#Ella is just the one who makes me audibly gasp the most

[yelenasdog]

wondrous mess (40s!bucky x fem reader)

𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst with some tooth rotting fluff halfway 

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: war is so cruel, it’s only fair that the both of them have to expirience it’s wrath together.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 11k+ (my longest fic!!)

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: the beginning shows implications of alcoholic tendencies and behavior as well as derogatory terms from the 40s to describe those who are suffering from alcoholism, war, character death, denial of death, being a widow, cheating, crying, implications of sex, that’s abt it. if i missed any, feel free to shoot me an ask or message :) 

𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: (listen to these in order for best reading experience)

☆time flies- mac miller

☆at last- etta james

☆crying time- dean martin

☆paper rings- taylor swift

☆fine line- harry styles

☆dream a little dream of me- ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong 

☆twilight time- the platters

☆you don’t have to say you love me- jerry vale

☆moon river- andy williams

☆as the world caves in- matt maltese

☆we’ll meet again- vera lynn

☆everlong (acoustic version)- foo fighters

𝚊/𝚗: i hope u enjoy this!! i’ve worked so hard on this and done so much research, it truly took the most time and effort i’ve ever used in a fic. there’s more disclaimers at the end :)

·。·☆·。·。

December 28th, 1941

The alleyway was dark, unnerving, and cold. A man’s loud and gruff voice projected through the nearly empty alley, bouncing off of the newly propaganda strewn walls. His arm was left hanging defenseless in the air.

“Don’t go, please, we’ll talk it out.” His 5 o’clock shadow seemed more prominent, his clothes wrinkled and smelling of alcohol while his breath was that of smoke.

He had changed since they had gotten together, but he wasn’t the only one.

She turned on her heels from where she stood just outside the backstreet, tears pricking the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill. 

She had aged in the time she had been with Jake, the lines on her face deepening, the bags under her eyes darkening with blue and purple hues. Her painted lips had become cemented in a scowl, her formerly bright smile rarely seeing the light of day. But the distraught girl had no intentions of letting her new Bésame mascara go to waste on some jerk, much like the past few years of her life had. She strutted towards the blonde, regaining her lost composure.

She jabbed a manicured finger onto his chest, causing the man to recede slowly, the girl he had angered not far behind.

“You listen here, you crumb. I will not sit around all slack happy so you can go around and kiss some other dame behind my back.” She removed her hand, crossing it tightly against her chest with her other arm.

“Well, I was buzzed, that bird wasn’t even any importanc-“

“You’re unbelievable!” She gasped, rolling her eyes. She turned away once again. Jake followed in suit.

“Leave me alone, Jake.” She kept her eyes straight ahead on the unfamiliar Brooklyn sidewalk. She had originally come to the area to surprise her now ex- boyfriend after his work in the factory, but was in for a shock when she saw him making out with some girl (not for the first time) just outside the diner on the way.

So even if she didn’t have a clue where she was going, she sure as hell was going to act like she did. Seeing that her stride wasn’t faltering, he made an outcry of her name followed by a bellowed  “No!”

Jake grabbed her shoulder, and she shrugged it off, continuing to walk down the cobblestone street. There were cars buzzing past, and people talking around her on the street.

Couples. Happy couples who she quite honestly envied.

“You’re not allowed to touch me like that anymore.” Jake scoffed at her seemingly venomous words, wrapping a strong hand around her dainty wrist.

“Now don’t go into a decline, it’s not that big of a deal.” Her eyes narrowed at the sandy blond.

“Oh, please. You kissed her, and all the others, because you wanted to and because you could. No regard for anyone’s feelings but your own, just like always. And I’m sick of it, I really am!” She threw her hands up, and they fell back to her side with an audible plop against the gabardine fabric.

Jake looked around nervously at all the people whose attention he had drawn, his eyes darting to and fro.

“Don’t make a scene,” he called her by her nickname in a vain attempt to draw out her sympathy. “Please, we can work it out like we always do.”

“Don’t you dare call me that. You have no place to do so. And I think I’ve made my point fairly evidently. Jake Nelson, you are nothing but a swigger and a cheat, and I want nothing to do with it any longer. Goodbye.” She felt a rush of adrenaline as she picked her head up, the setting sun in what to her seemed a poetic manor.

She didn’t know where she was, how she would get home, where she would sleep. But he was gone. That parasite that had been feeding off of her and her emotions, taking advantage of her again and again, was finally gone. And it felt great. She took a breath of the heavily polluted air, noting how it somehow seemed clearer.

She could breathe again, and the feeling was intoxicating. In her newfound bliss, she continued walking for she didn’t know (nor care to find out) how long.

The sky that had since changed from it’s scarlets and oranges to an indigo sheet (becoming nearly impossible to see the stars with all the heavy smoke wafting in the air from the ever so busy factories) provided a hint at exactly how long it had been since she began her adventure. 

She would stare at the buildings as she walked past, analyzing those who walked in and out of them, considering the way they walked, how some appeared dreary, others animated, and making up backstories for them each in her mind. Some of her stories were sadder than others, and some had the most glorious of tales. She liked to think that she was correct about her human hypotheses, even if she was the furthest thing from it.

She swung her head to the left side of the street she was walking on, and not far ahead, she noticed a rickety looking old bar. After her day's events, she felt she deserved a celebratory drink, so she pushed the heavy door open, stepping into the dimly lit area.

The airy sound of piano filled the air, a joyful demeanor to the place. Couples (which she still envied, even if momentarily the said envy had gone vacant) were dancing about happily. Not a care in the world. Not in the moment, at least.

But when she made it past the entrance, that moment stopped. It was like every head turned, all conversations paused, the clinking of the piano keys was no longer to be heard. She gave a small nervous smile to the occupants of the room as she walked to the bar itself, standing just a tad bit taller at the attention. 

And as soon as the moment had stopped, it seemed to have started back up again when she ended up at her destination. Because as she had learned, time truly never stopped for anyone. 

The piano’s melody resumed, everyone was back on their feet in no time. She took a look around, soaking up the atmosphere in complete awe, feeling free as a bird of some sort.

Soon enough, she was slowly sipping away at her concoction while facing the splintering door, her head occupied with thoughts concerning what came next, how she would handle the effects of this adrenaline high she was now stepping off. Her thinking was interrupted, though, by a deep voice and a tap on the shoulder, making her jump in her seat.

“‘Scuse me?”

She turned on her stool to face whoever it was that wanted her attention. Both figures eyes widened at the sight of the other, shock spreading across their faces.

“Well if it isn’t James Barnes!” She spoke, genuine excitement filling her soul. He called out her old nickname, contended with his discovery.

“It’s been awhile! And please, doll, it’s Bucky.” He reminded her with a charming smile. A warm blush rose up from her neck to her cheeks, and butterflies suddenly hatched in her stomach, fluttering about like nobody's business. She nodded, taking another sip from her drink to avoid meeting his eyes (which were much prettier than she ever had remembered from school). 

The clean shaven boy- or man as of late, pulled out a chair next to her, sitting down. The two engaged in friendly conversation, their laughs mixing in the warm, thick air with the sounds of the music. Her heart was beating out of her chest, leaving her feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again.

After some time of very pleasant conversation, a less effervescent matter had risen.

“So,” James began, taking a swig from his glass. “Still with that souse, what was his name,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Jake! That’s his name, Jake!” 

The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes with a laugh.

He was enchanted already.

She began to tell a toned down version of the occurrences with Jake, Bucky remaining captivated by her presence the entire time. James would speak up every few statements, always resulting in her losing her place, not that she minded.

Towards the end of the so called story, there was an interruption towards the front of the bar. 

The moment stopped once more, but in a quite different manner than how it did when she had first entered.

He hollered out her name, followed by an equally as loud “Where are you?” He turned to a man to his left. “Where is she?” He slurred. The scruffy man only shrugged, scooting away from the drunken one that had walked into the brick building.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” She questioned, slowly walking towards the man, trying not to upset him further. 

“Why’d you leave me, huh?! Why’d you cause a scene and go?” He was hysterical. Tears ran down his red face and his hands feverishly grabbed at his scraggly locks for some sense of comfort. 

“Jake, you’re not in your right mind. Leave me alone and go home, you’re leaving your mother worrying, I’m sure of it.”

Her voice began to shake, ripples of emotion that had been repressed for the past years bubbling up to the surface, taunting her, threatening her, to erupt.

And God, his mother, his poor mother.

The frail old woman was half the reason she had even stayed with Jake in the first place,

Her heart was weak, and her son’s behavior never left her any room to breath. So the girl would dedicate much of her time to cooking meals for the widowed Ms. Nelson, bringing them over and sitting with her for hours on end, speaking with her of Jake’s childhood, memories of her late husband spending time with the boy along with it.

Her favorite stories throughout them all, though, were the ones of Jake’s childhood pup, a golden retriever called Benjamin.

Ms. Nelson loved to tell the story of how odd it was that the young boy chose the human name, rather than something frivolous and fun, like Buddy, or Peanut.

So a teary eyed version of the girl would think back to that story whenever Jake would behave in this manner, she would think of Benjamin and a youthful Jake, frolicking in the Oklahoma fields where Jake had grown up.

An extremely happy child, an even sweeter boy.

But no longer could she do so. Not now, after Jake had gone and betrayed her for some random girl.

Some random girl who would never sit with his mother for hours, listening to her weep about her broken son who she pretended to not notice was silently suffering. Some random girl who wouldn’t comfort him when he had a rough day at work, trying to be an active distraction so that he wouldn’t turn to his vice.

Because she had loved Jake Nelson, even if she wanted to pretend she didn’t.

And it hurt her to walk away, but she had to, for his own good.

Which led her to push the image of a golden fluff ball and the face of a smiling small boy out of her mind completely, weighing herself down to the present, meeting Jake’s sad emerald eyes. She walked forward, taking him by the shoulders. Her voice was hushed as she spoke.

“Jake. You’ve become someone I don’t know, someone that’s hard to love. But I did it anyway for a long, long time. Maybe some other time, perhaps even in another life, we can be together. But that all depends on you.

You’ve hurt me, and I can’t pretend you haven’t any longer, Jake. So go home. Please.”

Her eyes hunted through his, sifting for some sign of reassurance that he understood the gravity of the situation.

“But I love you-” He whispered, acting a stuttering mess. Everyone at the bar had gone back to whatever they were doing before he came into the room, not wanting to involve themselves in whatever mess it was obvious the two of them were in.

She took hold of the brown fabric of his coat, gently turning him towards the door. She walked behind him, her hand not leaving his back for some subconscious fear he would do something he would regret once he was of sober mentality.

She discarded it as nonsense;

But nevertheless, her death grip on him never faltered, even for a moment.

As soon as she made it outside, she waved over a cab, the bright yellow vehicle being the only completely visible object in the cool night.

It pulled over with a loud screech, leaving rubber tracks on the damp asphalt. She wrinkled her nose, before digging around her embroidered bag in a flurry, pulling together $5.27 exactly. She knew it would be enough to cover the long ride from the factory to his home, as the high cost of the ride was one of his many worries he did his best to forget in any way he could possibly fathom.

So she told the cabbie his address, helping Jake into the back of the car. He held her hand and looked up to her with pleading eyes. She squeezed it once before putting his back on his lap.

“Goodnight, Jake.” She smiled softly, briefly touching his cheek before shutting the door. She saw him look out the dirty window, before leaning back into the leather headrest and letting his tired eyes flutter to a close, finding momentary bliss, despite all going on around him.

She took a deep breath, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, watching him until the taxi was just barely visible, to where calling it a yellow blob would be generous. But she followed it with her eyes not a moment later, for she had some explicable fear from a tall-tale her mother had told her long ago, about how you would never see someone again if you watched them off completely.

Whether that be by death or some curious mishap along the journey towards it, she never quite felt the urge to find out. And one could take that as a bitter yet nectarous testament to her feelings towards Jake, but even if she wanted to, she wasn’t even sure if she could herself.

She revolved in zombie like fashion, too caught up in her own world once more, to notice a certain brown haired (soon to be, not that he knew it) sergeant.

A stormy look of displeasure had casted itself across his stark features, but his cerulean eyes remained cordial, almost like a safe haven of calm waters to find refuge in.

And almost like in every cliche love story that ever was, she bumped into Bucky, gasping before transitioning into an expression of her regret, a waterfall of apologies gushing from her lips.

He called her by her nickname once more, catching her attention and making her heart skip a beat.

“Seriously, it’s alright, no harm done.”

She zipped her mouth shut, so to say, and just gave a curt nod before starting to go inside. And ever the gentleman, Bucky let her get halfway to the door before calling out her name. She turned once more, salty droplets beginning to roll down her face. 

“Yes?”

He looked down to his feet and then to the bustling city street beside him. After much contemplation in the span of what felt like hours (but was only a few moments), he met her eye.

“I know it’s not my place, and if you don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, we don’t have to, but what happened in there-”

He paused, taking a deep breath in a futile effort to put his nerves at bay, keep the storm from shore to the best of his abilities. He puffed his cheeks, offering his arm before retreating it again, similarly to the way Jake had however many hours ago.

“You don’t deserve that.” He shook his head, left to right, his ungelled hair shiny under the yellow street lights, making him look like an angel.

“I know.”

He shuffled closer to her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The wind howled around them in an agonizing manner, how lone wolves under a full moon would do the same.

They watched as their frosty breaths floated like smoke in the air, their faces illuminated by the storefront displays lining the streets from Christmas that was only a few days prior, leaving no time to take down the brightly colored decor. You could practically hear the animated Santa Claus’ “Ho ho ho!” from where he sat in the front of a toy store, beckoning those who walked past to come on inside and take a look, maybe spend a few dollars.

But to Y/n, it felt as if the cheery old man was simply mocking her as she was in her current state.

“Really, I mean that, I do.”

Now to reiterate, Bucky was a gentleman, that much was clear. So although he outright wanted to tell her that it seemed as if she didn’t realize her own worth and that, Hell, Steve could treat her better than that punk. But alas, he kept it to himself, only doing his best to comfort her, upsetting her further, never an intention in his mind.

She nodded, giving a tight lipped smile. “Thanks, really.”

She shivered, admiring the red and green lights around her, her glazed over eyes reflecting the image of them beautifully, almost like a work of stained glass art in her iris.

“You wanna head back inside? You look kinda chilly.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m just going to stay out here for awhile.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

All that was heard then, was the clicking of his shoes against the cobblestone, with the occasional car whizzing past. But then, she asked him to stay.

Her voice was soft, so much so, in fact, that she possessed what Bucky would say was mistakable for the voice of a mouse, which he would know after spending as many years around Steve that he had. He almost had missed it, but by some miracle, maybe a lucky star, he didn’t

So he turned around, not saying anything to disturb her seemingly exteriorly serene state, only walking up behind her, pulling off his jacket and placing it on top of her shoulders. He smoothed it out briefly, his touch feather light. For he wasn’t sure if he was breaching a certain level of intimacy, breaking any boundaries, with a woman who was practically a stranger.

“Is this alright?”

She nodded again.

“This is fine.” She closed her eyes, feeling much warmer now, but she was slightly torn on if the newfound comfort was accredited to the jacket resting upon her shoulders, or the company standing patiently beside her.

She was starting to think it might just be a little bit of both.

-

June 14th, 1943

The two's relationship (if you could call it that) was painstakingly slow, not that Bucky ever minded.

Word of the war and when, not who, would get drafted had spread, and any waking second for the past years, she was terrified the man she was developing ever strong feelings for would be ripped away with only a moments notice.

But regardless of that, she had a hard time trusting him, that much was true. It wasn’t his fault, not in the slightest. She wished more than anything to forget her past with Jake, but it was no use. So it took her much time to be able to trust James. But he was patient, and he always stayed.

So when he did get called away, it was a rude awakening.

She had only recently met Steve, before Bucky (who she still called James) was sent overseas. Her maternal instinct she didn’t even know she had immediately kicked into overdrive at first sight of the sickly boy, making her promise Buck that she would watch over him, much to Steve’s dismay. Although, there was no doubt in any of their minds she would in the first place, it was a given.

(Steve secretly loved the way she fussed over him, but he would never admit to that.)

The three of them had a lovely time at the Stark Expo the night before Bucky left, leaving a happy new memory for Y/n to drift to whenever she missed the scent of sandalwood, sweat, and his cologne, that was all uniquely him.

She would picture entangling her arms with Steve and Bucky’s own as she skipped happily, pulling the boys along behind her; not too rough of course, for Steve’s sake

She had been full of an electric happiness that night, stealing kisses with James when Steve wasn’t looking, a pink tint falling upon his plump cheeks. She stole his hat right off his head of hair that she loved to run her fingers through so much and put it on, crooked so much so it nearly fell right off. She wore it the whole rest of the night, Bucky wanting to never see her take it off, if it were possible.

Later that night when he took her home, she stood by the doorway, the porch light doing a sad job of lighting up the area, casting a faint amber glow across James’ features.  

The hairs left astray from where she had Bucky’s hunter green cap previously were lit up, forming a halo. 

She was a wondrous mess, and James simply adored her in that moment.

(He also adored her in any other instance since the minute he had laid his eyes on her, but the point still stands.)

You could smell the grass if you had tried, freshly cut and still damp from the late night shower they had run through while making their way home, turning through twisty alleyways, feet pattering against walkways.

Their hands had been slipping apart the entire time, perhaps an attempt by Freyr for a cruel joke in the last hours the lovers would spend together before James was to leave.

Maybe he was up in the sky at Mount Olympus, laughing down at the two mortals as the girl kept her hand gripped securely around the man’s stronger limb, refusing under any circumstances to let go. Maybe his laugh turned to a fond smile from above, finding pleasure in how his jest resulted in such an act of youthful care, not minding in the slightest that it had been counterproductive in the best ways.

“Thank you, James. I had an amazing night.”

He grinned ear to ear, awkwardly shuffling closer to her silhouette.

“Same here, doll.”

And just like that, she had crumbled like a coffee cake, another warm and itchy wave silking up her neck. Past the neckline of the uncomfortable dress she wore because she knew Bucky loved it (even though he would no longer love it and would insist she never wear it again if his ears heard any words of upset at the garment fall past her lips).

It traveled right past her best pearls with the rhinestone right in the center that she had made sure to wear because James had once told her that they made her eyes sparkle, that sly son of a gun.

The twinkle truly had been there solely because of him on that day and most others, but she would allow him to believe what he wanted to believe until the end of time, if it kept that boyish smile cemented on his pretty face.

But as it eventually always would, his smile began to falter, shifting into a slight pout, then into a full on frown as soon as her eyes had become visibly misty.

Bucky reached a hand forward snatching the cap from her head. She huffed, and he rolled his eyes as he placed it back on his head. 

“I’ll be needing this tomorrow, sorry, sweetheart.”

They both laughed for a moment, the memories of the night still fresh in their young minds.

“I’m going to miss you, James.”

Her chin suddenly quivered, her nose ran, and her thoughts were racing at the speed of light.

She couldn’t lose him. No, not yet, she wasn’t ready, she wouldn’t ever be ready. She hadn't even begun to express to him how much she loved him, let alone that she couldn’t bear to live a day without him (as the information was quite new to her as well). So how in God’s name was she supposed to ship him off to war, just like that, practically a sitting duck for those bastard nazis to poke and prod at all they want?

“I’ll miss you more, darlin’. More than you know.”

They both made an attempt at watery smiles that ended up looking more like two painful grimaces, which was more of a reflection of their current moods than the aforementioned. His eyes pleaded with her to say something, anything. One of her quick witted facts, maybe a scolding perhaps, for having such a negative attitude in the current predicament.

Not able to stare at his collapsing facade any longer, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She quickly reciprocated, placing a strong hand on her waist.

There was a longing look in her eyes as the gears of her brain turned, carefully formulating what she wanted to say.

“Marry me.”

Well, formulating is a strong word.

He laughed at the notion, the sound ringing out and echoing off the small porch. But the whimsical tune soon halted when he realized he was the only one making it.

“Doll, are you serious?”

“Never been more serious about anything in my life, James.” She moved her hands to take his, holding them up to her chest and shaking them as she spoke with a supplicate glance. He said her nickname in a careful manner, trying to articulate a response, muttering something about not having a ring, how their families (Becca included) would be furious they missed the wedding. But she was having none of it.

“Well I’m sure given the circumstances, they’d understand, and if they don’t then oh well. And quite frankly, as for the ring, I could care less, James, make a ring out of paper and slap it on my finger, it's all the same to me. We can go to the court tomorrow morning before I see you off-”

She moved her head down to where Bucky was gazing, tilting it back up with her pointer finger.

“Let me marry you, dammit.”

They laughed for a second, both of them this time, although her’s was much more convincing.

“But why now?”

She paused again, the only sound to be heard was the soft chirping of the crickets hidden in the grass.

“Because I know you're far too much of a gentleman to leave me widowed, James Barnes.”

He pressed soft kisses on her knuckles, meeting her eyes.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Oh, only every day.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled, pulling her in by the waist. He connected their lips, and felt her smile into the kiss. He also happened to feel a hand creeping up to where his hat rested on the crown of his head, but the feeling wasn’t prolonged.

She snatched it off his shiny locks with a devilish grin, a sparkle in her eye shining like the North star Bucky soon would be gazing upon at night to direct him through the dark nights.

“You should keep that on for forever, you know. Looks better on you, anyway.”

She raised a messy eyebrow, the corner of her bright red mouth turning into a smirk.

“Oh really, is that so?”

Bucky hummed and nodded, kissing her nose and watching in delight as it crinkled up and a high pitched giggle escaped from her lips. Then it was quiet for some time, the only thing able to be heard was the droplets of rainwater sliding off the roof and plopping on the floor as her and James stood in contemplation.

“I’ll marry you, doll.”

She smiled at him warmly, leaning into his larger frame completely, the scratchy green fabric of his uniform flush against her cheek.

“I know.”

He barked a loud laugh, and she felt it through the fabric covering his chest, savouring the feeling.

“You know? Well how did you know?”

She only sighed, moving to open her rickety front door, which the whole neighborhood probably knew judging by the squeak that echoed from it.

“Because, just as I said before. You’re a gentleman. You’d never turn down a proposal in public, especially not from me.”

Bucky’s face contorted, and the gears of his head turned as he made an honest effort at understanding how they were in public.

“But, we’re not?”

She shook her head, stepping into her home and then turning to face him straight on.

“Technically, we were on the patio, which is in the yard, which is in the neighborhood, which is in public. Now, if I were to propose to you right now with you-”

She tugged his arm, forcing him into the building. 

“-also in my home, you would have every right to say no.”

She looked up, scanning his features. Admiring his cheekbones, his lips, and his sharp jaw. But most prevalently, she found herself absolutely enchanted by his eyes, as she always was.

“But I won’t.”

“But you won’t.”

She smiled, the look on her face resembling that of a fox smirking at her prey. She waltzed to the door, closing it softly.

“So,” she began, taking hold of Bucky’s hands.

“Tomorrow morning it is, then?”

“I think it is.”

“Whatever shall we do in the meantime?” She questioned, both of them having ideas that were entirely the same.

“I think I might have an inkling of an idea.”

She huffed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“You and your ideas, James. Always ‘thinking’ of something new.”

He only hummed in agreement, nuzzling his forehead against hers, before moving down to her ear.

“I’d like to believe I act on those ideas. Would you agree?”

You can most likely guess her answer.

-

The next morning was a mixture of great sorrow and great joy all at once. Sure, they had to get up at the crack of dawn on what would be Bucky’s last chance to sleep in for a very long time, and sure, the minister had given them very strange looks, but it had been done.

And to the newly wed Mr and Mrs. Barnes, it was worth it completely.

But nearly as soon as the exciting event had ended, she was standing on the slimy pebbles of Brooklyn's Pier 57, doing her best to not lose her footing on the wet stones. She had given James one final goodbye kiss, before watching him board the Dominion Monarch to be shipped off to England.

The large vessel departed, and for once, she allowed a few tears to slip down her blushed cheeks, her smeared mascara coming with it, just as she knew it would. The bitter droplets were warm, a juxtaposition to the feeling in the pit of her stomach formed by the voice nagging at her that Bucky would never see her again. That her wedding day would be the last time she would ever see her husband. It was a possible reality she never wanted to have to face.

And after so long, she decided she was tired of waiting. So she made a call.

“Hello? Is this Agent Margaret Carter?”

-

December 25th, 1943

Bucky Barnes was not opposed to the idea of Y/n joining the army. He was appalled.

So when on the crisp morning of December 25th, it was quite a surprise when he opened what he had presumed to be a letter wishing him a Merry Christmas from his wife, and rather receiving some interesting news.

He had been laying his backside against a tree, the scratchy bark feeling rather uncomfortable. He smiled, smiled at the news of his wife going to war, not that he knew, when Steve handed him the parchment, taking another sip of some watered down joe from an aluminum cup, before excitedly ripping into it like a little boy.

“I wanted to save it for today,” Steve had told him, his chest puffed out in pride for keeping the secret for so long.

Bucky initially had found it humorous and exciting, why wouldn’t he have? But his mood soon changed after reading just a few lines in.

“James, my love,

I hope this message finds you and the rest of the boys in good health, tell them I wish them all a happy Christmas, as well. There really isn’t a simple way to put this, and I hope it doesn’t put a damper on your holiday spirit, but I’ve been tired of sitting around, so I’ve spoken to Steve’s friend, Agent Carter. I now have enlisted in the SSR as Agent Barnes.”

The paper clenched in his fist, his eyes screwing shut. He didn’t even bother reading the rest before standing up and walking over to Steve, a fiery look set in his eyes. Steve soon caught on to his anger, standing up and parting his lips as he neared.

“Steve, did you know?”

Steve, a horrible liar, shrugged, furrowing his brows. “About what? Buck, what's wrong?”

“Don’t lie to me, Rogers! Did you know about her enlisting?”

At that, it went silent in the forest aside from the rustling of the branches, and the chirps of early rising blackbirds. 

The rest of the Commandos turned, eyes wide, shoulders hunched. Steve gestured for them to calm down and return to normal with a dramatic sweep of his arms, with most of them complying, but not without a few snarky comments from Dum Dum and Gabe protesting the treatment.

“Listen, I tried to stop her-”

“Well apparently, you did a horrible job. God, Agent Barnes. That’s what she'll be known as now. We'll have the whole bunch! Sarge and Agent, wow, we are gonna be one decorated family, ain’t that right, Steve?”

Bucky was ranting and rambling now, spewing angry nonsense at Steve as if that would change a thing. Steve felt a pang of guilt, hanging his head and biting his knuckle.

“Buck, is it a problem that she’ll be an Agent?”

Bucky paused, his nostrils flaring and his eyes slanting.

“Of course it’s a problem, Steve! If they put her in the field, God knows what’ll happen! What if I have to see that name on a plaque some day, huh? In a museum, in some memorial for fallen agents.” His arm put emphasis on every word he shouted, and his voice had grown raspy, tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.

Steve sat his exasperated friend down, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. It distressed Steve to see Bucky this upset, after all he had done for him over the years. So if he could try to make him feel even the slightest bit relieved, he would in any way he had to.

“Bucky?”

He looked up, his eyes red and nose puffy.

“Think about how you're feeling right now. The fear, the hurt, the anxiety, all of it.”

“Steve, I don’t get how this is going to help me-”

“Just trust me.”

Bucky nodded, slumping over again.

“That’s how she feels. That’s how she felt when the war was announced, how she felt when you submitted your draft, how she felt when you were called away, Hell, how she feels every second of every hour that you’re not with her.”

“Still not helping.”

“Shut up, jerk.” They laughed, Steve elbowing him in his shoulder. The sound echoed through the lush green of the space, the tension noticeably thinner.

“The point is, the pain that this all has caused for everyone is inevitable, inescapable. So learn from it, and savour it. In the long run, we’ll be okay, Buck. I promise you that.”

James bit his bottom lip, puncturing the chapped skin, the blood pounding in his head making it hard to process what Steve had said. But what he did manage to gather, was that they would be okay.

-

February 11th, 1944

“Peggy, I’m nervous.”

“What? Are you kidding? You must be kidding, you’re ridiculous.”

Peggy gave the girl a dirty look from where she stood behind her in front of the only full length mirror at the base, looking as she straightened out her skirt and touched up her “victory” colored lip.

“I’m not kidding, Peg. What if he’s mad?”

The other agent only laughed, briefly touching her on the shoulder before walking around her to where a map of the Hydra bases they had been tracking were laid out. Peggy fiddled with one of the flags for a moment, speaking to a soldier nearby. She impatiently tapped her crimson nails on the board, the sound driving her friend insane. Peggy then began to speak, not even looking up from where she stood, bent over as she examined something else.

“Darling, the only thing Barnes will be mad about by now, is not seeing you for so long. If he was angry before, he’s long forgotten about it, I assure you that.”

She nodded (even though nobody except a nosy recruit had witnessed it).

“You know what, I think you’re right. Thanks, Peg.”

Margaret half smiled, “mmhm” ing, but keeping her head down. She did, however, lift it up when she heard the other woman’s heels clicking in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me?” Peggy remarked, brows raised and her arms crossed.

Agent Barnes turned, her painted lips beckoning Peggy to go on in a most humorous manner.

“We aren’t done here! Get over here and help me mark this up, I’m nearly finished.”

She rolled her eyes, to which Peggy only rushed her more.

By the time they were done (spoiler, she was not almost finished) several hours had passed, and the camp was now lit only by the lanterns and the moon in the obsidian sky.

The stars were visibly bright that night, twinkling like small diamonds without the restriction of smoke from busy factories and the blockage of the ever so fascinating skyscrapers.

Mr and Mrs. Barnes both were watching the stars that night, smiling at the thought of the other doing the same.

Yes, even Bucky, smiling at the thought of his wife despite his neck developing a crick from having laid on the knapsack in the back of the truck for so long. A lovestruck glance was still plastered on his face as he stared up, the road bumpy underneath the wheels of the vehicle. His body would jolt as a cause from this every once in a while, but he paid it no mind, the soft smile staying put.

Steve watched Bucky’s facial expressions, a grin coming across his own features.

“You thinkin’ about her?”

Steve looked up to the sky.

“Always am.”

-

“I know you want to wait up for him, but I promise as soon as I get word of if he’s here, I’ll wake you. You need rest.”

The agent only smiled, her eyes staying trained on the stars above. “I’ll come to bed soon, Peg. I swear.”

But Margaret knew her friend all too well, so she simply bid her goodnight and shook her head.

She whispered, though her friend was too far away to hear her, laying on her backside and tucking her arms behind her head on the damp grass.

“Goodnight, Peggy.”

She had fallen asleep on the green that night, the stars wooing her into a slumber with thoughts of her beloved. She was only awoken when she felt the ground rumble beneath her, and heard the loud whirring of a hummer engine. She sat up, pressing her hands in the wet soil. She squinted and was barely able to make out two tall men jumping out from the back of the car. 

She was initially unsure of who it was, but a shield being reflected on by the pale moonlight, and a hearty laugh soon confirmed her suspicions. She gasped and only to herself muttered Bucky’s name, picking herself up off the ground, running as fast as her feet could take her. 

“James! James!”

He turned his head from where he was talking to Colonel Phillips, immediately recognizing the voice as his wife’s. By the time he had noticed, she was already to him, so all he could do was welcome her with open arms. Literally.

She jumped into his arms, planting kisses all over his face. He laughed and laughed, Steve, and the Colonel, too, cracking a smile at the two’s reunion. She pulled away momentarily, looking over his dirty face. She ran her fingertips over the scratches and gashes, still having a hard time believing that after all this time, even under all the grime and blood and sweat, it was truly him. 

“Sarge, it’s been awhile.” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Same to you, Mrs. Barnes. Too long.” He commented, leaning forward and burying himself in her neck, allowing her to cradle him. He inhaled her perfume, taking the scent to memory for when he would inevitably have to go away once again, leaving her behind.

(So he thought.)

“That would be Agent Barnes to you.”

Bucky saluted, nodding and throwing a wink in her direction, before leaning in and planting a firm kiss to her lips that now only had remnants of red left around the edges from when she had applied it earlier on in the day. Their voices were now reduced to raspy whispers, both of them completely out of breath.

“Well either way, I’ve missed you greatly, Agent Barnes.”

“I’m glad we feel the same way.”

The two of them also felt extremely tired, leaving them to fall asleep that night packed side by side on a small cot in the corner of Steve’s tent. The brown sheets were horribly scratchy, and they had to mainly rely on each others bodies for heat. But despite this, all felt well, as if this new normal was finally worth it. 

-

In the morning, Steve had wanted to let the pair sleep in as long as humanly possible. The sun rising was one thing the great Captain America couldn't prevent, though. So as yellow light began to stream through the barely there material of their temporary home, the Barnes’ were given a somewhat pleasant awakening. 

Birds sang, bugs hummed, and the loud voices of Steve and Bucky’s soldiers could be heard, along with Steve occasionally hushing them if they came too close to their tent, still trying to preserve their well deserved rest. 

The thought made her smile, eyes slowly coming to an open. Bucky’s hand grew tighter on her waist, running circles on the silky fabric by her hip. Hers delicately made its way to brush messy brown locks from James’ closed eyes, the feeling comparable to a feather tickling the bridge of his nose. 

He scrunched it, blinking a few times, before commiting the view of waking up to the face of his wife for the first time to his memory, locked away to where Hydra would hopefully never take it. 

“Good morning, Agent Barnes.”

She shook her head, snuggling further into his chest and stretching her arms. “Mmmhm, not right now.” He placed a confused hand on her back, tracing a line up and down.“I thought it was only Agent Barnes?”

“Not in bed, James.”She looked up, smiling ear to ear. “Right now, I’m your wife, and only your wife.”

It was quiet in the tent, then. But always the one to break the silence, Bucky began to speak, his morning voice so incredibly low that it sent a shiver down her spine. 

“I mean, being my wife is a job in itself.”

They laughed, she shook her head and whacked his chest.

“Right you are.”

She stood up out of bed, shifting her hair to one shoulder with her hand. The glass on the face of her small watch reflected onto the walls, painting a rainbow stripe of light above Bucky’s head. She moved about, her babydoll pink colored slip moving along with her, almost as a toga would flow behind a goddess in the wind. James watched in amazement from his position propped up on his elbows, complete and total awe evident in his heart eyes for his wife. 

God, how he loved to say that, and hear it roll off of his tongue. Just to think it, even.

His wife.

He truly was a lucky man. And as she felt holes being stared into her back, she turned and giggled at Bucky’s antics.

“Now, I know your mother taught a gentleman such as yourself that ogling at women is rude, hmm?” She questioned, throwing the discarded slip at Bucky’s peeping eyes, then pulling on her uniform and beginning to fix her hair and makeup. Fingers moved quickly and expertly as she went about, her red nails almost appearing to move so quickly they were blurring.

He scoffed, forcing his nimble fingers through his knotted hair that could have been comparable to the nest that the very birds that played a hand in awakening them had resided in.

“Even if that woman is my very beautiful wife who I haven’t seen since I went away for war?”

He looked up, eyes bluer than Bing Cosby’s. (Sure, she had only seen them in the magazines, but hey, they seemed quite nice.) She finished putting on her lipstick, walking over and placing a hand under his chin. He looked up in a dreamy haze, basically begging for her lips to be placed on his.

She rolled her eyes and placed a long and sweet kiss upon his plump lips, restoring some of the color that sleep had stolen from them. She giggled at the lipstick left on his ivory skin, wetting her thumb and smudging it in a poor attempt to remove it. He cocked his head like some sort of puppy, slimming his eyes in an amused confusion.

“I guess that’s an exception.”

She leaned forward, leaving a short peck on his forehead, before ruffling his hair and making her way out of the tent. She briefly stopped hanging onto the post that acted as a door of sorts.

“Also, brush your teeth and hair, James. You stink.”

They smiled goofily at each other and she bit her lip, bidding him goodbye. And with that, she was off.

It was later in the day, now, and Bucky, Steve, and the rest of the commandos were in with the Colonel, discussing an upcoming mission. Peggy and Agent Barnes were decoding some of the Hydra messages the commandos had gathered on their previous mission in their general vicinity at the same time.

The paper was yellowed and stiff under her fingers, her eyes could barely stay focused on the multiple symbols in front of her, practically jumping off the page, vibrating at a high frequency.

She briefly closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to free her mind of the distraction that was her husband and honorary little (not so much now physically, but still) brother planning what sounded like an incredibly dangerous mission.

It was like a buzzing in her ear, the mention of capturing one of Hydra’s most valued scientists, and risking their lives in the process. And of course, he often did do just that, risking his life.

But call it wife's intuition, (Is that a thing? She isn’t sure) but she had a horrible feeling about it in the pit of her stomach. Something was telling her she should hug him a little tighter, kiss him a little harder, that kind of thing. And perhaps it could be discarded as the paranoia that had spread through many spouses as the war had started up, in fact, she wished it was.

Too lost in her own thoughts, it took Bucky’s hand on her shoulder to wake her from her trance. He began to quietly and cautiously speak her name in his position.

She turned, jumping ever so slightly. 

“Doll, you alright? Colonel was calling your name, you seemed real out of it.” He placed a hand on her forehead, then to her cheek, checking for any signs of a possible fever.

She didn’t reply to his concerns, only setting her hand utop his, leaning into him and closing her eyes. She opened them only moments later to see James squinting, his glance serious. He was quiet as he spoke, hesitating slightly. He muttered her name, trying to meet her eyes. He looked to see what was wrong, analyzing her, so badly wanting to fix whatever hurt there was lingering in her heart.

They stayed in that position for a while, the rest of the office seemingly standing still. She was the first to remove her hand, Bucky’s following suite.

“There’s a mission, in the Alps. Colonel wants you to come with the commandos and I, Peggy’s to stay here and work coms. He said something ‘bout needing someone who can sneak into places they shouldn’t be.” He chuckled, the sound bringing slight reassurance to her worrying mind.

“I’ll brief you tonight.”

She nodded, looking to her feet and whispering a quiet “okay”. They exchanged I love you’s, and then all that was heard was the faint clicking of James’ boots as he left her standing.

-

March 2nd, 1945

It was downright freezing in the Swiss forest.

And It would have been unbearable, if it weren’t for the fact she had Bucky to keep her warm, the man acting as a living furnace despite the frigid temperatures. The trek to do recom on the train they were intercepting was treacherous, feet ached, fingers were frosted, and the group spent much of their time (minus Steve, he had done enough of that when he was a sickly 90 pound asmatic) complaining to Mrs. Barnes, much to her dismay.

Usually, she would tell them off with a shake of her head or a slap to the arm, discarding their whines are nonsense.

In return for putting up with said nonsense, the commandos took her under their wing, so to say.

They never treated her differently than the rest of the group (or else she would have probably made her displeasure known, which both James and Steven warned them heavily against). Sharing the scotch, poking fun. In fact, if it weren’t for the nature of their escapade, she would have gone as far to say that she was having fun.

The only exception to this treatment was if she had to change, oftentimes borrowing a henley of Bucky’s or a pair of his trousers, the extra fabric heating her up quite nicely. Bucky would stand in front of whatever tree trunk she was hiding behind, watching to make sure no wandering eyes made any shameful attempts to catch a glimpse.

But overall, they worked well together, and were beginning to grow into a family, not that any of them would admit it.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re the chances this goes horribly wrong?”

He looked to his right to meet her eyes, wrapping an arm around his wife. They both turned back to the landscape of mountains, which were ironically quite beautiful. They were greeted with howling wind biting their noses and cheeks, causing her to let out a yelp, turning her head and tucking into Bucky’s arm briefly. He smiled and stroked the top of her messily tied back hair, allowing her to momentarily find comfort within his hold for what they didn't know would be the last time.

“With me? Nah, We’ll be alright. Zero to none.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled at his cocky behavior as she always would, his smirk settling her nerves.

“Yeah.” She exhaled. “We’ll be alright.”

-

March 4th, 1945

The brick remains of the pub were dimly lit by the lone street lamp standing bravely on the cobblestone, illuminating the puffy faces of the two sitting inside. Steve, stone cold sober, and Agent Barnes, drunk and with tears streaming down her flushed skin. The dust had barely settled; it could still be felt, burning her nostrils.

She heard heels, a telltale sign that Peggy had arrived, sorting through the rubble.

She had approached calmly, observing the situation. Steve muttered something about not being able to get drunk, earning some heartfelt speech from the other agent and a proclamation of a newfound fire for justice in Steve. But Peggy’s sorrowful glance soon became unreadable, then transitioning into one of anger and sympathy, however that was possible.

She tried calling the surviving Barnes’ name, voice stern. She snatched the bottle from her friends hand, noticing she had downed the whole thing.

She began some winded spiel, none of it processing, only a faint buzz in one ear out the other.

“I know you’re hurting, but James would have wanted you to pick yourself up, an-”

“He lied. You know that? The bastard lied.”

She wiped a singular tear from her left eye, staring blankly at the ring that still managed to shine even then, in what was close to total darkness in every sense.

“He said that we would be alright. That him and I would be okay. And then he went and you know what he did, Peg? He died.”

Steve looked up, and stood, walking to where she was across from him. 

He gently tugged her up and wordlessly pulled her into a hug.

She was stiff as a board at first but slowly melted into it, realizing that it felt nice to be cared for by him like she did all those years ago, the favor being returned when she most needed it.

“We’ll fix this, I promise.”

She closed her eyes tighter, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“I know.”

-

May 26th, 1945

“Steve, I’m not leaving you!”

“Go, grab the parachute and go, I’ll send your coordinates to Peggy! Both of us don’t have to die.”

“Steve, it’s alright.”

He met her eyes, water pooling in both of their orbs.

“I’ll be with him.” She forced a smile, taking hold of one of Steve’s gloved hands.

“It’s not too late for you to go, Stevie. I’ll put her in the water. If you wait any longer you won’t make it.”

The time was passing, they could hear the uncomfortable sloshing of the Arctic water below them, coming closer and closer. Jagged ice taunted them, glistening faintly in the light.

“Please, don’t do this to Peg.”

Steve had made his decision, as had she.

“See you on the other side, Barnes.”

The sound was difficult to decipher at the command center, static intercepting the voices of the pair as they bargained with death. But it was clear enough in order for everyone to realize what was happening.

Heads were bowed, tears fell, and even the Colonel allowed a salty drop to roll down his weathered cheek.

Steve and Peggy conversed, while Barnes sat next to Steve, closing her eyes. She was content. She was finally going home.

“I’d hate to step on your-”

Then, the line went dead.

“See ya, Rogers.”

-

2011

“This guy is still alive!”

“And the girl?”

The other man only shook his head.

-

2013

Skye dragged her finger along the etchings on the gray stone, mentally reading the names of fallen soldiers and agents.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history can be traced on walls like this.”

Then she came upon something peculiar. Her finger lingered momentarily, the name on the plaque bringing back memories of when she was a young girl in school, learning about James Buchanan Barnes, one of two Howling Commandos to have died in the line of duty. The other, she couldn’t quite seem to remember.

“Huh. Bucky Barnes.” She looked a moment longer, reading the script underneath James’ name. 

“There was another Barnes?”

She turned to Agent Ward who was standing behind her, arms crossed and chin down.

“Yeah. They were married. Some say she put that plane in the water on purpose. That she could have left, but wanted to see him again after he died.

Puts it in perspective- What we do.”

-

2014

The lights in the exhibit were bright, too bright. Faces were plastered everywhere, familiar faces. The soldier felt lost without his handler, no direction whatsoever as he aimlessly wandered.

Aimlessly wandering, what a foreign concept. Not running from an enemy, or sneaking around, a shadow. Free to do whatever he pleases.

He saw his own reflection on a glass panel, information of who he supposedly was written next to it, about when he was born, when he had died. Videos playing on repeat of him and Steve nearby caught his attention, leading him to slowly make his way towards the shiny screen. He saw himself laugh, smiling with whoever this Steve guy was.

Then the screen switched to him and a girl.

In a slight contrast, the girl was the one laughing this time, her smile igniting something within the soldier, overwhelming him with a flurry of emotion and realization.

He panicked, turning to his left, only to see her again, standing next to him in a large mural. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A voice began to speak, clouding his senses even more.

It spoke about Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers, how they were “inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.”

It continued, and his confusion grew even further. It mentioned a girl who had what he learned to be his last name.

Not a mother, or a sister, but a wife.

“They became the only Howling Commandos to give their lives in service of their country."

Her name rang in his head, over and over again. He was married, he had a wife.

Had.

He walked up to where her clothes were displayed under her portrait, reaching a tentative hand out and feeling the fabric, rough from time. He could remember doing that before, but the fabric was silkier, then. It was different as a whole. It was pink satin, and the wearer was his wife, he now could see.

He was in a tent, laying on a scratchy cot, the girl laying with him, in his arms.

“Right now, I’m your wife, and only your wife.” Her smile and laugh were heavenly, her voice like honey. Her touch was smooth and left a tingle in its wake, bringing peace to his bustling mind.

Then he was suddenly back in the museum, hand still planted firmly on the hem of the shirt.

“Excuse me? Sir? You can’t be touching that.”

The soldier turned, facing the scrawny worker. His glasses were too large, hair too short, and pants 2 sizes too big. He gulped, doing a double take from the mural of James Barnes (who last time he checked a history book, had his remains somewhere buried under piles of ice and snow in the mountains of the Alps) and the man in front of him, who matched the recently trending image his coworker showed him of the Winter Soldier, the assassin who had over two dozen kills under his belt.

And if this were a mission, the soldier would have killed the man, executed him without second thought.

But now, he had free will. He had a choice.

So he chose to mutter a low “sorry” under his breath, pulling his baseball cap further over his brow and exiting the facility as quickly as possible.

The worker quit that night.

-

2016

A feed began to play on the tiny screen that Tony, Steve, and Bucky were crowded around, no video, just black with a thin line, moving in accordance with the audio. The sound was choppy, like it had been modified.

Zemo’s beady eyes slanted, a cold smile growing on his bearded face.

“I’ll be with him.”

“What the hell is this?” James yelled the question aimed towards both Zemo and himself.

But Steve knew exactly what it was, knew that voice, knew the feeling of the cold water enveloping him as he did his best to keep her warm in her final moments, a final favor for both Bucky and his wife.

“It’s not too late for you to go, Stevie. I’ll put her in the water. If you wait any longer you won’t make it.”

It was quiet, the line stopped moving. 

“See you on the other side, Barnes.”

“See ya, Rogers.”

The audio cut out.

“It’s her.” Bucky’s metal fist audibly clenched, his eyes darkening.

“You let her die, Steve.”

“Buck-”

“You killed her! I had a wife, and you let her die!”

Steve backed up, instinctively raising the shield from Bucky once more.

“That was her choice, Bucky.”

He was calm. Too calm.

“I don’t give a damn what her choice was, you should’ve pushed her out of that damn plane if you had to.”

“She wouldn’t have survived that fall, Buck, even with a parachute, she probably would have drowned, or gotten hypothermia or-”

“You don’t know that!”

Bucky rushed forward, anger infiltrating every fibre of his being. He threw a punch with his metal arm, a loud clang ringing out as it collided with the vibranium shield.

-

2024

“We’ll meet again

Don’t know where, don’t know when

But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day”

The room was pitch black aside from the blinking light on the record player, letting Bucky know that power was still running through the wires of the machine, keeping the same song spinning, over, and over, and over again.

The same one that’s been playing for the past 2 months. Over, and over, and over again.

The door creaked, sending a stream of light cascading across Bucky’s ridden features from his place where he was sat staring blankly at her tags laying in his flesh hand. He had started wearing them when she insisted, just in case anything were to happen to her, she wanted him to have a physical reminder of her. He had refused to give her his own, not wanting to admit anything might go wrong to where she would need them.

What a joke.

Zola had recovered them from around his neck, later to be stored away and then found by Steve in 2015 during a Hydra base invasion. He had immediately recognized the name pressed onto the material, and assumed someone who was an undercover agent snagged them during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., never thinking anything more of it.

“This isn’t healthy, man.” Sam spoke softly from the door, his hand never leaving the doorknob.

“When we got snapped away, I didn’t mind it.”

Sam opened the door even more, sliding in the slim crack, closing it behind him.

Bucky’s glance never faltered.

“I thought that maybe, I’d finally see her again. And, I know it was selfish-” He laughed dryly, meeting Sam’s warm eyes.

“But she wasn’t there. When I died, she wasn’t there.”

Sam’s arms were crossed, now, and he was unsure of how to proceed with the fragile shell of a man in front of him.

“Then everyone came back 5 years later, she still wasn’t there.” He chuckled once more, feeling over her name on the plates, tossing the chain over his head. It was quiet, the record stopped.

“And this sounds crazy, but I got to thinking, that she must still be alive-”

“You know she’s gone, Bucky.”

James stood up, walking over to Sam, a terrifying blaze set in his eyes. He was frantic, hands moving about the air, neck straining.

“She’s not, Hydra has her! I’m certain, just like they had me. What else would explain her not being there?”

“You’re in denial,”

“No, I’m not! She’s waiting for me! She’s waiting for me to come find her, Sam!” He yelled, every word louder than the last.

And Sam Wilson had enough. 

“Alright, that’s it.” He grabbed James by the wrist, taking his chances.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting some sense into you.”

More yelling and fighting ensued, all the way to the car, Bucky only ceasing his behavior upon realizing where they were heading. He was silent, then.

Getting out of the vehicle, they stepped onto freshly wet soil, green patches fading to a burnt orange, the rain a poor attempt at revival. They could hear their own footsteps all the way to their final destination, turmoil settling in.

“Why’d you take me here, Sam?”

It had started raining, the cold droplets making his hair stick to his forehead, and his tears invisible.

Mere inches before him sat two headstones, both fairly worn. The first, reading “Cap. Steven Grant Rogers, a true American hero. Loving brother, friend, and son.”

The second? Her.

Most of the words all blended together, it was clear Steve’s was the only one that had any regular visitors, willing to clean off any dirt or grime, or occasionally bring flowers (always red roses for Cap, as for his wife, he hoped that when it did happen, it was her favorites, lilies. He doubted it was, though). 

The only words that managed to stick out, at least to him, were “Barnes” and “loving wife”. He inhaled, capturing the scent of fresh rain and roses, grounding him. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, giving a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry I had to do that, but she’s gone, you know?”

He nodded, squatting down in an awkward position.

“Can I have a minute?”

Sam nodded, turning to go.

“‘Course, I’ll be in the car.”

Bucky waited until he could no longer see the outline of the shorter man, before taking the tags off from where they rested around his neck, positioning them utop the marble slab. He gathered a few weeds, messily shoving them into the vase, dirt and stray blades of grass falling all over the place. He tried to brush it off, only creating a sludge-like watery mixture.

He leaned forward, taking hold of the hard stone.

“I’m coming for you, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll find you.”

“Bucky?” Sam yelled from the car, confused at the extended amount of time his friend was taking.

James turned, yelling over his shoulder, “Coming!”

-

Once Bucky got back to the car, Sam reached over and patted his back, starting the engine.

“You think you’re gonna be okay?”

James only smiled, looking out behind him to where they all said was her final resting place, excitement for the future running through his veins.

“Yeah.” He said, sitting further back into the seat, closing his eyes. 

“I’ll be alright.”

·。·☆·。·。

hi!

disclaimer: (skip if u dont care) so i’ve had personal expiriences w alcoholism, and my pov has changed so much on the disease and as well as how to handle it w more empathy, and i just hope that is conveyed. my hope w my work is never to upset or offend anyone, and i hope u enjoyed. if u have a prob w anything, shoot me a message or ask to chat :)

go drink water, eat protein (if u can!) and take an electronics break. i love u, 

xx hj

#tw alchohol mention #tw alchoholism #tw denial #tw character death #tw war #if theres any more tw u want me to tag lmk pls #bucky barnes #40s!bucky x reader #40!s bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #steve rogers #Sebastian Stan #Seb Stan #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #seb stan imagine #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes x oc #seb stan x reader #seb stan x reader smut #sebastian stan imagines

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 25: Wish

I squeaked by submitting the word doc on this one bc I was so weirdly. invested. akdlhsflkdg

I wrote, briefly, about one of Aymeric’s exes, so it felt only right to introduce one of Serella’s! How fun!

word count: 2,120

It was a rare thing, Serella wishing on a shooting star. As a child, she did it every time she saw one, and had always had the sort of wishes that come with youthful naivete. Having been forged into a tool for the betterment of the realm, and having long grown out of those childishly selfish sort of wishes, she knew them better as a channeling mechanism, as a broad expanse of energy she could tap into. She knew them better as a chart to map out her course, as a balm to heal the hurts of those around her.

Even now, stood not far from a banquet table with a flagon of mead in hand, eyes watching the way Hyana, Estinien, and Aymeric all spoke in animated whispers and all dressed in finery befitting this Gridanian gala, Serella was reluctant to make wishes, to hope for something for herself. Admittedly, she had taken the excuse of wanting more mead to just observe the three of them from afar. Aymeric, dressed down but still elegant, all fine leather and soft cloth in that shade of blue she could only associate with him, eyes crinkled in a smile in that way that only happened when it was genuine, and only really happened in their company. Even Estinien had managed to dress up a bit, though she suspects that had a lot to do with Hyana wrangling him into it— and ah, Hyana. She was resplendent, wrapped in a gown that looked to be made of the forest itself, she moved with the grace and power of water itself, and Serella watched, transfixed.

The three of them made a stunning constellation upon wish she could chart her course, a guide home when she was lost. A pity, then, that Hyana and Estinien yet hesitated in joining. Someday, I’ll be useful enough to justify it to them, she thought to herself— and ah, there was a wish, she supposed. She had memorized every constellation, every gate for an Astrologian to open, and still, she could think of no better stars to wish on than the three of them, and chose to make it enough that she wished for them to be happy.

So enchanted and thoroughly distracted, she hadn’t realized she was being watched until she felt a nauseatingly familiar aether close in on her. It was a heavy feeling, like standing in a room that had only moments before been on fire, smoke filling her lungs and weighing her down, oppressive and heated. On reflex, Serella’s hackles raised in anticipation for the source of that uneasy feeling. 

“Ella Bella!” Called the wraith from her past.

Serella didn’t turn her head to look at the woman who had called her in such a tittering, birdsong voice. Her hands curled tighter around her flagon.

“Lady Eveanne.” She replied evenly, eyes fixed on her constellation. 

“You remember me!” The Gridanian noblewoman gasped in exaggerated relief. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, my how things have changed!”

“And yet stayed the same.”

For a start, that larksong voice of hers had grated against some of her more benign nightmares, scraping and simpering as it was, talking about Serella and at Serella without speaking with her. Always, always about, “My little doll might be a little broken, but she’s still made of sturdy porcelain, isn’t she?” 

Little wonder Serella had foregone relationships for so long after she lad left Gridania.

“Why won’t you look at me, little doll?” She crooned.

You’re the Warrior of Light. You have expectations and titles and a job in the military and you have to be better than breaking her fucking jaw in.

“I’m too busy watching my partner.” Serella admitted, and really, it was true; Aymeric alone was more pleasant to look at, never mind the fact that there were two other people just as stunning as he was.

With her newly formed habit of making a wish upon a star, she begged him to notice her gaze as she took a long pull of her mead. Its sweetness settled on her tongue just as his eyes met hers, bright stars all their own, brilliant blue giving her a warm smile that turned inquiring, gaze drifting.

She hadn’t realized where he was looking until she felt Eveanne’s hand on her arm. She nearly jumped from the contact, and swiftly moved her arm to fold behind her back, out of reach.

“You found a partner?” The noblewoman spoke up in that higher pitch she often took when she was feigning interest in conversation. “Ohh, where…?”

Serella hadn’t realized she would use the opportunity to lean into her personal space, pretending to peer out into the crowd. It was, perhaps, unbecoming to stumble backwards, away from her, but the scent of her perfume— rose hips and lavender— rankled her.

Looking at her was worse.

We’re the same height now. Serella realized, and something about that angered her. Eveanne hadn’t aged a day in the near decade it had been since they had last seen one another, her chestnut hair held back in artful pleats folded over in a delicate hairpin bejeweled to resemble a peacock. The motif continued in her dress, all rich silks of blue, green, and tinges of gold. She looked, as ever, too opulent for her setting. She was the sort of woman who would show up to a funeral in a cherry red ballgown and insist her black sash was appropriate.

“Ahh, now she looks at me!” Eveanne beamed, clapping her hands together in front of her face once. “And how strange, my little doll is not so little anymore.”

Hands still pressed together, she tilted them to press against her own cheek, scrutinizing Serella. Uninterested in her, Serella turned back toward where Aymeric was now speaking in hushed whispers with Estinien, as if he were hurriedly trying to end the conversation— or perhaps talk Estinien out of something reckless. Or both.

Hyana was conspicuously absent. Serella couldn’t find her in the crowd.

“Was it the little bird in the green dress?” Eveanne asked. “Is it her?”

Serella didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to properly respond, and Eveanne wasn’t worthy of the knowledge anyroad.

“You’re not being properly cared for.” Eveanne continued, and the way the words stretched under her sneer made the way she pursed her lips audible enough that Serella knew exactly what expression she was making without looking. “Dresses don’t suit you anymore. You’re so boxy now.”

She would think that, the petite slip of a woman. Serella recalled a harvest festival attended on her arm, hearing her go on about how no one there dressed to suit their frame— or can’t afford to! She had laughed at her own joke, joined in by the cronies that had wanted some of her influence. Even then, Serella hadn’t understood the joke, beyond just being said to be cruel.

In hindsight, it should have been an informative, illuminating experience on Lady Eveanne Deautimoix overall.

“Such is the way of adventurers and Paladins alike.” Serella shrugged, and frowned deeply when she realized her flagon was empty. She set it aside on the table with a grimace, hating that there was nothing to occupy her hands now. Folding them tightly over her humble olive skirts, her creme sleeves and bust seemed stark, but she had thought her dress lovely. “And any piece of clothing will suit the wearer if it is properly tailored.”

“Ohh, did you learn that on your adventurers?”

“I learned many things. Not the least of which was how to be happy.” Serella hoped and prayed and wished with everything that she was that that would be enough for her to just leave.

“Were you truly so unhappy with me?” 

“I didn’t even know what happiness was with you.” Serella sneered, at the end of her patience. “I had to turn into a Warrior of Light before I even remembered the concept.”

“Oh, Ella Bella mine,” Eveanne crooned. Then, quick as lightning, darting out like a snake with its fangs bared, her hand caught Serella’s chin and turned her head to face her. “A Warrior of Light. Finally, my broken little doll found her use—”

“Let. Go.” Serella warned, voice a low snarl, her disgust evident. “Or I will break your arm.”

Eveanne opened her mouth to retort, likely with an, oh, you wouldn’t hurt me, which would be setting herself up for disappointment, really, but then before either of them could really react, Eveanne’s cold fingers left her face. Forcibly. 

Serella blinked owlishly, not entirely certain when Hyana had come over or how much of the conversation she had heard, but it was apparently enough to move her to wrenching Eveanne’s arm away, bending it in such a way that it seemed on the edge of snapping.

“What kind of arrogant little prick do you have to be,” Hyana snarled low, eyes burning with rage. “To try something like that with a Warrior of Light?”

Eveanne had never known the threat of danger. In all the time Serella had known her, her privilege had always been enough of a shield to keep most everyone at arm’s length from her. 

Hyana, for a thousand blessings, was not most people.

“Oh, are you her new handler?” Eveanne hissed, unaware that Hyana would, in fact, break her arm.

“Hyana, let her go. It’s alright.” Serella reassured with a tip of her chin.

Hyana didn’t seem keen to let go— for a blessing, Aymeric managed to beat Estinien through the crowd to join them, though the moment his eyes settled on Hyana grasping the woman’s forearm, he stilled.

“Eveanne, if you value the use of your arm, shut the fuck up.” Serella hissed, at least grateful she’d had a wish from some decade past granted in that regard. “No one is my handler— and just because you saw me as your charity pet doesn’t make you one, either.”

She turned kinder eyes to Hyana, still straining with the effort to not break her arm. “Let her go. I promise, it’s alright.”

Hyana still didn’t move, not until their eyes met for a long, long moment. Though she still burned with fury, she threw Eveanne’s arm into her torso.

“I see you near her again, I’ll be licking your blood of of my blade. Are we clear?” Hyana snarled in low warning.

The stillness of the gathering was not lost on Serella. Her ears burned. She had just wanted mead, how did it come to this? Even still, she couldn’t help but marvel at the three of them, all rage wrapped in finery, all upset on her behalf.

That was still something she needed to get used to, she supposed.

In much the same way she had done with Hyana, Aymeric turned gentle when he turned to step at her side. “Are you well?” He asked, his hand warm at the small of her back.

Eveanne gasped. At the sound, instantly, Aymeric’s gaze steeled as it darted to her.

“I know you.” Aymeric said, voice thick with open contempt. “Lady Deautimoix. Just influential enough to buy your way into politics but not important enough to have power over them.” He scoffed. “That you would have the confidence to disrespect a war hero so blatantly offends all sense and sensibility.”

Her heather gray eyes were wide with horror. It was a strange look on her, fear. Serella felt a little bad to take some measure of glee from it.

“I...forgive me, Lord Speak—”

“I am not the injured party. She has made her intentions clear.” His reply was swift but curt.

Eveanne left, and melted into the crowd with some semblance of shame— or a publicly acceptable facsimile of it, at least.

The noise of the celebrations resumed as quickly as it stopped, and the three closed in on her, all alarmingly gentle.

“You’re alright?” Estinien asked, the most reserved, though his gaze was discerning.

“I’m fine— really, I’m fine.” Serella shrugged them all off. “Really, I’m used to it—”

“Used to that?” Aymeric balked.

“That’s...more or less how relationships have been. Like with her.” She shrugged again, uncomfortable with their shocked gazes. “I was useful. And when I was useful enough, I was rewarded with affection. That’s...that’s how it works, right?”

The silence was sharp and loud in her ears, and it answered for all of them in the wake of their upset.

“I’m breaking both of her arms.” Hyana said, gathering her skirts and turning heel.

“I’ll make sure there are no witnesses.” Estinien mused, already stepping in line with her.

“No.” Serella and Aymeric said at the same time.

They stopped, however reluctantly.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #I am as ever your shield #unstoppable forces and immovable objects #Serella Arcbane #Hyana Geriel #Aymeric de Borel #Estinien Wrymblood #'why is her ex such garbage?' great question definitely not based on real life events #'why does Serella think the way she does about herself when she's a WoL?' also excellent question trauma doesn't care #I wanted to write more articulately about her actual relationship trauma #but I was literally running down the clock it's the first time I've had to submit a google doc link ahdfuighilu #ANYWAY I HOPE THIS SPARKS JOY

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.4

Camelot. Present. Night. (The guards light fires in grates all over the city. A Dorocha sweeps past some candles in the Physician’s Chambers and blows out some of them. Knights patrol the streets with torches. Sir Bedivere lags behind when he sees/hears something. He walks over to some barrels and finds three small children huddling behind them.) Sir Bedivere: “Hey, hey, hey. It’s all right. It’s all right, you’re safe now. (Bedivere hears the Dorocha and checks to see the knights walking in the distance. He leaves the torch and runs through the street with the children in his arms. A Dorocha streaks right for them and Xena jumps out with a torch just in time. Gabrielle takes one of the kids and they bring them to their parents inside a house. To Xena:) Thanks.” Xena: “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?” (They grin at each other.)

Storybrooke. Library. (Will and Alice play chess while Robin and Belle read through several books.) Alice: (Taking Will's knight:) "Check. Do you know after all those games we played while I was in the tower, you never once beat me?" Will: (Making his move:) "Did you know I never tried?" Alice: (Indignant:) "Come on!" Will: "Well, I might’ve tried a little." Alice: "Uh huh." Will: "Just set the board up again. (Will rises out of his chair and walks over to Robin:) She's really something, all right. If Wicked Witches are your type, which I get. You're still together, then?” Robin: “That is not relevant.” Will: “Hey, no judgments here, mate. It’s not like she made a fool out of you, just that other version of you.” Robin: (Sighs:) “I just want Zelena to be happy, even if she thinks... Wait!” (Robin pulls out a book, hopeful of finding something.) Will: (Pulling out a book of his own, surprised by the pop-up pictures when he opens it:) “Whoa!” Robin: “1988 Mercedes-Benz 560SL repair manual. (Puts the book back, deflated:) All due respect, I'm beginning to think your magic-library theory might be a tad off. Any book we want is hardly gonna be stacked beside... (Takes out another book:) ‘The Cat in the Hat.’ Why would a cat want a hat?” Will: “I've seen stranger.” (Robin walks over to Belle who has several books stacked high.) Robin: “What are you working on, Belle?” Belle: (Looking up from a book:) "What? Oh, I just received a message not long ago from Camelot. Apparently there were spirit sightings from one of their villages and in the lower town. According to this text, last night was Samhain’s Eve." Robin: "So?" Belle: “So, it is said that on the stroke of midnight of Samhain’s Eve, is when the veil between the worlds is at its thinnest. The appearance of those spirits cannot be a coincidence.” Robin: “You think the barrier between our world and the spirit world has been broken? How can that be?” Belle: “I’m not sure. But if someone has torn the veil between the worlds, then God help us all.”

Swan-Mills House. (Regina is sitting in the garden staring at family photos when Henry joins her.) Henry: “Hey. Well, you will be happy to know that things with Ella went pretty well.” (Regina smiles, putting the photos aside.) Regina: “I guess we'll just have to see where that goes, won't we? Keep me in the loop, I'm pretty good with advice.” Henry: (Joining her on the bench:) “And how are you with precocious little girls?” Regina: “Your sister went down about an hour ago.” Henry: “Good. So, uh, what are you looking at?” Regina: “Oh, just some photographs your grandmother dropped off. They’re from Emma’s birthday.” (Hands them to Henry.) Henry: “Oh, great. (Looking through them:) This reminds me that I have to convince either Snow or David to buy a smartphone.” Regina: “Don’t you dare. Pearl’s Presto Photo Shop is barely still in business as it is.” Henry: “Hm. I’m glad Emma was here with us for her birthday.” Regina: (Nods:) “She’s spent far too many of them alone.” Henry: “You know, I don’t thank you enough for my childhood. Being born in prison, if you hadn’t adopted me, I would’ve grown up in the same system as Emma. Thank you, Mom.” Regina: (Smiles:) “You’re welcome. I just hope wherever your mother is, she finds her way back to us before her next birthday.” Enchanted Forest. Past. (Sitting by the campfire, Emma is lost in her thoughts while Mulan and Tiger Lily discuss Tinker Bell and their chances of returning home.) Tiger Lily: "Tink's progress is encouraging. She's come such a long way in a short amount of time." Mulan: "Won't that be a little suspicious if she's advancing quicker than the other fairies?" Tiger Lily: "I've thought of that. I've told Tinker Bell not to be tempted to show off her skills. Blue is already down on her for rule breaking so Tink must be careful." Emma: "No." (Mulan and Tiger Lily turn to Emma.) Tiger Lily: "I'm sorry?" Emma: "Being careful never lead anyone in history to greatness." Mulan: "So what are you saying?" Emma: "I'm saying that I miss my family and I want to go home. (Turns to look at them with a glint in her eye:) But before that, I see no problem with testing Tink's skills fully and at the same time giving Regina a birthday she's not soon to forget."

Camelot. Present. Council Chambers. Morning. (Villagers crowd into Camelot with the belongings they can carry. Guinevere discusses the refugee villagers with Lancelot, Belle and Agravaine.) Lancelot: “They’re coming from across the kingdom. They’re looking to Camelot for protection.” Guinevere: “And we will give it to them.” Agravaine: “We cannot house them all.” Guinevere: “We have to try.” Agravaine: “How? We cannot live like this forever, Your Majesty. We must find a way to vanquish these creatures. We’ve suffered fifty dead, maybe more. Mainly in the Lower Town.” Guinevere: “And there’s no way of fighting them?” Lancelot: “No, our only weapons are torches. And the light doesn’t kill them, it only repels them.” Guinevere: “What are they?” Belle: “They’re Dorocha, Your Majesty. The spirits of the dead. On Samhain’s Eve in the time of the Old Religion, the High Priestesses would perform a blood sacrifice and release them.” Agravaine: “But who’d do such a thing now?” Lancelot: “Morgana.” Guinevere: “You see her hand in this?” Lancelot: (Shrugs:) “We know she was travelling to the Isle of the Blessed.” Guinevere: (To Belle:) “How do we defeat these creatures?” Belle: “I don’t know, Your Majesty. No mortal has ever survived their touch.” Lancelot: “Somewhere in all your books, Belle, there must be something. All I’m asking for is a way to fight them.” Belle: “I fear the Dorocha cannot be defeated by swords and arrows. If I’m right, and the veil between the worlds is torn, then there’s only one path open to us. To travel to the Isle of the Blessed and repair it.” Lancelot: “And how do I do that?” Belle: “I’m not sure. But for the tear to be created would’ve required a blood sacrifice. To seal will require another.” Lancelot: (Nods:) “We ride before nightfall.” (The others are surprised.) Agravaine: “And who will be the sacrifice?” Lancelot: “If laying down my life will spare the people of Camelot, then that is what I must do.”

Forest. (Agravaine rides through the woods. Arriving at a hovel, he dismounts his horse and enters without knocking.) Hovel. (Looking around he sees no one, but the place is clearly being occupied. Suddenly a dagger is held to his back.) Agravaine: “My lady?” Morgana: “My lord. (Agravaine sighs, relieved:) I trust you bring me good news. (She lowers the dagger and walks further into her home:) Tell me.” Agravaine: “The kingdom is on its knees.” Morgana: “How terrible.” Agravaine: (Chuckles:) “Indeed.” Morgana: “What of the poor people?” Agravaine: “More fall every night.” Morgana: “Such a shame.” Agravaine: “You should know that Lancelot intends to vanquish these creatures.” Morgana: (Scoffs:) “Impossible.” Agravaine: “He makes ready to go to the Isle of the Blessed as we speak. If the Dorocha don’t kill him on the way, our brave little lamb intends to sacrifice himself to repair the veil. (Morgana thinks it over and turns away:) Something’s troubling you. Morgana?” Morgana: “Something the Cailleach said. She spoke of someone called Merlin. Called him my doom.” Agravaine: “Your doom? What did she mean?” Morgana: “I don’t know.” Agravaine: “Morgana, we should be celebrating. Lancelot will be dead within the week, Guinevere will be inconsolable, leaving the throne open for Camelot’s rightful heir.” (Morgana smirks.)

Enchanted Forest. Past. Palace. (The courtiers are gathered to celebrate Queen Regina's birthday. Notably absent from his wife's big day, King Leopold's throne is occupied by his daughter, Snow White. As was the case for her previous birthday, Regina is disappointed to learn that most of the gifts on the large table are not addressed to her, but rather the King's daughter.) Snow White: (Beaming to a courtier:) "Thank you, so much. (To the room at large:) And thank you all for making this day, so special." (Snow basks in the applause while Regina remains seated, barely able to keep her forced smile upon her face. As the applause dies down however, the sound of drums can be heard from the streets below. At the blare of trumpets, Snow, Regina and several courtiers make their way over to the large balcony. Marching to the beat and clad in green and gold tunics, the drummers are followed by dozens of women dressed in beautiful violet dresses. Glancing at her step-mother, Snow White gauges the genuine surprise upon Regina’s face then returns her attention to the parade.)

(It's an explosion of colour, music and excitement as the parade continues. There's dancing, singing and exotic animals on display, all gathered to celebrate the Queen's birthday. Regina begins moving to the beat while Snow looks on aghast. The menagerie of animals draws several audible gasps as well as 'oohs' and 'ahhs' of wonderment. Mirroring the ostriches stampeding through the streets, Snow White turns and runs from the room, unnoticed by all but Regina, causing a genuine smile to cross her lips for the first time that day. After the monkeys, lions and elephants raise the crowd's enthusiasm into a frenzy, numerous explosions cause a shower of gold and glitter to flutter down onto the people below. Finally, a large scroll unfurls with huge lettering to deliver one unmistakable message...)

Happy Birthday, Regina.

(Standing amongst the applauding crowd, Emma stares up at Regina, having not taken her eyes off the Queen since she emerged onto the balcony, to watch her brilliant smile.) Emma: (As Regina wipes a tear from her eye:) "Happy Birthday, Babe."

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

[dobriking]

Bend Into A Break (2)

Summary: Not one, but two vlog-squads came with the death of Vine. And the rumored beef between you two is absolutely true! So, you and David (begrudgingly) set up a month long-retreat among your groups to film team challenges and go against each other. Y’know. For views. Pairing: David Dobrik x Reader, Enemies to Lovers, living together. Warnings: Profanity, Arguing

1 | 2 | 3

“Sorry, what?” Heath’s the first before the outbreak.

With your hands hooked together in front of your stomach, you take in a breath but don’t find the courage to let anything out. He’s not mean — certainly not to you at least — but his voice is so harsh about it. You look to David thinking he’d have something to say to tame Heath but he looks back at you. He’s not smiling snobbishly or anything. He’s keeping the baton passed to you.

And inside his head, there’s nothing malicious about it. He admits despite what he knows about this whole thing that it’s best if you explain it.

“We — me and David uh…” one last look and this time he encourages you with a nod. Your two groups, sitting as scrunched together as can be on David’s living room couch, bond with looks over how peculiar this is. “We decided that…it would be really good in terms of content and material means to—“

He drops the supportive look and rolls his eyes, stepping up to shout (quite coolly), “We’re going to be living and fighting with each other for a little bit. No big deal.”

In a moment of worry none of David’s group has ever seen, your Cody breaks the silence with a strained, “What?”

And then hell breaks loose.

“I-I think,” Drew looks around, “I think this is a joke…or-or something…”

Cody crosses his arms. “Definitely not funny.”

“Cause I am definitely not living with him.” Zane snorts almost, pointing to Cody without sparing a look.

You smile, balls of your cheeks as high as you can raise them. “Well good! Cause you are!” David chokes on his laughter and that provokes everybody even more.

Heath jumps from his spot, betrayed and pointing to David with both hands. “You’re in on this?!”

Noel squeezes himself deeper into the armrest. “No shit he’s apart of this.”

Heath stops, looking to David (who gives him nothing) then Zane. He claps, stomps, and shouts, “The fuck you just say to me!?” He finds the amusement at how fast all of this blew up on Cody’s face too condescending, and Cody claps his hands to his knees while looking at Heath with a mocking glare.

"He said no shit he's apart of this, dumbass!"

Standing, Heath begins to yell at Cody and Noel. Poor Drew is stuck in the middle of it, as quiet as Scott, Corinna, Amanda, Toddy — everybody that isn’t Zane, Heath, Cody, and Noel. Zane even stretches over Drew to yell in Noel’s face, clapping periodically when his voice gets its highest.

David jumps seeing how far back your eyes roll into your head. He just about thinks he’s kickstarted a seizure — so he goes “HEY!” and shuts everybody up.

“Guys, stop. Look, me and Y/n agreed to this together, okay? So if everybody would just sit down…?” His hands fan down. Heath is wary but he does. Cody, however, can’t help but stick his tongue out at him like a child, squishing his eyes nearly shut. The only thing that keeps Heath seated is you and your piercing eyes.

David holds his hands to present you. “Y-you wanna…?” He stutters.

You step forward but resist looking at anybody. You only look to various points in the room that could classify as ‘staring into space,’ mostly to avoid catching an irritating set of eyes that discourages you.

“So…” you start. David nods. It’s a bit of a push to get you to continue, “everybody on this website knows we hate each other. Okay well not really. We know we hate each other, the fans think this is just a fun little rivalry. If we do this they’re going to go absolutely crazy—“

Corinna raises her hand. You’d say she’s a sweetheart as she’s never been too harsh with you but you can’t shake the feeling that she’s judging you whenever she looks your way. You point and she puts her arm down, crossing them and leaning back against the wall (Toddy by her side). “We don’t even know what this is. So can you like—“

“Yeah, can you guys explain it?” Toddy interrupts.

Corinna scoffs and distances herself a little bit.

Shame to say not everybody is in this room. Only the “OG” group is present. And OG in itself is a tricky thing. You’d say the people present are the most beloved of your two groups, the ones in your vlogs most consistently, and the ones that have been around the longest. It’s even more of a shame to say that Tom isn’t here because the damn Brit is off being British in Britain. Your group is outnumbered. Even though Gabbie isn’t here, the addition of Natalie still puts you at odds.

You sigh, knowing to deal with it later. “The idea is that our two groups battle each other over the course of a month."

“Oh.” Cody pipes. “Yeah, I’d be willing to beat up this guy.” A thumb points over to Heath.

“Oh screw you.”

“No,” you pinch your nose, “not that kind of fight. Fun fights like volleyball. Or dodgeball or hell I don’t know, tennis maybe — shit you’d do on Field Day in elementary school. It’d be great for all of our channels, good for merch, good for sales cause I know that’s all some of you care about.” Noel just has to gasp out loud at the diss you whispered. “TLDR; we host a team-event with goals and prizes and take over Youtube, basically.”

They all hum.

Chloe’s in thought squinting at the ceiling. Emily is in a similar state but comes to her conclusion earlier. “So wait we’re like…the Jake Paulers and Logang…ers, now?”

You blink. “No.” But technically, “Wait, maybe. Never-mind that!”

“Wait wait wait,” Heath holds up a finger. “You said we were going to be living together.” That finger points to David.

"That's like the Team Ten house!" In comes the overlapping chatter.

You smile. “Yes. That’s cause it was David’s idea that we do. So!” You pull an expandable metal pointer from your sleeve (to the surprise of many) and David steps to the side, revealing his television. He glares softly for calling him out but the transition was so quick there’s no chance for retaliation. Natalie (thankfully yet to be caught in the crossfire) starts up the same presentation you showed him. Though you took in the time to add some of his ideas.

“I got in touch with my agent and found two possible places we could all pack up and yes, live in together!”

A shared groan. The boys on the couch begin flailing about like grumpy babies without enough space.

David jumps with the picture that pulls up. He does a double take, one at the screen and the other at you. He’ll never not admit you work your ass off, that’s for sure.

“The first option is the Ella Rose Estate, second is the Houdini Mansion.”

As the soft name may suggest, the Ella Rose is beautiful. It's painted white with a dark grey, almost black rooftop (for contrast) and despite vines and moss eating up most of the front side, the pop of color is what adds to the beauty. Only $1,500 a night although that might change with twenty fucking people, but it has a medium sized pool in the back and a more contemporary to modern aesthetic. Its size will certainly be a hassle getting around in with so many people but maybe that’s a good thing.

As for the Houdini…you flip to the pictures of that (also white on the outside with dark roofing) and the whole room jumps. Cody buries the side of his body deeper into the couch, and Zane looks back to see if his group is seeing what he is.

David jumps as well. Quite the change indeed.

It’s a Victorian-esk mansion on the outside, beautiful and pristine, but the inside (while kept up) is dark with everything made of stainless, shining cherry wood, and decorations which also point toward the Victorian aesthetic.

“David! You tryna put us in a horror movie?” Zane shouts.

“We’re already in one,” you mutter.

Natalie keeps flipping through and everybody is very audible with their chills. The house is beautiful (as Erin and Carly note, lips pressed tight but impressed with the pictures you’ve picked) but everything without the lights is so damn dark.

Beautiful, but dark.

However, it is very spacious. The dining room (depending on how you space the chairs) could hold 10 people on a side. And for the bedrooms you explain, “Houdini Mansion actually used to be an orphanage—“

“Nuh-uh!” Zane jumps and pulls his legs under him. “Don’t even try to tell me that place isn’t haunted!”

You grin. “Actually tourists report—“

“HELL NAH!”

“Yeah no."

“Noooo no no no no!”

People actually have the audacity to start leaving the room!

You drop your hands to your side, speechless frankly. When you were in school and your teachers started boasting about how immature you were being you always thought they were being overdramatic. This is the equivalent of students leaving three minutes before the bell. If they would just sit and listen they’d know where you were going with this. There's a pang in your chest for all the teachers you underestimated.

Because here you are with a bunch of actual children.

David doesn’t pay attention to the escaping flock. He looks at the presentation carefully. It’s on a photo of the entrance room. The composition isn't centered but straight ahead there’s the staircase (one of two he assumes), to the right is the kitchen separated with a glass door, and past the stairs is a horizontal hallway and another room he can see. He never-minds the fear of any extra cost you’ll have to pay in damages, and with a giggle and his tongue poking out of his mouth he goes, “I’m in. I choose this one.”

Somewhere in everybody’s collective mind, a record-scratch can be heard. People look over their shoulders for him to repeat, “I've decided. We’re going.”

Chloe chokes. “You can’t make us go.”

David ‘pouts’ and you do too. It’s not even on cue but the way your heads tilt inward and your arms go limp by your sides is so coincidental it's frightening.

You grimace. “Oh, but I can.”

David clicks his tongue and sighs. “Guess it’ll just be Y/n and me.”

“For a month getaway.”

“I mean — I guess it's fine since we’re the only two that’ll have a share of the money, I dunno—“

“FINE!” Heath steps forward, and so does Zane. You find it strange how Cody and Noel only step forward when they do. They return to their spots on the couch but this time poor Drew has some air to breathe now that he’s decided it’s best to stand up.

“Yes,” Cody seethes, rubbing his eye, “Y/n…continue.”

You nod at Natalie and she goes to the next slide.

“David’s crew will be red, mine will be blue. Which means for a month the only color any of us will be wearing is our team’s.” Enya (Always looking damn good in red) grunts into her first and slaps her chair’s arm. You look solemnly at her but shrug it off knowing full well that girl can pull off blue.

Carly raises her hand. “Okay wait. What don’t you classify as ‘colors?’”

David picks at his lips and mumbles “Black, silver.”

You shrug, “White. Also, you could get away with wearing black the whole time if you dye your hair.” It’s true. She feels at some tuffs between her fingers, getting along with this idea.

“Me and David would come up with challenges and things that can be won from those challenges. David will keep uploading Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and I’ll keep uploading on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. And each day we will post a challenge spliced in with other shenanigans.” You look at him and keep eye contact. “And David and I can figure out what we’ll do on Sunday cause we agreed that we want a steady stream of content so whatever it is will probably be small or just between us like a uh…?”

“Q&A?” Cody suggests.

Bless Cody and his words which break your eye contact with David. “Uh yeah. That’s actually a good idea. We’ve also agreed it’s only fitting that David's his team’s leader and I’m my team’s leader—“

Corinna raises her hand, “What do you have in mind for merch?” but doesn’t wait for you to acknowledge before she lowers it.

“Well I haven’t gotten to—nevermind, we’ll get to that. Typical shirts, those like short-short 70s shorts, leg-warmers, headbands and uh…?”

“Bandanas,” David pipes up. He picks at the corner of his eyes. “Socks, backpacks, water bottles and stuff.”

“And how do we figure out where we’ll be staying?” Chloe asks.

You keep your lips shut.

David’s unsure if he should continue or not. But when his extended groan fails to jolt you out of your stasis, he steps forward and lazily gestures the presentation behind him. Natalie flips through it sporadically to match up with what he’s saying. You’re just shocked they’ve all become so accepting.

“Well Y/n said she’s already planned a photoshoot. So like, of individual teams, teams together, individual members, members together. And like members would be paired based on their stereotype or something?” He looks for assurance and you nod. “So Amanda and Toddy — you two would be paired I guess. Uh…Heath and Cody, Chloe and Carly, Erin and Emily — ha, that’s ironic. Right?” He nudges you. He’s actually concerned at this point. You look so flustered and he’s chewing on his cheek leaning forward to get a look at you. Thankfully you snap out of it before he looks like a creep.

“Uh yeah. Yeah yeah, that sounds right,” you say.

“Okay wait,” Zane purses his lips. “What kind of photoshoot?”

“We didn’t steal your 200th video idea if that’s what you’re asking.”

He sits back with nothing to say.

“Are we allowed to leave?”

You nod. “You can go do whatever you want in your free time.”

David sniffles. “We might leave to do some stuff too.”

You click your tongue and bask in the silence. But then it gets too awkward for your liking so you clap your hands together and open your arms to any more questions (physically and figuratively). But there are none. Matt perks up but deflates immediately, and the same for the others as they find questions but come to their own conclusions.

“So…” you clap, “sound good?”

The image of you and David standing almost as one, as leaders and together for once submits everybody else into something of children looking up to their apprehensive parents. So they act as such. Some cross their arms, others stomp but ultimately say nothing. And while most begin to pout there’s a select few who couldn’t care less, only thinking of the experience they’ll be able to say they had. They seem content: Carly, Erin, Natalie, Drew, Amanda, Scotty, and Toddy.

“Good!”

David puts his hands in his pockets and begins to sway. “Okay you can go now.”

They sluggishly leave the room and that leaves you two alone in semi-silence. Nothing is said but you react appropriately and together to the curses and hisses thrown around in the next room.

“Well…” you bite your lip, “this is going to be fun.”

David holds his hand to you.

“Yup.”

And you shake it.

TAGS

@wefracturedmotivation @blackhood5sos @i-heart-movies @sinfulmango @edalalalalalala @mostlydobrik @latelycrazy​ (Added the people who liked the original post asking to be tagged. Message me if you don’t want to be, or message me if you would).

#David Dobrik x Reader #David Dobrik imagine #David Dobrik imagines #vlogsquad imagine #vlogsquad imagines #2.6k #imagine

[mskinkyafro]

Blurred Lines (Ethan x MC)

A/N:  This is my take on Miami with our man. From Ethan’s perspective and there’s a few references from my previous fics but its not necessary to read those before this. I was originally wanting to post this before the chapter aired but life happened and a week later here it is. I took some dialogue from the chapter and placed it in here but not much. This also uses Ella Mai’s close near the end. I wasn’t originally gonna use a song in this but the story kept shifting but it’s a great song that reminds me of these two. But overall I hope you all enjoy my version of Ch. 10. This fic grew way longer than originally thought but oh well lol.

 Summary: Dr. Ramsey and Dr. Michaels start to crossover into new territory during the Miami conference.

All Rights to PB and Ella Mai for her song “Close”

Sidenote: Song Lyrics are italicized

Word Count: 3,996 words.

Tagged: @sharrybh20 @ifyouseekheart @perriewinklenerdie @radlovedreamer @siegrrun @flyawayboo @gabbisaur

Sorry if I forgot anyone else, but iIf anyone else wants to be tagged just let me know!

Ethan Ramsey stood in a secluded corner of the atrium as he watched the interns scrambled to the leaderboards. He’d learn his lesson over the last few weeks of attempting to post the rankings in their sights. The amount of times he was almost ran over or harassed by the young doctors was wearing down his already thin patience. This time he decided to post it earlier to avoid the savages.

Usually he would carry on with his patients after each week’s posting or spend some time checking on his mentor and looking over his case, but on this occasion he couldn’t help but stay just to catch a glimpse of Katrina when she looks at the ranks. Out of the sea of interns he could make out a young doctor flinging her arms around Katrina in excitement and hear brief exclaims of congratulations. He notices the young African-American woman taken aback by the news but quickly a fierce look of pride washes over her as she talks amongst the few lingering colleagues who wish to extend kind pleasantries.

He smiles to himself as he watches Katrina’s grin. Despite growing closer the last few weeks Ethan was unsure how he felt about Dr. Michaels. It was clear to himself he trusted, admired, and respected her even though more times than others she’s a pain in his ass. And on the other hand, residing deep inside was his raw attraction for the young resident. He catches himself staring at her when she’s unaware or if talking to her how his eyes tend drift to her round, pouty lips. Ever since his daydream about Dr. Michaels, to their conversation in his home, and the last weeks of closely working together on his secret case he’s noticed there’s a difference.

Ethan would never willingly admit to himself that he may have became enamored with the young doctor.  No, he keeps those dangerous thoughts regarding Katrina in the forgotten depths of his mind. He has far to many other important things to focus on. He soon notices that he’s no longer alone in his little corner. A familiar perfumed scent hits his nose and without turning he addresses the figure.

“Chief Emery, what can I do for you?”

“Now Ethan, must you always be so formal. ”

Ethan rolls his eyes and turns to face Chief Emery. He can tell by the way she said his name she wanted something. Before, he always folded but as of late  her attempts of being his emotional puppeteer has had no effects.

“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood Harper nor do I have the time so let’s keep this short, yes?”

She’s momentarily taken aback but brushes off her initial surprise.

“Yes, you definitely seemed...” Her eyes move to land on Katrina.

“...preoccupied at the moment.

Ethan follows her gaze and his eyebrows furrowed as he sees where it lands, annoyed at the subtle insinuations.

“Ahem, what exactly did you need?”

She turns back to look at Ethan and hands him papers and continues to speak as he looks over what she’s handed him.

“This actually. You’re going to Florida. Well, Miami specifically and accompanied by Dr. Michaels to a medical conference. You both will be surrounded by other accomplished doctors from the best hospitals all over the country, so make sure to mingle and represent Edenbrook well.”

She turns to walk away from him but he cuts her path off.

“Wait, why must I go and bring along an intern for that matter. Isn’t the schmoozing apart of your job description?”

“Actual my job description is to assign who I want to schmooze, if not myself. Second, as a way to mix things up in the competition I decided to throw in an exclusive reward. Thus, attending a prestigious medical conference with the accomplished Dr. Ethan Ramsey.”

“You enjoy torturing me, don’t you Harper?”

“No, no of course not.”

Ethan takes a step back as he realizes Harper attempting to cup his cheek. Her hand falls back to her side.

“But at least your company is someone you’ve taken a ...liking too, from my understanding.” her tone was polite but Ethan noticed a small hint of hidden meaning in between her words and an unfamiliar glint in her eyes.

“Now Harper, I-”

Ethan was interrupted by the buzzing of Harper’s pager.

“Duty calls. Dr. Ramsey, this is final.”

She walks away without another word down the west corridor. Ethan shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. Unable to argue anymore he makes his way to the center of the atrium towards Dr. Michaels who’s still surrounded by her roommates and a few straggling interns.

“Rookie. I see you saw the news.”

He sees her turn toward him as a hush fell amongst the other young doctors as he finds himself standing a few spaces of chest to chest with Dr. Michaels.

“Yes I did Dr. Ramsey. Are you here to congratulate me?”

“For not killing your patients? No.”

He noticed a flicker of sadness in her eyes and the way her smile fell. He mentally kicks himself.

“However…”

Katrina eyes grow more hopeful.

“...you’ve yet to let me down, Rookie.”  he let his eyes soften as he finished speaking. Ethan felt his heart skip a beat as Katrina’s annoying  yet radiant smile grew wide.

“And I don’t plan to anytime soon, sir.”

“Good.”

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a few seconds before a cough from others interrupted the moment.

“Ahem, anyway Rookie. Pack your bags tonight. You’re accompanying me to Florida this weekend for a conference as reward for ranking first this week.”

“What?! Really?!” she said in disbelief.

Ethan ignores the many audible gasps, groans of disappointment, and bitter mumbles.

“I’m not repeating myself, Rookie. Send me your address so I can pick you up, our flight leaves at 7:00 am tomorrow morning.”

And with that Ethan walked away and head towards his office.

Time seemed to fly for the next morning arrived and Ethan found himself immensely irritated. He rubs his face in exhaustion and frustration. He hopes that their flight would end soon because he was unsure how much longer he could take before he might lose it. First, the flight was delayed by two hours, then he realized the tickets were economy not first class, so himself and Dr. Michaels were huddled with the other passengers like cattle, and thirdly a infant seems to have been crying non-stop since the departure.

He knows how little of an impatient man he is so at the moment all he could do was suffer in his seat and try not to succumb to his building temper as his companion managed to sleep during the entire trainwreck of a flight. As he was steaming in his seat he felt a pressure land on his shoulder. He turned and looking down on his right shoulder he saw a messy clump of afro hair and soft snoring from Katrina. Seeing Dr. Michaels sleep so soundlessly and how peaceful her features were made most of his bitterness melt at the sight. He didn’t know why but just one look at her and he felt calm. Just for a minute he thought maybe this flight isn’t all bad.

Soon enough the overhead speakers came alive to alert the passengers that in a few minutes they will arrive at their destination soon.  The sound of the seat belt sign chiming cause Katrina stir from her slumber and she slowly open her eyes as she adjusted to her surrounding. Her eyes land on Ethan and she immediately bolts upright, bumping her elbow in her neighbor who shoots Katrina a nasty glare.

“Sorry sir.”

The man beside her let out a grunt and continued to read his newspaper. Concern at the lack of warmth from his shoulder and for the way Katrina woke up he gently laid his hand on her shoulder.

“Everything okay Rookie?”

“Oh, umm yes Dr. Ramsey. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was-”

“Relax Dr. Michaels. I’ve had worse things happen to me on economy flight. Being your pillow is not one of them.”

She smirks towards him.

“Is that so? So you’re saying I can specifically request you as my pillow?”

“No.”

“Hmm. I don’t believe you.”

“Do I look like the type to lie.”

“Of course not sir but I feel like you’ll give in.”

“And what makes you think that I’ll cater to your wishes, Dr. Michaels?”

She lifts a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Ethan as a smirk that rivals the cheshire cat graced her face.

“I can be very persuasive.” Ethan feels goosebumps form as he feels the ghostly trace of her fingertips brush his hand reaching to the seat pocket in front of her. In his head he’s trying to decipher if that was a coincidence or something orchestrated by the young doctor.

Reeling from the simplest of touch,  Ethan stayed quiet for the moment before he readied himself with a retort but interrupted by the woman beside him.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

He couldn’t help but smile at her and shake his head.

“I agree that your growing ego is unbecoming, Rookie.”

She giggles at him and then  turns to look out the window hoping to not disturb the man beside her while Ethan kept his gaze fixed on her. Trying to process how he’ll survive this weekend.

A hour passes after landing in Miami and Ethan and Katrina arrive at the hotel and make their way to the front desk.

“Yes how may I help you?”

“We have a reservation for two double rooms under Ramsey.”

“Alrighty let’s take a look.”

The woman behind the desk types on her keyboard before her face scrunches up.

“I’m sorry sir, but it seems there was a mix up and all the double rooms are booked for the weekend.”

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration and lets out a gruff sigh a Katrina tries to reason with the concierge.

“I’m sorry but that’s unacceptable. What other rooms are available?”

“Well ma’am, once more I’m terribly sorry for the mix up. We have one room available, the honeymoon suite, which we’re willing to give to you and your husband for free as condolences for the booking conflict.”

Ethan looked up from his previous position and  noticed the faint blush that graced Dr. Michaels face at the woman’s assumption. He saw Katrina about to correct the employee but his mouth spoke without warning.

“We’ll accept it, Thank you.” he nods curtly as he collects the key cards and heads to the elevator, leaving behind a stunned Katrina.

She manages to catch up to his long strides as he enters the elevator and presses the bottom to the penthouse level. The door closes and there’s a small silence between the two. Ethan can tell she’s dying to question him so he speaks first.

“You’re allowed to talk, rookie.”

“Umm are you sure you’re comfortable with sharing a room, Dr. Ramsey?”

“They are no other rooms and we’re probably unable to get double rooms at any other hotel in the ten mile radius, I gathered we might as well enjoy an unexpected upgrade even if it’s due to moronic behavior.”

The elevator halts and the doors open and Ethan steps out and strides down the long hallway followed by Katrina and arriving in front of the last door of the corridor.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He opens the door and holds it open for her to enter.

“Are you uncomfortable sharing close quarters?”

Katrina enters and was about to respond but was distracted by the glamour of the suite. He follows behind her and watches as her eyes lit up with astonishment at the room. Ethan’s relieved that she’s preoccupied by their room to question him any further. His rational, safe-playing side is chastising him for accepting this arrangement but his other side took the lead at that moment. He didn't have a true reason for saying yes other than wanting another occasion to be close to Dr. Michaels

“Okay, one. This room is gorgeous. I mean, this view of the beach is breathtaking! Two, I may be distracted currently but that doesn’t mean I didn’t noticed that you answered my question with a question.”

Katrina done inspecting the suite moves to gently set her suitcase down as Ethan stands a few feet beside her placing his own down.

“If I didn’t know any better rookie, I’d say you’re scared to be alone with me.”

Ethan can feel Katrina’s hot gaze look him up and down and hear her sly grin as she spoke.

“Oh, I’m not the one that should be afraid.”

He feels a flush grow in his neck at her words.

“And I noticed you didn’t correct the concierge when she assumed we were husband and wife.”

“People are always going to assume. Why waste my breath to change what they others think?”

He hopes she doesn’t see through his thin excuse.

“Wise words Dr. Ramsey. So what’s on the agenda for the rest of the day?” she smiles as sits on the edge of the king size bed.”

Ethan pulls out a folder filled with documents from his bag and sits at on the loveseat in the room and places it on the coffee table in front of him.

“The conference doesn’t start til tomorrow so for the rest of the day-

“I can soak up some Miami sun!”  Katrina interrupts.

“Yes, I suppose so while I stay in to look over some files.

“Dr. Ramsey you’re going to work when…” Katrina hops off the bed and saunters to the glass door of the balcony and gestures to the scenic view of the beach below them.

“...this is out our window.”

He moves to take out his glasses from his pocket and places over his eyes and doesn’t bother glancing out the balcony.

“My job never ceases, Katrina.”

Ethan begins to read the documents when the papers are pushed away from. He looks up at Katrina with an annoyed expression on his face.

“You work so hard as it is back home. You need to relax, Dr. Ramsey. Come along with me. I promise I’m loads of fun.” She said as she threw him a wink.

Ethan reaches to center his work in front of him once more.

“Tempting, but I have to decline.”

“Suit yourself.”

Katrina turns away from him to dig into her suitcase and grabs a few items before she heads to the bathroom

Ethan soon becomes engross for a few minutes and doesn’t tear his attention away even as the door of the bathroom opens and Katrina’s light footsteps approach.

“So is their a curfew I should be aware of?”

“Well-”  Ethan’s words die at his lips as he looks away from his work and takes in the sight before him. Katrina stands in front of him wearing a scandalous yellow triangle bikini that makes her coffee-hue skin glisten and shows off curvy figure. The revealing fabric hugged in all the right places, her thick hips, thighs, and shows off her double D sized breasts. He realizes he’s been staring for too long and finally speaks, his voice slightly cracked.

“Ahem, urm...you’re not confined to a time frame but keep in mind we have a long and early day ahead of us so I advise not too late.”

“Gotcha.” she turns to a nearby chair and slips on her see-through yellow wrap skirt. She walks over to the body length mirror to check herself out and fluffs out her frizzy fro and heads to exit the room. She pauses and calls out to him over her shoulder

“You sure don’t want to tag along, Dr. Ramsey?” she asks one more time. Ethan can tell her tone is innocent enough but in her hazel eyes he sees hope and a tiny bit of mischief in. He tries to focus on her face and not her perfectly round ass that’s barely covered in the cloth she calls a swimsuit.

“Well, we are in Miami. I suppose these documents can wait” he flashes a rare smile.

“That’s more like it sir!”

“Please Katrina, Ethan outside of work?

“Sorry Ethan.”

He smiles small and heads to his bag then the bathroom  to change. He steps out in just his swim trunks and slips on some sandals. He notices Katrina’s eyes roam his bare chest before landing back to his eyes. He smirks at her and then walks to open the door to start their afternoon.

They spent the rest of the day and early evening basking the Miami sun. Walking on the shore, smiling and laughing discussing their lives before Edenbrook. Soon night fell and  they found themselves back at the hotel outside bar nursing several scotches on rocks, sitting elbow length from another.

“So that’s really all there is to know about me. I switched from the west coast to the east coast. I haven’t visited in a while but I have an older brother and niece who live in LA. It’s difficult to visit sometimes because he’s a busy detective and my niece Chelsea is heavily involve in school especially now she’s entering her senior year.”

Katrina says as she sips from her drink.

“Do you miss it?” He asks.

“Sometimes. I miss craziness of LA or just driving to the beach and surfing in the hot summer days. But being here at Edenbrook, I have a new love, helping my patients.”

Ethan couldn’t help but stare as she said this. It was rare to find another doctor who truly wanted make a difference. More and more he got to know Katrina he couldn’t help but fall more.

He nods and finishes his drink. As he sets his glass down music begins to play and the other people outside begin to grab their partners and dance. He sees Katrina’s face light up in recognition and downs the rest of her drink and excitedly hops of her stool and fumbles slightly. From the alcohol or just the sudden movement, Ethan was unsure but had inkling it was both.

“I love this song! Ethan, dance with me.”

He looks around nervously. Looking for any doctors that could be in range.

“I don’t think so. I’m not one for dancing.”

A  pouty look forms on Katrina’s face and in that moment Ethan just wanted to kiss her then and there.

“Please, for me.” She reaches to pull him off his seat.

He decide to throw caution in the wind and followed Katrina to the makeshift dance floor.

They find themselves in the center surrounded by other couples dancing to the sensual music. Katrina wraps her arms around his neck and presses herself closely to Ethan’s body. He places his hands on her hips and his eyes bore to hers as the sway to the music. He feels intoxicated by her citrus perfume.

I don't even really care who knows it

Just keep me there, keep me in the moment

Seen a lot of things, but I never seen my spirit glowin'

The way you do me got me outta body

Cause you the only out of everybody

Who gon' go out of the way to show me all the ways

Come control the flame

I just wanna stay right here with you

Katrina then turns so her ass is pressed against Ethan’s groin and grabs his arms so that they wrap around her as they continue to sway to the music. Ethan groans quietly to himself and tries hard not to become too excited. Being so close to her felt so good  but he can’t help but question this. He knows he’s a little tipsy and he’s sure she is after the amount of rounds they had.

“Katrina…”

“Kat. Call me Kat.”

Ethan moves on of his hands to trail up her arm to her neck and push some of her fro out the way and his hot breath lingers on her neck as he whispers in her ear

“What are you doing to me.”

Let the water flow

Just let it fall out from my face

Cause I never thought I'd ever hear me say

I just can't breathe without my baby

Ooh, you my baby

Ethan can feel her shiver at his words and she turns back around and place her hands over his exposed chest. Her fingers tracing his skin. She stands on her tip toes and leans up as her hands bring his face closer to hers and whispers

“Only whatever it is you do to me.”

So come and kiss up on me

As we dance close

Come and kiss up on me slow

Ethan tightens his hold on Kat and stops their movements all the while others around them keep dancing.

“Kat.” His hand tangles in her hair and his eyes roam her face and he sees desire and longing.

“Ethan.”

Ethan closes his eyes as he feels her plump lips graze over his. He moves his mouth to respond briefly as he savors the moment but the fading sound of the music sobers him up and reminds him on where he is.

He reluctantly untangles himself from Katrina and holds her hands.

“Kat...Katrina. We can’t do this.”

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with confusion.

“Why? Do you not feel…”

“No of course not. I want this so bad,  but not enough to jeopardize your career and reputation. ”

“No one has to know. It’ll be our secret.”

“We’d know. Plus I can’t push you to be the best doctor you can be if I…”

He pauses and lets go of her hands and adds space between themselves.

“If you…”

He shakes his head at her.

“Let’s call it a night. We’re both tipsy and have an early morning.”

He stalks toward their room feeling he disappointed gaze on him. They make it back to their suite and both quickly  change into night clothes, Ethan in his pajama pants and no shirt and Katrina pops out of the bathroom in an over-sized T-shirt that covers her torso but shows off her legs and her hair wrapped in her silk bonnet. Even in the simplest clothing he finds her so beautiful and he’s kicking himself for cutting off what could’ve happen but he reminds himself its for the best.  He speaks first.

“I can take the couch and you can have the bed, Rookie.”

“Ethan, we’re both adults we can share a bed. I promise no funny business.”

“Rookie…”

Katrina cuts him off

“No. Right now I’m Kat and your Ethan. No Rookie, no Dr. anything. We have all day tomorrow for that. Let’s give ourselves this moment right now before going back to reality. Please, Ethan.”

He sighs and gets inside the left side of the bed and gestures for Katrina to get in as well. She turns off the lights and gets in on the right side. They lay down facing each other, eye to eye. Their breathing  grows soft and faint. Katrina closes her eyes first and flips so her back faces Ethan.

“Good night, Ethan.” She whispers.

He’s still facing her and longs to hold her but ultimately shuts his eyes.

“Goodnight Kat.”

It’s quiet for a few minutes when he feels rustling in the bed and warmth closer to him. He opens his eyes and notices Kat moved  in her sleep. He would scoot over more but he’d be in the edge of the bed and he didn’t want to risk waking her up to move her over so he just pressed closer toward her and wrapped his arm around her waist and lay his face near the crook of her neck. He knew he was well over the boundaries he attempting to draw but Ethan decided give not only himself but both of them this moment.

#choices fanfiction #choices stories you play #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC #dr ethan ramsey #open heart choices

[themoonandotherslikeit]

What the Rain Can’t Wash Away- Chapter 1

*FINAL PIECE IN THE LOOK IN HER EYES TRILOGY*

Sixteen years after Lucifer rose, and Dean lost his wife he finds himself with a teenager, a Nephilim, an angel, and his brother living out a Full House rerun with some seriously dark undertones. How will he be able to raise his daughter, fight monsters, and deal with the loss of the love of his life? Sometimes moving on is the hardest part, but with the Winchester’s there’s always something harder around the corner. Isn’t there?

Chapter One, The Little Town Full of Little People

Dean 

The air smelled like popcorn, corn dogs, and hay. Little kids scurried along the streets of downtown Lebanon wearing their Halloween costumes, squealing. Claire wore a witch hat, despite her insistence of not wanting to dress up. That was the thing about falling in love, it makes you do crazy things. I should know, Nel had me, Sam, and Cas dressed up as the Ghost Busters. 

  “I feel ridiculous,” I complained as Nel snapped me into my back pack. 

  “Well I worked hard on these costumes, so get over it.”

  “And what are you?”

  She rolled her eyes, pointing to her pale face paint. “Jackie and I are obviously ghosts?”

  Of course. What was I thinking?

“Look What Ellie got me!” Jack exclaimed, showing us the cotton candy in his hand. “It is delicious.”

 “I’ll say.” I grinned, plucking a piece of the pink fluff and sticking it in my mouth. 

 “She has very good taste,” Jack said with a nod.

 “Come here, Jackie!” Nel said, waiving him over to one of the games. It was pumpkin painting. “Want to do one?”

 “Oh yes!” He said with a gleam in his eye. The three kids huddled around the pumpkins. Nel and Jack painted while Claire instructed Jack on creepy paint ideas. 

 Cas, Sam, and I hung back. “She had a dream,” I said low to them.

 “What do you mean?”

 “It’s like we had the same dream last night. Like she was tapped into my head,” I glanced to Sam. 

 “That’s...oh,” Sam said with a frown. “You think its a psychic thing?”

 “Don’t you?”

 Cas raised an eyebrow. “They do not mention this in the parenting books.” 

 “We already have one super powered kid burning off his soul.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “And another that’s a reckless hunter,” I sighed. “Pretty sure they don’t cover any of this.”

 “Maybe she could be helpful with our current predicament,” Castiel offered, eyeing me.

 “No way. I don’t want her in my head, Cas. It’s a fucking mess in there.” 

 “I mean, Cas has a point. You saw how powerful I was.” 

 “This isn’t a conversation we are having,” I huffed. “You also saw what happened. You had to juice up to do all of that and we sure as shit aren’t doing that to my daughter. She deserves to be normal.” I watched her painting on the pumpkin. She threw her head back and laughed at something that Jack said. They looked happy. Fuck, she deserved to be happy.

 “You brought it up, man.”

 “Because I am worried, not because I want to use her as a weapon. We’ve been watching her her whole life... and yours didn’t show up until you were twenty three. Why is hers happening now?”

 “She’s a wild card, Dean. We’ve always known that she ingested more than I ever did,” Sam said carefully. “We don’t know what she’s capable of. Maybe its coming out from all the stress.” 

 I shook my head. “So it’s my fault.” 

 “I didn’t say that.” 

 “You didn’t have to.” 

 Nel turned to me, catching me watching. She waved at me. 

 I winked back at her. My daughter, the light of my fucking life. All I wanted was for her to have a normal life. I worked my ass off for that, but I always knew in the back of my head that she wouldn’t be able to be normal. How could she after everything we’ve been through? After the name she was given. Winchester. It was like the kiss of death. 

 She whispered something in Claire’s ear, and she turned to look at me. I shrugged. I wasn’t gonna apologize for watching her. Ever since she was a baby I couldn’t look at her enough. She looked like Ava in the way that she moved, and laughed, in her nose, and her eyes in the right light. She was everything. Even though I knew I’d have to say goodbye I wasn’t ready. How could I ever be?

  “We should just watch her. Ya know?” I said carefully. “And when I go under, you two need to watch her too. We can’t let these kids go dark side. No matter what.” I turned away. 

 “Dean where are you going?”

 “Getting a beer, Sammy. Don’t worry. I promised her a nice day. I don’t break promises to my kid if I can avoid it.” 

 I walked away. My feet crunching leaves as I walked down Main Street to the vender selling beer off the tap. 

 “Hey! Dean!” 

 I turned to find Cami, the waitress from The Little Pancake, jogging to me. 

 “Hey.” I forced a smile, taking my beer. “You, uh, want a drink?”

 “Sure.” She smiled widely, pushing her red hair behind her ear. I’d never seen it down before, it had a nice wave to it. 

 I nodded to the bartender. “We will take another of the same thing,” I said, sitting some cash down. The man handed us a another cup and I offered it to her. 

 “Thank you so much,” she said, her cheeks pink. “You here with Eleanor?”

 “Yeah,” I said with a laugh. “Wouldn’t dress like this on my own.” I gestured to the costume.

 “She’s spirited.” Cami laughed.

 “That’s an understatement.” 

 “What about you?”

 “Oh, I’m here alone,” she said nervously. Her cheeks were painted to look like a cats face. 

 I smiled a bit. “So no one is forcing you into face paint?”

 “Oh! This?” Her cheeks grew even more red. “No, I just saw one of the kids that always comes into the diner... and she was doing the paint and offered. Does it look terrible?”

 “Nah,” I said with a shrug. “It’s cute. Nel used to paint my face, too.” 

 Cami smiled to herself and sipped her beer. “She’s a special girl. You two seem very close.” 

 “We are,” I agreed, taking a swig of my own beer. “Always have been.” 

 “Most dads that I see come in with their daughters seem so awkward. They’re both on their phones, but you two never are. It’s nice.” 

 I smiled at her, noticing the sun catching a gold fleck in her brown eyes. “Didn’t know you paid that close of attention.”

 “Of course I do,” she said gently. 

 “Hey Dad, I,” Nel said, jogging up holding her pumpkin. “Oh, hi Cami.” 

 I turned to my daughter to catch her grinning from ear to ear. I internally sighed, realizing what this must look like. “It was nice talking to you, Cami,” I said forcing a smile.

 “You too, Dean,” she responded quietly, with a small smile. “Thanks for the beer.”

 “Anytime,” I said with a shrug. I walked to Nel and threw my arm over her shoulder. “Let’s see the pumpkin.” 

 She showed it to me, it was black and white striped with green paint dripping down it. “Beetlejuice.” I grinned. “That’s my girl.” 

 She leaned into me. “Sorry to interrupt you two.”

 “You didn’t. She was just saying hi. We were actually talking about you.” I glanced at her. 

 “We need to practice talking to girls, Dad.” She laughed.

 “Nah, you’re the only girl I need to talk to,” I said, placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

 “Why do you do that?” She asked me, stopping us. 

 “Do what?” 

 “Refuse to be happy?” 

 “I’m not refusing, kid. All things considered, I am happy. I don’t need to be in a relationship to be full.” I pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’ve had my great love. Don’t really need another one.” Plus, that’s just one more person to disappoint. One more person to miss me when I’m in the coffin. 

 “You really think there’s only one person out there? You don’t think we get more than one chance.” 

 I smiled down at her. “For you, sweetheart, you will get a million chances. You’re good. For me? Nah. It was your mom. Period, end of story, roll credits. I’m okay with that. You don’t need to worry about me,” I said, beginning to walk again. Ending the conversation. How could I explain to her that I never wanted any of this? I never let myself want the apple pie life. The marriage, the kid, the home. With Ava I just had a taste, more than I ever deserved. I saw her in that bar and everything changed. Then I saw my daughter look up at me with big tired eyes, and fuck everything changed again, but no matter what I was still me. I was Dean Winchester, and shit just didn’t work out for me. Even under the setting sun, and growing full moon, the smell of fire, and the laughter of kids, I knew that I wasn’t meant to stick around in this world. Otherwise, why was death always knockin on my door? No matter what I did, we would always end up here. We would always end up having to say goodbye. 

  Ella 

Dad’s arm felt heavy around my shoulders. He was smiling, but there was something else behind it. There was an unbelievable sadness within him. I wrapped one arm around him in a hug and let go. “I’m gonna go see if Jack wants to ride the Ferris wheel now that it’s starting to get dark,” I offered weakly. 

 “Sounds good.” 

 I walked to Jack and Claire. “You guys want to go for a ride?” I asked, gesturing to the Ferris wheel. 

 Jack gulped audibly. “Really? Is it safe?”

 “Nope.” Claire grinned.

 “Babe stop. Yeah, Jackie. It’s perfectly safe.” I offered him my hand, sitting my pumpkin down next to Cas, who was sitting on a bench next to Sam. “Watch our stuff?”

 “Sure.” Cas shrugged. 

 Jack took my hand nervously, and Claire rolled her eyes, taking my other spare hand. I lead us to the Ferris wheel. I gave the carnie our tickets and the three of us squeezed into the seat. 

 “Not very romantic,” Claire complained. 

 “Shh.” I leaned in and kissed her. “Every moment I’m with you is romantic, no matter what,” I promised. 

 Jack gasped when we started to move upwards he gripped my hand tightly and I smiled widely at him. “Hey, it’s good,” I promised him.

 “Yes...” He said carefully, starting to relax. “I think it is.” 

 “I needed to talk to you guys in private,” I said, looking at Dad below as other people started to get onto the Ferris wheel.

 “What’s going on?” Claire asked, eyeing me.

 “I had a dream last night. It was really vivid,” I said carefully. “I think I saw my moms death.”

 “How could you have seen that, El?”

 I shrugged, shaking my head. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it isn’t the first weird dream I’ve had lately,” I admitted.

 “Like what?” Jack leaned in to the conversation. 

 “When you were sick... Jack I saw you die.” I sniffled, wiping a tear before it could roll down my cheek. “I don’t know... I didn’t think much about it. It was my worst nightmare, but then it happened just like I saw it...” I shook my head. “I’m getting really freaked out here. When I mentioned the dream to Dad he got all stiff. I think he knows more than what he’s saying.”

  “Why don’t you ask him?” Jack asked quietly.

 “I think he will lie to me, Jackie. He’s been doing that a lot lately. Apparently he’s been doing it my whole life.” 

 Claire laced her fingers with mine. “What does your gut say?”

 I laughed humorlessly. “Well, maybe I’m psychic. I don’t know it sounds ridiculous, right? But what if... what if it’s true? What if I am one of the things my Dad hunts?”

 “He would never hurt you, Ella. You’ve gotta know that,” Claire said insistently. 

 “I.. I do.. I mean I think I do,” I sighed as we crept up higher. “But what if there’s something else.” I met her eyes and then turned to Jack. “What if I have powers... what if I could help him? Don’t I have to try?”

 “Hey, we don’t even know what this is. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Claire said, alarmed.

 “I don’t exactly know who to ask about this, Claire. My Dad? I can’t... He won’t like it.” 

 “What about Sam or Cas?” Jack offered. “Sam is very understanding about things.” 

 “No... he will tell Dad. He has to, right?”

 “What about Rowena?” Claire offered. “I don’t like you talking to witches... but she would probably know something about all of this.” 

 “I think I’ll call her when we get back,” I said, looking down at my Dad. He looked like a spec below. What should I do? I thought, frustrated before he glanced up at me. Almost like he heard me. I swallowed hard. Impossible. “If there’s something to this... maybe I can find the answer for Dad. Maybe I can help him.”

 “Maybe I could,” Jack offered. “I could over power Michael.” 

 “No.” I said, squeezing his hand. “Jackie I won’t let you do that. You won’t burn away any more of you soul. Okay? You have to promise me.”

 He sighed. He looked as helpless as I felt. “Okay.”

 “You can’t tell him what we are doing, Jackie,” I said insistently. “He won’t let us figure it out. It has to be a secret. That’s how you can help. Help me by keeping quiet.” 

 Jack searched my face. He hated lying. I knew he did, but he nodded. “Yes. Okay I will do it.” 

 I let go of Claires hand and hugged him tightly. “Thanks little brother.”

 “You are welcome.” 

 I released him and let Claire put her arm around me. “I’m sorry I ruined your first Ferris wheel ride.”

 “No,” Jack said shaking his head. “I like spending time with you. I don’t care what we do.” 

 “Look at that,” I said, pointing out. “It’s the whole town. Its starting to light up.”

 “They all look so small,” he said quietly. 

 “That’s because they are small, Jack,” Claire said. “There are so much bigger things, places, people than in this small little town, bigger things than that bunker.” 

 “Hey,” I whispered, taking her cheek in my hand. “You okay?”

 “No,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to mine. “I wanted you to have fun today, but you’re so worried. You’re always so worried.” 

 “It’s basically my M-O.” 

 “I don’t like it.” 

 “I’ll stop worrying when there’s nothing to worry about.” I winked. “Which may mean you need to stop hunting.” I laced my fingers with her hand that wasn’t around me. “Because it isn’t just Dad that I worry about, ya know.”

 “I feel like I’m intruding,” Jack said awkwardly.

 Laughter bubbled up inside of me, and I busted up. “God we have such a weird family.”

 Claire grinned before busting up too. “That’s a fucking understatement.” 

 “Okay, no more drama,” I agreed. “Let’s just have fun.”

 Claire’s face relaxed and she nodded, giving me a kiss. 

 We got off the Ferris wheel. My three dads met us with popcorn and candy apples. They looked like huge dorks in their costumes, I loved it. Growing up as a Winchester was probably not a normal childhood, but it was the one I had. We all hooked arms and went to find a place to sit in the grass. I leaned against a large tree, and bit into my apple, watching my family. Cas stared intently at his apple, not sure why he got one, as Dad tried to explain to him why it was delicious even though it was fruit. Claire brought out a cigarette to light before Sam grabbed it from her. “No way,” he said, sternly.

 I grinned. Claire may think that this is a small town life, with small people, but she was just too zoomed out. When you get close it was so much more. The bunker wasn’t just a place, it was home. It was the place that I learned to count. The first place I met Claire, our first Christmas with Jack, and the place where Grandma came back to us. 

 I grew up in that bunker, in this town. It may be unconventional, but it belongs to me. It’s my life and I wouldn’t trade it for anything. Looking at my family laughing, in front of a darkening sky, I knew I wouldn’t trade them for anything. We would stay together, the six of us, no matter what I took. Dad looked at me and smiled. We will save you, Daddy. I promise. Even if it takes the last breath in my body, I will not let you rot in that coffin.

 His eyes widened for a moment, just long enough for me to question if I was really seeing it, but he quickly adjusted, his face relaxing. He gave me a thumbs up. 

 “Do you think Clementine would like candy apples?” Jack asked us. 

 I grinned widely. “You can’t give her stuff that isn’t cat food, Jackie. It’ll make her sick.” 

 He looked down, sadly. “But it’s so delicious. She deserves to have something that is this good.” 

 I walked to him, pulling him into a hug. “You can let her lick your fingers when you get home. Then she can try it without getting sick.”

 “You’re so smart, Ellie!” He said, brightening up immediately. 

 “She sure is.” Dad grinned. 

 We looked up to the dark night sky as fireworks began to explode over our heads. I scooted close to Dad and leaned my head on his shoulder like I’d done every year since I was a little girl, and we watched the fireworks explode. For once since the night Lucifer was killed, things seemed peaceful, like maybe everything would work out. 

  Maybe. 

—————

Chapter Two, I See it in Your Eyes

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History Repeats Itself Chapter Nine // Liam Dunbar x OC

Masterlist

“Garret? They think Garrets the assassin?” Grace shushed her friend, looking around as more people filled the bleachers around them. “Man, I knew there was something off about that guy. Wait, does that mean Violet is too?”

Looking around, Graces eyes landed over to the girl as she took a seat next to Mason. She still couldn’t quite process the fact that these two could be potential assassins. Sure, she had felt something off about Garret but this realization was something she had not been expecting. “Honestly, I’m not sure, it would make sense though. I mean they showed up the same time, they’re basically connected at the hip.”

“On the plus side, Liam looks like he’s doing ok out there. I mean he hasn’t shifted and killed anyone yet so that has to be a good sign, right?” Ella said hopeful. The entire game had the girls on edge. They continued to scan the field, keeping their eyes on their friends and the possible assassin. It was already nearing the half way point and Garret hadn’t tried anything by going after Scott, Kira or even Liam. Since they didn’t know the full list yet, they couldn’t rule out that he wasn’t on the deadpool. Grace had also kept an extra eye on Liam, wincing each time he got hit by a Devenford player. Each time, Scott was near him, more than likely trying to calm him down.

“I still wish he had listened to Scott and sat this one out. I just want this game to be done with.” Grace muttered, her eyes trained on the field.

It had happened so suddenly, an audible gasp going through the crowd that had Grace on her feet. She watched as Liam flew in the air, taking the hit hard from Brett as they both crashed to the ground. What had her on high alert though was Garret near the both.

Grace rushed down the stairs, moving to the Beacon Hills side as they watched Brett get taken off the field. “Is Liam ok?”

“He’s standing so that’s a good sign.” Kira had said, watching as the ref called time for the end of the first half. The team headed towards the sidelines, Scott and Stiles getting to them first. “Hey is Liam ok?” Kira had asked as Scott pulled his helmet off.

“Yeah but we think he might be Garrets target. He missed though on that hit.”

They turned as Liam jogged over, his helmet already off and under his arm.“I talked to coach. I’m out for the rest of the game.”

“What are we going to do?” Kira asked, looking to Scott who let out a breath, wiping the sweat from his face.

“I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right.” They heard a commotion behind them, Ella hurrying down the bleachers and rushing over, phone clutched in her hand.

“Guys, Lydia just texted me. Meredith showed up at the station and somehow helped Lydia figure out the key to the next part of the list.” Ella rushed out, quickly scrolling through her phone as they all huddled around her.

“Am I on it?” Liam voiced, concern hanging on ever word as Ella quickly shook her head. She moved her phone, giving all of them a look at the photo attached to the text message.

“No…but someone else is. Recognize any name?”

Grace scanned the names, her eyes stopping on one that instantly popped out.

“Brett Talbot.” Scott tensed, immediately turning and running in the direction of the locker room, ignoring Finstocks yells. Stiles was hot on his heels trying to keep up with him, Kira and Liam doing the same, telling the others to hang back and call the sheriff.

As Ella was busy dialing, Grace took that moment to scan the crowd, noting not only Violet was missing but Garret as well. Taking that moment to slip away, she hurried from the field, her eyes starting to scan the parking lot. Her hand instinctively went for the knife she kept by her side, cursing when she forgot it was not there. Moving through the dark lot, she came upon Garrets truck, still parked with no one around.

Pulling her phone out, she made to dial her uncle, but a sharp pain in the back of her head stopped her. Her vison blurred before turning to black as she collapsed on the ground unconscious.

Garret gripped the lacrosse stick in his hands, his head perking up when he heard the sirens. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get Violet out right not. But, looking down at the unconscious girl, a plan started forming. One that involved her and a certain beta.

Liam wondered why Grace had texted to meet at the preserve. It was the first time she had texted him since the night before when all hell had broken loose in the locker room. Scott had been able to stop Violet and save Brett but Garret had gotten away. When he had seen Ella alone, Grace no where in sight he had been a bit worried.

The night before

Moving from the group of lacrosse players as they crowded the halls, cops swarming in and out, Liam made his way over to Ella and Kira, both engaged in conversation. “Hey where’s Grace at?”

Ella had sighed, looking up from her phone. “Emergency came up with her uncle. She texted me, said she had to leave immediately. She said she would text me tomorrow. It’s just weird.”

Kira had tried to smile a bit, hoping to calm her nerves. “It probably has something to do Kate. I’m sure she’s fine.” Liam had noted that Kira too was a bit worried, even though she was trying to hide it from Ella.

His eyes glanced back down at his phone as he scrolled to his messages, stopping over Graces name.

“Liam, there’s something really important I need to show you. I think I may have found a way to help with your control. Meet me at the preserve around 8 and don’t tell Scott. I’m not sure it this will work and don’t want to get his hopes up-Grace.” Sliding the phone back into his pocket, he wondered down the road neighboring the forest, his eyes and nose peeled for Grace.

The hit had come so suddenly that Liam hadn’t been prepared. His body jolted forward, hitting the ground hard enough that he heard a crack. Groaning, he rolled over to his back, his arm moving around to his side, wincing when his hand brushed against what was most likely a broken rib.

“Sorry about that Liam. You know, these roads out here can be pretty hazardous.” Garret smirked as he stepped from the driver’s side, the lacrosse stick held tightly in his hands. Before Liam could react, his former friend stuck the end of the stick into his chest, the blade piercing easily through his flesh. The burning was what Liam felt first, an aching burn slowly seeping into his skin the moment the blade entered. His body fall back, trembling as he screamed. His hands clawed at his chest, taking note of a black substance oozing from the wound.

“What the hell did you do to me!” Liam turned his eyes to Garret who stood proudly, examining the blood coated blade.

“I stuck you with a very rare and powerful wolfsbane. I’m guessing your precious alpha hadn’t mentioned how deadly it is to your kind.” Reaching forward, Garret took a hold of Liams arms, and with surprising strength started to drag him around the side of the truck. Liam had wanted to fight back but whatever Garret had poisoned him with was acting fast, making his body weak. “Now I dosed you with a enough to slow you down a bit but the longer its in your blood, more than likely it will reach your heart and kill you. If Scott doesn’t help me get Violet back, I don’t tell him where you are and you die…along with that pretty hunter girlfriend…oh sorry ex-girlfriend right Liam.”

Garret had dropped Liams body, long enough to get the back of the truck bed open before resuming his mission. The strong scent of peaches hit him before he saw her. Garret dragged him up, Liam tensing when he saw Grace. She was lying on her side, her arms tied behind her back, her ankles taped together, another strip pulled tight across her mouth.

When Grace saw Liam, she continued her struggles, trying to speak around the tape to no avail. Her fingers felt numb against the thick tape, her head still throbbing even now from the hit she had taken. Liam was pushed into the back, Garret locking it back up as he hopped back into the driver’s side, speeding away.

“Grace.” Liam moved his body over to her bound one, his hand moving to gently peel back the tape on her mouth. “Are you ok? Are you hurt?” His eyes scanned her over, looking for any injuries she might have had.

“I’m fine just my head hurts.” She felt her eyes well up as she looked at Liam. “I’m so sorry. Garret, he blindsided me last night in the parking lot. He got my phone and sent the message. God if I hadn’t have been so stupid….”

“Hey sh, sh, sh its ok Grace. This isn’t your fault ok.” Liam moved his hand brushing the disheveled hair from her face. After a few moments, the truck had come to a stop, both of them listening as Garret got out of the truck and walked around, opening the truck bed.

Grace felt her body get jerked from the truck, hearing Liams calls for her as Garret pulled her out. She felt the tape around her ankles cut loose, his hand moving to grip her bound wrist. Feeling her legs free, she was going to take the opportunity to fight back when she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her temple.

“Garret don’t! Please just let her go.” Liam scrambled to a sitting position, wincing as he clutched his chest, the dull throb growing in his chest.

“I won’t have to hurt her if you do what I say. Now get out of the truck slowly. You try anything I will shoot her.” To drive his point home, he pressed the gun tighter. Grace tried to hold back the whimper of pain as she felt the barrel dig into her skin.

Liams eyes stayed locked on Garret, flashing between blue and gold every so often. Once he was fully out of the truck he started to move, walking in the direction Garret had told him, his hold on Grace still tight and secure. He felt helpless not being able to do anything. He knew he could try to shift but he didn’t want to take the risk with the gun still pointed at Grace.

“Ok stop. See that well. There’s a rope ladder. Your going to climb down until you reach the bottom.” Liam had no choice as he did what Garret said, taking on last look at Grace before descending down further into the old well. It felt as if hours had passed before he had reached the bottom, letting for and landing in the water, feeling it come up to his mid chest.

Grace felt the tape around her wrists loosen, he body pushed forward towards the well. Turning her head, she came face to face with the gun as Garret pointed it at her. “Ok now your turn. Start climbing.”

“Garret you don’t have to do this ok. There has to be another way. Maybe we..” she flinched, her hands moving to cover her ears as the shot rang through the preserve. The bullet had barely missed, connecting with the edge of the well she was standing beside.

“Shut up and start climbing or the next time I won’t miss.” He had shouted, his eyes blazing with fury, the gun steady in his hand. Seeing that there was no way to talk him down, Grace reluctantly pulled herself over the edge, her hands gripping the rope ladder as she slowly lowered herself down. She continued down, feeling the chill from the water below and the rocks around her, realizing she was only dressed in the jeans shorts and t shirt she had worn to the game the night before.

She yelped when her foot made contact with the water, the cold seeping through her shoe before she slowly slipped in, reluctantly letting go of the ladder as t was quickly pulled up. The two captives starred up, Garrets figure smaller now than before.

“For both your sakes I hope Scott is quick.” And with that he was gone, leaving the two teens alone. Moments passed in silence, each of them trying to process everything that was happening.

“They’ll find us. Scott, my uncle. I know they will.” Grace had been the first to speak. She had believed her words, remembering all the times Scott had come through when the decks were stacked. This time wouldn’t be any different.

Taking another look up at the top of the well, Liam was not so sure. “I hope your right.”

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