#he‘d look dead hot with one

[kami-ships-it]

Even though he (luckily!!) didn’t lose the eye, I think he probably had to wear an eyepatch for at least some time.

#bbc ghosts #lieutenant havers #major havers #peter sandys clarke #apparently Laurence Rickard wanted Havers to have an eyepatch #I’m a sucker for eyepatches #so I had to make it happen! #he‘d look dead hot with one #but of course I’m glad baby still has both his gorgeous eyes

[boxboysandotherwhump]

Jake guard dog AU part 3

Ah I love everyone who enjoys this lil guard dog AU about @ashintheairlikesnow wonderful Characters, whom I love with all my heart. <3 <3 <3

pssssst @orchidscript    look.

CW: past abuse and healing from injuries mentioned, tree injury

From all the things Antoni thought he would get to see after Mister Davis front door had fallen shut behind him forever, a man like a tree trunk sitting in a wheelchair and growling at a tree surely hadn‘t been one of them.

The rescues nose sniffs the kitchen air, wrinkling softly but nearly pressed against the backdoor window while light blue eyes remain trained on the tree in their back porch.

Or rather on Tristan hanging upside down on one of its branches.  He lifts one leg, stretches it out long, all his weight balancing in the crook of his other knee and giggles. The tree creaks, tormented old branches dipping under the energy of youth.

„Not safe.“ The new rescue- no Jack, that‘s the name he‘d picked, Antoni reminds himself- mutters under his breath. Grip tightening around the wheelchair‘s handrims. 

If he tried to roll out that door and crash down the three stone steps leading to the garden, the thing would surely break apart. Some lib folks had organized the beat up old chair and brought it over yesterday. It was slightly to small for Jack but held his weight well enough. And a bit of oil, Nat had dug out the cellar, had even taken care of the squeaking left wheel.

„Have trust in Tristan.“ Antoni begins, giving the simmering Solyanka a gentle stir. „I have never seen anyone with this much control over their own body.“

Pust' on nikogda ne poteryayet eto.

„I am sure he will be just fine.“

Jack grunts not leaving Tristan out of his sight for a second. Still, a bit of the tension nesting between his shoulder blades bleeds from his posture.

Antoni smiles, that private gentle curl of his lips kinda smile that only finds its way on his face when he is truly content, and he starts to set the table. Pulling five bowls from a cupboard. Taking spoons out a drawer.

„Still-“ Jack grumbles, voice low and cracking from disuse. „Not safe.“

Glasses find their way onto the table, carefully placed next to the bowls. Perfectly aligned with the spoons.

„Nothing worth doing is ever.“

The words leave Antoni‘s mouth a whispery exhale. A rustle through dead leaves. And Jack turns. The wheelchair creaks softly and blue eyes meet his. Settle heavy on his neck, where the circular testimonies of his failings peek out from under his shirt collar.

Antoni‘s skin crawls and he can‘t help but wonder, for a moment, for what sin‘s the man in the wheelchair had paid. With shattered bones and shredded skin. A face still so pale from exhaustion the only colors there are healing bruises, fading from blue to green to yellow. The ugliest dawn painted by the crudest of brushes.

Tris delighted laughter filters through the tilted windows and a busted lip curls into the tiniest of smiles. „Yeah.“

Something soft settles between them. A calm understanding about the other, existing beyond knowledge of life‘s long past. Or yesterdays sins.

CRACK!

Antoni nearly jumps out his own skin as a sound dry as breaking bones but thrice as loud bursts through the garden.

„Trischa!“

Antoni darts around the table as Jack barrels through the door. He is hot on his heels, heart hammering against his breast bone so violently it‘s a wonder he doesn‘t shatter.

Jack‘s wheels hit the stone steps with a few dull thuds, the old chair frame shrieking protest as the man puts all his strength in the pushes to propel him forward.

The wheelchair, held together by some invisible force, remains miraculously intact. Dried up grass crunches under its wheels that dig deep furrows into the earth under their pilots weight, until they finally come to a stop in the middle of the garden.

Tristan stands in front of a demolished tree, a giant branch ripped apart by the teenagers endless energy lays on the ground behind him, and grins up at them. Grass stains are smudged all over his jeans and shirt and his face glows so red, his freckles nearly disappear.

Leaves stick out from strawberry blond hair, a tiny stick is all tangled up in them too, wobbling up and down in sync with his rocking, nearly distracting from Tris‘s big green eyes, sparkling with excitement even though the hunch of his shoulders gives his guilt away.

„Sorry sorry sorry for for for- I‘m sorry for, for, uhm, damaging the tree.“

„As long as you are not damaged Trisha.“ Antoni exhales, worried eyes scanning the bouncing teenager up and down. Lingering on scraped open palms with a sympathetic wince that Tristan answers with a beaming grin.

„No no no no. I‘m not. I did, did a dive roll when it, when it broke. Did you see? Did you see me do the the, dive roll?“

„I missed it Trisha.“, Antoni confesses.

„Oh. Oh- oh- okay.“ Tristan‘s eyes wander over to Jack, brows furrowed in an expectant smile.

Jack shakes his head, lip jutting out in remorse. No.

Tris deflates and Antoni wishes he hadn‘t distracted Jack from the window.

Pale brows draw together and Antoni fears, for the split of a second, that these big green eyes will well up with tears. They stay dry. Tristan only cocks his head to the side, eyes fixed over Antoni‘s shoulder.

„Ant, Antoni? Why why why is there smoke in the, in the kitchen?“

Antoni whips around, eyes blown wide. His feet fly over the dry grass towards the rickety backdoor.

„Oy blyat'!“

#whump #pet whump #boxboy whump #box boy whump #boxboys #box boy #guard dog jake #guard dog jake au #fanfiction #bruised whumpee #guard dog box boy #poor antoni can say good bye to his peaceful routine #and his solyanka #rip dinner

[harley4l]

Chapter 11: Two can keep a secret ...

“I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ― Maya Angelou

Beginning / Previous / Next 

Daniel hadn’t always thought of Nelly DeSantis as horrible. When they were both little, about six and seven, their fathers often met for a glass of scotch at Prescott Estate and then Daniel, Spencer, Eleanor and Kara were more or less forced to play with each other. The Nelly he remembered had been quieter and less intolerable. One sunday while Spencer was away with his boy scouts, they sat on the swing of his porch together and listened to an old country song blaring through the opened kitchen window. I wish I had a brother, Nelly had said bluntly. It seemed so random that Daniel just scoffed. Why? When she shrugged, he added. It’s not that great. And he knew what he was talking about — for the past few months his relationship with Spencer had gotten worse and worse, despite Daniel’s efforts to be polite and unobtrusive. It seemed like Spencer had simply decided to hate him. It showed in the bruises on Daniel’s skin.

My sister is ... Nelly had started, but trailed off as Kara came running around the corner. Her hair was disheveled and her cheeks flushed with excitement. Spencer is back home, she’d giggled, grabbing her sister’s hand. Let’s go and flirt with him! Nelly held on to the swing. No, ew. The excitement in Kara’s face dissolved into slight irritation. Why not? He’s so cute! Daniel had glanced back and forth between the twins while they stared each other down, as if engaging in a silent argument. In the end, Nelly rolled her eyes. Fine! 

And off they went. It was one of his few memories before she turned into a spiteful monster. Despite this, all the boys in town had been crushing on Nelly and stood in line for a chance to date her. It seemed that Daniel was the only one unaffected by her alluring charme, due to her decicion to go steady with Spencer. At least that’s what he thought back then. On a scorching hot summer day when he was thirteen years old, he lazed on the couch with his best friend and traded Void Critter comics, their collectible cards sprawled in an unorganized mess on the floor. I am not interested in Eleanor either, Reed had proclaimed while flipping through the pages. Daniel grunted and the raspberry soda he was sipping was prickling in his nose. Not crushing on pretty princesses, huh?, he’d teased. Reed’s cheeks flushed a little. Well, no. I’m crushing on you! Daniel waited for the sike that never came. After a moment, he’d laughed out loud as if this could erase what Reed had said. For a few years, it seemed it did.

When Daniel was sixteen, he was invited to a bonfire barbecue with the cool kids of the Brindleton Private School and everyone brought their friends along so he’d brought Reed as well. His friend had never been a fan of cheerleaders and jocks, which was why they eventually trudged down the path from the woods to drink the cheap beer in their plastic cups at the docks. Daniel should have turned away, yet he just let it happen when Reed leaned over with a drunken grin and glassy eyes to kiss him. Let’s just pretend you didn’t do that, he muttered after the other boy pulled away. Why? Reed frowned. 

Why? Daniel glared it him. He belonged to Brindleton Bay’s high society and everyone there was the same. Girls were ultra skinny plastic dolls in high heels, boys were hyper successful jocks with immaculate white teeth and golden credit cards, and these boys and girls all dated each other. Boys did not date other boys. In fact, Daniel only knew one openly gay couple, the Heckings, who volunteered at the shipyard and sold seafood at the local market each week. The two men seemed nice, but the one time Daniel wanted to buy their shellfish sandwich his mother had pulled him away and muttered sternly: we don’t buy from people like that, Daniel. His parents had never made a secret of their thoughts regarding people who didn’t fit the social norm. If they ever came to think that Daniel was „like that“, they‘d send him off to a military boot camp in no time. 

I like girls, Daniel told Reed flatly.

But he should’ve known someone was always watching in this town. Back at the bonfire, Nelly had scooted close to him, her icy breath tickling his ear once no one was looking. Danny and Reed are sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, she’d cackled under her breath. And I’m going to tell everyone. Kiss popularity goodbye, Danny. When Daniel froze and stared at her she smirked, apparently very proud of herself for spying. However ... I might keep your scandalous little secret for a price. 

Nelly meant she wanted cash, and lots of it. Fifteen grand and she’d forget about the secret, so she promised. It was common knowledge in all of Brindleton Bay that a promise from Nelly was worth nothing, however in this case he had not much of a choice left. Sure, Daniel had kissed girls before, but his peers always had to set him up to it and some even told him it was weird how he was so disinterested, or how he hadn’t scored a girlfriend yet. Daniel always joked it was because he had such high expectations, but once Nelly was blabbing they were going to change their minds. People believed in everything coming from her mouth religiously, contradicting her was basically blasphemy. Eventually, Daniel supplied the simoleums to Nelly, expecting the matter would be done with it.

Nelly was already planning her next shopping trip on the phone, while she eagerly flicked through the cash. After she’d counted it twice she clicked her tongue. We’re not done yet. The fifteen grand were hush money regarding your little boyfriend, but you're a real treasure chest of secrets. The dirt I have on you alone is worth so much more. Her voice was filled with glee. You don’t know anything about me, Daniel spat. He’d pointed at the door. Now get out, or I swear ... Nelly cocked her head and watched him with those ultra blue eyes, a knowing smirk settling on her face. Of course I do. I know who you really are, Danny. She’d shifted closer and whispered it into his ear.

I wish I had a brother, Nelly had told him, back when he thought she’d been a decent person. Except now he viewed this memory in a different light. Her gaze had not been wistful, but cold and calculating. Even as a seven year old kid, she had been rotten to her core. His existence had been an elaborate joke to her and she couldn’t wait to deliver the punchline. Her relationship with Spencer had allowed her to go in and out of his house for years and according to Nelly, his mother had been entertaining an affair with her father for sixteen years and counting. And congrats, you’re their love baby, she’d purred. She’d sworn up and down that she had top secret evidence of the affair on her phone which she would leak to all of Brindleton Bay in case he didn’t transfer 130.000 simoleums to her bank account. While Daniel refused to believe the absurdity of her assertion, he was cautious to call her “proof” a bluff. What was going to happen if it wasn’t? Would his parents divorce? Would his dad never speak to him again? He loathed himself for being so gutless, but he ended up transfering the entirety of his college funds to her, hoping she would finally be satisfied and shut up.

The weekend before summer vacation, Daniel put together a party to celebrate his designation as captain of the school’s basketball team. He’d explicity invited a handful of people who he thought might have some dirt on Nelly, but it turned out she was very careful with her own secrets. When being questioned about her private life, most people answered with frowns and blank faces, even Nelly’s friends. It seemed as if the whole town knew Nelly, but at the same time they didn’t know anything about her. He’d more or less given up when Zoe Westerberg, a girl he attended biology class with, started to dance very close to him. She swayed her hips suggestively and winked. Daniel instinctively scanned the room for Nelly’s prescence and caught her gaze at the bar where she whispered with Jillian and Rachel. He returned Zoe’s smile, grabbed her hand and twirled her around. Nelly’s eyebrows tilted upwards as she watched them dance together. Yeah, look at that, bitch, Daniel wished he could shout. I’m flirting with a girl. As if reading his mind, Nelly got up and stalked towards them. She didn’t spare another look at him, just put a hand on Zoe’s arm. Hun, won’t you come join me and the girls? I think Daniel isn’t for you. Zoe stopped dancing, the question mark almost visible on her face. Excuse me? Nelly smirked at Zoe, stretching out her next words delightfully. You should know, Daniel isn’t into girls! Her voice was so shrill even the people in the back of the room had to hear it. Daniel drew in a sharp breath, his mind coming to a screeching halt. Nelly‘s mouth was moving, she was saying something else but all he could hear was a deafening ringing in his ears. He could feel his face burning with shame. Leave, he croaked, or perhaps he yelled it because the boys he‘d hired as security came to escort Nelly outside. Even as she was being pulled away she was laughing, her eyes wide open and flashing with spitefulness. They were of the same shade of blue as his own and he hated it. He hated that she was right, not only about what she’d just said but about everything else as well. He hated her because she didn’t care. He hated himself for doing just that.

I wished Nelly was dead, he told Reed as they were throwing horseshoes in the woods. It was the end of summer and the leaves were turning scarlet mixed with dirty browns. Reed picked up the iron he‘d thrown and shot him a stern look. You don’t mean that. But those thoughts were swarming his mind like a mantra. I wished Nelly was dead. I. wished. Nelly. was. dead. 

In winter, Nelly turned seventeen and as their friends and business partners, his family was forced to attend the celebration. After some second guessing, Daniel had brought Rachel along and Nelly had said nothing about her. Months ago during a chilly summer evening, they’d sat on the couch eating popcorn and waited to watch a movie with Spencer, when Rachel had leaned in close. You’re cute, she breathed against his cheek. He thought of his brother, who was getting ready for his girlfriend upstairs, then he thought of Reed and that his mother thought Daniel couldn’t be like that. If he was pretending to be someone else until the end of time, why not try and get back at his brother? A door was slammed shut upstairs — and Daniel had ignored his gut and moved to kiss Rachel.

Nelly had shot Rachel a blank look when she entered her house holding hands with Daniel, other than that she’d completely ignored them and tended to her presents. They had barely exchanged words since that incident and Daniel got the impression that she regarded the extortion as done, after all she’d been paid generous money despite spilling his secret anyway. Well, he wasn’t done with her. It had taken literal months to outlast the aftermath of her announcement at his party. Kids had snickered and whispered wherever he went, his pals had teased him to no end and his teammates had even considered revoking his title as captain, apparently afraid the gay was going to „rub off onto them“. But the worst thing was that his parents, after they’d inevitably caught wind of the matter, had not spoken a single word to Daniel for two weeks—he almost choked on his water when his dad announced at dinner he hoped the rumor was't going to hurt his political campaign. Daniel had repeated over and over again that he was straight, that Nelly was lying, but the talk had only truly died after he started going steady with Rachel. If he learned anything from this, it was how unaccepting the town truly was. 

After dinner had been served, Daniel and his brother got drunk on booze and Rachel ended up leaving early as it became clear he wasn’t going to spend time with her. At one point, Daniel walked out onto the porch to smoke when he caught sight of Nelly’s silhouette in the kitchen window. She seemed to argue with her friend, her arms were gesticulating wildly and her cheeks were flushed angrily. He dragged at his cigarette and watched her through the frosted window. Nelly seemed to notice something and her movements became slower, distracted. She stared at the window, a strange look settling on her face. She looked almost ... fearful. Daniel exhaled and flicked the burnt stump of his cigarette away. He turned to walk inside when he was sure he heard her laughter, high pitched and hysterical. Something in his head snapped white, hot and painful and he felt his feet slowing to an halt. The hazy fog around his eyes cleared and when he breathed out into the darkness he felt completely calm. He kept walking, but not back inside.

He’d woken up with a hangover the following morning not quite remembering how he’d gotten into bed. His head was throbbing in pain and his muscles felt sore. As he’d scrambled out of bed, he noticed his brother leaning in the doorframe. Mom and Dad are waiting downstairs, they want to talk to us about Nelly before the detectives come over, Spencer had informed him dryly. When Daniel asked why detectives were coming over, Spencer gaped at him, his brown eyes flashing with anger. Because Nelly was freaking murdered? Not funny, you dumbass. He’d slammed the door shut with a bang before Daniel had the chance to process this. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the world seemed to spin. Nelly was ... dead? He tried to recall the past evening, but there was a strange void in his head. Nothing about this was funny. Despite of it, he realized he was smiling.

Three days after the incident, Reed had approached him in the locker room after sports. He‘d held a white card in his hand. Can’t believe I was actually invited to her funeral, he’d admitted. Daniel snorted. Apparently the DeSantis‘ sent out invitation cards to everyone in town, even the people who had never spoken to Nelly in her life. For a split second, a worried expression had crossed Reed‘s face. You didn’t have anything to do with what happened to her ... did you? The words hung in the air like a dark cloud while Daniel pulled off his sneakers and shoved them under the bench beneath him. Perhaps, he‘d shrugged. When his friend‘s face paled however, he flashed a nervous smile. Not really. I‘m kidding silly! And as if to prove a point, he stood and pressed a kiss on Reed‘s cold lips. They tasted like cigarettes and lemon soda. No one would ever know about that though. Because Nelly was gone and everything she’d known about them had been erased with her like dirty old chalk washed from a board. The day after her murder, Daniel had noticed a weird scratch under his jaw in the mirror as he was brushing his teeth. He had no idea where he’d gotten that and it was making him a little nervous. He sincerely hoped he didn’t remember because he'd been hungover, and that was all. There’d been a period in time when he was a child and things between Spencer and him had gotten so bad that Spencer was physically hurting him when their parents had noticed Daniel kept forgetting huge chunks of time. When they first asked about the bruises on his arms and legs, he couldn’t recall where he’d gotten them. This happened a number of times, so his parents took him to a psychologist who examined Daniel’s behavior and told his parents that the memory loss was caused by high emotional stress or unprocessed trauma. 

While Daniel wasn’t an expert, murdering somebody would most likely fall into one of those categories. If he actually killed Nelly and blocked out the memory he wasn’t going to shed tears about it now. This bitch had absolutely deserved it. Yet as Daniel turned away from Reed and shoved his bag into his locker, there was a bitter taste in his mouth and a dull ache in his chest. No, he reprimanded himself. All she had ever done was sabotage him and everyone he loved. Her death wasn’t sad. It was good. He’d slammed the locker shut. 

The dreaded day of Nelly’s funeral came. Her best friend Kirsten held a speech and somehow told everyone with a straight face what an inspiring girl and great friend Nelly had been. Everyone cried, even Daniel‘s cousin Rebecca who‘d said to his face that she wished Nelly gone. The hypocrisy was absolutely baffling. After the service, Daniel and his family had to pass the DeSantis at the archway on their way out. Nelly‘s mother was sobbing into a handkerchief while his dad briefly exchanged words with Nelly‘s father. Nelly’s younger sister Miranda glanced through the church with red, puffy eyes. Her twin sister Kara held her chin high while absentmindedly patting Miranda‘s shoulder. Her gaze seemed bleary, but as she caught Daniel staring her eyes narrowed with such a blunt hatred that the hairs on his neck stood on end. Outside the church, his father smoothed his immaculate black suit. The poor girl, he sighed dejectedly. What a pity, his mother chimed in, though her face didn’t look particularly pitying. Yeah, Spencer muttered. Daniel said nothing.

Because right then, everything was finally how it should be. He was still dating Rachel. He was still Daniel Prescott and he was with his family — his mother, his father and his brother. Just the four of them.

Without Nelly.

Next Chapter: The sister named Kara

#thesims #thesims4 #sims4 #Sims Stories #harley4l #mystery #storytelling #gameplay #a deceptive perfection

[wertdifferenz]

3/30 Future

Finally finished the march prompts! (Well, not really, because I missed out on day 31, bc I didn’t read it correctly and but it together with day 24). Anyway, here you go!

This is part 4 of my angst fic! Part One /// Part Two /// Part Three

-xx-

Death is nothing like Keith imagined. And yes, he did imagine being dead a couple of times before, especially when life became too hard to bear sometimes. He always thought it would be peaceful, quiet, and warm, just like being in the arms of his lover.

But all he feels right now is pain.

His side is burning as if some put hot coals in there, it‘s heat sending waves of pain through his veins that feel like molten iron mixed with lava. His skin feels on fire, and through the thick cloud that is fogging his brain and keeps his mind in a endless maze of pain he can hear a familiar voice calling out his name.  

If only that voice was real, Keith thinks to himself while trying to open his eyes. He‘d rather see the hell he put himself into than keep wandering blindly through the agony of darkness and his angel‘s voice.  

Another wave of pain hits him, and the black around him seems to darken even more. He bears the pain like anyone else would, screaming even though he can‘t even hear himself, struggling against a hold he can‘t feel, and hoping, begging, to make it stop.  

Until it does.  

-xx-

Kids.  

That‘s what Lance brought up on a warm, sunny day spend lounging on the beach and worrying about nothing but what they should have for dinner later on.  

„I don‘t know if I want to have kids on my own,“ he said out of the blue, eyes fixed on the ocean in front of them, even though his attention was stubbornly on Keith, „but I guess it would be nice.“ His fingers were twitching in Keith‘s hand, a sign that he was nervous, so Keith squeezed them reassuringly, making Lance look at him instead.  

„I never really thought about it,“ Keith confessed after a while. „I never even thought of having a family, or someone who loves me like you do.“

Lance shuffled a bit closer, the sand moving around him in little waves, loving his body just like the ocean did, just like Keith did. Keith felt Lance‘s hand peel away from his own and snake around his waist instead, dragging him into his side until they were flush together.  

„Well, I guess it‘s time you start thinking about it,“ Lance murmured, his lips moving from Keith‘s clothed shoulder to his free neck, caressing the skin with the gentlest care and uttermost affection. „Because I‘m not going anywhere.“

These words felt like blooming flowers in Keith‘s heart, their warmth spreading through him sickeningly sweet like honey and their meaning sticking piercing him open, leaving him raw and vulnerable and totally unbothered by the fact that Lance could hear his breath hitch, could feel the skip of his heartbeat, could taste his salty tears on his lips as Keith turned around to kiss him gratefully.

-xx-

It‘s still dark when Keith comes to his senses, but in a different kind of way. Instead of blinding pain he feels nothing, as if the melted iron he felt before has solidified in his veins and left his body heavy and useless.  

Prying his eyes open feels is a difficult tasks, because they feel even heavier than his body. It‘s worth it though, because with the darkness around him it‘s easy to make out the moon and the stars in the sky that watch over him through the window right at his bed.  

His bed?

He looks down next, sees the white sheets he can‘t feel and soft curtains that caress his hand as they get blown into the room by a soft ocean breeze. On top of the white blanket is another one, dark and woolen with a pattern Keith recognizes from somewhere, even though he can‘t remember where from.  

He takes a deep breath, the act painful, but the sting soon forgotten as he takes in the familiar fresh and salty smell of his home. It makes him feel a calmness he‘s hardly ever felt in the years of war, and his mind starts to fog over again. With a last, longing look at the stars, Keith falls back asleep.

-xx-

„Amor, wake up.“  

Keith opens his eyes, getting blinded by the sun until Lance steps into his sight, creating a shadow so that Keith can see him properly. His hair is longer than Keith is used too, his blue eyes shining like the ocean behind him, and his smile bright and ethereal like always.

When Keith doesn‘t move from his spot in the warm sand, Lance takes a seat next to him. Keith can see him better now. Lance‘s hair is curled and wet from swimming in the ocean, his skin still glistering with little droplets that race down his toned body, and his smile directed at Keith just as warm as the sun above them and the sand underneath them.  

Lance snakes his hand into Keith‘s, intertwining their fingers and squeezing tightly. His smile turns sad, strained, but still so loving as he looks at Keith, as he takes him in as if they haven‘t spend the whole day together in the sun. „You have to wake up, amor.“

I am awake, Keith tries to say, but the words are stuck in his throat. Keith sits up, feels the sand slide like a sheet down his sweaty back and the rays of sunshine heat up the skin on his stomach, breaking through it as if it was warm butter and starting to burn him from the inside.  

Keith frantically searches for Lance‘s gaze, but Lance isn‘t looking at his eyes anymore, but at his stomach, where the skin is splitting apart and leaving him raw and bleeding and in so, so much pain. Keith is squeezing their intertwined fingers, trying to reach Lance, trying to make him look into his eyes again, reassure him that he‘s fine, that everything will be alright. But all Keith can do is watch Lance‘s eyes turn worried and frightened, staring at Keith‘s bleeding wound until everything goes dark.  

His strength is leaving him, but Keith holds onto Lance‘s hand as long as possible. The last thing he hears before the dream washes away with the waves of the nearby ocean is Lance‘s voice, pleading to him. „Please, amor, please don‘t leave me again.“

I won‘t, Keith wants to answer so, so bad.  

-xx-

The line between life and death is too blurred for Keith to see clearly anymore. Or was it always that blurred? When did the lines started to appear in the first place, and when did Keith start to notice them?

He doesn‘t know, doesn‘t want to know anymore. Keith feels lost in the rhythm of heaven and hell, the mixture of his memories with Lance and the reality without him. Sometimes things clear up a little bit, enough for Keith to remember why he is hurting in the first place, and why the pain in his heart feels different from the pain in the rest of his body.  

But mostly, Keith is lost. Lost in the ‚had been‘s‘ of the past, and the ‚what if‘s‘ of the future that he knows will never come. Of the stars that shone when he first kissed those plump lips, and the sun that rose the morning they will adopt their first child.  

Of the waves that played with their boat when Lance taught him how to sail, and the wind that runs through their hair when Lance teaches his grandchildren just the same.  

Of the water around their feet when Keith realizes that he wants nothing more than to tie their lives together, and the sand under his knee when he finally gets to ask Lance that important question.  

The memories burn into him like the pendant of the necklace that‘s placed right above his heart, and the short flashes of his stolen future split his heart open like the blade of the Galra that took his life. Or at least tried to, because the pain he is feeling can‘t be nothing but the burden of life and the actual wound in his stomach.  

Keith wants nothing more than for all this pain to finally stop.  

-xx-

His chest feels heavy with all the weight on it, but it‘s not his emotions that are almost crushing him. When Keith runs his hand over the person laying on him, he can feel soft curls, their tips a bit crusty from the salty water of the ocean, a few knots in them from the strong breeze that came during the evening.  

Keith runs his fingers through Lance‘s hair, trying to detangle a few strands without waking his sleeping husband. Since Lance is still working on his ship during the earliest morning hours, they don‘t tend to wake up together, so Keith enjoys the lazy morning for what it‘s worth.  

The bed is a bit crowded, but he doesn‘t mind as long as no one falls out of it. Smothering his left arm with his face is their youngest son, a Galran boy Keith found all alone in an abandoned village that Altea reclaimed after winning the war. His hair is as black as Keith‘s, and just as messy as Lance‘s, though he keeps it long enough to braid it during the day.

Their oldest daughter is close to falling off the bed already, being pushed away by their middle child. She tends to leave the youngest two sleep closer to Keith and Lance whenever they come around, and even though she has woken up from landing on her butt before Keith could safe her multiple times already, she never complains.  

Keith is proud of his little family, happy about every single one of the people that occupy the way to small bed and steal his blanket all the time. He enjoys every little twitch and snore, every breath they blow right into his ears, every puddle of salvia that lands on his sleeping shirt and every accidental kick into his sides when they try to maneuver into a more comfortable position.  

On top of his chest Lance moves his head to the side, his eyes slowly fluttering open and focussing on his daughters before he lifts his chin to look at Keith instead. Their eyes lock together and they break out in a soft smile, saying nothing and everything by just staring at each other the way they always do.  

Those four people are Keith‘s family, the people he loves the most, the people he would live and die for every single day. They are his past, his present and his future, and Keith be damned if he would ever let them be taken from him.  

-xx-

A soft breeze in his hair is what wakes Keith this time.  

No pain, no molten iron, no hot lava, no sting in his eyes and no bad memories.  

Only the wind, and the sound of the ocean outside the window.

Keith lets his eyes closed for a while. It must be night with how quiet it is, and with no light trying to shine through his eyelids. Everything is calm; the sea outside, the wind in his hair, even the pulse of the hand holding his.

The hand…?

Keith squeezes it, enjoys the feeling of soft skin on his own calloused one and the warmth it seems to spread to his whole body. He knows that hand, knows every ridge and scar from building boats, knows how it‘s owner took very special care of them to make sure they stay as soft as they are.  

He even knows the ring on the finger next to the pinkie, the silvern band he gave him so many years ago as a promise, just between them, for the future to come. Not an actual engagement gift, just something Keith found and thought it would look nice on him.

Keith breaths out slowly and opens his eyes.  

He‘s finally able to see more of the room now that he is not in pain anymore, now that the fog is not clouding his mind. The full moon outside illuminates the white curtains on the window and the woolen blanket on top of him. Keith can make out the pattern on it, white waves in a blue ocean, the same one Lance‘s mother made for him for his sixteenth birthday.  

And right next to it, head resting on in Keith‘s leg, cheek squished slightly and making him look so much younger, breathing in deeply and out just the same and sleeping as tight as the bright moon will let him, is Lance.

„Lance…“ Keith whispers since his throat is too dry to get anything more out. His voice sounds like it hasn‘t been used in a very long time, deep and hoarse and very breathy, but it gets Lance‘s hand in his own twitching as reaction.  

Keith squeezes his fingers again, tries to clear his throat a little bit and tries again. „Lance?“

It isn‘t enough to wake him immediately. Lance stirs for a little while, his hand squeezing Keith back softly, his brows furrowing and relaxing over and over again, until he finally opens his eyes.

Gosh, how Keith has missed those eyes. They are just as blue as Keith remembers them, but he feels himself falling for them all over again. The ocean in those eyes is swirling lazily, moving over the the curtains and the blankets until they land on their intertwined fingers.  

Lance smiles down, plays with Keith‘s hand and caress it softly, not looking up until Keith squeezes his fingers again. Only now Lance‘s eyes move to him, slow and tired and oh so loving, widening when their gazes meet.

Lance‘s breath stops, and the heartbeat under his skin stalls for a second before it resumes much faster than before. His next breath is shaky, just like the smile twitching in the corners of his mouth, hopeful and disbelieving at the same time. 

„Keith?“ he whispers softly, making Keith‘s inside churn pleasantly, and his heart swell with emotions.  

„Hey.“

Lance chuckles wetly, tears streaming down his cheeks before Keith can stop them. „You‘re awake.“

Keith raises an eyebrow, the act pretty exhausting, even if it isn‘t much. He can feel the tiredness creeping up on him again, but he tries his best to stay awake for a little longer, to be able to look at his love as long as possible.

„You‘re alive,“ Keith answers, his hoarse voice full of wonder and the same disbelieve that‘s clear in Lance‘s voice.  

Lance nods, a big grin appearing on his face, and Keith‘s heart melts. How long has it been since he has seen that smile in person? Too long, he knows that.  

„Everyone‘s safe,“ Lance says after a second, his eyes shining with pride and happiness. „Even my nephew, thanks to you.“

Keith is too tired to think about the meaning of those words, can do nothing but lay here, look at the love of his life and let all those feelings wash over him like the waves on the beach outside. His eyes begin to feel heavy, and Keith struggles to fight the exhaustion.

Lance seems to realize that Keith is having problems staying awake right now. He gets up from his seat and moves closer to Keith instead, sits right next to him on the bed and leans down until their foreheads are touching.  

„You need to rest, amor,“ he whispers while running his fingers through Keith‘s bangs, moving them aside to kiss him right above his eyebrows, and his temple, and his cheeks, and…

Keith hums into the kiss, tries his best to lean up to deepen it. He can feel his the wet heat in his own eyes, as well as some tears from Lance falling on his cheeks and rolling down his face. He can‘t even start to describe the rush of emotions from feeling Lance‘s lips on his again. It‘s everything he ever wanted in the last few years, everything he dreamt of and everything he yearned for.  

Keith finally feels whole again.

„Sleep, amor. I‘ll be here when you wake up,“ Lance whispers against his lips, his smile mirrored on Keith‘s face. Keith nods tiredly, takes another long look in his favorite ocean before closing his eyes.  

Briefly he can feel the bed dip a bit further, can feel Lance‘s hand on his chest and his head on his shoulder. Sleep comes to him quickly, and the first time since this war started, Keith is finally at peace.  

#monthlyklance #klance #lance #keith #lance mcclain #keith kogane #voltron #future #angst #angst with happy ending

[kenzieam]

Surrender to the Call - Chapter Four (Bucky X Lev)

Rating: M (language, violence, mentions of torture and abuse, eventual smut, angst)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes @jaamesbbarnes @lancefvcker @bitsandbobsandstuff @softlybarnes @lovelybbarnes @buckitybarnes @bucky-plums-barnes  @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee @tbetz0341 @chook007 @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw  @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @melgoodwin @clarabella960 @curvybihufflepuff @plaidcat4815 @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @sergeantwhitewolf@smilexcaptainx  @shirukitsune

If I missed any tag requests, I apologize!!

*IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR DELETED FROM THIS LIST, DM ME*

**Potential Triggers, please read with caution**

*******************************************************************************************

Bucky and Shuri work to bring Lev back but, when she wakes up, can she deal with all the bad shit she did as HYDRA’s pawn?

*******************************************************************************************

Shuri glanced up as Bucky entered the room and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. If front of her, frozen and unconscious, was Levi, face twisted in a final rictus of terror, her scar standing out a harsh purple against her pale skin. A large holographic display hovered in the air in front of the princess and she frowned at the intricate web before her, playing with her bottom lip.  

Bucky had awakened not long ago, compelled to check Shuri’s progress even though it twisted an agonizing knife through his heart to see Lev, especially with her ghastly final expression, her plea of ‘please’ still fresh in his ears.  

“Sleep well?” Shuri asked, concentrating on the image of Lev’s mind and consciousness in front of her.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck. “How long was I out?”

“Almost 2 days.” Shuri flicked a look at him. “You obviously needed the rest.”

There was no use denying it and, even if he did, Shuri was too smart to be fooled, and too good a friend. “It’s been rough.”

Shuri nodded, turning her eyes back to the display. She knew the whole story. 

“It is deeper this time.” Shuri murmured and Bucky moved closer to look. “The tendrils of influence, they’re deeper and stronger. Parts of her brain have been altered, the impulse control centre shrunk, the area of aggression nurtured and grown. I read the full report from Dr. Banner. He believes they used cognitive subversion and I must agree.”

“What does that mean?”

“If I had to guess, she was restrained and made to watch multiple images of violence and depravity, and pumped full of steroids and adrenaline at the same time, essentially rewiring her brain. I’ve read reports of this type of torture, it’s quite effective, and devastating to the subject.”

“Can you fix it?”

Shuri paused. “I don’t know.”

Bucky swallowed hard and moved to turn away to hide his sudden tears but Shuri gently rested her hand on his shoulder. “I will try my best.”

Bucky nodded, not able to speak.  

“Is it possible to obtain records of her treatment?” Shuri asked hesitantly, biting her bottom lip as Bucky turned back to look at her incredulously. “I have no desire to learn the degree of misery Levi suffered, but if I knew exactly how and what they did, I may be more successful at reversing it.”

It made sense but Bucky had no desire to read the reports himself, it would be his final undoing to know the details; the end result was enough to break his heart. “I’ll see if Bruce or the team can get them.”

“They are trying to take down HYDRA now?”

“Yes. When we recovered Lev, the government team managed to grab an agent too. I don’t know what they did to him, but they seem to think his information’s credible.”

“Perhaps,” Shuri offered tentatively. “If this results in HYDRA’s fall, Lev’s capture and corruption will have had some value.”

Bucky wiped at his eyes. “I’d rather have Lev whole and with me, even if it meant HYDRA was still out there.”

Shuri nodded silently. After a moment her hand rested gently on Bucky’s forearm, his skin hot, the muscles beneath rock-hard. “This will take time, go out and clear your head, Lev will need you when she wakes.”

********************************************************************************************* The warm sun on his face was indeed relaxing and, as Bucky leaned back against the rock behind him, he did feel his mind beginning to clear. It hurt, the way your hand will ache if you’ve been gripping something hard for a long time then released it; his very being hurt right now. Bucky hadn’t felt this way in a long time, not since he’d first begun to reawaken and remember, relive the horrors HYDRA put him through and the lives he took.  

Lev would be in similar agony... if she woke up. Shuri didn’t sound very confident

Maybe, even if they were taken down, HYDRA did win after all.  

The tears came hot and sudden, feeling like blood as they streamed down his face. He’d given his entire heart and soul over to Lev, she owned him, she had the power to break him. He should have stayed away, stayed unattached, preserved himself; not fallen so desperately in love; for what was life, except for suffering, at least for Bucky? He should have known this wasn’t his life to have, fate would snatch it away sooner or later.  

For a time, his anguish took hold, and the sun had moved across the sky before he was in control again, slumped back against the rock, weak with exertion and emotion.  

He couldn’t leave. No matter what happened. Even through the worst of his agony, when he could hardly draw breath between sobs, that thought had glowed bright in the back of his mind. Lev needed him, regardless of his pain, regardless of his regrets, Lev needed him to be there when she woke up. His words to Steve came back to him, how he‘d wished Lev were dead to save her from the sorrow and pain that awaited her when she awoke, and he knew he hadn’t truly meant them. He was too selfish, too attached, too fused to Lev to separate. He would help her crawl through her hell, be there for her on the other side because that the only option. It was too painful to leave her.

A fresh ache started low in his abdomen. His body craved release, craved the warmth of Lev against him, the feel of him inside her. Once they’d begun being intimate, they’d never stopped. Both were serum-enhanced and insatiable, it was not unusual for one to take the hand of the other when they were home in the Tower, and tug them quietly to their quarters, ignoring the hooting and laughing of their teammates behind them, the teasing that ‘this is the third time today!’. The first few days after a mission were always shot to hell, neither one emerging from their room except to grab food, then back inside. It made the others roll their eyes and tease Bucky and Lev about their ‘sex den’, but they couldn’t help it; they were addicts, each other’s favourite drug.  

Yet, despite his anxious need, there would be no relief. Taking care of himself in the shower barely took the edge off and, even if he wasn’t completely abhorred at the thought of being with another, his body failed to respond to anyone else but Levi.    

Groaning, Bucky scrubbed his hands over his eyes, then pushed to his feet. He needed to exercise, go for a run, hard and fast, exhaust his body to try and temper his mind, then maybe he’d be strong enough to check on Lev again.  

*******************************************************************************************

Shuri was indeed as good as her word to Steve, and had devoted her entire time to Lev, barely taking time out to rest or eat. She ignored both T’Challa and Bucky when they tried to pull her away, flapping her hand dismissively at them, stubbornly focusing on the display of Lev’s brain. She’d ran infinite scenarios, trying to figure out the best way to untangle HYDRA’s corruption, but so far, every simulation resulted in something vital to Lev’s personality being stripped as well.  

Shuri was getting frustrated. As one of the most brilliant people on the planet, she wasn’t used to being unsuccessful at a task she was putting her full attentions to and that in turn made her even more stubborn.  

At both royal sibling’s urging, Bucky was reclaiming himself, taking time to decompress and relax, reflect and think on everything like he had when Shuri had first helped him, and later when Lev had been brought here as a scared, reflexively violent girl, damaged by HYDRA’s mistakes and left to fade away and die in Siberia.

She’d awakened a woman, able to shrug off those chains and grow into a valuable member of the team. No one else, not even Bucky, could get Steve to laugh the way Lev could, no one else could tease the same delighted grin from Bucky or shut Sam down so effectively that even he enjoyed it.

Bucky missed her. He wanted her back.

There had been nothing but radio silence from the team so far, eight days of nothing. Even Bucky’s relay 0f Shuri’s request had been unanswered, and while this unnerved Bucky, he knew the team was too busy to drop a line. They needed to be successful this time; Bucky, Lev, the whole team couldn’t continue on with the spectre of HYDRA still out there, waiting to swoop in and steal Lev or even him, away again; HYDRA needed to be put down like the rabid dog it was.  

A loud rush in the sky grabbed his attention and Bucky looked up from the rodent family he’d been sitting with. He and Lev had sat out here often before, befriending the gerbil-like critters and the little buggers seemed to have remembered him, tentatively sniffing at his large fingers before allowing him to stroke their tiny backs, scurrying along his legs and up his shoulders to tug at his hair and sniff along his jaw.                                                                        

With a jolt, Bucky recognized the quinjet as it hissed past and he stood, gently disentangling and setting down the little creatures before turning and sprinting back towards the palace. It had to be Steve, returning with word of the mission, hopefully with files that could help Shuri with Lev.  

It was indeed the blond captain, talking with T’Challa when Bucky sprinted up, the sweat gleaming on his skin more from anxiety over what Steve was about to say then from the exertion of the run and stopped short when he saw his friend.  

Steve looked like he’d been put through the ringer. Fading bruises and cuts marred his face and the tense way he held his shoulder spoke to an injury his enhanced body hadn’t yet been able to heal fully. Regardless, upon seeing Bucky, Steve strode towards him and pulled his oldest friend into a crushing bear hug. Pulling away slightly, he slapped his hands onto Bucky’s shoulders.  

“We did it.”

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realized he’d been holding. “HYDRA?”

“All but dead. We cut off the head, Buck. We did it. What’s left is just crumbs.”

Bucky’s heart jolted painfully. This seemed like a dream. “Everyone okay?”

Now Steve’s eyes darkened. “Mostly.”

“Who?”

“Wanda, Sam.... Clint. They’re not dead but Bruce is going to be busy in the medical lab for a while. Tony got busted up pretty bad but his suit took most of the force, he’s walking around like he just got in a car wreck, but at least he’s walking. Nat’s far from 100 % but her, Bruce and Tony are holding down the fort okay.”

“What about the government guys?”

Steve winced. “Not so lucky. What’s left of the teams are being organized to track and kill the last few HYDRA hold-outs.”

“So... it’s really over?”

Steve shrugged, looking exhausted. “I really hope so, but who knows? HYDRA was huge and they lasted so long because they were secret. But we definitely dealt them a critical blow.” He jumped slightly, as if remembering something, and slapped his hands against his chest, resembling a man looking for his missing pack of smokes. Triumphantly, he dug into his front breast pocket and brandished a small thumb drive, holding it out towards the two men. Bucky backed away instinctively, having a pretty good idea what it was.  

T’Challa reached out and accepted it.

“I got your request.” Steve glanced at Bucky before looking back at the King. “That’s what we found regarding Lev. I couldn’t look at it, but Bruce glanced at it and said it all fits his theories.” His voice darkened with grief and sadness.  

Bucky felt his gorge rising and swallowed hard.  

“There’s more.” Steve looked hesitant.

“Just say it, punk.”

“There’s some old files on there. Either we missed them the first time or they weren’t there but....” He took a deep breath. “It looks like Lev wasn’t meant to be your hunter if you went rogue. She was to be your replacement.”

Bucky jerked in shock. What?

“I’m guessing if her cryofreeze hadn’t gone wrong she would have become HYDRA’s new Winter Soldier.”

This was unexpected. Would HYDRA have just left him in cryofreeze to eventually fade away, like Lev? Or would they have released him one last time, just for Lev to track and kill?  

T’Challa spoke up, breaking the gloomy silence. “Come, you must be exhausted, Captain. There is a room ready for you.”  

Steve hesitated, but accepted at Bucky’s slight nod. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Bucky held out his hand. “I’ll take the drive to Shuri, if you want.”

T’Challa nodded, handing over the drive then turning to Steve, gesturing him to follow.  

Bucky watched them leave, then strode away.

Shuri glanced up from the table she was slumped at and rubbed her eyes. Her expression brightened as her gaze fell on the drive in Bucky’s hand. She yanked a small laptop towards her and held out her hand. Bucky hesitated after giving it to her.  

“Are you staying?” Shuri asked, sounding surprised.

It was morbid, it would be heartbreaking, but Bucky felt compelled to stay and witness at least part of Levi’s torment; she’d lived it, his pain would never compare to hers, it seemed the least he could do. He nodded and Shuri seemed to understand.

The first parts that came up on the screen were written reports and Shuri scanned them quickly, nodding and mumbling to herself, making notes on a small tablet beside her.  

“Just like we speculated, cognitive subversion.” She continued to read and make notes. “I’ve been talking with Dr. Banner and, based on what we were assuming was done, were going to try a direct reversal, in essence, a cognitive affirmation. Show Lev clips of calming, peaceful footage and inject endorphin stimulants, other ‘feel good’ hormones, try to reverse the damage; shrink her overgrown aggression centre, grow the impulse control area again. These reports only confirm that is the best way to try.” Her fingers hovered over the touch pad, a video file had appeared and was waiting to play. After a pause, she tapped the pad.  

A grainy video came up but Bucky had no problem recognizing Lev and his breath hitched in his throat. Lev was twisting in a chair as much as her restraints allowed, the memory suppressor attached to her head. Her devastated, garbled scream came through the speakers and stabbed straight into his heart.    

“Bucky! Buc-” Lev cried, her voice breaking.  

Shuri closed the video, sniffling. A second video came up and her fingers shook slightly as she tapped the pad again.  

Lev was unmoving and blank faced now, secured in perhaps the same chair. Her head was strapped tightly and strange, painful looking devices held her eyes open a la Clockwork Orange. At least four IV lines ran into the crooks of her bruised arms, pumping the steroids and adrenaline into her veins. Her hair had already been shaved, the scar through her eye still bleeding fresh. Screams and bangs sounded over the speakers, light playing over Lev’s cadaverous face. A monotonous voice droned in Russian and Bucky’s fists clenched unconsciously as he listened.  

“What is he saying?” Shuri whispered.

“You belong to HYDRA. Your mind is HYDRA. You are death and pain. You live only to kill and maim...” he broke off with a trembling exhale, fighting to keep his voice steady. “Kill or be killed. No mercy, no pity. You will slaughter all who stand in your way. You are alone, there is no one to save you. You are death, you are death, you are death. And then it just repeats.”  

“Oh, Lev.” Shuri’s voice held near bottomless sorrow. She wiped at her eyes before hitting the pad and pulling the drive free. She tossed it aside with a shudder.    

Bucky took a deep breath, fighting with everything he had to not break down. Shuri’s hand rested briefly on his, then pulled away. She stood suddenly, channeling her horror into action.  

“I will reverse this.” She vowed. Seemingly renewed with fresh energy, she turned away and almost leapt from her chair.  

Bucky watched for a few moments but Shuri was completely focused on her work and he slunk away quietly. He found himself wandering outside again but, rather than returning to the rock formation and gerbil family, he decided to collapse not far from the palace. A convenient rock provided a seat back and for the longest time, Bucky had no energy or drive to do anything. The sun moved across the sky, shadows playing across his face, voices and laughter of Wakandian’s nearby drifted on the wind to his ears, but he stayed motionless, mind churning, trying to chew the newest information about Lev’s treatment into swallowable chunks, but they would never be palatable.  

He was encouraged by Shuri’s newfound confidence, and if there was anyone smart enough on Earth to help Lev, it would be her, but the footage of Lev’s torture played across his mind’s eye on a devastating loop. Eyes forced open, face bleeding, while death and chaos played out in front of her; the disembodied Russian voice, hooking it’s claws deep into her mind.  

No doubt the President will want to see the footage for herself, but it would definitely clear Lev of any guilt for her actions. There was no way she could be held accountable for what she did now. As hard as the footage was to see, and the reports to read, they would guarantee Lev’s clemency.                                    

But, what then?

Shuri reversed the damage, removed HYDRA’s corruption and Levi woke up, then what happened? Lev’s guilt at her actions, involuntary as they were, would still eat away at her. Nearly a thousand people dead, millions more disrupted as their country burned and staggered, how did you recover from that? Bucky would do all he could to help, would love and support her unflinchingly, but how much was too much? Maybe it would be better, for Lev at least, if she simply-

“Buck?”

Bucky startled, muscles creaking and popping after hours of immobility. Steve stood a few feet away, looking tired but still much more refreshed than before. He sat at Bucky’s side with a groan.  

“T’Challa says you’ve been out here for hours.”

Bucky nodded, not looking towards Steve. He cleared his throat. “Shuri and I, we.... reviewed some of that drive you brought.”  

“Bucky, you shouldn’t have-”

“I needed to.” Bucky interrupted, voice strengthening. “Levi lived that; the least I could do was witness it.”

“Was it as bad as we thought?”

“Worse. I don’t know if you can come back from that.”

“Lev can.”

“She’s not bulletproof, punk. She’s only human.”

“And she’s strong, and she has you, and me, and the whole team behind her.”

“Will that be enough?”

“It has to be.” Steve replied quietly. “You’re not the only one who misses her, who wants her back. She’s like a sister to me. Shit, we’re a family, she is my sister.”

Bucky was silent for long moment. “I don’t know, if Shuri removes all that... shit from her mind, what Levi will want. If she’ll stay here for a while, go back to the Tower-”

“Hide out in Bucharest and try to buy plums?” Steve teased gently.

Bucky smirked wryly, reaching over to punch the punk’s shoulder. “Wherever she goes though, I’ll be with her and... if she decides to leave the team, I won’t be staying either.”

Steve nodded silently. In truth, he’d been expecting this. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if Lev just dropped everything and disappeared, started living completely off the grid and away from civilization. The brief image of a small cabin, wood smoke trailing from the chimney and Lev emerging from the front door, holding a tin cup of steaming coffee as the sun glittered through the trees hit him then.  

Whatever Levi decided, she deserved peace and tranquility after all this. And Bucky deserved it too.  

The men went quiet and reflective then, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Steve cleared his throat and broke the silence. “I’ve got to head back. Bruce and Nat need help. I just came to bring the drive and check in.”

Bucky nodded absently, his attention still elsewhere when Steve stood, despite himself reflexively standing as well. Only Steve’s hand slapping his shoulder pulled him fully out of his own head.  

“Get some sleep, jerk.”  

*******************************************************************************************

Shuri’s message had been cautiously optimistic and Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest as he entered the lab. Shuri looked up and smiled widely.

“I was just about to bring her out of freeze. T’Challa’s on his way too.” Even as she spoke, the King entered, Okoye silent at his side.  

“Did it work?” Bucky asked hesitantly, hating the faint quiver in his voice. Shuri had been working non-stop for the last ten days, stopping only to sleep and eat.  

“I’ve removed all traces of HYDRA’s indoctrination and managed to restore Lev’s brain to her pre-corruption state. But... I can’t do anything about how she’ll feel when she wakes up. I’ve just taken away her killer attitude.” Shuri’s confident tone faltered slightly. T’Challa rested his hand on her shoulder.

“You have done well, better than anyone else could. It is up to Levka now.”

Shuri bit her lip, eyes flicking to Bucky’s as her fingers flew over the controls. With a whoosh of air, the cryofreeze was reversed and the containment cylinder retracted.  

Lev blinked, her twisted expression jerking, her teeth clacked together. Her eyes fell closed again and she sagged against the restraints. Bucky leapt towards her, catching her upper arms and T’Challa was there as well when the restraints retracted, helping Bucky catch Lev’s limp body. Okoye watched on high alert as they guided Lev towards the nearby gurney and laid her down. Shuri was there instantly with a thick blanket, pulling it up to Lev’s chin as her teeth started to reflexively chatter with residual cold. The siblings stepped back, giving Bucky some privacy, but Okoye stayed alert and T’Challa was tensed to react as well if Lev woke up swinging, literally or figuratively.  

“Levi?” Bucky murmured, leaning close. His fingertips burned as they stroked along her cheek, jolts shooting up his arm. It had been so long since he’d touched her. “Baby, are you there?”

Her eyelids fluttered, and Bucky caught the faintest whisper from her chapped lips. “Bucky?”

“I’m here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her lids fluttered again and Bucky finally got to see her beautiful amethyst eyes, unfocused for a breath before locking on Bucky’s. Gone was the hard, razor’s edge of violence darkening her iris's to bruises, left was confusion and the beginnings of relief.  

“Bucky.” Her voice was stronger and her hands lifted weakly, brushing against his broad shoulders. Bucky wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and she half-crumpled, half-snuggled against him, her body beginning to shudder. Bucky’s body trembled in answer and tears started to course down his cheeks.

“I missed you baby, so much.” He choked. His lips brushed her forehead, groaning at the sensation. Lev whimpered and clawed weakly closer, nuzzling into his throat. Bucky closed his eyes in bliss, a bone-deep peace coiling through him, fuck, he’d missed this, he’d missed her.

“Bucky, I...” Lev stuttered and Bucky felt her go rigid in his arms. “Oh god, Bucky. What have I done?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky and lev #bucky and nika

[bts-fantasy]

Talk to Me

Requested by @nathansha1803 😁 I hope you like it✨💜

(Songs: Jamais Vu, Best Of Me, Dead Leaves)

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Angst

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon parked his car in the gravelly driveway sighing deeply as he shut the door with a loud noise. He was already exhausted but thinking about going home sounded even more tiring to him for some reason. He looked up at the big house that he shared with you.

Moving in together with the girl of his dreams had always been his personal goal but now the building in front of him didn‘t even feel like his home anymore.

Reluctantly he turned the key and opened the front door to his house trying not to draw any attention. It wasn‘t like he didn‘t want to see you, not at all. Honestly, there wasn‘t anyone else he‘d rather see than you. But how he missed seeing the look in your eyes when you first confessed your love to him again. It was killing him inside.

You were watching your favorite tv show when you heard the car door slam shut outside and you knew it had to be him. Closing your eyes you tried not to think of all the bad things that had been haunting your mind lately and focused on the screen in front of you. You didn‘t move even when the front door opened and you could hear Namjoon kick off his shoes carelessly in the hallway.

He had a bad day again and you knew it right away. It wouldn‘t take long for him to leave the house to meet up with his friends and go down to the bar. It has become a habit of his to get drunk on weekdays and it was honestly getting too much to bear. He didn‘t want to listen to your advice and he didn‘t want to tell you what‘s wrong either. Every time you took a step towards him and tried to understand him he took two steps back and then accused you of not loving him anymore.

And to be honest, you didn‘t know if that was just an assumption anymore.

„I‘m going out.“

The door got slammed shut and you flinched. You tried to swallow down the big lump you felt in your throat telling yourself to calm down again. The number of tears you‘d shed over this was getting ridiculously high and you felt worn out. You had no more strength to carry on and you knew you couldn‘t keep on trying to save someone who didn‘t want to be saved.

So you stood up and walked into your shared bedroom to get your things. Entering the room you stared at the bed for a few minutes reminding yourself of all the happy memories you two had shared only to remember how they had slowly turned into sad ones leaving you to shiver on one end of the bed while the other often remained cold.

With a sigh, you started packing your things while holding back the tears that were blurring your sight. You thought it would be a good idea to stay with your family back in your hometown for a couple of days before deciding your next step. It could even be possible that you‘ll never return to this home again, you thought bitterly.

Without any hesitation, you left through the front door wanting to leave everything behind.

Meanwhile, Namjoon was already sipping on his third drink trying to forget the hard day he had at work. He wanted to drink until he couldn‘t feel the emptiness inside of him anymore. But whenever he closed his eyes your beautiful face came into his mind and he felt the void inside of him grow bigger and bigger.

She doesn‘t love me anymore.

The inner voice spoke again and he took another long sip to shut it out. His habit of drinking his pain away was getting out of control and he knew that.

„Hey man, I think you should go home.“

Seokjin looked at him with a concerned look. He had never seen Namjoon getting this drunk before and his behavior lately was concerning overall, he thought. Namjoon nodded weakly before stumbling down from the barstool. He was walking towards the exit with unsteady steps as his head kept spinning and right before he collapsed to the ground his friend was there to catch him. Seokjin put his arms around him to support him and so both of them walked out of the bar and into the cold night.

The next morning Namjoon woke up on the couch with a huge headache with the biggest hangover ever. With a groan, he heaved himself up and strolled into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. He opened every cupboard on the lookout for the coffee pot not remembering where he’d put it.

„Y/N? Where is the coffee pot?“, he yelled into the house only to be met with silence. Thinking you might still be asleep he walked into your shared bedroom and immediately spotted the empty space on your side of the bedside table where a picture of you and him used to be. An uncomfortable feeling spread inside of his chest as he already had a presentiment about what had happened here but he didn‘t want to believe. So he started looking for you everywhere calling out your name like a broken record, his voice getting louder and more desperate with each time.

After a while of running around in your house, he let himself fall down on the couch with his head in his hands. He had always known that this day would come but he never thought you would actually leave without saying a word. He was disappointed but mostly in himself as he sat there pulling on the strands of his hair.

Only then he noticed the little piece of paper tugged between a book on the coffee table.

If you want this to work out, talk to me. I‘m on my way back to my hometown.

Namjoon‘s heart dropped as he read the few lines in your handwriting on the piece of paper. His mind was racing with a million different thoughts.

Why would you want to see him if you didn‘t want him anymore?

Should he let you go or fight for you?

Didn‘t you deserve someone who wasn‘t as broken as he was?

But above all those thoughts that confused him, he was sure about one and that was the fact that he had never loved anyone as much as he loved you.

So he packed his things and immediately ran to his car to drive to your parent‘s house.

Your parent‘s house was empty when you arrived but luckily you still had your spare key so it wasn‘t a problem. The familiar environment had a calming effect on your troubled soul and you relaxed on your own with a book. But you couldn‘t help the way your mind drifted away to Namjoon more often than you preferred. Thinking about the little note you‘d left him you asked yourself if he would even care enough to talk this out. You could‘ve just walked away but you didn‘t want to throw away the three years you‘d spent with him like it meant nothing. He used to be so happy and full of joy but lately, he had changed so drastically that you questioned if you even knew who he was anymore.

You sat down on the couch in the living room with a hot cup of tea when the doorbell rang. Before you even knew who it was your heart started picking up its pace at the thought of having Namjoon standing there on the porch. Just like you’d assumed it was him, drenched from head to toe from the heavy rain that was pouring outside. His eyes were glistening and reddened as if he‘d cried just a few minutes ago and it broke your heart all over again.

You held the door open for him to enter and quickly went inside to give him a towel so he could dry his hair before he would catch a cold.

Neither of you said a word until you set his mug with boiling tea next to yours on the coffee table and sat down facing Namjoon.

He stared at the mug with a distant look and tried to find the right words to say to make you stay. He needed you and little did he know that you needed him just as much. Thinking about the past few months he could only bring himself up to mutter three words.

„I am sorry.“

Namjoon finally looked up into your teary eyes and you knew he meant it with his whole heart. But you waited for him to continue.

„Y/N, I‘m so sorry for everything. I couldn‘t shake off the thought that you‘d stopped loving me so I got drunk almost every day to forget about everything. I wanted to forget the stress at work and I wanted to forget the void I felt inside. I never wanted to hurt you but I know I did and I‘m sincerely sorry about that. But I still love you and I don‘t want to lose you.“

He sighed shakily as tears rolled down his cheeks and fell on the fabric of his shirt leaving a wet spot. Now that he had confessed everything the weight on his chest got lifted even if it was just a little bit.

You recalled the past few months where you‘d felt more alone than ever and tried to decide whether it was wise to give him a second chance or not. But deep in your heart you already knew the answer. You still loved him and you didn‘t want to lose him either. And the thought of him thinking otherwise hurt you. So you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before saying the three words he had been yearning to hear from you.

„Namjoon, I love you.“

His eyes had gone wide as he stared at you searching for the light in your eyes he was so used to see whenever you said those words to him. His frown turned upwards into a bright smile when he recognized the loving look on your face that washed away every ounce of doubt he had left inside of him. Pulling you into a tight hug he buried his nose in the crook of your neck inhaling your familiar scent as a few tears of happiness dropped down on the bare skin of your shoulder.

You were happy to have the warm feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist again and smiled to yourself as you softly ran your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while enjoying each other‘s presence something you‘d missed for months.

Pulling back finally, you looked at him with a serious expression.

„Please, next time when you‘re having a hard time just come and talk to me instead of drowning your sorrows with alcohol, okay?“

Namjoon nodded obediently while he caressed your cheek with one hand. The gesture brought back many memories and you couldn‘t help but shed a tear as well.

„I promise.“

That was all you wanted to hear from him. You moved closer to him and he put his arms around you wrapping you in his warm embrace as you snuggled into his chest.

„I love you.“

You looked up to meet his eyes and a fond smile spread across his face and he leaned down to peck your lips.

„I love you too, Y/N.“

Masterlist

Song Request Game

#bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #jungkook #taehyung #jimin #namjoon #yoongi #seokjin #hoseok #bts request #ask #bts imagine #bts imagines #imagine #fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts x you #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjoon imagines #kpop #bts army #bts stories #namjoon boyfriend