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#i’m even like @my family y’all shouldn’t have moved here. anywhere else.
bibleofficial · 10 months
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if this freak mechanic don’t got me my car by tomorrow i’m going to be soooo mad 😭😭 it’s been 4 DAYS !!!! WHATRE U EVEN DOIN 😭😭😭😭
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corabbit · 3 years
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:)
A Tiny Burger
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CW: SAFE VORE
Notes: I really didn’t intend for this to be so long but it just kept going. Have some beeduo angsty noms for a treat, I hope y’all like it!
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“Quackity have you seen Tubbo?”
Immediately, the shorter man’s head shot up. His hands that had previously been tinkering with a few stray wires on a slot machine came to halt. His one working eye flashed with fear and worry before settling to a more neutral disposition.
Quackity’s distrust was just another warning. Ranboo knew he wasn’t supposed to be here.
Wilbur would kill him if he knew he had visited Las Nevadas without permission, but he couldn’t shake the worry that had been building up in him for days.
He hadn’t seen Tubbo for a whole week.
He knew they had been having their issues, but at the end of the day they always went back home together. Even though they worked on opposite sides they were still family…or at least Ranboo had thought so.
“No he hasn’t clocked in yet,” Quackity glared, clapping his hands together to get rid of the thin layer of black dust “What’s it to you?”
“Oh… nothing,” he sighed, his tail curling anxiously around his leg, “Just hadnt seen him around lately.”
For a split second Quackity eyes studied him suspiciously, searching for any mistruths. Ranboo could practically feel his skin crawl under the man’s gaze.
It wasn’t a lie though. At least not entirely.
He was looking for Tubbo. It had been almost a whole week of him being missing. And no matter how hard Ranboo tried he couldn’t remember what might’ve happened. No fight or conversation came to mind when he thought for where Tubbo might have gone.
It was like his husband had just vanished.
“Well,” Quackity cleared his throat, “You should probably leave my country yeah? I shouldn’t even be letting you here in the first place.”
Ranboo nodded sheepishly, hyper-aware of the shining axe strapped to the duck-hybrids back. Memories of sitting on the cookie store’s walls and the conversation about his planned execution flashed through his head.
“Yeah, no worries. I’ll be on my way,” Ranboo placated, “Um- just let me know if you see him okay. Please.”
Quackity stared at him again before letting his head fall to his chest with a scoff. The tips of his wings twitched in amusement before he turned back to his work.
“Say hi to Wilbur for me yeah.”
Ranboo nodded quickly before almost tripping on his own feet. The nervousness flooding his whole body made him feel like he was vibrating.
He had no idea where else to look for his husband.
He’d asked almost everyone, and no one had seen any signs of the tiny. Not even Tommy had seen him to Ranboo’s dismay. He knew he was probably fine, if anything they probably got into an argument he forgot about. Maybe he said something bad enough to make Tubbo finally leave him.
The thought made him cringe, but it was better than the other alternatives. He didn’t even want to consider if Tubbo had been injured. The tiny was already too careless especially with only one life left.
Ranboo’s thought finally stopped spinning once the burger van came into view. It stood proudly along the tree line bordering Las Nevadas, and smoke from the grills puckered out from the windows like steam. Even from so far he could smell the savoury scent of the burgers.
“Ranboo!” a loud voice called out, “What are you doing man?”
Immediately the enderman’s head snapped towards the sound of the voice, catching on the brown mop of hair peaking out of one of the van’s windows. The wind blew it across his face but even so he would know the man anywhere.
“Hey Wilbur,” he sighed as he jogged over to the van, “Sorry I’m late.”
“No fucking shit,” Wilbur glared, the cigarette between his fingers pointing straight at the enderman, “Where’ve you been. We’ve got a fucking business to run if you haven’t forgotten.”
Ranboo stuttered to find a response as he pulled himself through the van’s doorway. It was fairly clean even though he hadn’t been in in a few days much to his surprise; Wilbur was never one for cleaning.
“I- no no I didn’t,” Ranboo bent down to stand next to the human; the roof just barely scratched the top of his horns, “Just Uh, looking for something.”
Wilbur tilted his head in curiosity, “What kinda thing?”
“Uh well, not a thing per say,” he scrambled, “Just Uh…I don’t know, probably stupid, but have you seen Tubbo at all recently?”
At that Wilbur’s hands froze; his spatula still laying underneath a patty that needed to be flipped. And even though it was a simple question Ranboo couldn’t help but feel like he’d done something wrong. It was almost like he could see the discomfort emanating from the older man.
“No,” Wilbur frowned, “Havent seen him in a while…Did something happen?”
Ranboo’s fingers tapped against one of the counters nervously, “No, well maybe. Its like he just vanished.”
Wilbur’s hand brushed back through his hair as he put down his spatula on the counter. With his stern face Ranboo could clearly see the hints of Tommy’s expressions. It was easy to forget the two were brothers sometimes.
“Well, when was the last time you saw him?” Wilbur shrugged.
“I don’t know like…a week ago? Maybe more?” Ranboo’s eyes squinted in frustration, “The last time I remember was when you invited him.”
Wilbur froze and turned to Ranboo with a quirked lip, “That was the last time?”
“Yeah, why?” Ranboo frowned, “Whats wrong?”
“Oh nothing,” Wilbur hesitated, his attention flitting back towards the burgers on the grill, “Just thought you’d see him before that.”
Ranboo frowned and stepped closer to the shorter man.
“What do you mean by that?” he scowled.
“Huh?” Wilbur shrugged nonchalantly, “Just that I think that’s weird. You’re close and all.”
Wilbur turned back to the burgers but before he could flip them Ranboo’s hand shot out to grab his coat sleeve.
“Why’s it weird?” Ranboo growled, finally allowing himself to reach his whole height.
Even though he was so much younger he could tell it made Wilbur uncomfortable. As much as the revolutionary pretended he was above everyone he was scared. Ranboo knew how scared he was.
The man had seen death and had no wishes to go back.
“Well,” Wilbur shrugged with a familiar air of fake confidence, “I just played a little prank. Just kinda thought you’d have figured it out already.”
The thudding of Ranboo’s chest felt so loud he was sure Wilbur could hear it. And with every breath the overwhelming feeling that something was wrong made him dizzy.
“Will, what did you do?”
Wilbur laughed nervously, tilting his head to the side. His hands immediately sought out the comfort of his pockets.
“Well, just wanted to study a bit of your enderman biology yaknow?” Wilbur said nonchalantly, “Thought the idea of a second stomach was cool, wanted to see if you had one too.”
The moment the words left the older man’s lips Ranboo felt sickness swirl up in his chest. He tried to hide it by standing up taller, but he was sure Wilbur had already seen the disgust on his face.
“What do you mean?” Ranboo’s eyes narrowed.
Wilbur shrugged again, before a sick grin twisted his face, “Wanted to see if you could keep something alive in there. And Tubbo did say he wanted me to ‘make him a burger’.”
Ranboo was sure he must have been dreaming. It had to be a nightmare or some joke. His brain couldn’t even process the information- every thought stopping before they could reach their dreaded conclusion.
“You,” Ranboo stuttered, “You what?”
“You heard me Ranboo,” Wilbur waved his hand lazily, “You’re not stupid are you?”
The harsh words felt like a slap to his face, and all of a sudden the meaning of it crashed down on him like a wave. He almost wished it was so he wouldn’t have to think about what Wilbur- no, what he had done.
He barely processed as he ran out of the van; Wilbur’s laughter echoed in his eardrums. His feet dug into the muddy ground, still wet from the morning rain, but he just kept running. Even as the wet dirt burned into his skin.
It was only when the bubbling sounds of water hit his ears that his legs slowed.
He had no idea where he was.
He couldnt see the van anymore, or any landmark. There were just endless trees and a lazy blue stream racing through the woods.
Ranboo wheezed out an inhuman sound as his legs collapsed near the riverbank. Everything felt like it was too much. Part of him wanted to throw himself into the river so his enderwalk state could take over. At least then he wouldn’t have to think about what he’d done.
As his eyes stared daggers into the water all he could focus on was the small weight in his stomach that had become more and more obvious.
How had he not noticed?
“Tubbo I’m sorry,” he whispered painfully.
Carefully he pushed his palm against his stomach until he could just barely feel something solid behind his skin. Cursing himself under his breath he focused all his attention on the small boy tucked away in his gut.
He’d been there for too long
He’d swallowed Tubbo only once before, and it had been a mistake while he was enderwalking. He’d apologized profusely, but still Tubbo avoided his touch for almost a week. The enderman couldn’t even walk into their shared room without the tiny’s head shooting up in fear.
It was safe of course, like Wilbur had mentioned he did have a second stomach, but it didn’t help ease the fear that Tubbo had.
The idea that he had kept him there for almost a week made him want to curl up and disappear.
“Hey I’m going to get you out,” he whimpered, hoping for any response, “I’m so sorry.”
He tried to calm his breaths before focusing on the lump in his stomach. The stillness of it made fear curl up in his throat, but he had to get him out. He could worry about that later.
He coughed a couple times before he felt the weight rise to his throat. His throat tightened around it, and within seconds Tubbo’s tiny figure fell out onto his palm.
“Tubbo oh god,” he panicked, “God I’m so sorry please be okay.”
But the tiny didn’t move. He laid still in his hand almost like a doll, and he looked far too pale for Ranboo’s liking. His husband had never felt so small in his hands.
“Please Tubbo,” he frowned, carefully pressing ear against the tiny’s chest.
For a few terrible moments he couldn’t hear anything before a weak breath escaped the boy.
His instincts chirped in relief as he focused in on the tiny’s breathing. He still didn’t move, but he could slowly feel his husband’s body warm up under his touch.
Tubbo was still alive.
And even if he would probably hate him, Ranboo could live with that. As long as Tubbo was safe, he would find a way to move on.
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amor-immortalem · 3 years
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Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever Ch.2
Warning: abuse apologizing, mention of past physical abuse, implied manipulation, abuse minimizing
Taglist: @mediocredetective
Previous
“Here you go Solomon,” Asmo says as they pass the phone to the sorcerer. “Arella says she wants to ask you something. I’ll be back.” And with that the Avatar of Lust took his leave, leaving their older brother with a look of confusion as Solomon moved away from where he literally had the second-born tied down so he couldn’t move. He turned his lapis gaze over to his younger brother who merely shrugged as he went back to chowing down on a bag of crisps he had raided from Purgatory Hall’s pantry.
“Don’t ask me, I don’t know anything,” Beel said with a mouthful of crisps. “I’m going to head home too though. Dinner’s starting soon. Do you want me to try to save you some? It’s Lucifer’s night to cook.”
“Nah... it’ll just go to waste. Lucifer’s still probably mad at me so I doubt he’ll let me inta the house for the rest of the night.” The Avatar of Greed chuckles sadly. “So don’t worry. I’ll see ya tomorrow!”
The Avatar of Gluttony nodded as he left and Mammon impatiently waited for Solomon to come back.
“I’d offer you something to eat or drink but it looks like you’re... a little tied up at the moment.” Simeon tried to break the tension in the room with the unhappy demon.
“Why did ya have ta go ‘n call Arella like that, huh, Simeon?” Mammon asks, eyebrows knit together in frustration. “I told y’all I was fine, my arm was just a bit busted was all. I woulda survived without her knowin’ ‘n now she’s gonna go off the deep end thinkin’ I need ta be saved or some shit like that when I can take care of myself.”
“She loves you, Mammon. All she wants is for you to be happy and safe. You know that.”
“All of ya are makin’ it sound like Lucifer just straight up broke my elbow for shits ‘n giggles when it was an accident. I’m the one who didn’t wait for him ta let go a me before I started pullin’ ta get away, so really it’s my own fault that it’s broken.”
“Yeah, but things like this seem to happen between you and Lucifer a lot- and I mean a lot a lot.”
“Yeah but... he loves me though. He only does things like this because he loves me. I’m his favorite and he just wants me to learn my lesson is all. If I wouldn’t screw up all the time this wouldn’t happen as often- o-or at all even. ‘Sides it ain’t like I’m the only one who ever gets punished. The rest of my brothers all get their punishments too when they screw up. It’s all fair.”
Simeon gave the demon a doubtful look. “You seem to be the only one who gets any physical punishment though...”
“Yeah, but that’s only cuz I’m a blockhead who just doesn’t learn his lesson. I mean the physical stuff only started within the last century- that's when my dear ol’ brother got fed up with wastin’ his breath. You’d think I’d learn by now huh?”
The angel tries to find the words to say what he’s thinking but he can’t, so he just goes about it in a different approach. No wonder Arella worries about him like this. His brother has him completely manipulated into thinking this is acceptable.
“You... you can’t seriously think that, right?” Simeon asks incredulously. “Mammon, this isn’t okay. Regardless of whether your brother actually loves you or not,
“He does,” Mammon interjects.
“He shouldn’t constantly be putting his hands on you for even the slightest of transgressions- especially if it’s due to something you can’t help, like your sin.”
“Of course, it is. C’mon, Simeon, who’re ya kidding? We’re demons! Our morals are different from those of the Celestial Realm or the Human Realm.... That’s just the way things are down here. Do ya gotta like it? No, but y’all gotta accept it.”
“Don’t you think you sound a little... how do I put this... brainwashed?”
“Whaddya mean?”
“Well... I just think maybe you’re so blinded by your love for your brothers that-”
“Hi! I’m back!” Asmo called as they lugged a heavy suitcase behind them. They plopped down on the couch. “Miss me?”
The pair just sort of regarded the strawberry blonde-haired demon as they sat next to their older brother.
“Goin’ somewhere, Asmo?” Mammon asks as he eyes the suitcase, “Wait a minute is that my suitcase?”
“Hm? Oh no, I’m not going anywhere. You are.”
“Huh? I’m not going anywh-”
“Well it was nice talking to you, Arella. I’ll untie him now so you can summon him. We’ll talk in a few weeks, yes?” Solomon promptly reentered the space, “Perfect- oh look Asmo’s back too. I’ll let you go then.” The call ended as Solomon undid the spell binding Mammon to the couch with a wave of his hand.
As Mammon stood, a portal opened up in front of him. “I’m not goin’ through that.”
“And why not?” the angel asks. “I thought you’d be delighted to have the opportunity to go stay with your human for two weeks.”
“Alone. Might I add.” Asmo smirks with a waggle of their brows.
“Shut up, Asmo!” The Avatar of Greed turned a shade of bright red, “Of course, I know we’d be alone! Who else would be there? But....”
“Are you scared Lucifer will be upset that you’re up there without his permission, Mammon?” Simeon asks.
“No! I ain’t scared of Lucifer! What gave you that idea, huh?!”
“You do realize you’re being summoned right? You don’t get much of a choice in that matter. Now, get going before you end up getting pulled through and hurt your arm again.” The sorcerer takes Mammon’s suitcase and tosses it through the portal, leaving the demon to squawk indignantly as he chased after it.
“You suck, Solomon!” Is all that could be heard from the other side of the portal as it started to close and the silver-haired human only rolled his eyes, chuckling amusedly.
“Have fun in the mortal realm, Mammon!”
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The one thing Mammon hates about being summoned is how nearly every time he goes through a portal, he nearly slams into whoever it is that summoned him if they’re standing in his way which is exactly the situation he finds himself in with Arella right now- not a good look for his image, it's very ‘uncool’.
“Hey,” Arella smiles as she wraps her arms around him once they come to a stop.
“Don’t ‘hey’ me. I’m mad at ya.” The demon says with a deep scowl on his face.
“I’m sure you are. How’s your arm feeling? Does it still hurt?”
“I’m fine, Arella. Stop treating me like a kid.”
“Huh?” Arella asks, confused as she removes her arm from around him. “I’m... sorry?”
“Ya should be,” Mammon hums as he turns his back to her. “I told ya everything was fine. Ya didn’t hafta go ‘n do all this. I can take care of myself when it comes to my brothers so I don’t get why you think ya gotta get involved every time I get in a situation with one of ‘em.”
“I just thought... well I guess it doesn’t matter. You’re right.” She walked away headed to where the kitchen was to clean up the mess that had been left from the cup of tea she’d had before all of this.
“Huh? Whaddya mean by that?” The demon followed after her looking to continue their small spat.
“Exactly what it sounds like. You’re right. You can take care of yourself when it comes to your brothers and there really is no need for me to insert myself into the situation but I love you and I hate seeing it happen and not doing anything to defend you so... I’m sorry. If it offends you that much, I won’t do it again.” She says as she washes her cup and the other dishes she had left. “Do you want me to send you home after dinner?”
“I.... no- but not because I don’t want to go back and deal with Lucifer...” The white-haired demon takes a seat at the kitchen island resting his chin on his arms. “I only wanna stay cuz I missed ya...”
“I missed you too...” She rubbed his back as she leaned down to place a kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry you feel like I’m treating you like a kid... if you want to stay the whole time you can treat it... like a holiday of sorts.”
“Where are we anyway? I know ya said ya were sellin’ yer old house...but the air smells different. How far away did ya move? Are we still in England?”
“About that...” She looked away sheepishly, “I kind of told you a little white lie... I sold that house about a month or two ago. What I’ve been doing since then is house-hunting and all the things that go with buying a house in another country... We’re in Germany- Berlin, exactly.”
“You lied? Oh, you’re horrible.” The demon feigns a look of hurt as the human laughs. “But seriously, baby, why would ya move so far away?”
She shrugged. “Wanted a change. I can speak German so why not- it's not like I have any family to miss back in England, anyway.”
He nods at that. “So no one knows where we are?”
“Nope,”
“Not even my brothers?”
“Not even your brothers.” She smiled. “I told you: if we wanted to, we could disappear up here and no one would ever know.” She cupped his face in between her hands. “You don’t have to go back home if you don’t want to...”
“I don’t have to decide right now, do I? You won’t leave if I want to go home, right?”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t ask you to choose between me or the Devildom- there's a lot to give up down there. You can think about it while we’re up here for the next two or three weeks and if you want to go home after then, then I will still be with you, okay? I just want to give you options.”
He nodded as he moved to wrap his arms around her in a tight hug. “Thanks, Doll.”
“Anytime, Baby.” She hummed.
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keltonwrites · 3 years
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Where no one knows your name
How many times is a person meant to make new friends? When I moved into an apartment in DC with an absolutely iconic girl from Craigslist, I wrote in my journal, “you never know when you’ll meet your next bridesmaid.” Charmingly juvenile, as I was 24 years old. Ironic, as I never had any bridesmaids. And embarrassing, knowing I wrote something that’s surely been embroidered on a bachelorette party t-shirt by now. My point was: you can meet people you fall in love with anywhere, anytime, assuming your heart (and calendar) are open. Now my heart and calendar are open and I am one of Elizabeth Bennet’s sad sisters, cloying and desperate for attention while everyone at the ball ignores me. Meeting people here is unnerving and hapless and eye-clawingly vulnerable. My first new friend told me she was moving away in a few months. Do you invest deeply in hopes of another faraway friendship? Do you just go back to waving as you pass on the street? I like this girl! What an embarrassing thing to have to say to someone! Do you just invite people to every and anything like a lunatic? I can’t even remember to call the people I am forever-and-ever in cahoots with. I’m also deeply bound by what I’ll call the Movie Trap: say it’s 3pm during not-a-pandemic, and you get the urge to see a movie. You look at the showings, and there’s one you really want to see at 7:15. You think to yourself, “I should make an effort,” and you text a friend. “Hey, you wanna go see This Cool Movie at 7:15 tonight?” No one ever says yes. Don’t give me an example of when someone has, because it’s always one of these answers:
“Oooh, I’m actually seeing it with Kate tomorrow - wanna come?”
“Can we go to the 9pm showing? Stuck at work.”
“Yeah but let’s see Movie You’ll Fucking Hate instead.”
Now maybe I’m just lighting flares guiding you to the worst parts of my personality, but this drives me nuts. No, Liz, I don’t want to go tomorrow. I want to go tonight. At 7:15. So I can be in bed by 10. And you’d have to drag my dead body and prop open my eyes to get me to see something like Marriage Story in theaters. The Movie Trap is a big reason I usually hang out by myself, or I make plans weeks in advance. (Don't I sound like a blast.) Just the idea of being like, “I like you! Wanna hang out in October?” makes me want to collapse into a puddle of sad adulthood. Which is why on Friday at 4:30pm, when a girl I’d met a week prior asked if I wanted to grab a drink, I just said yes. I put on a pretty dress, did my makeup, put stuff in a purse, and drove the 25 minutes to town. It was really fun! And how novel to have new contacts in my phone like “Maggie blue house” and “Jess concert friend” — a throwback to the days of “Greg guy on L train” and “Devon ad party.” The very concept of not knowing someone’s last name or even needing it, and a year from now updating their contact info and smiling at your origin story. But for the most part, no one is in our phones. In terms of phone numbers collected, here is the list:
Two friends we knew prior who thank god you guys exist.
New friend who is moving away.
New friend who is game to drink tequila and ride mountain bikes.
Neighbor-not-yet-friend who I really fucking like and am not sure how to cross hang-out threshold with.
​Not to say there aren’t any other prospects or people I’m platonically gaga over, but I don’t have their phone numbers. There are honestly a lot of people like this because when you live in a small town (and you’re from the Midwest) you say “oop, sorry” to every person/object you bump into, and you say “hi :)” to every person you see. These are the rules. If I drive by you and don’t wave, it’s because I was so deep in a daydream I probably shouldn’t have been driving in the first place. This isn’t acceptable, because in our urgency to tattoo our vaccination status on our foreheads so we can make friends, it turns out just driving by someone can be a viable strategy. A few days ago, a man was driving by our kitchen window and then our driveway, and then he reversed back up to the kitchen window and started waving. Ben went outside — it was that kind of wave. The man had seen from his car a smokejumper emblem on the back of a truck in our driveway. “Hey, are you a smokejumper?” We aren’t. But my dad was, and he was in town visiting, accompanied by the emblem on the back of his truck. The guy said we should drink sometime. Numbers were not exchanged. We’ll call that a node, because it’s not quite a connection. And it’s mainly nodes, waiting to be connected, to have relevance. But first, no matter who you’re trying to befriend, you have to answer everyone else’s Do I Care Quiz. The quiz is employed by 93% of locals to determine how they feel about you existing within their personal 50-mile radius. The first question is non negotiable:
1) Are you visiting?
Variations on this question include “how long are you in town?” or “what brings y’all to town?” or my least favorite and most insulting, “did you just finish Jeeping?” I know I have blonde hair and say y’all, but how dare you. (Also, to be clear, you can own a Jeep, customize your Jeep, mod out your Jeep, and love your Jeep, but you’re not Jeeping until you drive too fast through a tiny town so you can hurl your Jeep over a mountain pass without ever getting out of it.) So the answer to “are you visiting” is “no, I live here.” Which brings us to the next question, my favorite for how loaded the gun, kneeling in the grass, scope on, target locked it is.
2) Are you part-time or full-time?
The first time I answered this question, I didn’t realize it was essentially like asking how someone voted in the 2020 election. The judgment was cocked and ready and the palpable relief/joy/or at the very least, tolerance, exuded by answering “full-time” was like when the sun comes out from behind the clouds on a 40 degree day. I was fine, but wow that does feel better. The third question though does not have a standard hoped-for answer. This is where nodes turn to connections turn to phone numbers.
3) What brings you here?
It seems like the best possible answer would be saying you work in town, and you’re going to begin construction on displaced-worker housing to ensure the people who run this town can actually live in it. We’d have everyone’s phone number. Saying you’re a writer who works remotely and bought a house from a legendary and beloved local who could no longer afford it is really something you keep to yourself. But in the interest of making friends, I just word vomit my entire history. We might as well find out at the onset if I make your eyes roll back into your skull. Not at all threatening that all it takes is a single social signal misinterpreted to be the absolute death knell of my ability to make friends in a town of some 1400 adults. In fact, I’ll share one such interaction. I was hiking with Cooper, about 5 miles by foot away from my house. I was on a trail, crossing a sloped meadow, and a group was traversing up the hillside to the trail. I said hi, where y’all coming from. One girl answered and we talked about the trail. She eyed me up and down. “Did you just move here?” “I did!” “I served your family last week,” she said. “Oh,” that phrasing. “Must have been my in-laws.” “Heard you bought Jack’s house. Such a bummer when locals like that are forced out.” “We didn’t even know about his house,” I said. “We were looking at another house and he asked his realtor if he could get us to come see his house. We just loved it, and him!” She had no emotional reaction to this. “You moved from California?” she asked. (Dangerous question.) “Yeah, got these sea level lungs, haha,” attempting to disarm with humor was a failure, “but couldn’t be happier to be out of California.” “It’s not like this all year. Winter’s really hard here, you’re in for a rude awakening.” “Well California’s the last place I lived, but I’m not from there. I’ve lived in brutal winters. At least Colorado gets sun!” I laugh with cloaked loathing. “It’s different when you live at altitude,” she said, like no human aside from her had ever been literally anywhere. “Are you trying to go around?” She indicated the path behind her. “No, y’all go ahead, just gonna wait to give you your space. I’m sure you’re faster than me.” “K, good luck making it to the lake." Maybe she was thirsty. Maybe she was hungover. Maybe she just has vicious delivery, but it felt like every blade of grass was leaning against the wind to listen. She was with four other people and not one of them said a word. I left that interaction not wanting to see another human ever again. But that interaction, and her intimate knowledge of exactly which house I lived in, made me want to decorate like we lived in a gingerbread house, all candy canes and plum drops, screaming to any passerby that we’re friendly. One of the mayor’s first questions to me was “what are you going to do to the house?” There are rules here about what your house can look like, and I kept emphasizing we bought the house because we loved it, not because we wanted to change everything about it. And now, instead of wanting to decorate the interior, I want to put up shades so we don’t contribute to light pollution, I want to hang a sign by the water spigot saying “grab some if you need” for hikers and mountain bikers, I want to paint a sign for the wild mint by our door that says, “I mint to tell you to take some,” because our neighbors were openly panicked they wouldn’t be able to just grab mint from the cabin’s garden anymore. Without question, COVID makes things harder. Dinner parties feel like dares. Dropping cookies off at someone’s house feels invasive. Grabbing a drink feels like the ultimate sign of trust. But at least we have nodes who can connect who can think to invite us and who can see that despite having lived in California, we’re not all that bad. In the meantime, I’ll be painting signs about water and mint, hoping to garner the benefit of the doubt from the so beautifully, earnestly, and waiting-to-see-if-you’re-worth-it doubtful.
Subscribe to the newsletter at tinyletter.com/keltonwrites — high altitude relocation and renovation in a tiny mountain town.
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babyurthendofjune · 4 years
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wonderful and warm
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I’m so excited to share this piece with y’all for @tbslenthusiast​‘s dad-a-thon!! I’ve been debating whether or not to expand more on I Want Your Belly for a while now, so I’m considering this part two to that, though you don’t really have to read it first to understand this one. Hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
thank you @peachybloomss​ and @tbslenthusiast​ for beta reading for me! love y’all both!!
word count: 2.6k
//
You had been adamant about not telling anybody for at least the first two months. 
Your mom’s complications with each of her pregnancies prompted a fear in you that you might share in that gene she carried, so you just wanted to be sure. Make it to your first ultrasound at least to confirm the baby was happy and healthy. Harry, of course, had agreed to whatever it was you felt was best. He wanted you to be comfortable and truth is, all the complications or things that could go wrong, terrified him too.
But the second you put this man in front of a crowd, all his previous filters go out the window and it was slipping from his lips easily, telling the world that you were having his baby. You were angry at first, spending half of the show trying to calm your shaky hands. Honestly, most of it was just nervous energy at the idea of so many people knowing. It was out, and you had no control over the reactions of the millions of people that shared in loving your Harry. He was quick to remind you that you were the one he loved, no one else’s opinion mattered to him and it shouldn’t to you either.
Making such a public announcement meant the news reached your families ears a lot faster than you’d planned too, and you just didn’t want any of them to be hurt that they weren’t told first.
Anne is the first one to contact Harry from his side, promptly inviting you to dinner the following weekend with a small group of Harry’s family. But the closer you get to the day, the more anxious you are and he once again reminds you how much his family adores you already, would now love you even more.
“Even more than they love me now, probably,” He chuckles, taking your hand on the drive to his mother’s house, “Gonna be just like any Sunday dinner at Mum’s, innit? We just have something a little extra special t’celebrate now, lovie.”
Gemma answers the door to let the two of you in and she tugs you in for a hug, pulling you into the house without so much as a glance to her younger brother.
“Nice to see you too, Gem.” He follows the two of you inside, shutting the door behind him.
“Ignore him..someone’s just jealous they won’t be Mum’s favorite anymore.” She giggles, rolling her eyes as she leads you into the kitchen where Anne mimics her daughter’s greeting, scolding Harry playfully that he spoiled the surprise so soon.
By the end of the night, the two of them are already making predictions about what the baby will be, giving family name suggestions, and planning a baby shower for you. 
//
Calling your family was a whole new level of anxiety you hadn’t experienced yet on this journey, and you paced back and forth in front of the desk where your iPad was already set up to FaceTime them. Harry sits on the foot of the bed, waiting for your nerves to settle enough to contact them.
“D’you want me to join you?” He doesn’t look at you, just continues to fiddle with one of the buttons on his shirt.
Your head pops up to where he sits, “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?”
He shrugs, “S’just..sometimes I think you might still be a bit mad at me. For letting it slip earlier than we wanted. Thought you might wanna talk to them alone first..in case they’re upset with me too.”
“I was never really mad. And I don’t think they’ll be upset..just may take them a little longer to accept that I didn’t tell them before you told everyone. They may not have even seen it yet.”
That was a lie. Your sister had texted you last night saying that she was thrilled to soon have a niece or nephew, but your mom had cried for a two whole days after they saw a clip from the show and your dad refused to even talk about it. Your brother was normally so far out of the loop that you truly didn’t know if he had heard the news, so you make a mental note to call him later too. 
You wouldn’t tell Harry any of that though, not now anyway. Maybe later, when everything didn’t feel so tense. You knew your family wouldn’t be upset forever, they loved Harry almost as much as you did. The joy of having a new baby added to the family would soon override any hurt they were feeling now.
“Harry, whatever they say..this is still happening. I’m still having your baby. I can’t even begin to tell you how happy that makes me.”
The smile he gives you makes your heart flutter, drawing you closer to sit next to him.
“Say that again.”
“What? How happy I am..”
“No, the part before that.”
A giggle works its way up through your chest, a deep blush flushing your cheeks, “I’m having your baby,” You can’t resist, the tune now stuck in your head, changing the lyric slightly to fit, “It’s none of their business.”
“What? S’your family, of course it’s their..oh, right.” He shares in your laughter, melting away any tension that had settled in the room, restoring your confidence that everything would be alright.
//
As many changes as your body had gone through during pregnancy, one thing that hadn’t changed was Harry’s love for your belly. His obsession had grown with each month, constantly finding reasons to be close to you throughout your days spent together. Usually it was a hand nudged gently against the side of your bump, trying to coax the baby to kick or move for him.
Your child already adored the sound of their dad’s voice, would normally start to wiggle around the second Harry would start talking or singing anywhere around you. The first time it happened, the two of you were attending a birthday party for a friend and Harry was halfway across the room, animatedly telling a story to a group of your mutual friends. It was one of the many reasons you had fallen for him so quickly, his ability to have a room full of people so captivated by a tale you were sure they had heard at least 5 times before. 
But he doesn’t seem to care about anyone else’s reactions, his eyes continuously flicking back to gauge your feedback, knowing which parts make you laugh the hardest no matter how many times you’d listened to him tell it. When your mouth falls open with a soft gasp and a hand clutching the side of your belly, he hurries through the ending to weave his way back through the party to you.
“You okay, love? Somethin’ wrong?” The tears falling on your dress don’t match the glowing smile radiating across your face and he’s turning his head amusingly from where he hovers over you.
“Everything’s great, H. Think someone just loves the sound of daddy’s voice.” You take the drink he still holds in his hand and set it on the table in front of you, turning your body to face him and tugging his wrist down to where you had felt the kick moments before, “Say something else now that you’re closer. See if she moves for you.”
“She? You find out somethin’ you wanna tell me, darlin’?”
“No, just a feeling. Haven’t you thought about which you would rather us have?”
He shakes his head no, his eyes bright with a pride you’ve never seen burn so intensely, “As long as you and they end up happy and healthy in the end, s’all that matters to me.”
He scoots his body to sit on the bench next to you, bending his head to speak softly, “Hello, little one. S’daddy. Mummy’s here too. Wanna move around a bit more f’us?”
He rests his head there for a moment, a hand rubbing along the side of your stomach, not caring who at the party may see the two of you or how silly he may look. He looks like a child who’s just been granted his one and only wish when your baby responds, a foot landing against where his cheek is pressed.
“There you are, baby. You kickin’ at me? Cheeky little thing y’are already..just like mummy, huh?” He turns to kiss the spot where the foot had been, ”We’re g’nna have so much fun when you get here, angel.”
//
Harry watches your feet a lot more closely these days.
You didn't notice it at first. But today as you're coming down the stairs, you catch his eyes watching carefully as he waits for you. One of your hands cradles your bump that seems to be growing daily now, while the other glides along the railing to keep yourself steady.
"Am I wearing mismatched shoes or something?" You lean forward in an attempt to look at your feet over your belly, nearly toppling down the last few stairs. The look on Harry's face would have been comical if it wasn't laced with so much fear as he lunged forward to meet you and help you the rest of the way down.
"Careful!" Even with you settled safely now against his side, his voice is full of worry, "Nothing's wrong with your shoes, honey. Just wanted to make sure you made it down safely, know how clumsy y'are."
"You worry too much, Harry. I would've made it down fine if you hadn't been staring at my feet."
"My girl's carrying my baby..m’allowed to worry about you both. Y'sure I can't convince you to stay home and let me do the grocery shopping this week?"
"No, I wanna go. Last time you forgot the bagels."
"Are you ever gonna forgive me for that?" You're glad to see the fear has fallen away from his face as you both reach the bottom of the stairs together.
"Maybe." You shrug, "Might take a few more kisses though."
"Deal." One of his hands comes to rest warmly on the underside of your belly, the other one still supporting the small of your back as he bends down to place kisses across your face.
A kick from within your stomach has both of you giggling and looking down to where it's pressed between the two of you.
"Are you mad at daddy too, hmm? Already two against one around here, I see. Alright then, baby gets kisses too."
//
“Harry will you please get up? We only have an hour to get ready and make it to the appointment. I don’t wanna be late!”
He rolls over, intending to pull you closer to him for a morning kiss, an important part of his usual routine. He frowns when he finds you’re already out of bed, digging through drawers of your dresser to find what you need to get ready for the day.
You haven’t noticed he’s awake yet so you keep encouraging him, “C’mon, made you breakfast. It’s an important day!”
“You’re not allowed to do that, y’know.”
“Do what?” You’re only half paying attention, tugging a dress over your head and scowling at your reflection in the full length mirror when it doesn’t fit over your belly. You quickly pull it back off and toss it in the pile you’ve already tried (and failed) to stretch over your growing bump.
“Daddy’s s’posed to make breakfast for mummy while she sleeps in, not the other way ‘round.”
“Well, mommy was too nervous to sleep in so she’s up getting ready, as daddy should be!” You tug one of your maternity shirts from a hanger in your closet and throw it over your head, declaring to yourself that it’ll just have to do. Thankfully it pairs well with the black leggings you’ve already struggled through pulling on. You plop on the edge of the bed, a deep sigh falling from your lips as you look around at the mess you’ve made of your shared bedroom.
“Mummy needs to relax. She looks beautiful in whatever she wears, no matter what day it is.” He rubs a hand along your back, up to soothe over the pinch between your shoulder blades.
“Nothing fits anymore, swear this belly gets bigger by the day. If I find out today you put a set of twins in me, Styles, you are gonna be in so much trouble.” 
He throws his head back, a deep rumbling laugh erupting from his chest, “Aww c’mon, lovie. Twins would be so fun! Think we’d get lucky and have one of each? A boy and a girl?” He kisses your shoulder.
He’s pulling you in to rest against his chest now, the fabric of his well worn t-shirt cool and soft on your cheek. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, pressing a kiss firmly to the top of your head.
“Just lay with me a minute, hmm? Did you get any sleep last night? Felt you tossing and turning for half of it.”
“Maybe a couple of hours. I was too nervous.”
“You should’ve woken me. Hate the idea of you being awake and nervous alone, honey.” One hand trails up to cup your chin, a thumb smoothing over the tension set in your jaw.
“I honestly don’t know how you got any sleep. I wasn’t alone though, I think I kept the baby up half the night too.” You shift to face him, resting your chin on his chest, seeking the comfort of his face, “Are you okay? You’re not nervous at all?” 
“M’fine. What’s to be nervous about? We get to see our baby today, find out what it is. I couldn’t be happier about that.” He brushes a strand of hair softly away from your face, tucking it behind your ear.
“Maybe it’s more excitement than nerves. I just felt..restless. Maybe it’s silly, but I just wanted to look nice today too and none of my good clothes fit me anymore.”
“You’ve always been beautiful to me, baby. But now? I’ve never seen anyone look as gorgeous as you look now. S’important to me that you know and believe that as much as I do. I’ll remind you everyday if y’need me to.”
“You really mean that, Harry?”
“‘Course I do. I know this has been new and scary for both of us, and I’m so proud of you. You’ve fallen into this with such ease and grace, already started gettin’ our home ready for our little one. I can’t wait to see you with them when they’re born.”
“You’re gonna be the most amazing dad. Teaching our child kindness and love, reminding them it’s okay to be whatever they choose to be. It’s important to me that you know how much I adore you and seeing you become the dad you were meant to be? It’s gonna be incredible. I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else.”
“Me either. Think I’d be miserable if it were anyone else.” 
“Nah you’d get used to them eventually. Especially if they were having your baby.”
He laughs again, pulling you closer to smush his lips against your temple. 
“Alright, up we get,” He scoots away to push himself up and off the bed, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up, “Let’s go see if our little bub got blessed with your nose or cursed with mine.”
//
You’re over the moon every time you see Harry’s beaming smile when he passes the black and white sonogram photo now proudly displayed on the refrigerator; your son’s nose a perfect mixture of yours and Harry’s.
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iliumheightnights · 3 years
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We have a jedi [22] | Peter Parker x Male Reader
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Fandom: Marvel, Star Wars
Pairings: Peter Parker x male reader, Tony Stark x son reader
Summary: Thanos was successful in using the infinity stones, yet here M/n is. Now it’s time to see what remains and pick up the pieces.
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
…..
And I...am Ironman.
When (M/n) opened his eyes, he opened them to the stars.
For a long time, (M/n) laid on his back staring up at the endlessness of space. The stars gave him comfort as his mind was still swirling. What happened? Where was he? Then it all came rushing back to him. Mandalore, Kren, Thanos, ashes....Peter.
Sitting up he expected to see the rest of Mandalore around him, or at least A planet. But to his surprise he only saw more space. Space and the familiar white markings that he had seen before. The world between worlds.
The force is a conduit. Made up of all living things.
He could hear voices of many people surrounding him. Some he recognized, others he didn’t. Some were things he had heard, others not. He wondered if these were his memories...or things yet to be said.
“(M/n)?”
That voice wasn’t like the others. That one sounded...closer. Much closer. It was also a voice he recognized but was different. Turning his head, he saw a young Mirialan woman. While she might have grown a bit (M/N) would recognize his friend anywhere.
“Sheyo?  You look-”
“Oh don’t you give me that crap (M/n), I don’t need you calling me old now.” She laughed and helped get him off the ground. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”
“Why? And why are you-”
“Old? Well that’s what happens when you grow up.”
“But-”
“(M/n), you’ve been gone for seven years.”
He stopped any sort of questioning. Just taking in and absorbing the knowledge of what he had just learned. “Seven years? But- how? I was just fighting on Mandalore and-” He shook his head as a voice spoke around them. It didn’t come from Sheyo.
We are all one.
The Force. Looking around (M/n) took another look at where he was. The world between worlds, that’s how he missed seven years. The world between worlds was outside of time and space, and Sheyo had just pulled him from what most certainly would have been his death.
“Come on. We should go. I have a feeling that someone or something else is trying to get here. The longer we stay the easier it is for whatever.”
The sound of thunder boomed in the distance shaking both of them. Who knew what was coming but neither wanted to stick around to find out. (M/n) followed Sheyo, for she looked like she knew where she was going.
“So seven years...what have I missed?”
Sheyo snorted. “A lot. Half the universe...just gone. The people call it the decimation, the avengers call it the snap. Afterwards people tried to pick up the pieces...the Republic and Empire, at least what remained, blamed each other of course and kicked up the war. The sith ended up fighting each other and pretty much killed each other. The jedi...the jedi are pretty much gone now.”
(M/n) could feel the sadness in her voice and in her heart. Even he couldn’t help but feel sad. He grew up amongst the jedi and now it was just gone? How did things change so much?
“What about my mom and dad? Are they okay?” He asked her. She stopped and turned to him.
“Tony’s alright. He tried to stop Thanos before but...couldn’t.” Then she averted her eyes. “Master Janai is gone. One of the jedi taken, I’m sorry (M/n).”
(M/n) felt his heart fall a bit. Sure he and his mother had a bit of a rocky patch there...but it was nothing that shook his love for her. Now she was gone. But...but his dad was still alive. He would get back to him. Then (M/n) ran his hand across his sash realizing something.
“Peter. What about Peter Parker? You remember him right Sheyo? What happened to him?” He already knew the answer, he just didn’t want to admit it. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps Peter was alive.
But the look in Sheyo’s eyes broke that hope. “I’m sorry (M/n).
(M/N) quickly wiped his eyes of the tears. “Its...we can’t stay. Let’s keep going.” The sound of thunder could be heard again and soon lighting seemed to strike. “Now.”
Sheyo and him took off running. Both could feel they were overstaying their welcome. The thunder and lightning continued to grow rapidly.
I am eternal.
Whose voice was that? (M/n) had never heard that before. It was cold, it was dark, it was sinister.
It was hatred incarnate.
“Hurry! This one!”
Sheyo ran towards a portal that...seemed to have his dad’s arc reactor on it. She jumped through and (M/n) followed her. When he landed on his feet, he could feel that he was no longer in the world between worlds. Looking up he knew exactly where he was...the Jedi temple back on earth. The one he had found T3.
However (M/n) felt...terrible. It was like there was a large void in the force. He grabbed his stomach feeling like at any moment it would fall out. Sheyo must have taken notice for she quickly put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I should have warned you.” He waved her off. “I just...need to adjust.”
She nodded and took her hand away from him. “Yeah...yeah okay. Just remember you’ll be okay.”
While Sheyo was a comfortable and familiar presence, there was something else that was familiar and brought him joy. Bwoo? T3. Looking up he saw the little droid wheel towards him. As the droid caught sight of him, it danced in its place. Bwwweeeepp! 
“T3!” With a smile, (M/n) could feel his energy pouring back into him as he ran to his old companion. “Oh buddy. Sorry I’ve been gone for so long.”
Bwoop Bweep?
“No I didn’t die. It’s...a long story.”
Bwoop.
(M/n) turned and saw Sheyo staring at the mural. The same mural he had been attached to the first time he came.
“The father, son and daughter. The ones.” He said on relex. He had learned more about them during his time in the jedi temple but not much was known about them.
Sheyo smirked. “Good you remember. This mural is one of the portals to the world between worlds.” She brought her hand up and focused, soon the mural illuminated and moved. Then the light died down and the children had become submissive to the father. “There. It’s closed now. No one will be able to come through without having to reopen it.”
Sheyo wiped her hand and gestured for him and T3 to follow her. As they were walking through the temple, (M/n) couldn’t help but think of the first time he was there with the avengers. Who was left? His father was alive, but Peter wasn’t. Who else of his family had been taken from him?
Exiting the front entrance to the temple he saw a republic shuttle. (M/n) also noticed how the world seemed...sad. The sky was grey and the temperature was cold. This was a world in mourning...in mourning for seven years. T3 beeped and rolled up the ramp of the shuttle, Sheyo stopped at the ramp and turned back to him.
“Are you ready? Ready to go home?” She said with a smile.
Home. He was going home. Or whatever was left of it anyways.
“Without a doubt.”
The shuttle ride was...quiet to say the least. When the shuttle flew over New York City, (M/n) couldn’t help but see and feel just how different life was now. Before when he was in New York, it was beautiful. It was colorful and filled with life. Now as they flew over, it was dark and grey, cold and empty
“It’s so...depressing.”
Sheyo nodded. “It’s so strange. Here the largest city looks empty, but on coruscant it’s almost like nothing happened. I guess...the galaxy moves on.”
“It shouldn’t have to.”
It took a bit longer but eventually the shuttle left New York City and entered the forests of the state. (M/N) noticed how it was a stark contrast to how it was like in the city, the forests were still living, breathing, regrowing. Eventually Sheyo sat down the shuttle.
“T3 and I will stay here. This should be your time.”
(M/n) nodded and walked down the ramp. Leaving the shuttle, he saw the forests around him but noticed how there was a house not far from him. Walking towards the house, he saw how it was by a large lake and the force seemed to be swirling around this place.
The door of the house opened and (M/n) watched as his dad walked out holding a platter of sandwiches carrying them to a table. “Lunch!” He stopped walking to take in the sight, there he was, his dad. Tony hadn’t seemed to have changed much except now his hair had a bit of grey in it and his eyes held a bit of sadness in them.
The door opened again and (M/n) almost lost his breath at the sight. There was Steve, not in his cap suit but in regular civilian clothing holding a boy in his arms. He didn’t even need to ask any questions to know what happened with them. It was obvious they finally got together...and had a kid now.
As the three of them went to have their lunch, the boy caught sight of (M/n).
“Daddy who’s that?”
Tony and Steve both followed where the boy’s finger was pointing, directly at him.
Tony’s eyes met his and in that moment, that’s what made (M/n) realize, he had been gone for seven years. Tony slowly left the porch and began walking to him before stopping as if he was seeing a ghost. In a way he was.
“H-hi dad.”
Tony’s eyes filled with tears and he quickly pulled his son in for a hug. (M/n) held onto him just as tight. It hadn’t been long for (M/n) but touching his dad and smelling his cologne was a welcome feeling to him.
“W-how?”
“It’s a long story. Hope you don’t mind me staying a bit.”
Tony chuckled and shook his head. “No. Please, I don’t want you to ever leave again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
...
A/N: How you guys doing? Hope y’all are loving it so far. It took me a bit to get this one out but hopefully it was worth it. We’re about to go into major AU territory now.
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harringrovetrashrat · 4 years
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(We had a romcom month in Nov and y’all are gonna be subject to my bs.  This one is While You Were Sleeping inspired)
Steve groaned when there was knocking.
“Tommy, for the last time, no, you can’t move in, no I’m not in black underwear, and no--” He swung the door open to a smiling Billy, one eyebrow raised teasingly.  Steve flushed.  “Sorry, thought you were Tommy.” He said, shoving his hands into his pajama pockets.  Billy chuckled.
“Happens all the time,” he said.  He stood there a moment before ducking his head and licking his lips, wry smile on his face.  “Can I come in?”
“Oh, yeah!” Steve chirped, moving out of the way so Billy could enter.  He moved into the living room, letting Billy follow.  “Sorry,” he said with a wince, gesturing to the mess.  Billy shrugged.  It was quiet a moment before Billy cleared his throat and pointed at Steve’s chest.
“Deciding on ties?” He asked.  Steve looked down, looked at the navy blue, dark green, and coral neckties he had on.
“Oh,” Steve chuckled, pulling them off.  “Yeah, just uh, just seeing what will work.  For tomorrow.” Steve stared at Billy, taking him in.  Billy was looking at the clothes Steve had laid out, at the options he’d pulled out for the impromptu wedding.  It made his heart clench, made his lungs feel heavy.  He wanted Billy to say something.  “What did--”
“I’m sorry,” he said, face set.  “For all the trouble I gave you.” Steve’s words were stuck in his throat as Billy spoke.  “I’m gonna be really happy to, to call you my brother in law,” he said, smiling at Steve.  It didn’t reach his eyes quite right and Steve wanted him to fucking say something.  Billy hummed softly and pulled a small package out of his pocket.  “Oh, I got you a wedding gift,” he said.
“Yeah?” Steve’s voice was soft and Billy looked up at him through his lashes.  Steve gently took the present, unwrapping it carefully.
“I saw it in the window on a job and just--”
“Billy,” Steve breathed.  It was a snow globe.  Nothing fancy, but it was of Florence.  Steve shook it, watching the snow fall.  “Billy I--”
“Anyway--”
“Tell me a reason why I shouldn’t marry Heather,” he said, cutting Billy off.  “Tell me a reason and I won’t.”  Billy froze, gaze sad.  But, he didn’t say anything.  Didn’t utter a peep.  Steve gripped the snow globe tighter and smiled, nodding reflexively to the rejection, trying to push through the way it felt like his heart was breaking.  “Okay.  Yeah.”
“Steve,” Billy said, voice soft.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?  At the--” Steve took a breath.  “At the ceremony.” Billy looked like he wanted to say something, wanted to say a lot of things.  But again, he didn’t.  Just nodded and put his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah,” he replied, voice quiet.  “Tomorrow.” Steve shut the door behind Billy as he left, leaning his forehead against it to cry.  He took shuddery breaths, tried not to cry the day before his wedding, but for once, he couldn’t stop the tears.
--
Steve couldn’t believe he was late.  Couldn’t believe he was going to be late to his own wedding.  Yeah, maybe he wasn’t looking forward to it as much as he would have been a month ago, but he didn’t want to be late.  He skidded into the hallway and quickly found the room where everything had been set up.  Hop and Joyce were standing and talking, Murray was just sitting and watching the show, and Billy--
Billy was standing and waiting on Heather’s side.  Because of course he was her Man of Honor.  Steve walked in, waving.  He made it halfway down the aisle before he realized he’d left his jacket on.  So he ran back, put it on the hook, and walked down the aisle towards the family again.
“Finally!” Hopper boomed, smiling.  “You didn’t get cold feet did you?” Steve chuckled and shook his head.
“No, no.  Let’s uh, let’s do this.” Steve nodded to the rest of the family and looked at Billy.  Billy looked away from him as soon as they locked eyes and Steve once more wished for a lot of things.
Music began and Steve watched Heather walk down the aisle, Hopper leading her along.  They were smiling and Heather pulled her IV along, beaming at Steve.  He smiled back, thinking about how she and Billy had the same dimples.
Then the priest had started to speak and Steve looked in Heather’s eyes and--
“I object,” he said quietly.
“He what?” Hopper said, leaning forward.  Heather just blinked, tilting her head.  The priest gave him a quizzical look.
“We haven’t gotten to that part yet,” he said.
“I’m sorry but I can’t do this,” Steve said, letting go of Heather’s hands and stepping back.  “I--” He looked at the family.  “I’ve been lying to you.  To all of you.  And I can’t go through with this when I love--” He looked at Billy, heart slamming against his ribcage.  Billy stared, jaw slack.
“Billy?” Hopper groaned.  “Boy, what did you do?” Billy snapped out of his shock, furrowing his brow.
“What did I do?  I didn’t do anything!”
“He didn’t!” Steve cut in.  Everyone fell silent again.  “He didn't.  This is all on me, okay?  I’m not.  I’ve never been Heather’s fiancee.” The family collectively blinked.  “There was a miscommunication when she arrived and I didn’t correct them and then you guys came and--” He choked up a little, anxiety and regret filling him.  “You were all so lovely,” he  breathed out.  “A big, loving family that annoyed each other and ragged on each other but still loved each other at the end of the day.  I never… My parents stopped living at home when I was 13.  They didn’t stay at home with me for more than a week at a time.  I’ve never had real, good family in my life and…” He looked at them, all in varying degrees of shock.  “I fell in love with all of you,” he said, voice soft but strong.  Sure.  “And I was selfish and held onto it for too long.  Let this keep going when Heather doesn’t even know me.” He looks at her then, finding her smiling, even if it was sad.  Steve had let go of her hands during his little speech, but he took one again.  “I’m sorry,” he said to her.  “It was unfair to you and-- I’m just sorry.” Steve looked at Billy, who seemed unsure if he was shocked, angry, sad, or happy.  Steve understood that.  “I’m sorry to you too, because somewhere along the way of falling in love with your family, I fell in love with you as well.  And it wasn’t fair to… To want that when you didn’t know the truth.”
Before anyone could say anything else, the door burst open.
“I object!” A short, redheaded woman yelled from the doorway.
“Anyone else?” The priest asked, annoyed and ready to go home.
“Who are you?” Hopper demanded, brows drawn together.
“I’m Heather’s real fiancee!” She snapped, stomping down the aisle.  Heather’s eyes bugged out.
“Carol?  You said no!” She protested.
“Yeah, well I changed my mind--”
“What the fuck?” Joyce mumbled, pressing a dainty hand to her forehead.  The family got mixed up in the commotion and Steve quickly slipped out before anyone could pay him any mind.  It was easier that way.  He could slip out of their lives as easily as he slipped in and let them get back to normal.
--
Steve scratched a line on his notepad with his pen, cheek resting on his hand.  The day was slow, most people quietly bustling their way along in the cold of Chicago.  He sighed, letting his head fall forward to the desk.
“Listen,” Robin said from behind him, spinning around in her chair.  “It’s literally painful watching you mope.  Let’s get drinks tonight or something.” Steve didn’t look over his shoulder, just shrugged.
“Not feeling it,” he mumbled.  Robin sighed.  She opened her mouth to say more, maybe snark some sense back into him, when she saw a group approaching.  Steve still had his head down, shoulders slumped as he tried to make himself small.
It had been a long week since everything and Steve was tired.  Was tired, was sad, and didn’t really want to exist.  He’d been looking at plane tickets while holding Billy’s snow globe like some sort of creep for most of the week.  If he imagined being able to bring Billy along, no one else needed to know.  But it was the only thing he could think of to do.  To take some steps to enjoy his life, even if he had to do it alone.
He really didn’t want to do it alone.
There was a clink in front of him and he grabbed the change, not looking up or even saying his customary hello.  Once he had the pass printed, he slipped it back under the window and a hand quickly placed itself on top of his.  Steve’s breath caught.  He knew those fingers.  Knew those rings.  He’d memorized them.
Blue eyes were gazing down at him when he looked up, mouth opening in shock.  Billy smiled at him, small and hopeful.  Hopper and Joyce were doing a particularly bad job of hiding behind the pillar and watching.  Murray and Max had foregone trying to hide and were just watching, smiling at the sight.  Steve’s mind was racing.  Were they here to tell him off?  Were they mad?  Were they--
“Wanna go on a trip with me, pretty boy?” Billy asked, voice gentle and loving and everything Steve had been wanting to hear for the past month.  He gaped, mind working too slow to catch up.  Billy looked a little nervous at his silence, obviously chewing on the inside of his lip.
“Oh my god,” Robin said as the silence dragged on too long. “He so fucking does.  Please, take his moping ass on a date so I don’t have to drown him myself.”
“Robin!” Steve hissed, turning red.
“You’ve literally been depressed all week and it’s been bringing my vibe down.” Her look softened as she smirked, small and just at Steve.  “Go get your man.  I’ll cover for you.”
Steve could have kissed her.
Instead, he stood, shoving the door to the booth open and jumping the turnstile to cup Billy’s face and pull him into a kiss.  Billy’s hands settled on his waist as he smiled against Steve’s lips.  Joyce let out a Yes! that was probably louder than it should have been, but Steve didn’t care.  Didn’t think about anything except the lips pressed against his.  When he pulled back, Billy was smiling, bright and happy and Steve loved him.
“I’d go anywhere with you, Blue.”
64 notes · View notes
for-a-muse-of-fire · 4 years
Text
oh, but you’re good to me
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the wench and the witcher
"oh, but you’re good to me”
Fandom: The Witcher (2019)
Paring: Geralt of Rivia x Black!OFC - Zahra Auberel. Platonic!Jaskier x Zahra.
Summary:  Midaëte brings the height of summer, and a reconciliation. 
Warnings: Rated Mature due to brief mention of sex. Please don’t interact if you are under the age of 18.
A/N: Well, what started as a simple reader insert character grew into a fully-formed OC through the course of this series. And now we have reached the end! Well, mostly. I have some random outtakes and drabbles that I’m sure will crop up, but my (eventual) multi-chapter will feature Geralt and Zahra as they navigate some... interesting magical developments. 
But, for now, I call this the end of The Wench and The Witcher. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, reblogs, likes - this is honestly the most I’ve written in years and knowing that y’all have enjoyed it warms the cockles of my heart. Title and lyrics under the cut from Hozier’s “Would That I” which I think might be my favorite Hozier song full-stop, hands down. 
@coconutxraikage - @onyour-right - @ly–canthrope - @kianya-loves - @c-s-stars - @gczanetti1 - @alwaysnatz - @agniavateira - @owillofthewisps​ - @hina-chans-stuff - @yespolkadotkitty​ - @wastingmypotential​ - @inber​
With each love I cut loose, I was never the same Watching still-living roots be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Layin' waste to my lovin' long ago
“Contracts from the butcher and the miller,” Lucja rattles off. “And Jaskier returned your message – says he’s very much looking forward to performing for the solstice festival.”
 She gives a hum as she thumbs through the stack of papers on the desk. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you, as well,” she teases.
 Lucja’s pretty round face goes pink, making her employer grin. The older woman pauses when she finds an unfamiliar piece of folded parchment among the stack of invoices. Slim brown fingers unfold the sharply folded letter and suddenly her heart is in her throat. “Lucja… where did this come from?”
 “Oh… it, ah, came with Jaskier’s reply. Do you want me to get rid of it?”
 Though half-tempted to let Lucja burn the letter, she bites her lip and shakes her head. “No,” she murmurs. “Thank you, Lu’ – that will be all.”
 Her young barmaid flashes a sympathetic smile and closes the door behind her. The neatly looped scrawl of the letter makes something around her heart ache. She’d always been surprised by how tidy the Witcher’s handwriting was:
 I don’t
 This isn’t what
 I’m not – fucking shit fuck 
 The first time I saw you, it was like walking into the light of the sun after half a lifetime in the cold. And it was so fucking cold that night.
 You were like summer.
 It’s cold again now, without you. I don’t know what I’m doing
 Two weeks later:
I wanted want wanted to bring you to see Kaer Mohren. I know you said you like the ocean more than the mountains, but I think this place could change your mind. You would get on with Eskel like a house on fire. He’s more of a southerner, like you.
 I told him about the time you tried to teach me to cook and he nearly pissed himself laughing.
 Lambert’s a shit. Vesemir already likes you.
 You’d like it here. The kitchen is nearly as big as the whole front room of the tavern. Library’s bigger.
 Garden’s a fucking nightmare, though.
 We could go to the ocean, too. Anywhere you want.
 The missives don’t come with any real regularity. A few at a time, a week-long gap, but they never stop. She thinks about writing back, at first, but deciphering where the Witcher is would likely be impossible and… gods, she’s still so damned angry. The White Wolf receives no reply.
Regardless, the letters keep coming.
 The thing is, I don’t know what else there is besides The Path - this life of slaying monsters and getting paid in coin. I was told that was all I needed and I believed it for a very long time. There was nothing to challenge that, not until I met you.
 You were are so fucking beautiful. And warm, and bright, and vulgar, and kind, and a pain in my ass and I should have told you how much you meant to me, but I couldn’t parse it out until just now, and I am an idiot. And a coward. I thought that telling myself you were an amusement would be enough, that I would be content with warming your bed, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t keep lying about how much I need you.
 I need you, Zee. It feels like I’m missing my fucking sword arm.
 The words on the page blur together. She brushes them with her fingertips, almost smiling even as the tears catch in her lashes:
 I miss the way you laugh at Jaskier’s dirty songs.
 I miss the way you used my legs to keep your feet warm at night.
 I miss that fucking rabbit stew.
 I miss the way you’d look at me when I walked in the door.
 I miss the sounds you make when I’m inside of you. The way you taste.
 I miss your eyes. And your smile.
 Your voice. Your terrible fucking singing.
 You are my home. You’re my harbor and my safe haven.
 I love you. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.
   ---
Midaëte approaches. With it, a week’s worth of festivities, and food and drink, leading up to the day of the solstice. It means early mornings in the kitchen and late nights in the tavern. The evenings are balmy, windows and doors thrown open to allow the scent of summer air and night-blooming flowers to drift through.
 For a time, she is so busy that she forgets to be heartsore. Geralt’s letters – page after yellowing page – sit tied with a gold ribbon in her desk drawer. Confessions and apologies, promises and rambling stories that she keeps picking up to read again and again. It’s a veritable book, more than he’d ever seen fit to say in person and she’s not sure whether to be infuriated or hopeful, but there’s barely time. Thank the gods.
  Business booms, between trades-folk coming in for the market day, then musicians, then families. She drinks a little, dances when there is time; she lets Lucja weave tiny yellow purple flowers into her hair for Midaëte Eve and dresses in white and yellow to enjoy the evening. Or try to, at least. The main room is full almost to bursting, patrons laughing, carousing, and eventually spilling out into the courtyard to dance in the falling dusk.
 Zahra watches from the doorway. A few try to tempt her into the circle for a reel and they receive a grateful smile with her refusal. Jaskier, however, will not be deterred.
 “You, dear lady,” he croons. “Look too lovely to be hiding in the shadows.”
 “Jas…”
 “One dance. Just one – you might even have fun by mistake.”
 She rolls her eyes, but the bard just grins and lifts her hand for a kiss. He leads her, hand-in-hand out to the courtyard; Jaskier gives a nod to his fellow players and they begin with a sharp beat that eases into a lovely, familiar melody.
 “You know this one, ducky?” Jaskier queries with a smile. She nods and he takes the lead.
 It’s a simple step, to start with. A sweet back and forth to match the sweet, flowing verse of the song. The touch of Jaskier’s hand on her low back offers guidance, keeps her moving in gentle circles around him until the real movement begins. Swinging, agile steps carry Zahra and her partner around in wide loops. The mingle with other dancers, threading hands to spin back together and then apart.
 Jaskier grips her waist across the front, and she follows suit. The dizzying spin turns the world into a wash of summer colors for a moment and she can’t help but laugh. It feels good to be light again.
 The bard turns her under his arm and into the hands of the next man. There’s a moment of hesitation, a moment where she considers bowing out and going back to her corner, but the tabor still thrums in her blood and it’s such a beautiful night.
 Still smiling, she curtsies, and is lead back through the steps again. Her partner leads easily, light of foot and loose of tongue – from her ale, more like than not – but he’s kind, and sweet, and so funny that she’s nearly in tears when she’s suddenly spun away to her next partner. She catches the fabric of her skirts to add a flourish to the spin; the soft yellow cotton dances with her.
 When spins to a stop, she sees black, at first. Matte black buttons, black tunic shirt – worn, but cleaner than it usually is. The silver wolf’s head medallion sparks in the torchlight.
 Zahra looks up into the face of Geralt of Rivia and the music goes dull behind the roar of blood in her ears. It feels a bit like standing on a ledge cliff and looking down to gauge the fall. She feels dizzy, and terrified, and wonderfully breathless. Heart in her mouth, she spies Jaskier out of the corner of her eye.
 The bard grins. Bastard.
 “Zahra…”
 The Witcher’s voice rumbles through her like soft summer thunder. Strong fingers grip hers, and he lifts her knuckles to his lips. His honey-gold eyes are more earnest and honest than she’s ever seen them – he asks the question without moving his lips. Zahra nods.
 Geralt leads her in the dance and everything falls away.
  She hears the music, feels it sing through her, but her focus remains on the white-haired mutant at her side. His hand spans her back, warm through her dress and stays; the lightest pressure of his fingertips, or palm, guides her to turn, or step, or pivot in time with him. It shouldn’t be surprising to her, how well he moves – she’s seen him fight, and his grace with a sword, and how would dancing be any different?  He doesn’t look away from her once and the heat of his gaze flushes over her. The Witcher very nearly smiles.
 Geralt turns her under his arm, guides her through the last few measures of the song. He steps away, takes his warmth with him, and bows. Zahra curtsies in return.
 The crowd, the rest of the world, rushes back over them. The townsfolk whistle, and stomp, for a moment determined to swarm in and start up another country dance, and Geralt grips her hand tight for a moment. She sees him hesitate before he asks, simply, “Can we talk?”
 Most of the party has spilled into the streets, leaving the tavern itself practically empty. Lucja still keeps to her spot behind the bar, green eyes going wide when she spies Zahra and her guest in tow. The girl’s pretty face splits into a knowing smile that makes Zahra’s face go hot.
 It’s mostly dark in her study. The small hearth fire has gone to smoldering embers, and it gives her the opportunity to light a few candles and collect her utterly scattered thoughts. She flicks out the last taper and finally looks up at Geralt. He stands just inside the closed door, just as he used to. It’s familiar – it feels like it’s been years, or decades, or maybe just a few hours. His honey-colored gaze still holds a heat that sings over her skin. She drops her eyes to the desk.
 The last letter sits there, creased and folded from how many times she’s read it. Zahra picks at the parchment. Keeping her focus on Geralt’s neat lettering seems easier than looking at the Witcher himself. “Did Jaskier put you up to this?” she teases half-heartedly.
 Geralt exhales on a chuckle. “Something like. Threatened to garrote me with a lute string.”
 She smiles, in spite of herself. When she lifts her head and meets his eyes, it takes a moment to catch her breath. For a few heartbeats, she simply stares. Gods, he is still so beautiful. She swallows hard and feels her throat go dry.
 “Did you mean what you wrote?” she asks.
 “You know I did, Zee.”
Gold eyes go guarded again. He doesn’t go totally cold, but she can see the way he builds up his walls to prepare for the worst. He steps forward. Second-guesses – stops.
 “What I do – what I am – I can’t change it,” he rumbles. “I’m still a Witcher, Zahra. A mutant. I can’t… I can’t give you normal, sweetheart – ”
 “Gods, Geralt - fuck normal.”
 ---
 “Fuck normal.”
 She says it with such passionate certainty that it startles a laugh out of him. The soft yellow of her skirt floats like woven sunlight around her legs. Like the sun, it almost hurts to look at her, but fuck all, that’s all he wants to do. He watches her face, watches her chew her lip; feels his slow pulse try to speed up when she steps closer. His fingers itch to curl around her waist.
 “I never asked for normal, Geralt,” she whispers. The way her voice cracks pulls tight around his heart. “I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s it. Can… can you give me that, or no?”
 The Witcher’s footfalls carry him to her. He studies her face; re-acquaints himself with the curve of her cheek and the dimple that presses there. She all but melts into his touch when his thumb brushes her cheek. He pulls her into the circle of his arms. She’s still soft, and warm; he closes his eyes, feels his muscles go lax with relief when she holds fast, locking her arms around his back. Geralt presses his face against the smooth curve of her shoulder.
 It feels like stepping into the light of the sun after ages in cold and rain. “I love you, Zahra,” he breathes.
 Her soft, tearful laugh settles warm into his heart. “I love you, Geralt.”
 He gives a pleased murmur, lets the tip of his nose trail lazy circles over her shoulder. When he inhales, the warm, soft smell of her skin eases back into his lungs. From shoulder to neck, the Witcher draws in slow breaths and ghosts his lips over the exposed skin he finds until Zahra shivers. “What are you doing, Witcher?” she whispers, breathless.
 “Hmm… taking your scent back,” he mumbles. “I missed this smell.”
 His lips ease along the shell of her ear. She still gasps when he nips at the crux of her jaw. “I missed you, love,” he growls.
 Geralt takes his time. He savors the smell and the taste of her skin, humming lowly when Zahra’s hands grip at his back. The sweetness of her begins to bloom with heat, with the richness of desire – want – and when he sets his teeth gently against her pulse point, she moans delicately.  Insistent fingers tangle in his hair; she whispers his name and pulls him to her lips. She kisses him like a woman starved and it feels like his heart might thunder its way free of his chest. He lifts her onto the edge of the desk and comes to stand between her parted thighs, gathering the soft yellow cotton of her skirts up. Her fingers yank at the buttons on his trousers.
  It’s a quick, desperate of coupling. Mingled breath and bitten off sighs – greedy kisses with fingers gripped in the front of his shirt. She flutters hotly around his cock with a whimper and a curse. He groans against her mouth when he comes. Zahra drinks down the noise with a grin on her lips.
 Geralt stays put for more than a year. It’s good.
 The Path still calls, and he still follows, but she finds she’s able to let go of the fear. It’s no longer a question of ‘if’ but ‘when’ in terms of Geralt’s return. And if he knows it’s going to be a long journey, or if the mood simply strikes him, he writes -
 I miss you.
 I love you.
 Sometimes no more than a line, sometimes full paragraphs – even pages –  but he always tells her when he plans to return. When he’ll be home.
 It’s nearly spring next time he rides back in, market day in full swing as he passes through the township gate with Roach at his side. Vendors call their wares, families and merchants wander the stalls as he peers out from the shadow of his cloak. He finds the trail of Zahra’s scent past the cloying smell of cut flowers and rounds to corner to find her chatting with the butcher’s daughter.
 The younger woman catches his gaze. Geralt watches the girl grin and give his woman – his woman – a nudge, nodding in his direction. Zahra is already smiling when she turns, and the Witcher has the pleasure of watching her face flash from surprise to joy in the space of a heartbeat. She moves to him, a walk that becomes a jog, and then a final sprint that launches her into his arms. He curls his free arm tight around her waist. Immediately, he has his face pressed to her hair. Zahra’s laughter rings softly in his ears when she draws back, just enough to look up into his face.
 At her throat, the polished wolf’s tooth is bright against her brown skin. “Welcome home, my love,” she murmurs.
 The greeting settles warm over him like the sunlight. Geralt pulls her close again, kissing her in full view of half the town. She shivers sweetly in his arms and pulls her fingers through his hair. He hears a wolf-whistle, and a smattering of applause that makes Zahra giggle against his mouth.
 “People are staring,” she teases softly.
 He smirks. “Let them,” he tells her before kissing her once more. She tastes of clover honey.
 She smells of sunshine.
 She feels like home.
94 notes · View notes
pleasereadmycrap · 4 years
Text
And They Were Roommates Pt. 3
Pairing: Ransom x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: attempted sexual assault, drinking
Tags: @dark-night-sky-99
A/N: I’m sorry. I know it’s been a while since I updated, but here’s a new chapter. I hope y’all enjoy it. Also if you want to be added to the tags for this story just let me know.
Later that night, you were sitting on a stool at the bar of some club that your friends had dragged you to. You had danced for a while, hoping to forget your fight with Ransom, but all you could think about was Ransom at home sitting all alone in your apartment. You had told the girls that you were going to get the next round, but instead you found yourself hunched over your 4th martini, and you had yet to return to the dance floor. You realized that you were wobbling on your stool and how hot the air inside the club was and you thought that some fresh air would do you some good.
You shivered as you stepped outside. You knew that it was hot inside the club, but you hadn’t realized just how hot it was. You wrapped your arms around yourself and stepped further away from the door. You walked along the side of the building with your hand on the wall to steady yourself, eager to escape the harsh lights of the front of the club
You slipped into a dark alley around the corner, and you were glad to have a moment of peace and quiet away from the hustle and bustle of the club. As you slumped against one of the cool stone walls, two more people entered the alley behind you. They were both tall men. One had dark hair; the other had light. You immediately struck with unease when you saw them. It was something about the way that they were walking.
“Hey,” the dark haired one said with a deep Southern drawl as they drew closer to you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be dancing in there?”
“I just uh- needed some air,” you said in an unsteady voice
“And it’s just our luck that you did,” said the blonde haired one.
“I’m sorry. I don’t think that I understand.”
“It’s just that me and my buddy agreed that you’re the prettiest girl that we’ve seen in a while,” the blonde said as he nudged his pal in the ribs.
“Yeah, and we couldn’t let an opportunity like that get away,” his friend added.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that you’re so pretty,” said the blonde one as he reached out to stoke your cheek. You shuddered at his touch and tried to back away, but you were already against a wall.
“I’m sorry. I really should be getting back to my friends,” you said as he tried to push past the two of them.
“Oh, but baby, we were just getting started,” the dark haired man sneered as he grabbed your arm and shoved you back against the wall roughly.
“Don’t worry, baby we’ll show you a good time,” his friend added as he stepped close and tried to kiss you.
Suddenly, a man came out of nowhere and knocked the blonde to the ground before he could get close enough. You would recognize a sweater like that anywhere. Ransom? At that moment, the dark haired man bolted out of the alley and back to the bright lights of the front of the club. You looked back, and Ransom was still whaling on the blonde haired man. He had him pinned to the ground and punching him mercilessly again and again without showing signs of stopping.
“Ransom!” you shouted in an effort to get his attention. “Ransom, he’s clearly unconscious. You can stop now!”
For the first time, Ransom looked up at you, and you could see his face. It was flushed with rage, and he was panting heavily. You had never believed that Ransom was capable or murder. That was part of the reason that you had let him move in with you, but right now, you finally understood. It was the look in his eyes.They were filled with an anger that was barely even human. In that moment, you were terrified.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Ransom. Nothing happened, but what are you doing here?” you asked incredulously.
“I didn’t like the way that we left things, and your messages are synced to your phone. I found the name of where you were going, and I came to apologize,” he said as he got up from where he was straddling the blonde man, and enveloped you in a protectie hug.
“You looked through my private text messages?”
“Yeah,” Ransom said as he rubbed the back of his neck and sheepishly stared at his shoes.
“I’m glad that you did, or else you wouldn’t have been here. Just don’t go snooping through messages anymore.”
“I make no promises,” he said jokingly. “But seriously, Y/N, is there anything I can do for you?”
“I’m okay, really, but I think that I’d like to go home now.”
“Of course, my car is parked a little ways down the block,” Ransom said as he put his arm around you and began to walk you towards the front of the alley. “Shit, Y/N! You’re shaking! Take my sweater,” he said as he pulled it off revealing him in just a tank top, showing off his incredible muscles. He helped you pull it over your own head and put his arm around you again as the two of you started to walk out of the alley again.
“Wait, Ransom!” you said as you suddenly stopped walking. “What about him?” you asked, nodding toward where the blonde man was lying.
“Shit!” Ransom jogged over to his body quickly and bent over to examine him. “He’s alive. I say we just leave him here. It’s better than he deserves anyway.”
“Ok.”
The ride home was silent, and when you finally walked back into the apartment, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding.
“Hey, do you want some coffee?” you asked before Ransom could disappear into his room for the night.
“Yeah. That sounds great.” Ransom said as he sat across from you at the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry about our fight tonight.”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. You were right. It wasn’t my place.”
“Wow! I never thought that I would hear the great Hugh Ransom Drysdale admit that he was wrong,” you said as you slid him a mug full of coffee across the counter.
“Don’t get used to it,” he chuckled. “I’m glad that you’re alright, Y/N.” YOu blushed at that and stared down at the countertop. “Cause you know if you were dead, then I wouldn't have anywhere else to stay,” he added.
“Yeah,” you chuckled weakly. “Have you heard from your family at all?”
“No, and I’mbetter off for it. They’re all uptight pricks anyway.”
“I’m sorry. I know this must hurt you,” you said, reading behind Ransom’s callousness and reaching across the table to grab his hand.
“Thanks.”
“Uh… well, it’s been a long night. I think I’m going to go to sleep now.”
“Yeah. That’s probably a good idea.”
“Here’s your sweater back,” you said as you moved to pull it off of you.
“No, no, don’t. Keep it. It looks good on you.”
“Thanks, Ransom,” you said as you disappeared into your room.
A couple of hours later, Ransom heard a small knock at his bedroom door. He paused the TV and went to answer it. It was you. You were wearing his sweater and nothing else.
“Y/N? I thought you were asleep,” he asked in shock.
“I tried, but I couldn’t get to sleep. I’m really sorry, and I hate to ask, but if it’s not too much trouble, could I sleep in here tonight?”
“Yeah, of course. Come in. Are you ok?”
“I will be,” you answered softly.
“Ok, well you can have whichever side of the bed that you want. I’m gonna go brush my teeth but I’ll be right back,” Ransom said quickly before he turned off the TV and rushed out of the room. A few minutes later he returned to find you laying in his bed, curled up in a ball. “Do you need anything else?” he asked as he crawled into bed next to you.
“No. This is perfect,” you said as you slowly inched back against Ransom. He took the hint and wrapped his arms around you.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. What happened, happened. Talking about it isn’t going to change things. Being here with you is helping though. I know it might sound weird given our past history, but you make me feel… safer.”
“It doesn’t sound weird, Y/N. I feel safer with you too especially after everything with my family.”
“I forgot to say it earlier, but thank you for tonight, for saving me.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” Ransom said, pulling you closer into his chest.
“Goodnight, Ransom.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
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maylovexhs · 4 years
Text
everytime - GOODNIGHT AND GO(Chp. 18)
Author’s Note: I sent out a message a few days ago if I should continue this story. No one responded so I’m giving y’all a few more day, or at least before I post all of the remaining chapters I wrote so far. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one! - May
everytime masterlist
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July 22, 2019.
“I need water” I said. “That high note killed me”
I looked to the side of the stage, catching Ashton looking at me. He looked down and smiled to himself.
Tomorrow was my last day in New York before going on tour. Today was my last day I would probably have with Ashton. I liked Ashton. I did. I just felt at home with him, unlike all my other exes. I knew I couldn’t date Ashton. Billie would kill me immediately. But I was willing to spend time with him. As a friend, at least.
I got off the stage and walked over to him.
“Hey” I said to him.
“Hi” Ashton said to me, having a crinkle on his cheeks.
“Umm, do you want to get dinner or do something tomorrow?” I asked him. “You know, since it’s the last day before going to London and you’re not coming along, I just thought maybe-“
“I would love to” Ashton answered, cutting me off. “Just the two of us or . . .”
Ashton looked to my band.
My band. Oh, right.
“It’s up to you” I said to Ashton. “I’m stuck with them for the next three months. A day couldn’t make a difference”
“I’m all for having them” Ashton said. “Depends on what we are doing though. I’m good for dinner tonight”
“Dinner” I said. “I’ll go invite the others out”
I smiled to myself as I walked over to my band. I approached Billie first, hoping to get the worst part over with first.
“So, what do you you think about dinner?” I asked her.
“Dinner?” She asked me, surprised. “Where? With who?”
“Anywhere” I told her. “I’m up for anything. And it’s with the band . . . and Ashton”
Billie looked to Ashton, squinting her eyes at him. She looked back to me.
“What are you up to?” Billie asked.
“Nothing” I said. “It’s our last night in New York before tour and Ashton helped a lot with practice so why not invite him?”
“You’re only inviting him for that?” Billie asked. “Nothing else? There better be-“
“There’s nothing else” I said, cutting her off.
Billie remained skeptical of me.
“Trust me, Billie” I said. “The last thing I want is another relationship right now, especially after Adam”
“Fine” Billie gave in. “But I’m watching you”
I nodded.
“So,” Billie said. “What time is this thing?”
Later. . .
“I swear I almost lost my shit when I saw Beyoncé” Adrian said with his half empty glass in his hand.
Everyone at the table laughed.
“I kept telling Rosè to pinch me throughout the night” Adrain said. “And this bitch over here”
Adrian gestured towards me.
“She kept telling me to calm down” Adrain said. “This bitch has no idea what I was going through"
I smiled to myself. I looked to Ashton across the table.
He was staring at me.
I smirked at him. He returned the gesture, smirking back at me. I looked to Adrian.
“Excuse me” I said, defending myself. “It’s Beyoncé. I’m always nervous when I see her”
“No, I was having a full on panic attack when I met her” Adrian said. “I didn’t see you even flinch”
I crossed my arms at him.
I didn’t intend on inviting Adrian. Neither did I intend to invite Rosé, Camila or half of the tour crew but one thing led to another and now we occupied the whole restaurant. I didn’t mind everyone. I actually thought it was better to have more people so Billie would think less about Ashton and me. I was thinking of him.
“This reminds me, I wanted to make a toast” Adrian said. “To Y/N and I, and our stage outfits”
I raised my drink to him.
“And to you” I told him. “You’re a genius”
Adrain drank to that. I looked at my band.
“Also, I would like to make a toast for my band and crew” I said. “We’re a team. A family. And I couldn’t ask for a better one to spend the next year with touring”
“L’Chaim” Chris cheered.
I sipped the wine in my glass.
I looked to Ashton once more. He smiled at me.
“So. . .” I heard Camila say. “I take it you’re over Adam?”
I looked beside me to talk to Camila.
“I take it you’re gonna give me love advice now?” I asked her.
Camila nodded, smiling to herself.
“You should go out with him” She said, leaning into me. “He has been looking at you all night. Maybe he wants to go out with you too”
I shook my head.
“It’s too late” I told her. “We leave tomorrow, remember?”
“Exactly” Camila said. “Time is ticking. You need to make a move before someone else steals him”
“Camila, I don’t need another relationship” I told her. “Especially a new one when I’ll be on the other side of the country”
Camila shook her head.
“Usually I would believe anything you say but . . .” Camila spoke while looking to Billie. “The way Billie acts every time she sees you with him says something else”
I rolled my eyes at Camila.
“You’re insane” I said to her. “And Billie always acts that way”
“More protective and harsh than usual?” Camila asked.
I didn’t answer.
“All I’m saying is if you want to be with him,” Camila said. “It’s better to say it sooner than later. Who knows what can happen when you’re on tour?”
I sat back in my seat. I crossed my arms.
It was too late. I did like Ashton, more than I should but I couldn’t do nothing about it. I was about to leave tomorrow and never see Ashton again for months. Even if I did go for it, I doubt I could have a steady relationship with him being across the world. How the hell would I pull that off?
I looked to Billie at the end of the table.
And Billie - my friend and my guitarist. If I did choose to be with Ashton, worst case scenario would be Billie dropping out of the band in the middle of tour. I couldn’t let that happen. It would take time I don’t have to get a new guitarist. Not only that but Billie was my friend. I couldn’t betray a friend like that.
I looked back to Ashton. I found him laughing at Adrain.
Most of all, maybe Ashton didn’t want to be with me. Maybe he didn’t want to be that apart of my world. A world where everything you do is looked about under a microscope. A world where the truth can easily be twisted into something else. As much as it was my world, sometimes I didn’t want to be apart of it. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t either. Adam didn’t.
Ashton looked to me. I looked down.
It was too late. And if it wasn’t too late, it would be wrong for too many reasons. We weren’t meant to be together now. Maybe in another life, we would be together. Or even in a few years. But not now. I couldn’t afford now.
Later . . .
“I’m gonna miss you” Sophia said, hugging me.
“Me too” I told her. “But I’ll see you soon. I’ll fly you out once I get the chance”
Sophia let go of me.
“Sounds like a plan” Sophia said.
She looked behind me. I turned to see Ashton talking with Rosé a few feet away from me. I looked back to Sophia.
“Do you like him?” I asked her.
“A little” She answered. “Don’t have a feeling he likes me though”
A part of me felt happy at that. I shouldn’t.
“Well, I have no idea if he’s with anyone” I told her. “So, I’m not much help.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it” She said. “I’m not going to spend my energy on people who don’t  show interest”
Neither should I.
“I should get going” Sophia said. “I’ll call you tomorrow”
I nodded. I watched her leave. I turned around to see Rosé and Ashton hugging goodbye. I waited for Rosé to leave him.
“I’ll see you on the plane” I said to Rosé.
“Please don’t dye your hair last second on an impulse” She warned me.
I smiled at her.
“I’m not 26 anymore” I said.
“Don’t do it” Rosé said. “I’ll call you when I leave my apartment”
Rosé walked away from me. I felt Ashton’s presence beside me.
“What color did you dye your hair at 26?” Ashton asked me.
I looked to him.
“Purple” I answered him. “And it was mid hair. Not that big of a deal”
He smiled, looking down. There was a small moment of silence.
“I liked-“
“Do you-“ I stopped talking, noticing Ashton talked at the same time.
“You first” We both said.
We both let out a nervous laugh.
“Umm. . .” I said.
I was acting like a teenager. I was thirty. I shouldn’t be acting like this.
“It was fun playing with you” Ashton said. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone kind and funny as you”
I blushed a little from his words.
“The pleasure is all mine” I said. “I’m really happy I met you. I doubt I could find another person to cry with and play together”
Ashton smiled. There was another moment of silence.
“I guess you have to go?” I asked him. “Don’t need to keep your roommate waiting for you”
Ashton looked at me. A faint smirk grew on his lips. There was familiar look in his eyes. I wondered if he wanted to remember this last moment of ours.
“Yeah” Ashton nodded. “I do”
“Hopefully I’ll see you soon” I said to him.
“I hope so too” He said with a slight pain in his voice. “Goodnight, Y/N”
“Goodnight, Ashton” I said to him.
Ashton slowly walked away from me. I felt my heart throb with each step he took.
He never met anyone as kind and funny as me. Never until me.
I watched him walk down the block.
What was I doing? I was going to let him slip from my hands just like that? I was going to leave him just like that? I was going to give up on something that could be more? Fuck it. I couldn’t.
I ran after him.
“Ashton!” I called out his name.
Ashton turned around to me.
“Huh?”
I ran up to him, standing up on my tippy toes and kissing him on the cheek. I took a step back.
Ashton looked at me. He blushed, lips proudly smirking.
“Do you want to do something tomorrow?” I asked him. “You and me alone? I have until four tomorrow. I know it’s not much time but . . . I feel like it’s right to spend my last day with you”
Ashton nodded.
“I couldn’t think of another way to spend a day” He said.
I let out a breath, relieved.
“Goodnight, Y/N” He said. “Until tomorrow”
“Until tomorrow”
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luccislegs · 4 years
Note
Hi! Can I get a scenario for Lucci and his girlfriend? After it’s revealed that he is a CP9 agent and she asks him “was our relationship real or it was all fake?”. Happy ending please, this world is already dark and sad as it is. Also you are an amazing writer!
i’m putting the warnings that it’s 2k words, there’s cursing, angst, hurt/comfort, and possible ooc but i tried really, really hard to make him in-character but also still soft for his partner. i really like how this turned out i hope y’all do too.
That night was a blur. 
Your attention was caught between what was going on at Galley-La and setting up for Aqua Laguna, and it made you an erratic, harried, and nervous mess. You were worried for all the people you had become friends with over the last few years, but mostly you were worried for your partner, Lucci. He was one of the strongest foremen on the docks, but whoever was attacking Iceburg was clearly dangerous, and even if you knew he’d be okay, you still worried.
Sleep came in fits and, when you finally woke up the next morning, it was to the news that the attackers hadn’t been the Strawhat Pirates, but Galley-La dockworkers. Your blood turned to ice in your veins as you hurried to the docks, desperate to find Lucci, but most of Dock 1 was empty. Nor could you find the main foremen, or Iceburg. It was via a passing doctor, tending to the injured dock workers, that you got more information. It was the same time you learned that your whole relationship with Lucci was a lie.
You didn’t remember the walk home, and most of the rest of the day was a hazy mix of tears, anger, and betrayal. All of it left you feeling empty and drained, but mostly you were hurt. 
Over the next few weeks, no one knew what to say to you. They couldn’t blame you for being involved with Lucci. He had fooled everyone and no one believed you had been involved in whatever he and his cohorts had done. But condolences didn’t seem right, and there was nothing to forgive, but somehow something had changed and all of you seemed to be dancing around each other like something needed to be said.
After a while, the pain stopped, but you never really stopped hoping he would come back. What he did was awful, and he was a liar and a spy and he murdered people for a living, but even knowing all of that didn’t change how he held you at night or the way he comforted you when you were at your lowest. The way that the foremen and Franky Family made it sound, Lucci was a cold-hearted bastard who didn’t even know what the word love meant, let alone how to love someone. But that wasn’t what your memories said, nor was it what your traitorous heart was telling you. 
It was another one of those nights, where you came into your house and took in the empty space, devoid of the warmth that once made it home, and decided you weren’t going to deal with the myriad of emotions it brought with it. Mentally checking out, you threw your things to the floor, intending to just go to bed, when the creak of a floorboard down the hall stilled you.
Your heart in your throat, you called out, “Who’s there?”
In an instant, a shadow appeared at the end of the hallway, and you fell back with a shriek as Lucci’s towering figure entered the living room. How he moved so fast was beyond you, and you didn’t have time to process escape before he was squatting down in front of you.
He looked a mess. 
There were bandages on his cheek and dark circles under his eyes. His usually sleek and wavy hair was hung limp and dull around his face, which itself looked pale. Gentle hands wrapped around your arms, hauling you to your feet and before you even knew you were standing, you were being embraced. 
Your brain fought to catch up with everything you were seeing and, when it finally did, you broke.
“What the hell, Lucci?” you screamed. Or tried to. Your voice was hoarse with unshed tears, but those too were rapidly beginning to stream down your face. “What are you doing here? If they catch–” 
Wait.
Why were you worried about them catching him? He deserved to be caught. After everything he did: the attempted murder, the lying, the framing, the deceit. 
He more than deserved it. 
Well, that was what you told yourself, but you never even opened your mouth to yell. 
He really looked like shit, now that you took him in. It was clear he hadn’t been having a good time of it since he left Water 7, and you couldn’t help your curiosity. 
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating your victory with the rest of the World Government?” you snap, wiggling out of his arms. He didn’t let you go without a fight, but when you slapped his hands away, he let them fall.
“That didn’t go according to plan,” he said, watching you step further away from him. He had to fight the urge to follow you, to engulf you in his arms again. He had missed you more desperately than he had realized, more desperately than he had let anyone else know. Underneath his usual aloof demeanor, he was buzzing with anxiety. 
The World Government had done it’s best to train emotions out of him, but somehow you and you alone had gotten under his skin. He didn’t know if it was your soft kindness, or your confidence, or your soundless acceptance of things life threw at you, but he had fallen for you hard. And he had hoped that in time, maybe you could be coaxed to accept him for what he was.
But the universe hadn’t given him the opportunity.
You scoffed at his words and turned from him, wanting to face anywhere but him. For weeks you had thought about what you would say to him if you saw him again, how you would react. And yet, now that he stood in front of you, you were nowhere near prepared to deal with this, emotionally or mentally, and you could feel the exhaustion just beneath the newly formed headache beating at your temples.
“Yeah? Good. How could you? I mean, Lucci, five years. You’ve been here for five fucking years and that meant nothing to you?” you asked, still holding yourself like you might fall apart if you so much as relaxed. He said nothing, and you sighed, tilting your head as if that would alleviate anything. “If it meant nothing to you, if those friendships you formed– or pretended to form, anyway– meant nothing, why are you here? You clearly don’t give a shit about me–”
That set him off. He would readily admit that there was no lingering affection for anyone else in this backwater island, but he couldn’t even lie to himself about his feelings for you.
“That’s exactly why I’m here. I do care about you, though I don’t suppose you have any reason to believe me. Why else would I come back?” he asked. He could feel anger simmering just beneath the surface, though he wasn’t sure if it was at himself or you. You deserved the world and he had lit it aflame and handed you the ashes, and expected you to accept them as a substitute for the happiness you could have had with someone else. 
 Watching the myriad of emotions flicker across your face was like a slap to the face.
Denial, hope, anger, hurt: all of it was an open book on your face and he read them easily, but you stood fast, even as tears streamed down your face. He hadn’t expected it to be easy, hadn’t expected you to come running back into his arms with happiness. It was only fair that he take your anger, because he had abandoned you without a word and left you to the wolves.
The sigh you expelled was tired, your fingers cramping from the white knuckle grip on your arms as you stared blankly at the wall. It would be so easy to give into him, it was what you wanted to do, but how could you ever trust his words again? Shaking your head, you hunched down into yourself. “I don’t think I can do this, Lucci. Three years is a long time to lie, three years is a long time to lie and then attempt an assassination and then come back and ask me to forgive you.”
Your words were barely a whisper, but Lucci caught them all to easily. He could also hear the hesitation in your voice, and he wasn’t above using it to his advantage. “_____, would you have believed me if I told you? Would you have accepted it?” He cupped your face gently and lifted your head so he could look you in the eyes. His words weren’t what you wanted to hear, but you talked about honesty, and that’s what he was doing. He was being honest. “I couldn’t trust you to keep my secret. But don’t think I didn’t feel anything for you. Don’t think I don’t feel anything for you.”
Your head was beginning to swim from an uncomfortable mix of too many emotions and too much crying. His hands were warm and real on your face, comforting you. You hadn’t even realized you were cold. 
His words stung, but they were true. You understood the need for secrecy. His job demanded it. But were you willing to accept it? Could you really be with him if that’s how it was always going to be? And what about the residents of Water 7? How could you look them in the eyes when you were sheltering the very person that had almost turned their lives upside down? Your life upside down?
But that was the thing, wasn’t it? He had turned your life upside down in so many different ways, entwined his life with yours that detangling the threads would require scissors, and you weren’t sure you wanted that. Your memories with him weren’t wrong, weren’t bad, and certainly didn’t reflect the assassin he apparently was. 
“Which is the real you, Lucci? Can you tell me that?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. Surrounded by him, the faded scent of cologne still lingering on his crumpled suit and filling your overwhelmed mind, it was too easy to fall into his charms again.
He paused, still staring at you with those soul-piercing silver eyes as he thought about his answer. Who he is is not who is with you, and he wonders if you’ll believe that. It’s the truth, whether you do or not, and when he tells you he can see that flicker of hope again in your tired eyes.
Maybe, if you were a stronger, less selfish person, you would resist, tell him to get lost and take the time to move on. But you were none of those things, and you didn’t have the power to resist the familiar comfort of his callused hands on your skin, or the soft warmth with which he was looking at you.
Tears spilled over and gathered against his fingers, and he could see the fight leave you just before you curled yourself into his embrace. He welcomed you, relished the familiar feeling, the only person he’s ever allowed so close to him, in more ways than one. Twenty years he’d gone without needing the touch of another person, but somehow you not only wormed your way under his skin, but planted yourself there, making him crave the intimacy.
He wasn’t going to promise you that he would never lie to you again, would not entertain the notion that things would go smoothly or perfectly or on forever, but he wasn’t concerned with the future this time.
Just you, in his arms, for however long he could hold you.
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Courtney’s 4K/Quarantine Writing Challenge!!
So, not only did I hit 4,000 followers a little while ago (thank you all so much again for that!) but we’re also all stuck inside for the foreseeable future and I know we’re all bored out of our minds (or at least I am) and I don’t read anywhere near enough fics as I should (and as I want to) so I figured since I’m going a Write Fest on my own blog to celebrate 4K (I’ll link it here if you want to check it out) I thought I could extend that to all of you guys as well!
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So yeah, writing challenge, premise is pretty simple, I’ve hosted a couple before (lowkey flops but we move), you read the rules, abide by them, pick a prompt and a character and you write!
As always with me, I’m a nerd and so the prompts are split into categories - there are song lyrics, book quotes, comedy quotes and film quotes to choose from!
I hope you guys want to join in with this! I love reading what you guys write and this could be a really fun way to just keep us all moving and inspired over the next few months :)
The Rules
1) You don’t have to be following me but it would be nice because I’m lonely and want friends plz
2) If your piece of writing is over 500 words, please use the ‘read more’ feature
3) Reblog this post to get the word out (and tag anyone who may be interested!)
4) It’s going to be one person per prompt but if needed I can add more prompts
5) Smut is fine but please leave warnings as appropriate (THOUGH NO UNDERAGE CHARACTER SMUT THANKS)
6) On the back of that one, no inappropriate pairings pleaseeeeee
7) Also please make sure you leave appropriate warnings at the beginnings of fics if any sensitive subjects are brought up (e.g. mental health etc)
8) Ships and OC’s are welcome
9) Tag me in your writing!
10) Use the hashtag #Courts4KWritingChallenge
11) If you want to enter send me an ask with the prompt you want and the pairing you’ll be writing it with
12) The deadline for this is 15th July (this can be extended if y’all need it)
Characters/People/Pairings
1) Any of the BoRhap dudes and their characters 
2) (BoRhap!)Queen members (Freddie only platonically)
3) The Hargreeves Children (older!Five only)
4) Richard Madden (+ his characters)
5) Taron Egerton (+ his characters)
6) Rocketman!Bernie Taupin and Ray Williams
7) Smosh Members
8) Jake Gyllenhaal (+ all his various characters)
9) Chris Evans (+ his characters)
10) Sebastian Stan (+ his characters)
11) Any of the 5sos guys (poly!5sos fics also both welcomed and encouraged)
12) Stranger Things peeps (Steve, Billy + Robin/their cast counterparts)
13) One Direction guys (Niall, Harry + Louis)
14) Pevensie children
15) Sex Education (cast + characters)
Prompts
Song Lyrics
“Wake up sunshine, somebody loves you” - Wake Up, Sunshine by All Time Low
“When I take a look at my life and all of my crimes you're the only thing that I think I got right” - Lover of Mine by 5 Seconds of Summer ( @angiefangirlworld-2 w/ Ashton)
“Kiss in the kitchen like it’s a dance floor” - Sunflower Vol.6 by Harry Styles
“There'll never be another, I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life” - Black and White by Niall Horan ( @unn--known​ w/ someone from 1D)
“Let's keep each other safe from the world” - Lucky People by Waterparks
“Never wanted to be the boy next door, always thought I'd be something more” - Drowse by Queen
“And when I touch you I feel happy inside, it's such a feeling that my love I can't hide” - Hold Your Hand by The Beatles ( @flick-ofthe-wrist​ w/ Roger Taylor)
“It’s hard to think you could ever hate me, but everything's feeling different now” - Too Young by Louis Tomlinson
“All I can do is say that these arms were made for holding you” - 18 by One Direction
“I waited for her call - she always kept me waiting” - The Girl at the Rock Show by Blink-182
Book Quotes
“I am so busy keeping my head above water that I scarcely know who I am, much less who anyone else is” - The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
“Don’t ever tell anybody anything. If you do you start missing everybody” - The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger 
“Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.” - Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh
“I have measured out my life in coffee spoons” - The Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock by T.S. Eliot
“As far as I’m concerned, I came out of the womb spouting cynicism and wishing for rain.” - Solitaire by Alice Oseman
“We cross our bridges as we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and the presumption that once our eyes watered.” - Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead by Tom Stoppard
“Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.” I Am The Messenger by Marcus Zusak
“I love her, and that’s the beginning and end of everything” - The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Flitzgerald
“I just want you to know that you’re very special and the only reason I’m telling you is that I don’t know if anyone else ever has” - The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chebowsky ( @coupscarat w/ Damien Haas)
“Was there some kind of rule against drop kicking arseholes in the face? Probably. They always had rules against things that needed to be done” - Made You Up by Francesca Zappia
Comedy Quotes
“You have to treat everybody’s views, no matter what they believe, with respect” “What, even idiots?” Outnumbered
“Well you shouldn’t be prejudiced against fat people, thin people… men who have turned into women, women who have turned into men, gay people, ginger people… people from Liverpool” Outnumbered 
“Stand back kids, this school’s insurance policy doesn’t cover blown minds” Bad Education
“Do you think you could stop being so cheeky?” “Do you think you could stop asking stupid questions?” Outnumbered
“I spend my entire life around people. As much as I would like to, it’s almost impossible to avoid them” The Inbetweeners ( @queen-bunnyears​ w/ Ben Hardy or Sebastian Stan)
“We’re very hufflepuff here, wouldn’t you be happier in slytherin?” Fresh Meat ( @adrenaline-roulette​ w/ Ben Hardy)
“What’s the best way to make friends?” “Tell a woman you love her, and she says ‘I think we’re just friends’” Jimmy Carr, Jon Richardson
“There’s four things you can be in life: sober, tipsy, drunk and hungover. Tipsy is the only one that you’re not crying” James Acaster
“What’s that on your shorts?” “Oh - it’s called excitement” Smosh
“Full disclosure - I could just be an arsehole” Smosh
Film Quotes
“To me, you are perfect” - Love, Actually
“I wish I knew how to quit you” - Brokeback Mountain
“If you start crying, I’m gonna have to pretend to start crying” - Gifted ( @beysenpai​ w/ Chris Evans)
“I’m with you ‘til the end of the line” - Captain America: The Winter Soldier ( @mamaskillerqueen​ w/ Steve Harrington)
“Most of the time I just want to staple things to her head” - Bridget Jones’ Diary ( @hardforbenhardy​ w/ Ben Hardy)
“We’re family. We believe in each other. That’s everything” - Bohemian Rhapsody
“Look around: this guy basically lives in a clue board” - Knives Out
“Too many guys think I'm a concept, or I complete them, or I'm gonna make them alive. But I'm just a fucked-up girl who's lookin' for my own peace of mind; don't assign me yours.” - Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
"What I'm saying is--and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form--is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way." - When Harry Met Sally ( @acdeaky​ w/ Ben Hardy)
“You’re loved and have been loved. You’re one of the lucky ones” - Irreplaceable You
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Only For A Moment Ch. 47
Master: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: For most of your life you’d been able to keep your abilities a secret, that is until Hydra got wind of you. After years of being in their clutches, you break out when The Avengers expose SHIELD/Hydra. Since then, you’ve been on the run. Things are going as well as you could hope when you see a familiar face… Could the Winter Soldier really be in Bucharest too?
Warnings: Canon violence, trauma, feels so many FEELINGS
A/N: Excuse me. I’m just sobbing in a corner. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS OVER. I started writing this a year and a half ago never imagining it would be what it is. I’ve made dear friends through this fic (my tumblr wife @wonderlandmind4​ lookin’ at you bby, thank you for the love and support and betaing and everything). I’ve grown as a writer. So many thingssss. 
Thank you to EVERYONE who’s still reading, who’s been patient with the delays, who has reblogged and said kind things. You’re all amazing and my life would be a little darker without you in it sweet pumpkins! 
Come get in the feelings with me and these two characters one last time... (until Part 2 that is 😘)
Tags are open!
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Steve paces another circuit around the back of the jet.
“Steve,” Natasha snaps, “just sit down for fuck’s sake.” 
“Extracting them shouldn’t be too hard,” Hill says eyes skimming schematics once more.
He tosses them both a sidelong glance before sitting, eyes fixed out the window. It wasn’t that he was worried about getting everyone out—with Natasha at his side neutralizing who they needed to in order to get to the team would be easy. 
No, the thought making him shift in his seat is who of them would even want to come…
Everything, every ounce of stability they had was gone because of him, because of the choices he made. He led them all into this fight and somehow he was the only one standing free and unharmed. It felt like failure. How could he blame any of them if they hated him for this? If they refused to stand with him now?
 Then there was you. 
Would you trust him without Bucky by his side? Believe him when he said Bucky was safe? Even after all that had happened… did he trust you?
“I’ll be taking us down in five,” Hill says. 
No more time to worry about any of that now. All he could do was try. 
Just as he suspected, they make quick work of quietly clearing the section of the vessel they need to. Before entering the block where the team is they both pause. 
“Do… do you think they’ll forgive me?” Natasha looks up at him in a rare moment of vulnerability. “For making the wrong call?” 
“We all made the right call for ourselves, Nat.” He forces a smile, “They know that.” If only he could make himself believe it. 
He doesn’t realize he’s been holding his breath until he sees Sam’s smirk. 
“Took you long enough,” Sam quips. 
“Five days vacation not enough for you?” Steve asks, prying the cell door open. 
“Oh, it’s been five stars.” 
Natasha pulls Wanda’s cell open, helping her out, he feels his blood boil seeing her in that straitjacket. While she sees to freeing Wanda and Sam opens the other cells Steve steps to your cell and freezes. 
You’re strapped into a chair reminiscent of the one they held Bucky in, clearly unconscious. Before he can move to open the door Wanda’s red haze engulfs it, practically ripping the metal from the wall. She pushes past him, tearing the shackles from your arms and legs while her hands cup your face, fingers checking your pulse. 
“Thank god,” Wanda sighs out. 
“How is she?” Sam asks from behind Steve as he steps into the tight space.  
“Breathing. Her pulse feels strong.”
Sam opens one of your lids, but you don’t react. “They probably drugged her.” 
“Any time they tried to take Wanda or any of us elsewhere she stopped them,” Clint says, arms crossed. “They must have a small crew because rather than just take her and us they’d focus on her.” He’s right, that small crew was the only way they were able to get everyone out. 
Steve studies the dried blood from a place your lip had busted, your black eye, a painfully dark bruise on your cheekbone. He hears Bucky’s voice in his head, “She’s like you never knows when to just stay down.”
Whatever questions about trust, he had before are gone. You protected his team, his family when he couldn’t. 
“I’ve got her,” gently he lifts your pliant form in his arms, cradling you close. “Let’s get moving.”
“Y’all head on without me,” Clint says. 
“What?!” Natasha spins on him. 
He gives her a sad smile. “I can’t be on the lam, Nat.” Clint rests his hands on her shoulders. “You know I can’t put Laura and the kids through that.” She looks away before flinging her arms around his neck. 
“Same for me,” Scott says. “I got a daughter to think about.” The two men exchange a knowing look. 
Steve feels his chest tighten with guilt. “Are you both sure?”
“Yeah-” Clint shrugs- “besides, being stuck in close quarters for an indiscriminate amount of time with all of you? Think I’d prefer prison.” Natasha punches him in the chest playfully. 
“Look out for each other,” Clint says. 
“We will,” Sam says. Steve nods in agreement before leading them all to the jet and an uncertain future.
-
It feels like your body is being torn apart… No. It feels like a million imperceptible particles are trying to get in. You can feel the dust in the air, the fibers of the bandages on your chest, the tiny mites in the old mattress beneath you eating away. Even through the darkness of your closed lids, you perceive the unfamiliar room you’re in clearly; every piece of furniture, every corner, visible to your mind’s eye like a relief sculpture. 
Too much! Your brain screams as it tries desperately to process every bit of information slamming into it. 
Move, you have to move, come on Y/N! You try to open your eyes, move your hand, get a grip on your body. 
Finally, you break through, shooting from the bed, gasping for air. The salt in your own sweat feels like tiny needles running across your skin, the particles thundering into your lungs threatening to choke you. 
Gripping your skull you press yourself into a corner, trying to hold your head together as you feel the pain begin at the top of your spine spreading up. 
You didn’t know where you were or what the hell they did to you. The last thing you remembered was the sting of a needle before falling into blackness but you were pretty certain you were still on The Raft. This was a shit time for your brain to overload. 
Pushing your back into the solid wall you force a deep breath into your lungs. Think of anything else but the countless sensations bombarding your awareness. You think of Bucky—his smell, his laugh, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, his gentle hands. 
Slowly the doors slam shut, damming the flow, allowing your tired mind to process simple things like the stale smell of the small room, the dim light, the worn carpet. 
“Y/N?” A tentative voice asks. You gasp a little, startled. 
“Oh,” Sam says softly. “I’m sorry. It’s ok.” He stops a few feet away holding his hands open in a non-threatening way. 
He crouches down, “Can you tell me what you’re seeing?”
“You?” You answer, confused. 
“Just me? In this bedroom?” 
You understand suddenly that he thinks you’re having a flashback. A small smile rises to your lips at his kindness and caution. 
“I’m good, Sam. I’m here.” You look around the room, “Where is, here, anyway?”
He stands, clearly more relaxed, and extends a hand to you. “Some small town in Switzerland.” You take it and let him help you up. 
“Bucky and Steve?”
Sam doesn’t meet your eyes, just turns for the door. “Steve and Natasha are doing a perimeter walk.”
“Sam,” you say, unmoving. He looks back at you, expression uncertain. Suddenly your stomach is in your knees, heart in your throat. The lamp on the table behind you begins to shake your fragile control wavering. 
He looks around the room as it shudders before answering. “All I know is he’s ok. You’ll have to talk to Steve when he gets back. But…” He sighs, “He’s not here.” 
He wasn’t dead, that was what mattered. But… you knew there were things almost as bad. Your power slides back into you, the room calm once more. Still, your chest is tight with worry. 
“Come on,” Sam nods at the door. “You’ve been out for almost two days, you’ve got to be starving.” As if in affirmation your stomach growls loudly. 
Sam leads you downstairs through what feels like the home of someone’s grandmother—maybe it was at some point—to a cozy kitchen. Two people you don’t know sit at the table, talking easily over steaming mugs. The man looks up at you with one good eye as you enter. 
“Y/N this is Nick Fury and Maria Hill.” 
“Just Fury,” the man says. He stands, hand extended. 
“Hill or Maria is fine,” the woman gives you a warm smile. You shake her hand as well, eying the man. 
“You were the director of S.H.I.E.L.D.” It wasn’t a question just a statement of fact, your tone flat and cold. You hadn’t wanted to get anywhere near the Hydra files but you had read enough in the aftermath of everything to know the name Nick Fury, to know that Hydra had existed just beneath the surface while he collected superheroes.
“I was.” He meets your stare, jaw set. 
The gurgle of a coffee pot breaks the tense silence. 
“Coffee open to anyone?” You ask no one in particular. 
“Yeah,” Sam answers. “Though maybe water would be best-”
“Maybe. But I’ve been denied caffeine for almost a week-” realizing how little time had passed made your head spin a bit- “it’s in everyone’s best interest for me to opt for the coffee.” Sam shakes his head but pours you a cup anyway. 
That first sip sings through your senses. Closing your eyes you breathe in the scent, imagining that you’ll open them and see your kitchen, Bucky at the table reading the paper, Billie or a brass band playing in the background. 
“Y/N!” Wanda stands in the doorway to the kitchen. 
“Hey,” you offer up as much of a smile as you can muster. 
“How… How are you feeling?” She asks, shifting from foot to foot.
“I’m ok.” 
She opens her mouth to say more but is cut off by Natasha and Steve entering through the back door. 
“Everything looks clear,” Natasha announces to the room. Her eyes sweep the space, landing on you. “Oh! You’re up. Good,” her smile is warm. 
You give her an acknowledging nod but look to Steve, desperate for answers that only he can give. He says nothing though, just focuses on slipping out of his jacket.
“Steve,” you say. It almost sounds like a greeting but your desperation is curled between every letter. His shoulders tense a bit. 
He finally meets your eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing hard. “Let’s talk. If you’re ready.” Not waiting for a response he walks from the kitchen, heading to the back of the house to a small office where a cot is set up in one corner. 
Steve tosses the jacket on the cot followed by his baseball cap. Sighing heavily he runs a hand through his hair. 
You can’t wait any longer. “Where is he?” Your voice cracks, hands white-knuckled around the mug, barely holding it together. 
His eyes are sad as he says, “He’s safe.” It should be relieving. It isn’t.
“That’s not good enough, Steve. Where is he?”
“Why don’t you-”
“I don’t want to fucking sit down-” the coffee in your cup swirls, the window rattles- “I want answers.” 
“I can’t tell you.” A book flies from the shelf behind you, landing with a resounding thud on the hardwood floor. Steve looks at it, raising an eyebrow. “I’m asking you to trust me, Y/N. He is safe and with people who are going to help him.” 
Your eyes narrow, “Help him how?”
Steve sighs, “He was hurt…” 
He explains everything that happened once he and Bucky left you all at the airport. At some point you drop onto the cot, hands shaking so much you have to set your coffee down. You hardly breathe as he tells you about Bucky’s arm, unable to imagine the pain he must have been in, aching that you weren’t there. 
“Where is he?” You growl out.
“Y/N, like I said-”
“No” —you shake your head—“Zemo.” Hatred burns cold throughout your body. 
You may want to rip Tony Stark’s own arm from his body but Zemo… You knew how to hurt someone just enough to not kill them. Already you’re imaging snapping small bones one by one, the muscles you can slowly shred, calculating just how long you can drag it out.
“Don’t go down that road.” Steve’s hands ball into fists, belying his own feelings. “Zemo is being handled.” He strides across the room, retrieving something from a pack. 
“Here,” he holds out an envelope with your name on the front in Bucky’s neat script. Your mouth goes dry. “I think it will help fill in the rest.” 
Steve sits in the desk chair, staring at his hands, as you slowly open the letter. 
Y/N,
There’s so much I want to say, so much I need to tell you, but the words just aren’t coming to me. I hope Steve has told you what he can about all that happened. Don’t be too upset with him about the blanks he can’t fill—some promises need to be kept. 
As for my decision… even he is struggling to make sense of that. 
I am so sorry I’m not there, wherever you are. I don’t think words exist that express how much I want you with me but—and I know you’re going to be furious with me for saying it—you aren’t safe with me right now. 
What happened in Berlin was one of my worst nightmares made real. The fact that someone would only need to mutter a few well-placed words and I could… Well, we both know what I could do. 
You are everything to me, Y/N. And the truth is I am not strong enough to live with the burden that I could put you in harm’s way. Especially not when I have a chance to remove that threat. 
The people here truly feel they can fix whatever Hydra broke in my head. I swear once they do nothing will keep me from you. If you’ll have me still that is. 
I hope you can forgive me… for everything. I hope you know the depth of my love for you. 
I will be dreaming of only you my darling. 
Yours always, 
Bucky
Futilely you try and stop the tears sneaking from the corners of your eyes by looking at the ceiling. Still, they come, flowing silently down your cheeks. 
How could he think for even a moment you wouldn’t have him? That you could ever begrudge him enough to not forgive him? You dig your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from sobbing, squeezing your eyes shut. 
Steve rolls the squeaky chair closer to you, covering your fist, resting on your thigh with his large hand. You look into his own pained face, blue eyes dark with emotion. 
“He loves you.”
You look away. Wherever he is he’s unconscious and alone and you cannot protect him. 
“As soon as I know anything I swear I will tell you,” Steve says giving your hand a squeeze. 
Time opens like a black hole in your mind. “Soon,” meant nothing. There was no telling how long it would take for them to figure out all the damage Hydra did, let alone fix it. The thought of going years without him shoots despair through your heart like a dagger. 
“Thank you,” Steve says. You look at him confused. 
“For what?”
“You looked out for them when I couldn’t. I-” He clears his throat, running a hand over his face. “Just thank you.” 
You shake your head, “You don’t have to thank me. It was the least I could do.” It’s his turn to be confused. 
“If it wasn’t for you, for all of you, I would truly have lost him.”
Steve cocks a crooked grin, “I only owe him a few hundred for saving my ass so many times.” 
You huff out a small laugh, “I’ve heard about a few of those.” 
His grin blooms into a full smile, “Oh? Should I be scared?” 
“Definitely.”
A knock at the door draws both your attention. Hill opens it popping her head in. 
“Sam made breakfast if you two want some.” 
“Thanks, Hill,” Steve says. Hill closes the door, the smell of bacon creeping in. 
“Food?” He asks. 
“God yes.” Tenderly you fold Bucky’s letter, tucking it into the pocket of the sweats you found yourself in. 
For a few awkward seconds, the two of you stand staring before you embrace each other so tight it’s almost hard to breathe. 
“You’re family now, you know that right?” 
And you do. Bucky was his family just as Nix had been yours. Even though your heart was broken, it felt good to have a family again. 
-
“Sam!” You call out into the house. “Did you use all the chili powder?” 
“What kind of monster do you take me for?” He hollers back. “It’s on the top shelf.” You have to float up a bit to find it, tucked behind the cinnamon Sam liked to sprinkle on his toast. 
He saunters into the kitchen. “What ya makin’?” 
“Chili and cornbread. Picked up some stuff for it while Hill and I were on recon yesterday.” 
“Good luck with this chili powder. Not sure how good it is.”
You open the container and smell it. “Seems ok.”
“Yeah but my ribs last week were off.” He plucks the container from you looking at it. 
Playfully you shoo him away. “Your ribs were excellent. Now get out of my kitchen.” It was the same thing he said every time it was his turn to cook. 
“Ok, ok!” 
You can’t help but smile as you fall into the familiar motions of chopping and sautéing. 
Most of your days were spent like this, with good people and good food—between you and Sam, no one in the house was going to go hungry. True, you often found yourself longing for the peace of the farmhouse or the cozy feel of your apartment; but you had forgotten how comforting it was to be in a space filled with chatter and warmth.
Each night it felt like you were lost at sea though, untethered without the reassurance and comfort of Bucky’s presence. Every morning starting with a cup of coffee and a desperate look to Steve that was always met with a subtle shake of his head. After a little more than a month it began to feel like your new normal--caffeine and heartbreak to kick off the day. 
Rather than wallow you buried yourself in as many daily tasks as you could. The old two-bedroom one-bath house was a tight fit with five of you which meant there were often things to clean, cook, or fix. 
A few times you’d even gone with Hill to work recon on some intel Fury had gotten from god knew where. One other you’d joined Natasha on what she called a ‘quickie’ to neutralize a small arms dealer in Ukraine. Each time had felt like an audition like you were unwittingly trying for a part you didn’t ask for but you wouldn’t mind having either. 
As you clean the kitchen, trying to think of what to fill the next few hours with, you see someone you weren’t expecting chatting with Steve in the back of the property. Fury. 
Bitterness touches your tongue. He’d left a few days after you came to and hadn’t been back since. You were glad of it—you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling of dislike you had for the man, despite the help he’d provided. Maybe you just needed someone to blame. 
You turn away before they can see you, not wanting to chance an uncomfortable exchange if you don’t have to. Quickly you dry your hands, leaving a few things in the sink, and turn to head upstairs.
Wanda dodges you on her way down. Her headphones are in but she gives you a smile and a nod. 
“Why’s Fury here?” She asks while opening the fridge. 
“No idea,” you say, pausing halfway up the stairs. 
“Hey-” you turn back and she gives you one of her knowing looks-“wanna go for a hike?”
The house was nestled close to the mountains. With the tight space, it had become pretty normal for each of you to head out into the idyllic woods a few times a week at least. You smile, appreciating the out she’s giving you. 
“Sure.” 
It was early summer but there was still a crispness to the air that was bracing. Under the soft green shadows left by the trees, you forgot your discomfort at seeing Fury and let everything fall away.
You’ve lost yourself in the sounds of the forest when a small twig smacks you in the face, still glittering red as it falls to the ground. Your jaw drops as you spin to see Wanda laughing, disappearing into the woods, flying into the canopy. 
“That was dirty!” You call after her, your own feet leaving the ground. 
This game of telekinetic tag started one night that neither of you could sleep. The room you shared, hell the whole house, felt claustrophobic so you both headed into the woods. Now, if you were alone one of you could be counted on to kick it off. 
Halfway up a pine tree, you perch lightly on a branch. Your eyes scan the trees for a red shimmer. When you finally find it you reach up, plucking a pinecone from the tree, and propel it through the air. 
“Dammit!” You hear Wanda call out. 
A soft laugh rolls from you as you step off the branch, guiding your fall with your ability. At the ground, you don’t let your feet touch the earth to avoid making a sound. Instead, you push yourself between the trees like a human pinball, pivoting to make it harder for her to get a lock on you. 
This endless game had an unseen advantage, it allowed you to flex your power in ways you never truly had. Even training with Bucky you’d always fought to keep it in check, only use it when necessary, always afraid of just what it could do. 
With yours and Wanda’s game though, all those fears were gone. Neither of you was afraid of the other or worried you’d unsettle them--the fear of being a freak fell away and for just a moment you were both free. With that freedom, you felt yourself getting stronger. 
Though it hadn’t been the intention when this game started you were glad of it, the stronger you were the better. Your hand settles for just a moment on the still-healing wounds on your chest, a reminder of why you needed to be as adept as possible. You would become strong enough that no one could take him or anyone else you love from you ever again.  
One of the tendrils of power you sent out snaps back to you, indicating she’s close by. In less than a heartbeat, you’re into the canopy once more. Your toes barely touch the flexible pine branches as you fly. 
Just ahead you can see the clearing which was the unofficial neutral ground. Focusing you make a beeline for it. You’re almost there when a deluge of leaves and pine needles drop on your head from above. 
You drop to the ground, landing lightly, sputtering bits of foliage from your mouth while Wanda cackles.
“I cannot believe you,” you say tossing a handful of debris at her. Slipping your jacket off you give it a few good shakes, though some things still stick to the soft fleece. 
“Oh come on-” she nudges you with her shoulder- “that was hilarious and you know it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say as you lay your jacket on the ground--it was already going to need a wash so why not use it as a blanket. Laying down on it you sigh contentedly looking up at the picturesque blue sky with its fluffy white clouds dancing around. 
Wanda settles close by and you both take in the peace for a time, comfortable with the silence. You’d actually dozed off a bit when her voice wakes you. 
“Y/N?”
“Hmm?” You respond groggily. 
“I… Can I ask you something?”
“Sure,” the hesitation in her tone makes you nervous. You turn onto your side to look at her. 
“I didn’t mean to see it but…” One of the pebbles she was orbiting above her falls. “You were dreaming last night, you said a name--Nick, maybe? I’ve seen him before, it just seemed particularly strong--er, painful--last night…” She tilts her head to meet your eyes, “Are you ok?”
It was easy to forget that Wanda had more than telekinesis under her belt. 
“Yeah-” you force a tight grin- “I’m good. Just a dream. Sorry, I woke you.”
“Who is he?” Her eyes hold an emotion you can’t quite name and she doesn’t even acknowledge your weak lie. Something about the whole thing shakes you.
Sighing you sit up, resting your forearms on your knees. With effort, you swallow the lump in your throat, focus your gaze on the tree line to keep the tears from falling. 
“I’m sorry,” her voice so low it’s almost a whisper. “I try not to pick up things from people. Just when I’m asleep it’s harder and I-”
“Wanda,” you cut her off. “It’s absolutely fine. Never apologize for things you can’t control, especially not to me.” Looking over your shoulder you see her up on her knees, eyes focused on the grass she was plucking up blade by blade. 
“He was my brother.” At the telling word ‘was’ her eyes shoot to yours, brimming with emotion. “His name was Nix. Hydra-” Your voice cracks, forcing you to draw in a trembling breath. “Hydra killed him.” You don’t say, And everyone else, or, Because of me, but god you feel the weight of those truths. 
“I’m sorry...” She dashes tears away on her sweater sleeve. Your lips purse in something you hope looks more like a smile than a grimace.
After a long pause, she says, “I lost my brother too.” You feel your chest tighten. “When we fought Ultron.” She sniffles, “He died a hero so I guess that should make it better…” You almost pull her into your arms but you don’t know if she’d welcome the gesture. 
Instead, you sigh, “No, it shouldn’t.” Because she deserved to know that just because he died for a good cause didn’t mean he deserved to die at--you did the math--17 maybe 18.
She nods. When she looks back at you her expression is desperate, “Does it get better?” 
For a moment you’re struck dumb. She looks so young, suddenly. All you want is to protect her from this brutal world that takes so much mare than it gives. You want to tell her that it does, want to believe that lie so very much. But you just can’t…
“No,” you shake your head. “I don’t think anything will ever fill that blank space. At least for me.”
“Not even Bucky?” She doesn’t mean for the question to hurt. She’s just a girl who wants, on some level, to believe that love can heal all wounds, even ones this deep. 
“Not even him. But-” you reach out for her hand, happy when she takes it- “it helps. Knowing you can love someone, even after you know how much it hurts to lose the ones closest to you. It makes you… start to feel like a person again.”
Wanda nods, wiping at her eyes. Neither of you says more. The silence holds you close and you allow yourselves to be lost in it for just a little while. By the time you pry yourselves from your peaceful getaway, the sun is setting. 
Just before you exit the trees by the back of the property she rests a hand on your shoulder. Wanda opens her mouth to say something but nothing falls out. 
You’re about to ask when she flings her arms around your neck hugging you tight. You return the hug, hoping that maybe she felt less alone in her grief. 
You look toward the house, “You’ve got something here, Wanda, with these people. It won’t ever be the same but it doesn’t make them any less family.” 
“I know,” she says with a soft smile. 
As you get closer to the house you allow thoughts of sweet cornbread and spicy chili chase away the clouds of sadness hovering around your mind. Wanda lets out a contented groan as the smell of the chili envelops you both. 
“When can we eat that?”
You laugh, “About an hour. Cornbread needs to be made.”
“Can I just-” The lid of the pot is suddenly enveloped in red.
“Nope,” you say, slamming your power on top of her own. 
“Fine,” she sighs. “But tell me when it’s ready before Steve and Sam.”
“I will absolutely give you first dibs since you won today.”
Nodding with approval she floats a banana over to her. The glowing fruit follows her as she heads upstairs. 
Before you start the cornbread you make a fresh pot of coffee. Honestly, who would expect you to cook without caffeine? Humming whatever song pops into your head you line up the few ingredients you’ll need, determine that you’ll likely need a triple batch for this crowd, take a swig of coffee, and dive in. 
Once the oven is loaded you’ve all but forgotten the ache that opened up when you and Wanda spoke. Not wanting to lose this feeling you take your coffee to the breakfast table and pick up a book someone, Natasha you’d wager, left. You smile at the bawdy image on the cover, the woman had a thing for a good smutty romance, and open it up.
Quickly you lose yourself to the words and the homey smells. You could be almost anywhere good in your past. It was wonderful. 
When the kitchen door opens you expect to see Steve or Natasha but instead Fury is there sniffing the air. All the comfort you’d been wrapped in immediately falls away. 
His gaze finally lands on you, “I was hoping I’d catch you.”
“Where else can I go,” your tone is frigid.
He doesn’t acknowledge your snipe, “Can I have a word?”
You glance at the timer, “You have eight minutes.” 
Nodding he sits across from you, sliding a manila folder over. You take it, opening the front flap slowly. Immediately your mouth goes dry. 
“Do you government types get off by showing people documentation of the worst things that have happened to them?” You fling the file across the table. 
“Technically I’m not a government type anymore.” You raise a brow at him but he continues. “But no. That file is, to the best of my knowledge, the last remaining documentation of your time with Hydra.” 
He slides it back to you. This time your hand rests flat on the smooth surface as you try to process exactly what he means. Thankfully, Fury wasn’t in the mood to hold back. 
“You’ve been wiped from the dark web, every IP that accessed your information has been hunted down, any paper copies that could be located were destroyed-” he pauses, meeting your disbelieving stare- “and I pulled that one from Ross’ personal files myself.”
Almost reverently you open the file once more. Flipping through you stop at the photos Ross had displayed, the ones with just the faintest glimpses of your family. A trembling finger traces the edge of Nix’s image, swallowing the lump in your throat. 
“Barnes-” the sound of Bucky’s name makes your eyes shoot to Fury once more- “was well before my time. But you… What happened to you, to your people, that was on my watch.” He pauses, expression sincere, “I’m sorry. You deserved better.”
Guilt rushes over you in a wave. You had greatly misjudged this man. He deserved better than that. 
“Thank you.”
Fury nods, “Well, that’s what I was here to deliver.” He stands, turning to go.
“You should stay and eat. I promise it’ll be good,” you say with a genuine smile.
He takes a deep breath, “I think I will.” 
-
Within the next two weeks, it’s time for you all to move on. 
For a few days, you light in the Austrian city of Strausberg, waiting on instructions from Fury. Once received you head just outside of Krakow in Poland to work on flushing out a human trafficking operation. 
Though few would argue Steve’s de facto position as the leader of this group the necessity to stay as under the radar as possible means you all rely heavily on Natasha’s espionage roots. Her masterful ability at laying out quiet but extremely effective plans and countermoves ensure that not a whisper of who was behind this mission slips out.
The more you’re in the field the more you’re surprised to find that you’re able to put your ill-begotten skill set to good use. It feels like spitting in Hydra’s face which, of course, makes victory all the sweeter. 
You’re also surprised at how it makes the ache of missing Bucky lessen even a little. This does, you’re ashamed to admit to yourself, make victory just a touch bitter.
Six weeks later you’re all packing your bags once more though you don’t all head in the same direction. Natasha and Wanda opt to take some personal time away, for what exactly neither specifies but they agree to one be gone for a couple of weeks and to be in touch. Hill goes with Fury, focused on some other clandestine mission. This leaves you, Sam, and Steve to fend for yourselves with little to do in Belarus of all places.
Sam walks into the kitchen of the small house the three of you were staying in as you and Steve clean blood off each other’s faces. 
“Y’all…” He sighs, setting bags of groceries down. “I swear, we need to find something to do before the two of you kill each other.”
You laugh, “A little training never hurt anyone.”
“Your black eye begs to differ,” he says from behind the fridge door. 
“You should see what she did to my back,” Steve groans dramatically as he plops into a dining chair.
“Wow. Hangs up his shield and turns into a big beardy baby.” Steve hurls his washcloth at your face playfully. Sam just rolls his eyes at both of you.  
Looking at Steve’s bruises, your bloody knuckles, and feeling the swelling on your own face--maybe Sam had a slight point. It felt good though. Steve’s style was different from Bucky’s and since he was less afraid of hurting you, it was closer to a real fight. To Bucky’s credit, he hadn’t been wrong when he said neither of you knew when to quit. But what were a few bruises between friends?
“Sure you don’t wanna go a round, Wilson?” Steve asks. 
“Yeah-” Sam sits at the table with you both- “don’t think I need a reminder on where I fall in this ranking. Last time I went around with her I thought I was gonna lose a lung.”
“I did not hit you that hard.” 
“Some of us are just plain old people and have a very different definition of hard.”
“Oh come on Sam,” you say with a smirk. “You’re not plain.”
“Why must you wound me, woman?!” He exclaims. 
Between the banter and laughter from the three of you, the sound of Steve’s phone ringing is lost. When it goes off again he notices, glancing at the screen his expression shifts from joy to severity so fast it’s jarring. His eyes dart to you and away before he pushes away from the table. 
“I need to take this,” he says heading for the door.
“Steve?” You don’t try to hide your desperation as you shoot up, sending your chair slamming into the wall behind you. 
He turns, a tight smile on his lips. “I promise I will tell you everything I can as soon as I know.” His hand rests on the knob as he says over his shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”
Sam rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, guiding you into the living room. You curl your legs under you on the squeaky couch. He sits beside you, offering his hand. You hold it, taking comfort in his firm grip. 
“He’s gonna be ok, Y/N.”
“What if he’s not?” You say in a flat tone. 
Sam’s hand squeezes yours, “If he’s not, you will be. You’ve got us.” He pulls your hand toward him, “Come here.” You don’t resist him and lean into him as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight.
Surrounded by Sam’s warmth you try to convince yourself that he’s right. Maybe you could be ok, maybe you could keep your promise to Bucky… Maybe. Something in your heart knows that you’re just trying to lie to yourself.
Right back, turns into over an hour. Sam doesn’t try to give you any other words of comfort. He’s just there for you and that’s enough. 
When the door opens you literally fly up from your seat, power coming in one rush. Forcing yourself down, you look at Steve, unable to speak. When you register the genuine smile and wide eyes a lump rises in your throat. 
He reaches up, pulling you the rest of the way to the floor. “He’s ok. They did it.” You stare in disbelief, it had been only four months... 
“He’s awake, healthy, and they got that shit out of his head. Hydra’s triggers are gone.” You shake your head, unwilling or unable to accept such good news. “He’s gonna be fine, truly.” 
Your hand rushes to your mouth to contain the sob as you fold at the waist, hot tears spilling out. Steve envelopes you in his arms, tugging you to his chest. A moment later Sam joins, and you’re surrounded by love and support as you weep, for once, in absolute joy. 
Pushing away you take a jittery breath, “Can--When can we see him?” 
Steve’s blue eyes sparkle with his own happy tears, “I don’t know yet. Soon hopefully.” He brushes a tear from your cheek with a calloused finger before pressing a brotherly kiss to the top of your head. 
“Woo!” Sam whoops. “I knew I got steak for dinner tonight for a reason.”
“Fuck yes!” You turn, giving him a tight hug. “Whiskey, we need to celebrate.” 
“If you can stand more good news,” Steve says a bit coy. You and sam stare at him waiting, “Heard from Nat too. She’s meeting up with Wanda and they’ll be here tomorrow evening.” 
The thought of bringing Bucky into this collection of people one day, maybe far sooner than you ever allowed yourself to hope for, keeps you on a cloud of happiness for the next few days. 
You’re enjoying your morning coffee with Natasha and Wanda, pulling bits of information about their individual time away when Steve pops in. 
“Can I steal you?” The smile playing at the edges of his lips make your heart skip. 
“Sure.” You follow him to the backyard. 
“We head out today,” he says. It takes all you’ve got to not jump up and down like a kid hearing they’re going to Disney. “1100 hours.”
“Are we all-”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Just us. We should pack everything in case they need to move on before we get back. We’ll be catching a ride so they’ll keep the jet.”
“Where are we going?” You ask, brows knitting. 
“Can you wait a bit longer to find out?” You shrug in aquesiance. 
The next few hours are both the longest and shortest of your life. Your heart aches for him but you hate to leave so quickly. When you’d asked Steve if you had a timeframe he wasn’t sure, it made this goodbye feel strange.  
“Ok, be sure to tell your cyborg boyfriend-” Sam begins.
“I thought we agreed that per your definition of cyborg he no longer qualifies thanks to Stark’s fuckery.” You still wanted to rip that assholes arm off to show him how it feels. 
“Nerds,” Natasha shoots at you both. 
“Whatever,” Sam shakes his head. “Be sure to tell him he doesn’t have my approval yet.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s gonna go over beautifully.” 
Sam laughs pulling you into a hug. “I’m happy for you,” he says by your ear. You give him a big smile as you pull away, not trusting yourself not to cry if you speak. 
Clearing your throat loudly you say, “It’s not like this is goodbye, I’ll be back.” Though Steve admitted he didn’t have an exact timeframe. 
Natasha sighs, “It better be soon. We can’t just rely on Sam to cook. He’ll kill us.” 
You giggle, “This is true.” 
A red glowing spiral bound book smacks into your head drawing your attention to Wanda who had been lingering in a corner. You pluck it from the air, opening the sketch pad to reveal crisp blank pages. 
“Your other one is getting full,” she says with a sniffle. Surrounding her in your power you drag her to you and hug her close. 
“Your it,” she whispers. 
“Fair,” you say, dashing a tear as you release her. 
See you soons exchanged you and Steve head for the door.
“Hey!” Sam yells after you both. “You should also be sure to tell him who gave you that shiner!” Steve looks down at you, back at Sam, and lets out a pained laugh, fingers running through his hair. 
Leave it to Sam. The two of you walk into the bright day with a chorus of laughter from your friends following you, chasing away the sadness of leaving. 
The meeting place was about an hour’s walk from where you were staying in an industrial park that had shuttered for the night. Steve leads you into a warehouse building, clearly confident in where you were headed. 
Fluorescents lit the space, the harsh light almost brighter than the sun. Looking around you notice two women, arms crossed looking somewhat annoyed, speak by the loading ramp of a jet that puts the Quin to shame. They silence as soon as the two of you are close. 
“Captain!” An oddly familiar voice calls. 
When Prince T’Challa rounds the jet you immediately flinch back, feeling the fresh scars on your chest burn with the memory of sharp claws. Another woman following him joins the other two. 
He holds his hands up, “I come in peace.” His smile seems true but you still glare at Steve, demanding an explanation. 
“Prince T’Challa-”
“Just T’Challa, please.”
Steve nods, “Has been harboring Bucky.”
“What?!” Your tone sounds more venomous than you mean it to. 
“I made a poor judgment call and acted out of grief and vengeance. Sergeant Barnes wasn’t deserving of the blame I put on him. I wanted to make it right.” His eyes move to your chest for an instant. “I hope I can make right the harm I did to you too… If you’ll let me.” You look back to Steve, still in shock. 
“I trust him,” he says with a nod.
T’Challa extends a hand to you. For just a breath you hesitate before taking it in your own. 
“You swear he’s safe?” You ask, eyes boring into his. 
“I do.” 
“Ok.” 
“Can we leave?” The woman asks T’Challa. 
He laughs, “Yes we can leave as long as these two are good.” You and Steve exchange a quick glance and nod. “Good. Let’s move out.”
-
According to the three-dimensional map, that you can only comprehend as fucking magic, you’re already almost to Wakanda in a little over four hours. Your brain can’t fully comprehend how but this jet was full of mindblowing elements. 
Your foot begins to bounce rapidly, anxiety spiking for some reason the closer you get. 
“Hey,” Steve sits beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. 
“Hey.” 
“What are you nervous about?”
“I’m not-” He sets his own heavy boot over yours, stopping your bounce. “I don’t know.”
“Here,” Okoye holds out a glass. “Tea, it will help.”
“Thanks.” You hated tea but she didn’t strike you as the kind of woman who’s kindness one took lightly. Taking a sip you’re actually surprised that you like the spicy earthy taste. “What is this?” 
“Tea,” she says with a smirk sitting across from you crossing her legs casually. You raise a brow and she laughs. “It’s a special, personal, blend.” 
“She bought it at a tea shop,” T’Challa says walking past her. She scoffs and kicks the back of his calf. He laughs, “But they made it for her so I guess it counts.”
“Three until we’re at the barrier,” Nailah calls back. 
Okoye’s smile fills her face, “You’re going to want to see this.’ She stands, nodding to the front. You look to Steve and he has the same smile, nodding for you to follow. 
You all crowd the front of the jet as you rapidly approach what looked to you like the side of a mountain. No one else seemed nervous though… Assuming this wasn’t the calmest suicide mission ever you swallow your exclamation and watch… Just as you brace yourself for the impact the goddamn mountain opens--no fades away like a hologram--revealing a massive river city nestled in the mountains. The late afternoon sun makes the structures sparkle, trams seem to hover around the buildings, green spaces seamlessly flow through everything. 
“Holy shit,” you breathe in absolute wonder. 
“Welcome to Wakanda,” T’Challa says, beaming. 
When the jet gently touches down you finally look at Steve. 
“I know,” he laughs, “believe me.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you toward your waiting bags, the weight of his arm the only thing keeping you from floating off the ground in sheer excitement. 
The two of you follow the others off the jet onto a large landing deck. 
“Finally!” Someone calls as you all step off. A slight woman with a smirk on her face stands waiting with her arms crossed. 
“What?” T’Challa responds. “We made excellent time.” She sighs loudly, rolling her eyes. 
“Shuri, this is Y/N.” He turns to you as you walk up. Her face explodes in a Cheshire-like grin, extending a hand to you.
“It’s so good to actually meet you!” Her handshake quickly turns into an enthusiastic hug. 
You huff out an awkward laugh, “Do I even want to know how my reputation proceeds me?” Your eyes slide to Steve who shakes his head to indicate it wasn’t him. 
“Oh! Bucky talks about you often,” she says with a soft smile. At the mention of his name you look around the platform, perhaps a little desperately. “He’s not here. We’ve got a raft ready to go see him though.”
“Is going immediately a good idea?” T’Challa asks cautiously.
“Of course!” Shuri says with a shrug. “Plus, he hasn’t had a positive surprise like this yet. It will be good research.”
Steve shoots you a glance, his fresh worry mirroring your own. There isn’t time to ask more questions before you’re loaded up and heading off once more. 
You want to be awestruck by the goddamn hovercraft you’re standing on, and the breathtaking… everything you’re passing but all you can hear in your head is Shuri saying he hadn’t been surprised yet. What could happen? What risk was there? Was this a bad idea? Would everything be broken by yours and Steve’s sudden arrival? Would he even want-
All thoughts cease as the craft crests a small hill. There, sitting by a small lake was a man looking out at the water and the fiery sky. His hair, so much longer, hid his face but then you see a hand raised in a familiar motion, fingers running through this hair.
You weren’t sure you could have stopped it if you wanted to. A burst of power propels you from the craft, sending you into the air. Vaguely you hear Shuri let out a sound, Steve says something, but you’re quickly too far away to hear. You push against the air with all you’ve got, body humming, heart thundering, arms aching to hold him. 
Ten feet away from him you land silently, suddenly nervous again. Worried of breaking him somehow… But then-
“Bucky?” You say softly, almost a whisper. 
His back straightens but he doesn’t move immediately. Fear fills you, bad call wrong fuck-
Bucky plucks a small earbud from and turns, blue eyes glassy, face filled with wonder. He stands, rounding the bench so slowly it feels like forever. 
“I’m not dreaming?” He asks sincerely. Tears make his image ripple, turning everything into a watercolor. Biting your lip you shake your head no, taking a few steps forward, each one less grounded than the last. 
“Y/N…” His smile, unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 
You don’t rush into one another’s arms. The space between you closes with tentative steps. So like how you fell in love, a short distance carefully traveled until… A familiar calloused hand tenderly wipes the tears from your cheeks. 
Reaching up you take his face in your hands. His eyes flutter closed as you dash away his tears when they open once more you nearly gasp at their beauty. 
Bucky’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your lips to his. There’s no resistance as you melt into him. 
The kiss begins tender but quickly succumbs to your hungry need for one another and the world falls away. This is all there is, he is all you feel, taste, breathe. 
Gasping for air, you both pull away. Resting your forehead against his you realize that the world literally fell away. Unconsciously you’d enveloped the both of you in your power, sending you about five feet off the ground. His eyes glitter with the wonder they always hold when it comes to your ability. 
Gently, you lower you both back down, unable to look away from him. Once gravity has you again though you can no longer hold back the question that weighed on you since Steve handed you Bucky’s letter. 
“Did you really think I wouldn’t still have you?” He looks away and you tilt his face back to you. “I will always love all of you, James Buchannan Barnes. Always.” Your voice cracks on the final word, emotions overwhelming you. 
He kisses you once more. “Goddamn, I love you, Y/N.” You let out a little laugh and press your lips to his briefly before he pulls you away, thumb lightly touching the bruise at your eye.
“What happened?” His tone suddenly concerned. “Who-” Steve clears his throat from behind you, cutting him off. A snicker slips from you as you turn to face your blushing friend.
“Uh-” Steve runs an awkward hand through his hair- “That would be my fault.” Bucky’s eyes dart from his best friend back to you in confusion and worry. 
“Friendly fire,” you shrug. 
He rolls his eyes hard, laughing, “I knew I shouldn’t have left the two of you alone.”
Steve laughs, clearly relieved Bucky wasn’t pissed about giving his girl a shiner. Your heart swells as the two of them exchange a long tight embrace. When they separate Steve sniffs hard, clearing his throat. 
“You should see what she did to me,” he says with a sidelong glance at you. 
Laughing you respond, “Oh my god. You are not going to let it go, are you? It’s not even that bad.” Steve raises a brow and lifts his tee, a dark plum bruise spreading from his back around his ribs. 
You grimace, “Ok. Maybe…”
Okoye lets out a low whistle, “Damn.” She looks to you, “We absolutely have to go a round.” She, T’Challa, and Shuri stroll up from where they’d been waiting, giving the three of you some space. 
“Oko, loves a challenge,” T’Challa chuckles. 
“I’m down,” you say lightly. Bucky’s arm wraps around your waist, holding you close.
“Tomorrow,” she says authoritatively. “Though-” she eyes the two of you playfully- “we’ll make it in the afternoon. I won’t steal your woman away before you two get to catch up, Wolf Man.”
“Wolf Man?” You ask looking up at Bucky’s smiling face. 
Shuri laughs, “The kids started calling him the White Wolf. It just sort of stuck.” 
“Steve’s looking a little more like a Wolf Man than me though so I may not keep my title for long.” Steve rubs his beard and gives an agreeing nod. 
“Why don’t we all stay here to talk,” T’Challa takes a few steps toward a circle of low stone benches by the edge of the water. “The sunset is too beautiful to miss.”
As the sky burns in magnificent colors above you all T’Challa and Okoye walk you and Steve through what happened after the events in Siberia. Shuri exclaims that’s why it took so long to get Bucky’s treatment completed if what she accomplished wasn’t miraculous. She explains how she managed to circumnavigate the triggers and how it should remain effective longterm. Sometime during the talk a few folks arrive setting up a table quietly with food. 
“I definitely want to continue monitoring for any changes but it seems that this treatment could be helpful in a lot of cases,” Shuri’s voice drips with excitement. “Honestly, I don’t know why others aren’t utilizing AI in this way. It just makes sense.” You can’t help but laugh. It seemed that she often forgot that not everyone had a mind like hers. 
“If we’re going to have any more technical talk I can’t do it on an empty stomach,” Okoye says standing. 
-
By the end of dinner, your cheeks ache from smiling. 
T’Challa stretches, letting out a long yawn. “I think I’m ready to head back.” Okoye nods and Shuri lets out an exasperated sound. He laughs, “You can keep pummeling Y/N with questions tomorrow if she’s not ready to scream.”
“After what you’ve done, Shuri, I’m an open book.” 
“You may regret that,” she says with a wink. 
“We’ve got a room for you Captain,” Okoye says. “And you, Y/N.” For a second your chest tightens, the thought of leaving Bucky’s side draining the joy you’d been soaking in. “If you want it that is.” 
“Thank you but…” You look up to Bucky, suddenly unsure. “I’d rather stay with you if-” His smile silences you. 
“Of course,” Okoye’s warm smile coloring her words. 
Once they all head back to the city Bucky leads your into his cozy hut. Fire-like lights illuminate the space as soon as you enter, belying the low-tech aesthetic of the space. 
Your eyes wander around, soaking it all in until they land on Bucky. His expression is so tender and full of love, it makes your stomach flutter. 
Without a word, he closes the small space between you. His lips press against your forehead before he looks into your eyes, right hand cupping your cheek. 
“I dreamed about you,” he says in a rough whisper. You can’t help but smile. 
“I dreamed about your smile,” his thumb gently touches the laugh lines at the corners of your mouth. “Your eyes,” a finger tracing your brow. Your hands rest on his hips, holding him close. 
“Your touch,” he presses his body even closer. “Your taste,” he kisses your prone lips, savoring the feeling. Your body shivers with desire as his hand slides down your back, fingers slipping just under the hem of your shirt. “The way you feel.” 
“I dreamed about all of you, but here you are and I realize my dreams didn’t do you justice.”  He studies your face before continuing, “You are so much more than I could ever have dreamed, Y/N, than I ever could have hoped for. And I love you so much more than I think I ever realized before.”
Your eyes sting with tears as you pull his face to yours, kissing him softly. He was right. You thought you knew how much you missed him, how much you loved him--but you didn’t really know until you had him back in your arms. 
When you pull back his hand wanders to your chest, softly touching the thick pink scars there. For a moment pain floods his features before he leans down and kisses each one, causing your breath to catch.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin. 
“No,” you say firmly. “Don’t.” Your hand gently runs down the beautiful fabric draped over his left shoulder. 
When you meet his gaze he nods subtly. Hooking the knot with your fingers you pull it over his head. Your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest before peeling the garment back. Only then do you slide your eyes over to his left side. 
The silver metal you’d grown so used to seeing is gone, replaced with a dark smooth material. It’s warm to the touch, the end a smooth cap. 
“Does it bother you?” Bucky asks. 
“Of course not,” you assure him. “I just… Stark...” There’s a bite to your voice. 
“Honestly, I’m glad it’s gone.” His eyes are steady and you know he’s being honest. It was a reminder. 
His fingers run along your jaw, a smoky grin curling his lips. Desire explodes in you. 
At first, you’re both fumbling a bit, the new mechanics of the situation and the time away needing to be worked through. It doesn’t matter. You laugh, kiss, and relearn one another inch by inch. 
-
Bucky wakes but doesn’t open his eyes, too afraid that yesterday was a sweet dream. 
He notes the earthen smell of his hut, the feel of his soft bedding, the sound of the lake… The sound of your breathing, deep and steady. 
Not a dream. You were really here. You were really safe. 
He opens his eyes, looking over at your sleeping form. The golden light from outside slips beneath the curtain making you practically glow. One arm is curled under your pillow, the other languidly reaches in his direction. 
Sitting up slowly he studies you closer. The way your hair falls into your face, the length starting to dust your shoulders. The gentle curve of your spine. And he hoped he wasn’t imagining the slight smile on your sleeping lips. 
Before you and Steve arrived he knew that eventually, you’d come together, but that he’d have to choose between the safety Wakanda afforded him and you. For a brief period, he wasn’t sure what the right choice was. Was it better to stay away, to avoid putting more of a target on your back? 
Now he knows it doesn’t matter. Be it the right choice or not, nothing could make him leave your side again. Nothing. 
Tenderly his fingers run a path down your back, not wanting to wake you but needing to touch you. The latticework of scars there looking like golden embroidery in the light, just something that makes you all the more beautiful to him. 
A small noise slips from between your lips. He rests his hand on your low back as you stir. 
“Bucky,” you breath out, expression almost disbelieving.
“Goodmorning, sweetheart.” Your smile makes his heart rabbit in his chest. 
-
Shuri glances from the readings before her and back to Bucky, a look of mild concern coloring her features. 
“Everything alright, Bucky?” 
“Of course,” he lies. He’d spent the morning oscillating between suffocating joy at having you back and paralyzing fear over knowing he won’t be able to say goodbye to you… and just what that means. 
“I’m sure Okoye won’t go too hard on her,” she gives him a reassuring smile. 
He huffs out a small laugh. While he went to Shuri’s lab for his daily check-in Okoye had stolen you away for a sparring session. Admittedly, he wasn’t the most comfortable with that either, though he wasn’t worried about you. 
“We can call this good for today. We’ll meet them at the training field.” Shuri, ever four steps of everyone, doesn’t wait for him to agree just begins grabbing things to leave. 
It’s a short walk from Shuri’s lab to the training field. His mind doesn’t have time to wander with her constant excited chatter. While he may not fully comprehend half of what she tells him he knows she likes to have a sounding board, talking helps her narrow in on whatever brilliant thing her mind is working on. He’s happy Shuri is comfortable enough with him to do this. 
They stop under a large awning, slightly elevated from the large open-air training space, to watch you and Okoye have at it. She lands a hard blow to the side of your face and he flinches, knuckles white as he grips the railing. 
“Come on!” He hears Okoye taunt, circling you. “You’re holding back,” she tosses a blunt spear between her hands. “I want to see what you can really do.”
A smirk curls your lips before you spit red into the dirt. “Alright.”
Your shoulders roll back, feet planted like he taught you. With an almost imperceptible twitch of your head, the spear flies from Okoye’s grip, landing in your hand. It’s a showy move but you’ve left yourself open just enough. 
Bucky bites his tongue to keep from calling out as Okoye takes the chance, moving with the grace and speed of a trained warrior. The moment she moves to kick your abdomen you’re suddenly airborne, using the spear as a pivot point. Okoye’s foot meets nothing but empty space sending her stumbling while you bring both feet down into her side.  
She rolls away, body already coiled to right herself. You’re faster though. 
He watches, slack-jawed, as your toes barely touch the ground before you propel yourself with speed through the air to Okoye. She’s barely registered your presence before the spear point is pointed at her throat. 
“I think by your rules that’s a win,” you say, a bit breathless. 
The sound of slow clapping from behind him makes Bucky jump. He’d been so engrossed in watching that he hadn’t noticed T’Challa and Steve enter. 
“Why thank you my king,” Okoyes says as you pull her to her feet. 
“Don’t be a sore loser now general,” T’Challa teases. She throws him a sideways glare. 
“Impressive,” Bucky says as you walk up. 
“I had a good teacher,” you say before pressing your lips to his briefly. 
“I’m pretty sure I didn’t teach you that.” 
“So,” Shuri begins, a peculiar tension in her tone, “does she pass?” You give Bucky a questioning look but he only shrugs, just as confused. 
“Oh yes,” Okoye pours water over her head, wiping her face with a towel. “If only because I demand a rematch.” 
“Did I miss something?” You ask turning to face the others. They all have grins on their faces, even Steve. 
“Let’s sit,” T’Challa nods to a small seating area. Glancing at Bucky, you slide your hand in his before following.
T’Challa’s expression is open but he lets out a long sigh before beginning. “I offered Bucky asylum in Wakanda because I realized he’d been just as much a victim of Zemo’s hatred as my father. I feel the same goes for you.” He pauses, seeming to gather his thoughts. “You had no choice but to become involved in this mess, your whole life was turned upside down… again. I feel partially responsible for that.”
“I don’t-” He cuts you off with a raised hand. 
“I’d like to offer you the chance to stay here as well.” 
Bucky draws in a sharp breath. Your eyes, large and disbelieving turn to him. Neither of you dare speak. 
“There is one stipulation.”
“Of course,” you say almost breathless.
“Given our recent… incident, we are aware of the need to bolster our forces. If you chose to stay you’d be expected to serve as a defender of Wakanda under General Okoye should the need arise.” Shuri makes a small noise and T’Challa laughs. “Go on.”
“I’d also be interested in studying your ability,” she says. Bucky sees your body instantly tense. 
“Nothing without your consent,” Shuri tries to assure you. “I can also do as I’ve done for Bucky and look into exactly what those monsters may have done to avoid any potential issues in the future.”
Your gaze falls to Steve, an unspoken question hanging between you both. 
“They’ll understand,” Steve says smiling. 
When you look at him once more his mouth goes dry. He should tell you to do what feels right, to do what was best for you, but the words stick in his throat along with his breath. 
Bucky watches as all question and doubt drains from your expression, replaced with a softness he can’t name. Your fingers gently trace his jaw and air floods into his lungs, tension fleeing him. 
You turn back to T’Challa, “Yes. I… anything to stay I’ll do it. And Shuri-” you take a deep shaky breath- “I’d like to know what they did too-”
“Everything at your pace I swear,” Shuri cuts you off, almost bouncing with excitement. 
“I believe you,” you say with a small laugh. 
“Thank you,” he says to T’Challa, holding his gaze. T’Challa smiles and nods, understanding the weight of Bucky’s words. 
-
You expected saying goodbye to Steve would be hard but not this hard. His arms crush you tight into his chest and you just know your tears are soaking into his tee. Sniffing hard you pull away. 
“Tell them…” You trail off, wiping your eyes. Sorry wasn’t right, you could already hear Sam calling you out on that bullshit, and you didn’t know when you’d see them again. 
“Tell them, I’ll miss them and that this isn’t goodbye.” It hurt to say it, fresh tears finding their way down your cheeks, but it was the truth. You wouldn’t let this be goodbye. Steve nods, quickly wiping at his own eyes. He looks at Bucky, forcing a slight smile. 
“There are a few people you’re gonna have to answer to later, Buck.”
“I look forward to it,” Bucky says, his hand resting on the small of your back. Steve looks at you both before pulling you into a group hug. 
“I’m so happy for you,” he says softly before releasing you. 
“We’ll see you later, punk.” Bucky’s smile is soft and sad. 
Steve laughs softly, “Jerk.” 
You and Bucky stand on the landing deck until the jet is out of sight, silent, just holding tightly to one another. After all what was there to say?
Shuri offers to give you both a lift back to Bucky’s place… your place? How strange to think of it that way. On the ride her easy conversation is comforting. 
As soon as you say your goodbyes to her you head to the edge of the lake, a bit dazed after everything. The sun is just barely above the horizon, casting the sky in breathtaking shades from yellow to deep twilight purple. You take it all in, the beauty almost overwhelming. 
 “Y/N,” Bucky calls to you. Turning back you see him by the doorway. He extends his hand but you don’t go to him immediately. Instead, you take him in, lit in soft golden light. 
He was impossible, this man you loved. Impossible that his kind heart could remain after so much pain, impossible he could survive all he did, impossible that he loved you with all he was despite all you were. And the most impossible of all, he was here, safe, reaching out for your hand. He was yours. 
Finally, you go to him, his palm engulfing yours, tugging you in for a kiss. Bucky pulls back, looking down at you with such love it takes your breath away. 
“We’re home, doll.” 
Nothing had ever felt truer.
[THANK YOU ALL AGAIN!]
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untaemedqueen · 4 years
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Peregrination > j.jk
Chapter 12.
Conceal (v) -  keep (something) secret; prevent from being known or noticed
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You stare at the sky wide-eyed. You clear your throat as your eyebrows furrow. You must have heard him wrong. You've been dating for one day. "Y/N?" Jeongguk asks quietly as a strong breeze blows. He asked you to move in with him. What would you say? You weren't ready, right? That'd be too fast. Although, you technically have known him for years upon years. He was the most comfortable part of yourself. He made up a large piece of who you are and you know it was vice versa. Jeongguk swallows awkwardly before looking down at his hands. "I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry." He mumbles looking out at the flower beds in front of him. You sit up quickly putting your forehead to his shoulder. "Can I have some time to think about it?" You ask him. Jeongguk smacks his lips together before closing his eyes and sighing. He kisses the top of your head and hugs you tightly to him, “Of course you can. Sorry for being so abrupt about it.” He says into your hair. Jeongguk takes a second taking in your green tea scented hair, “I’m just excited, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hold you in my arms and I just don’t ever want to let you go.” Jeongguk whispers making you smile. You squeeze him tighter taking in a deep breath. “I’m not going anywhere, so we can take our time.” An old woman approaches with a small white refrigeration cart, “Excuse me, ma’am!” Jeongguk says happily putting your legs off of him and down on the floor. The older woman approaches with a smile, she lefts her long visor that she’s her from the sun as she looks at Kookie. “What are you selling?” Jeongguk asks cutely, you fold your arms and smile at his aegyo as you cross your legs. “Yakult and some ice creams.” She says stopping the cart, she opens up the top of the cart as Jeongguk peaks in. “Ah! Y/N! Ahjumma has our favorites!” Jeongguk says looking over at you happily, you pull down your face mask with a smile. “I’ll take the red bean and the dwaejibar please!” Jeongguk says pulling out his wallet. He pulls off his face mask and the old lady looks him over. “You sure are handsome! Look at you!” She says putting her hands on his face and squeezing his cheeks, he chuckles wrinkling his nose before bowing. “Thank you.” She looks over at you and winks before digging out the ice creams. Jeongguk hands her 10,000 won before handing you the ice creams. “Ahjumma, make sure you drink water today. It’s very hot out in the sun!” You tell her as she thanks Jeongguk for his purchase. “Ey! You are sweet! I will!” She says ask she continues down the garden path. Jeongguk sits down next to you before kissing your cheek. “You’re sweeter than this ice cream.” He teases opening up his popsicle. “When I want to be.” You say nonchalanty ripping open the packaging of your dwaejibar. (First off if y’all haven’t had one, shit is LIT okay. It’s a vanilla ice cream bar FILLED with strawberry sauce and it has chocolate pieces on the outside. Shit is fire. If you ever go to Korea please EAT IT!) 
You munch happily as Jeongguk licks his popsicle. “When we get back, it’ll be so much fun to tell the guys we’re dating.” You stop for a second before swallowing your ice cream. “We can’t tell them!” You say quickly shaking your hand wide-eyed. Jeongguk looks over confused, “Why not?” He asks raising an eyebrow. “Well...Because...” You stutter closing your eyes trying to comprehend why you’re actually against it. “Wouldn’t it make them feel awkward if they saw us together all the time?” Jeongguk puts his popsicle into the bag it came in. “They see us all the time together anyway.” He says getting irritated. You smack your lips together feeling the stickiness from the ice cream, “Yeah but won’t they feel uncomfortable seeing us as a couple?” You ask nervously, the vanilla ice cream begin to run down your pinky from the stagnant heat of the day. Jeongguk rolls his eyes before looking at you sadly, “Why do you even care?” He whines, “Because they’re our friends too. Stop thinking about it selfishly and put yourself in Namjoon’s shoes or Hoseok’s.” You say putting your hand on his knee. Jeongguk has always been selfish, you know this but sometimes it just take a bit of an extra something to make him see reason. Jeongguk stares past you as he thinks. Any way he sees it, it’s unfair to the both of you. “It doesn’t mean that we aren’t going to be all lovey dovey in the privacy of our homes, we’ll still kiss and be together and fuck and do all those things.” Jeongguk looks over at you as you say the word fuck, a sly smirk spreading over his face. “Go on.” He mutters making you shove his knee with a laugh, “I just want to show you off y’know, like telling the hyungs, ‘Wah! I got the girl of my dreams.’” You look around before standing up, “IU is here? Where is she?” Jeongguk cringes before pulling your hand. “Shut up! You know that’s just a crush!” You stick your tongue out playfully as Jeongguk pulls you on to his lap. “You do know that we have to be private about it anyway, right?” Jeongguk nods sullenly before squeezing you and rocking you in his arms. “I know. We’ll hide it from the guys until we’re ready. Okay? I’ll try not to be as selfish with you. I promise.” Jeongguk kisses your temple before taking out his popsicle once more. “Eat the ice cream before it melts, baby.” Jeongguk mutters before kissing you gently.
You sit in the car tapping the dashboard as you wait for Jeongguk to get in the car. “Are we going back to my apartment or your house?” Jeongguk asks as he places the kimchi your mother gave him on the floor of the backseat. You look behind the drivers seat at him. “Then it would be like we live together anyway.” You say narrowing your eyes at him. “Then just move your stuff in slowly into my apartment and sell the house and we’ll save it in the bank for our kids tuition.” Jeongguk says nonchalantly barely moving his lips, he fixes his black jean jacket as you whine loudly. “Yah! Stop saying stuff like that!” You complain to him as he shuts the back door. He opens the front door to the car before jumping in and putting on his face mask. “Stop being so embarrassed at me saying that stuff. It’s almost as if you like it.” He says starting the car, you blush before putting your face on the door sighing loudly. “Why are you like this?” You mutter as he grabs your hand and intertwining your fingers. “Because you’re my girl.” He says giving an insouciant shrug as he starts to drive. He stares ahead at the road, a small smile creeping on to his face as he takes off down the road. Your hand fit perfectly in his and while you were sulking over the embarrassing words that made your heart flutter, Jeongguk couldn’t help but think about how lucky he was to be in this situation. You on the other hand felt guilty, guilty that you felt like you were hiding something from Kookie. Guilty that you were you but not in the truest sense. Jeongguk raises your hand as he pulls down his face mask with his pinky before kissing the back of your hand. “So my apartment then.” Jeongguk says breaking the silence in the car. You huff out before sitting up straight. “Fine, we’ll go to your apartment.” Jeongguk chuckles before squeezing your hand. “You make it sound so miserable, you have many things of your over my apartment. You have clothes and a toothbrush, all you need to bring is your birth control and that’s it. I could take care of everything else.” He boasts, you snort leaning back into the comfy seat. “Stop talking about it, you know I said I have to think about it.” Jeongguk laughs gently puling his face mask back up. “You know I don’t let things go easily.” That was true, when he puts his mind to something nothing can deter him from it. You put on some music making Jeongguk hum along, hoping that it would take his mind off it. “ Tell me what I got to do, hurry and turn on the bluetooth.” Jeongguk sings to Zico as he picks up speed driving back toward home.
“Matter of fact, don’t bring your birth control.” Jeongguk says as you enter the streets of Seoul as you stop in traffic. “Why?” You ask with a laugh, “Then we can get out family started early and get it out of the way.” You shove his shoulder making him give a silently chuckle as he opens his mouth and wrinkles his nose. “You better find something else to talk about before I roll myself out of this car while it’s in motion.” You mumble making Jeongguk laugh loudly, “I was just thinking it, don’t couples openly share their thoughts to each other.” “Yeah but it’s more ike what do you want to eat? Today work went like this. Today you won’t believe what I saw.” Jeongguk nods snortingas he takes off as the light turns gree. “I got it, I got it. Let me see. Today I went to the flower garden with my new girlfriend. I say new but I’ve been dying to be with her for years. She doesn’t really know how precious she is to me, yet. But, I think she’ll see after a while. We saw this old lady and we got ice cream. Then we went back to her parents house and as they were out probably praying for us, I fucked her in the shower like the dirty girl she is-” You smack his thigh with a laugh making him yelp. “OW! Babe!” He yells befoe pushing his hair back. “I’m not done with my story, so I fucked her good, DON’T HIT ME, then my girlfriends mother gave me a lot of banchan to take home so I can eat meals at home with my girlfriend.” Jeongguk tilts his head before sticking his tongue to cheek, “My girlfriends dad was saying all sorts of weird things and giving me ginseng so I could get manly energy. Probably to give him grandchildren.” You raise your hand and he flinches with a loud laugh. “YOUR DAD SAID IT! Your dad literally handed me the ginseng we picked yesterday and told me to make tea before bed and drink it so he could have a grandchild.” You blush furiously lowering the window and sticking your head out feeling the cool wild flush against your warm face. “See? I’m not the only one who wants you to have my kids!” Jeongguk says shutting off the music, he puffs out his cheeks happily as he watches you stare at the road as you drive. “What else happened? What else? Ah! I asked my cute, sexy girlfriend to move in with me but she said she had to think about it but I know she’ll move in with me. After sleeping next to her I don’t think I’ll be able to be without her.” Jeongguk says as teases you. “Yah.” You mumble putting your hands to your cheeks as you pull yourself back into the car. Jeongguk chuckles to himself, as he grabs a hold of your hand once more. “I’ll stop. I’ll stop.” Jeongguk says getting a hold of himself.
Jeongguk groans putting the bags down in front of his door. “Put in the code, I’m tired.” He mumbles as you enter his code in. The door rings out as it unlocks itself. Jeongguk opens the door slightly before turning to you with a wide smile. “What?” You ask with a giggle. He bends down and kisses you wrapping his hands around your waist. He hoists you up and you wrap your legs around his waist with a squeal. He looks down kicking the bags into the entrance way before closing the door behind him. “Aigo.” He mumbles tired as you hook your arms around his neck. He kisses you flipping off his shoes as he walks into the apartment. The automatic lights going on as he walks into his living room. “What the fuck?!” You hear loudly, you jump down with wide eyes as you stare at Jimin sitting on the couch, his arms spread out as he looks at you both wide eyed. “Oh...Hyung.” Jeongguk says awkwardly. “What the fuck was that?!” Jimin yells shocked. 
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hannitizer · 4 years
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To Have a Home part 9
Summary: After Draco is found guilty of an attempted murder, he is  sentenced to the Lupin’s house with hopes he’ll finally understand what  it means to have a family. Only problem? Draco doesn’t want it.
A/N: Hey Y’all, here’s part nine! I hope you enjoy! (On a side note, Hamilton is the best thing that God has blessed us with and you can fight me on that.)
Here’s part 10!
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“Stop standing over me like that; I’m fine,” insisted Abigail, swatting her husband’s hands away from herself. “Look, you can barely see where I was hit.” 
“That’s not the point.” He sighed, clearly frustrated. “He hit you. He should never hit you.”
“But I’m fine right now. Why don’t we all just calm down? He’s up in his room defusing and you should too.” Abigail sat up now, much to Remus’s annoyance. 
“Why won’t you let me take care of you?” 
Abigail smiled. “That’s my job, remember?” She placed a kiss on his cheek. 
“But I’m your husband. Let me be mad at the boy who threw a punch at my wife.” 
“You can be mad, but don’t take it out on him. If he’s scared of you, we’re never going to get anywhere.” 
He sighed, releasing the tension in his shoulders. He knew she was right, but it was so hard to not be mad at Draco. He punched Abigail. His wife. He should have every right to do the same to the boy, but he knew Abigail would never allow that. He would never hear the end of it if he even glanced harshly in his direction. But that’s what he loved: her spunk. A person could try and land a killing curse on her, and she’d blame the wand. 
But if you got on her bad side…
“What do you think is taking Sirius so long up there? He was just going up there to…”
Abigail never got to finish her sentence. They heard Sirius yelling upstairs followed by a loud thud outside. Before she could react, Remus was already running up the stairs. 
Sirius beat him to it. 
“He jumped out the window!” He yelled, racing down the stairs, flinging the front door open. Remus ran after him, followed closely by Abigail. 
By the time they had turned the corner of the house, all three had their wands raised, ready for a fight, but that wasn’t what they were met with. 
Draco was sitting upright, his leg being clutched by both arms. He rocked back and forth, howling in pain. 
Immediately, Abigail was next to him, trying to get at his leg. Draco went to push her off of himself, but Remus was quicker than him, spelling his arms to his side in a body-binding jinx. 
“What’s wrong?” asked Abigail, casting her wand over him, trying to sense what was causing him pain. 
“...My ankle,” he managed to get out from clenched jaws, “I landed weird. I could hear something pop…” He let out a scream when Abigail placed her hand on his left ankle.
Abigail mumbled “lumos” under her breath, and her wand lit up. The sight of his leg left her almost speechless. Draco’s ankle was swollen twice its size, and was about five shades darker than his other leg. 
“Yeah, that’s broken alright.” said Remus from behind Abigail. 
“Can you carry him inside?” she asked him, stepping aside so Remus could scooch closer to him. Draco only struggled a little when Remus picked him up in his arms bridal style. Abigail was about to follow him when she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. 
“Abigail,” said Sirius, “can I talk to you for a moment?”
“What do you want? I need to go inside and look at Draco’s…”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. Abigail, I know you’re probably going to fight me on this, but if you heal his ankle completely, that kid’s going to do the same thing over and over again until he gets what he wants.”
“So what are you suggesting? That I don’t do anything about it? I can’t just ignore…”
“I’m not asking you to ignore his ankle.” Sirius pauses, looking for words. “Do you know how muggles heal broken bones? With a… turtle shell looking… like a…”
“Like a cast?” Abigail said, raising her eyebrow. “You want me to put Draco’s ankle in a cast?”
“Think about it. If you don’t, Draco will try again and again to leave. But if you don’t heal it right away, he’ll have time to think about what he’s done. He’ll have to depend on you for almost everything.”
Abigail shook her head. “Draco would hate us for that.”
“Listen Abigail, Draco’s going to hate you for a lot of things. If not this, then something else will come along to make him hate you. Trust me on this; you need to do what’s best for him.” He started to walk towards the house. 
“I’m not going to tell you what you can or can’t do,” he said, stopping before the corner of the house, “but I can tell you that this is the right thing to do.” 
Abigail didn’t follow him right away, but after a moment to herself, she walked into the front door. Remus had set Draco down on the couch, and he stood next to him, wand in his hands. Sirius stood a little farther off, arms crossed and looking rather seriously at Abigail. She took a deep breath in, and held her wand out. Every part of her screamed to just heal the wound, but she knew what Sirius said was true. 
“Remus, I need to talk to you. Can we go to your potions room?” Sirius said, more as a statement rather than a question. Remus looked from him to Abigail, but she nodded her head, urging him to go on. 
Once the two of them left, Abigail got to work. She sat down next to the couch where Draco lay, his body still in a bind. Abigail carefully spelled away his socks and rolled up his pant leg. In true fashion, the ankle was twice its normal size. She placed her hand on it, and felt Draco go stiff, a whimper escaping his mouth.
“Draco, I need you to talk to me. Does this hurt?” She left her hand where it was, and Draco mumbled a yes. 
“Okay, how about here?” She moved her hand slightly to the left, applying a little pressure. Draco screamed, thrashing about.
“Yes! Please, stop!” He cried out, tears reforming. Abigail dropped her hands, picking up her wand. 
She muttered Ferula under her breath, and bandages formed around his foot. A cooling sensation followed, and Draco felt a sense of relief. When he looked back down, Abigail was spelling his foot in the air, saying something about how the swelling would go down the higher his foot was. 
“I’ll check on this later, after the swelling’s gone down, to see where the damage is.”
Draco frowned. “Can’t you just heal my ankle?”
Abigail ignored his comment, standing up and spelling a blanket over Draco. “In the meantime, let’s find you a draught of peace so you can relax, okay?” 
Draco tried to move his arms to get the blanket off, but he found that his body was still stuck. He felt a panic rise in him. “Hey, wait a minute, I know that there are spells to regrow bones. Goyle had one used on him when he broke his arm playing quidditch. Aren’t you a healer? Can’t you do that too? Please Abigail, I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have gotten mad like that. Please, Abigail, don’t do this to me.” 
“Why don’t I mix in a little bit of dreamless sleep? You must be exhausted after everything that’s happened. You can take a short nap, and then we’ll look at your ankle when you wake up, okay?” She turned around quickly so Draco couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. She knew what she was doing was best, but she felt so bad having to be the one doing it. She could feel the anxiety spiking in Draco, but she knew she couldn’t fix the bone nor counter-spell his body-bind jinx for fear that he would only hurt himself again. 
Abigail wordless casted a calming spell over Draco as she went to her potions room. She wasn’t surprised to see that Remus and Sirius had made their way in there as well.
“Did you take my advice?” Sirius asked. Remus had his head cupped in his hand, pondering what Sirius had explained to him moments before. 
Abigail 's arms shook as she reached for the potions she needed. “Yes, but I don’t know how I feel about it. He’s so scared…”
“Abigail, he jumped out of a window to try and get away. He needs to see that he depends on you guys. That he can’t just jump out of a window and get healed because you feel bad.” said Sirius. “You’re one of the most compassionate people I know Abigail, but sometimes you have to let people go through pain so they can be better than they were.”
Abigail pushed the potion towards Remus and Sirius. “Here, one of you can take this to him. I don’t think I can make him drink this.” 
Both of the men hesitated for a moment, but Remus stepped forward. 
“Don’t worry Abigail, I’ll get him to take it.” He murmured, kissing her quickly on the forehead and walking out the door. He could hear Sirius suggesting that they could go spell the windows upstairs so Draco couldn’t escape again.
Remus could see Draco breathing heavily underneath the blanket that he was wrapped up in. As soon as he was in Draco’s sightline, his heart rate picked up again. 
“Draco, calm down, it’s just me.” He said, squatting down to his level. “I brought you something to help you relax, okay?” He said, showing Draco the cup. “I need you to drink this.” 
“No! I don’t want to!” He cried out. He felt helpless not being able to move his body to keep Remus away. 
“I don’t want to make you drink this; it’s not something I want to do, but if you don’t drink this now, I will make you.” He quickly pressed it to Draco’s lips, holding it there. 
He didn’t rush him into drinking the mixture, he simply held it there until Draco was ready to take a sip. It took him two minutes to steady his breath enough to take a sip of the drink, and another five to finish it. 
He already felt the tug of exhaustion fall over him. Remus let the cup fall away, standing up slightly. He combed his fingers through his hair, brushing it all to one side. This put Draco over the edge, and he fell into a dreamless sleep.  
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Burying Baby pt 1
Okay so I’ve got… Oof. I got a lot of updates. I hope y’all are ready for some spam.
Just… dear lord if I think about it too much I’m gonna cry again. 
Okay. Just start typing, Wei Ying. We’re gonna have to document everything because I don’t want to forget a moment.
So I think I last mentioned that we were going to bury Baby so I may as well start from where I left off huh? This will be another long update so I’ll split it up. Bear with me, kay?
Okay so let me gather my thoughts. Lan Zhan and I were waiting to go to Lan Xichen’s to bury Baby and I secretly painted that picture for him while he was dealing with whatever else needed to be done for the buns that day. Or something. I was kinda in the ZONE so I didn’t really pay attention to what he was doing beyond listening for him to come back in case I needed to hide the picture before it was done. 
I really debated on whether or not I wanted to give it to him. He was so torn up about this little baby bunny. I     was too, if I’m perfectly honest. This was.. This was new for me. Painting that picture was like facing my grief. Normally I just… look the other way. Pretend it didn’t happen. Laugh.
But with Lan Zhan there. I just… I couldn’t ignore this. Maybe that’s healthy? Facing your problems and properly grieving. I just… I don’t know what would happen if I faced everything….
 I’ve always kinda thought that if I faced anything I would have to face everything and I’d go insane. Because.. Well… There’s a lot to unpack there and I’m not ready for that. I know it’s there. I can feel it. 
I think I’ve been conditioned to forget things. Well I don’t know that it’s actually even forgetting really. It’s like there’s a like… block or wall or something that keeps me from some things. I can feel them there but it’s like some memories are behind a paywall or something. It’s just what I had to do. Keeps me sane. Keeps me going. Keeps me smiling.  I think I know it’s bad for me but by the time I had enough presence of mind to really do anything about it I think it was too late. 
I don’t really remember things well from before I was 10. That’s when the Jiangs took me in. For the next 8 years anyway. I think it was a political move or something. Look at this kind family taking in this poor orphan boy. So once I was old enough I was “encouraged to move out and seek my own fortunes’. By that I mean I was kicked on my ass by my foster mother while they told the world I moved out of my own will. 
But.. where was I.. Oh yeah. Just I figured out that maybe I don’t have to tear down the whole wall at once. Maybe I don’t have to drown?? Maybe I can just open a small door. If I can find a key. And I can take out a little piece at a time. That…. Maybe I can do that? I’m sorry I’m not making sense. Just after this weekend with Lan Zhan… 
Okay I’ll get to that when I get to that. Ugh. 
I should just scrap this whole thing and start over. Oh well. 
Fuck
Okay
OKAYYY
So we went to Lan Xichen’s with Baby. That’s what I’m talking about. 
Initially I think Lan Zhan was trying to get me not to come? Or maybe he was just saying I didn’t have to. Like giving me an out. But I couldn’t leave him alone. His eyes looked just so heart broken. And so I insisted. Maybe I was out of place? Probably. But in the end I think he was glad I came along. I think Lan Zhan must have been alone a lot. I don’t want him to be alone if I can help it. (Have I said that before? I think so. Too bad. I’m saying it again.
We were quiet on the ride over. I was too lost in my own brooding to speak really, but I put a hand on Lan Zhan’s to assure him I was there if he needed to talk or anything. 
I thought more about my parents. Well wondered about them anyway. I… I don’t even know what their names were. Though I suppose dad’s name must have been “Wei’ or else where did my name come from? Though… I suppose I might have been adopted into a family of “Wei”s. I don’t remember. I know I was bounced around a lot. And I know some of those homes weren’t… they shouldn’t have had their own children let alone the poor kids stuck in the system. I know that much at least.  Ah well.. In any case I’ve accepted that I’ll probably never know anything about my family. If I had one. I don’t know if they died or if they just didn’t want me. I don’t know how I got into the system. I just know I ended up with the Jiangs eventually and now I’m here. 
Maybe… if I’m good can I have a new family? One that will stay? That wants me?
That’s probably too much to wish for. I should just be happy with what I have now. 
UGH BRAIN! We’re here to tell a story! I know I said I’d open the doors but not NOW I’m busy!
Anyway. We ot to Lan Xichen’s place. It’s really big and the yard is huge! He was waiting for us on the porch and for a moment I forgot he was the actual devil. (Okay he’s not. He’s super nice but still). 
We got in and just… his house is so CLEAN. Is it a Lan thing? Or just them? Like I felt like a slob just being on the front porch. But Lan Xichen said I didn’t have to take off my shoes??? That he’d clean up any dirt???
Like what am I supposed to do with that??? Is it more rude to keep my shoes on or off?????????
So I just did my best to be as clean as possible. I don’t know. It’s so stupid to stress out about but.. Ugh.
Well Lan Zhan went ahead but Lan Xichen pulled me aside a bit to talk to me. 
He thanked me for being there with Lan Zhan. Like I would have wanted to be anywhere else? We didn’t talk long though because I was here for Lan Zhan. It seems Lan Zhan had gone off to get things to dig with. He must come here a lot? Because he just knew where all the things he needed were. Well that makes sense. They’re brothers after all. And Lan Xichen doesn’t live that far away.  I like to think that the two of them visit each other a lot. They seem close like that. 
Makes me miss Jiang Cheng and Shijie. 
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