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#She might crack a few of his ribs but it’s fine probably
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Silver Lining 6
Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.
Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes
Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.
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You yawn as you look into the barren depths of your cup. Bucky sits up and rolls his shoulders, a dimple in his cheek. He looks you over as you furrow your brow curiously; do you have something on your face?
“W-what?” You bat your lashes.
“Should've got ya something with caffeine,” he says.
“Oh… little l-late,” you look over as the baristas wipe the counters. It's almost closing time, “s-s-speaking of-f.”
“Mm, yeah, I suppose,” he slides over his stapled papers, “you got all my notes. When I get back, we'll figure out the final draft and get the mic going.”
“S-sounds g-good,” you stutter and swallow another yawn. When you're tired, you can barely speak straight. “I sh-should head ou-out.”
You chomp down as yet another yawn rolls up your throat and your eyes nearly roll back. You smile as best you can and stand, grabbing your bag to pack up. He gets to his feet and pulls on his jacket.
“I'll give you a ride,” he offers.
“No, n-no, it's o-okay–”
“You shouldn't walk,” he looks outside as the night contrasts the white ground, snow still piling high.
“J-just as bad d-driving,” you comment.
“I got snow tires,” he insists, “really, I'd… I'd feel bad if you walked.”
“Y-you would?” You snort.
He gives you a look. That look. The one that warns caution. You put your hands up defenselessly.
“Fine, I-I'll let y-you drive m-me,” you surrender. “B-b-but you should know, I'm n-not that h-ho-hopeless.”
“Never said you were,” he pulls a beanie over his gray hair, “not a big fan of the cold myself.”
“Yeah, i-it probably m-makes your b-bones hurt,” you slide your arms into your coat.
“You making fun of me?” He scowls.
“No-o, I just… my st-stepdad always says–”
“It's fine. It does,” he sniffs, “cracked a few ribs playing ball in college. They never heal right.”
“Ouch,” you hook your bag on your shoulder.
“You got a curfew?” He checks his watch.
“Wh-what? I-I'm thirty,” you exclaim.
He chuckles. That takes you off guard.
“I know, I'm not too old to make jokes too.”
“Y-yeah, I w-wasn't–”
“Relax, it's fine. Better go before we're snowed in,” he leads you to the door, thanking the staff as he opens the door and waits for you to go ahead of him.
Well, there might blizzard brewing outside but he seems to be thawing.
🩶
You get home to a quiet house. Your sister, Kira, hushes you as you come upstairs, her children already asleep. She has a clay mask on as she hogs the bathroom going through her nightly routine. You dip into your room and hide.
You didn't expect them to wait up for you. That's ridiculous, but no one even asked about the job. It must be the excitement of a full house. Your sister does everything right so of course they'd want to focus on her. Maybe tomorrow.
You get in your pajamas and settle into bed. It’s hard to still your mind and the jittery energy still swirling inside of you. You put on a lofi video and let it play as you close your eyes. You have the weekend to make the last tweaks and you’ll finally be onto the next step. You hope.
You spend Saturday penned up in your room, hunched over at your desk as you go through the notes from your meeting. As the clock ticks close to noon, your phone vibes, drawing you back to the land of the living. You rub your eye sockets and groan. You need to eat.
You check your phone; you have a message. You flick your thumb up and blink at the text. It’s Bucky. You still haven’t saved him as a contact, recognising him only by the last four digits of his number.
‘Quick pitstop. Forgot to ask last night. How can I pay you?’
You chew your thumb as you think. That’s the awkward part. Even though you’re doing work, it’s still a bit strange. It isn’t like a company where the money just pops into your account on schedule. 
‘I can give details when you get back. Hate to add stress to your trip.’
You hit send and sit back, stretching your neck. Your phone buzzes again. You don’t expect a quick response.
‘Asking now. Will be heading into no reception. Wanted to pay you for scriptwork. Will pay rest after recording.’
Your stomach knots. You’re trying to be polite but you can’t deny that you could use the money. With Christmas tiptoeing closer, you should really get on gift shopping.
‘Right. I have Venmo.’
You tap the arrow and wait. He doesn’t answer right away. When he answers, it’s just the thinking emoji, followed by another text.
‘I’ll figure that out. Do I need your email or something?’
You sweep away the chat and tap into your app. You copy your payment code and paste it into the chat. You follow it with a quick message; ‘should prompt you how. If you need to wait, it’s fine.’
Thumbs up. That’s it. You accept that. To be fair, from him, it’s an improvement. It seems you’ve found a tenuous truce with him. You’ll take that if it means you’re not scooping into your savings.
You can hear your sister and mother gabbing as you leave your room. You stop at the top of the stairs and brace yourself. Things didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms.
You descend and sneak past the dining room where they sit and sort through your mother’s vast Christmas card collection. You’re careful not to draw any attention as you enter the kitchen and quietly pop a pod into the keurig and set your mug on the tray.
Your coffee brews with a grind, giving away your endeavour. You don’t look back as you hear the scuff of slippers. Kira enters and clinks her empty cup down on the counter not far from you. She couldn’t wait until you finished.
“So, how was your job? A bit late to be rushing off to work.”
“It’s f=freelance,” you say. “It’s g-g-good.”
She scoffs, “ah, well, that’s great. You can get out of mom and dad’s hair soon enough.”
“Y-yeah,” you agree, cheeks scalding with embarrassment, “w-working on i-it.”
“Oh, I’m sure. You know, Catherine called me the other day…” she mentions your previous coworker, her friend from college, “guess she got a promotion.”
You nod. She’s goading you. What does she expect you to say? Does she expect you to apologise for leaving a bad situation?
You take your cup of coffee and sidle away. She chuckles, the way she always does when you don’t feed into her drama. Her mug hits the tray heavily.
“I’ll tell her you say hi,” she preens.
You keep going without an answer. You yawn as you come upstairs and hear whispers ahead of you. You rush forward, sloshing hot coffee onto your hand as you approach your open door. Why didn’t you close it?”
As you get to the threshold, there’s a sudden clatter and you gasp. Jamie sits in your desk chair as your laptop lays face down on the floor. Casey is underneath the desk tugging on the power cord. You shriek and sloppily slam the mug onto the shelf mounted just beside the door.
“W-w-w-what are you d-d-doing?” Your emotion overwhelms your voice, “how–”
You hear footsteps rush up the stairs and Kira hisses as she marches down the hall, “shhh, my kids are sleeping.”
“No, th-they aren’t,” you hurry forward and take Jamie out of the chair. As you shoo Casey, your sister enters your room.
“Don’t hurt him,” she demands.
“Wh-what? I w-wouldnt–”
“Don’t touch my kids,” she comes forward and scoops up Casey then takes Jamie’s hand, “they’re just curious.”
You bend down to pick up your laptop. You turn it over and find lines streaked up in a spectrum. Smashed. Broken. Demolished.
“They b-broke it,” you whimper.
“Ugh, whatever,” she hauls her kids back to the door, “it’s just a computer.”
You stare at the ruins and shake your head at her back. What are you going to do?
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hummingbird-of-light · 9 months
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Against All Odds
Part 651
McCoy
McCoy had a good time sitting around with Christine and Uhura, even if his aching muscles were throbbing at him the whole time. He hadn’t had the time to just sit and talk with them yet. Both girls had very fun winter breaks it sounded like. But eventually he began to get up. He’d promised Scotty they’d rest and read after band practice.
Keeping a grimace from his face as he moved, Uhura touched his arm gently.
“She’s been glaring daggers at your back this whole time,” Uhura said softly. “Your side is true, isn’t it?”
McCoy felt a hint of warmth on his face. He glanced at Christine.
“Yes,” he said. “Hers is all lies.”
He was grateful to stretch out on his bed a few minutes later. He was probably due for another couple pain pills, but he really didn’t want to get back up yet. He could always ask Scotty to grab them when he came in.
McCoy still felt bad that he hadn’t noticed how tired Scotty was. He’d make it up to him when he came in.
He didn’t have long to wait. Scotty entered the room just moments later. McCoy couldn’t wait for Scotty to curl up with him. He’d help his fiancé relax, read quietly to him and then just hold him close while Scotty slept.
But when Scotty continued to look nervous and then said the nurse was coming up, McCoy felt a wave of anger rise in him. Before he could say much there was a knock.
“No,” he said coldly. Scotty looked hurt at his tone, but still went to answer the door.
“You didn’t quite tell me what the injury was Scotty,” Ms. Ryan said, entering the room, “so I wasn’t quite sure what I might need.” Both her hands carried cases. “Hello Leonard,” she greeted him pleasantly.
“Hello,” he said automatically.
“Is here ok?” she asked, gesturing at the other bed.
“Yes,” Scotty managed behind her. She set down her cases, then turned back to McCoy.
“Now Scotty says you’re injured. So why don’t you show me where and we can get this taken care of.” Ms. Ryan was no nonsense, so was McCoy imagining the slight flush on her face as she spoke?
“I’m fine,” McCoy said stubbornly.
“Len—”
“Leonard, it’s- it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Ms. Ryan said. Ok, he hadn’t imagined the color on her face. What had Scotty told her? McCoy kept his puzzlement to himself.
“It’s just below his ribs,” Scotty volunteered.
“Ok,” Ms. Ryan said, looking over her shoulder at Scotty, then back to McCoy. “Shirt off then please.”
McCoy glared at Scotty as he slowly began to pull off his shirt. He couldn’t believe Scotty had gone behind his back like this.
“Oh my,” Ms. Ryan said as the dark purple bruise made its appearance. “You were right to get me. Please lie back down, Leonard.” The nurse turned back to pull on a thin pair of gloves and grab her tricorder off the other bed.
Scotty took a hesitant couple steps closer. McCoy gave him another angry look, then turned his face away.
Ms. Ryan waved the tricorder slowly over the injury. Her eyes widened, but she quickly made her expression neutral again. Setting the device aside, she looked at McCoy.
“May I?”
“Fine.” McCoy didn’t keep the annoyance from his voice.
Ms. Ryan’s finger gently probed at the bruise. McCoy couldn’t hold in a gasp of pain.
“Right there Leonard?” Ms. Ryan asked. He gave a brief nod. “You have a cracked rib. What have you been doing for pain?”
He pointed at the bottle on the nightstand. The nurse let out a sigh and went back to her cases.
“You should have come to me when it happened.” The flush crossed her face again. “You’ve been in pain you didn’t need to be. I can have it all fixed like new in ten minutes.”
“No.” The word was out of his mouth and he was struggling to sit back up.
“What?” “Len!”
Scotty and Ms. Ryan were looking at him in surprise.
“It’s a cracked rib Len! Let her fix it.” Scotty was looking at him in disbelief.
“I can’t leave you like this Leonard,” Ms. Ryan said firmly.
McCoy clenched his fists, and pressed his teeth tight.
“Fine,” he said angrily. “But the rib only. You can do just that, right?”
“Well, yes, but it would be silly to not heal the bruise too.” Ms. Ryan was still looking at him in surprise.
“Rib only.” Carefully he lay back down. Quickly the nurse set up her device and got it over him.
Ten minutes passed tensely in silence. McCoy wouldn’t look at either. He turned his head away and closed his eyes. Anger knotted his stomach, yet he couldn’t help wonder what Scotty had told Ms. Ryan.
A beep.
There was the sound of cases closing, and McCoy looked over.
“Try sitting up,” Ms. Ryan instructed him.
Cautiously, he moved. Nothing hurt except the ache of the bruise. He took a deep breath. No pain.
“Better?” Ms. Ryan asked with a smile.
“Yes,” he said grudgingly.
“Good! Ok. Well gentlemen,” Ms. Ryan picked up her cases, “next time, please be more careful.” The color climbed her face again. What had Scotty told her? He saw her swallow. “After all, safe sex isn’t just about using protection.”
McCoy blinked in surprise, and felt his face heat. He saw Scotty’s face turning equally red.
“Thanks, of course,” Scotty mumbled as he opened the door, then closed it behind her.
McCoy stared across the room with wide eyes. “What did you tell her happened?!”
Part 652
Scotty
Scotty was very glad that Ms. Ryan had checked on Leonard. He didn't even want to imagine what could have happened with a cracked rip. It could have punctured the lung or other important organs! Leonard could have been hurt even more than he already was.
The Scotsman still couldn't shake off the feeling of annoyance when he thought about how grumpy his fiancé had been, not even thanking the nurse. And how stupid he was! How could he not have Ms. Ryan treat all of his injuries? How could one boy be so stubborn?!
Leonard still glared at Scotty from across the room, but he also looked confused. He was wondering what story the Scotsman had told Ms. Ryan. So Scotty finally chose to enlighten him.
"I... said that it was an accident. In bed. While... making love."
He didn't think that his cheeks could blush even more, but apparently it was possible. And he saw the same expression mirrored on Leonard's face.
Eventually, the prince ran a hand through his hair and groaned.
"Oh my gosh... that's... I can't believe it!"
Scotty could tell that Leonard was still angry at him, but he seemed glad that Ms. Ryan didn't know what really had happened.
"I'm sorry about going behind yer back, Len. But I'm not sorry about Ms. Ryan helping ye. Ye *needed* to be treated."
Slowly, Leonard's hand dropped aside and he looked at his fiancé again. It was hard to read his expression this time.
Scotty straightened his back, looking more confident.
"Forgive me or don't forgive me, I know that I did what's right."
They just looked at each other for a long moment, before Leonard finally shrugged, staring at the ground.
"If you say so..." he grumbled quietly and Scotty let out a heavy sigh.
Why couldn't Leonard just admit that the Scotsman was right? Was it so hard to say that he had been wrong?
"And now I need some sleep. After all, I didn't get an eye closed last night."
Instead of joining Leonard, Scotty walked over to his own bed. He took off his shoes and lay down, facing the wall.
If Leonard was offended, he might as well be.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to relax, even though he knew that he wouldn't be successful.
When he heard the sound of footsteps, one eye opened slightly, but he didn't turn around.
A moment later, arms wrapped around him from behind and a hand ran through his hair.
"Listen Scotty, I..."
There was a long pause. Apparently Leonard didn't manage to force the words to leave his mouth.
"I'm... sorry. I... I needed help. And I didn't want it, because I was too stubborn. And I made you worry."
Scotty felt tears in his eyes as he remembered the fear of the last night. And the images he had seen whenever he had closed his eyes.
Slowly, he turned around in Leonard's arms to look at his love.
There was an apologetic look on the prince's face as he placed a hand on Scotty's cheek and stroked it gently.
"It's okay. I just don't understand it. Why didn't ye let Ms. Ryan heal the injury completely?"
Leonard let out a sigh as he snuggled a wee bit closer.
"Pete and the others can't know. They can't know that I told someone about my injuries or else they think that I used my title and my position."
Scotty narrowed his eyes in confusion.
"That's nonsense, mo ghràdh! Everyone would have asked for help. And everyone would have been treated in the same way."
But Leonard didn't seem to believe it. Furthermore, it seemed like he wanted to keep the bruises to prove something. He wanted to prove that he was strong. Which wasn't necessary at all.
"Ye don't have to prove anything..."
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softquietsteadylove · 2 years
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06 - Hurt/Comfort
"You're hurt."
Gil turned to look over his shoulder--as much as he could bear to. "It's not bad."
Thena didn't argue with him. She walked around until she could sit across from him in the empty room of what would become a beautiful, lavish temple of Babylon. For now, it was just the bare bones of a building. "Gilgamesh."
He smiled. He should have known she would notice. She was good at noticing things about him, and had been since they'd met in that damned room. "I'll be fine. I'm sure Ajak will be done soon."
She tilted her head at him, unblinking and blank faced. "Ajak is nearly half done."
Oh, stars above, it was moving that slowly?
"Gilgamesh," she repeated, leaving her crouched seat on the simple stone block to kneel in front of him. She looked up at him, her eyes expressing far more than she ever did. "Let me help."
Whether it was the hand resting on his knee or the way she was looking at him with those big, beautiful, sea green eyes of hers; he was too weak to fight it.
Thena reached up, and for a minute he thought she might touch her hand to his cheek. But what a silly thought that was; she raised up his arm as far as it would go and slipped her other hand under his armour plating. He let out a loud, rough groan. "Sorry."
"Are you?" he grunted as she released him much more gently. He lowered his arm back to his side and screwed his face tight as he did.
"At least half are broken, more probably cracked or bruised," she diagnosed evenly as she stood, moving around to his back. He couldn't bring himself to twist in his seat and look behind him again. She patted his shoulders, fingers ringing off the metal. "Dispel it."
Gil blushed.
Thena leaned down, catching the colour in his ears. "Now is no time for modesty, Gilgamesh. I am trying to help."
He sighed (a little too deeply, his ribs informed him). He released the breath, and the plating vanished, leaving just the micromesh tight over his skin. He held his breath as he felt Thena unwind it with nimble fingers and surprisingly soft movements.
Her hands were warm.
Thena continued until he was bare from the hips up. She tilted her head at his hunched back. He had a few scratches on his sides, some bruising where the metal of his armour could only minimise impact, not dispel it completely. He was thickly muscled everywhere, and his back was no exception. Every breath, every slight movement made the tightly trained muscles ripple under his golden skin.
"Thena?"
He startled as her arms wound around him from the back. He did his best to keep from jumping as her hands ran over his sides as lightly as possible. Thena walked around him again, a deep frown on her face. He attempted a smile, "not that bad?"
"Worse," she glared at him, resettling herself in front of him. "You should have brought it up sooner."
Gil shrugged the whichever shoulder was freer to move. "Bones can take a long time for her. And there were plenty of people who needed her help more."
Thena kept silent, glaring at him again as she pushed him gently. He sat up straighter as she urged, wincing as he did. Her frown wasn't going anywhere. "Other side seems fine. But this is bruised too."
Gil's eyes travelled down as she touched his clavicle, fingers trailing down the bone until they slid down his chest between his pecs. She was crouched between his legs, looking up at him, face much closer than he remembered it being.
Thena held his eyes for that moment. Then she stood again, standing back from him. She took hold of the billowing white fabric that adorned her own armour, tearing it like it was nothing. He so much as got his mouth open before she glared at him again, "quiet."
He obeyed. She came over, folding his arm for him and cushioning the weight of it in the breezy fabric. She tied it behind his neck before sitting down in front of him again. Her eyes travelled over him. "Pain?"
He offered her a tight smile. "Not so bad."
He flinched as she made the gesture of reaching for his ribs again. She pulled back, still deeply dissatisfied. "Not so good."
He nodded, conceding to her. She leaned forward again, and he wondered what else was wrong with him. But she cupped his cheeks in her hands and pulled his head level with hers.
"I do not want to see you in pain, Gil," she said so softly it practically got carried off by the breeze. But her thumb on his cheekbone was real. Her fluttering lashes and weak smile were real. He closed his eyes, but her lips touching his forehead were undeniably real.
By the time he opened his eyes she was standing and on her way out again. He was no longer wondering how long Ajak would take. But he did want to know where Thena was going. "Leaving me to fend for myself?"
He could hear the smile in her voice. "To find you a shirt."
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shima-draws · 3 years
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Lies down and cries because I love Hop so much
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Note
What would happen in FOM if jason got hurt or they couldnt find him after a fight or something?
Father of Mine – Masterlist
Well, we've seen a little glimpse of Jason returning from patrol a little beaten up before.
But if Jason was missing, Y/N would be freaking out. After trying to call and text Jason 50+ times, she would finally call Bruce:
"B-B-Bruce," Y/N managed to stutter through her panic. "He hasn't checked in with me for hours. He never does this. He always texts or a calls to tell me he's OK."
Bruce didn't need his daughter to say his name; he knew who she was talking about.
"We'll find him, Y/N." It was a promise. "Why don't you come to the manor?"
She looked around her apartment. "But what...what if he comes here?"
"If he's hurt, he'll come to the manor first," Bruce reasoned.
Y/N knew he was right.
If Jason was severely injured, he would do anything to stop Y/N from seeing him in such a state – at least until he could get patched up by Alfred or one of the boys. On nights like those, he always stopped at the manor first – or even one of his safe houses.
And if Jason was missing, it was most likely because he was injured or being injured.
"OK," Y/N sighed. "I'm on my way."
-
An hour later, it was Dick who ended up finding Jason. But not before fighting a dozen lackeys.
Jason was knocked unconscious, secured to a wall with chains.
It seemed like overkill, but Dick could only assume that the criminals of Gotham started to believe Red Hood had super-human strength with the reputation he'd gained.
"Red Hood," Dick shook him.
Jason seemed to be slowly coming to, maybe from recognizing a familiar voice.
"F-Fuck," he groaned through his helmet.
Said helmet had a crack down the center, but it was still intact. However, only one of the eyes lit up and the voice modulator sounded damaged.
"Black Mask?" Dick asked.
He'd recognized some of them.
Though there leader seemed long gone. But not before beating the shit out of Red Hood.
Jason nodded. "The fucker really hates me. Got the drop on me. Don't know how."
Dick nodded and looked at the chains. "Lucky for you, I got the key off one of his goons."
Once the chains were off Jason's body, Dick stepped back.
"Can you walk?"
Jason ignored the question and shakily stood.
From the way he was holding his body, Dick started calculating all the injuries Jason probably had from various patches of blood, open wounds, and the way he was holding his body.
"I'm warning you now..." Dick began. "You've got an extremely worried girlfriend waiting back at the cave."
That seemed to wake up Jason even more. "Fuck. How long have I been out?"
Dick shrugged. "She called it in over an hour ago. Said she'd been trying to get a hold of you for over 2 hours, though."
"What the fuck are we waiting around for then?" Jason snapped.
Dick bit his tongue before saying, "Look, Hood, I'm just trying to make sure you can walk outta this place without collapsing. B is on his way with the batmobile."
Jason was hunched over as he started walking alongside Dick. He was hunched over, which made Dick guess he had a few broken or cracked ribs. And his right leg might be broken.
A few seconds later, the batmobile came screeching to a halt.
"Go," Dick nudged Jason towards it. "I've got my bike."
Without saying anything to Bruce, Jason immediately reached for the comms connected to the batmobile and patched himself into the cave.
"Yes, father?" It was Damian.
"Get Y/N," Jason demanded.
The boy didn't argue and there was a few seconds of silence.
"Jason!? Jason, are you OK?" Y/N was clearly panicked.
'God, you are such a piece of shit for worrying her,' Jason thought to himself.
"I'm fine. I'm OK."
Bruce side eyed Jason, knowing he was far from OK.
"You were gone for so long," Y/N whispered. "I thought-I thought–"
"I know," Jason cut her off. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm on my way to you now. OK? I'm alright. Just...can you take a deep breath for me?"
He waited until he heard Y/N doing as he requested.
"That's good. A few more, OK?"
Y/N did as she was told.
"I'll be there soon, alright?"
He waited for her to respond.
"Yeah. Alright," she finally answered.
"I love you," Jason told her.
He didn't give a damn that Bruce was his audience.
"I love you, too."
Jason hung up.
Dick beat them to the manor with his motorcycle. And he must've warned Y/N about his guesses on Jason's injuries, because she came running to his side of the batmobile as soon as it was in park.
"Can you walk?" Y/N repeated Dick's earlier question.
"I'm fine," Jason's jaw clenched as he tried to fight through the pain.
Y/N moved to wrap Jason's arm around her shoulder, but Bruce stepped in before she could.
"I've got him," Bruce told her quietly.
When they finally got him to the treatment table, Y/N gently took off Jason's Red Hood helmet.
The sight underneath made her feel sick.
The entire right side of Jason's face was bruised, which explained the giant crack in his helmet.
"I'm fine," Jason told her once again when he saw her expression.
Which caused Y/N to cry out, "You're clearly not fine, Jason! Jesus Christ!"
"Y/N, can you go get me a bucket of ice from the kitchen, please?" Bruce cut in. Then gave a look to his youngest. "Help her, Damian."
All the boys knew there was plenty of ice in the cave. But Y/N didn't know that. Clearly Bruce had requested it to get Y/N out of the cave for a moment while they accessed Jason's injuries. Damian would distract her with other unnecessary things to grab while they were upstairs.
"Thanks," Jason muttered, knowing Bruce just saved Y/N from a panic attack.
But Bruce didn't acknowledge it. "Can you take off your uniform?"
Jason shared a look with him for a moment before he regrettably shook his head no.
So Bruce helped Jason remove it for him, having no choice but to use a knife and cut some parts of it off.
Jason sat on the table shirtless with just his black compression shorts.
Bruce sighed at the sight before him.
Jason had three cracked ribs, a broken fibula on his right leg, at least five lacerations that would require stitches, and countless others that still needed to be cleaned. The right side of his face would be covered in bruises for at least three weeks.
Damian did a good job with distracting Y/N, because the two didn't come back down to the cave until 35 minutes later.
And by then, Bruce had already finished all his stitches and Alfred had managed to wrap Jason's leg in a cast.
Bruce and Alfred washed their hands.
"For the broken ribs," Alfred began, "you know the usual practice, Master Jason."
He nodded.
Bruce stepped forward and grabbed the fresh bags of ice from Y/N. "I'll show you how to wrap his ribs," knowing fully well that she would be the one doing it for Jason.
Y/N nodded, grateful to find a way to actually be helpful.
Jason was struggling to meet her gaze as she did as Bruce instructed.
His mind was screaming at him, 'She deserves better than this. It isn't fair that she has a boyfriend who worries and panics her like I do.'
When Y/N was done wrapping, she cupped the side of his face that wasn't bruised. Without even realizing it, Jason leaned into her touch.
"Here," she offered a few pills and a glass of water.
If it was anyone else handing them to him, Jason would've fought it and asked what the hell they were. But with Y/N, he swallowed them without question.
"Can you make it to bed?" She whispered.
But Jason knew if he said no, she would sleep down here with him – no matter how much he or Bruce or Alfred protested.
So Jason nodded and took her hands as he struggled to get off the table.
"Easy, now." Alfred warned.
"We'll take it slow," Y/N told him.
Eventually, they made it to Jason's old bedroom.
---
An hour later, Bruce finally started making his way to bed.
But as he passed Jason's bedroom, he saw light flickering from underneath the door – clearly from the TV.
Bruce quietly opened the door, planning on turning it off so both of them could sleep peacefully.
But what he found was Jason sitting up in bed, wide awake.
And Y/N curled up beside him, fast asleep. Clearly she had fallen asleep as close to Jason as possible without actually touching him, too scared to hurt him.
"Need something?" Jason asked him without taking his eyes off the TV.
Bruce crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "I'm not sure you understand how worried she was about you..."
"Here we go. I can sense a lecture coming."
"I know what it's like to fight as if you have nothing to lose," Bruce told him quietly. "What do you think I was like before Dick?"
Jason didn't say anything, but finally pulled his eyes away from the TV to look at Bruce.
"But neither of us can do that anymore," Bruce continued. "Because we have people waiting for us to come home." His eyes moved to Y/N. "She is waiting for us to come home."
Jason still said nothing, but looked down at Y/N.
His fingers brushed some of her hair away from her face.
"You need to be smarter," Bruce insisted. "Not for me. Not for Gotham. Not for Red Hood. For her."
"I know," Jason finally spoke.
Bruce was surprised by his response, fully expecting Jason to pick a fight with him.
"I told her I'd quit all of it if she asked me to," Jason confessed as he still looked down at his girlfriend.
"We both know she would never do that," Bruce admitted.
"Maybe she should."
--------
I don't know what came over me, but I guess I was inspired. 😅
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bloodycassian · 3 years
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Tender - Azriel x reader - Pregnancy fic. Fem! reader. LONG!!! 
Prompt -  Hi! I just read most of your imagines, and i loved them!  You have me as your faithful follower, I don't comment much because English is not my first language. Could you write one where az manages to perceive that reader is pregnant right in the middle of the war?
You woke to yelling. Not screaming. Not fear or pain, but battle cries that you'd grown to love. They made your blood sing in harmony with the Illyrian voices. It made your heart hammer in your chest, and your muscles tense - ready to fight. Azriel groaned beside you, curling around your waist like a vise. You managed to break free from his muscled arms. Pale light shining through the tent tinted his shadows a light gray. They wrapped around you, drawing a chill down your spine. The war cries grew louder. "Get up. It's time." You shook him, pulling on your light armor. He covered his face with his hands, and did not leave the cot. He groaned again when you pulled the blanket off his mostly naked body. He was never a morning person.  Cassian rushed in when you were putting the last of your gear on, and Az froze. His grip on his pants went white knuckled. Cassian's face was pale, and before he could say anything Azriel was hurriedly pulling on the rest of his clothes. Your stomach dropped at the sight of the Warlord. "It's a diversion." You said, voice hollow. Cassian's slight nod was enough to make the breath leave you. "It's going to be fine." Azriel grunted, pulling his tunic over his head. "We just need to move the troops. Get Rhys here." He waved a hand at his brother dismissively.  Cassian grabbed Az's wrist.  He forced the male to look at him, to see his worried eyes. You tensed, ready to defend your mate even against Cassian's might. "Rhys is on the battlefield already. We're on our own." His voice was low, and the warning in his eyes was enough to make the hair on your arms raise. Azriel pulled away from him, slowly.  He began strapping his weapons belts on, pushed his hair back and sighed. "Where do you need us?"   The air was cold, and the howls of battle echoed across the hills. Azriel's shadows curled around your legs, comforting. Then they slithered their way across the valley where the battle was beginning.  + You could barely raise your sword by the end of it. The mud had been the most challenging part of the entire fight. The enemy horses had done a good job of making obstacles when they fell in the mud, lame with broken ankles and necks. You wished to put them out of their misery, but there was no time. The forces seemed to come in waves. Like a test against your small unit.  Few were lost from your side. The dewey grass steamed in the morning light, carrying up the reek of enemy blood with it. You wiped your face, trying to get the taste of dirt and blood out of your mouth. Sharp stinging pain seared your ribs under your arm. You hissed. Then, you felt the warmth of your own blood. You swore, and looked for a medic that wasn't tending to wounded on the ground.  Some Illyrian bodies were being lifted away, high into the air for burial at their homes. You dared not take a healer away from more critically injured soldiers. You nodded grimly to the ones that you passed. They were covered in blood, and yet still gave you fierce grins when you went by. They respected you. More than any other Illyrian Female before you. It was sad, but you hoped to forge a new path for other females of Illyria. You held an arm under your side and limped your way out of the mud. The packed mess inside your boots made moving your feet hard. You couldn't wait to shower.  You spotted Cassian far down the field, and watched as he raised his sword high over his head. Your stomach twisted in pity for the suffering animal under him. You looked away before you could see the lifeblood drain from the horse's neck. He sent a blessing to the Mother for the animal, and continued on to the next suffering soul that would meet its end via his blade.  + You hadn't seen her in a long while. Too long for a friend, but she gave you that same look she always did when she saw you hobbling up to her for help. Jeva was your favorite healer, and one you knew could keep a secret. She was round, and her voice was light and comforting. She smelled of nutmeg and berries. Something you had appreciated about her since you had met. "What is it this time?" She waved you inside, holding the tent flap open for you while you dumped your battle stained gear on the wood hutch beside the entrance.  The tent was light and airy, filled with small plants of different varieties and cluttered with boxes and books everywhere. Her desk and bed were shoved to the corner, and a long wood table took up the majority of her area. As if she had known you were coming, she already had potions of different types laid out on the end of the table. "Probably nothing." You said, pulling off your armor as gingerly as you could manage. The soft light flickered and changed to a harsh beam when she laid you down on her exam table. "I'm not supposed to be healing anymore you know. I'm retired." She clicked her tongue at you, earning a pained grin. It was hard for you to bother a healer for any amount of time for something that you were sure was so small. But something about it stung too much for it to be just a scrape. And you knew Cassian would lecture you about it being infected if he saw through your mask to the pain. Az would force you to see one anyway as soon as he learned of it.  "You know I wouldnt be here unless I had to be, Jeva." You said through your teeth as she cut away your muddied undershirt.  "Oh, I know. That's why I have my best potions ready." She laughed, then paused. Your shirt lay limp on the table. Her eyebrows knitted together at the sight of your open wound. "Is it bad?" You asked, craning to try to look for yourself. She held you down.  "Metal. Fragments are still in here, likely why it hasn't healed yet." You relaxed at that, grateful that it wasn't worse. "Thank the Mother. Az would have yelled all night." You rolled your eyes, and sighed as she started working on you. The first part was always the worst. The stinging hot potion that made the nerves around the wound numb.  "One-" She began her countdown, then poured. You growled at her, gripping the end of the stained table hard enough to crack. "Easy..." She warned, and smoothed down your hair. She knew how to take care of her patients, that was certain. You relaxed as the stinging eased. The dull ache that it left behind turned into a bad memory.  "I'm going to extract the blade then we can close you up. Simple and easy." She picked up her tools and began tugging away at your side. You could have fallen asleep with the relief the numbing potion brought. And with her humming in the air around you, it was a struggle not to. The time seemed to pass quickly, but when the clank of the metal tools jolted you from your dozing, the tent was lit in orange from the sunset outside. "Relax, we're going to close it up now. Once the potion wears off you will still be sensitive." She placed her hands over you, and the familiar warm vibrations of her healing magic set in. Then it stopped abruptly. You cracked open an eye, then narrowed your brows at her. "What is it?" You said gently, then again when she didnt reply. She stared at you, mouth agape. Her eyes locked to yours, even when you sat up to demand she tell you what the problem was. "Am I dying?!" you took her hand gently, in case she was going to push you away.  Then she started laughing, her hand gripping yours back. The warmth glowed in your palm, the light radiating out from it was starkly contrasting the tent walls bedecked in orange. The light she emitted shot through you, and you felt the wound tingle, and seal. You stared at her in shock. That amount of healing power was incredible. Especially for field medics.  "Youre not dying, no..." She waved a hand, fanning herself. Her eyes were glassy with tears. She sniffed and clutched your hand tighter. "Quite the opposite, darling." She pulled you in for a warm hug.  + You spent the rest of the evening with Jeva. Until she got a hurried message about student healers needing help on the battlefield. You stayed in her tent as long as you could manage with the ringing in your ears. You stared and stared at the mirror across from you, showing you the bloodied warrior that you wanted to be. That you wanted to stay.  The warrior that carried the Shadowsinger's child.  The thought made tears sting your eyes. You refused to let them fall. You had been ignoring his tugs down the bond for well over an hour. You knew he was concerned, but you couldn't bring yourself to shout back down. The only thing that echoed in your mind were Jeva's words "You're pregnant..."  Pregnant. Pregnant. Pregnant.  You nearly punched her when she told you she wasn't joking. The only reason you even believed her was because of that powerful zap of healing she sent to you. That she sent to scan your body and make sure the fetus was okay before you even knew about it. You could barely hear half the words she said as she told you your options.  You roiled with the thought now. The Mugwart she left on the table was daunting. You desperately wanted her back. Jeva would be able to deliberate with you. You knew she would tell you to do whatever makes you happy. You knew that. But you wondered how ethical the choice that made you happy was. Bringing a child into a world of war seemed cruel. Even if it made you happy. You distantly noticed Azriel as you passed him, walking to the forest edge just passed your tent. Worry laced the bond between you. You tried not to show anything back. But you knew he felt the tension, the void there. "Where the hell have you been?!" Azriel's eyes were furious when you passed him, his wings flared out slightly. You couldnt even look at him with anger back. Your emotions ran wild. You were frozen, and as numb as the potion Jeva had given you when she began removing the blade.  "Do you know how worried I have been?! I sent Cassian to-" He tried to grab for your hand to stop you, but you flicked him away. He stopped for a moment, stunned. Then returned with more energy than before. That yawning abyss in your bond was growing darker with shame, worry and anxiety. His shadows roiled around him as he caught up. "You dont get to-" "Azriel..." You stopped in the edge of the clearing. The small meadow was silent in the darkness, not even the monsters of Prythian dared roar tonight. Your mind did all the roaring you could handle, anyway. You tried to focus on the swaying grass, on the soft smell of wet bark and pine hanging in the air.  "Dont try to excuse this I need to know you're okay and-" He stormed in front of you, ready to burst with rage. His fear always made him angry. And for good reason after losing so many close to him.  A tear ran down your cheek, your face burned hot with hundreds of feelings at once. Fear, pain, shock, joy, hope.... elation. You wanted his children. You wanted to help raise his child. You wanted to see Azriel be a father. You knew he would be the best damn Illyrian father there had ever been.  The thought hit you like a well placed punch.  He saw your paleness, your tears and stopped his yelling. You fell to your knees, the mud splattering all around you. You wanted to lay down. Lay down and think about the implications of carrying his child. Would it be good for the baby to be born at all? Just because you wanted it didnt mean it needed to happen. You knew that Jeva would give you a potion to extract it without hesitation if it was what you wished. "I'm-" You choked out, fighting the panic that flooded you. Your mind roiled with the conflict of your mind and heart. It turned you into a muddied, dark ocean on the bond. A turmoil that he couldn't see past. If you were an ocean, he was your lighthouse on the cliffside. Signaling you home.   His eyes darted to your body, to your hands and how they wrung together in front of you. "I'm sorry. I just-" He sighed and took one of your hands. "I'm sorry." He kissed the back of it and brought his forehead to yours. He normally needed a lot longer to cool down after a fight, but seeing you in tears shocked him out of his pride. "I shouldn't have said that... I know you can take care of yourself." his voice was low, and he ran a hand comfortingly down your back. A hysteric laugh bubbled from your throat. It sounded like a sob. You didn't know exactly which it was. He sat back and pulled you into his lap, despite the grass being dewey and damp. He rocked you there for a few seconds before you had to tell him. Before he could be too close if he didnt want you anymore. The doubt crept into your head, and the nerves ate at you. Your heart raced, you could feel it in your neck. "Azriel..stop." You pushed away from him, to catch his beautiful dark eyes. They were painted in a silver hue by the moon above. You took in his face, the curve of his cheeks and lips for possibly the last time. You had to consider the worst possible outcome. You braced yourself for the rejection, for the pain of his reaction. You knew it had to come out. You knew you had to say it now or you never would. Your stomach flipped over and over.  You opened your mouth, a soft sob wracking out of you before you began. He froze. Went utterly still, his shadows even stopping for a second before whirling faster than before. Your eyes went wide. His nose flared, eyes narrowed. He held you closer, sniffing at your neck. He pulled back and his eyes were even wider than before. His mouth fell open when you nodded. "I'm-" "Youre-" his face went through a whirlwind of different emotion. Then, he broke out into a small laugh. He couldn't stop. You felt the tears running down your cheeks and didnt bother to wipe them away. "Honey... I'm sorry." He stopped laughing suddenly. "What do you want to do?" His eyes were masked, his expression the most serious you'd ever seen him. His aura on your bond seemed to go completely gray and still, as if he didn't want you to see him. He masked everything. In preparation for whatever you decide. The gesture made your heart squeeze in appreciation. You stammered, resting your forehead on his. "I dont know." You muttered, voice cracking. Then, he was wrapping his arms around you in a smothering hug. When he pulled away, he cradled your face in his hands. The hands that had seen so much cruelty in his life. The possibilities of the same thing happening to your child made your heart race. "I'm here for whatever decision you make." He brushed your cheek with a thumb. You nodded and let him hold you like that for a while. Quietly rocking back and forth with you in his lap. + You were near falling asleep when the war cries rang out again. Illyrians howling for their leaders to join them. Another onslaught of death coming their way. The calls were distant, but Azriel tensed the second he heard them. Your blood went cold. He buried his face to your chest, as if he wished he could hide there. "I'm not going." He said when you tried pushing him away. "I wont leave you." He promised, locking his muscled forearms around you. The echoes of battle cries faded. He stroked your hair, and traced his fingers along your back. Then he swore. "Let me take care of this." He said, voice edged with anger. Nerves pricked at your stomach, but you stood, wobbling on your feet slightly. He took off into the night sky painted in silvers and blues by the full moon. Then came racing back down right behind Rhys. the high lord took one breath and then he was hugging his brother. Azriel shoved him off, and they shot into the night sky. Well, Azriel did. He dragged Rhys with him. Grunts of pain and fleshy sounds of punching rang out.  You followed them high into the air where they had their conversation. Your wings led you around them with ease. "Stop fighting and use your words, boys." You warned. You recognized Azriels growl and smiled to yourself as they broke apart. Rhys adjusted his tunic and cleared his throat. "I need you there. Cassian is handling the Western front, the others need a leader."  Azriel began protesting against the high lord. "I cant with my mate-" "I know it feels impossible right now but-" "I will not, Rhys-" You set your jaw. If they wanted to fight over if you needed protection or not, you would take the option off the table all together. "I'll go." you said, voice strong since hearing Jeva announce what grew inside you. Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant. You shoved the thoughts away as far as you could. They both turned to you, horror striking Azriels features. "Absolutely not. No." Heat and rage flared down the bond. It made you want to defy everything he said. You locked eyes with him and glared. Rhys glanced between you with tense shoulders. He cleared his throat. "It would be a good compromise, Azriel. You can go together to the Eastern front. Think about it." He placed a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave him a grim smile.  "I wont say a word." He said, summoning the darkness around him then winnowing away. Azriel's cold eyes made him look like a statue. "Let's go." He said, and started circling lower. Back to the meadow.  "I'm going, you cant stop me from following you." You said, expecting a fight. He said nothing. You were met with that silence that drove others crazy tryin to find out what he wanted from them. The bond seemed to snap taut, then go into a relaxed state. He was hiding. You knew it, but would rather have silence and peace than him trying to fight you again.  He walked you back to the tent, and exhaustion took you under before you could remember him laying down with you. You hoped it it was exhaustion, and not whatever the baby was doing to you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't resist the urge to cradle your belly while you slept. There was no bump, but it felt like the most natural thing to do now that you were aware of the being inside you. You slept hard, and awoke to the breakfast bell chiming. The sounds of slow footsteps marching through the mud kept you awake. Azriel was gone, but the candle on the table was lit. A note lay there waiting for you. His messy scrawl made you smile, the familiarity of his writing reminded you of the notes he would leave you when he had to leave early for meetings with Rhys. "Back by nightfall, lover. A guard is at the tent, ask her to bring you anything you need. -A" You peeked outside the tent to see Jeva there, her long fur coat shimmering in the morning light. Her breath clouded in front of her when she gave you a soft smile. "Good morning." She pulled a muffin from her coat. "Your favorite." She winked, and you pulled her inside. She had a fire roaring by the time you finished your food. "How are you not freezing?" She complained, blowing into her hands to keep them warm. You brushed the crumbs from your shirt and really took into account the changes you'd noticed lately. How hungry you'd been, how tired after the easiest days.  "Do you know... How um..." You gestured to your stomach. She gave a small smile and nodded. "Only a month or so." She said quietly. You stared at your stomach, as if waiting for something to answer you. To give some sort of affirmation that Jeva was right. She continued warming herself by the fire, and soon the tent was filled with her warm chestnut smell. Cassian entered the tent when you were starting to doze off again. The wool blanket on your lap reminded you of a time when you first met Az. Your heart squeezed at the memory of those long nights shared together by a fire. Taking your turns on watch duty. You shook yourself from the memory. Cassian froze. His face scrunched up at the sight of you. The scent, you realised. You swore to yourself, and Jeva only nodded when he looked to her. "Youre pregnant?" He asked breathlessly, and you could smell the fear and excitement coming from him. In fact, you could smell the smoked meat on his breath. And the cold air that clung to him from outside. It was refreshing, like a cool drink on a hot day amid the dry heat inside the tent. "I'm sorry, I shouldnt have.." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to remain focused.  "Its okay, Cass. What's going on? Az left me this note." You handed it to him. His lips moved as he read it. He went white as bone. Your stomach dropped.  + Azriel had gone in the night to take out the entire eastern flank with a small group of Illyrians. You felt your world skittering away as Cassian told you. Your vision went blurry, and tears fell, dripping on your hands that clenched the wool blanket.  "He's on his way here now. He had to answer to Rhys first."  Cassian waited for you to say anything. But your lips just couldnt form the words. The hurt, anger... the betrayal you felt for him going to battle without you. And defying a direct order from his high lord like a fool. "I suggest you leave before Azriel comes back. It may get messy." Jeva spoke for you, and you were grateful. You gave Cassian a nod of thanks before he turned and left. The cold wind that blew in from the door gave you goosebumps.  "Take it easy, you dont want to be too stressed." Jeva handed you a mug of tea and gave you a small squeeze. You could smell Azriel before he entered. Jeva shot him a glare, but said nothing. "I'll be in my tent if you need me." She promised, gave you a look that said 'find me after' and left. Azriel took off his armor plates one by one. A bit too slowly to be considered normal. Stalling. You said nothing. You let the tension roil out of you, let it hit him down the bond. Like a wave getting ready to break. He rolled his shoulders, stretched his wings.  The mask he wore cracked when he saw your fists balled in the blanket. "I couldnt risk you... or the babe." He tried to hide the fear that shone through. The fear of his mate or child being hurt in battle. He wouldnt be able to stand it. The fight was needed, anyway. He needed to get out his instincts to protect protect protect.  You said nothing. You let that looming wave grow larger. He sighed, and sat at the end of the cot beside you. "I'm sorry. I needed....I needed to get my head straight. I should have told you. I'm sorry." That wave crashed, not on him though. Internally, guilt and fear melting in on yourself. "I cant lose you, we... We cant." You said through your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that begged to spill over. He tried his best to hold back his surprise. "We?" He asked, a small smile playing on his full lips.  You gave him a grim smile. "If you're...ready to be a father. I like imagining you, with my child."  "Our child." He said with a bubbling laugh. You laughed with him, and it turned to hysterics.  He wiped tears from the corner of your eyes. "We're going to have a baby?" He cradled your face, looking into your eyes. You took one of his hands, and placed it on your flat belly. "Yes. We are." You said, voice quivering.  He wrapped you into a hug, and you cried together in the cot. 
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yesimwriting · 3 years
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Dying Starlight
A/n: i dont think an audience for this exists?? ik it’s not shadow and bone related, but ive been reading red queen and i wanted to try writing maven and ive been playing with this idea. umm...on the off-chance that there is an audience for this i do think of this as more of a series but i’ll probably end up deleting this lol 
(Series?) Summary: reader is a childhood friend of Mare’s who isn’t officially part of the Scarlet Guard but gets captured by Maven. As a prisoner, she feels like her mind is being messed with as she begins to see a more human side of Maven. The new King tells himself the only thing he sees in her is that she’s a way to get to Mare, but something about her genuiness is infectious. 
-- 
Irony twists things. Right now, the irony that my last thoughts might be about how I wish I had been trusted with a suicide pill twist my impending doom into something almost comical. I’d laugh, but I’d rather not startle the rats in my cell. This has been their home for presumably years, but I’ve only been down here a few hours. 
I scratch the back of my wrist, staring at tired stone walls like they’ve done something to me. I wish I knew what time it was. How long have I been down here? How long has it been since I was separated from Mare? An hour? Three?Each passing minute strikes me like a bullet, but I can’t count them. I’ve never had a talent for accurately feeling the passage of time.
My head aches, frustration and dread tangling themselves in the pit of my stomach. Mare told me the Queen can search through someone’s mind, seeing memories even they can’t remember. What will they do when they see I know virtually nothing? What will happen when they see how close Mare and I truly are? i can’t do anything and the unknown hurts more than my bruised rib. 
The sound of the heavy door that divides the luxury of the castle from the wasteland of the cells creaks. I only let my arms flinch, moving from my side to wrap defensively around my stomach. Dull footsteps echo down the pathway that lead to the cell I’m in. I don’t cringe, not even when the sound of walking stops. 
I was not born into a rich family, but I was born into a proud one. Fear was practically a criminal act in my household. I’ve been trained to suppress all signs of weakness. My eyes don’t leave the stone wall, I mentally trace the pattern of a long crack in a specific rock. It reminds me of the slope of the Big Dipper. 
Will I ever see stars again? The answer leaves a sharp pain in my chest. 
“Mare told me about you.” 
The words jar me, my stomach dropping in revulsion. Mare had trusted him, and here he stands--successful because he’s a traitor. I know what it’s like to be the most overlooked sibling and to crave to change that. I know what it’s like to want to succeed more than you want air in your lungs, but I don’t think I’d ever betray someone. I like to think that there’s a line even the monster in me won’t cross. 
I don’t look at him, partially out of an attempt to protest and partially because I’m afraid of what I’ll see. “She might have mentioned you in passing.” 
His scoff is ridiculous. “She didn’t lie about your sense of humor.” 
That almost makes me wince. His words are too close, too personal. It’s like he knows me. I turn my. head, ready to cut through the uneasy beginning to get to the miserable middle if it brings me to the end faster. 
“You’re here to torment me, not make small talk.” Turning had been a mistake. I regret it instantly. His expression is unforgiving--cold, sharp, and made up of only angles. But that’s not why I stare. I did not expect him to be objectively attractive. The fine slope of his nose, the sharpness of his cheekbones, and the ice blue of his eyes. I need to snap out of this mindset. I’m sure his beauty will not be so distracting when he’s burning me. “Though some might consider that the same thing.” 
He scoffs again, the sound dry. The sneer of his lips does not diminish his attractiveness. The fact makes me loathe him. “I wonder if you’ll still be so prone to humor after you’ve been broken--any information of worth extracted from your thoughts.” 
“Let me save everyone the trouble and just tell you everything that I know now.” My back straightens despite the pain in my ribs. I look pathetic, dirty and in a torn dress. He’s regal, dressed in fine, all black clothing. “I know that Mare wanted to kill you today, I know that she needed a distraction and that her distraction needed to be expendable, which is why I’m sitting in front of you.” I squeeze my hands together awkwardly, a bit of genuine irritation rolling in my stomach. “That’s literally all I know, I’m not even part of the Guard.” I scratch the back of my wrist. If I were him, I wouldn’t believe that, but I’m being honest. How pitiful can one person be that they’re worth more disconnected from the group they work for than as an actual member? “You don’t take that kind of risk for someone that’s only skill set is in thought.” 
I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but I don’t regret it. Maybe he’ll think that my story is so pathetic it has to be true. “You have to know more than that.” 
“The Scarlet Guard only reaches out to me on a need-to-know basis, and anything worthwhile to you is something I clearly didn’t need to know.” In a way, I’m glad I can’t give him anything. “So are you going to kill me with a bullet or do you prefer more flamboyant executions?” My death should be plain. I am human completely--I bleed red and I have no powers. “I do think anything more than a simple death is more trouble than I’m worth.” 
His lips press together oddly, something beneath his expression tightening. “You don’t think your dearest friend will return for you?”
The sarcasm in his voice sparks something in me I thought only my sister could. “I think she has a lot of responsibilities and I wouldn’t blame her for having priorities.” 
His eyebrows draw together. “I think you’re painfully unaware of how attached to you she is.” I press my lips into a thin line. “She’ll come for you.”
Something selfish in me hopes that he’s right. No one has ever wanted me enough to come back for me. My mother wanted perfect daughters that knew how to only think in terms of trapping men with stable careers. My sister did it, but I could never manage, and to my mother that made me useless. 
“If you believe it,” I mumble beneath my breath.
I don’t know if he hears me. I can’t bring myself to care if he did. “For your sake, you better not have lied to me.” 
My back relaxes against the raspy wall, fighting down a grimace as the motion irritates my rib injury. “Cross my heart, Your Highness.” 
I watch him carefully, his expression turning into something much more grim. “A King is referred to as His Majesty.” 
“My father was a prominent war general and my mother only wanted daughters she could use to social climb.” I fight down a grin. “I know what I said.” 
His expression darkens into something bone chilling. “I am the King and you’ll refer to me as such or deal with even less pleasant circumstances.” 
I fight against the urge to cower, picturing Mare’s strength in my veins. There’s weakness in everyone, and if I squint I can see the thin cracks in him. “You have everything--the crown, the power, the support of the people, and it’s still not enough. You won and you still feel like you’re competing.” 
“You don’t know anything,” he seethes, practically growling. 
I shouldn’t press him, but the more he reacts, the more weaknesses are revealed. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling that’s the sun, and no matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, you’re always trapped in a shadow.” 
The lighting makes his eyes look almost glazed over. “My mother will be here soon and the truth will be revealed.” 
He can run from me, but not the truth. Cal has nothing, he has everything--the father that never cared for him is dead, and yet he’s still trapped. Our similarities hurt me more than my physical injuries. 
Maven turns, his gaze moving off of me feels like the removal of heavy shackles. “It would do you well to not press me. You’re worth as much whole as you are broken.” 
There’s the strangest hint of something more to his voice. I wonder if he’s speaking to more than just me. “You haven’t won until that voice in your head telling you that you’re not enough is silenced.”
“You’re a powerless girl who isn’t even wanted by a dying cause and couldn’t find a husband to drag her above the poverty line. You know nothing about me, and if you keep pretending I’ll slaughter you in front of your dear friend.” 
He leaves without another word. I fall asleep with my back against the wall and my ribs aching. 
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outerbankies · 3 years
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LITTLE BLURB YES PLS!
only since you said please!
(disclaimer: this takes place during part 5 but in this version they went to topper’s, not griffin’s after midsummers. don't put too much stock into any of this—esp john b's appearance at the end—it's not important for the plot at the end of part 5, promise. just a scene i liked before i kinda changed the direction of the end of the part and had to delete stuff + rework some logistics.)
new light blurb: afterglow — rafe cameron
warnings: drinking, swearing, mentions of sex (minors dni)
“Times’it?” Rafe asks from his spot on your chest, his morning voice cracking from misuse and sending vibrations through your entire torso. “Hm?” You mumble, blindly running a hand through his hair. Your sleep-addled mind could still make out that your boyfriend smelled like chlorine.
“Time?” he reiterates.
You hum noncommittally, cracking just one eye open to search for your phone in the sheets. You can’t resist scratching a hand across his abs as you do, giggling when the muscles jump at your touch. You finally find your phone under your hip, only to discover a black screen when you try to power it on. “It’s dead.” “What would you do without me?” he chides, rolling over out of your hold to check his phone on the night stand, stopping his army crawl up the bed to give you a peck as he goes. He pulls his phone off of his charger. “Damn.” “What time is it?” You plaster yourself to his back, burrowing your face into the back of his warm neck and placing a kiss there. “Nearly noon, party girl,” he coos, plugging your phone in for you when you hand it to him and turning back over. You fall onto his chest, humming when he runs a hand through your hair. “We have to meet my sister and her boyfriend in an hour.” “Tell them to pick us up,” you whine. “And bring us coffee.” “Top said he had coffee delivered earlier. It’s in the kitchen,” he says, scrolling through the missed notifications on his phone. You hold your hand out for it, opening his Snapchat camera to check your appearance once he gives it to you. You gasp. “Oh god, I slept with my makeup on,” you groan, seeing your mascara had gathered in smears and bits under your eyes. You send a snapchat to Topper, typing out ‘please tell me you have makeup wipes.’ Rafe snatches his phone back out of your hand, saving the photo to his camera roll before he sends it for you, laughing maniacally as you whine. “I look like a panda.” “Mm,” he murmurs, setting his phone back down on the nightstand and snuggling down into the covers, arms circling in a vice grip around your waist. He assesses you one more time before letting his eyes shut again, pressing a long kiss to your forehead then resting his cheek against it. “Or maybe a raccoon. A cute one though.” “Nice save.” “I try,” he murmurs, cracking his eyes back open, looking down at you again, leaving it up to you to make that last move. You do, thumb on his chin angling him down at a good angle for you to kiss him. Rafe makes a pleased noise into your mouth, already shifting to lay on top of you, the arm that’s not holding his weight over you sliding under your back, fingers skimming underneath the back of your shirt—his shirt. There’s a knock on your door, a worse for wear looking Topper Thornton appearing in the doorway. “Hey, watch it bro,” Rafe admonishes, shifting off of you and making sure the duvet is covering you. “She’s not dressed.” “Chill, Rafe.” “Sorry, Y/n/n,” Topper says, but you just wave him off. He staggers into the room with a packet of makeup wipes, handing them off to you then promptly flopping down at the foot of the bed after you pat it, not unlike how you summon Wilbur. “I’d say I died and came back to life, but I think I just died.” “Me too, bud,” you sigh, started to scrape as much makeup as you can off your face. “Top, these are bougie.” “Did Blythe leave them here?” Rafe teases. Topper wouldn’t stop talking about this girl from his school that came to visit him a few weeks ago, and Rafe kept ribbing him for it every chance he could. “They’re my mom’s,” Topper mumbles, face down in the bed. “Fuck you.” “Down bad. Where’s Kelce?” “Last I knew, passed out in the tub down the hall.” Rafe laughs, pulling you closer to him, still making sure the covers are up to your waist. He pulls your shirt closer together where the buttons were undone. “Topper, close your eyes. I’m getting out of bed.” “I don’t think I could open them if I wanted to.” “She told you to close them,” Rafe says, kicking him from under the covers. “Ugh, you two make me sick,” he mutters, still moving to cover his eyes with his hand. “There.” “Thanks bestie,” you say, hopping out of bed to throw away your used makeup wipe. You hear a crash from down the hall as you settle back into bed. “Is that Kelce?” Rafe asks. “Kelce is dead,” a voice says from the doorway. Kelce is wearing sunglasses, his pink suit jacket from
Midsummers still on, but not much else underneath. “I am a new person. One that is never drinking again.” “Wait,” Topper says, resting up on his forearms suddenly, looking down at the covers under him, then to Rafe, shirtless, and you, wearing his dress shirt. Your dress, probably still damp from the night before, hangs over the shower rod in the en suite. “Please don’t tell me you guys had sex in my guest bed.” You blush, immediately denying it. “No, of course—” “Might wanna tip your maids extra,” Rafe cuts you off, laughing when you hide under the covers. He stops when you kick him in the shin. Topper fake wretches, making Kelce actually wretch before he runs down the hall. —
You’re whining about the bruise Rafe left on your hip, which your yellow bikini bottom strap so conveniently dug into, when John B steers the Druthers up to Topper’s dock. Rafe hops on first, helping you after him, tugging your t-shirt—which was actually his undershirt from last night—down further for you, even though it’s already brushing the tops of your thighs. He can’t resist the urge to press on the bruise with his thumb, grinning when you suck in air through your teeth. “You’ll be fine. Don’t act like you didn’t like it.” You push him away from your ear, trying to suppress a shiver. You can’t even remember if it was from his hand or his mouth. “Sarah!” you greet, leaving Rafe to follow behind you. It isn’t long before he’s smacking John B’s hands away from the steer, taking his rightful spot. He looks silly wearing one of Topper’s shirts, stretched a bit too tightly around his bigger build, the hemline falling a bit too high on his stomach. You’d offered to wear it instead so he could have his own shirt back; he didn’t take kindly to it, huffing and forcing Topper’s shirt over his shoulders. You even think you heard a seem rip. “Hey, Y/n,” Sarah says, hugging you and offering you a White Claw. You politely decline and she giggles. “Rough night?” You just shake your head, settling into Rafe’s side where he’s driving the boat. John B keeps trying to touch things and Rafe smacks his hands away, every single time. “Be nice, Rafe.” “Ooh,” John B says in delight, and Rafe just shakes his head. “Am I making you look bad in front of your girl, Cameron?” You open your mouth to say something, comment on how their relationship had evolved since high school. But Rafe’s admittance of his insecurities last night was still fresh in your mind, and you didn’t want to stir anything back up. You just lean further into his side, squeezing him around the waist. “Watch it, Routledge,” he says, smacking John B in the back of his head. “I’m still your girlfriend’s big brother.”
tags: @moniamaybank @downbytheouterbanks @littlementalpolaroids @fangirlvoice @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @amourtentiaa @loveylangdon @oopsiedoopsie23
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Text
Day 124: Joke
"Draco?" Harry asked as he twisted his fingers in Draco's hair.
He hummed, feeling too content and comfortable to use any actual words or even lift his head from where it was resting over Harry's heart. Lightly he trailed his fingers over Harry's rib cage in response.
"Do you think-" he broke off and Draco felt him swallow, "I want to tell my friends about us."
He froze for a moment, unable to quite believe his ears.
"Or not," he said hurriedly, "If you're not-"
Draco sat up and pressed his lips to Harry's because he knew it was the fastest way to get him to stop talking. And because he couldn't quite believe that he would ever be someone that the other man would want to tell the world about, he'd never imagined Harry would be proud to be with him.
Harry sighed into the kiss, wrapping Draco tighter in his arms.
When Draco pulled back he said, "Do you mean it?"
The corner of Harry's mouth tipped up and he nodded, "If it's okay with you." He brushed his fingers over Draco's cheek, "I really like you," he confessed, "and it just keeps getting harder and harder not to tell my friends how happy you make me."
Draco swallowed past the lump in his throat, "Really?" he whispered.
Harry nodded, tucking a strand of Draco's hair behind his ear. "Would you come with me? Maybe we could go out to dinner with them?"
"Yeah," he said, "Yes, if you want me to."
"I'd like that," Harry replied.
"Can we tell my friends, too?"
The smile that Harry gave him made him a little breathless, "If you want to."
"I'll owl them tomorrow."
Harry kissed him again and if they didn't get much more talking and planning done for a while after that who could blame them? They had far better things to do.
(Read more below the cut)
As fate would have it, they went out to brunch with Pansy, Blaise, and Greg first. They met at a muggle restaurant that wasn't far from Harry's apartment and when they arrived, Draco's friends were quite taken off guard by Harry's presence.
Harry held the door for them and Draco stepped through, Pansy following close behind and hissing, "What the bloody hell is Potter doing here?"
"Relax," he said, hooking her arm through his and following the hostess to a table.
After they ordered drinks Draco cleared his throat, "There's something I wanted to tell all of you," he started and Harry draped his arm over the back of the chair behind him, brushing his thumb over Draco's tricep in a silent show of support. "Harry and I are dating," he said, glancing over at Harry and giving him a little smile.
"I'm sorry?" Pansy asked and Draco glanced over at his friends' shocked faces.
"We've been seeing each other for a few months," he said.
"And we're serious about each other," Harry added.
Draco nodded, "So we thought it was time to start telling our friends."
Pansy blinked at him and Blaise was still staring with his jaw dropped but Greg just nodded, "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Harry said with a smile at Greg.
Greg looked between the two of them, gave a nod, then opened his menu, "So what's good here?" he asked and Harry started to list off some of the dishes they'd enjoyed when they'd come on lazy Saturday mornings.
He glanced across the table to find Pansy still staring with an inscrutable look and Draco felt a tingle of apprehension at the base of his spine.
Everything was fine while they ordered and ate their breakfasts, it wasn't until Harry got up to use the loo that Pansy started to speak frankly.
"Draco, you're not serious," she hissed.
"About?"
"You dating Harry Potter! This is an elaborate joke, even for you, how on earth did you manage to convince him to go along with it?"
He shook his head, "I'm completely serious. We ran into each other at work, started talking and realized how much we enjoyed doing that. Then we started fucking and realized how much we enjoyed doing that too. And it just makes sense," he said with a little shrug. "We spend all of our free time together and I can't even remember the last time I slept in my own flat-"
"Draco, be reasonable," Blaise said. "He can't possibly," he broke off as though he didn't want to finish that sentence.
"He can't possibly what?" Draco asked, putting years of practice making his voice sound cold as ice to good use.
"Darling, it's just that you're you," she said, "And he's Harry bloody Potter."
"The press is going to destroy you," Blaise added. "Imagine those headlines."
Pansy shook her head, "And not only that but don't you think that Potter is going to end up with someone that the wizarding world will approve of? A wife who'll give him three kids, a home, the whole nine yards."
"I think it's nice," Greg said. "He looks happy, you look happy. What more is there?"
"Thanks, Greg," he replied with a nod.
"Oh sure, trust the person who's been single all his life to give you dating advice," Pansy said, rolling her eyes. "By all standards, he's too good for you and everyone knows it."
Blaise cleared his throat then, "What do you all think of ordering a few of those delicious looking cinnamon buns to share?" he asked.
"Sounds good to me," Harry replied as he slid back into his seat and bumped his knee against Draco's. "The only real question is if you want the iced ones or the honey ones," he said, turning to look at Draco, "What do you think, love?" he asked.
Draco looked at him and something cracked in his heart, Pansy and Blaise were right. Harry Potter was a dream and it couldn't last. He swallowed, "Let's do the iced one."
He supposed a little while longer before he talked some sense into Harry wouldn't hurt too much.
----------
Harry was in a great mood when they got back to his flat. "Well," he said as he toed his shoes off at the door, "That went well, didn't it?" he asked.
He didn't reply, he just stared at the other man and wondered how to tell him that they were never going to be able to work.
"Tea?" Harry asked, oblivious to Draco's inner turmoil as he headed into the kitchen without waiting for a response.
"You should break up with me," he blurted.
Whatever Harry had been holding shattered as it hit the floor. "Shite," he murmured. "Reparo." Then he returned to where Draco was still standing, a few feet away from the door. "I'm sorry?" he asked.
Draco couldn't quite meet his eye, "You should break up with me now," he said, "Before either of us can get more invested."
"Draco, what-?"
He shook his head and a tear slipped out, "You're too good for me, Harry, and when the press catches wind of this-"
"Stop it," Harry said, clasped Draco's shoulders, "What on earth has gotten into you?"
"Even my friends, the people who have loved me through some pretty dark places, say it's true!" he exclaimed, "Even my friends think you're too good for me, that I'm being delusional."
Harry took his hands in his and it was only then that Draco realized he was trembling. "Hey," he murmured, leaning in so their foreheads were touching. "Your friends are arseholes. I am not too good for you. Draco, I can't even match my socks properly."
And it was such a ridiculous thing to say that a startled laugh burst from his mouth.
Harry tilted his head up to kiss his nose. "Look, they won't be the last people who spout of complete nonsense about us. I'm sure that comes with the territory," he added. "But it doesn't change who you are."
"An ex-death eater," he said. "A school bully, a complete-"
"That's not who you are," Harry said, leaning back so he could see Draco more clearly. "It might have been a part of who you were but it's not who you are." He pressed a kiss to Draco's cheek, "You are brilliant," he said, "and you are gorgeous, and you're kind. And you've got a wicked sense of humor. You're passionate and you work hard."
"I've had to."
Harry nodded, "You're not the boy you were when we were in school just as I'm not the boy that I was when we were in school."
"But people will always remember-"
"What they think or remember doesn't matter," he said. "Because I know who you are and I don't give a rat's arse about what they think."
"I don't know, Harry," he said softly. "My past-"
"Do you think I'm the person they paint me to be?" he asked.
Draco shook his head, "Of course not but the wizarding world isn't going to accept this."
"I love you," he said simply. "And you, as you are, are more than enough."
"It's not going to be easy," Draco said softly.
The other man kissed him softly, "You're probably right," he said. "But I'm all in, if you are."
He pulled Harry into a tight hug and Harry hugged him back, "I'm in," he whispered.
"Then that's all we need," Harry said with a nod.
And Harry was right their friends came around but they found that they could weather the storms. There wasn't any trial or challenge they couldn't overcome when they were both willing to fight for the other.
-------------
Day 123: Feather | Day 125: Accidental Bonding (Part 1)
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oneshotnewbie · 3 years
Note
Your works are insanely good wow! Could I please request anoter one where the reader is Amelia’s little sister and Arizona’s gf and the three of them get into a car accident where the reader is off worse (she’s in the backseat and stuck and Amelia keeps holding her hand and stroking her head and Arizona is hysterical) Amelia and Arizona try to keep the person they love the most alive but are scared out of their mind.
An exhausting day was successfully behind you and you have never been as overtired as you were in all the years of your studies and five years of internship as a surgeon.
A bus accident where the bus overturned and injured thirty people, including almost half of them young children, was on your agenda today. A lot of them had only minor wounds and injuries that needed care and their parents had to be informed, but some had harder injuries and had to undergo emergency surgery. One of them was a 14-year old girl who not only had internal bleeding and a ruptured spleen and liver, a collapsed lung due to a fractured rib and a severe cerebral hemorrhage.
She was your patient and you could no longer save this young soul, it was too late.
You usually had no problem to stay away from emotions, but telling her parents that her only daughter passed away, broke your heart and left you in a negative emotional state. If you could, you would swap places with her just so she could still enjoy her young years into her old.
No one so young and innocent deserved to die that cruel way.
You sat in the car with your sister and your girlfriend, looked out the window in the back seat and were so lost in thought that you didn't pay attention to them both.
Only when the car came to a standstill and a hand found it's place on your knee and squeezed, it tore you out of your thoughts. You looked into the blue, also tired eyes, which were colored in a dark purple by the red traffic lights.
A small smile crossed her face. You gently placed your hand on hers, which was still on your knees, and intervened your fingers with hers as you focused on the music that was playing from the radio.
The radio was all trash and some penniless musician screamed his heart out, presumably to get the attention of some teenage girls. Annoyed by his voice and the nonsense you could her in the lyrics he sang, you asked Amelia if she could turn off the radio.
When the music went out, you sighed briefly and went over your curly hair. At the same time, you played with the delicate ring on your finger. An heirloom from your grandma. Heaven, how you missed her.
The red glowing car turned green and started moving. You saw Arizona's gaze turned to you in the rear view mirror before you could drift back into your thoughts until you heard a scream and a loud bang. The car you were in was hit by a Jeep and let you slip several meters on the street before it came to a stop on a tree.
---
"Y/N!" did you hear a dull voice that sounded like a tunnel as it mixed with the tinnitus in your ears. "Y/N, come on sweetie, wake up!" this time louder, more aggressive.
Slowly opening your eyes, you looked into the face of your brown-haired sister. Almost immediately when you noticed that she had a big laceration above her brow that was bleeding quite a bit, you snatched your eyes completely open and startled.
Pumped full of adrenaline, you weren't aware that you, in fact, were more injured than she was. You weren't even aware of what just had happened. You just knew that she was bleeding. "Amy, you are bleeding!" you stated out loud.
Your body's self-mechanism immediately caused your arms to wander towards her head. In the middle of your movement, you winced and screamed out loud. A bolt of lighting pervaded your shoulder and chest, you could tell with certainty that your collarbone was broken.
"Don't worry about me, I am fine." she said softly and briefly disappeared from your already restricted view by the smoke. "Arizona, she is awake. Calm down, please."
Until recently, you didn't even notice the screaming and crying that was silenced by the ringing in your ears. Only after you could concentrate on the outside world and your ears went back to normal, did you realize who the screaming was coming from.
"Arizona." your voice was barely audible and scratchy through the fumes. Your throat started to feel dry and sandy like scratch paper.
Her face appeared at your completely cracked window. She also had a few scratches on her face, a nosebleed and a split lip, probably from the airbag that came out of her steering wheel. She was visibly shocked and it was almost impossible to find out what she was talking about through all the sobs and incomplete sentences caused by the panic.
"We have to get her out here fast, Arizona so concentrate!" shouted Amelia and reappeared in front of you, this time she was sitting in the passenger seat and tried as slowly as possible and not causing you any pain, to crawl on the free space next to you.
As the car moved as she tried to get to you, shock waves ran from your neck all the way down to your lower back. You closed your eyes in pain and immediately felt a cool wind blowing in your face.
"Try to keep your body still. It was a pretty heavy impact and you were hit the most."
Arizona was still crying hysterical by your side as she put her jacket over her hand and tried to knock out the rest of the glass in the window to get to you better and safer.
Soon enough, you felt cold fingers on your neck that slowly and carefully placed it on the back of the seat and held it while your sister checked you from top to bottom which injuries you had.
Slowly the pain moved further into the distance, the headache was now also filled with dizziness and you felt nauseous. As time passed, you became more tired and you felt too weak to speak. Your throat felt like it was filling with something.
Blood.
"Arizona, how long until the ambulance and the fire department are coming? She's bleeding internally." Amelia stopped in her movements and looked you in the eyes. A thin line of blood already formed on your lip and it stained your teeth with it. "You are gonna be fine, little one okay? Just stay awake."
You nodded and began to cough, your lungs filling up more with the red liquid and constricting your breath. "I can't feel my legs."
You looked shockingly into the face of the brown-haired one. Meanwhile she had tears in her eyes that she tried to hold back, but failed. You were aware of what it could mean and that you might have been paraplegic from the impact, but you tried to hold on to any hope that you just didn't feel it because the blood supply was cut off by the entrapment.
Amelia took your hand tightly in her and gently stroked your hair. All she could do was be with you while you all waited for help.
You got colder, the goose bumps on your body and the inevitable tremors made you even more pain that you tried not to show. The endless screams and bitter tears from your girlfriend  snaked further into the distance, as in the beginning. She had her hand alternately on your cheek or neck as she wiped away some tears from you.
"I love you Arizona."
"No, take that back immediately! If you say it when something bad happens, you never hear it from that person again." she yelled at you.
But you knew how you felt. Weak, cold, barely breathing in a situation you probably couldn't get out of alive. You had to at least tell her one more time before you couldn't anymore. She had to know that you loved her to your very last breath.
"I love you Arizona."
She laid her head on her arm, which was propped up in the window pane, and buried herself while still caressing your pale skin.
"Amy," with one big, last breath you tried to keep it short, but saying the most important thing. "Best sister in the entire world. I love you too."
"No, you are not leaving us now. You are not leaving me, do you understand? You have so many years to spend here with me at your side. If you do this to me now, I will revive you and then kill you by myself!"
You laughed at her joke one last time before your eyes closed and you endowed into the distance with a smile.
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uncpanda · 3 years
Text
Gone: Part 3
AN: Still looking at five parts hopefully! 
Warnings: Alludes to sex. 
Part 1, Part 2
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You pack in a hurry, as Jo watches you. She’s in the middle of your bed, right where you can see her, and she is safe. You have to keep telling yourself this. She hasn’t asked any questions yet, but you know she has them stored up. She’s probably trying to figure things out on her own first. She’s so much like Bruce it makes your heart hurt sometimes. 
“Are we coming back. . . eventually?” 
You’re honest, “I don’t know.” 
“But someone’s after us?” 
You shove the suitcase closed, “Yes.” 
“We’re going to dad, aren’t we?” 
You suck in a breath, “Probably. I’m not a hundred percent sure. Alfred has a plan. He always has a plan. I’m just. . . not sure what it is.” 
You haul the suitcase off the bed and down the hall, with Jo right on your heels. It contains everything important, plus a few pairs of clothes. You steer your daughter down the hall. She gets more than one bag; one for clothes and necessities, and one for the stuffed animals that can NOT be left behind, a blanket she’s had since she was a baby, and a few of her favorite pictures . . . including the one picture of Bruce you had brought with you.
You jump a bit when the knock on the door comes, and you put Jo in a hiding place until you’re sure it’s just Alfred. You peer through the peep and sag with relief before throwing the door open and wrapping the man in a hug. He looks older now, a few more wrinkles lining his face. You choose to blame Bruce for those. 
“It is very good to see you Mrs. Wayne.” 
You squeeze him one more time, “You too Alfred.” 
“And where is Miss. Josephine?” 
“Jo, baby, come on out.” 
Ever fearless, she pops out of the closet with a smile on her face, and immediately sticks out her hand and introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Jo. It’s nice to meet you.” 
“A pleasure to meet you Ms. Jo.” he shakes her hand and then looks at you, “I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for pleasantries. You have pictures of the flowers, and you have the actual card?” You nod. “Then we need to go. Now.” 
The drive and (private) plane ride are all too short for your liking. Jo, on the other hand, bounces in her seat the entire way. The sight of Gotham makes you nauseous, and by the time you’re in front of the mansion, you feel like turning tail and running.
You breathe out the question, “Does he know?” 
“No. He arrived home from an assignment about an hour after I left. I left a note saying I had to go help a friend. I thought it would be better this way. If you’d like I could. . .” 
“No. . . I’ll go.” 
“Very well, I’ll get Ms. Jo settled in, and perhaps a cookie or two. I imagine he’s in the blue room. He moved out of the master bedroom the day after you did.” 
There’s not an ounce of fear on Jo’s face. She had talked Alfred’s ear off the entire journey, and Alfred had been more than a little in awe with her. 
The first step into the mansion sends chills down your spine. You break off from Alfred and Jo at the top of the stairs. You pause by what used to be your room and then continue down. The blue room had been named by you and Bruce after reading about rooms at the white house being named for colors. 
You knock once, and his voice comes a second later, “It’s open Alfred.” 
The sound of it sends a jolt of fear through your spine before you steel yourself and grip the knob, and turn. You step in, and close is silently behind you, as he pulls on a tshirt, “Before you ask, we’re all fine Alfred. A few bumps and bruises, but I’m the worst off. I might have a cracked rib, nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” 
“I’ll say. You had your first cracked rib back in high school, when you went against Liam Blake and his friends for touching my ass.” 
There’s a sharp intake of breath before he turns to face you, his face is one of shock and a little bit of awe, “Y/N?” 
“Hi Bruce.” There’s a second of silence and then you’re rambling, “I’m sorry. I know you probably never expected to see me again, especially after I took off like that, and I wouldn’t have come back, I know you have a different life now, but I’m in trouble, and so is Jo and . . .” 
You don’t get another word out before his lips are on yours, and his arms have you caged against his body. It’s as natural as breathing the way your arms wrap around his shoulders and your lips move against his.
When he pulls back, his hands move to cup your face, and his thumbs brush away the tears you didn’t realize were falling. You bring your hands back to grip his wrists, for a second you think about removing his hands, but you decide against it. His hands are warm and you’ve been cold for a long time. There’s a small smile on his face, and you take a deep breath, “You always did know how to make me shut up.” 
“I’ve never, once, wanted you to shut up. Talk all you want, as long as you’re home I don’t care.” 
“Bruce . . .” 
“Where have you been Y/N? I came back from patrol and you were gone? What about the baby? I just . . .” He pulls you in for another bruising kiss. 
You close your eyes, and then tug at his hands. He releases your face only to lace your fingers together, “It was too much Bruce. That fight . . .that everything. I felt . . .very alone, and I didn’t see it changing. . . so I chose myself and I chose our baby.” 
Part of you expects him to yell instead there’s a sadness to his face, and when he moves to pull away you don’t let him. “What happened Bruce? I expected anger. I expected indifference. I didn’t expect. . .” 
“Love? I never stopped loving you Y/N, and something tells me you never stopped loving me. At least that’s what the kiss said.”
“Always the detective.” 
“We’re soulmates. I don’t even believe in that shit, and I know that. No one else would have done. I searched for you, for over a year. Checked hospitals for my name on a birth certificate. Nothing. I always suspected that Alfred. . .” He pulls away and this time you let him go. 
He moves to the bed, and you follow him, and settle down next to him, “No comment.” 
He lets out a chuff, “At the very least I knew you were safe, that the baby was safe.” He rubs at his jaw as his mouth opens and closes several times. 
You answer the unasked question, “She’s a girl. Her name is Josephine, everyone calls her Jo.” 
A smile plays on his lips, “From Little Women. Our mothers took turns reading that to us.” 
“I thought you would appreciate it.” 
“And she . . .?” 
“Is so much like you, some days it hurt. She’s brilliant, she’s skipped two grades, and she barely needs any sleep. She loves to draw, and she’s really good at it.” 
He takes your hand again, “She sounds perfect.” 
“I agree, but I’m biased.” 
“Probably good I wasn’t around then . . . I would have screwed her up.” 
You glare at him, and he takes it, “This isn’t self doubt Y/N, it isn’t like when you left. I’ve. . . adopted kids.” 
You freeze, “What?” You hadn’t kept up with Bruce’s life, it had been too painful, and you had missed him so much. 
“Three kids. Dick . . .I went to the circus a few months after you left. . .” 
You remember, “You bought the tickets for a date, we kept them on the fridge.” 
He smiles, “Dick and his parents were the trapeze act. A local mob boss wanted Mr. Grayson to launder money for the mob, he said no, and Dick’s parents paid the price. Died right in front of him. He had no one else. I took him in, and trained him. He’s eighteen now, wants to be a cop, and lives in Bludhaven. We’re still on good terms, but he needed to branch out on his own. ” 
“Which you’re against.” 
He shrugs, “Next came Jason. Found him in an ally taking the wheels off the batmobile. I trained him too. Joker killed him. I got him killed, a magic pit brought him back. . . . he’s struggling. And Tim who is thirteen, is new. He figured it all out, and came to me demanding to be robin. I’m giving him a shot.” 
“You let children fight crime?” The sentence is laden with judgement. 
“Yep. Like I said, I would have just screwed our kid up.” 
You smack his chest lightly, “No you wouldn’t have. I would have stepped in. I would have laid down ground rules.” 
“Because I always followed your rules?” 
“Only when you actually wanted to be able to touch me.” You stand up, and you turn to study him. His nose is slightly crooked, you imagine due to a break at some point, you can see bruises covering him, and you can see the self loathing. You stop yourself before you can place blame on your shoulders.
It’s easy to say you could have stopped this, that you could have talked sense into him about letting the kids fight crime. But you don’t know it for a fact. You had both been so young, and while you had always known what the other was thinking you had both been bad about communicating your needs in the relationship. But you were ten years older now, thirty two instead of twenty two. And while you had no more relationship experience now than you did then, you were better at expressing your wants. 
“I want you to meet her Bruce.”
His head snaps up, “What?” 
“Jo. I want you to meet her. She’s downstairs, with Alfred. She knows about you, worships the ground you walk on in a way.” 
“So you didn’t tell her the truth?” 
“I told her that you weren’t ready to be a dad. That we were both young and scared. So, I went away, because we both loved her, and you didn’t want to do anything halfway. She’s smart enough to have figured everything out, but . . .” 
You shrug, and reach up to run your fingers through your hair.
“You still wear your ring.” 
You bite your lip, “Yeah. I just . . . couldn’t take it off.” 
He smiles, before bringing his fingers to a delicate chain around his neck, when he pulls it out of his shirt, his wedding ring and your engagement ring dangle from it. “I couldn’t wear it without raising questions, and I didn’t want the wrong people finding you when I couldn’t protect you, but we were still married. I couldn’t . . .” 
You shift from side to side, “Are you telling me you haven’t . . .?” 
He looks away, “I’ve been on dates but I’ve never brought anyone home or gone home with anyone. Never had any desire to. They weren’t you. I think Alfred paid them off to start spreading rumors that I did though. It got me a playboy reputation, a good cover.  If you did, though, I'd understand. . .” 
“I didn’t.” your thumb rubs against the gold band, “We’re still . . .” 
“Yeah.” 
You last six seconds before you jump him. He catches you with ease, and you decide kissing him is one of the best things in the world, and as the clothes start coming off, you can’t help but think, this is not what you had expected. Anger? Yes. Yelling? Yes. Love and tenderness? No. 
When he rolls off the top of you, you’re out of breath, but he wraps around you like a koala and presses a kiss into your shoulder, “Please don’t leave again.” 
The request is whispered right by your ear, and it breaks your heart, because you know you’re the only one who gets to see him like this. You wonder how long it’s been since he’s been able to be vulnerable with someone. 
You turn your head and kiss him, but don’t make any promises. Instead you ask, “Would you like to meet your daughter?” 
213 notes · View notes
marauders-venting · 3 years
Text
Worth The Wait
pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)
genre: fluff & angst
warnings: mentions of being sick and throwing up
words: 2502
a/n: this is a request I got from someone on Instagram and I absolutely love it!
“Evans, are you sure you’re okay?” Sirius asked, glancing over at her. Lily was sitting in the corner of the common room, bent over the table, her head resting on her arm. She had been looking peaky all day, which Sirius might not have noticed if James hadn’t pointed it out to him. 32 times to be exact.
“Do you think she’s sick, Pads? Should I ask her? Nah, she’ll get mad at me. But if she really is sick she should be in the hospital wing. But what if I ask her and she’s actually fine and she thinks I’m insulting her or something?” James had finally asked her if she was alright at dinner when she hadn’t eaten anything.
“I’m fine,” she had said. Except she hadn’t snapped at him. In fact, she smiled a little. James had practically glowed. “Just a little nauseous.” But it was an hour later and Lily still looked ill.
“I’m fine,” she repeated, this time to Sirius. “I’ll be fine.” She lifted her head, looking back at her half-finished essay.
“Lils, you’re pale as fuck,” Marlene said. “You’re sick.”
“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she said. Less than ten minutes later, Lily had rushed to the bathroom and thrown up.
“Okay,” she said when she came up. “Maybe not so fine. I think I have a stomach bug or something, I’ve been nauseous all day.”
“Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital wing,” Mary said.
“Wait,” she said. “Remus and I have prefect rounds.”
“Don’t be stupid, I’ll cover for you,” Remus said. “You do it for me all the time.”
“Thanks, Rem.”
“Of course. Feel better, Lils.” She and Mary headed for the portrait hole. Sirius glanced at James, who was biting his nail and not paying any attention to the textbook lying open in front of him. Sirius knew he wanted to go with Lily — he was worried about her — but he didn’t want to annoy her. Not when they’d been on such good terms for the past few months.
Barely five minutes had passed before Marlene said, “Well, there’s no point working on this shit without Lily.” She gestured to the essay.
“I could help you if you want,” Alice offered.
“Don’t worry yourself, Alice, she knows,” Dorcas replied before Marlene could say anything. “She could do it herself if she wanted to. She just doesn’t want to do it and that’s her excuse.”
“Shhh stop exposing me,” Marlene said, flopping dramatically onto Dorcas’ lap. “I’m too tired to write essays now.”
“Well, are you gonna go to sleep any time soon?” Dorcas asked, raking their fingers gently through Marlene’s hair. Marlene took Dorcas’ other hand and kissed it.
“Only if you can’t think of anything better for us to do,” she said.
“Oh baby, I can think of several things we can do,” Dorcas said, smirking.
“Oh?” Marlene said, sitting up. “Such as?”
“Well, I’ll give you a hint,” Dorcas said. “They all involve a bed, but not sleep.” Marlene grabbed Dorcas by the hand and pulled her towards the staircase leading to their dorm.
“I’d steer clear of your dorm if I were you, Alice,” Peter said, looking up from the textbook in his hand.
“Yeah,” Alice laughed, “I think I’ll go see Lily in the hospital wing. If Madam Pomfrey will let me in.” So she got up and walked out the portrait hole too.
Half an hour later, only Sirius, Remus, Peter and James, who had been surprisingly quiet this whole time, remained in the common room.
Sirius was sitting on a couch, his feet up on the table in front of him; he had given up on the essay long ago. He knew he would still get a decent grade though, even if he had barely put any effort into it.
Remus was sitting on the floor beside him, his essay spread across the table. Remus quickly scribbled the end of a sentence and flopped his head back onto the couch, groaning.
“It’s going to be so boring, walking around the castle alone,” he complained. “I mean, I guess I shouldn’t complain since Lily does it for me every month, at least once but still.”
“You don’t have to do it,” Sirius said. Remus slapped his leg, the one that was near his head.
“You know I do,” he replied.
“Fine then, I’ll come with you,” Sirius said.
“You can’t do that,” Remus said.
“Says who?” Sirius shrugged.
“Well, are you a prefect?”
“Do I look like I care?”
“Fair point,” Remus said. He looked like he was contemplating it. 
“So d’you want me to come with you or not?” Sirius asked. His heart was beating faster than it should be. So he’d be walking around the castle with Remus. So what? It certainly didn’t mean anything. Remus hesitated a second before replying.
“If we get caught, can I pin it all on you?” he asked, grinning at Sirius.
“Sure,” Sirius shrugged. “It’s not like they can give me more detentions without cutting into lesson time, can they?” Sirius stood up, cracking his knuckles nervously. He wanted to be alone with Remus but if James and Peter wanted to come… Well, he couldn’t tell them not to without it being weird. But Remus didn’t suggest it and neither one of them seemed eager to join.
“We won’t wait up,” James said, smirking at Sirius. James saw right through him. Sirius didn’t care, as long as he didn’t make it obvious to Remus. Like he was doing right now. Sirius pointed the finger at him from behind Remus’ back.
“Hold on, I need to put this essay upstairs,” Remus said. He ran up the stairs to the dormitory.
“I officially give up on this essay,” Peter said, slamming the textbook shut. “I don’t care, I’ll do it tomorrow. My brain isn’t functioning now. I need a shower and sleep.” He got up and started up the staircase after Remus. “‘Night,” he called.
“G’night, Pete,” James called back.
“‘Night, Wormy.” Once Peter was out of sight, Sirius rounded on James.
“James, I swear to god, if you keep making jokes, I will personally murder you,” Sirius said.
“Oh relax, would you? Nobody takes my jokes seriously except you. Although I guess that makes sense.” James laughed at his own pun.
“That was pathetic,” Sirius said, shaking his head. “Only I can pull those jokes off. It’s my name.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” James said. He hesitated for a moment before asking, “Do you think I should have gone with her?”
“Relax, Prongs, she’ll be fine,” Sirius said. “Mary and Alice are with her. Besides, I doubt Madam Pomfrey will let you in.”
“Yeah, I guess,” James said. “Do you think she’d be annoyed if I went to visit her in the morning?”
“I don’t know, James. She might not even stay overnight. Not for a stomach bug.”
“Yeah, probably not. I can’t do what you do and sit by my crush’s sickbed, staring wistfully at their beautiful face and wait for them to wake up so I can spend all day caring for them,” James said.
“What? I don’t do that,” Sirius said, going red.
“Of course, you do,” James said matter-of-factly. “Every month. It’s very sweet, by the way. Disgustingly sweet.” Sirius elbowed him in the ribs. “But really, are you just never going to tell him?” James added. But Sirius didn’t get a chance to reply because Remus came back downstairs and headed straight for the portrait hole.
“See you guys later,” he called.
“Moony, wait for me,” Sirius pouted, hurrying after him and trying not to think about what James had said.
“Don’t be so slow then,” Remus said as Sirius caught up to him at the end of the corridor.
“Slow? I’m the one who waited for you to put your essay in the dorm!” Sirius exclaimed.
“Shh, you can’t yell,” Remus said. “Especially since you’re technically not supposed to be here.”
“Fine, I won’t yell,” Sirius said. “So what are we supposed to do?”
“Literally nothing,” Remus said. “We walk around the school until we’ve covered enough ground that I can report back to McGonagall and say that there are no students out of bed and then we go back to the common room. It’s boring as fuck.”
“Well, I’m here to keep you entertained, Moony, so prepare for the best prefect rounds of your life,” Sirius said.
“Why does that concern me more than it comforts me?” Remus replied.
“Because you’re cynical and mean,” Sirius said.
---------
“I can’t believe you do this like four times a week,” Sirius said, as they headed to McGonagall’s office. “How haven’t you died of boredom yet?”
“You didn’t have to come, y’know,” Remus said. “Your complaining doesn’t make this any more enjoyable.”
“I’m not complaining, I’m making a point about how unfair this is for you,” Sirius said, as they reached the end of the corridor.
“Trust me, I know,” Remus said. “Now wait here while I tell McGonagall that I’m done. Don’t be loud.” It only took Remus about three minutes to get back but Sirius had already made himself comfortable on the floor. He hopped up when he saw Remus come back.
“Let’s sneak out,” he said immediately.
“What?”
“Let’s go out to the grounds, by the lake.”
“Sirius, we’ll get caught.”
“No, we won’t.”
“Yes, we will. We don’t have the Cloak.”
“So? We can be stealthy. And, worst case, we get caught. So what?”
“First of all, you suck at being stealthy, Sirius, and second of all, I’m a prefect. I’m supposed to be setting a good example. And it’s not really setting a good example if I get caught breaking the rules, is it?”
“Don’t be such a buzzkill, Moony. Pleeeeease. I promise we won’t get caught. There’s nobody awake to catch us, everyone will have gone to bed by now. And we can look at the stars. Come on, Moony, you love astronomy. Plus you won’t have an annoying professor asking dumb questions that nobody cares about. Pleeeeease?” Sirius pouted.
“Fine,” Remus said, grudgingly. “If we get caught, I’ll kill you.” But Sirius was right. Everybody must have been asleep because there wasn’t a single person in the corridors.
Remus and Sirius crossed the grounds and went over to the lake and sat down side by side. Remus lay down on the grass and stretched his arms above his head. Sirius flopped down beside him.
“Do you recognise any of these?” Remus asked.
“Some,” Sirius said. He pointed at the sky. “See that star right there? That’s the dog star, Sirius.”
“And this is the thousandth time you’ve told me,” Remus said, rolling his eyes.
“Well if there was a star named after you then you wouldn’t shut up about it either,” Sirius said. Remus rolls his eyes again. “And if you don’t stop rolling your eyes, they’ll get stuck.”
“Stop giving me reasons to roll my eyes then,” Remus says. Then after a moment, he adds, “is there a wolf star?”
“Uh-huh,” Sirius nodded.
“Where?”
“Right here,” Sirius said, poking Remus with his elbow.
“Shut up.” Remus rolled his eyes again.
“I’m complimenting you, Moony.” Remus didn’t reply. He sat up and stared at the lake. Sirius sat up as well. He thought of what James said earlier. He could technically never tell Remus about this. He could keep it a secret. He could grit his teeth and try to get over it. But the way Remus looked at him now as they lay under the stars… their eyes met and Sirius couldn’t explain it but something gave him a feeling that maybe he wasn’t the only one thinking about it. He could see a faint blush on Remus’ cheeks from when he’d called him a star. And he’s so close.
Sirius wasn’t quite sure what possessed him at that moment but he slowly inched closer to Remus. He leaned in and brushed his lips against Remus’ but Remus turned his head away from him, ending the kiss before it even started. Sirius moved back quickly. He didn’t want to invade Remus’ space, he didn't want to force himself on Remus.
“I’m sorry,” he said, so quietly he wasn’t sure Remus had heard him.
“Don’t be,” said Remus. He was looking at the floor. “I just…” He just what? Sirius waited. He wanted to help Remus along like he always did but didn’t know how. He was usually so good at understanding how to help Remus explain himself when words would fail him, how to prompt him without pushing him, but now… Sirius wished a hole in the ground would swallow him. He’d fucked up bad. Sirius didn’t want to pressure Remus so he stayed silent. But the silence was awkward and filled with tension.
“Maybe… maybe we should just…” started Remus, struggling to get out words, “maybe we should just stay… friends.” Sirius felt like someone had kicked him in the gut and knocked all the wind out of him. He bit his lip and it was all he could do to stop the tears rushing to his eyes, begging to spill onto his cheeks. He should have seen this coming. Why should Remus ever want to be with him? Just because he’s had feelings for Remus for the past few months, didn’t mean Remus returned those feelings. What was he thinking, trying to kiss Remus? He wished he hadn’t done it.
Sirius must have been delusional to believe that Remus might want him. Delusional or in love. Same difference, really, he thought. He couldn’t digest this. He felt sick. He turned away, afraid that he would vomit on Remus.
“If that’s what you want,” he said. His voice was feeble. It sounded empty and dead. He hoped Remus couldn’t hear how hurt Sirius felt. He didn’t want Remus to feel guilty. It wasn’t Remus’ fault that Sirius fucked everything up. It wasn’t Remus’ fault that Sirius had fallen in love. (Well, actually, one could argue that it’s entirely his fault, Sirius thought, I mean look at him! How am I supposed to not fall in love with him?) Sirius couldn’t look at Remus.
“Sirius, I—” Remus started. Sirius waited but Remus didn’t continue.
“I think I’ll go now,” Sirius said. He wasn’t whispering but his voice was very quiet. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.” He was, after all, breaking a school rule. And Remus was a prefect. He stood up without another word and Remus remained silent as Sirius started walking away. Sirius didn’t look back. He didn’t want to see Remus (his amber eyes that could go from tired to fiery in seconds; his soft, brown curls that he brushed away from his face with his hands; his small, sweet, addictive smile that came with a crinkle next to his eyes; his hands covered in scars; in other words, too fucking perfect for words), it would be too painful.
113 notes · View notes
imaginewarehouse · 3 years
Text
Marcus White x Jonah’sSister!Reader || Oneshot
Tumblr media
Plot: 
You find out that you are pregnant... with Marcus' miracle baby.
Warnings: Pregnancy, panic attack
🔆  🔆  🔆
Carefully, I pick out one of the pregnancy tests from the shelf. Then grab another... 2 more... and another. Just to be sure.
As I go up to the pharmacy desk, I thank god that Tate isn't working here anymore; I never would've gotten away with this. He would've snitched to Jonah or something, for his own sociopathic enjoyment. Instead, the new guy thankfully rings up and bags my items casually, not really caring what he flings into the white plastic bag- then hands it to me with a soulless customer service smile. If I had to describe it, I'd say its if the man had been working here for years before finally letting the job kill him on the inside- just in time for the wind to change and stick his face like that. Honestly, I never see the guy without this smile. Not even in the breakroom. Its unnerving.
Still, I take the bag and smile back even though I know he for sure doesn't really mean it and turn around so I can walk (The long way around the store, so I don't pass the doors to the warehouse) towards the employee bathrooms... but stop short, jolting into panic mode immediately. Freeze, freeze, freeze!
There's Isaac, standing as tall as a bear in my path behind the aisles, with a scanner in his hand and a surprised look on his face. Or at least as surprised as he would ever convey.
Clearly, though, he saw the tests. And I'm screwed. He is absolutely the well, second last person I wanted to catch me doing this; Buying these.
A nervous smile flickers onto my face and I walk the short ways over to him, hugging the bag to my front. He's still just staring; Mouth half open and eyes a little less dead, then usual. "Oh, hey Isaac! How's is going? You got sent to pharmacy today? That s-sucks... " Honestly I didn't think he was allowed to be assigned pharmacy...
Completely by-passing the option to forget what he just saw and exchange polite chit-chat with me, he instead closes his mouth and his eyes, shakes his head and then opens his eyes again. Then inhales. "Are those what I think those are?"
"Wh-what?"
"Pregnancy tes-"
Shit- Giving him a desperate expression, revealing my true feelings today - being complete and utter panic, - I cut him off. "SHHH! Isaac! No- uh. Yes. Um... Would you believe these aren't for me?"
"Mmm... " His face twists slightly into one of thought, tightening his lips together and sizing me up. "No, I don't think so."
"Well!- " I'm totally ready to make up an excuse... but peter out as soon I try. I could do it. I could string together some kind of half-believable bullshit like 'They're for Amy', but he would still go and tell Marcus and he would find me and... I would still have to have the conversation earlier then I want to. So instead I drop the façade, and my shoulders, and show just how tired I am. "I want to find out myself before breaking the news to Marcus. Okay? He might be unhappy about the idea and then we do the test and it turns out I'm not pregnant and then I just stressed us both out, for no reason! And, on the other hand, what if he wants it and it turns out I'm wrong about this? Please, Isaac, just don't tell him yet. Please, please." I feel like no matter how many pleases I use they may still not change anything. But I'm desperate.
He stands still for a few minutes... so long in fact I think he may be in shock himself, or having some kind of drug induced anxiety attack, and am about to wave my hand up in his face or say his name again, when he finally breathes a little more obviously and I relax back down to earth. "... Well, lets go find out then, right?"
"What- You- you want to come?" Something in me relaxes at the thought- I don't really want to do this alone. I want someone there, like in the movies, to hold the box and just read me the instructions. But I imagined it would be someone I'm actually close friends with, who can hold my hand and wouldn't care that it recently touched a pee-stick. I did not expect that person to be Isaac - Isaac, who likes to watch homeless people kill each other with shopping trollies and sticks and trash can shields like in a horrible, pitiful, modern-day coliseum, - in a million years.
But he nods.
"Yeah, sure." He puts his scanner on the shelf, and we set off the way I was going. He seems to silently understand why we have to go the long way around- to avoid passing the doors to the warehouse. Or he just doesn't care. Either way, I'm thankful he doesn't try to re-rout my course. Or even mention it. "Good excuse to slack off work... besides I should probably get out of this section, anyway. Hey, it is Marcus- right?"
I sigh- I suppose the companionable silence was too much to ask for. "Yes Isaac. If its a thing, in the first place."
"Yeah, right."
___TIME SKIP___
"You're having a miracle baby, you know? He's not supposed to be able to do that- isn't that kinda... good?"
I only whimper in response from |my new home| the cubicle I've been taking the tests in, holding my head. How am I going to do this? I have college, I have this job, I have my studio apartment to continue paying rent for! Marcus and I don't even... there isn't even... we haven't labelled it yet, and... Oh god, I'm shaking.
Isaac heaves a sigh outside, his chair creaking as he shifts. "Well, that's... three positives, so far." Isaac's memorable, slow drawl seeps through the cracks in my cubicle and takes away my thoughts for a moment. And my breath.
3 positives.
3 positives.
Not one, not two... three.
... Then he goes on, a whiny tone in his voice. "Do we really need to do another one?"
I breathe in deep. I don't know what else to do. The next logical step would be telling Marcus or Jonah, but I'm ready for neither of those. So procrastination through pregnancy test, it has to be. "Uh, yes. We do. Um... can you, please?- "
"Ughhh. Yeah, yeah. I'll get you more water. Stay here." Then Isaac, who has surprisingly been very helpful, even getting me tape so I can stick the finished tests up to the door in front of me so that I can compare them easier, disappears out of the women's bathroom, leaving me with my thoughts.
I peak back up at the tests, feeling panic fill up my chest cavity like its anxiety gas and my rib cage is the gas chamber- and my heart's the poor organ at deaths row. I'm... pregnant.
Oh my god. I'm pregnant. There is a human being growing inside me, right now. A human being who will require time that I definitely don't have, money that its parents certainly could not scavenge if we scavenged for used soda cans like Myrtle and sold them in our spare time, effort that I'm terrified might not even be in me at this point... A baby that needs some semblance of a comfortable, stable home, which I do not have for it.
I'm just burrowing my face into my arms and knees atop the toilet seat when the bathroom door opens again. Looking up, I immediately ask for Isaac- because that was really freaken quick, for him.
And get a familiar, confused sounding voice call back "... No, its Amy... Sorry, I just need to pee. Are you going to be long?".
"Oh!" Oops. Immediately, head going empty with panic, I unlock the door and and jump out to let her in. "No! I just finished. Um- go ahead. I'll just wash- wash my hands."
Now seeing each other, I see Amy's forehead crease and her eyebrows furrow in confusion and concern at my pink cheeked/pale faced appearance and the panicky way I'm talking. She reaches out toward me. "... Y/N, are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine!" I laugh, the most nervous sounding laugh ever. "Don't worry."
Amy's nose screws up. "... why were you waiting for Isaac?"
"We-we're just having an affair."
... what??
Her eyebrows furrow even deeper. "Okay... I'm just gonna go... pee... now... " She says slowly, gradually disappearing into the cubicle; Not quite sure what to say back to that.
I sigh in relief when her eyes aren't on me anymore and the door locks, thinking flushing some water onto my face might calm me down, when a loud GASP comes from Amy and I i m m e d i a t e l y remember the tests stuck to the wall. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!!
Amy comes right out of there, looking at me with completely new eyes now- understanding truly why I'm pale, I'm sure, and definitely why I was acting the way I was. "Y/N! You're... pregnant??!" I open my mouth to respond. Maybe say 'yes' seeing as that's the truth and the only proper answer, but I choke on my words and instead say, "Isaacs getting more water so I can take another test."
"I think 3 is a pretty conclusive number!"
"I-" She is not wrong, but I don't want to do anything else but take another easy test, and get defensive instead. "I bought four, I'm doing four!"
"Wh- Is Isaac the father!?"
"God, no." Isaac and I both spit back in offense.
I whip my head around when i realise he wasn't supposed to be there yet at all, and- there he is in the doorway.
... Jonah right behind him looking sicker then me. My jaw drops. "You brought Jonah??!"
"Uh, no, I was just waiting outside for, um," He gestures to Amy and my stomach drops. So he heard the whole thing. Could this get any worse??! Well I mean of course it could, Marcus could be here. Stupid question. Don't ask questions like that; It always summons the worst, in movies. "You're pregnant!? Who- you know what, unimportant right now. Do you wanna sit down??"
I shake my head, taking a deep breath and holding my hand out to Isaac. "No, I'm fine. I have a test to do. Water, Isaac?"
"Here." He hands me the bottle, and I go to disappear back into the cubicle before jumping back away again, remembering that Amy still needs to go and gesturing for her to go, ridiculously enough. She shakes her head and gestures back, like I'm crazy, to take it instead.
I do so and lock myself in, starting to chug the whole bottle.
A blessed silent moment passes... before Jonah speaks. "Is the 4th test really necessary?- "
"For the love of god- Let me take the fourth goddamn test for fucks sake!"
___TIME SKIP___
"... so what is it?" Amy asks 10 minutes later, breaking the deafening silence, as I sit back down on the toilet seat and hold my face in my hands again.
"... Positive... "
Isaac sighs. "Who would have guessed, really?"
No one tells him to shut up. He's right. But also no one agrees, because I'm a fucking 23 year old pregnant girl and I will kill them.
"So... what now?" Amy asks, speaking to the room, but expecting me to answer.
"Well, I'd like less people to be here, honestly." I pipe up, removing my hands from my mouth to speak clearer.
"Done. Isaac, Jonah, get out."
"What? I was here before you... lady." Isaac exclaims, offended, but a moment later I hear the door close, anyway. I assume it had something to do with Amy's signature resting bitch face- cranked up to eleven. "We'll just wait out here, then! Yell if you need us."
"Yep... " Amy responds to him, sounding exhausted and I can totally imagine her rolling her eyes right now. She takes a deep breath, and sighs it out. I hear her rest carefully down into the chair Isaac vacated. For a moment she thankfully says nothing, and I do wonder whether I should... but I don't know what to so say. So I just stay hidden in the cubicle, silent until Amy takes another deep breath and asks the question. "Who is it?"
I take a deep breath, knowing that once I say it I cant take it back, while on the other hand... its done, anyway. He's already the father and I cant change that (Would I if I could, though?) but telling Amy may either make or break my confidence in having him as the dad of my kid. Not that I have a choice... I just know that Amy's going to be worried about it and I don't know if I can handle the criticism right this moment.
Finally I spit it out though. Marcus.
...
"Oh- wow."
Uncomfortable, I shift on the closed toilet seat. "Yeah."
Her voice gets higher, clearly fake and trying to sound like this is better then she really feels it is. My heart plummets into my stomach like a terrible roller coaster. "Well, that's... " She pauses, searching for a safe word to use, assumedly. "Great!"
"... 'great?" For some reason that word, and Amy's tone... hits something wrong, in me. Panic flickers deep in my chest and my stare on the wall gets colder, harder. "... you think this is 'great'? Really? You? No, you don't. Do you hear yourself? 'Great'. Puh! This is Marcus. 'Been to jail' Marcus. 'Ex Con' Marcus. 'Creator and CEO of BOOB CHEESE', Marcus. Marcus who shits in the shower and thinks breastfeeding is akin to whipping your dick out in public, Marcus who has a tattoo of his mother on his back for Valentines day- "
Okay so maybe I'm just picking on him because I'm inadequate, because I don't have the time for a baby, because if I'm trusted with this perfect thing then I will ruin it... I'll pick work, instead of love, and they'll grow up with less of it then they should have and I'll be to blame...
But I don't want to address that yet. I cant.
"Y/N."
"Neither of us even have the money for this." I'm panicking again. "He lives with his mother! And- what if he gets mad... " I suddenly get worried, my eyes go round and I cover my mouth. "I really like him Amy. I cant have him mad at me. Not for this. Not him. Please don't let him hate m- "
"Y/N! Calm the fuck down, okay, right now. Don't speak. Just... take some deep breathes okay? First of all, Marcus is not going to be 'mad' at you. He's sure as hell is not going to hate you. You're spiralling, just take some long breaths." Amy makes it sound like a ridiculous idea with her tone, that he might be mad or he might hate me. I do as she says as she talks; take deeeeeep breaths. Slowly, I start to clam down. "He might be shocked, yeah, but he's- he's not like that. He's an idiot, not a total asshole. Take it from me, I know what I'm talking about here. I promise you. Whether he'll be good at being a parent, is... debatable." Everything she says makes sense. And she would know- you've met Adam. "But he'll be there, at the very least.
And... and you'll be a great mum, anyway."
I feel my heartbeat start to slow down again as I breath. I close my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest and rest back against the wall, carefully.
I really hope she's right on that second part.
"... thank you."
___OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM___
Jonah rubs his neck in nervousness at his sister in the bathroom dealing with something like this, pacing around the small hallway area before turning to Isaac. He raises his dark eyebrows. "So, do you know... wh-who?? I mean... the guy, that- I mean, does he work here, or... ???"
"Its Marcus." Isaac pulls out a bag of trail mix from his vest pocket and starts picking through, standing by the bathroom calmly. The brother to whom he just broke such detrimental news - that his sister, has Marcus White of BOOB CHEESEs baby inside her, - widens his eyes until they're more like dinner plates. "Yeah, they've been talking for a while, man. You didn't know?"
"I- I just thought she wasn't interested in... guys... " All her time must be busy with balancing both school and work, plus her friends... how can she possible have had time to... But on the other hand, he realises that its a bit naïve to think that his younger sister still isn't interested in 'boys'. Part of it might have been wishful thinking.
Isaac barks out a laugh. Its a stale, dry sound that makes Jonah really uncomfortable. "She also went out with Tate. Had a bit of a thing for Sayid for a while, too... "
"What!?- "
"Jonah!" At Amy's exit from the bathroom, he calms down immediately and straightens up. She raises her brows at him. She nods into the bathroom. "She wants you."
Yep- it takes him about 2 seconds to fly into the bathroom... to find his sister still hidden in the cubicle. He sighs, pressing his hand against the door. "Y/N? Amy said you wanted me. Do you want me to get you something to eat? Its just, I'm the only one who knows your snack preferences... and maybe we shouldn't eat in here, cuz its kinda gross... but if you want to, that's cool too!"
She doesn't respond for a minute, silent apart from the careful peeling of tape from the cubicle door.
Then the peeling sounds stop. A moment later her voice, sounding small and tentative as if just saying this would open Pandora's box, slips out. "... how're mum and dad gonna react?"
Its a rhetorical question. They both know it'll be bad - and they'll like Marcus even less, - , but its said so he knows what she's worried about. He sighs and leans back on the door. "Well very, very badly. But that doesn't matter right now. I'll take care of them."
"How valiant." Her voice is still small, quiet. But she sounds less scared; She always believes her big brother. Even when she knows logically that he cant protect her from them. Not their parents.
"Well, I try."
"... hm."
___TIME SKIP, BACK OUTSIDE OF THE BATHROOM___
"She is not leaving that bathroom," Isaac shakes his head. Its been an hour, and they've all been in there with her a couple times but she has not left the cubicle. Not even peaked her head out. She hasn't even e a t e n anything while she's been in there. Its starting to worry them. "Maybe we should go get Marcus."
Immediately Jonah looks up from his phone - having been reading up on pregnancy. What is going to start happening to his sister, now?? - and shakes his head, firmly. "No, she'll tell him when she feels comfortable with it. We aren't doing that."
"Yeah, it isn't up to us." Amy agrees, while still looking like on a deep, unsympathetic level that is tired of standing here... she definitely wants to drag Marcus here. But she also knows that Jonah is, unfortunately, a n n o y i n g l y, right.
Isaac heaves a deep, frustrated huff and gets comfortable on the floor.
___TIME SKIP: 3 HOURS LATER___
Finally, Jonah breathes in a deep, exhausted breath and puts his phone away. That's enough of that. He's sufficiently disgusted. He looks down the hallway, out to the store. Then to Amy playing solitaire on her phone and Isaac drawing slowly on the ground. "... Well, I mean, it's Marcus's baby too, right? He should know... right?"
"Mhm,"
"Yep, that's right."
"And... besides, Y/N might need him, right? Maybe he could get her out."
"You make some good points."
"I just wish they weren't points we already mentioned." Amy looks up from her phone and turns it off, flashing an sarcastic, displeased kind of smile. "Earlier."
"Yeah well... " He rolls his shoulders, looking away from Amy's piercing gaze- god, her face is like a loaded gun with no safety. And he's totally into it. He coughs, then whispers. "So, who wants to go get him??"
"Not it."
"I would, but ah... nah. I'm down for the count, down here."
"So... me."
Amy nods, making a 'shoo'-ing gesture with her hand. "Yep, you, Jiminy Cricket. You made us stay here for hours- you go get Marcus."
Looking to Isaac for help, Jonah is just met with the deadest eye's he has ever come upon, so he eventually sighs deeply, wiping sweaty hands on his jeans. "Fff-fine. Wait here."
___IN THE WAREHOUSE___
"Uh, hello? Hi- have you seen Marcus anywhere? Wh- No? Well if you see him can you tell him I'm looking for him? Its about Y/N."
The warehouse worker with the nametag reading 'Nigel' that Jonah's never spoken to before in his life and who prior to his words, had the new deadest eyes that Jonah has ever seen, suddenly beams- a twinkle of evil mischief in his eyes. "Oooooh, cats outta the bag, huh?"
Jonah blinks. "What?"
"You found out about Marcus and your sister, and now you're gonna beat him up? I was waiting for this moment." Nigel clarifies, actively looking around the room for Marcus now as Jonah rushes to explain that no, that is not what he's here for. Please don't say that so loudly- "HEY RICO! You seen Marcus around?? Y/N's brother's here to deliver an ass beating." Half a second passes while Jonah's ears ring from Nigel's screeching before something new apparently occurs to the warehouse worker as his eyes widen and he turns again to who must be Rico. "And you owe me 20 bucks!! Told ya he'd come!"
How often is Y/N in this place? Just seems weird, these guy's saying her name so casually... Jonah's forehead crinkles in thought as Rico rolls his eyes and groans, walking off to assumedly find Marcus. I'm learning a lot about my sister, today... Not sure how I feel about it...
Jesus Christ, has she eaten the cheese, too??!
Jonah doesn't get a moment to panic about that particular bit of nightmare material before he realises Nigel is still standing, awkwardly now, arms straight at his sides and eyebrows raised expectantly, right by him. Watching him, instead of returning to his job. Jonah raises his own eyebrows back; Shrugging. Like, what?? What do you want?
Nigel just just shrugs and shakes his head back passive aggressively, crossing his arms. Like, he doesn't know. Fine, we'll just stand in silence, then...
"Jonah! What's up, buddy? Visiting me in the warehouse- this is so nice! Want me to take my break now, cuz we totally can. Just let me wrap one last thing up and then we'll be back in my car, together. Listening to tunes; Ya know. Guy buddy stuff." T h a n k f u l l y, Marcus seems to rush from wherever he was in the depths of shelf-land when Rico apparently found him and cuts off the awkward stand off between the two men, dropping a hand on Jonah's shoulder and beaming. "What up, man?"
Quick to turn away from Nigel and get to what his mission really is at the moment, Jonah graciously ignores the touchy greeting... despite the awkwardness on his end and the fact that Nigel is still there, watching.  "Actually, I wanted to talk about, uh, Y/N."
Marcus' eyes immediately widen and his eyebrows raise, taking his hand off Jonah in favour of ringing his hands and stepping back nervously himself. "Oh, man... you found out, didn't you? Did she tell you? Cuz like, I know the bro code says its not cool to bone your friend's sister but- "
"Ah, ah, ah!" No, no, no, Jonah does not want to hear those words. No. "No, um. That's fine, whatever. Y/N's sexuality is her own. But- "
"Its a ruse, Marcus. He's here to kick your ass." Nigel insists, still very much there despite everything about this situation having nothing to do with him and instead just freaks Marcus out more as the warehouse head's eyes go even wider and he takes another step back- raising his hands in surrender.
"No, no! Nigel!- That's... no. I'm not here to kick anyone's ass! The asses here are all perfectly safe, I promise. Okay?" When Nigel's expression doesn't change a lick, Jonah gives up and just gestures off in a random direction. "Nigel, could you give us a minute, here?"
"What, so you can jump my boy here alone?"
"Alone?? Who's alone?" Jonah is getting increasingly irritated. "We're literally surrounded by other warehouse workers!! Ones who are actually doing their jobs, by the way. Maybe you should- "
Marcus finally intercepts and pats Nigel's shoulder, getting his attention from looking confrontationally at Jonah and smiles relatively softly at him. "Its okay, Nigel. If Jonah wants to kick me in my junk once- he's kinda entitled to it. Bro code and everything. Why don't you get back to work? I got this. Thanks, though." Nigel leaves, with that, but certainly not without giving Jonah one last greasy look over his shoulder and an 'Okay, Marcus. But call me, if... you know... '. Along with an extra evil squinty look at Jonah. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks bud. I know I can count on you." When Nigel is finally out of the picture, Jonah feels fatigued and just wants to get back to Y/N. At least its just him and Marcus now, though, so they should be doing that very soon. "So! What'd you want? If you really do wanna hurt me, then, can we go outside? By my car ideally, so I can drive the emergency room right after? Or you, cuz I mean... you're small, man. And I'll have to defend myself. Even if its fair. Its instinct, you know? You get it."
"I'm not gonna hurt you?? Why does everyone think- " What is wrong with people here? Do I give off a confrontational aura right now, or something??? "Ugh, whatever. Y/N needs you- she's been in the bathroom for 4 hours. We did try to get her out ourselves, but our attempts have been... l-lacklustre." Lacklustre? Okay, even he is surprised to hear that one come out of him.
"She needs... me? Like, she said that?" All of a sudden Marcus' expression changes. Worry wells in his eyes and his forehead creases, and he glances at the door out to the floor before returning to Jonah, looking restless now as his body fights with him to go, immediately. "Oh, what's wrong with her? Is she sick??"
"Uhh... in a manner of speaking... Look, I just think she needs to see you right now."
That makes the taller man move towards the door, clipboard dropped on a box on his way. "Of course; Right away man. Come on, lets go see her. So you really don't know what's wrong?? Should we pick up some root beer on the way?" Jonah follows behind, hand on his chin as he answers Marcus' questions. Wow... He did not expect such a response from him... He... kinda respects it, in a way. Its a pleasant surprise, at least.
___BACK TO YOU AND YOUR POV. God I hate third person. Its so hard, I want to cry___
"Y/N? You in here??" As soon as that voice registers in my mind, my heart beat skips in the worst way and I almost start to full on panic all over again, but thankfully instead just freeze and only widen my eyes. What the hell? The door to the employee bathroom closes as Marcus shuts himself in and you watch his boots appear under the door to your stall. "What's going on? Jonah couldn't tell me what's wrong with you," Jonah. I glare at the stall door. I'm going to kill him. "But I brought you some root beer for you- a total cure all. I promise. And some (Enter your favourite snack) cuz I know you like them. Here," He stretches up and holds the items over the stall door, and, feeling genuinely touched that Marcus was sweet enough to bring these, I get up off the toilet seat and accept them from him.
"Thank you, that's really nice. I'm... not sure, that the root beer will fix this, though." I speak carefully, sitting down and holding the items in my lap close to my stomach.  
"Course it will! I poured some in Mateo's ear once when he had an infection... I think it worked?"
Probably not. "This is a lot bigger then an ear infection... Kinda permanent, too?"
"Oh god, is it cancer?" He pauses for a moment but before I can put that particular worry at rest... or remind him that cancer is not always permanent... he makes it worse, and I fight not to facepalm. "The plague??! Its still a thing, you know. Jesus, its not that is it? Please tell me its not that! That would be the worst!" I mean... yeah, it would.
"Oh- no no! No, nothing like that!! I'm just pregnant!"
... wait.
Immediately I want to take back my words and say them differently- because is that really the way I just broke it to him?? Oh my god. My hand slaps over my mouth- then pulls back an inch to speak again, but is definitely on guard to slap again and prohibit anymore stupid to come out. "I mean! ... N-no big deal?" My voice gets tiny. "At least its not the plague, right?" I'm just making this worse, so I cover my mouth again.
Marcus does not respond, and I can imagine his face crystal clear, without having to look. He would have his mouth hanging open like a cartoon character, his shoulders have dropped, eyes are blank, and he's pale as hell. Oh god... oh god oh go oh god... I cover my whole face now and just try to breath evenly, and not talk anymore. I was right! He's not going to even like me anymore, this is going to ruin how he looks at me- I cant have Marcus look at me coldly. I really cant.
Finally, a few minutes later the door to the bathroom creaks open again and I know it's not Marcus escaping because I can still see his boots under the door and they haven't shifted in a while. Amy's voice rings out, too loudly in the stock silent bathroom. "... everything okay in here? We haven't heard anything in a while- Marcus?"
He doesn't respond.
I hear Amy walk in now, her heels click-click-clicking on the tiled floor. "Marcus? Marcus, are you okay?" She snaps her fingers, assumedly near his unresponsive face. I slip my fingers down to just cover my mouth, straining my ears to hear any movement from him. "Wake up!" Another snap. "Marcus wake up."
All of a sudden I hear shifting and his boots shift slightly and I squeeze my eyes slowly shut- now he speaks. Now's the part where he speaks. Now's the worst part! He either leaves, or stays. "Uhh... I'm awake, okay?"
...
Amy and I are both startled by the seriousness in Marcus' voice- Amy evidently in the way she responds, backing out of the room. "... Okay! Um, well talk. To Y/N. I'm... just gonna... wait outside... "
Marcus just grunts in response, turning back to my stall door. Then he wraps his knuckles against the surface and I flinch- unsure whether to unlock it and be a grown up or stay hidden away like I really, really want to. Its not like I'm afraid he'll hurt me or anything, not at all! Its just... I don't like to disappoint people and I'm terrified at seeing his face. "Y/N? Can you come out, now?"
"Ummm... no... " I wince, keeping my eyes closed to the world. As if that'll hide me from it.
"No???" He asks, bewildered.
"No... "
Marcus' voice isn't at all as cold-serious as it was when he spoke to Amy, but still. There is still definitely an unfamiliar focused quality about it, and its making me nervous. "What? Come on. What do you think's gonna happen? I'll yell at you? Come on, that's not gonna happen; Come out. "
"I'd really rather stay in here... " I fire back.
"Don't be scared of me." He really does sound trustworthy... but that fear, man; She's one unrelenting bitch.
My voice goes high pitched when I answer, too vehement to be the truth. "I-I'm not! Silly! Why would I be scared of you??" My eyes open up again and I just wince. Such a liar.
"Aghh... " I just listen to him shifting around out there looking for something for a bit, or thinking of what to say next, while I myself sit and think comfortable that there is nothing that will make this worse, seeing as I'm safe and sound in this toilet stall... before his boots disappear from my vision under the door and I hear him disappear out of the bathroom then return again almost immediately, going into the stall beside me and putting something down on the toilet seat in there.
Oh my god- he wouldn't dare! He would not-
Then all of a sudden he's climbing over the wall and I have to jump off the toilet seat and press closely to the stall door, root beer and snack still hugged in my arms like teddy bears. Marcus eases himself over the wall and onto the toilet seat before my eyes, then jumps off it to the tiles again in front of me, while I gape wide at him. "I- what- Marcus!"
"Well you weren't coming out! It was my only option!" He exclaims, and now that I see him I do relax a bit. There's no coldness in his face now, and there is certainly no unfamiliar, unfriendly seriousness, either, seeing as the man just climbed into a toilet stall to get to me. Very Marcus-y. I slowly let out a relieved breath, which is still also a 'calm down' breath as the pressure is certainly still on. I can see him, but he can also see me.
Eager to avoid the issue at hand, I snap. "You might've kicked me!"
"No, I wouldn't have." He makes a defensive 'pshhh' sound immaturely, waving me off with a hand before resting them both on his hips and looking right at me. I give him my own dubious look right back- What makes him so sure??? He rolls his eyes. "Whatever, anyway." Suddenly, a beautiful big smile spreads across his face; the kind that still makes me a little bit weak and almost forces me to smile back. Even now, in this situation. "This is great."
And then I'm speechless, mouth closed and eyebrows furrowed together. ... Great? What? Quickly he moves to clarify, before grinning that goofy grin of his. "The pregnancy! Man, I've seen enough girlfriends get pregnant over the years... its nice to see one having my baby." A moment passes and my system is just registering this reaction - not even relieved, yet. Just in shock and a little less anxiety, - before he drops his smile, raises an eyebrow, and adds: "It is mine, right?"
Still shocked, I answer as if the question was more on the lines of 'That was my cupcake that I just ate, right?'. Meaning, probably too casually. "Oh- oh, yeah! Abs- absolutely." He doesn't seem to mind.
He beams again. "Great! We'll be awesome parents- that is assuming you wanna keep the baby, right?"
"Uh... " All I want to say is yes, right now. Even as the complications of raising a baby right now linger in the forefront of my mind. But at the same time I'm looking at Marcus and I just want to. I want to have the baby, and I want to do it with him... in the moment, he's the absolute perfect person to do it with. I choke out, "Yeah."
He fist pumps the air at that response, and finally the relief starts to settle in my stomach and my heart... a smile grows on my own face. My eyes even get a little watery with the powerful relief. "YES! That's right, I'm gonna be a Dad. Whoo! We gotta tell everyone. But how, do you think? Should we get a cake or something that says it in icing?? Or should we just go out there and announce it over the speakers? Or should we just not tell anyone? Cuz on the one hand, I wanna tell everyone- but on the other... I don't really want Carol to know you're pregnant. That could be bad."
"Um... " I don't even know what to say. I just want to hug him, so I do. I step forward and wrap my arms around his middle, burying my face in his coveralls and the body I've become so familiar with over the past months that smells so uniquely - and not always so pleasantly, but definitely comforting,  - like Marcus and squeeze tight, closing my eyes. He smells like that 'new furniture' smell that's really just 'warehouse', and an unfamiliar home, and a little bit of B.O.
Thank god.
Amy was right. Of course she was. Even when I was stressing, I knew the image I had of Marcus getting mad about this didn't feel quite right, but... you have to prepare yourself for the worst, you know? I'm just so glad he's the way he is though, as he wraps his arms around my shoulders in return and bends his neck to press his cheek to my head. "I'm really happy about this. And I know we haven't figure anything out. With us, with money, with anything actually, but... we will, okay? I'll do my best, I promise."
"... Thank fuck." I chuckle, although its muffled and get a similar sound from him in return. "I'm really happy, too." He rubs my back in that rough, comforting way that guys do and I might as well melt; He's too wonderful. I bite my bottom lip, thinking my next move through before taking a deep breath and deciding to take the plunge and ask. "... hey... um... b-boyfriend?"
Marcus immediately pulls me back and holds me at arms length, a crazy-big grin splitting his face. "Oh, yes! This day just keeps getting better and better; Come on, we definitely have to tell everyone this, lets go." Excitedly, he slips past me and unlocks the stall door finally, but pauses and turns back to me before its pushed open at all. I tilt my head in curiosity- what's up? "Unless... congrats sex?"
...
Oh my god- a snort, transforming into a laugh slips out of me before I can stop it. I pull him closer by the front of his coveralls, grinning at both the idea and how silly he is and gently tug him down closer to my level. I close my lips and knit my eyebrows together understandingly. "... How about you come over after work? First we should probably deal with the others? You know, the ones hanging outside right now?"
"Oh, yeah, probably. Oh man- I'll be basically related to Jonah now!" Oh- well- not exactly but... okay fine. If it makes the guy happy. "Ha ha, look forward to seeing this face every Christmas, bro." Oh boy.
I just grin at that - Goodluck Jonah, - before leaning up the rest of the way and pressing a careful kiss to Marcus' lips which he immediately returns with enthusiasm, hands abandoning the stall lock and collecting my waist instead.
This is going to be okay.
It will work out. I hope.
BONUS:
Later in the breakroom while Marcus is busy with talking to some of the other Cloud 9 employees about the news, Jonah takes the seat next to me and I raise my eyebrows at him- he's obviously dying to say something. I know my brother at least that much. He sighs.
"So... you... haven't eaten the cheese, right? I mean, I have but I'm hoping you haven't been put through such, uh, cruel and unusual torture... "
"Oh, no. Absolutely not. I managed to convince him it was cannibalism for women." I grin, returning immediately to my Cloud 9 Caesar salad as Jonah sighs long and hard in relief, relaxing back into his chair.
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thran-duils · 3 years
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Lost In Zero Gravity (P.3)
Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Three) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 2,574 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior
Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost
There were hands on you and you tried to push them away, frightened.
A man’s voice said quickly, “Sorry, sorry. I’m here to help. I’m gonna get you some help.”
“I… no, no ambulance,” you got out.
“You do not look good at all, love,” the man said, his hand cupping the back of your head to keep you steady as you tried to push yourself up off the ground. “You should stay down.”
You shook your head, “No… I live close.”
You stumbled getting to your feet, falling back against the wall. You groaned painfully, holding your head and slid back down the wall to sit back down on the ground. Your vision was swimming.
“You can’t walk on your own. I’m calling an ambulance.”
“I—”
“It’s okay,” the man said, and you heard him saying, “Yes, I’m on Newman Avenue—”
<><><>
Tony was calling again. He had called a couple days ago, texted yesterday, and you had not responded. You were too afraid to speak to him; you knew you would probably cry because you would have to explain why you could not meet up with him. It went to voicemail again and you sat there staring at your phone. You did not want to lose him permanently as a customer; you liked his attention. You were actually starting to develop feelings which was a big no-no but you could not pull yourself away.
It had only been a week since Jared had messed you up in the alley and your face did not look great. Your eyes were black from your broken nose and he had left quite a shiner on your cheek. Your ribs were still sore too from where he had kicked you, bruising them.
You crawled off your bed and walked to the door, throwing it open. You made your way downstairs, passing one of the other girls on the way down, who rubbed your arm affectionately. You gave her a small smile before continuing on to Tatiana’s office. You knocked on the door lightly, seeing her through the crack of the open door.
“Yes?” she said, looking up from her desk.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course, stellina,” Tatiana said, sitting up straight at her desk. Her eyes ran over your face and you saw her expression tighten. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit still.”
“I can imagine.”
You shifted and asked, “Can you do me a favor?”
“What is it?”
You held up your phone and said, “Tony called me a couple days ago… texted too. And he just called again. I… I don’t think I can talk to him about it. And I don’t want him to think I’m mad or anything or that I’m done with them. Could you call him and explain?”
Tatiana nodded immediately, “Of course. I have some time now.”
You grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and copied his number down for her. You pushed it across the desk, “Thank you.”
She held up her hand and said, “Wanna sit here while I do it? Just in case… something comes up.”
You hesitated but nodded and sunk into one of the chairs across from her desk.
“You know this is mutually beneficial for me to do this,” she told you. “If they like you as much as they seem to, maybe they will shower you still with gifts.”
“I’m not worried about that,” you cut in quickly.
“Regardless, having them keep up pay possibly in the meantime will help out. Not to be crass.”
You nodded, “I understand.”
Tatiana picked up her desk phone and dialed the number you had written down. “He might not answer,” she said as it began to ring. “Won’t recognize the number.” She sighed, hearing it go to voicemail. Briefly, she left, “Mr. Stark, please give me a call back at this number regarding my employee that you’ve been trying to reach. Thank you.”
She kept it vague. Smart.
When Tony called her back almost immediately, she smirked. “Looks like I was clear enough…”
“Hello, Mr. Stark,” Tatiana said, answering the phone, putting it on speaker. “This is Tatiana Bianchi.”
“Did I get blacklisted?” was the first thing out of his mouth.
Her face scrunched, “No, you didn’t.”
“Then why is Y/N not responding to me?”
“Y/N is not working.”
There was a pause. “Did she leave the service?”
“Kind of. She is taking a break.”
Tony’s voice was rougher this time, “So she’s on vacation? She could have at least told me that.” You flinched at that. “I’ve called a couple times and texted.”
“I don’t know how to put this lightly, but her ex found her,” Tatiana said. And added quickly, “Her asshole of an ex. He left his fucking mark. Broke her damn nose, bruised her ribs. Gave her a concussion. I think he would have done worse if some Good Samaritan hadn’t intervened before he could do anymore damage. Bastard stole her money too and her purse. The job she was working was close to here and he said he had been following her, so he knows where this place is. She doesn’t want to see anyone, understandably. I wouldn’t put her out there either right now. And in regards to her responding to you, she asked me to talk to you about it because she’s upset. Again, understandably.”
Tatiana was watching you across the desk as she spoke. You were chewing on your lip, listening to her explain it to him.
“I wanna see her,” Tony said tightly after a few moments.
“Mr. Stark—”
“I want to see how bad it is. Talk to her about it.”
Tatiana locked eyes with you and she asked, “Can I put you on hold?”
“Sure,” he said curtly.
She pressed the hold button and looked at you expectantly.
“I don’t want him to see me looking like a trainwreck.”
“Y/N,” Tatiana said in a quiet voice. “You know why he’s asking to talk to you.”
“Yeah, he feels bad and I get that—”
“No,” Tatiana cut in, shaking her head. “I think he wants to talk to you about it for a reason. A very specific reason. You know what he does, you know who he is. You really think he couldn’t handle that little dickhead?”
You shook your head, “I… I don’t think that’s what he means.”
She gave you a knowing smile, “Okay. So, maybe he does just want to come and give you flowers. Is there anything wrong with that?” You stared at her for a few moments, and she pressed, “He seems like he’s a pretty stubborn person. What’s to say he won’t just show up anyway? Why not do it on your own terms and permission?”
“Okay.”
Unmuting the call, Tatiana said, “Sorry about that. I needed to talk to her to see how she felt about it. She agreed.”
“I can come early in the morning. Like 5. Before it gets light.”
“I’m sure that would be fine.”
“Alright, I’ll be there. Thank you for the call,” Tony said.
“Goodbye,” Tatiana said to him before he hung up the phone.
“God, that’s so early,” you muttered, slumping back in the chair.
Tatiana quipped, “You better get a good night’s rest then so you’re up and ready.”
You pushed yourself out of the chair and said, “Easy for you to say. You’re essentially a vampire.” That caused her to smirk. You thanked her, “Thank you for doing that.”
She nodded, “Of course.”
<><><>
There was a loud knock on your bedroom door that drug you from your sleep. Your eyes snapped open, and you quickly realized you must have turned your alarm off completely when it went off. You swore under your breath, checking your phone. It was 5:07am. You got out of bed, rubbing at your eyes and walked over to your door.
When you opened it just a crack, you saw Tony and Steve standing there with a couple of their men standing behind them in the hall. You saw their jaws set seeing you, taking in your face. Even if it was just illuminated by the light coming in from the hall, you were sure the bruises were visible enough.
“Um, morning,” you stammered. “Sorry, I didn’t get up in time. I’m still in my pajamas…”
Tony rose his brows, “You wanna let us in?”
You swallowed sharply but opened the wider, stepping back to let the two of them file in. You turned from them and walked over to your bed, flipping on the lamp to give soft light in the room. Their men stayed in the hall and Steve closed the door behind him.
There was no way to hide now, and you turned back to them, playing with the hem of your t shirt, shooting an embarrassed look at them.
“Christ,” Steve muttered upon fully seeing you.
You eyed the large bouquet he was holding but before he could hold it out to you, Tony came up to you. He was staring down at your face and you could see the fury in his expression. He reached up, turning your face gently to get a better look at your cheek.
His jaw clicked before he asked, “He found you on the street, Tatiana said?”
“Yeah. He followed me, I guess. Has been following me it sounded like. I hadn’t seen him in a year and a half almost.” You gestured at your face, explaining honestly, “It’s not anything new. I didn’t leave him for no reason.”
“You wanna give me a name?” Tony deadpanned.
Your heart race increased. Tatiana had been right. “Not really,” you told him quietly.
“A name, Y/N” Tony repeated.
“I just won’t walk alone,” you tried to reason and side step it.
Steve snorted, shaking his head and your gaze was drawn to him. He shook his head again when he saw you looking. “No. That’s not how this is gonna work. This,” he gestured at your face. “is fucking unacceptable at best.”
“I don’t care to give you a name. Really. I appreciate—”
“Y/N,” Tony’s voice was firm as he cut you off.
You were pleading practically now, “I’m serious. I don’t care and I don’t want to deal with him.”
“I came here before dawn to figure out how I’m gonna kill this little prick. I would appreciate it if you would help me out, darling,” Tony told you tensely. “I don’t take lightly to men hitting women. Especially women I’m invested in. And you won’t be dealing with him. We will be you. You don’t have to be involved at all.”
Tatiana was right about him being stubborn, although you already knew that. He was not going to leave without the information that he wanted.
“Jared Easton. I don’t know where he lives now though.”
“Where did he live last you knew?” Steve asked.
“We lived in Chelsea. I don’t know if he’s still there.”
Tony took his phone out of his pocket and opened up his note app. He held the phone out to you and said, “You can put the address in here.” There was no room for a discussion, he was telling you to do it.
Grinding your teeth, you took the phone reluctantly. Your hands shook slightly as you typed in the address of the townhouse that the two of you had shared. When you handed the phone back to him, Tony’s demeanor relaxed. His hand came up to hold your neck, staring into your eyes.
“You don’t have to be afraid of him,” Tony told you softly. You nodded, tears pricking your eyes and you tried to hold them back desperately. Tony sighed, reaching up and wiping away one that escaped with his thumb. “We will see to that. We promise.”
He gave you a hug and your heart skipped a beat as he kissed the top of your head. This was a different kind of intimate than normal. You liked it, despite all the warnings to not get attached.
When he stepped back, he said, “There’s breakfast downstairs for you whenever you get hungry. I know a lot of people don’t like to eat super early. But Steve’s smart, thought it would be good to bring it. He remembered you liked that place in Williamsburg. I think he only remembered because you liked somewhere in Brooklyn.”
That caused you to give a little laugh which is what Tony had been aiming for you guessed.
Tony’s eyes ran over your face and he gave a small smile. “There. That’s better. I don’t like it when you look sad, baby.”
He stepped back and Steve stepped up, holding the flowers out to you. You took them and you thanked him. Steve leaned forward, giving you a kiss on the top of the head as well.
“When you’re feeling better, let us know,” Steve said as they made their way back to your bedroom door.
<><><>
After they left, you brought the flowers out to the dining table, putting them in the center.
Elisha appeared in the doorway and looked around. She was still in her pajamas but she did not look tired; like she had been up. That was odd because she loved sleeping in. But you got your answer soon enough.
“So, they did come.” You nodded. She smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, the knock woke me up and I waited up to talk to you about it. If you want to.”
“It’s fine.”
“They brought flowers?”
“And breakfast.”
“Aww,” Elisha said coming over closer and leaning in to smell the flowers. “That’s super sweet of them. So… did they do what Tatiana thought they were going to do?” You nodded and her eyes widened. “Did you give them anything?”
“They forced me to basically. They weren’t going to let it go.”
“Why are men so goddamn protective of whoever they’re bedding?”
You shrugged, “I hope nothing bad comes from it.”
“You should be happy.” Tatiana’s voice startled the two of you. She walked further into the room, and said seriously, “They’re doing you a favor. You should relish in that type of protection. Not many are afforded it. And don’t worry about them messing it up. They’re professionals, Y/N.”
“I just don’t want anyone dead because of me,” you said. “Even if it’s him.”
“Well, then let them do it for me. Because when I came into that ER room, I wanted to find the little bastard and gut him myself. So, better them than me getting my hands dirty. Assholes like him won’t stop with a restraining order or charges against them, so this is the best course of action.” She paused before forcing you to look at her directly. “Y/N though, my dear… just know what this means. This is big. A very, very big favor they’re doing. Sure, it is going to satisfy them but they are killing someone for you. That is not something to brush off. You need to show appreciation for it. Elisha is right. Men are very protective of whoever they are bedding and they also like to be praised for it too. Do you get that?” You swallowed sharply, giving a curt nod. “Good.”
She clapped her hands, her mood changing quickly. “Now, let’s get you some of that breakfast because I saw what it was and it looks delicious. It’ll cheer you up. Go, go!”
~~~
Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 
Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming, @oceaniamaddness, @multifandom-superlover
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dameronology · 3 years
Text
home {poe dameron x reader}
summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep
warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 
more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!
- jazz
p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 
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It had only been five days. 
You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 
The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 
 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 
‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 
‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’
‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’
‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’
‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’
‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’
‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’
‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 
‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’
‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 
You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 
A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-
- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 
His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.
‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’
‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   
‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’
‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 
You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 
‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’
‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’
He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 
‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’
‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 
‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’
‘I promise.’
Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 
You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.
‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 
‘You know I love you, right?’
‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’
Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’
‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’
‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’
‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’
‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’
‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’
‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’
‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 
Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 
On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.
‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’
‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’
It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 
You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 
‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’
‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’
'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’
‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 
You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 
Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 
‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 
‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 
‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’
‘I do.’
‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’
‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).
It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 
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