfort in him because you know if you asked for it, he would give it. So instead, you avoid going by the office. You walk to Casey’s which takes you about half an hour but stop just outside her place and turn to head back.

You make this walk several times, all the way to Casey’s then back to the corner before you turn into your street, all the while trying to think of a way to fix all of this.

When the night is biting cold, and you can’t walk anymore because your legs are exhausted, you make your way back home.

The building is quiet, dead asleep. As you walk down the hall and stop at your door, you accept that this won’t be easily fixed. There’s a lot to talk about. So much more than just the things that were said tonight.

Bucky has been hiding so much from you, about himself. How are you supposed to make this marriage work if you don’t have all the information you need to do it? But he’s worth it. Your Bucky is worth it. All those beautiful moments spent with him, playful days spent in bed or lounging on the couch. Watching movies and listening to music he’s never heard before. Dancing in the living room and down the hallway when he gets excited with the sway of the song.

And so many blissful exchanges of love in bed. You’ve loved his body in so many ways since you’ve met him and he’s worshipped you passionately, lovingly. His touch is the most addictive of drugs and if you must struggle through getting him to open up to you to have that high again, you will, because now there’s more to come. A future growing in your belly. This baby means everything, and you can’t wait to tell him.

You shut your eyes tight, expel all your worry with a quick sigh, then press your thumb to the small panel. Your door clicks open and you move inside.

The living room light is on. Is Bucky home? You hadn’t been expecting him to be here.

You peel off your coat and hang it then remove your shoes. Slowly you make your way down the hall. Your door is slightly ajar.

Is he actually waiting for you? Did he not go to the compound after all? What if he didn’t? What if you’ve been walking around while he’s been waiting here to make up with you? To make it all better?

With a nervous, stuttering heart, you push the door open as quietly as you can then feel the bitter sting of confusion as your brain tries to catch up with why your chest is caving in. Your legs are already week and your knees want to buckle. You want to fall to the ground, but your mind doesn’t know why.

Wretched poison—burning, spitting, searing makes its way into your chest. The thing you call a heart dies and shrivels then rips itself into pieces as your eyes make out the naked shape of a sleeping woman barely covered with your pale-yellow bed sheets. You can see golden freckles splashed over the tight muscles of her shoulders, her tanned peachy skin glows even in the moonlight as if she were kissed by the sun. Beside her is the modestly covered but clearly also naked form of your husband.

How can he lay there so casually with his right arm underneath his head and his left leg propped up as he stares at the ceiling? Next to that woman? Covered in the sheets you picked? On your side of the bed? Your bed!

It takes only a second for this to happen, for you to see. The light of the hallway brightens the room as the door swings open and Bucky’s eyes move towards the shift and the near imperceptible creak of the hinge.

When he sees you, he shoots up, pushing himself up onto his elbows and then hands in a panic as his previously relaxed face tightens into agonized worry.

“Y/N…”

You can’t even speak. You have no voice. You have no strength, no will, all you have is the strangled torment that paints your whole world black. You gasp, sharp and sudden then turn and leave.

“Wait!” The sounds of tripping, stumbling, something breaking follow you into the hallway. “No! Y/N!”

Your hands are shaking as you reach the front door and bend down towards your shoes. You pull one on and then the other as Bucky comes barreling around the corner wearing only his briefs.

“Y/N…no. Wait I-”

Please don’t touch me. Don’t touch me.

He grabs your arm and you yank it away as if he’s burned you. You look at his face and he’s shaking his head, his blue eyes pleading and sorrowful. How dare he look like that, as if you’re the one wrong for catching him in bed with another woman. Or…maybe that’s just what you’re seeing? He could also genuinely be panicked with grief.

“This…” This marriage. This relationship. This agreement. This whole life and everything you and Bucky share…You take a deep breath and your voice hitches. “…was a mistake.”

You gasp but no tears stream down your face. You are too livid. Too enraged to do anything but shake with rage.

“No.”

You move for the door, forgetting your coat, but Bucky’s hand closes around your wrist and you round on him, hand held up, swinging fast to slap him. He flinches and you stop it a few inches from making impact as your mind floods with the stories that Steve told you. All the physical and mental abuse that Bucky has suffered…you can’t make your hand come down. You can’t add to that toxicity that began this whole mess.

Seeing Bucky flinch because of you somehow still hurts because it’s you making him cower.

“Baby please…” Bucky begs with profound desperation. “L-Let me explain.”

With one final tug you pull your arm out of his grip and leave, slamming the door shut behind you.

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maybemitch · 5 years

Text

LETTERS FROM THE DEAD

DESCRIPTION: Folded pieces of paper, littered the top draw of Y/N’s desk.

WARNING: Implied character death. Mentions of deceased characters (Brody, Marlon, Mitch). Just a whole lot of death. Swearing.

WORD COUNT: 2252

━━━⋆☆⋆━━━

When the news of Y/N dying broke, everyone in Ericson was in a sense of mourning. Everyone which was a member of the school - apart from Clementine and AJ - knew Y/N.

Y/N was a member of the school just as the dead started to work, yet their parents came and collected them right away. In a sense of protection. Therefore, because they came and collected them, the students left at Ericson didn't see Y/N for a while. That was until two years into the apocalypse. Y/N had remember their way back to the school and found themselves standing in front of the gates which were ever so familiar to them. Marlon was the one which saw them at the gate, his jaw drops. Marlon never thought he'd see Y/N again, but there they were standing, blood, sweat and dirt coating their skin, their weapons (which was a knife) in their hands. Most of the kids were surprised when they saw Y/N but welcomed them right back into the school wall.

Everyone in Ericson was in a sense of mourning because they always thought that Y/N would be one of the people which made it to the new world, they always fascinated about. They never expected them to get bitten. But then again, no one could control what happened in the world.

Violet was the one which suggested that they should bury Y/N's things like they did with Tenn's sisters. This would allow those in the school to go and mourn properly. Therefore, Violet and AJ were collecting Y/N's things and placing them into a box.

AJ opened up the draw to the identical desk he had in his dorm room, white folded pieces of paper slide side to side in the draws. Curiously, he reached for one, unfolding it, noticing, black and blue scribbles on it. Writing.

Violet noticed AJ's confusion when she turned around, her arms folding across her chest, "What you got there AJ?" her voice was soft. She was in pain for losing another friend.

AJ held the piece of paper up in the air, twisting it around, as if it was something unfamiliar to him, "It's some writing," unfortunately, the small boy couldn't figure out what was written on the paper, the handwriting was sloppy. Therefore, he held it out for Violet, "Can you read it?"

Violet walked over slowly, gently taking it from the boys hands. She inspected it. It definitely was Y/N writing. She knew that from the way which the letters were conjoined, it was something Y/N use to do in the class they shared together.

A small smile plastered on Violet's lips, before folding the piece of paper back up. The words left unread. How it should be.

AJ looked at her in confusion, "Why didn't you read it?"

"Its an invasion of privacy," Violet explained, the piece of paper clenched in her hand, "Y/N wrote them for themselves. I... I couldn't read their thoughts."

AJ nodded his head. He somewhat understood why Violet didn't want to read the letter. It was similar to the situation AJ was in when he first arrived at the school and tried to read Aasim's journal. The words which people write are sometimes private and only should be read if the person reading them allows it.

AJ looked back into the draw, noticing more folded piece of paper, before casting another look to the blonde who had her eyes closed. "Hey, Vi. What shall I do with the other letters Y/N wrote?"

Violet open her eyes, looking into the desk draw. There was around four folded piece of paper inside. All probably scribbled on with thoughts, with feelings which Y/N felt. Each one of these letters absorbed every piece of pain which lingered in Y/N's conscience. Violet couldn't bring herself to invade that.

"Past them here," Violet held out her hands. She didn't know where to put them. She didn't want to burn them - she might not want to read them, but someone in the future might. She didn't want to hide them away in the cupboard, they might be completely forgetting about then. Violet just didn't want to disrespect her deceased friend, they might have not been close when they were alive, but they were basically family.

"What are you going to do with them?" AJ asked as he placed the last one into Violet's hand.

Violet sighed, "But them somewhere safe, most likely. I can't get rid of them."

AJ continued to pack up the room, Violet had her hand on her pocket, ensuring that none of the papers fell from her pocket. The zip was broken, that the reason she didn't just zip them up. Whilst the two were packing up the room, they didn't speak much. The occasionally question came from AJ and the answer came from Violet.

Eventually, the room was packed away. It was as if the room had never been used before, not a single trace of human existence present inside the room.

Violet took a deep breath when she stood at the door, taking in the room. The curtains danced with the slight breeze which fluttered through, but that was all the movement in the room. For now and most likely for good. The blonde slowly shut the door, the click of the lock made her hear sink further into her chest.

"I'm going to find Clem," AJ announced to the girl which had her back pressed up against the shut door. "You can come with me, if you like. That's if you don't want to be alone."

Violet shook her head, pushing herself of the door, making her way towards her room, "I'm alright, little man. I'll come catch up with you in a little while? How's that sound?"

AJ nodded his head, lingering in his spot for a moment. He didn't want to leave Violet, he didn't want her to hurt by herself, but he couldn't connect to the pain which Violet felt, considering he only knew Y/N for a few weeks. A few weeks is nothing compared to years.

Violet waved AJ off, before opening her door and stepping inside. She didn't shut the door, she allowed the wind from the window to do it for her, the clock echoed in the room. A signal that she was now alone.

The first thing which she did was take out the letter scraps she had bunched up in her pocket. She lay they astray on the desk, not knowing where else she could put them. Whilst she paced around her shared room, her eyes kept drifting over to them.

An urge inside of her wanting to read them but the other half does not. Violet ended up bringing her hands to her mouth, nibbling slightly at her dirty nails and the skin around them, before caving into the temptation of wanting to know what ran through her friends mind.

"I'm sorry Y/N," Violet mumbled into the room, looking up at the sky, "Please forgive me."

She snatched the five notes on the table, before sitting down on her floor, her back pressed up against the metal bed frame. She unfolded them timidly, her hands shaking as she did so. Some letters were long, some were short. But Violet could already tell that each letter was written from the heart, that emotion had caved it's way into the writing.

Letter One:

We're not living in this world, its were surviving it. And that's the thing... surviving this world had (that’s the key word; had) been my plan. To outlive the dead had been my plan from the very beginning. But now, my main priority is making sure my friends survive. That's all that matters to me now. I couldn't care less what happens to me. If I get bit (which is a likely scenario) then I get bit. I don't want my friends to worry about me. Yeah, maybe somewhere in the world someone has survived an amputation to the infected limb, but I don't want to give them hope. If I get bit. Then that's it for me. That's the end of the line. With most all of my friends I have promised them that they'd get to see the new world. Some laughed, saying that it was a ridiculous assumption and that was never going to happen. My optimism seems to be funny to some, but that’s doesn’t bother me. Whilst some laughed. Some held hope that maybe I was telling the truth. But the things is, I am telling the truth. They’re going to make it to the new world. However, I won’t though. The new world isn’t for me.

Letter Two:

We welcomed new people into our home today. Their names were Clementine and AJ. They seem like nice people. They seemed to know how to survive the world. I don’t know how long they’ve been outside for, in the open world. But I know it’s been longer than me, longer than the other kids. Clementine and AJ seem like the people which would also make it to the new world. They both seem to know how to make it around this world. I would be envious of them, that they know how to survive, that they would make it to the new world. But in all honesty, I don’t mind at all.

Letter Three:

The small boy, AJ. He shot Marlon. And Brody. She's also dead. Apparently, Marlon killed her? I don't know what to believe. I thought they were nice. Fuck. We held a funeral for our friends. And afterwards, we held a vote for the two new comers. Violet, Tenn and Aasim voted for those to stay. I refused to vote. I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What Marlon did was wrong, trade the twins, accidentally kill Brody. And what AJ did was wrong, killing Marlon. [a section which was unreadable] Clementine came back. AJ was wounded. They came across people in the woods which were looking for the school. We're preparing for a war. Maybe no one will see the new world after all? I know for a fact I wouldn’t be.

Letter Four:

Death came knocking on Ericon's door again, claiming the life of Mitch, after he heroically saved Tennessee. He didn't deserve it. The people which are at war with are called Delta. They took Omar, Aasim and Louis. Clementine promises to bring them all back from Delta. She promises that we will win.But what's the point of a victory if no everyone can celebrate? Either way. We’ve already lost.

Letter Five:

Fighting a war of tiring. I can’t do it. Fighting humans is different than fighting the dead. Humans. At the end of the day; humans are a dying race. Were being overpopulated by the dead. So why should we try and kill one another? There is no point in doing it. Clementine. She promised that we’ll get our friends backs. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Hopefully everyone comes back, so they can see the new world i’ve promised them. Delta. They’re evil fuckers people. What they did to my friends. What they did to Louis. They deserves to fucking burn. What I said earlier about us humans being a dying race, doesn’t matter. Delta. They. Fuck. Minerva was there. I saw her get bit on the cheek - I remember promising her the new world. After all, she did get one. But not the one which was meant for her. Not the one I promised. I suppose what I’ve been doing, giving promises out to my friends has been foolish? Selfish? I just wanted them happy. I didn’t want them panic. I just wanted them to be happy. But i’ve been meaning what i’ve been saying. About me not making it to the new world. I know that because... i was bit. Trying to escape the walkers on the beach. It was only a small graze on my ankle, a small bite. But it’s still infectious. I’m just sorry to my friends. I understand that this is going to cause them pain. But i’ve always vocalised that I wasn’t going to make it. And if they didn’t believe me, then they were foolish.

Violet placed down the letters. Her throat clenching from fighting the tears. She obviously knew that Y/N got bit. Violet was one of the people which didn’t believe what they said. She didn’t believe that Y/N wasn’t going to make it. So she was foolish.

Violet smiled, her eyebrows knitting together when she noticed something sprawled in the corner of one of the piece of paper. She wonder how she didn’t see it. But it was small writing.

Violet picked the paper back up, brining the paper close to her face, so she could read the rough writing.

Maybe I did make it to the new world? Maybe that’s what peace is? Maybe peace is the new world.

Violet smiled sadly at the words, a small tear falling. She quickly wiped it away, crying was never her thing, but after all, if she’s hurting, she’s going to let her emotions show.

“Of course,” she smiled, “Of course only you’d say that, Y/N.”

━━━⋆☆⋆━━━

I don’t know how i feel about this piece of writing. I haven’t wrote in a while. But still.

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madsnjay · 4 years

Text

1. Therapy

Tom's POV

"Would anyone else like to come up and share? We have a few minutes left of our session." Amanda shares.

"I'd like to step up." Said a voice in the front row. He jumped up on the podium.

"Hi, how's everyone doing? I'm Alex."

"Hi, Alex."

"Well to start off, it's obviously my first time in one of these things. I'm not gonna lie it was kind of rough for me to finally make my way here. I am many things. I'm a liar, I'm a cynic. I'm a sinner, and a saint. A loser, a critic. Honestly, I'm the ghost of my mistakes."

And I thought the musician was dramatic. "I want this one first." I said turning to Jay. "Already on it."

"Well I'm not one to really beat around the bush. I kinda just say it as it is. I know this isn't AA but I have struggled a lot with alcohol. I recently got into an accident because of it, in which ended with my best friend in the hospital. Thankfully he's okay. It fucking sucks that it had to get to that point for me to finally realize I had to fix this problem. I've been sober for almost two weeks now and I'd be lying if I said I haven't been tempted. Every time I let my mind wander I think back to that night. He told me repeatedly he'd drive. He was a lot more sober than I was. He offered to pay for an uber for us. He did all the right things except for one. He decided to get in the car with me. He decided to trust me. That will forever be my greatest regret. I keep thinking 'yeah, I should be laying in that hospital bed. It should be me fighting for my life even though I don't deserve to live'. I take my life for granted. I'd give anything for a bottle to help me forget. He helps me through it all. He's forgiven me. Now it's time for me to learn to forgive myself."

What a load of bullshit. Two weeks sober huh? I bet I can break him.

"Time heals all wounds. We're all hard on ourselves because we know we should've known better. We are all our own worst critic. Thank you so much Alex, we are all here for you and you have our support. And thank you to everyone else who shared today. I'll see you all next week." Amanda says with a bright smile.

We sit and watch everyone make their way to the door. Once everyones gone, I turn to face Jay for a report.

"Alex's story checks out. The only thing I'm curious about is how could his friend have forgiven him if he's in a coma?" She says with a sarcastic grin.

Welcome to the game, Alex.

Jay's POV

Finding Alex was easy, but finding more info on Em was a bit more of a challenge. Usually the damaged like to share more of themselves to try to get others to feel pity. Em was different, and I liked a challenge.

"You ready?" Noel said as he and Cody stood out by the door of the session. When you help one of the town's most feared, you're obviously gonna need some type of protection. As I filled them in on our two newest players, Cody went off to follow up on Alex's unfortunate victim.

"Noel, I'm gonna need you to follow the musician around-"

"Boss says I can't leave you on your own-"

"Yeah? Well I'm your boss, too. And I need you to do this for me. I'll take care of Tom." I said aggravated. He was hesitant at first before he decided to walk off and catch up before she got too far.

Before I decided to walk back into the room with Tom, I felt eyes on me. I turned and seen Alex making direct eye contact from down the hall. Show time.

"Like what you see?" I said with a smirk.

"For the most part."

"Very revealing story there, Alex." I said as I made my way to him.

"Just being honest and open that's all." he said leaning against the wall. "And since we're being honest and open, how about you let me take you out for some coffee. Unless you got other plans." He said as he looked behind me to see Tom standing down the hall by the door.

"Nope, totally free." I said as I glared at Tom. I love him, but I'm tired of him thinking he can control me. I hate the fact that he knows he has me wrapped around his finger. This is a step I'm taking all on my own, and I'm gonna prove to him that I don't need his white knuckled grasp on me to produce results.

Tom's POV

What in the actual fuck does she think she's doing? Going off with Alex? Alone? She could absolutely blow the entire thing with this idiotic burst of rebellion. And why the fuck did Noel just leave like that? I specifically told him not to leave her alone, and that's exactly what he did. I know she can be persuasive, and honestly downright intimidating sometimes, but orders are orders. She can't be undermining me to my own employees.

As they all walked off in their separate directions, I found myself standing there, unsure of what to do. Before I could give it any more thought, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to see Amanda, giving a big smile to the last couple of people heading out of the building.

"Tom, let's talk inside." She said as she jerked her head back towards the building. I sighed and turned to follow after her. I need to find out what Jay is up to, but I guess I can't really be seen following them around. Then I'll blow the whole thing. Plus, if she told me to talk inside and I left, she'd have my head displayed on her mantle, and that's not really how I planned to go out if I'm being perfectly honest.

"What's up, A?" I asked as I sat next to her on the back row, throwing my arm over the back of the chair between us and turning to face her.

"We need to talk better strategies. You and Jay have gotten kind of... sloppy lately. You're my number one asset, and I don't want her reckless rebellion interfering with your success." Shit.

"I mean, I'm your only asset but I'll take it," I said with a chuckle, trying to ease the tension. She didn't so much as hint at any sort of smile at my lame excuse for a joke. I nervously cleared my throat and continued. "Amanda, I can assure you I have everything under control. We're just going with a... different course of action this time, but I can assure you, everything will go as planned." She seemed pleased with my response, and she confirmed by not pressing the issue anymore.

"So. Who are the new targets?" She always got eager to know who we were going after next. She's a firm believer in ridding the world of the damaged people that damage others. It was almost unsettling how much pleasure she took in our work.

"Definitely Alex. Dude was way too dramatic from the start. Had me at his poetry bullshit before he ever even told his story." She nodded in agreement and looked away in thought.

"So just him? Cody, Jay, and Noel all went off in different directions. Kinda strange for one target, isn't it?" For some reason, I didn't want her to know about the musician yet. I wanna know her full story before I get Amanda involved.

"As of right now, yes. Cody is checking in on Alex's friend to see what's up, and Alex asked Jay to go get coffee with him, so she's gonna try to get more of an inside story from him. Noel is keeping an eye on them from afar." She nodded, hopefully not suspicious of my answer.

"Very well then. Keep up the good work." She said shaking my hand as we both stood up to leave. As I was about to walk out the door, she spoke again stopping me in my tracks. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes ma'am?" I asked turning back, worried she was about to call me out for lying straight to her face. "I'm glad you're on our team." She threw in a small smile at the end, easing my nerves.

"I am too. I really am." I said before I turned and exited the building. Now how the fuck am I gonna handle this whole situation?

Jay's POV

"Pick your poison." He says as we made our way to the register. Poison, not a bad idea. Simple and a hell of a lot less messy.

"Can I get a venti salted caramel cold brew with toffee nut in the foam please?" As I reached for my wallet I felt his hand pull mine away.

"And a black hot coffee for me, both under Alex. Thank you." he said as he handed his card over. A gentleman, kind of a shame. "I asked you out for coffee, my treat. I'm guessing your boy has you fend for yourself a lot huh?"

I really had no idea how to respond to that. Part of me wanted to defend Tom, but the other part of me knows he's kind of right.

"I'll take your silence as an answer," he chuckled. I walked over to a table as he brought over our drinks. "Speaking of, what's the deal with you two? Trouble in paradise?"

"He's no one you really have to worry about. We're just really good friends." I said as I take a drink.

"That's good to know, now this all doesn't have to be too awkward."

"Were you worried?" I said with a big grin.

"A little, it's just the way he watches you. Like he's waiting for you to slip away."

"He has no hold on me." I said with a reassuring smile.

"So, you know a little bit of my story. What's yours?"

"Well, I have a habit of collecting damaged people. I seem to gravitate to it apparently." I say as I take another sip.

"So what are you after? Some kind of disaster?"

"Damage attracts damaged."

He smiles as he takes a drink. "Well, then I think this could be good for us. Help fix each other."

Sure, help me.

#tom holland #cody ko #noel miller #alex gaskarth #jack barakat #all time low #tiny meat gang #tom holland fanfiction #cody ko fanfic #noel miller fanfic #alex gaskarth fanfic #jack barakat fanfic #all time low fanfic #tiny meat gang fanfic

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olivenight17 · 5 years

Text

Neito Monoma X Reader “Protection”

Hey! So, I kinda just got the inspiration to write this. Forgive me if it’s a bit sloppy, I’ve been awake all night and it’s really late where I am. Part of this came from a nightmare I just had a few hours ago and I’ve been shaking since. So what better way to counteract it than with having fictional characters protect me from it? Ha ha... yeah sorry you guys. Hope you enjoy our crackhead blond with a softer side.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sometimes you wished you didn’t have your sixth sense.

To be fair it wasn’t easy. For years your classmates would tease you that you only made it up in order to pretend you had a quirk. It was hard to prove it existed, even if you asked the ghosts to do something, not all had enough energy to even move anything. It only got worse towards the end of the year.

That was when he showed up.

Neito Monoma, the most arrogant, loud-mouthed blond you had ever met, transferred to your middle school. After seeing how he could react to people trying to one-up him, you decided to stay out of his way. You didn’t need him picking on you for your quirk too. You figured you could just fly under his radar until it was time for high school. But, fate had other plans.

As you moved to the library to eat your lunch, two kids from your class blocked the way. “Well, if it isn’t the crazy ghost girl.” One of them sneered down at you.

You merely kept your head down, trying to push through them. They pushed back and you stumbled. “Akira, Natsumi, please. Can’t we just do this some other day? I didn’t eat breakfast and I’m really hungry…” You muttered.

The two simply laughed and pushed you another step back. “Aw, did someone forget to eat because of their hallucinations? Poor you,” Natsumi snickered.

You frowned in response. “They’re not hallucinations. They’re real ghosts, it’s not my fault you’re all too blind to see them.” There was a slight snarl in your voice. It was tiring having to put up with this harrassment every day and you were reaching your breaking point.

“Oh yeah? Prove it then, freak. Prove it like you’ve been able to every time anyone’s asked you about it!” Akira yelled, pulling you back by your hair when you tried to rush by them again. He slammed you into a wall and you whimpered in pain. “Nothing to say, huh? Surprise, surprise. Just admit it, you’re nothing but a quirkless, crazy bitch!” He spat in your face and you flinched.

The tension of his grip was suddenly released and before you knew it, Akira was on the ground and Neito was standing in front of you. “I have to say that is no way to treat a fellow peasant, so I think you two should learn your place. After all, I just recorded that entire scene. It would be a shame if the school were to find out about such indecent behavior, don’t you agree?” You could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

Natsumi helped Akira up and they both glared at him. “Why bother helping out a freak like her? Aren’t you too good for us anyways?” She snipped, her golden hair illuminating her anger.

“Oh believe me, I am far above you. After all I have a quirk that can be useful to society and you two, well come on. Do I really have to explain myself to a girl who’s only power is her glowing hair and a boy with boar tusks?” He chuckled as the two swore under their breath. “Now run along peasants and then I might consider deleting that video.” Venom laced his words and it wasn’t long before they both fled back to the cafeteria.

You could only stare at him in shock. “You… you helped me. Why?” He smirked at your question.

“Well that’s simple, peasant. You have a slight bit more potential than the rest. Though I must admit, I am quite curious to see if the rumors are true. So without further ado…” His hand rested on your neck for a split second, making you switch to confusion.

“Hey, what was that for?” You asked, but he wasn’t paying attention to you which made you huff. Then, a ghost appeared through the wall.

“What’s all that commotion for (Y/N)? This guy’s not giving you trouble, is he?” The ghost asked, squinting his eyes at Neito.

Neito was staring back at him with wide eyes, muttering under his breath as he took a step forward and extended his hand out to the ghost. His hand passed right through him and the ghost in turn tried to whack him with his mop. “What do you think you’re doing, child? Do you know how rude it is to just phase through someone like that!” The mop, of course, passed through Neito and he shivered in response.

You stood between them and held your hands up in apology. “Sorry, Mr. Ito, he doesn’t know ghost etiquette as well as I do. It won’t happen again, I promise.” The old man grumbled at your apology.

“He better not. You’re lucky I like you, (Y/N). Otherwise I’d give that boy hell,” He snapped.

You chuckled in response. “I’m sure you would. I’ll see you in the library a little later for lunch, okay?” You smiled brightly at him and he gruffly nodded before he disappeared back into the wall.

When he was gone, you whirled around to face Neito. However, before you get could a single word out, he was already asking questions. “Who was that?”

“Mr. Ito, he was a janitor who worked here about six years ago. He died slipping on a puddle of chocolate milk and cracked his head on a table. He’s why the school here is always so clean.” You responded and he slowly nodded.

“How long have you known him?”

“Since I came here. He’s a nice man.”

“He’s really a ghost.”

“Well yeah, you can’t exactly phase your hand through most people.” You chuckled. It was amusing, you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to process the information. When it seemed he had come to terms with what he had learned, you spoke up. “So, how exactly did you do that? Do you have a clairvoyance quirk like me?” A tiny bit of hope flared in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, you weren’t alone.

But it was diminished when the blond shook his head. “Oh no, nothing simple like that. My quirk allows me to use other people’s quirks after I touch them. But I have to say, your quirk is the strangest I have encountered yet.” He told you, rubbing his chin as he looked at you.

There was silence and you shifted under his gaze, getting the odd feeling he was staring at you like cattle. “I guess I’ll just go then…” You mumbled awkwardly, turning away from him.

Before you could get far, he caught you by the arm. “Wait, I’m not done. Since I’ve never experienced a quirk like yours before, I would like to study it more. So peasant, give me your phone.” You blinked owlishly at his words.

“What do you want with my phone,” You asked.

He sighed at your reaction. “I suppose I have to spell it out for you, I’m giving you my number. I expect you to reply when I text you and I’ll be sending you my schedule so you know when to come to my house so I can study your quirk more.” He explained and held out his other hand.

You nodded and placed your phone there with a slight smile. “Cool, I’ve never had a friend before.” You chirped absentmindedly, not expecting him to freeze so suddenly.

The craziest laugh you had ever heard thundered out of him, making you jump. His pupils were incredibly dilated and his face was frozen in an expression that you could only assume was meant to be mocking. “What? This does not make us friends. You are a mere peasant that could be of use! Someone as great as I could never be friends with a tool!” He exclaimed, handing your phone back and then power walking away.

You were visibly shocked and more than a little disappointed, until you noticed the new contact he made. It appeared that was all for show as only a few minutes later he had texted his plans for the week. Shock gave way to excitement and giggles escaped your mouth. He was such a weird kid, but in a way, so were you.

That was how Neito Monoma decided your friendship.

He eventually came around to admitting- which was by no means an easy task- that you were his friend, and that’s when life really began to look up for you. You finally had someone who had your back and knew who you were. Though it took some digging, you began to get to know Neito too. While he was still loud-mouthed and arrogant, you understood that it was only a facade. He used it as a way to hide his insecurities about his quirk and the challenges he knew he would face trying to be a hero. You also realized that he was a really good friend. He was caring in his own way and never failed to show up anyone who was giving you trouble. Anything he said or did, it was to help you and you could never be grateful enough for it.

While you thought he would ditch you once high school came about, that was not the case. Even though he was working hard to be a hero at U.A, he still reserved time for you. He introduced you to his other classmates and friends, though he’d never admit it, and they became your friends too.

By the time high school had ended, you had realized how hard you had fallen for him. Surprisingly enough, it was not you who asked him out. No, it was all him. He had shown up at your house with a bouquet of roses, an adorable blush on his cheeks and a speech he could barely stutter out. It was enough for you and the two of you had been dating ever since.

You had started your lives together. While Neito was out bringing villains to justice as Phantom Thief, you had started your own business to help people with the supernatural. There were a lot of ghosts in houses who could do some stuff the living didn’t quite understand, so you showed up when called and mediated the situation. It was nice to have found your calling, especially with a man you adored so much. He really helped you.

Especially on one particular night.

You closed the door with a sigh, today’s batch of ghosts had been very aggressive and you were happy to be home. Neito wasn’t in the house yet, you figured he was still on patrol, and you took a mini stroll along the halls. It was empty, and by empty, you meant devoid of anyone.

You furrowed your brows, this was odd. Normally the older residents of the house would be greeting you and asking how your day had been, but you couldn’t even feel anyone’s presence. You shrugged it off, maybe they were just tired tonight.

The stretch of silence filling your ears was eery and for some reason, you felt tense and on edge. “It’s just because of work…” You assured yourself, heading to your room. Sitting down at your desk, you began typing away at your computer to check off the jobs you had completed. Just as you reached your hand out to power it down, you felt your hair stand on end.

Someone else was in your room.

An icy chill ran through your body and you sat completely rigid. This was not a ghost from your house. It had an awful energy that seemed to crawl all over the room and you found it hard to breathe. It hadn’t taken form just yet, if you could reach your sage-

“Hi,” it uttered, in a sickly sweet tone that echoed off the walls. From the corner of your eye, you saw a woman with light brown, curly hair and blue eyes. She was crouching down at the side of your desk with a stare that was most certainly inhuman.

This was bad. This was very, very bad. “Leave… leave me be. This is not your home, you are not welcome.” You commanded but it fell off in a whisper. Her eyes glowed and before you could control yourself you were facing your head towards her.

She didn’t speak, only continuing to look into your eyes and you hadn’t noticed anything out of place until her face started rippling. Inky black spread across her face, oozing and dripping as dots of white speckled her being. You gulped, your stomach was churning.

There was a burning force at your back and you landed on the ground just in front of her. You were panting like a dog, throat burning with the feeling of puke but nothing was coming out. Hacking and coughing, you felt blood start to come from your mouth. Tears were streaming down your face. The burning sensation on your back was growing stronger and you let out an ear piercing scream. You were going to die, you were going to die, you were going to die…

The door slammed open, faint shouting swimming in your ears but it seemed so distant compared to the pain. Then there was warmth and the scent of burning sage invaded your nose. Slowly, the presence ebbed away from you, the woman baring her teeth at you savagely as she retreated from your room. “Yes, that’s right. Get the fuck away from my house and if you ever come near my love again I will send you straight back to hell myself!” A voice shouted above you. Glancing up, you saw the pale blue eyes of your boyfriend. “(Y/N), speak to me. Are you okay?” He asked urgently and tears bubbled in your eyes all over again.

You clutched onto him tightly as you sobbed. “Neito thank god. I thought it was going to kill me, it was so strong and it forced me to the ground and I...I…” You sniffled as he rocked you back and forth.

“Sh, I know, love. I know… but you’re alright now. I will personally make sure that thing never comes back. I’m here, it’s okay…” He reassured you, kissing your forehead lightly.

The two of you stayed like that for a long period of time, fear keeping you awake as your eyes darted to every shadow in your room. The darkness no longer felt safe and you swore you could still see it flicker in a corner. Neito eventually had to get up and turn the lights on just to relax you. “Come on love, lay down. We’ll keep the sage burning and the lights on, it’s not going to come back,” He murmured. You hesitated, before slowly nodding and curling up next to him. It wasn’t long before a sense of serenity passed through you, and you fell asleep to the drum of Neito’s heartbeat. He was your guardian, always there to protect you when you needed it most. You didn’t know what you would do without him.

#BNHA #Neito Monoma #x reader #comfort #my hero academia #I'm really sorry #I was scared #I want to get my mind off this nightmare #someone request soon #Neito Monoma x reader

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