#and three days ago before she lost the ability to speak the last words she managed were ''i love you'' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gisellaswrld · 4 months

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i’m at a loss of words even looking at you; no pain could ever reach how it felt when you twisted the knife.

jh86 | traveling to michigan due to the loss of your father sucked. especially when a familiar face longed to speak to you.

The passing of your father was sudden, unexpected really. The last time you seen him-- a few months ago-- he was perfectly fine. A week ago, your mom called you stating he had fallen really ill. A few days after, she announced his passing to the family.

You made the unfortunate flight to Michigan, having to take your second semester finals earlier to be able to make it to Michigan. Luckily, all your professors were willing to allow you to take them early.

Being in Michigan brought a dark gloom over your head. Of course, it was mostly due to your father's passing, but the last time you were in Michigan, it didn't end well.

Last summer, you were in an on-and-off situationship with your long-term best friend Jack Hughes. At first, it was great. You had the ability to brag that you were the one Jack was fucking at night, you were the girl that Jack had his arm around at the party of the night.

Until you fell for him, something that was easy to do. Jack had charm, his game with women was off the charts. You knew he had a way with getting women to fall easily for him. Before you agreed to the friends with benefits deal, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t fall in love — but you did.

Instead of effectively communicating your feelings to Jack and dealing with the rejection, you ghosted him when you went back to school. You expected him to reach out to you, but instead you got nothing from him. In the end, you thought that hurt worse than rejection ever could.

You stood in front of the mirror that hung on the door to your childhood bedroom. Smoothing out the black dress, you sucked in a deep breath. You were sure Ellen and Jim would be at the visitation. You just were unsure if they forced their three sons to join along.

A soft knock pulled you from your thoughts. You opened the door to see your mother, her eyes clearly swollen from her late night sobbing.

“Are you ready, honey?” Her hoarse voice spoke. You gave her a sincere smile. You knew your mother was in a lot of pain. After all, she lost her husband — the love of her life. You were upset about your father’s passing, but your mother was just completely empty of any emotion besides grief.

“Yeah, I just need to grab my purse. I’ll be right down.” You replied, voice quiet. Your mother nodded, shutting the door to your room. Seeing your mother in this deep of pain hurt you beyond words could explain.

You reached for your purse that was slung on the desk chair, accidentally knocking a few things over. “Shit-“ You grumbled, trying to gather them. You noticed a small note that was hidden behind the old clutter on your desk.

Good Luck in Maine, Stevie. I’ll miss you while you’re gone! - Jack

The familiar — yet unfamiliar — nickname made your stomach turn. It came from your undying love for Stevie Nicks in middle school. When you and Jack would walk home after school, the sound of Fleetwood Mac was always playing from your speaker. Jack turned that into a nickname for you.

You had been wondering why listening to Fleetwood Mac had been making you upset recently, the note just clicked a few buttons in your brain to remind you.

You crumbled the post-it note into your hand, tossing it somewhere in your room. With a huff, you grabbed your purse and left the room. Your family had been waiting downstairs. Evelyn, your younger sister, had a blank expression on her face due to the grief. Your older brother looked like he hadn’t been sleeping well.

You were the epitome of a mourning family.

Your mom drove everyone to the funeral home, it was an hour before the visitation started. Your mother wanted to ensure the visitation room was prepped like how she wanted it.

The visitation room made your heart twist and ache. There were photos of your dad scattered everywhere. Family photos, old prom pictures, even pictures of him attached to a telephone pole from his first job were posted.

“Wow,” Your brother commented, his eyes turning glassy quickly. “This is… this is heavy.” He continued, swallowing harshly.

Your eyes quickly connected to a photo. It was of your father and Jim Hughes. They were the best of friends in high school. The photo was of them holding you and Jack when you were babies. You shook your head, rolling the tears out of your eyes.

Soon enough, the visitors started to roll in. They ranged from family to friends and even some of your own peers showed up. You and your brother stayed off to the side, watching as family consoled your mother.

“Surprised Aunt Nancy even showed her face. Last time I check, she was strung out on meth in Illinois.” Your brother scoffed, staring directly at your father’s sister.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted her here.” You replied, agreeing with him.

Your attention was turned to the family walking in, the Hughes family. All five of them were present, even Jack. Your stomach turned, feeling queasy at the thought of being in his presence.

Jim spotted you and your brother, considering you were off to the side of the crowd. He led his family over.

“I see your mom is caught up with your father’s family?” Jim commented, a sad expression on his face. He lost his high school best friend, the guy he partied with through college, and the guy he purposefully lived next to in Michigan — just so they wouldn’t be apart.

“Nancy is here,” Your brother answered, watching as Jim rolled his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, honey. I’m sure this is hard,” Ellen frowned pulling you into a hug. You haven’t cried yet today, but this interaction was pushing you close to your limits.

“It is, but what can you do,” You answered, a small frown forming on your face. Your eyes trailed over to Jack, who was piercingly staring at you. You pulled out of Ellen’s grasp, watching as her and Jim got swept away by your mother.

Quinn was the first to speak up. “So, what happened? Jimmy said it was unexpected.”

You looked over at your brother, knowing you’d be the one to explain the story. “He got admitted to the hospital after he went for a high fever. Turns out he had many malignant tumors in his lungs and bronchus. He passed not too long after.” You sadly answered, your voice nothing short of monotonous.

“Fuck — that’s awful.” Luke sighed, scratching at his head. You and your brother shrugged simultaneously. “It happens.” Your brother responded.

Jack stood quietly behind Quinn, his attention fully devoted to you. Your stomach churned, causing you to become light headed. “I’ll be back,” You whispered to your brother, quickly walking out of the visitation room.

You found the women’s bathroom, quickly slamming open the door. You didn’t have time to lock the door behind you. Your body hunched over the toilet, the contents of your stomach spilling out of your mouth. Your body was shaking due to the exertion. You had a few tears spilling from your eyes, ones that you quickly wiped away.

You flushed the toilet, falling against the bathroom wall. “Of course—“ You commented, your voice quiet.

Slowly, your stood to your feet, standing in front of the mirror that was above the sink. You let out a shuddered breath. You ran the water, gargling some water in your mouth. You spit it out into the sink, feeling some relief.

While leaving the bathroom, you had your head in your purse searching for gum. You felt your body come to a halt as someone grabbed your arm. You found the gum, sliding a piece into your mouth, then looked up to see Jack.

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, his hand gripping onto your arm. You looked down, pulling your arm from his grasp. “I’m good.” You confirmed, nodding at him.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” He asked, his eyes forming into a glare. You raised your eyebrows, scoffing. “Are you really asking me why I didn’t reach out at my dad’s visitation?” You quickly fired back, watching as his expression changed.

“I just wanted to know, Stevie. That’s all.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stated, turning on your heels to walk away from him. You sucked in a deep breath once back into the visitation room, joining your brother once more.

This is going to be a long week.

You peered out at the sinking sun, watching as night fell onto the town in Michigan. The colder atmosphere chilled the air, unfortunately you didn’t bring a jacket.

The large pier was empty this time of year. There were no tourists to occupy the town, just those who lived here year round. The sound of the water moving and occasional car driving past kept your mind at peace.

This is where you decided you hated Michigan.

A car door could’ve been heard if you weren’t trapped in your mind. The car door could’ve signaled to you that someone would be joining you within moments. It could’ve been a serial killer, or some elderly woman who wants to knit.

Instead, it was Jack.

He sat down next to you on the bench, quietly turning his head to you. “Your brother told me you were here,” Jack spoke, his eyes fixated on you. “I didn’t ask,” You simply replied, voice quiet.

“Do you hate me, or something? I’m lost at how suddenly you just disappeared, and why you did.” Jack blurted, turning his body slightly towards. you.

You shrugged, a small frown forming on your lips.

“Do you regret it? Or did we do something that we shouldn’t have?”

You shook your head, then shrugged once more. You didn’t want to speak to him, let alone be near him.

“Stevie, we were best friends before whatever happened this summer. Your dad just died, and you are like a closed off shell of what you used to be. Why won’t you just talk to me?” Jack pleaded, his eyes starting to water.

As badly as you wanted to explain your feelings, explain how you didn’t want to be one of those girls that he picks up whenever he wants just to throw them away, explain how you didn’t feel like you even compared to his previous girlfriends, or even explain how you fell in love with him, you chose not to.

Simply out of the fact you didn’t want to be one of those girls crying over the fact that Jack Hughes never loved them.

“I don’t want to talk Jack, at all. I just simply want to be alone,” You abruptly stood from the bench, pulling your sleeves over your hands. “Stop trying to get me to talk to you,”

You quickly walked back to your car, then slowed down once you realized he wasn’t following behind you. Once in the safety of your car, you broke down. Sobs racking your body during the whole drive back to your childhood home.

The bar was practically empty at this point of the night. It was two in the morning and you were five drinks deep. It doesn’t seem like a lot, but due to your small tolerance of alcohol, it felt like a lot.

Your mind was running, thoughts swirling quickly through your brain. Frankly, you didn’t know why you haven’t just laid your feelings out on a silver platter to Jack.

You thought back to what he told you on the pier, and he was right. Your friendship had been deeply rooted into your life. It was wrong for you to shut him out like you’ve been. It was out of your own stubbornness, and now you were cursing yourself for it.

You sighed, fishing your phone out of your purse. You signaled for the bartender, asking for her to close you out.

“Hello?” Your brother’s tired voice grumbled through the phone. “Hey, I’m at Joe’s, can you come get me?” You slurred, your head resting against your hand.

“It’s literally two AM, are you serious?” Your brother continued to grumble, his voice becoming more annoyed. “Please?” You pleaded.

After a few moments, hearing him tap at his phone and the ruffling of his sheets. “Jack’s gonna be there in ten to come get you.” Your brother informed. “Stop being rude to him, by the way. He just wants to help.”

You heard the chime of the hang up sound, groaning to yourself. The bartender handed you the debit card that belonged to you, giving you a sincere smile.

After a little while, the door bell chimed, signaling that someone had entered.

“Stevie come on,” Jack muttered, standing behind you. You felt the tension, causing your less than sober state to fill with nerves. You slid off the bar stool, sulking as Jack led you to his car.

Once safety inside, Jack started the drive back.

“Why?” Jack asked, his focus on the road. “Why are you doing this to yourself again?”

“I don’t know, Jack,” You shrugged. Tears started to run down your face, regret filling your body due to your actions.

“You’ve shut me out once before, and you know how that makes me feel. I don’t know why you are doing it again.” Jack continued, his hands gripping onto the wheel tightly.

“I’m sorry, Jack” Your voice shuddered as you spoke, your eyes staring down at your hands.

“And I don’t know if you’ve just been acting like this because you are going through a lot right now, but I just wish you’d talk to me. And drinking — really Stevie — drinking? This is how you are going to work through your pain?”

“I-“ You stuttered, shrugging as you tried to finds words to speak.

“You don’t have to answer now, you’ve been drinking.” Jack stated, pulling into your driveway. You sat in the car, not sure of what to do or say.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” You asked, finally glancing over at him. Jack briefly glanced at you, letting out a sigh. “Yeah, just text me.” Jack replied, nodding. “Bye,” You quietly excused yourself, getting out of his car.

The rest of the night, you laid in bed, thinking of things to tell Jack tomorrow.

Jack sat across from you, nursing a hot black coffee. Your head ached with a never ending headache due to your hangover. You sipped on a iced chai latte, silent.

"Tell me what's going on," Jack requested, breaking the heavy silence with a sentence that made your body flood with anxiety. You wished you never asked him to talk - but you decided that your since your trip was coming to an end soon - it was now or never. Never meaning you would lose your best friend for good.

You attempted to gather words in your brain, opening your mouth to speak but nothing would flow into coherent sentences.

"I really - do you regret this summer? Do you thing it changed anything?" You asked, your mouth running dry with your words.

Jack knit his brows together in confusion, quickly shaking his head. “No, I don’t regret it. Do you?” Jack leaned forward slightly, his voice quiet. “I don’t regret it, but something changed.” You spoke, eyes tearing away from his.

“What changed, Y/N?” Jack’s face flooded with worry. “Because if it’s something I can fix, I want to. I just want my best friend back, I just want you back in my life.”

“That’s the thing, Jack.”

“What? What’s the thing?” Jack’s voice was rushed, his eyes searching your face for any answers. He used to be able to read your expressions like an open book, but now it was like trying to read a locked diary.

“I can’t be your best friend anymore-“ You were quickly cut off.

“What the fuck? Why? Why can’t you be my friend anymore? Because we fucked? I mean, I can see how it would change things but I feel like it-“ You quickly cut him off in return.

“No, Jack. It’s because I fell in love with you.” You harshly stated, eyes quickly locking onto him. You could visibly see a wave of emotion rush over him.

Jack sat in silence, his brain swirling with many thoughts and questions. He was unsure of which one to ask first, to learn about. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You scrunched your face, clasping your hands in your lap. “I’ve known you for how long, Jack? You’ve told me about every girl you’ve brought home, immediately knowing whether or not they’d be a quick hook-up or if it would be more. You’ve told me how many times you’ve ghosted girls over something small they did that threw you off.” You paused, sucking in a deep breath. “I didn’t want to be one of those girls.”

“You never were, Y/N. We have too much past to even make you remotely close to one of those girls.” Jack shook his head, disbelief flooding his brain. Did you really think that he would just drop you?

“Jack, be serious. If we didn’t have the past, if our families weren’t close friends, would I be one of those girls?” You asked, a stoic expression on your face.

Jack shook his head again. “Absolutely not. If you were one of those girls, Y/N, if I even remotely felt like treating you like those girls, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. I wouldn’t have kept being around you all summer if you were one of those girls. You just — it was natural — it felt easy to be around you like that,” Jack explained, confessing thoughts in his head he never thought he’d say out loud.

“Why?”

“You are different. Your achievements are far different from how many Instagram followers you have, you have actual goals in life. You never thought of me as some fucking — as #1 draft pick with a 8.8 Million dollar contract — I’ve always just been Jack to you. I’ve always been the kid your parents forced you to hang out with. I’ve never been some celebrity in your brain. You make me feel different.” Jack let out a deep breath after his small speech, his eyes focused on you.

“Jack, I-“

“I’m not finished. You are in school, pursuing fucking politics, Y/N. You spend your nights studying instead of throwing back as much Pink Whitney as you can. Instead of posting sponsorships on social media, you post about your friends, family, achievements. I have always thought you were the smartest girl I’ve known. I always surrounded myself with girls different from you to try to convince myself that it wasn’t right to have feelings for you. Because you don’t deserve to be with a guy who won’t have a career in thirty years, who doesn’t even know what he’s going to do with his life in thirty years.” Jack ran a hand through his tousled hair, moving to anxiously fiddle with the strings to his hoodie.

“I think your monologue was longer than my final paper this semester, no offense.” You spoke, trying to ease the heavy mood. “I — uh — wow. That is a lot to process? Give me a second to think.” You spoke, thinking maybe Jack would actually let you think for a moment.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you since sophomore year of high school. That’s the whole point of that speech or whatever.” Jack stated quickly, clarifying his words.

“So, now what?” You asked, shrugging. “You go back to New Jersey, I go back to Maine, now what?”

“We figure it out. Because, Y/N, seriously. I’ve gone the past five months not speaking to you, and I really can’t go any longer.” Jack frowned, scratching at the small patches of stubble that had been growing.

“We figure it out?” You questioned, waiting for him to confirm his words.

“Yeah, I mean, we’ve figured out ways for you to come to New Jersey for like the past three years. I’m sure it won’t be any less harder, now. You have one semester left at college, then it’s up in the air, yeah? I think we’d be able to figure it out.” Jack nodded, feeling less suffocated that he had previously felt. “Only if you want to though.”

You, on the other hand, were still battling with your internal insecurities. Your lip was tucked between your teeth, biting at the dead skin. “I need to get some air, for a second.” You stood from the chair, heading outside the small coffee shop to think in peace for a moment.

You knew it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. And, you knew Jack would treat you right. He already did so much for you, as a friend. Sending you sweet messages when you were upset, ordering you uber eats when you were up all night studying, the signs were all green.

Yet, the lingering thought of if you were good enough still pounded into your brain like a headache.

You heard the door chime, not realizing they maybe you have been sitting outside for far too long. Jack stood on the side walk, a sad expression plastered on his face.

“Just let me know-“

You stood to your feet, rushing over to him. You placed you hands on his cheeks, planting your lips onto his. Jack hesitated, but soon his hands found your hips, squeezing.

“We’ll figure it out.” You mumbled, watching as his eyes flickered brightly.

“We will figure it out,” Jack nodded, pulling your body against his chest.

You were sure that Jack would do his best to navigate through his life, especially if you were by his side. You knew that Jack would treat you as best as he could, always ensuring you were happy with how the relationship was going. You knew Jack just as well as you knew yourself.

Maybe being back in Michigan wasn’t as bad as you thought it was.

#nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #hockey #hockey imagines #nhl blurb #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jackhughes #jack hughes x reader

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 10 months

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Yet another average day in Family Video:

"Hey. Remember when you said that you'd totally fuck Jonathan."

"When...? Oh, yeah. What the fuck that was literally a month ago why are you mentioning that now?"

"Because that was the same conversation we decided to get the matching tramp stamps. And trying to hide those from my parents is a literal pain in the ass. Pun fully intended. I can't even sit straight and-"

"I'd say you can't do anything straight"

"Not like I can do anything str- fuck you"

Steve swaggers to the back and takes out the whiteboard they purchased together - on ROBIN'S SUGGESTION may he add.

"Can't believe you're losing in your own game. About bad jokes. And being gay. Which are basically your two only personality traits."

Robin's side is embarrassingly empty. He sees it as cosmic karma for her you-suck-game during their scoops ahoy era.

"Alright mister little bitch"

"And yet, this little bitch is beating you in your own game"

Robin shows him the finger. Steve bites the finger because he is a little shit and things like boundaries and personal space have already lost all meaning between the two of them.

In this moment the front doors open. The elderly man takes one look at the scene before him and leaves without a word.

"Where did the Jonathan thing come from?"

"Dunno. I was bored. Thought it'd be funny to see you go through a gay crisis."

"Not much of a crisis if I already admitted to it."

"You're no fun."

"Really? That was not what my dad said three months ago. According to him I am a fucking joke."

"Coming from Harrington Senior that's honestly a compliment"

"Please remind me of that the next time I radio you at 3 am. Who is on tape duty?"

"I did it last time."

"Alright" Steve nods towards the small pile of romcoms they have pointedly not been reshelving for the last half an hour. "Enjoy your alone time in the romance section."

"Do you think it would be an invasion of privacy if we checked who returned all that? It was either an epic girls night of an awful breakup." Her voice gets fainter as she moves to the back of the store.

"Nah. We're in the land of the free or whatever. Wait, let me do it"

"You're only saying that so you can procrastinate asshole"

"Does that mean you don't want to know who took them? Because I promise you, you really really do."

"Don't ask if you already know the answer dingus"

"Guess"

"Ummm....power bottom."

"What?"

"Like with Jonathan. Would you rather he call the shots or the other way around?"

She makes a series of incomprehensible movements that are probably supposed to represent intercourse between two men.

"This is the reason god made you a lesbian"

"And thank him for that. Amen."

"Why are you so obsessed with Jonathan anyway."

"You're deflecting"

"Yeah sure, I am deflecting. C'mon, Buckley. Resume or later?"

"Who was the one who took all the romcoms?"

"If I tell you, will you tell me what's really going on?"

"Depends on your answer."

"I thought you weren't interested in my sex life? Every time-"

In this moment the door opens again. Two girls come in, arm in arm. One is wearing a look that can only be described as disgust, the other is clearly trying to hold in laughter with moderate success.

Over the course of many painful months of customer service (plus surviving an interrogation by the actual Russian secret service) Steve and Robin have developed the ability to hold entire conversations without speaking a single word. It is a very neat talent to have when they want to make fun of someone right in front of them. It is less neat when he is the target.

Robin raises her brows. C'mon dingus, tell these random ass girls about your sex life since you're so proud of it.

Steve frowns in response. Yeah, sure Mrs. Never Even Had A First Kiss.

Robin narrows her eyes. I did have a first kiss. Even if it was absolutely horrible.

Steve puts on his most insufferable expression. You yourself said that it doesn't count. No need to be so jealous Buckley.

Robin rolls her eyes. Alright, I want to see you trying to find a-

"Do you have ET?", Robin doesn't say because, oh yeah, they've got actual customers.

Steve solemnly informs them that ET is current out of stock, but that it should be returned in two days. Robin somehow manages to force her last two movies upon them. They leave with a dazed look on their face that Steve can relate to. Sometimes Robin will start talking and the next thing you know you have a tramp stamp.

"Tommy Hagan"

Robin looks absolutely disgusted. "Tommy Hagan?! You would kiss Tommy Hagan? And then you have the audacity to make fun of my taste in women?!"

"First of all: me and Hagan? Been there done that." Robin looks as if her entire worldview was just flipped upside down. "Second: probably not, he uses a bit too much tongue for my liking. I mean that Tommy Hagan was the one who rented all the romcoms"

Robin takes a moment to process this information. Then she dramatically falls to the floor and squirms around in laughter like a bug on its back trying to get up again. Truly a drama kid through and through.

"And thirdly: for your information, I super could make out with Jonathan Byers. Unlike you, I've got game"

"You don't mean gay-me?"

Steve rolls his eyes and takes out the whiteboard again. He is still in the lead.

"And also, excuse you, I totally could make out with Nancy if I wanted to, okay?! I'm just not a homewrecker unlike some other people"

"Excuse me? I was the one who was cheated on?!"

"I'm insulting your taste, dingus"

"Rich coming from you, since we apparently share the same one"

For a moment she looks confused. Then she thinks back to what she said. Steve can pinpoint the exact moment she realizes it.

"Is this the reason you want me to be into Jonathan so bad? Because you're into Nancy?" Steve feels like a smug cat when her entire upper body grows red.

"Shut up she's just pretty okay?!"

"And badass. Don't forget badass."

"Oh my god I know. Ever since I saw her shooting I haven't been able to get her out of my mind."

"Right?! And as if that isn't enough, she has to go and be smart too! Like, c'mon, she has to have some faults. Some downsides. Nobody is that prefect!"

"Oh my god I know! And-"

They continue like that for a while. Time runs away from them and suddenly Hellfire Club is over and Steve's kids (minus Max, he notes with a heavy heart) are barging into the place as if they own it, for no reason other than to be absolute menaces.

"And like. Robin. She was so hot in that moment. I swear to-"

"Who are you talking about?". Steve is used to Dustin being a rude little shit and automatically answers without even thinking about it. "Nancy."

He realizes his mistake too late. He looks up. Mike's eyes are wide in horror. "I hate you so fucking much" he says before turning around and leaving.

Robin sighs. "I guess that is the downside."

-> the tramp stamp conversation

-> gatekeeping 101

-> breaking out of a heteronormative mindset

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vivalas-vega · 1 year

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new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part five

I wanted to get this one out quickly for y’all!! here is the much needed relief we all needed after that last chapter. as always, lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist!

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part five

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - one - two - three - four

word count: 4.3k

warnings: language, angst, basically another grey’s anatomy ep so... medical inaccuracies and drama !!!

Sitting in one of the imaging rooms in your own hospital, a room you’d previously spent countless hours in and would go on to spend countless more, brought you a small bit of peace. You were surrounded by familiar faces and doctors you trusted and respected, and that made a world of a difference in your confidence for Mary’s outcome. Despite how close you were to the case no one was excluding you from conversations or keeping you out of the loop on anything, you were given just as much of a voice as Dr. Lewis in dictating her care as you looked over several of her scans and brainstormed a game plan. If this was truly your case you would have kicked your own ass to the curb several hours ago but the patience and grace everyone was extending you didn’t go unnoticed.

“What if you try coming in through here?” you asked, and Dr. Lewis pondered your suggestion for a moment, trying to visualize before shaking his head.

“If I insert the probe here,” he said, illustrating the path with his fingers, “I’m going to disrupt something here,” he circled around Broca’s Area. “Do that and she’ll lose the ability to speak, she’s a teacher right?”

“Third grade, and she’s damn good at it,” you sighed.

“Then we aren’t taking any risks, I think our best course here is to go in this way,” he said, outlining a new pathway and you nodded.

“It’s still tricky but I think that’s going to be the best approach,” you agreed.

“Why did you end up leaving neuro? You’ve clearly got a knack for it,” he asked suddenly, looking you over curiously.

“I loved neuro, did Dr. Adams tell you he used to call us the Brain Buddies?” you asked and he shook his head laughing. “He’d go around the hospital saying it like we were some superhero duo… I used to think there was no high like neurosurgery, but then one day there was this massive train crash. Most people were too unstable to move so we went to them. When we got there most had already died and the ones who hadn’t were one slight breeze away from following suit. There was this girl, about my age, who was bleeding out faster than I could control. Nothing was working and I began to panic… trauma is quick and dirty, there’s no time to gameplan or even think, you just have to figure it out as you go and be resourceful, so I used dirt,” you chuckled though it really wasn’t funny. “I just scooped a handful and packed the wound and it worked… we had to load her up on so many antibiotics she got C. Diff and the poor thing needed a fecal transplant but she made a full recovery,” you said with a smile. “That was a high unlike anything else, and I just never looked back. Trauma is where all the fun is.”

“You sound exactly like one of my buddies who’s a doctor with the Army… you ever considered that path?”

“Briefly but… Jake, Mary’s son, is in the Navy. Every deployment crushes both of our parents and they worry, I couldn’t do that to them… I think they’d all lose their minds if they lost both of their kids to that life,” you said and he nodded.

“Well, let’s go give her some good news, let her know what the plan is.” Mary was surprisingly calm throughout the whole thing, she didn’t even blink when Dr. Lewis briefed her on all the risks (stroke, paralysis, loss of speech, death), all she had said was well, if I can’t speak there’s always sign language and death is better than a painful year of chemo. Really she didn’t care about any of it, she asked if you agreed with his approach and she’d said that was all she needed to know when you’d answered yes. She’d truly put all of her trust in you, she let go of the whole thing and just accepted that because you said it would be okay that it would… and that terrifies you beyond belief. You were a confident doctor, always had been, but right now with her looking at you with such pride and peace you felt sick, knowing that no matter how good a patient’s outcome looks going into surgery that can always change at the drop of a hat.

“That’s the attitude, Mary, keep that up… patients who go in with a positive outlook are much more likely to come out the other side,” Dr. Lewis said. You oversaw the interns in charge of her pre-op care and she had watched through amused eyes as you ordered them around and even called you a hardass… much like Jake had done when he’d visited you in Boston.

“It seems mean now but Dr. Stevens will tell you his skills have improved since I came around to knock some sense into him. If you put the fear of god in them they’re much more malleable,” you joked.

“It must be working because they are terrified to disappoint you,” Mary said and you didn’t miss how proud she sounded.

“Jupiter is very tough, tougher than any of the attendings but I’ve learned a lot from her,” Dr. Stevens confirmed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “And she makes a mean chocolate chip cookie, I heard that was your recipe.”

“Stop kissing my ass and bring me her updated labs,” you said and he nodded quickly as we went to leave the room, “and just because I’m off duty that doesn’t mean I’m not doctor to you!” you called after him and Mary just laughed.

“I like seeing this side of you,” she said, looking up at you appreciatively and you gave her a warm smile. “If I’m being honest I thought wanting to be a surgeon at twelve years old was just a crazy phase… thought you maybe saw a cool doctor in a movie or something but looking at you now… I couldn’t imagine you doing anything else,” she said.

“I wouldn’t be here without you,” you said, giving her hand a squeeze and you noticed Jake enter the room without saying a word.

“You’ll be in the surgery?” she asked and you nodded.

“I’m not allowed to be involved in the actual operation… it’s too much of a conflict of interest, but Dr. Lewis has graciously agreed to let me be in the room with you.”

“That makes me feel better… knowing you’ll be there,” she said and you gave her another smile before you excused yourself to step into the hallway when Dr. Stevens flagged you down and you looked over her labs in relief.

“What do these tell you?” you asked, handing the paper back to him and he looked at you curiously for a moment, “I taught you better than this, Dr. Stevens, I know you can read labs,” you said.

“I just… I didn’t expect you to be teaching right now,” he said and you watched as he looked over the paper and processed the information. “These all look good, she’s in optimal shape to be heading into surgery,” he said and you nodded.

“Exactly, let Dr. Lewis know and page me when you’re taking her up.”

“Didn’t expect you to be teaching right now either,” you heard Jake say and you turned around to face him with a sigh.

“Your mom’s case is an incredible teaching example and Dr. Stevens shows promise within neuro. Your mom understands that, she’s thrilled he’s getting to learn from her and she wants me to take the opportunity to teach when I can, it’s my job.” you said.

“But you’re not working right now,” he said and you gave a soft nod.

“You’re right, I’m not… I’m just doing everything I can to make sure she receives the best standard of care and teaching when I have the opportunity to ensures that, not just for her but for everyone else’s mom that comes in after her.” He just nodded and you could tell that he was annoyed with you. “Jake, just talk to me.”

“We’ve already gone through the procedure, I don’t need to talk about it anymore,” he replied and you furrowed your brows.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I need you, J. I need you and you’re not here,” he said in a hushed whisper, trying to avoid the nosy ears of your interns at the desk just a few feet away.

“I’m right here,” you said but he just shook his head.

“You’re not. You’re making calls and teaching interns, or holed away in an imaging room and you’re talking to me like I’m just some patient’s family member. There’s enough doctors around here, I just needed you… I needed you to be my Jupiter through this and you were just another doctor,” he said with a disappointed look before stepping back into his mother’s room and any tension that had eased after setting the plan in place with Dr. Lewis was back in full force. Your heart ached and you wanted to go after him but you knew this wasn’t the moment… he was angry and scared and he didn’t understand where you were coming from and that was all okay. There was no way to rationalize with his mother heading into brain surgery in less than an hour and you chose to believe that when the dust settled and she came out the other side things would level out but as selfish as it was… you needed a moment. A moment to clear your head and think so you wandered down to the emergency department, you let your eyes rake over the space as you took stock of how things were holding up in your absence and while you stood in front of the patient board you jumped when the Head of Trauma, Dr. Fowles approached you.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, looking at you apologeticly as you placed a hand over your heart.

“Needed a breather,” you said and he laughed.

“So you came to the pit for a little relaxation?” You nodded with a sheepish smile. “Want something to take your mind off it?”

“Please, I’ll take anything,” you said and he led you over to Bay Three and opened the curtain to reveal a beautiful laceration just begging for you to suture it. You introduced yourself as you gloved up and made small talk with her as you worked, taking your time to ensure she had as little scarring as possible.

“One minute you’re making lunch for your boyfriend, who is incredibly ungrateful by the way, and the next you’re in the ER because you zoned out wondering what your old college boyfriend was up to and sliced right through the avocado and into your hand,” she sighed and you chuckled.

“Never go down the college boyfriend rabbit hole, it’s never worth it,” you said. You finally felt like yourself, sure you’d been acting like a doctor nonstop for the past three days but it was all so deeply personal. This was cut and dry, you’d patch her up and send her on her way and likely never see her again. This was medicine without baggage and it felt so good. You hoped Jake was still somewhere on the other side of the hospital, if he saw you right now with that sparkle back in your eye hunched over this patient's open palm it would only make matters worse.

“You got lucky, I’m looking at the tendon here but you didn’t cut through… could be a sign… or a wake up call,” you suggested and she nodded.

“A sign to dump his sorry ass and find someone who will actually drive me to the ER instead of making me get blood all over my brand new car? Yeah, I’m one step ahead of you,” she said and you let out a soft laugh.

“Well, you’re all good. Take the antibiotics, make sure you’re eating things with lots of good bacteria and fully finish the course even if it doesn’t feel like it’s doing anything… and please, don’t let him reel you back in the way they’re always so good at,” you said with a smile as you pulled your gloves off and went to the desk to update her chart.

“You’re a junkie,” Dr. Fowles said and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Takes one to know one,” you said, handing him the chart as your pager beeped and he wished you luck as you ran towards the elevator. You texted Jake to let him know you’d come out with an update once you had one and were on your way to meet them in the OR. Standing in the scrub room and overlooking them prepping Mary through the window you took a deep breath, you knew things would move quickly the second you got her here but it truly felt like one minute you were at the Hard Deck laughing with your friends and the next you’re here… about to step into surgery on one of the most important people in your life.

“I know you can’t tell through my mask, but I’m smiling right now,” you said as you approached her.

“I know, honey,” she replied and the anesthesiologist looked at you to let you know they were ready when you were. “Promise me something,” she said and you just shook your head.

“I’m not making you any promises, Mary, you’re not on your deathbed.”

“Promise me that when I’m out of the woods you are going to put me and John and your parents out of our misery and finally kiss that son of mine,” she said and you let out a shocked laugh.

“You are about to go under for brain surgery and that’s what you’re worried about right now?” you teased.

“You two drive me nuts! Just give me a wedding already.” she said and you shook your head.

“I’ll see what I can do… I’ll see you after, okay?” you said, nodding to the anesthesiologist. “Countdown from ten for me.”

“Ten… nine… give me a wedding… eight… seven-” she slurred as she fell under and you just chuckled to yourself as Dr. Lewis entered the room.

“Alright, Jupiter… I have been patient with you all day as you made me run through my surgical plan a dozen times and all but demanded to be in here, and I was happy to oblige because I like you, however there will not be a peep out of you from here on out, are we understood?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

“Good, because I will throw you out so please don’t make me have to.” You watched as he began, your eyes intently flitting between his hands and the monitor that was displaying an aerial view of the surgical field and you felt nausea begin to creep in. You listened as Dr. Fowles narrated everything he was doing to Dr. Stevens, who you wanted to throw a bedpan at when they got eyes on the tumor… really you couldn’t be mad, his reaction was warranted and it was cool, but it would be a hell of a lot cooler if that tumor wasn’t in Jake’s mom’s head. You listened as Dr. Fowles changed his surgical approach, this was always a possibility. The scans give you a lot of information but any plans are just loose ideas until you actually get in there and see what’s going on, and you bit your tongue as you let him make his best judgment call on how to proceed. You were now two hours into the surgery but it felt like no time had passed at all.

“Alright, I think we’re ready to pull this sucker out, Dr. Stevens would you like to man the cautery?” Dr. Fowles asked and your heart stuttered in your chest.

“Absolutely not,” you said before your mind could catch up and tell you to keep your mouth shut.

“Are we forgetting you’re not to speak in this OR?”

“With all due respect sir, as promising as Dr. Stevens is, one wrong move with that cautery and all of this will have been for nothing.” you said and you watched as his hands stilled on the monitor.

“It seems Jupiter doesn’t want you to learn today,” Dr. Fowles said and Dr. Stevens looked between the two of you, clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’ll just observe. She’s right, I’ve never cauterized before and I still have a lot I want to learn from her… I’d rather not jeopardize that by sending her best friend's mom to the vegetable patch.” he said and you nodded in satisfaction. You would personally see to it that Dr. Stevens scrubbed in with you on every one of your surgeries for the foreseeable future to make up for the learning opportunity you’d just robbed him of. Things seemed to be progressing smoothly until the monitors started beeping frantically and you watched as her BP suddenly tanked and you felt your stomach drop as Dr. Fowles started barking out orders that weren’t quite registering in your ears.

“No… no, no no,” you muttered, a tidal wave of panic crashing over you as you ran out into the hallway and braced yourself on a wall, trying desperately to get your breathing under control. You quickly hunched over a trash can and let the nausea take over, vomiting onto the pile of discarded gloves and trauma gowns as the door opened to reveal a scrub nurse.

“Dr. Fowles is asking you to come back in,” she said and you shook your head, fighting the tears that were threatening to fall. “Come on, just come see,” she said and you placed your mask back over your face as you tentatively followed.

“You missed the good part, Jupiter… the tumor is out.”

“Her vitals?” you asked, taking a small step closer as you looked at the monitors but you didn’t trust your eyes.

“She’s a fighter,” he answered and you sighed in relief. “I’m about to pack with gelfoam but it appears we are out of the woods. Would you like to go update them as I close?” he asked but you were already halfway out the door, ripping off your mask and sprinting down the hallways until you burst into the waiting area. Jake and John jumped up, looking at you expectantly and as they took in your tear streaked face and rapid breathing you watched as their faces fell.

“No! No no no,” you said, taking in a sharp breath. “It’s good, it all went good, they’re closing now, she’ll be in recovery within the half hour,” you said and they both exhaled in relief.

“Oh thank god,” John whispered, pulling you in for a bone crushing hug. “Thank you,” he pulled away to place a kiss on your forehead. “There will never be enough thank you’s for this,” he said as he wiped his own tears. You looked over to Jake who had sunk into one of the chairs with his head hung in his hands and you crouched on the floor in front of him and gently placed a hand on his knee.

“Jake? She’s going to be okay,” you said and he lifted his head to look at you with glassy eyes, “it went as well as we could have hoped. We won’t be certain until she wakes up but I have a very good feeling.”

“J…” he started, but was cut off by his own tears and you pushed him back in his seat to perch on his legs and pull him into your chest.

“I know…” you soothed, rubbing a hand up and down his back. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you just sat there as you held him, whispering reassurances into his ear. You hooked a finger on his chin, softly tilting his head to look up at you before resting your palms on his cheeks. “I’m going to call my parents, let them know… and Rooster too, everyone’s been really worried,” you said and he nodded. You placed a kiss on his forehead as you slid off his lap and you stepped away and pulled out your phone. Your mother had cried, sobbed really, and your dad told you to pass along their well wishes for recovery when he took over the call, you could hear the relief in his voice as he told you how proud he was of you.

“Please tell me she’s okay,” Rooster said as he answered and you let out a breathy laugh.

“She’s good… we’re in the wait and see portion, but I think we’re in the clear. Can you talk with Mav? She’ll be out of here in a few days but this whole thing has him pretty rattled. I know I don’t have the authority but I’m not clearing him for work just yet,” you said and Rooster chuckled.

“Doctor’s orders,” he said and you let out a soft laugh as well. “Mav said to take all the time he needs, there’s no rush to get back.” You thanked him as you hung up, telling him to pass it along to the rest of the Dagger’s as well for how supportive they’ve been throughout. Your pager went off as you approached the two of them and you gave them a reassuring look.

“She’s in post op now, I’m confident everything is fine but I’m going to head up and just be sure, okay?” you said and they nodded as you made your way to the elevator and you all but ran into the room, eyes immediately scanning the brain activity monitor.

“How’s it looking?” you asked a bit frantically.

“Looking good,” Dr. Fowles answered as you grabbed her chart from him to look it over. “You know as well as I do we won’t know for sure until she wakes up but I don’t think we should expect any deficits.” You dropped the chart into its place at the end of her bed and threw your arms around him.

“I know this is unprofessional but just go with it,” you said as you started crying again and he chuckled as he reciprocated and rubbed along your back. “I owe you big time, thank you for everything… I am available for any and every pro-bono surgery you need me for from here on out,” you said.

“I think I’ll hold onto my favor for a little while,” he teased as you pulled away and you laughed as you wiped your cheeks and asked an orderly to grab Jake and John.

“Well, whatever it is it better be big, I owe you a lifetime's worth of thank you’s.” He slipped out of the room and let you know he would check back later and you felt the dark cloud that had been hovering over you the past few days begin to dissipate and with it brought the crushing weight of every feeling you’d been fighting off. You let out a broken sob and immediately turned to leave the room, not noticing Jake walking down the hallway as you hurried the opposite direction and shut yourself into an on-call room. He poked his head into his mom’s room, making sure everything was okay before chasing after you and he found you sitting on the floor with your back against a nightstand and your head between your knees as you tried to regulate your breathing. He was silent as he sat beside you and you lifted your head slightly.

“You don’t need to be here,” you choked out, “I know you’re mad at me, and it’s… I’m okay, really, go sit with your mom.” He didn’t respond, instead he reached around you to grip underneath your arms and pulled you to sit between his legs where he wrapped himself around you and it was the final straw to push you over the edge. You leaned back against him as he held you tight and fell apart in his arms… you’d tried to say something but nothing would come out around your cries, and Jake just let you get it all out.

“I’m not mad at you,” he finally said when your breathing started to even out. “I was but… I was wrong. I didn’t-” he stopped himself for a moment, taking a deep breath as he fought his own tears. “Not once did I stop and consider what this was like for you, I was selfish. You.. I mean, god Jupiter,” he let out a humorless laugh. “You swept in and had this handled in less than three days. I was so wrapped up in what you weren’t doing that I didn’t think about what you were doing, and that was everything… you held it together for all of us, you made sure she would be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” you sniffled.

“Yes, I do. I thought you weren’t there for me, but you were. You always are, even if I don’t see it at first. I’m so sorry that I made this harder on you,” he said, giving you another squeeze and you melted against him. “I was mad at you for who you are, and that’s… I say how proud I am of the doctor you’ve become and in the moment that you were doing everything you could to help my mom I was an absolute asshole.”

“You weren’t an asshole… I treated you like a patient’s family, and you reacted the way family does.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “Do you want to go check on your mom?” you asked and he shook his head.

“No. I want to just sit here with you for a little while if that’s okay,” he replied and you nodded, letting your head fall against his arm.

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

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call-me-maggie13 · 1 year

Text

It’s the first time Shannon’s been in the room since it was declared Beatrice’s almost two weeks ago. It’s dreary and feels emptier than it did before Beatrice moved in. Like the little girl is somehow a black hole, sucking all the life from the room around her until it’s barren and there’s nothing left of it.

Shannon throws a blueberry at Beatrice’s head, expecting at least a half smile in response. Only she gets wide eyes, a frown, and a head shake. The dissent makes her chest ache but she throws another blueberry regardless.

"Open your mouth." Beatrice shakes her head and Shannon bounces a blueberry off her nose. "Bea, just open your mouth and catch it. You’re wasting perfectly good blueberries."

It’s meant as a joke. She’s not serious. Of course she’s not serious, Shannon hates blueberries, why would she care if Beatrice doesn’t want to eat them? She wouldn’t. She doesn’t. But her statement makes Beatrice cry regardless.

"I’m sorry." What else is she to say? She doesn’t know what to do, so she pats Beatrice on the shoulder and apologizes until she stops crying.

And God, Beatrice can cry. Shannon’s aged at least ten years by the time Beatrice stops crying. Maybe she doesn’t like blueberries either.

Shannon scoops them from the carpet and dumps them on the napkin and crumples it in her fist, smiling when the napkin stains purple around her hand. When she looks up, Beatrice’s eyes are wide and her mouth is agape, watching her in horror. Shannon has never felt so judged in her entire life than she has in the last few hours with Beatrice.

"What? Did you want to eat them? Because I’m pretty sure Jasper has peed somewhere in this room at least once." The name catches Beatrice’s attention, burning disgust dropping away to a curious warmth. "Have you met Jasper?"

Shannon had only managed to convince her parents to let her get the puppy a few days before it was decided Beatrice would be moving in. One of her classmate’s dogs had puppies and they were giving them away, and Shannon had been begging for a puppy since she could talk.

Beatrice shakes her head and Shannon asks if she would like to meet him, the reply is an uneasy nod.

"Wait here." Shannon darts out the door and down the staircase, racing from room to room searching for the puppy. She checks out the back window and doesn’t see him in the yard so she sprints back up the stairs and into her room. Jasper is sprawled out on her bed, laying on his back with his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he snores softly. She calls him three times and he doesn’t respond, which is disappointing but not unexpected. He hasn’t learned his name yet, much to her parents’ dismay, but he has learned to sit and to use the bathroom outside.

Shannon jumps onto her bed beside the puppy and starts rubbing his stomach until he wiggles and shakes and she can’t help but giggle. She scoops him up and blunders back to Beatrice’s room, tumbling inside and holding the puppy up for Beatrice to inspect. She takes a half step away from him, turning her nose up and away subtly.

"Do you not like dogs?" Shannon can’t help but be disappointed, Beatrice had admitted to being a cat person years ago but Shannon didn’t think that meant she didn’t like dogs.

Beatrice opens her mouth but no sound comes out, she’s trying to explain but the words refuse to form. Its unsettling, the way she keeps making words without sound, like she has lost the ability to speak. Shannon wishes she knew what to do, knew how to read Beatrice’s mind so she didn’t have to depend on words. But she doesn’t. She’s just a kid. They both are.

They’re just kids.

So Shannon introduces her to Jasper, extending his paw for Beatrice to shake but she doesn’t force him on her. She keeps him in her lap until she manages to convince Beatrice to leave her room and gives her the grand tour, taking note of Beatrice lingering by the old piano Shannon never learned how to play and the bookshelf in the den. It will be important later, Shannon is sure of it. But it’s not now.

Beatrice is investigating Shannon’s artwork on the wall when Martha joins them in the den. If she’s surprised Beatrice has emerged from her crypt, she doesn’t show it, offers brief pleasantries before asking what they’d like for lunch. Beatrice doesn’t answer, blinks at her slowly until Shannon asks for pizza.

Beatrice doesn't speak the rest of the day. She doesn’t do much of anything, in all honesty. She just watches. It’s unnerving. Staring out the train window as her life rolls by like hills on the horizon.

She’s sunk into herself, hit an iceberg, snapped her hull in half in the freezing Atlantic. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t race for a lifeboat. She’s the violinist that played until he sank beneath the sea. She’s the men who clung to the rail and tried not to fall. She’s reaching and reaching and reaching but there’s nothing to hold. She’s been abandoned without so much as a wooden panel to keep her afloat.

She will sink beneath the waves to become a feast for the ocean’s animals.

But she doesn’t have anyone to remember her from before. She has no Rose to tell her tale half a century from now. She left no man nor woman with her story. She didn’t leave a trunk of pictures to be found and shared and valued. She’s the only one who will remember her.

No one will remember her.

Perhaps, if she remains motionless long enough, she will cease to exist entirely.

Richard and Martha receive no acknowledgment when they try to speak to her, Shannon’s the only one she responds to. She’s the only one Beatrice will turn to when she speaks, the only one she will refocus on instead of staring through the nearest wall.

Shannon tries not to listen when her parents talk in the next room, she can’t understand much, but she knows her mother’s tone. It’s the one she used when Shannon had to get her tonsils removed and when her grandfather died.

But Beatrice doesn’t need surgery and she isn’t dead. Beatrice hasn’t died.

Shannon doesn’t want Beatrice to die.

So she drags Beatrice up the stairs and tries anything and everything she possibly can to get her attention. She throws her a life ring and begs Beatrice to take it.

When Shannon tries to tell her goodnight, tries to tuck her in and retire to her own bedroom to figure out what else she can do, Beatrice almost grabs her wrist. It’s a flicker, more than anything. Her fingers follow Shannon’s but she yanks her hand back when she brushes against Shannon’s.

She balls her hands around the duvet, locks her jaw and turns away when Shannon asks about it.

"How about I sleep here tonight?" Beatrice doesn’t answer. Shannon didn’t think she would.

So Shannon pushes her over and climbs under the sheets beside her, rolls onto her side and watches the side of Beatrice’s face. If she’d blinked, she would’ve missed how Beatrice — for no longer than the time between two heartbeats — smiled. A soft, quick uptick in the corner of her mouth that Shannon almost thinks she’s imagined it.

Almost.

"Bea?" Her breathing had evened out hours ago, Shannon should be asleep too, but she’s scared if she closes her eyes, Beatrice will disappear.

Her mother’s voice haunts her, high and tight and quivering. I don’t know what else to do, Rich.

I don’t know what else to do.

Beatrice doesn’t stir, makes no acknowledgment of Shannon calling out to her. Shannon should be asleep too.

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry your parents suck. Mine are pretty cool though, so we can share them, if you’d like." Saltwater races to her pillow. "But you have to do something. It doesn’t matter what. Something, anything.

"I don’t want you to die."

Beatrice flinches when she sniffles hard, rolls away when Shannon tries to apologize. Instead, she presses her palm between Beatrice’s shoulder blades. Focuses on the steady thump beneath her fingers. Shannon should be asleep too.

Thump thump

Shannon doesn’t want Beatrice to die.

Thump thump

Shannon should be asleep too.

Thump thump

She doesn’t want Beatrice to die.

Thump thump

For now, Beatrice is alive.

Thump thump

For now, that has to be enough.

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heartbreakgrill · 1 year

Text

kol mikaelson; best friend’s brother, pt 1.

“cause he’s such a dream. and you know what i mean. if you weren’t related...”

a/n: dividing this into multiple parts because it will be well over 20k words when i am done lol

"y/n! come in, come in!" rebekah's bright smile appeared as she pulled open the front door. her grin was infectious, and i felt my cheeks dimple in response. she stepped aside, ushering me in with her hand.

i'd been to her house before, though it was a short visit to pick damon up one time when he had been vamp-napped. but that didn't stop me from admiring the architecture of the beautiful building. it was a wondrous mansion, full of gorgeous marble carvings, scooping staircases with rounded edges, and windows, none smaller than i was tall.

"hurry, before my brothers come to terrorize us," rebekah snapped me out of my longing gazes, bursting a giggle from my throat.

she pointed to the stairs with another wisp of her hand, and i followed her up it. "my room's the first door up here."

when we reached the landing, i took in a new part of the house i'd never seen. the continued modern elegance theme of the house took up the second floor, as well. rebekah's door was cream, matching the color pallet, but it was hanging wide open. she had probably raced down the stairs the second she heard you press the doorbell.

she shut it tightly behind the two of us, and clicked the lock for extra security. "so, did you bring it?"

rebekah watched as i dumped my purse and book bag on the bed. i had promised her a few weeks ago that she could borrow the copy of my favorite book. having missed out on the last century of the universe, rebekah was somewhat behind on her reading. and she was a sucker for romance novels, which was part of the reason we got along.

i revealed the bent and torn copy, a sly smile growing on my face. "one copy of the duke and i for miss rebekah mikaelson."

everyone thought rebekah was a bitch. she could be- i had seen my fair share of it over the past month that we'd been friends. when i'd disagree that leo dicaprio was the hottest 90s actor, and instead argued that johnny depp was, rebekah didn't speak to me for three days. and, sure, in the past she had tried to kill your friends. but, everytime was a testament to her ability to survive. she was fervently loyal to her family, to me as her friend.

everyone was beyond shocked when they discovered i was hanging out with her. caroline threw bitch-fit- as always- and bonnie tried to talk me out of it in a sensible, respectful manner. but i ignored them.

rebekah just needed love. she needed someone to spend time with, someone to talk to. she needed humanity.

i could relate. sometimes- most times- the supernatural mess i was involved in left me constantly feeling lonely. being one of the only humans in my friend group felt like being a black sheep in the herd. plans were constantly cancelled, elena was always prioritized because of stefan and damon's tunnel vision; friday night football games turned into picking up extra shifts at the grille because of your messy schedule, or running across virginia looking for some ancient spell.

i had lost my identity as a teenage girl throughout the mess.

and rebekah was helping me feel normal again. except for when she'd substitute soda for blood bags. that was always a laugh.

we'd become friends after the most recent supernatural conflict, wherein elena had dug a metaphorical knife too deep into rebekah's back. she had brought up rebekah's constant failed connections, the fucked up dynamic of her family, while trying to make rebekah help them with some campaign against klaus.

it had been in the middle of a restaurant downtown, where we were having dinner with caroline and bonnie. just trying to have dinner with Caroline, bonnie, and elena at a restaurant downtown. i thought if we went to a different place than mystic grill, we'd avoid any entities. but, low and behold, elena always managed to draw out the crazies.

after she smeared rebekah, i watched the blonde turn on a sharp heel and retreat to the bathroom with tears falling down her face. i excused myself, and snuck off to the stalls, feeling a tug on my heart. i was always the peace keep in my friend group, the one to comfort people when they cried, whether it be after a breakup or after they turned into a vampire.

she was at the sink, attempting to clean up her mascara with a paper towel. she didn't hear me come in- but saw my frame appear in the mirror. rebekah tensed up, a dirty look on her face.

"come to twist the knife?" she sneered, balling up the paper towel tightly in her fist.

"no, i-" i hesitated, unsure of what to say. maybe she wouldn't believe me, but i wanted to help.

i stepped up to the counter beside her, set my purse on top of it, and began rummaging. i brandished a small plastic container of on-the-go makeup wipes and held them out to her.

"i always care these with me," i offered, attempting to smile.

rebekah eyed me skeptically, but took them from my hand. she tugged one out of the lid, and began to clean up her eye makeup. "you know, i'm on a date."

my heart shrunk a little at the sad revelation. "is it going well?"

"it was," rebekah laughed darkly. "elena ruins everything."

i gave a sad nod of understanding, "i know it's not her fault, but sometimes she can put a damper on things."

it was wrong- but we bonded over the fact that elena managed to always rain on either of our parades. i spent ten minutes talking to her, helping make her feel better after the awful interaction. unfortunately, most of the conversation was cracking jokes about situations we maybe shouldn't have laughed at, but it helped. it felt normal, more normal than the dinner i wet back to. i managed to hype her up, too, and sent her back out on her date with a bright smile on her face.

a day later, she'd texted me asking if i wanted to go shopping. i realized how lonely she must be- every man she'd ever loved completely betrayed her, tried to kill her, or died. she'd spent thousands of years running from her villainous father, with brothers who constantly caused problems and picked on her.

she didn't have a single friend in the entire history of time.

so i went shopping. and to lunch a few days later, to a movie, then i spent the night for the first time. she always came to my house- considering her brothers were always home, wreaking havoc. and it ended being so much fun, that she spent two nights- the entire weekend- at my house.

that was two months ago. this was the first time she was letting me stay at her house. she'd told me last week about the various rooms in her house- a pool, an in-home movie theatre, a game room. i practically jumped on her in the school hallway, threatening to stab her with a dagger to stay the night. she laughed ecstatically at my joke, but said yes.

and here we were- sitting on her bed, holding out my copy of the duke and i. she quickly took it from my clutch, squealing at the sight of the half-naked boy on the cover. i laughed, giddily, commenting, "isn't he hot?! i mean, wait till you read it-! he's so posh, and-and, ugh, he's so mean to her, but-"

"you're going to spoil it!" rebekah shoved my shoulder lightly.

we shared another laugh at the exchange. rebekah kicked off her heels and sat on her knees beside me on the bed. "i want to send you home so i can read it now," she admitted.

i scoffed at her remark, taking the book from her hands and tossing it on the back of the bed, "bitch, i want to swim! and watch a movie and play pool. so, if you do that, i'm never hanging out with you again."

rebekah giggled, "okay, okay. fine. do you wanna swim now, or later, when the sun goes down?"

"oooo," i pursed my lips in thought, "later! night swimming is so much more fun."

"i have some wine," rebekah pointed to the bar cart in the corner of her ginormous room, "and we have speakers outside."

i was finally able to take in her room, and began gushing about the decorations, there wasn't much, considering her and the rest of the mikaelson's had only move in two months ago. but, what was in the room was expensive, luxury furniture. "i'm so poor!"

we spent the next hour in there. rebekah had managed to collect things through her life- small knick knacks, favorite sweaters, hats, a few journals here and there. klaus was a back stabber- but every time he killed his siblings, he'd store their things for later. rebekah said so with a distant smile, a faraway look in her eyes. she loved her brothers.

it was a silly detail, but it made my heart so happy.

after she showed me the whole room, i felt my stomach growl. "i'm starving," i huffed, patting my stomach.

rebekah shook her head with a smile, "wanna order a pizza?"

i quickly brandished my phone, and i found the local pizza shop's contact. i okayed the order details with rebekah before clicking the dial button. i ordered a large pizza with extra cheese, and a side of break sticks. they gave me an eta, and i hung up.

i went over to my purse and dug around for my purse. "i got it this time."

rebekah grabbed my hand, "no way. this ones on me."

i knew that meant she'd compel the pizza boy, which sometimes made me uncomfortable. it wasn't fair, or practical, and bit the pizza shop in the ass. but, sometimes being with rebekah let me feel dangerous in an empowering way. like we were sneaking beers from her fridge. with bonnie ,caroline, and elena, all of my other friends, i always felt coddled. looked down upon for being human. in dangerous situations, even in ones where i could help, i was always laughed out for offering my hands.

while we waited for the pizza, rebekah said she'd show me around.i'd never gotten to see the whole layout. it was three stories tall, the mansion, but rebekah said the top floor was basically klaus' weird torture dungeon, and i laughed that maybe it was a sex dungeon. she shoved my shoulder with a high-pitched, "ew!"

rebekah shivered at the gross thought, and continued with a small grimace. "that end of the hallway is finn's room," she pointed her manicured finger to my left. "and that one is kol's."

i glanced towards the former, and then to the right. my eyes lingered on the latter, at the cream-colored door, shut tight. i had met finn, but never kol. i heard plenty of stories about his psychotic vampirism, but i had seen a picture of him on rebekah's phone. apparently, he'd stolen it from her a few weeks ago when he discovered what a selfie was;

rebekah had shown with annoyance lining her tone, but she giggled when she pulled it up to show it to me. i laughed, too, but my eyes lingered on his own for a moment. he was kinda cute. i

i shook the memory from my mind. there was a thin line of light streaming from underneath the door. but, there wasn't much movement. what did original vampires do in their off time, anyways?

i asked, "what does everybody do all day?"

rebekah shrugged, "i think finn wants to get a job in town. history reservation or something. elijah writes, as you know. kol plays video games. he's just discovered call of duty, whatever that is. he might go back to college. i go to school, obviously. and klaus just tortures."

i tittered slightly, "sounds fun."

she shrugged with a small laugh. "okay, first floor."

i followed her down the steps. she'd long since switched her signature pumps to house slippers, red, glittery ones that scraped against the floor as she walked. i was just in your socks- ones with little puppies all over them. the floor was cool against my toes, but it felt good.

as we reached the landing of the first floor, rebekah began talking again, "this is technically the foyer, though i don't know why it's so big. that's the kitchen over there, attached is a dining room, sitting room, and the library. this way is the living room, and elijah's room. there's a bathroom off the kitchen and one next to his bedroom."

i perked up at the mention of the library, and rebekah looked at you sweetly, "would you like to go see it? klaus is an expansive collector."

thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang. i was on top of the ladder in the library, running my fingers over the spines of the collection before me. the entire shelf i was wondrously gazing upon were first editions klaus had collected. anything from pride and prejudice, to a tale of a two cities. i wasn't the biggest fan of classics, but the history seeping from these novels, with a rustic cloud of smell, was engaging. my head tilted towards the sound of the doorbell, and i glanced down at rebekah.

"i got it," she nodded, waving me off. "keep looking. you seem happy."

i grinned at her retreating back. then i turned my attention back to the books. i stopped on the spine of an old classic, gently tugging it from its spot in the shelf. . i looped my arm through the ladder to balance myself as i began to open its pages. a voice sounded from the doorway.

"hello, darling."

i jumped slightly, and i gripped the ladder tighter. my heart thumped on my chest at the possibility of falling. with a hitched breath, i looked to the voice and saw a familiar boy standing there, hands in the front pockets of his sweatpants. i offered a gentle smile, "hello," i spoke quietly, shyness lacing my features and stomach. my heart rate steadied, but it still ran quick.

rebekah has always made sure kol was never around. she said he was flirtatious and obnoxious, and that she didn't want me to get caught up in his advances.

kol held my eyes in his own, a burning stare glinting in his brown eyes. he nodded towards the book in my hands, "which ones that?"

i glanced back down at the cover, then looked to him, "alice's adventures in wonderland."

"ah," kol stepped down into the room, slowly making his way closer. he continued, his eyes burning into mine, "'tis love...tis love that makes the world go round.'"

i furrowed my brows, a flurry feeling enlightening my stomach, and the corner of my lips lifted in a short smile. "you've read it?"

"when you live forever, you manage to read quite a lot of books," kol laughed lightly.

i turned from him, hoping if it broke eye contact, it would steady my heart. i slipped the novel back between the books on the highest shelf. "i'm not a fan of it, to be honest."

kol scoffed, "what! how?"

i began to ramble, turning back to face him, "i just don't like it. it's chaos. i know it's supposed to be- but there's no moral for me to connect to. i-"

amidst my rambling, i lost your footing on the ladder. i yelped as my felt your body tugged down by gravity, and my arms reached out, trying to grab the ladder. i was falling.

i heard a whoosh beneath me and, suddenly, i landed gently in someone's arms. i threw my arms out, holding tightly to their neck, and shoved my head up against their shoulder. my eyes were squeezed shut, an attempt to look away from the ground as i fell, but i slowly peeked one open. my heart was beating out of my chest.

i turned my head to the side and caught kol's eyes. his breath was warm across my face and a worried look creasing his brows. "you okay, darling?"

i immediately blushed, and shoved myself out of his arms. i found your footing on the ground, and put some distance between myself and him. i shoved my back agains the book case. "i'm fine," i breathed outwards, with a hand against my thumping chest, "thanks. i'm- fine."

kol went to respond when rebekah's voice sounded from the hallway, her slippers making that scuffing sound across the flooring. "that delivery boy was cute, y/n. i'm going to get his number for you next time-"

as she turned the corner into the room, her voice cut off. "kol! leave y/n alone!"

i blushed a deeper shade of red, feeling embarrassed that i was interacting with her brother. it wasn't like it was a crime, like she had banned me from doing so. but the situation felt secret, scandalous. i pressed my lips together in a thin line, staring at the floor beside rebekah's slippers.

the air was tense.

kol crossed his arms over his chest, "oh, sister, im just trying to introduce myself to your friend. you never let me meet her."

rebekah set her hands on her hips, "because you're creepy."

i wanted to laugh at the sibling rivalry, the funny quips and remarks they shot at each other. but, knowing their short tempers, i minded my business.

"ah, that's not true," kol replied. "don't make me look badly in front of your friend. y/n, is it?"

he met my eyes again, and a heat ran through me. i nodded, but rebekah interrupted the moment.

"well, you've introduced yourself. now, get out. don't you have some slaughtering to do?" rebekah's voice got a little higher, annoyance thick in her tone. she was losing patience.

i smiled politely, "it was nice meeting you," i turned to rebekah and began making my way to the door. "let's go watch a movie. i'm starving still."

rebekah sent another glare in kol's direction before giving in, following me out of the library. "just try to ignore him, please," she spoke.

i shrugged, "it's okay. he didn't bother me too much."

rebekah, a quick walker due to her impatience, quickly got ahead of me. i trailed behind, and almost stopped dead in my tracks to glance back over my left shoulder. kol was in the doorway, watching our retreating figures with a simple gaze, one of curiosity.

i sent him another smile, and waved my hand. kol's smirk grew.

he winked at me.

—

i was barely watching the movie. i kept staring the door with anticipation, wondering if he'd crash through them with that same smirk on his face. i knew it wasn't realistic- why would he? but i was craving his gaze.

i could feel the heat of his hands lingering on my thighs, on the curve of my back. i wanted to touch him again, just his arm or his cheek, to see if he was really that warm, or if i had imagined it. it was like he had burned me, and it was lingering on my skin.

i peeled my eyes from the door, and refocused onto the pizza box on the coffee table. rebekah flicked her eyes at your movement, but her wide-dough eyes were mainly yearning to consume the entertainment on the television. i took a big bite of the pizza slice, swallowed, and reached for my soda can. i almost rested it's opening to my lips, but the weight of it felt extremely light in my hold. i shook it, and heard the remnants of the soda rattle at the very bottom of the can.

here was my excuse.

i sat up, body stiff with anticipation. i cleared my throat, ran my tongue over my teeth to clean off the pizza. "iiiiiiiiii...m- im gonna get more soda..." i dragged out my words, trying to be careful. "you want some?"

rebekah flicked her hand in my direction, murmured something denying the offer.

i slyly set my pizza slice into the box and, with the empty can in tow, slipped out of the room. i practically tip-toed through the halls, towards the kitchen. every time i passed a doorway, i extended my neck to look through it. to look for him.

i felt foolish and silly- but giddy with excitement. what would i say if i ran into him? what would i do? he was probably in his room, playing call of duty. but what if he was waiting for me, too? there was that look in his eyes-

oh, my god. i'm pathetic. i want to be a typical teenager, but this is extreme. i shook my head of the cheesy thoughts, finally reaching the kitchen.

i dumped the trash into the garbage can. i didn't know where the cups were, but i really wanted a glass of water. i placed my hands on my hips, glancing around the cupboards before. i didn't know where the glasses were, so i began rummaging through every cabinet in search of them.

all of a sudden, within the moment of a small gust of air being interrupted, and the ruffle of the hair on my shoulders, i felt a presence engulf my back. my breath hitched, for the second time this evening, and i watched from the corner of my gaze as an arm reached around my head, pulling open the cupboard above me.

he closed his fingers around a glass, and brought it down to in front of my face. the moment lasted much longer than 10 seconds- but in actuality, it felt like the single blink of an eye. i let out the breath that filled your stomach, shaky with a curios ruin. my heart rate spiked.

"looking for this, darling?" his voice was hot as it breathed past my ear. it spiraled goosebumps down my body, tickling every sense along my spine.

i tried to steady my hand, but it was shaking as i took it from his grasp. "t-thank you."

i turned to face him, sure he would step back, but he stayed at his sultry distance. i backed up against the counter as much as i could, hugging the glass to my chest.

the corner of his pink lips curled into that signature smirk. he leaned in further, pressing both of his palms into the counter beside my hips. i finally got a good look at his eyes- and they were brown.

a golden hued, chocolatey brown that oozed warmth, radiated comfort. and bled desire.

my eyes flickered away from his. i remembered what rebekah said. he was a flirt. this is what he did. and i felt silly for thinking it was because of me.

i made my eyes refocus on the collar of his shirt. attempting to ground myself. "i-i've gotta get...back. to rebekah."

"bekah won't miss you too much if you stay here a moment longer," kol shrugged. he tilted his head to catch my gaze again.

i went red-hot all over my body- the blood rushed to the surface of my skin, as if to embarrass me in this moment. man, he was great at this.

i averted my eyes again, and pulled my body back further. i hugged the cup to my chest in an attempt to shy away from him. maybe he would back off if he saw i was uncomfortable.

though that was a lie.

kol did. his smirk faltered for a single second once he noticed i was shrinking away. he took the glass from my hands, fingers barely grazing my skin, and filled it up at the fridge.

i caught my wrist with my other hand and nervously wrung it for a moment. watching as he filled the glass, my heart rate began to steady and the heat dissipated. distance was good.

"here you are, love," he presented the cup like a golden apple, "one glass of water."

i cracked a small smile, managing to elicit a cheeky response now that distance was between you. "are you a waiter now?"

"might take up that profession," kol leaned back against the island, making a questioning face with a pursed, deep frown. it was silly.

i giggled, "have fun with that. and thanks for the water."

kol sent me another wink as i headed for the exit, "anything for the beautiful damsel in distress."

i laughed again, but quickly sped out of there.

he was really good.

—

rebekah was in love with julia roberts.

as i picked up your trash from the movie room and hauled it to the kitchen garbage, she ranted on and on about the actresses portrayal of the woman in notting hill.

i tossed the pizza box, a few paper plates, and two more soda cans into the trash. distantly listening, my mind began to wander. again. what was wrong with me?

it was like his very presence in this house was putting me on edge. it felt like i was playing cat and mouse- only i was a not-so cautious mouse with a death wish. every time i heard a door close, every time footsteps shook the ceiling, my heart jumped out of my throat.

rebekah poured a blood bag into a glass, decorating it with a pink straw that had an umbrella on it. she began to go on about julia roberts purse, but i interrupted. i knew it was a bad idea, to plant this conversation, but i needed to know something.

"so, what's with kol, anyways?" i asked, distant.

her mouth hung open slightly, "what?" rebekah furrowed her brows.

i shrugged, sliding up onto the bar stool. "what's his deal? like, i know about you, elijah, and klaus. but what about kol?"

"he's a psycho, y/n," she took a sip through the straw, manicured fingers holding onto the end. "he throws temper tantrums and runs off to kill dozens of people constantly. he's the most problematic of all of us. he was wreckless before he turned and it's only enhanced by his immortality."

i nodded along to her words, my fingers playing with one another atop the counter. i couldn't say you were happy to hear that the one original vampire you thought was cute was a murdered. but the information helped ground me more. there it was; another reason to snap the hell out of it. "oh, joy...do you guys not get along well?"

rebekah continued drinking, and as she swallowed, she thought. "depends on the day. i can't say that we always do. sometimes. he's just very- closed off, i guess. sometimes i try to bridge the gap, but he doesn't let anybody in."

the hurt was evident in her eyes, and she tried to play off his discomfort by staring into her drink. i quickly changed the subject, settled on dropping him from my mind for good. he could flirt as much as he wanted, but i wasn't going to let him toy with me. i was better than that. "let's stop talking about your brother and go swimming. it's finally dark out."

rebekah glanced over my shoulder, to the sliding patio doors. the back yard was completely pitch black. she thought for another moment before a smile lit up her face. rebekah walked over to the doors. she slipped a switch, and the porch flooded with light.

"now that sounds like fun."

i perked up at the sight of the ginormous pool. the deck extended out over the yard, providing a direct drop off into the pool. there were lounge chairs, couches circled around a fire pit.

"hey, can we have a fire later?" i offered. "we can make s'mores."

rebekah looked at you with a bewildered face, "what the hell is a s'more?"

"just say yes," i tittered with a tease, jumping off the stool.

we quickly went upstairs and changed into our bathing suits. rebekah offered a beach towel, still with the tags on it. i laughed at its newness and ripped the tags off. i wrapped it around my shoulders, chilly from the stale air of the house. vampires didn't need heat, or air, so the cold virginia night seeped through the cracks in the molding between windows and doors, sending shivers down my spine.

"the pools heated," rebekah noticed the goosebumps trailing my bare skin. "let me go ask somebody about the house, though. don't see why we can't cater to you considering we can't feel much."

i nodded with a smile, and followed her down the stairs, again. though it was magnificent, the house was like a built-in gym. to get from any point a to any point b, we had had to cross numerous football fields worth of space. i took a deep breath as we hit the first floor landing, feeling silly and human at the fact that i was out of breath.

rebekah took a sniff, which was strange, but after she turned her head to the kitchen and made a determined march towards it, you remembered that's how she operated. she located people by smell. klaus, finn, and elijah were all sitting around the island, just...hanging out? all the warnings my friends had given me remained more and more untrue every single day. this was a family- a normal, old, ordinary family.

sometimes they hung out in the kitchen, drinking beers and playing a game of rummy. finn must have still been learning, because he looked distraught and confused.

"oh, little sister, perfect," klaus waved her over with a finger.

rebekah rolled her eyes, but stepped closer to his shoulder. "yes, nik?"

"tell me; does this look like a worthy risk to take?" klaus smirked, though it was not as menacing as his others have been in the past. it was simple mischief. brotherly cheating in a card game.

i smiled slightly as elijah slapped his cards into the table with a groan. "you cannot cheat, niklaus! we've been over this!"

klaus looked offended, "it is not cheating if i ask someone not in the game!"

"that's literally the definition of cheating," the words slipped from your tongue with a giggle. i expected them to be angry that i bugged into their conversation, but elijah simply looked to me with comradery.

"thank you! it's the definition, klaus," elijah took a swig of his beer.

"if anyone gets to cheat, it should be me," finn groaned. he looked up at me with these puppy dog eyes, tilting his cards slightly towards my gaze.

i stepped closer with an encouraging grin. "let's see..."

elijah groaned even louder, slapping his cards to his face this time. "oh, i give up!"

i helped finn pick out a set of hearts, 9-J to play off of elijah's 6-8. finn was so happy, he stood from his chair and hugged me tightly.

rebekah finally got annoyed by her brothers and cleared her throat over the rowdiness. "can someone please turn the heat on in this house for y/n? the poor things freezing."

everyone looked to me, concern lacing their features. elijah set his cards down on the table and stood up, "let's see. i think there's something called a thermostat."

klaus looked to his brother curiously, but finn was focused on his hand. "what's that?"

rebekah pulled out of her phone, "i'll look it up."

a laugh burst out of my chest, and i went red as everyone looked to me again. i padded over to elijah, saying, "i know how to do that."

there was a vent beside your feet, and a warm shiver trailed your body as it burst open and air trickled out. "ah, there we go," i sighed in content. "thank you," i nodded up at elijah.

he smiled kindly. "are you two going swimming, then?" he pointed between us, glancing at the lit-up pool.

"figured we might as well get some use out of those dreadful house," rebekah commented as she leaned against the counter.

klaus set down the cards in his hands, and fumbled with his beer. he looked thoughtful, "swimming sounds intriguing."

finn looked up, "swimming is an activity these days?"

rebekah shrugged, "it's strangely fun."

"well, enjoy yourselves," elijah spoke, sliding back onto his seat.

rebekah pushed off the counter and grabbed two wine glasses from a cupboard. the bottle of wine she brought from her room sat in her other arm. she looked at me with raised brows, "oh, we will, brother. let's go."

bubbling with excitement, i moved to the sliding glass doors and opened one for rebekah. she stepped out into the night, and waited for me to close it. "okay, you probably know how to use this better than i," rebekah said as she neared a set of speakers. "it's bluetooth? whatever that means."

i laughed for the millionth time, "don't worry. i've got it."

i slumped onto a lounge chair near the speaker, fiddling with the buttons and volume in order to connect my phone. rebekah set the wine glasses and the bottle onto the outdoor dining table. she opened the bottle without even using a wine opener, and poured it into the two glasses.

she brought one over just as the speakers beeped, indicating my phone had connected. i put my playlist on shuffle, and rebekah cheered as a one direction song came on.

"oh, i just love harry styles," she gushed, taking a large gulp of her wine.

"me, too," i swirled the wine around in my glass. "you know what i love even more? swimming. so, peace out."

i stood from the chair and padded over to the pool. i crouched down, setting my wine glass on the concrete siding, and plopped onto my butt. i dipped my feet into the water, and with my palms pressed against the ground, pushed myself into the pool. it came up to my stomach, and i yelped at the cold.

rebekah laughed at my response, tip-toeing to the water with a giant pink pool floaty in her hands. she went around the to the steps and carefully balanced onto the float. as she passed me, i grabbed my glass of wine and downed a large sip.

"this is amazing," rebekah commented, her head lolling back as her eyes fell shut.

i took another sip of my drink before setting it down. "i know, right? this is peak luxury."

rebekah snorted at my comment. "you really are poor."

i scoffed and splashed her with water. her face scrunched up as she flinched, and she kicked her floaty away from me. using the hair tie on my wrist, i pulled my hair up into a very messy bun.

"not all of us have spent eternity, dining with kings and queens," i mocked the last part in a faux-accent.

"i've never dined with a king. a few queens, yes. an emperor? yes. the president? sure. but never a king."

i rolled my eyes, "whatever."

rebekah's floaty spun away from me slowly. she was humming to the one direction song, looking fully content with the relaxing moment.

turning from her, i took a deep breath, shut my eyes, and dove into the water. i swam down to the deep end, and when my hand met the wall, i came up for air. i wiped the water from my eyes, holding onto the edge of the pool so i didn't have to tire my kicking feet. i spun to face the doors to the house, planting my elbows onto the side of the pool.

then, i spotted kol. he was walking through the kitchen, a beer in his hands. he was obviously teasing his brothers, based on the smirk he wore and the annoyance seeping from his family members' expressions. my eyes followed him while he peered over klaus' shoulder, and a chuckle fell from my throat as klaus shoved him away. kol put his hands up defensively, but his ear perked up at the sound of my laugh. his eyes met mine through the glass, his lips lifting further into a grin.

i quickly turned away, taking another breath to dive back under the water. but, i heard the sliding glass door peel open within the span of seconds. i watched rebekah lift her head off of the back of the floaty and glare at the new presence on the patio.

"kol, leave."

i faced him, anticipating a cheeky response. "oh, but beks, this looks like fun. let me join!"

elijah stood from the island and stepped outside, "kol," he spoke, firmly, "leave them alone."

kol raised his hands defensively, again, "i'm not trying to cause anything, 'lijah. i honestly want to swim, as well. look, they've got music, drinks. it seems like a great time."

elijah looked to rebekah, who was glaring at the exchange. he gave her a knowing look and she drew back, beginning to yell out a no, but elijah said, "if we can't swim in a pool together, what kind of family are we?"

elijah, kol, and i looked to rebekah expectantly, awaiting her permission. she glanced at me and i shrugged, "i don't mind. maybe we could play chicken."

"kay," rebekah furrowed her brows, "i don't know what the hell that is. but..." she paused, stared deeply into her wine glass, took the biggest gulp, and said, "what the hell!"

elijah, klaus, and kol changed into bathing suits. finn went out. klaus tried out the diving board and showed off an insane front flip into the water. elijah took the steps, carefully and skillfully entering the water. i held onto rebekah's floaty, laughing with her at klaus' flip.

i reached for my glass of wine on the side of the pool when, all of a sudden, we heard kol yell from inside the house. he came running out, yelling all the while, in a pair of pineapple swim trunks. he jumped into the middle of the pool, cannon-balling. i let go of my wine glass and, instead, braced myself on the concrete. the water shook us all around, mini-waves swirling from his jump.

rebekah groaned, while elijah and klaus shared a laugh. i smiled, and watched as kol popped out of the water. he flipped back his head, his wet hair sending a splash towards klaus. the former brother pounced in response, tackling kol into the water. they wrestled for a moment, laughter ringing in my ears, before kol pushed klaus away.

"so, what is this chicken game, y/n?" kol said, through heavy breaths from the exertion. "does it involve chickens?"

i looked to him, the grin never leaving my face. upon meeting my gaze, his lips lifted up a bit. i faltered, but pushed on, "i don't know why it's called that. there are no chickens involved. basically, two people sit on two other people's shoulders and each tries to push the other off. its really fun."

"i'm game," klaus raised a finger.

i glanced at him, then to rebekah, "how about you?"

she shrugged, "i wanna relax. that sounds stressful."

elijah, of all people, swam over to her. she looked at him warningly as he got too close, "don't be boring, sister." suddenly, he lifted the bottom of her floaty and flipped her off of it. rebekah screamed as she went, her wine glass falling in beside her.

i gripped the side of the pool, laughing my ass off at the exchange. i glanced around and saw kol was staring at me with the brightest smile. my face flushed red and i stopped. he scrunched his nose at me, as if to acknowledge my resistance, and looked away.

rebekah came out of the water with an angry expression on her face. "oh, you're dead!"

rebekah claimed klaus as her fighting partner instantly. she got onto his shoulders with determination as elijah climbed onto kol. they moved towards a shallower, yet still deep enough, end of the pool. the water dipped beneath kol's chest as it rippled. i let my eyes wander there for the first time, and i blushed red. i was hot- though it was chilly outside- to the very core. kol caught my expression for what felt like the millionth guilty time and he winked.

he had to stop doing that.

i pulled myself onto the edge of the pool letting just my feet sink in the water as i watched them fight. "okay," i caught everyone's attention, "no super strength! it's not fair. and, on 3- 1...2...3!"

rebekah reached forward with all her might and began shoving elijah at his shoulders. kol held on tightly, though, white knuckling elijah's thighs. it took a while for one of them to fall, but, eventually, elijah fell back into the water. kol managed to evade the crash and swam out from under his brother.

rebekah looked to me with excitement. she shook her triumphant fists in the air, before grabbing klaus' head and tugging it around. he laughed at his little sister's antics.

shortly after everyone calmed down, rebekah demanded she go again. "but, i want y/n to play! this was her idea, after all."

klaus nodded, still holding his sister on his shoulders. "yeah, cmon, y/n!"

i lifted myself into the pool, smiling at their encouragement. scanning kol and elijah, i hoped to myself that the former would be the one to hold me on his shoulders. elijah went to offer, but kol cut him off, "i've got you, darling."

kol held out his hand, the one with his daylight ring on the finger. i swam over, trying not to stare at the veins running from his knuckles and up his arms. i delicately placed my hand in his and let him pull me closer. i could feel eyes on us and i knew it was rebekah. she was more than likely pissed at kol, and glaring daggers into his skin. but i tried to ignore that. even if his flirtasious advances were just how he was, i could relish on his skin touching mine.

even if that was wrong, too.

kol placed my hand on his shoulder as he pulled me around, to his back. "ready?" he peered over his shoulder, and when i nodded, he pushed down into the water. i braced my hands on his shoulders, swinging one leg at a time over them. i felt his large hands stable my legs on him and, when he felt they were, he came up.

i squeaked at the easy force, as if i weighed nothing, and gripped onto his hands. his skin really was that warm. kol looked up at me, "you okay, love?"

i nodded, "y-yes. let's get 'em."

i, unfortunately, did not get anybody. rebekah either couldn't not use her supernatural strength, or she was just abnormally strong. she pushed me under twice, and i was not willing to try a third time. each time i fell off kol's shoulders, he'd quickly whip around and fish me out by the hips. it was too much for my little heart, which was beating completely out of my chest.

in the last round, kol spun as soon as he felt me slip, and caught me so my legs were wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping the underneath of my thighs. i gasped as the space between our faces was non-existent. his breath was minty like before, hot and sharp as his chest pushed in and out heavily. kol contemplated my face, eyes flickering between my lips and my eyes.

the world around us felt like it froze in time. as if kol and i were encased in a snowglobe, the laughter from his brothers and sister were muffled onlookers. as if we were sitting on a shelf, in some faraway shop, price tagged for a moment that was forever occurring. just him and i, floating through time.

my fingers slipped through the hair at the nape of his neck, and i felt him shiver at my touch. but, as the moment came to a jarring snap back into time, i twisted my lips into a frowning smile. i slid my hands to either of his shoulders, squeezed gently once, and pushed myself back from him. i slipped into the water and kicked lightly to put distance between us.

whatever that was- whatever was happening here, needed to stop.

rebekah was fervently loyal- so much so that she was territorial. she had lost so much in her life- friends, lovers, parents, and siblings. she made sure that what she had was hers- even if it meant people would die.

if she knew her best friend and her brother had shared as many moments as they had today, that they had both felt a spark, felt a shimmer of something, she would surely dagger kol.

she wouldn't lose to me, especially not to him.

as i swam back from him, kol's eyes downturned with restless confusion. i knew, from the way his hands gripped at my skin, the way his vision desired me, that he meant more than to ruffle my feathers. that he held felt an attraction towards me.

and i had felt it for him, too.

i bit my lip harshly, hoping to bleed out the feelings, and shook my head.

no.

we couldn't.

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x you #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson x y/n #the originals #the originals x reader #the originals x y/n #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #nathaniel buzolic sucks but kol is hot so fuck me

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feretra · 6 months

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sorry for not writing much today, by the by. today would have been my maternal grandma’s birthday. and it’s not as if she didn’t have a good life, per se —

( mind the tags before clicking )

but it still haunts me that my last words to her were, “don’t die before i talk to you next” because i was supposed to be seeing her in under twelve hours and she had choked on something when we were talking on the phone. it was an idle joke. my mom’s family has that kind of dark, finnic humor.

but then the next day i went to go see her and i knocked and knocked but she wouldn’t lift her head off the kitchen table we did everything at. she just looked like she was sleeping, from a distance. and without thinking i punched the glass out next to the front door and let myself in, and now bloodied i went to shake her, pull her up. her face was pallid and blue, blood already pooling and oozing out from her nose and mouth while her clouded over eyes stared directly through me.

it’s been years, that memory still hasn’t lost any vibrancy. and it doesn’t haunt me because i am scared of death. that memory and the events that birthed it taught me about the power of words, even when you mean them to have no power at all.

it reminds me of my final interaction with my mother; where even in her delirium, i held her hand and sobbed and told her i loved her over and over. smiled and laughed even with all the hate i felt in my heart of the time i had been robbed and for all the terrible people who get to carry the diagnosis and live, while i was forced to know, make sense of, and watch my mother die in under a week of the same fucking disease. because the world is as unfair as it is cruel. but i couldn’t let any of that show. none. because i was so scared of making that mistake again, speaking a power into words i did not intend, and seeing the result of an idle comment or joke turned into a curse staring me down with white fucking eyes all over again.

and every year on her birthday, i think about it. rarely do i talk about it, but it is there along the margins. makes me ponder on the lesson and the horrors and what it means to be a human being with the ability to so recklessly turn sound into blades and metaphor into malediction.

all of this came roaring through about twenty minutes ago, as i was otherwise attempting to enjoy act three of bg3. i guess we will cry instead.

#ooc #tw death #[ like not just mentioning it like actual physical death ]#[ this feels like unresolved trauma mmmmm oh well ]

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thewingedmuse · 1 year

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(a) Danielle, or D.A

(b) She/they

(c) Romantic, as I've had abusive relationships and people cheating on me, so I want to have a glimpse of my love life :')

(d) I feel like love is just caring for someone to the point that you feel their pain, happiness, sadness, and anger, and find yourself resonating and compiling with it... someone who's there for the whole rollercoaster, whether its romantic, platonic, friendship, or any other type of love

ofc I'll give feedback, and have a wonderful day!

Hello! Thank you for joining Your Entwined Bonds! Hope you're well 🐚 ✨

Danielle, your soul is graceful and swan-like. She has soft brown skin, doe-like brown eyes, dark hair and very bright aura. She is ethereal. The brightness of her aura isn't blinding but soft, like how the morning sun could be seen in its full radiance from behind lace curtains. Her energy feels like clam shells and pearls, it also reminds me of fresh cream and lace with how soft, smooth and fragrant her energy is. She has a very soft and gentle voice with a melodious quality. She has elegant demeanor, and when speaking she would nod her head and smile softly.

I asked if I could tap into her essence in order to give you more knowledge about her. She agreed. She was originally a creature borne by the lake, like an elemental being. There were vibrant red and pink flowers growing by the lake which she very much enjoyed. With time she gained a sense of self from being by the lake absorbing its natural essence. This is the origin of how she came to be.

Your soul's message to you

"Tell her I said hello. Tell her the world outside is tough, and to trust herself. Trust in your abilities even if you doubt. Find your inner balance. If anything, you're capable enough."

After your soul has imparted her message, I asked if she could lead the way to your romantic soulmate who missed you the most. She agreed, and gestured forward.

I bowed to her in gratitude, and walked along the direction she showed me. I didn't know where I was going but before long I came across a guy.

He has dark brown skin. Seems a bit goofy with his mannerisms because he has very expressive body language that shows just what he's thinking. He has a patient, casual voice that relaxes you and makes you laugh. His build looks between athletic and average, he's quite tall with broad shoulders. He looked lost and confused lol. He stopped walking when he saw me.

"Uh do you know what you're doing here?" I asked him.

"Yeah I'm," he said while looking back at your soul's direction. "I'm called for an interview?"

"Yeah, you're Danielle's soulmate right?"

"Yeah that's right."

"Would you like to tell Danielle your name?"

He told his name which I'll send to you in private. Names hold power and it's best not to share it in public.

As this conversation progressed like an interview, my questions would be in highlight.

What do you think about the past lives you shared with Danielle?

"They were challenging but introspective, we learned things about each other that we otherwise wouldn't be able to. Multi-perspective."

What's your perfect day like?

"Out spending time with myself, kayaking, camping under the stars, just doing my own thing. Might bring my dog. Ask Danielle to join me, if she will," he said those last three words softly, tenderly.

What's your favourite memory in your past lives with Danielle?

"Making popcorn, I remember it popped so hard it got onto her," he laughed. "Watching TV, movie nights. Holding hands. Her walking in front of me, it's like I could see only her, man. It's like she's a whole new world opening up to me and I could barely take my eyes off her. She's that special. And her being herself, throwing some tantrums. My baby and I always make up the very next day. Couldn't keep our hearts apart. I guess that's what love makes you."

How long ago was the popcorn past life?

"Very long ago, when we used to cook popcorn, when TV wasn't even in colour."

What movies did you both enjoy?

"Shark movies. Ophelia, there was a while where she particularly enjoyed Hamlet too."

What are the memories you believe Danielle needs to remember about her past lives with you?

"Remember the lessons we learned from it so that it won't be repeated."

What lessons did you learn from your past lives with her?

"That it's OK to just be alone. It's OK to do your own thing and not mind what others say."

What lessons do you think Danielle learned from her past lives with you?

"Not blame herself. Not carry that self blame and self doubt, or self hatred in her heart. Sometimes she gave in too much. She gave too much of herself away."

What is the common theme in your past lives with Danielle?

"Sharing each other's burdens. Camaraderie. We get each other. We know each other. We are like that missing jigsaw puzzle. We support each other." There were some lives in which you were not a couple but very close friends and you shared this kind of dynamic too.

Will you be meeting Danielle as your present incarnation?

"I certainly hope so," he said. Though he fears there would be a problem with time, like right place wrong time kind of thing. He said things like this cannot be predicted or controlled, you just live with it.

What is your present incarnation like?

"Unique, struggling to either fit it or stand out because he's so different from the others, alienated, has issues about self presentation and he just needs to figure it out with time and maturity because maturity is gathered with experience and insight." He could have a future as a performer or artist, it's his talent. He struggles with his own gender though, curious about being more female-leaning.

What message do you have for Danielle?

"It's OK to be alone. Seek help if you need. Don't be like bottled up." He really wished that you would ask for help when you need and not be averse to approaching others too.

What do you wish you could have done or done more with Danielle in your past lives?

"Cook food, try out new recipes, experiment with wild things, just totally let ourselves go, chase dreams,go on a yacht ride, go crazy!"

What are your parting words with Danielle?

He would like to sing you a lullaby so you'd sleep and that's how he's gonna slip away while you're sleeping peacefully. He wants you to know that the next time you see stars notice how bright they are because that's how much love he has for you. "Goodbye," he said, waving gently.

That's it! I hope this reading gave you insight, warmth and many happy feelings. Please remember to give feedback! Take care! Have a lovely day and a restful night.

#asks #thewingedmuse:entwined💟

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themidnightzoneandback · 1 year

Text

Botanical Blues

Synopsis: Agreeing to meet every summer in the botanical gardens of Oxford, Will and Lyra share what they’ve been up to in the past year to one another.

(Hdm yuletide 2021 day 2: Favourite place — Botanical gardens)

Pairing: Lyra Silvertongue x William Parry (Silverparry)

——————-

It was on the balmy days of late summer that two frequent visitors arrived, the time being midday. A boy and his dæmon, mistaken for a house pet, came to a certain spot in the entire clearing, one that was very special to the both of them, a wooden bench under a large oak that always welcomed them with open arms. It was under mellow skies that the boy found himself taking in the familiar scent of the botanical gardens that he adores. There was an array of foliage from high trees that blanketed them all here in nature’s palms and there were beds of a million flowers that the boy couldn't begin to name, on display to the public.

His name was William Parry. His dæmon was Kirjava, a cat that held her tail up as high as the sun.

Each time they’ve walked through this place, it felt like they were trespassing into a lost paradise of some sorts. It was as if nothing but happiness could be shared among this safe space. But with his eyes shining against the yellow shine of the sunflowers, his skin complimenting the bearded irises and his lips as tender as the petals of lavenders, he knows that today is the only day in the entire year that he’ll intoxicate this garden whole.

“Can you smell that?” His dæmon asks him, following him down the path of the garden.

The boy held his tongue for a second, he heard of many names of all different kinds of flowers pop up in his mind. But alas, he only settled with the three he felt most familiar with. “Roses, lilies, carnations, there's so many scents all blended together, it’s hard to tell.” He replies to his companion.

The cat purred. “That’s what I smell too.” She agrees with him in contemptment. They were one, if that’s what he smelled, she smelled it too.

“Well, she’s probably already here. Come on, Kirjava.” He strolled away from his cat-shaped dæmon, knowing very well that she would follow him despite their ability to separate from one another. Kirjava padded quietly behind him, keeping at a slow pace to take in the scenery of this place that they only return to once per year, it never fails to amaze the both of them.

He took a seat down on the bench, keeping to the right side as he always did each time he came here. Before they said goodbye to each other for the last time, this is where he had sat down meanwhile Lyra was on the left. The two of them knew very well that they would memorize the seating, they would memorize anything to keep the scene as it was two years ago.

“Hi, Lyra, how are you?” He goes silent and he nervously glances down to look at his dæmon, who was sitting by his feet. It happens every year that he’s no longer surprised at the accidental and reoccurring tradition. He pauses because he couldn't physically see Lyra, and he knew how strange it was to be talking to thin air. But both he and his dæmon knew that she and Pantalaimon were listening to him on the other side of this bench. The cat tilted her head to the side, giving him a look that said: ‘Well, speak?’

The boy nodded to himself and even with no one around, he continued to talk nonetheless like he really was talking to someone.

“I’m doing fine, in case you responded already, high school has kept me busy, how is school in your world?” Again, another pause for her to respond and when Will felt it was long enough, he picked back up. His mind lit up with information that he nearly forgot, he just had to tell her. “Did I ever tell you that I’m studying to become a doctor?” He stifled a laugh to ease the silence, he could hear Lyra’s shocked gasps and encouraging words beside him, even if he was probably only imagining them, it was a nice thought. “Yeah, my mum’s been very proud of me, she always has been. She tells me my dad would be too if he were still here.”

It was thanks to her that he even got the chance to meet his real father, even if it was only for a couple of seconds. He’s never been so thankful. He’s thankful of their adventures and her leading him to the subtle knife in the world of the Specters.

“Lyra,” he says absentmindedly for a second. He didn’t know what caused the sudden defocus, was it hesitation? He did want her to know something that happened a few days ago, but he wasn’t sure if on the other side of the bench, she would be as delighted as he was.

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. It was foolish thinking and he felt for a second like he was making decisions for Lyra. She wasn’t imaginary, she was very much real and she was listening to him on the other side of this bench.

He couldn’t lie to her about this, he and his dæmon knew it. He had a feeling that deep down, he was overthinking things. Lyra would be proud of him for coming this far, so he saw no reason to hide from her. He sighs, bringing his hands to his knees. “I made some new friends at school recently.” He stared at the ground as he spoke. “We found out we had similar interests and they’ve treated me very kindly. I decided to be more open and this is where it led me. I’m very happy with how far I’ve gone.”

The pause didn’t go on for long because Will’s face suddenly lurched with indistinguishable panic, he could picture Lyra’s envious frown from the other side of the bench looking right at him. His heart dropped.

Picking himself up from fumbling over his words, he cleared his throat and shook his head in distress at where she sat. “But I want you to know that no one’s ever going to replace you, you’re my very best friend.” His pulse began to calm when he reassured her that she will always be the one for him, and his shoulders eased at that. “There’s no one else that I’m ever going to cross worlds with, meet in Cittagáze, and I cannot imagine anyone else believing in me as much as you have. Nor would I want there to be.”

He admitted to her, a smile creeping back on his lips — he was realizing that as he spoke about their days together, how much he missed spending time with her and how much he missed talking with her face to face.

Will knew that he had nothing more to say to her, his life went on as ordinary as ever. Even if he did, he had a feeling that a topic about the traffic jams, the latest models for telephones and the gain of popularity of new industries was of no interest to her. So the boy said his final words with a bitter smile, “I love you, always. I never stopped loving you.” He reminded her at the end of these talks, that he will always, always, love her.

His heart beats with tears at the memory that she was away, everyday. It continues to beat for her, and only her.

Nobody from his friend group can even remotely begin to become a replacement to Lyra Silvertongue, no matter how close Will was with them. Lyra will always be Lyra, his Lyra. Oh, help him, if she ever doubted him one day. He wouldn’t bear it.

Glancing back down his dæmon, Will chuckled and he raised his head back up as if he forgot to say something else to her. “Say hi to Pantalaimon for me.” He tells her. He couldn’t help but watch with a glimmer of a snicker how Kirjava’s eyes lit up at the mention of the pine marten’s name, she missed him too.

——————-

In another world, one that was very far away and exceptionally different from Will’s, there was a young adolescent that sat on the left side of the very same bench. She lowered a hand to lay beside her leg, her fingers clutching the wood loosely, as if she was holding onto something — onto someone else's hand.

Her name was Lyra Silvertongue, and beside her was Pantalaimon.

The two of them stayed silent, focusing on the chirps of songbirds and the wind bristled through her hair, carrying the fragrance of many different flowers that Lyra could barely tell apart. “Sunflowers, poppies and orchids.” She whispered with a small smile , loud enough for her friend to hear.

“Wrong. It’s roses, lilies and carnations.” corrected Pan, who sat at the head of the bench. His muzzle shoved a few strands of her hair away from her cheeks.

Lyra couldn't help but give an amused grin, “How do you know?” she asks her dæmon softly, her eyes shining — but still latched on to the deep sadness that has never left her heart since all gateways between worlds have closed forever.

There was still a hope in her, about the size of a candle’s light, that she would be able to cross worlds and see Will again one day. But as short summer mornings leave and long winter nights take over, the flame dies down, leaving her as cold as she was when she first arrived in the North.

Pantalaimon simply looked up at the milky blue skies, “I just do.” Lyra didn’t have the need to question her dæmon further, she trusted his word, she always will.

The two fell into a brief silence, taking the time to enjoy their surroundings. She was looking at thorned rose bushes and her heart felt a surge at the irony that those were the first plants she laid eyes on. She moves her head to look at flowers that matched with her hair locks, casting as golden in the sun’s light. Then, Lyra finally spoke, accompanied with a little laugh. She hid it with everything she could muster, but Pan knew all too well that it was a laugh of sorrow.

“It’s been two years since I last saw you in person,” the girl breathed out quietly, her tiny smile from the short laugh beginning to fall from her lips. She never stopped coming here, every year, during the summer at midday. “How have you been doing, Will?” She waited a few seconds, looking over to Pantalaimon, before she continued to speak once again, pretending that the boy replied to her.

“Oh, that’s good that you’ve been doing well!” Her lips twitched uneasily as she forced herself to beam cheerfully, pretending to have heard all about his endeavours, when really, she didn’t know about them at all — there was no one else on the bench aside from her. “I’ve begun attending St. Sophia’s, to study the alethiometer again.” She paused to swallow, thinking back on the lessons that her professors have given her, she tries to pay attention, she really does.

She had realized that Will probably didn’t know much about St. Sophia’s, after all, the education system and the structure of schools itself worked very differently in both worlds. She bit her tongue and looked over to Pantalaimon, waiting for a sign on whether she should explain herself further. The pine marten gives her a quiet nod and waits at her side.

“It was my mother’s alma mater when she was still alive. I’ve been told that I was just like her while studying in the grand library.” She tells the boy, who was sitting on the other side of her, “I don’t know whether I should be pleased with such comments. But at least, she isn’t all too bad…that’s what you told me, right? She kept me safe in that cavern two years ago.”

It wasn’t worth rambling about her parents anymore, she knew that they were both dead in the fight against Metatron. But she couldn't hide the initial look of shock and genuine sadness on her face when the alethiometer at the college finally gave her answers.

Lyra was left once again an orphan. Each time she caught herself thinking about Lord Asriel or Mrs. Coulter again, she tells Pan that she couldn't begin to fathom even the slightest idea of missing them.

It was a feeling that betrayed her heart several times when she found herself alone. She couldn't understand it even until now. She knew very little about them, most of the things she’s found out about them weren’t all that great. Not to mention, unlike Will, her parents were never there for her. So, why start missing them now?

The idea of living in a family was something that Lyra had been imagining ever since she was still under the care of the Master of Jordan College; she longed for loving parents who actually do love her and she wanted to be told that they were proud of her. The chances of that have long been washed away and Lyra couldn't help but feel a shallow jealousy whenever crossing the roads of Oxford and seeing children hand in hand with their parents.

She’s been so incredibly lonely here. Neither Lyra nor Pantalaimon wanted to reach that conclusion, but it was true, as much as it made them feel weak and pathetic deep down.

She picks her shoulders back up and continues to talk, changing the topic to focus on her studies instead. “It’s been difficult to understand the symbols all over again and sometimes I feel like I haven’t learned anything at all. But Dame Hannah’s been very supportive and she knows that I can do it. That’s why I haven’t given up. I know that you believe in me too, Will.” Her smile has returned on her face, she sees him smiling back at her — even being as bold as to place a hand on her shoulder, an imaginary touch that Lyra oh so wished was real.

“I love you so much, more than you could possibly know.” She mutters out in response to that, there was a sneaky tear that dared roll down her cheek. She doesn’t use her fingers to wipe it away. She wanted Will to know how much she loved him, she didn’t want him to ever doubt it. “Don’t forget me ever, I beg you. I will never forget you either, for as long as I live, you’ll be the only one for me..” her voice began to die down as the grief was beginning to take over her all over again. Her eyes darkened.

She lowered her head to her hands and they captured it in a loose hold. “Oh, Will, when will I ever see you again?” She whispered sadly.

In the quiet of the botanic gardens of Oxford, Pantalaimon could only lower his ears at the sound of his human’s soft sobs. And they sat there for another hour or so, cursing their cruel fate.

#rumiiprompts | writings #genre: his dark materials | categories #his dark materials #the amber spyglass #lyra silvertongue #will parry #lyra x will #silverparry

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masterofmunson · 3 years

Text

look after you (1)

TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam asks you to join him and Bucky on a mission in Madripoor. When you get injured, Bucky feels the need to remind you more than once that he’s supposed to look after you now that Steve’s gone.

Warnings: tfatws spoilers, language, violence, blood, grief, angst, major pining

Word Count: 6k+

Author’s Note: Here she is!! I’m really excited to see what you guys think! This is my first Bucky fic in AGES! I decided to make this into a mini series since this fic is so long haha. Please let me know what you think. Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

You hadn’t seen Sam or Bucky in several weeks. You were still adjusting to life post-blip. It had been a long five years for you and just seconds for them. You were no longer the bright-eyed and bushy tailed recruit. You’d grown into your position amongst the established and experienced Avengers. Now, it meant nothing.

Tony’s gone. Steve’s dead, Natasha too. The Avengers had officially disbanded. You felt lost and confused, still blinded by your grief over losing them. You had nowhere to go, so you just floated from place to place as needed.

You were laying low and a shell of the person you once were. You had no one to look towards anymore. Bucky went his separate ways and got some sort of footing in New York City with the pardon he was given by the government since his return to the states. You checked in every now and then with him, but you didn’t want to slow down his progress so you distanced yourself from him.

You know he feels some sort of responsibility towards you. Steve did too, and you suppose now that he’s gone, Bucky feels the need to take his place. It doesn’t matter that you’re no longer the naive 23 year old he met in Berlin all those years ago. It doesn’t matter that there was something lingering between the two of you before he turned to ash. You’re a grown woman now and war and politics has hardened your soul.

He needs to move on from you. The version he has of you in his head is gone, dead. He wants a fresh start, and you can’t give it to him.

Sam checks in with you once in a while. He asks you how you’re doing and you respond the same each time. “Same shit, different day,” you laughed lightly.

He knows better than to ask you to join him on his missions with the military. You’re not in the right headspace to return to the field, least of all if it meant that you were representing the US government wherever the fight was.

Now that John Walker has the shield and has been branded the new Captain America, it gives you all the more reason to stay away. If he had so much as just breathed in your direction, you’d kill him and rip the shield from his grasp and return it to Sam.

You ignored all emails and phone calls that had to do with John Walker. He wanted your blessing on live television, as if that meant anything. Yes, you were close with Steve, but you’re not an original Avenger. You just caught his eye during training one day and he took you under his wing. John Walker just wanted to create a bridge between the two of you since Sam and Bucky were obviously out of the question.

You were the first person Sam called when he told you he was giving up the shield. You didn’t ask why. You knew he had his reasons and you respected him to accept that whatever the reasons were, they were good enough.

So, when Sam called in the middle of the night, you picked up the phone without a second thought. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sit up and fumble for the light on the nightstand beside you.

“Sam? You do realize it’s three in the morning, right?” you asked, yawning into your phone.

Sam curses in your ear and apologizes quietly. “Sorry. You would think with all this traveling, I’d remember time zones are a thing,” he laughed softly.

“What is it, Sam?”

“We’re in a bit of a tight spot. We could use your help.”

Your brows pinch together. “Who’s we, Sam?”

“Me and Barnes.”

Your heart jumps inside your throat. How the hell did Sam manage to rope Bucky into whatever he’s doing? The last you heard, Bucky wasn’t allowed to go on government missions until his therapist thought he made enough progress to do so. You know he’s nowhere near the progress he wants to be, so how is he with Sam?

“Jesus, Sam. You know he’s not in the right headspace to go on missions!” There’s a heavy pause between the two of you before you relent. “Where am I meeting you?”

“Latvia. I’ll fill you in when you get here.”

You hang up quickly and hurry out of bed. After so many years of getting up at odd hours for emergency missions and the like, you’re not surprised that Sam asked you to meet him in the middle of the night. You grab your duffle bag and stuff all your belongings back inside. You travel lightly, and now it definitely seemed to work out in your favor.

You’ve spent the last couple of weeks in a small town just outside of Helena, Montana. It’s nice and quiet and you’ve really taken the time to reflect on your life since things started going back to normal post-blip. The locals are nice and hospitable, and no one asks you about Steve, Tony, or what you thought of John Walker. You hope it had something to do with the fact that they didn’t know who you were. You certainly hoped that was the case. You’ve kept your head down and tried your best to blend in.

You go hiking quite frequently and take drives through the mountains. It’s nice and relaxing, a far cry from what you’re used to. You’ll definitely miss it, and you have second thoughts about meeting up with Sam, but you push them away. Steve abandoned you both, and you wouldn’t do that to him.

It takes you several hours to get to the closest international airport and by the time you arrive, the sun begins to rise in the distance. You hurry through the airport security and send Sam a quick update that you’re about to board your flight before you settle in your seat and fall back asleep.

....

You sleep through the entire flight. You blame it on your ability to sleep anywhere due to the number of missions you have under your belt. You’re wide awake when the plane lands and you’re quick to pull out your phone and send a message to Sam that you’ve made it safe and sound to Latvia.

Your legs are stiff and sore when you stand up for the first time when it’s time to leave. You pull your duffle bag from the overhead compartment and slowly make your way to the front. It takes you nearly an hour to get through customs and now you’re just anxiously waiting to see Sam.

When you see him waiting for you at the baggage claim area, you grin as your eyes meet. You hurry over to him and drop your duffle bag to the floor as he pulls you in for a hug. It’s warm and tight and it’s exactly what you need. Sam pulls away first and reaches for your bag, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you walk out of the airport to his car.

You stop walking when you notice two figures near a very fancy yellow car as you and Sam near them. Sam keeps walking and you take slow, tentative steps. You know one of the figures has to be Bucky, but Sam never mentioned a third person.

“Sam, I thought you said that it was just you and Bucky,” you said cautiously.

Sam stops in his tracks and lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. It makes your heart race and you swallow the lump in your throat as they begin to come into focus as they near the two of you. “Y/n, before you get angry, I just need you to know that this wasn’t my idea. Believe me when I tell you that he is the last person we would ask for help,” Sam replied as his eyes went from you to the two people approaching.

“Who is he?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“Ah! Y/n, good to know that your flight went rather smoothly. It is good to see you again.”

No. There’s no way. You must be dreaming. Hemlut Zemo is not standing right in front of you. He is in prison. He is behind bars for the crimes he committed. The two men that you're closest to wouldn’t jailbreak someone as atrocious as Zemo. There has to be an explanation. It doesn’t make sense.

“What the fuck is Zemo doing out of prison?!” you hissed, looking between Bucky and Sam, demanding an explanation.

“Y/n, honey, I can explain, just please get in the car,” Bucky pleaded, reaching out to touch your hand.

You glare at him and take a step back. “Are you out of your mind, Bucky? You break him out of jail because you need him, is that it? Do you remember what he did to you, because I certainly do!”

Bucky frowns and lets out a deep and heavy sigh. He looks over at Sam. “Did you fill her in at all?”

“No!” you shouted. “I can speak for myself, James! Someone better start talking and tell me what the hell is going on!”

“We don’t really have time for this right now,” Zemo interrupts, “we really must be going. I’m sure Sam and James can fill you in in the car.”

You glare at the Sokovian terrorist and snap at him. “Shut your mouth, Zemo.”

He raises his hands up in surrender and takes a step back. Bucky towers over you and this time you let him take your hand. He squeezes it gently and pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You’re tense and fuming as he holds you.

His mouth finds the shell of your ear and despite the wave of anger flowing through your body, it sends a shiver down your spine. Bucky whispers, “I hate to say it, but Zemo’s right. We have to go. I’ll explain on the way, I promise.”

You huff childishly and turn your head away from him as he kisses your temple. “Fine. If he steps out of line, I’ll kill him.”

Bucky laughs and takes your hand and walks you to the car. “Get in line, honey. Sam and I have first dibs.”

You resist the urge to smile and Bucky opens the door for you as Sam tosses your bag in the trunk and climbs into the front seat. Bucky slides in beside you and he tells you everything.

He tells you about their first encounter with the Flag Smashers. He tells you about how the leader and a few of her followers have taken a newer version of the serum that runs through his veins. He tells you that she plans on giving the serum to more people to build an army and that you have to stop her.

It makes your heart stop. You hadn’t really been keeping tabs on the Flag Smashers. Now, looking back, you probably should have. There’s still a lot of unknown variables to account for and it looks like the boys are taking it one step at a time, and apparently it starts with a trip to Madripoor. Zemo chimes in every now and then as he drives and it makes your blood boil that you’re forced to listen to what he has to say. You hate that he has the upper hand and is keeping valuable information hostage. You want to strangle him.

After a while, Zemo pulls into a private airport. Bucky helps you out of the car and grabs your bag from the trunk as the four of you walk towards the jet just off the runway. You had no idea just how rich Zemo was. Now that he’s out of prison, for now at least, his arrogance returned back in full force in addition to his pompous attitude.

You board the plane in silence, ignoring every word coming out of the Baron’s mouth. You settle in the back of the plane and ignore Bucky’s stares as you look out the window. You’re too angry to engage in conversation. You don’t care that Zemo insults Steve’s legacy. He’s gone, dead, what do you care? Yes, you wanted Steve to be happy, but he abandoned you. He abandoned Sam and Bucky.

Zemo rambles on and on. “People like Steve become symbols, icons. Then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought,” he turns to address Bucky directly. “You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull?”

Silence fills the space and for a moment, you feel a reprieve. That was until Zemo mentioned the Winter Soldier.

“We can’t go into Madripoor as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You immediately stand up and protest, storming to the front of the plane. “No. Absolutely not. I won’t let you use Bucky, not again. There has to be another way.”

Zemo clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head. A smug graces his features and you lung at him, wrapping your hands around his throat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Bucky leaps to his feet and tears you off of Zemo, dragging you to the back of the plane behind the curtains to give the two of you an illusion of privacy. Your shoulders shake with rage and Bucky’s hands caress your face.

“You can’t be him. He’s not you anymore. You don’t have to do this, Bucky. Please,” you begged, clinging to his hands. “I can’t let Zemo control you again.”

Bucky’s touched with how protective you are over him. He pulls you closer and hugs you tightly against him. Your fingers grip the back of his shirt and he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Honey,” he whispered. “I have to. I have to do this so we can stop the Flag Smashers from getting the serum. It’s for the mission.”

You huffed against his chest. Now you’re really regretting your decision to help Sam. You would’ve said no if you had known that it meant watching Bucky turn into the Winter Soldier again, even if it wasn’t real.

You don’t know what to say. He won’t change his mind. Bucky’s just as stubborn as you are and he’ll do anything for the success of the mission, just like Steve did.

You pull away and return back to your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you stare into the back of Zemo’s plush leather seat. Bucky trails behind you and squeezes your shoulder. You shrug off his touch as he takes the empty seat next to yours.

“And, I’m afraid that where we’re going doesn’t take too kindly to women who are…. how do I put this…. strong willed,” Zemo said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bucky barked, jumping to your defense just moments after you did the same for him.

“Selby will see Y/n as competition. We can’t have that happen. She’ll have to stay behind.”

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m just going to just sit here and do nothing,” you snapped. “I’m coming with. I don’t care if I have to pretend to be meek.”

Zemo turns to look at you. He’s challenging you. You both know it. He’s pushing your buttons and it’s working. He smirks and leans against the armchair. His eyebrows raise and he asks, “Even if it means pretending to be a prostitute?”

Your gaze doesn’t falter and you ignore both Sam’s and Bucky’s protests. It falls on deaf ears. You don’t care, as long as you’re with Sam and Bucky and they’re safe. “Yes,” you answered without a second thought. You’ve done worse things than pretend to be a sex worker. It would be a piece of cake.

Zemo grins, letting out a soft laugh. “It looks like you’ll be joining us after all then, Y/n.”

You scoff at him and look out the window. Bucky drags you from your seat once more and pulls you behind the curtain. You look away from him and he reaches to squeeze your hand.

“You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove,” he whispered, brushing the top of your palm with his warm and calloused fingers.

“You don’t either,” you mumbled back.

He smiles softly at your retort and pulls you into his arms. He holds you gently and cards his fingers through your hair. You hum quietly as he holds you.

“Touché, honey.”

There’s a beat of silence between the two of you before you lean back to meet his gaze. His blue eyes pierce through yours and it makes your heart race. You pull away and rub your palms against your thighs.

You disappear behind the curtain once more, leaving Bucky behind.

…

When you arrive in Madripoor, you’re dressed in an outfit that leaves little to the imagination. The dress has a plunging neckline that settles just below your naval. Your chest is barely covered and your boobs threaten to slip over the fabric. You’re dressed for the part, that’s for sure.

Zemo is the first one to look at you when you return from behind the curtain. He whistles at you and it makes your skin crawl.

Bucky shoves Zemo harshly and grips his chest tightly, snarling in his face. “Watch your mouth,” Bucky hissed, shoving him into one of the chairs.

He turns to look at you and you reach to squeeze his hand. You pull him away from Zemo and whisper softly, “It’s alright, Buck. Take a deep breath.”

He grits his teeth and shakes his head, and does what you ask. “I’ll kill him. If he does that again, I’ll kill him.”

You laugh softly and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “I don’t doubt you will, Buck.”

The two of you trail behind Sam and Zemo as you leave the plane. A sleek black car is waiting just off the runway and you follow behind to the vehicle. When you settle into your spot in between Buck and Sam in the back, Zemo turns to look at the three of you.

“It’s imperative that we don’t break character, no matter what. If you do, we’re good as dead, understand?”

You scoff and roll your eyes as he looks towards you. “Crystal,” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest.

He turns to face the front of the vehicle and silence fills the car.

Suddenly, a number of motorcycles surround the car as you drive into Low Town. you make sure to keep your eyes forward and Bucky reaches for the hand on your knee. He squeezes it tightly and you do the same.

Reality is now just setting in for you. This is the first mission that you’ve been on since Steve went back to the 40s, and since Tony died. It had been three long months since Tony saved the world and brought everyone back that was taken five years earlier. You know that three months isn’t long, but it still makes you nervous. You haven’t been training to keep things from going rusty. You had no desire to.

Bucky leans into you, his mouth near the shell of your ear. “You okay?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah, just a bit nervous. I’m a little out of practice. This is my first mission since Steve left,” you mumbled back, squeezing his hand again to keep you grounded. He does the same in return.

“It’s alright. I have your back. I’ll protect you, promise.”

A small smile finds its way onto your face and you shake your head at him. “You know better than anyone else than to promise something like that before a mission, Buck. It’s bad luck,” you teased.

He laughs too and the car stops in what you guess is the downtown area of Low Town. You take a deep breath and Bucky does the same. You squeeze his hand one last time before his hand falls from your grasp. He opens the door and climbs out. You follow close behind and find your spot next to Sam. He gingerly wraps his arm around your waist as you walk into the Princess Bar.

Electronic music blasts through the speakers and the bass vibrates through your chest. You press against Sam as you push through people to get to the bar. The smell of drugs and alcohol is suffocating as you walk and ignore the stares sent your way. They’re not staring at you, but Bucky, who walks just a step behind you like a looming shadow.

“Ready to comply, Winter Soldier?” Zemo asked Bucky in Russian.

It makes your blood boil and Sam squeezes your waist tightly, a reminder that you must not break character. You hate it. You hate that Bucky has to pretend to be the person he’s worked so hard to distance himself from. Bucky is not him. The Winter Soldier doesn’t exist anymore. That part of him is gone, dead. You only hope that Bucky reminds himself that the Winter Soldier isn’t him anymore as he pretends just feet behind you.

You stand in front of the bar counter as the bartender approaches. You keep your mouth shut as Zemo exchanges words with the man, briefly bringing Sam, the Smiling Tiger, into the conversation. Your eyes find Bucky’s and your heart jumps inside your throat. His eyes are cold and void of any emotion. He’s stoic and brooding. He’s fallen into character perfectly and it scares you to think that all the progress he’s made over the years has been destroyed in this moment. For his sake, you hope not.

You tear your eyes away from Bucky at the feeling of Sam’s hand on the curve of your ass. You watch him carefully as he takes a shot. The bartender moves on and you let out a careful breath.

A man grasps at Zemo’s shoulder and sneers at him. He looks over at Bucky as Zemo asks to see Selby before he walks away. Another man approaches Zemo from behind and he speaks in Russian once more. “Winter Soldier, attack.”

You hold your breath in anticipation as the unsuspecting man rests his hand on Zemo’s shoulder. You want to reach out and touch Bucky, tell him that he doesn’t have to, that the two of you still have time to make a run for it, but you don’t. You can’t. Zemo would probably try and kill you if you interfere and it’s the last thing you need.

Bucky stalks over to him with two long strides, and rips the man’s hand from Zemo’s shoulder. He twists his wrist back and throws him to the ground. Another man swings at Bucky and he stops it with ease. He punches his back and kicks him against another crowny. As another man attempts to punch and kick at Bucky. He uses his metal arm and momentum to take each of them out.

“It doesn’t take much for him to fall back into form,” Zemo smirked, leaning over to look at you and Sam.

“Shut your mouth,” you hissed between your teeth as you watched Bucky.

Bucky grabs one of the men by the throat and slams him into the counter. Guns cock all around you as you look around the room. Your heart is inside your throat and there’s ringing in your ears. You reach to grab Bucky’s arm, but Sam beats you to it.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us,” Zemo whispered. “Well done, soldier.”

Sam lets go of his arm and takes a step back, pulling you with him. He squeezes your hip tightly as you watch Bucky’s grip fall from the man’s throat.

“Selby will see you now,” the bartender said.

Zemo moves to follow him and you resist the urge to reach out and touch Bucky. Sam pulls you along and you walk in silence down a number of hallways. The music fades into the background and you’re squeezing Sam’s hand like your life depends on it.

A number of men on Selby’s security detail whistle as you walk by. You bite your tongue and resist the urge to snap their necks. The four of you wait at the door at the end of the hall for several seconds before it opens. You walk inside and Zemo takes you from Sam’s side. Your jaw ticks as he guides you to the empty sofa. His hand settles on your thigh and you tense under his touch.

Zemo and Selby negotiate for information. All you need to know is who created the serum and where they are. That’s it. Zemo needs to stick to the plan.

Zemo stands up from his spot next to you. “Tell us what you know about the super soldier serum, and I give you him…. along with the code words to control him,” Zemo stands behind Bucky, his hand resting on his shoulder. He’s silent and obedient, the perfect encapsulation of who he had been for the last 80 years.

There wasn’t a discussion over what the offer would be when you were on the plane from Latvia. You just assumed Zemo would figure a way out of it, he was clever enough to do it before. You hadn’t thought that he would actually use the Winter Soldier to his benefit outside of protection. How naive of you.

Bucky’s eyes are dark and he stares straight ahead as Zemo caresses his chin. He doesn’t flinch or react. He’s playing the Winter Soldier perfectly and you hate every second. You bite the inside of your cheek so hard that you start to taste blood.

“He will do anything you want.”

Selby grins, leaning back in her spot on the couch opposite of you. She tells him what you need to know. She nears Sam and then the worst happens, his phone begins to ring.

She tells him to answer it and your fingers squeeze into the leather couch. Your heart races and for the first time since you walked into the bar, Bucky’s eyes find yours. You know he can see your panic.

Things are fine momentarily. Sam’s trying his best to stay in character and you know it’s not working as well as he’d like. You hold your breath and your panic settles in at the mention of Sam’s name coming from Sarah.

“Kill them—”

Your eyes widen in horror as a bullet pierces through the glass window in front of you and lodges into Selby’s throat, killing her instantly. The act is over.

You leap to your feet and pull the tactical knife that you hid in your dress out from underneath you. You slice the knife across your attacker’s arm. Bucky kicks him into the wall and grabs you by the arm.

You run as fast as you can out the bar and through the streets of Madripoor. You dodge bullets and fight off others that attack you with knives.

You do well, all things considered with what you’re dressed in. You dig your heel into the boot of your attacker, throwing them off balance. You kick their leg out from underneath them and Sam knocks them unconscious.

Bucky, of course, is doing just fine on his own. You run over to help. You disarm the man closer to you and use the butt of the gun to knock him out.

You barely have time to register the man creeping up behind Bucky. His arm is outstretched with a gun in his hand. Bucky has no clue.

“Bucky!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, running as fast as you can towards him.

He turns to look at you as you use your whole body to shove him aside as the gun goes off.

Time stands still.

You fall to the ground in a daze as the bullet rips through your shoulder. Your eyes stare up into the night sky as it takes you a moment to realize that you’d just been shot.

You try to sit up and get back on your feet. You don’t have time to worry about your wound. You need to get the hell out of Low Town.

Bucky nearly drags you off the ground and you run. You run as fast as you can despite the bullet in your shoulder.

“We need to get out of here!” Bucky shouted, inspecting your wound.

A shadowy figure approaches and Bucky blocks you from view. The hood drops and you peer over Bucky’s shoulder. You don’t have time to be surprised that Sharon is the one standing in front of you.

“Sharon? What are you doing here?” Sam asked.

“We don’t have time for that!” Bucky snapped. “Sharon, please. You gotta help us. Y/n’s been shot.”

She nods and motions for you to follow her. She stops in front of a beautiful blue car and Bucky guides you into the car, pressing his metal hand against your shoulder to stop the bleeding. You ignore Sam and Bucky’s bickering as they yell at you for getting shot. You don’t have the energy to respond.

Sharon races across town and pulls up to a very fancy building. Sharon jumps out and opens the door for Bucky. His arm holds your torso and your uninjured arm is thrown over his shoulder as you walk inside. You gather into the elevator as it takes you to the top floor.

Your entire body goes numb and Bucky guides you to the kitchen counter. Sharon briefly disappears before returning with a heavy duty first aid kit.

“Do you have tequila?” you asked her as Bucky rummaged through the bag for the correct supplies. Sharon laughs softly before grabbing a bottle of tequila from her liquor cabinet. You take a generous sip and the liquid burns your throat.

Bucky inspects the bullet wound carefully. Thankfully it was a through and through. He doesn’t have to fish the bullet out. He works quickly and you grit your teeth as he stitches the wound close on both sides of your shoulder.

The pain lessened to a dull throb now that he’s finished. He cleans the excess blood off your skin before gently placing your arm in a sling.

“Why did you do that, Y/n?” Bucky chastised you, shaking his head in disappointment. “I could’ve taken care of him.”

You scoff and roll your eyes at him. “I don’t even get a thank you for saving your ass? You were vulnerable, I did the right thing.”

He sighs and you look away. Your eyes find Sharon’s. “Can I borrow some clothes?”

She nods and disappears down the hall to her bedroom. Silence fills the room and Sam takes his turn to reprimand you. You ignore him entirely and take another large swig of tequila.

Sharon returns moments later with a pair of clean clothes. You thank her quietly and she points you in the direction of one of the guest bedrooms. You hop off the counter and ignore Bucky’s protests and calls of your name.

You huffed in frustration as you limped towards one of Sharon’s guest bedrooms. You had enough of Sam and Bucky yelling at you for your recklessness, especially Bucky. You’re exhausted and all you want to do is sleep.

You did what you thought was right. You did what Steve would’ve done. You had Bucky’s back. Isn’t that what mattered? Sure, you got shot in the shoulder, but it isn’t something you haven’t done before. You have the scars to prove it.

“Stop running away from me! We’re not done talking about this!” Bucky yelled after you, hot on your heels into the bedroom. “What were you thinking?”

You’re sick of Bucky questioning you. You’re not a child and you’re not the bright eyed recruit he thinks you still are. You did what was right in the heat of the moment. You don’t regret it. You’d do it all over again if it meant that he was safe.

“Stop treating me like a child, James! I’m not Steve’s recruit anymore! I’m a grown woman,” you shouted back at him. Your shoulders shake and you glare at him. “I know you still think I’m that naive 25 year old, but that’s not me anymore. The last five years may have been five seconds to you, but they weren’t to me. Accept the fact that I did what I thought was right.”

“It was reckless!”

“Steve would’ve done it!” you bit back.

“This isn’t about Steve!” he argued.

You laugh bitterly and shake your head. He doesn’t see it. He doesn’t see what you see. You know he sees you as his responsibility now that Steve’s gone. He feels an obligation to look after you because Steve did. You have a part of Steve with you. Bucky’s clinging to any last remains of Steve, and that includes you.

“Isn’t it though? You feel like you have a responsibility to protect me, to look after me. Why? It’s because Steve did and now that he’s gone, you feel like you have to replace him!”

The silence that fills the room suffocates you. Your heart races with anger. You want Bucky to leave you alone. You didn’t ask for this. Sam needed your help, and when you provided it, you got yelled at for it. Now you just want to go home.

You turn your back to Bucky and pull the pants that Sharon gave you up your legs before discarding the dress in the corner of the room. You don’t care if Bucky sees all the scars that litter your backside. Maybe then he would understand that you’ve always done what’s best for the mission, even if that meant getting hurt. You throw the sweatshirt over your head and turn to look at Bucky again.

“Do you have anything else to say to me? Are you going to try and deny it?”

Bucky sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re one of the only people I have left that have a connection to Steve.”

Another bitter laugh escapes your mouth. He doesn’t understand. “He abandoned me, James! He abandoned us. Steve’s gone. You can’t hold on to him anymore. You don’t have to do anything Steve did. You have nothing to prove to me, I promise. I don’t need you to replace Steve. I need you, Buck. You’re the one that’s here with me, not Steve.”

Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and you look away from him. The silence is deafening and Bucky moves to take you in his arms. He holds you against his chest and cards his fingers through your hair. You cry against his chest and cling to his henley. He gently guides you to the bed and sits down with you in his lap.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he whispered, rubbing your back. “You’re right. It just scared me. I don’t think I can handle losing you too. I’m sorry.”

You pull away to look at him with your tear stained cheeks and he carefully wipes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. You blink away the remaining tears and lean into his touch. “It’s okay, Buck. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

You rest your forehead against his and breathe him in. His metal hand rubs circles against your back and it sends shivers down your spine. He holds you carefully and no words are exchanged. Your eyes flicker to his lips and your heart thunders against your chest.

There’s a soft knock at the door and you pull your body off of Bucky’s. You sit beside him as Sam pokes his head inside the room. “Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between the two of you.

You look over at Bucky and then back to Sam. You smile and nod slowly. “Everything’s perfect, Sam.”

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #Bucky Barnes imagines #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #Bucky imagines #tfatws #tfatws x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #Sebastian stan imagines #sebastian x reader #sebastian imagine #my writing

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aurorablue22 · 3 years

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Scarface - Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: Somebody decides to mess with Moony.

(A/N): This can be interpreted as a platonic or romantic relationship between Remus and the reader, it hasn’t been specified! Also, as far as I know, I have created the names and characters of Michael Bershire and his crowd.

Warnings: violence, blood, mention of scars, heavy swearing. If you are sensitive to these things, please do not continue below the “keep reading” line.

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It was a typical Sunday night for Remus Lupin. As per usual, he had picked up prefect duties for this evening, and wandered throughout the corridors of the castle.

Midnight was fast approaching, and Remus paused for a moment. Due to him being a werewolf, his senses were amplified, meaning that one of his abilities was superb hearing.

Lupin cocked his head towards the dungeon staircase, where he heard a bit of commotion. He didn’t even have a moment to approach the noise before the cause was revealed.

Michael Bershire and his Slytherin gang.

Remus forced himself not to roll his eyes. Of course, they just had to be out while he was on prefect rounds.

It seemed that the five lads didn’t notice Remus until he cleared his throat. They quickly snapped their heads in his direction.

“Lupin, ol’ chap! What’re you doing out so late? Haven’t you got a book to read?” Michael Bershire held his head up high, an annoyingly perfect grin plastered on his face. His gelled auburn hair reflected so strongly the candlelight in the halls.

Remus had to refrain from rolling his eyes as Bershire took a few steps forward. “Gentlemen, it’s approaching midnight. I’ll have to ask you to return to your dormitories.”

“Oh and that we will do! It’s just, we’re a bit preoccupied at the moment. Isn’t that right, lads?” Bershire looked back at his companions, who nodded fervently.

Remus was taller than Bershire, but because of his horrible posture, they seemed to be on the same level. He bit back a grimace when Bershire’s painfully minty breath stung his eyes.

“Now if you’ll excuse us, we have business to attend to.” Bershire dramatically turned, his house robes swishing behind him.

“Well then,” Remus says, “I’m afraid I’ll have to report you to your head of house, and I don’t believe you’d want that to happen. So if you don’t mind-”

And just as dramatically, the Slytherin boy whipped around again.

“What was that, Scarface?”

Before Remus could even form words, Bershire was stalking towards him.

“How dare you speak to me in such an authoritative tone? After all, you’re... well you’ve got mud in your veins!”

“And blood on his face.” one of the boys behind him added. Remus recognized him to be Adam Percival, the greasiest boy he knew.

“You’re right Perce, he does have blood on his face. What, was ol’ Minnie upset you didn’t grade her papers for her? Or was it-”

“Shut it, Bershire.” Remus tried his best to compose himself, but couldn’t seem to look away from his shuffling feet. The full moon was only a few days ago, and he’d been left with a couple scrapes around his jaw and cheeks.

Michael Bershire was baffled. That is, until he came up with another one of his clever ideas.

“Boys, I’d say we teach Lupin a little lesson. After all, he should know - given his crowd - that snitches are frowned upon.” The 5 Slytherins slowly stalked towards Remus. “And you know what they say-”

“Snitches get stitches.”

It was then that Remus was swiftly grabbed by two of the boys, and his arms were held behind him as Bershire swung at his stomach. Once they’d decided he’d had enough, Remus’ arms were dropped and his knees buckled under their forceful kicks.

They pushed him onto the ground where they continued to harm him; kicking and hitting with all their might. It seemed like ages before they let up.

Slowly, they backed away, but not before Michael could kneel before Remus’ shaking form.

“Remember what I said, Lupin.”

And with that, he stood up and hurried away, while Remus was left alone in the dark corridor.

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

Sirius’ head perked up as Remus entered the common room portrait hole.

“Moony you’re back! Merlin we thought you got lost-”

“Where ya been, mate?” James cut him off. “We had to play three extra rounds of exploding snap waitin’ for you!”

Peter sat up from his position in front of the fireplace. “Alright Moony? You seem kinda quiet-”

“Good Godric Remus, you look awful!” Sirius shouted when Lupin faced them.

“Yeah, and I feel just as great.” he said, taking a seat on the worn out couch.

James came to sit on the armrest beside him. “What happened Moons?”

After Remus came to explain the series of events, the rest of the Marauders were fuming.

“Oh I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him!” Sirius shouted as he kicked over a coffee table.

“Sirius please, not now!” Remus groaned, covering his ears. “All I want right now, is to go to my room, and get a good night’s rest. Alright? I’ll deal with this bullshit in the morning.”

“Here, we’ll help you up.” James offered his arm, to which Remus took politely. Just as they were lifting the lycanthrope off the couch, they heard giggles coming from the staircase leading to the girls dormitories.

“Who’s there?” Peter whisper shouted, receiving a “You bloody idiot!” and a slap from Sirius.

“It’s just us!” Marlene whisper shouted back, as she, followed by you and Lily, entered the common room.

“What the hell are you doing up?”

“Nice to see you too, Black.” Marlene raised an eyebrow.

“If you really wanted to know, we were hungry, and figured the house elves might have some snacks for us. What’s your excuse?” Lily said, crossing her arms over her pajama top.

“Remus just got back from prefect duties, figured we would-”

“Sweet Merlin Remus, what happened to you?” you suddenly exclaimed, making Peter jump.

You rushed over to him, taking hold of his face, forcing him to look at you.

“It’s nothing (Y/N), really. My transformation was a little rough, that’s all-”

“Remus, your transformation was three days ago. What the bloody hell is all this?!”

“Bershire beat him up.” James confessed.

Remus turned to face Potter, shooting imaginary daggers at him.

“She was bound to find out anyway! Besides, look what he’s bloody done!”

“Michael Bershire did this to you? That bastard-”

Remus gently removed your hands from his face. “Listen, I appreciate your concern, but I really don’t want to deal with this right now. Can somebody please just help me to my room?”

The boys swooped in and half carried Remus to their dormitories, while you and your girls quietly said goodnight.

“Can you fucking believe that?!”

“Marlene, hush.”

“That fucking twat. Oh, I can’t wait to see what the boys have in store for him. I bet-”

“Marlene, please! Remus said he didn’t want to deal with this right now, so we’re dropping the subject. I say we go back to our rooms and get some rest.”

“But I’m hungry!”

“Swallow your spit. Now c’mon.” Lily ushered Marlene back up the stairs, before turning back and taking your hand.

“You alright, (Y/N/N)?” she gave you a knowing look.

“I’m with Marlene. I can’t wait to see what’s in store for him.”

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

Lily was the earliest riser in your dorm. That being said, she took it upon herself to wake the rest of you up in the morning. You’d had a half decent sleep, and as you rubbed your eyes awake, you heard the playful banter of Marlene and Alice.

“Marls, get a move on!! You know what we said about those Hollywood showers!”

“It’s Americano, Ally!”

“I don’t give a damn what it is! Get out!”

You and Lily were ready before the rest of the girls, so you walked arm in arm down to the Great Hall. It wasn’t until the Marauders sat at your table you recalled everything that happened last night.

“Alright (Y/N/N)? That vein in your forehead looks like its’ bout to burst.” Sirius said while grabbing a stack of pancakes.

“Do you have an bloody clue what you’re going to do about this?! Remus, you can’t let Bershire off this easy.” you turned your head towards your favorite (and slightly bruised) lycanthrope.

“I swear, I’m fine. And besides, the boys will work up something eventually.”

“Yea, eventually.” James exclaimed through forkfuls of food. “Moony made us promise to not even look at Bershire for a week!”

“A week?!”

James nodded enthusiastically, cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk.

“Since when do you defend bullies, Remus?!” you practically yelled, clenching the cutlery you were holding.

“It’s not that (Y/N), it’s just-”

“It’s because he’s afraid of him.” Peter blurted out, making everyone’s heads turn. His hands shot over his mouth in realization.

“Why is it the only time you open your mouth it’s to say something stupid?” Sirius said, hanging onto a glare.

“You’re afraid of Michael Bershire?! Remus that’s not healthy! That’s- that’s horrible! Sweet Merlin Rem, I’ll show him what to be afraid of-” Remus cut you off.

“I’ve told you already, please don’t make me repeat myself again.” Remus placed his hand over yours. “The boys will handle this eventually. If you really love me, stay out of it.”

You settled down then, but still scanned the Hall for any signs of Remus’ attacker. The rest of breakfast carried on as usual, the rest of your friends joining you for the meal.

Sirius walked you and Mary to class, giving you each a courteous bow.

“Shall I pick you up after your lesson, my fair ladies?” he said in a deep bow, with a rigid posh accent. “The gentlemen and I were planning on.. err.. skipping our courses.”

You giggled at Sirius’ poor attempt of finding a replacement word for “skip”.

“Yeah, why not. See ya then, Black!” Mary turned towards the door.

“I bid you farewell my lovelies!” he then proceeded to bound down the hallway to Astronomy, which was on the complete opposite side of the castle.

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

Your class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, passed fairly quickly. And just as he had promised, Sirius came to pick you up, now with James and Marlene in tow.

Marlene beamed at the sight of you and Mary.

“Thank Godric you’re here! I was getting tired of these two.”

James gave her a light shove. “We’ll be meeting Moony and Wormtail towards the east end.”

“Couldn’t convince Lily to come along?”

James looked like he was about to protest, but sighed in defeat. You and your friends continued down the corridor, eventually meeting Remus and Peter after their rigorous Astronomy note-taking. You soon found yourself squished between James and Remus, marching down the main hallway.

“Hey, I thought we were sticking to the east end?”

“Silly (Y/N), we were meeting in the east end.” Sirius explained, as if he were speaking to a child. “Now, we’re on our way to the west end.”

“Ah right, and it makes perfect sense to take the busiest corridor in the school.” Mary quipped, and Marlene giggled.

The walk was pleasant, and filled with greetings from fellow classmates. Every now and then, James and Sirius would snicker about something, or mutter jokes to the group. It was then, that you saw him.

Michael Bershire, proud and tall, lead his pack of nuisances opposite you down the bright hallway. Most students ducked out of the way to avoid him, and a few first years were visibly shaking at the sight of him.

Your vision went red as you locked eyes on your target. It was time.

“James,” you slipped your bag off and passed it to your left, “mind holding this f’me?”

“Uh, yeah su- (Y/N)!!”

In the blink of an eye, you had left your friends’ sides and found yourself hurtling towards Bershire. Although you were smaller than him, the sheer impact of your collision with him knocked the two of you off your feet. You landed on top on him.

He knocked his head off the stone floor, and for a moment you thought he’d lost consciousness. But the bewildered look in his eyes told you otherwise. It was now or never.

“YOU BLOODY BASTARD!” you screamed, letting hell rain down on Michael Bershire. You swung left and right, pummeling his once perfectly sculpted face. You could feel the bruises forming on your knuckles already. “HOW DARE YOU TOUCH REMUS LUPIN?! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, YOU BLITHERING FUCK!”

Somehow, Bershire had managed to wrap his legs around your waist, pulling you towards him and flipping your bodies so that you were beneath him. He pinned your wrists beside your head, and you felt the concrete sting your hands.

‘No, how dare you, you muddy little bitch?!”

And that’s what set you off. You produced a sound that could only be described as a battle cry, and flung your forehead up and into his. Distracted by the headbutt, Bershire’s tense core loosened the slightest bit. It was enough for you crunch up and bring your knees into his groin, causing him to cry out in pain.

Using his own momentum against him, you successfully flipped around again, resuming your position above his quivering form. Your hands found themselves around his throat, and without realizing it, you were bashing his head in the ground.

thunk, thunk, thunk.

It was only Professor McGonagall’s shrill cry of fear that brought you back to reality.

“MISS (L/N), GET OFF OF THAT BOY!”

You felt strong hands wrap around your arms and shoulders, whipping around to see that it was the four Marauders pulling you away from Bershire. The Slytherin gang was dragging said boy’s writhing and groaning form onto a cot from the hospital wing.

You only stopped your kicking and resistance when McGonagall approached you, pointing her finger in your face, looking more angry than you’d ever seen her.

“My office. Now.” she spoke, in such a tone that visible shivers went down your spine. The boys had yet to let go of your arms, and half carried you down the hallway of gawking and goggling students.

Once arriving to her office, McGonagall stood in the doorway. She looked expectant and impatient all wrapped into one. You were finally let go of, and slowly turned to the four boys behind you.

James and Peter still looked a bit shocked, and you found little comfort in the proud look Sirius was trying to hide. But Remus’ face is what hurt you the most.

“Rem, I-” you croaked. He wouldn’t even look at you. “I’m so sorry, I don’t-”

McGonagall cleared her throat bitterly behind you, cutting you off. You whispered another, barely audible “I’m sorry”, before following the Professor into her office.

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

Hello my lovelies!! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. Let me know if I should follow up with this fic!

Also, a reminder that requests are open!! <3

~Aurora

#Remus Lupin #Young!Remus Lupin #Young!Marauders #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #young remus x reader #young remus x y/n #young remus imagine #marauders x reader #marauders era

229 notes · View notes

missinghan · 3 years

Text

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

402 notes · View notes

writtenonreceipts · 3 years

Note

a prompt?

single parent trope for feysand, pretty please?

more prompts for this would be great, otherwise you get my rambling mind and we all know how that goes...

Find my main masterlist here

An Intimate Display of Insecurities and Hopelessness

The air-conditioning was out. Again. And Feyre had already stripped down to a tank-top and shorts. The heat was miserable.

“Sweet mercy,” she muttered as she stood in front of the large fan she’d bought yesterday to try and keep things cool. It wasn’t working.

Feyre brushed her hair from her sweaty brow and bit back a curse. This day was not going at all the way she’d wanted it to. It had taken her far to long to get anything started, not to mention coordinating with Elain on how she wanted to participate in the shop.

It was only three days to her deadline to get her shop up and running. Three days to get pallets made, canvases designed, and interior design finished. All in one-hundred-degree weather and boob sweat.

She turned back to the mess of her shop. This was going to take more work than she had time for. Or sanity.

The front door opened behind her with a clatter. Feyre wasn’t that concerned about it, knowing she was getting some things delivered.

“Just leave the deliveries on the floor,” she said, not looking back. She was trying to have a vision of what she was going to accomplish, a vision that would be epic and glorious.

“Excuse me?”

Feyre spun at the smooth voice and nearly stumbled. The most attractive man she’d ever seen was standing in her shop. His black pants were crisp and cleanly lined and his black shirt was rolled up to the elbows, displaying his tanned skin. He was tall, lean, and with his black hair swept neatly back.

Feyre felt sweat roll between her breasts. Oh hell.

“Feyre Archeron?” He asked and took a step forward while holding out his hand. “Rhysand Avitas. I’m the new building manager.”

A dozen curses ran through her head as she did her best to wipe her sweaty hand on her shorts inconspicuously. Because of course she knew who Rhysand Avitas was. Everyone in their small town did. He was the son of the police chief and now the youngest elected mayor in Valeris history.

He had also been just a year ahead of Feyre in school. So she knew the kind of person her was. At least, she thought she did.

“Rhysand, of course,” she said as she took his hand. The heat didn’t seem to effecting him. Jackass. “Sorry, I guess I lost track of time.”

Indeed, it was half-past two right when she’d told his assistant that he could come by the shop. And see that everything was in order for her opening deadline. Except she hadn’t really expected him to show up.

“Not a problem.” He smiled in such a charming way that Feyre found herself wanting to hate him.

But Feyre already did hate him. He had bought the building just two days after her father’s death. Just two days after the building was up for sale. She hadn’t even had the time to get funds together to convince the bank that she could buy the lease herself. Now, she was going to have to open her shop under him.

In school he had been captain of the football team, president of the ASB club. He had been the kind of person Feyre had never wanted to interact with. High and mighty, proud and cruel. He’d worn a mask of indifference to anyone beneath him, she was convinced.

Feyre cleared her throat. “Things are a little messy right now, but it’ll be ready for opening day on Monday.”

Rhysand nodded as he walked around the shop. Bits of wood crunched under his too fancy shoes and dust clung to his pants when he brushed up against one of the pallets that Feyre was still trying to decide how to convert into a display case.

“You’re a painter, correct?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder at her and Feyre was taken aback by his eyes. Bright blue—so bright that she could have sworn they were violet. And damn her if she didn’t want to at least try and draw them.

“Yes,” she replied. “My sister does some gardening and does floral arrangements and I’m planning on having her sell some of her work here as well.”

“I remember,” he said, “Mrs. Ellis always made sure all of her classes knew about her protegee.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. The high school art teacher had been someone no one really liked. Aside from her. Maybe it was just because Feyre had wanted someone to pay attention to her, but the woman had always been nice to Feyre.

“My work wasn’t that good back then,” she said. And it was true, it had taken years of study and experimentation to get to where she was now. Ten years after those miserable high school years and here she was, finally maybe a little bit confident with what she could do.

Rhysand said nothing, only observed. “And you’re sure you’ll be ready by Monday? No offense Miss Archeron, but it seems like a lot needs to be taken care of. You assured the bank, and my assistant, that your shop was worth allowing in the complex.”

Feyre’s mouth pursed as she watched his man before her. With his impeccable clothing, that silver watch on his wrist, it was hard to imagine that he’d had any hardships in his life.

“Yes, and I keep my word,” she said, her voice cold enough to rival any a/c. “What I would like to know is why the air conditioning still isn’t fixed. It’s been this way for a week now.”

“It’s being looked into,” Rhysand said.

His gaze turned sharp as he looked her over again. Something passed over his face that Feyre didn’t care to try and understand. She just wanted this man out of her shop so she could get back to work.

“Was there something in specific that you wanted to discuss?” she asked, “or were just interested in questioning my ability to run a shop?”

He smirked at her and shook his head. “You always did have that fire in you, didn’t you?”

Feyre was ready to tell him to get out when a soft cry caught her attention. She held up a finger to silence him as she listened. Maybe she’d imagined it. Hell, she hoped he’d imagined it. Unfortunately the cry came again.

“Just a minute,” she said.

She hurried to the back of the shop where a door led into what would be used for the breakroom. It was a few degrees cooler back there, which was why she’d set it up for it’s current use.

Sitting up in the pack-and-play was her daughter. Seren with her golden hair and large blue eyes looked up at her and cried again.

“Momma!”

Immediately, Feyre scooped her daughter up. Seren latched on with a snake-like grip. Her arms wound around Feyre’s neck tightly.

“Hi baby,” Feyre murmured. “Why are you awake?”

It had only been a half hour since Feyre’d put her down, she’d been hoping for at least one hour of uninterrupted work.

Seren said nothing and only whimpered into Feyre’s neck. As Feyre whispered to her daughter to sooth her, she went back out into the main part of the store to find the diaper bag she’d packed that morning. In one of the insulated pockets, she found a bottle of apple juice.

“Here, honey,” Feyre said. Seren snatched the bottle and began drinking, tears still rolling down her cheeks. “Okay, there we go. Momma need to talk to Mr. Avitas okay, can you let me do that?”

Seren nodded and the almost two-year-old tucked herself right against Feyre’s neck.

Pressing a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, Feyre turned back to Rhysand who stood right where she’d left him. The hard look in his eyes was gone and whatever hard-ass talk he was no doubt going to deliver evaporated.

“It seems I was wrong,” Rhysand said, “you do have some help, don’t you?”

Seren wiggled in Feyre’s arms to get a better look at the man, her bottle sticking in one cheek.

“Momma,” Seren said, her voice just slightly muffled.

“Yes, you are my big helper,” Feyre agreed, “even when you get into my paints.”

Seren beamed up at her. “I help.”

Feyre snorted a bit of laughter. Help. Sure. There were some painted handprints on the wall that aid otherwise.

“Did you have any other concerns you needed to address, Mr. Avitas?” Feyre asked.

He seemed so taken aback that Feyre had had her daughter in the back room napping that it took him a moment to speak again. It would have been amusing if the man hadn’t been so annoying to begin with.

“She looks just like you,” Rhysand said.

That was the last thing Feyre’d expected. She quirked a brow at the man. She knew it was true. Seren, thank the heavens, looked like an Archeron. There was barely a trace of her father. Something Feyre would give thanks for every day.

Feyre heart gave a painful squeeze. Of course that was what he meant.

She met his gaze, holding it for a long moment. Her hold on Seren tightened automatically, something she always did when she remembered her baby’s father.

“Yes, she does,” she whispered. Feyre wondered what Rhysand could possibly know. When she’d moved back to Valeris two years ago, just after she’d found out she was pregnant, she scrubbed her life clean of that man. Rhysand couldn’t possibly know who the father was. Even if he did, he shouldn��t care.

“Right,” he muttered and ran a hand through his hair. Once again, an un definable look flashed over his features, and disappeared just as quickly. “I’ll see what I can do about the air-conditioning.”

“Good,” Feyre said, “I’d hate to have to delay opening.”

And much to her surprise, Rhysand laughed. “Of course not. That would be rather inconvenient, wouldn’t it?”

He turned back to the door and looked as though he would leave without saying anything else, until he paused. He seemed to be having an internal dilemma when he looked back to Feyre.

“If there is anything I can help with, let me know.”

The words were halting and careful. Feyre wasn’t sure how to read them, how to respond. So she only nodded.

i wanted to add more to this for the first part, but well here we are...

tags

@aelinchocolatelover // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @bamchickawowow // @ireallyshouldsleeprn // @courtofjurdan // @sassys-world // @sleeping-and-books // @superspiritfestival // @chieflemming // @julemmaes // @lysandra-ghost-leopard // @firestarsandseneschals // @emikadreams // @rapunzel1523 // @booksofthemoon // @highladysith // @fangirlprincess09 // @rowaelinismyotp // @vanzetanze // @jlinez // @cassianscool // @stardelia // @my-fan-side // @sjmships // @tillyrubes10 // @acourtofsjmtrash // @hellasblessed // @rhysandswhore // @story-scribbler // @post-it-notes33 // @live-the-fangirl-life // @strangevil321 // @whythefuckdoiexist // @pastasiren // @beanco8 // @lemonade-coolattas @foreverfallingforthestars // @surielandiareendgame // @feysand-loml

#feysand #feysand au #single parent au #acotar fics #acotar au #acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre archeron #rhysand

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skiyoosmi · 3 years

Text

if fate permits

⤷ chapter twenty three: seesaw

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Eerie. If there was one word to describe your current situation with Atsumu, that would exactly be the perfect term for it. As you sat across one another in a booth in a restaurant that Osamu apparently found for him (he says it’s the “best place” for the both of you to properly make up, you called it the “Osamu utters another bullshit” place), you find yourself unequipped of words to tell him, something you found odd considering you never had any dull or awkward moment with him. Well, at least not until our feelings got in the way, you thought, letting out a quiet sigh as you poked your food with the fork, completely aware of the stare that the blonde holds on you.

He fidgets in his seat, opening and closing his mouth as he tries to form his words because what else can he say aside from apologies (that he thinks are probably useless given that right after saying sorry, he finds another way to hurt you)? He doesn’t really have any other choice though so he takes a deep breath and begins his sentence, “YN, I’m really so-”

“Don’t even think about finishing that sentence or I might just stab you with this,” you cut him off, waving the fork you were holding in his face, snickering at his wide eyes that was accompanied by a large gulp. You put it down and place your chin on your hand, leaning your head towards it as you stared him down (more like glare, in his perspective), “Just wanna let you know, this will be the last apology I’ll ever get and accept.”

Observing the confusion that became more and more evident in his face, you continue, “Because if you hurt me one more time, then that’s it. I’m really gonna cut off my ties with you because that just proves to me that everything about this,” you gesture towards you and him, “is not meant to be… as friends.”

Not even as soulmates. In a pathetic attempt to make everything seem like it’s fine, you grab the glass that was right by your arm; the harsh flow of cold water down your throat is not even close to beating the suffocation of the truth that dawned upon you. How ironic - everything is just a cycle that keeps on repeating over and over again yet for some reason, the agony remains all the same. It never gets less and if anything, becomes more to the point that it just torments you every single moment of your breath. Always so pathetic, YN, always.

“YN…” he trails off but you hold your hand up, letting him know that you were not yet finished.

“So, make sure that this is the last. You know we both deserve so much more than a friendship that keeps on pulling and pushing us. We weren’t like this before, Atsumu,” you state as a matter of fact, sadly smiling as he bowed his head down, “what happened to us?”

Deep down, you already knew the answer to your question. No matter how much you wanted to deny it, deny her entire existence, you can’t. Because that would mean denying Atsumu and the happiness he desires. Yet at the same time, you just can’t let go of him.

“Yui happened,” he whispers, “I just… it’s inexcusable, the way I kept on pushing ya aside and hurting ya because of her… but I just… I thought she was her yanno? For as long as I can remember, I’ve always wanted to meet my soulmate and Yui was just so bright and nice and I guess I got this hope in me that maybe she’s her… but she wasn’t and it’s so frustrating.”

The disappointment and sadness in his face squeezed your heart that thumped against your chest, the longingness that had always resided within you struggling to get out and give him a hug. As he spilled his heart out to you, you couldn’t help the guilt that began spreading in your mind, he wasn’t the coward; you were.

“It feels so frustrating to be so clueless every single time. I guess that’s why I took it out on ya, because I felt somewhat jealous that ya can see the threads and I can’t and for the rest of my life, I’ll be lost, wondering who my true soulmate is. And the fact that yer leaving me soon too… everything’s just so messy inside me, yanno? So I’m sorry for that, YN. I’m not excusing myself from the pain nor am I dismissing yer feelings but I hope ya understand where I’m coming from too,” he quietly speaks, fiddling with his fingers.

“Atsumu… I-”

“I said that but YN, I think I’m done waiting for my soulmate. I… I don’t want to seem selfish but… it has been too long of waiting… I’ve always tried to find them myself even though I don’t have abilities like yours. Thinking about it now, maybe they just don’t want to be found? Because if they did know me, wouldn’t they have told me right at the moment they met me? So, can’t you just cut off my thread please?”

And right at that moment, you felt your heart plummet down to the deepest and darkest abyss of your insides. He’s given up and you still can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth. I don’t want to give you up, please, not yet… You want to beg him; to just give you a little bit more time, a little bit more courage, a little bit more attention in hopes that he’ll see. Please, just look at me, look at me and you’ll find what you’ve been looking for, Tsum.

But the desperation in his face reels you back to the reality that he doesn’t want you; he wants some other girl, someone who can never be you and you find your heart being engulfed with bitterness so you scoff and stand up, “This bullshit again? You’re making me lose my appetite and I am not about to have this conversation with you, Miya Atsumu. ”

He gapes at you, obviously surprised with the sudden change of mood. It was already going good a while ago but perhaps, it was the calm before the storm, ready to ruin the both of you, “YN! Wait up! Stop! Come back here!”

He’s able to grab your wrist as soon as you get out of the restaurant, “Hey! Come on, I’m pretty sure the aftermath wouldn’t be that bad! Ya don’t need to be so uptight,” he pants. He never knew you can run that fast. But that’s totally not important at the moment because he can literally see steam coming out of your ears as you took a deep breath and turned around, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“Uptight?! I’m in no way being uptight right now, Miya Atsumu! What you’re asking is… is dumb… outrageous… or nonsensical… AND dangerous!” you screamed, stuttering out of disbelief as the lad only looked at you with amusement. He chuckled; as much as he didn’t want to, he found your little tantrum cute. Your head whipped once again to his direction upon hearing his laugh, “you’re laughing?! Do you think asking me to cut off your thread is funny? You’re fucking ridiculous! Do you even know the consequences? Do you have no care for your soulmate?”

The grin leaves his face as he watches your eyes start to slowly but surely well up with tears, “Did you invite me just for this? Is this all you think our friendship is for? Jokes? Or the fact that I’m a fucking Moira who can fix your soulmate issues? I’m supposed to be your best friend before anything else, am I not?”

“Wait, no, YN… you know that’s not-”

“Because if you do think that way, you wouldn’t have thought about this in the first place because you’d know how much I despise cutting someone’s thread - have you even tried to think of what your soulmate will think? What would happen if she finds her thread cut off? You think she’d laugh too? She’ll just wake up one day with her thread being black, not even knowing what hap-”

“But she’s not here!” he screams, head down before he looked up, rage swimming in his eyes that even up to now, you still love, “She’s not here. And you’ve never even tried helping me find her so what makes you think you have a say on whether or not I should give up on meeting her? I’ve always asked for your help, didn’t I? But what? Every single fucking time, you reject the idea of me meeting her like it’s a plaque that will kill you.”

That’s because she’s always been here, I’ve always been here, idiot… is what you want to say but the painful truth of his words stopped you from retaliating further.

“She can find a new soulmate too! Y/N… please, I’m 100% serious about wanting to do this,” by now, any joke and teasing were gone from his voice as he begged the girl in front of him. But you were even more stubborn than him so you shook your head and crossed your arms, remaining firm on your stand.

“No. Stop being selfish, Tsum. It’s not always about your ‘needs’ and ‘wants.’ Breaking the bond… is something we mustn’t do, as much as possible. You don’t want to do anything you’ll regret; I won’t let you,” you whispered, clutching sides of your skirt. Atsumu didn’t know what happened to him after that or why he stupidly chose to open his mouth again.

“You’re the one who’s being a selfish bitch, Y/N. Just because ya can’t find your soulmate and yer happiness, doesn’t mean we can’t too. You’re so needy that you can’t let us be happy without ya. I wonder what the gods thought when they gave you that power? Stupid gods, they can’t even do one thing right; giving it to a coward and a selfish bitch who can’t even cut her best friend’s thread for the sake of his happiness…” it was the crestfallen look plastered on your face that made him stop as soon as he saw it. Realization dawned upon him and immediately, he tried reaching out to you with his hand.

Ah, I give up.

“It’s okay…” you choked, pulling back from him and taking a deep breath, no longer giving any effort to stop the tears that now freely flowed down your cheeks, “I understand. I’m sorry that I care for you then.”

He opens his mouth, ready to say yet another apology but he knows… he knows it was futile now. He watches you as you hastily wipe your cheeks from any tear stain but they kept on coming so you felt yourself get frustrated even more. Stop being so pathetic for once, YN, for god’s sake!

“You know, Atsumu? I always feel like we’re in a seesaw that just never stays balanced. It’s either one of us is on the top while the other’s down and it just… gets so fucking tiring trying to understand you.” You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you finally felt the courage within you. It’s a little bit late for it to come, isn’t it?

“You want to know why I never told you about my soulmate’ Because I’ve found him a long fucking time ago. But he can’t even be honest to himself that he at least feels something for me. He chooses to be blind with all the possibilities we could have if he just chooses to cross the line, even for just a little bit… right? Cause be fucking honest, Atsumu, it doesn’t even matter if I told you or not. Either way, you’re never gonna love me the same way I’ve always loved you. It’s quite funny, honestly, I’ve never told you because I wanted you to love me, not because I’m your soulmate but because I was YN. But I never expected that it would be the very reason why I can’t have you… because I’m just YN.” You let out what seems like a laugh but the waver in your voice failed to deliver that.

“... So don’t tell me I’m needy and selfish because if I were, I would’ve told you the moment I met you that it was you. But I didn’t want to lose you, so I thought it was okay. I can deal with the pain if it meant I can keep you beside me and not risk anything…” you trail off, “... but I’m just… I’m done pretending I can keep being on this playground with you.”

You took out the red scissors that you’ve loathed so much, nearing it to your threads as he stayed still in disbelief of everything that has been revealed to him seconds ago, “I love you, Tsum..... I only wish for you to be happy so… don’t ever regret this, okay?”

Atsumu looks at you and at that moment, he just knows… that for the rest of his life, he’ll remember the broken smile you gave him as you finally cut the thread that has connected you to him for the past years.

Don’t regret anything, Tsum…

“Because I won’t.”

I won’t even remember a single thing about you.

note. ah… at last we have come to the beginning of the end. two words from me to you: i’m sorry.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu x reader #atsumu smau #iwaizumi smau #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu angst #atsumu headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyuu writings

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - Land of Thieves #ChapterOne

Western/ Red Dead Redemption AU / Slow Burn / childhood best friends to lovers

Gif is not mine.

Read on AO3 (English Version)

Ler no AO3 / “Terra de Ladrões” (Versão Português)

Chapter warnings: explicit language, explicit violence.

Word count for this chapter: 4002K

Summary: When you were a child, you swore that no matter how high the reward in your head, she could always count on you. Life as an outlaw in the west is not easy, but you believe that train robberies are still easier than asking a pretty girl to dance. Land of Thieves, also know as your love story with Wanda Maximoff in the Wild West.

Pt.1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3 || Pt.4 || Pt.5 || Pt.6 || Pt.7 || Pt.8 || Pt.9 || Pt.10 || Pt.11

You were covered in mud and blood when you entered the saloon. Curious and judgmental eyes turned to you, but you didn't stare back. Stretching your back, you felt your whole body ache; the recent beating was sure to leave marks. Walking over to the counter, you threw three gold coins onto the wood, muttering in a mumbled tone "bath" to the saloon keeper. He nodded slightly, showing you the way to the restrooms. As you washed up, you grumbled against the recent cuts, but you were happy to know that you hadn't been shot. Your body ached, but without bullet wounds, you would be better in no time. A pretty girl who worked in the saloon smiled at you when she took your muddy clothes to wash them, and you looked away blushing helplessly. She handed you new clothes before she left. When you finished your shower, you put on the white silk shirt, and beat-up jeans that were handed to you. The boots were not new, but they were comfortable. You also put on spurs, but they didn't give you suspenders, so you left the shirt loose against your body, enjoying the lightness. Attaching your holstered belt to your waist, you checked to be sure your Schofield revolver was clean and locked before you holstered it. You walked to the top floor of the saloon, ignoring the curious glances cast at you on the way. You hoped that no one would recognize you from the reward posters, but you weren't so sure about that, since your face was quite exposed without your hat, which must now be somewhere lost in the middle of New Elizabeth, or on some thief's head. Whistling softly, you walked to the saloon balcony, watching the town below. Valentine is a ranching town, small and not very crowded. Lots of pedestrians, you observe. You light a cigarette as you watch the citizens go about their mundane lives, many opportunities passing before your eyes. You let your gaze wander to the town bank, a few meters ahead on the right of the saloon. You notice that security is low. Making mental notes about everything you could observe from there, you put out your cigarette, returning to the lower part of the saloon, toward the counter. - A whiskey and a beef stew. - You grumble, handing the bartender some coins. He nods in agreement and in a few minutes you get your meal. While you are sitting at the farthest table in the room, you listen attentively to the conversation of two men at the poker table, who have caught your attention. - My cousin saw the carriages in Saint Denis. Four horses in each, and he said that the riders were armed to the teeth." - The skinny man commented excitedly, his friend didn't look so happy. - Those damned bankers are like pests of the soil. You saw what happened to that southern town, I think it was called White Gate. - commented the man with the mustache, his expression frowning. - After the oil ran out, everybody lost their jobs. Stark closed the mine and the citizens began to starve. Almost everyone moved to the neighboring towns. Stark. The name was not strange to you, but you could not tell exactly where you had heard it before. You finished your stew, deciding that Steve would want to know about both the bank and the possible rich men who were visiting the town. Finishing your whiskey in one gulp, you stood up, leaving the saloon just as you collected your freshly washed clothes from the same woman who had brought them. It was hot and humid outside. Knight, your Hungarian half-breed horse, grunted with delight when you stroked his mane. You smiled at him before you mounted. You rode south, figuring you would have no trouble finding the new camp site, and trying to remember Bucky's instructions about where exactly they were. It took some time, but you finally found the camp. You dismounted Knight as you entered the area between the trees, walking calmly to the largest tent. Steve Rogers was like a father to you. When your birth parents died of cholera, you ran away from the orphanage the government put you in, and started living on the streets. You were only seven years old, but you were smart enough to hide in one of the garbage carts when the nuns weren't looking, and you ran away because you couldn't stand being beaten by the older children and your own teachers. You ended up somewhere in West Elizabeth, and while trying to steal some food, you were chased by two officers. But just as they were about to catch up with you, someone knocked them out. You smiled when Steve held out a big piece of bread and water to you. From that moment on, you lived with him. The Avengers gang became your family. Steve took care of you, and trained you as an outlaw. You learned everything that was essential to survive in the Wild West, from hunting to murder. And as the years passed, other people joined the gang, and you accepted them all as your family. When Steve saw you, he smiled tenderly, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief as he motioned for you to enter the tent. - So, kiddo, what did you find out in Valentine? - asked the man as you sat down in the opposite position, on a wooden chair. - They have a poorly protected bank. - You shrugged. - But you know how these small towns are, the risk is almost always not worth the gain. - That's too bad, we need money. Especially to buy medicine. You let out a low exclamation of agreement, you knew exactly how difficult the situation was. It had been a particularly difficult season for the gang. With Fury's death at the last service, and the move out of town to get away from the officers, you were still facing a wave of illness. Carol and Bruce had been feverish and bedridden for days, and Thor had been shot during an unsuccessful robbery. - I overheard an interesting conversation, though. - You say, and Steve looks at you curiously. - Some rich people are coming to Valentine in a few days. The name Stark was mentioned, have you ever heard of it? Steve's eyes widen in surprise and excitement. - Of course I have! - he exclaims. - Filthy rich folks there! Rich enough to lend us a little money without even noticing. - I think Stark is going to buy the oil mines at Heartlands. And he's staying in Valentine while he does the negotiations. - That's excellent. - Steve says, running his hand along his chin in a thoughtful expression. - If the deposit is made in Valentine, we will have the purchase money first hand. You nodded. - But even if the deposit is made here, the money is sure to be transferred to Saint Denis. - You retort, trying to think of all the details of the scam. - Which means that we have to steal the money the same day it is deposited, or we only stand a chance during the transfer. Steve stood up, walking around the tent with the same thoughtful expression on his face. - No, no. - He began to speak as if the alternatives were rapidly forming in his head. - The carriage will be extremely protected. In the gunfire, we can be very worried about not getting killed, which will give them a chance to escape to the city. And then we'll have no way to reach them there. You sighed, knowing that he was right. You frowned, trying to think of something, but Steve soon spoke again. - We need to do this while the money is in the bank. And we have to do it fast. - He says, and then walks to the edge of the hut, looking around the field. He whistles, attracting the attention of Peggy Carter, who is chopping wood, and when she raises her curious gaze to him, Steve beckons her to join him. - What is it, Rogers? - Peggy asks gently. You exchange a smile with her. - We've got a new hit. - He says, making room for Peggy to join you. - Is Bucky around? - He went out hunting a few minutes ago. The twins went with him. - Peggy says and you rest your face on your own hand, waiting for Steve to speak again. - Oh right. I'll explain the details to them later. - The blond man says, walking around the cabin to the table in the opposite corner, and he takes a pen and paper and begins to write down what you think of as a rough draft of the plan. - We will rob Valentine's bank then. - I thought that banks in small towns were not worth the risk. - Peggy commented with a slightly confused expression. - Ah, but we have a unique opportunity. - Steve remarked, bringing the doodle over to Peggy. - Howard Stark, big oil guy, is going to buy the Heartlands mines. The purchase money will be deposited in Valentine before being transferred to Saint Denis. I believe we will have about a few hours to rob the bank - Steve, are you sure this is a good idea? - Peggy assumed a worried posture. - We are short on snipers... - It's a great idea. - He interrupts, looking at Peggy seriously, but still maintaining a calm tone. - We need the money, Peggy. If this is planned correctly, we don't have to worry about the number of weapons. - I appreciate the confidence in my abilities, by the way. - You playfully push your shoulder lightly against Peggy, she smiles at you. - Of course I trust you, Y/N. - She answers, but her gaze is still worried. - We just need to be careful in this job. You spend the rest of the afternoon planning. It doesn't take long for Bucky to join you. He hands a deer carcass to Pietro, who carries it back to the supply hut. Steve repeats the plan, and you let your gaze drift quickly to Wanda, who smiles at you, and you feel something in your stomach drop. Blushing, you look away, turning your attention back to Steve. It is already night when you have finally finished working out the plan. Wanda and Pietro joined you at some point, and you had to mentally repeat to yourself to pay attention to Steve's words and not to the redheaded girl a few feet away. You didn't want your passion to cost your life or put everyone else in danger because you didn't absorb the plan correctly, but you were getting to this level of unfocused. You felt a light tug on your arm as you walked toward the fire, and found yourself smiling wryly as you faced Wanda already looking at you. - I got my first deer today. - She declared, looking up at you with bright eyes, a tone of pride and happiness in her voice. You raise your eyebrows in a pleased expression. - What? That's amazing, Wands. - You replied. - I told you that you would learn soon! I would have liked to have seen it. - We can hunt together. - She says, and you try not to show your nervousness at the thought of being alone with Wanda, but you don't disguise it very well, which makes Wanda confused, and she looks almost disappointed when she quickly adds - Pietro can come with us too. You blink a few times, believing her to be clarifying that she had no intention of spending time alone with you, and swallowing dryly, you nod in agreement. - Yes, yes. Sure, we should call him too. - You say taking a few steps back, hands in your pockets as you stare uncomfortably at the floor. Wanda bites her lower lip lightly, finding you extremely difficult to decipher. You spend a moment in silence, before she speaks again - We can go tomorrow afternoon if you have no business in town. You think about it for a moment, trying to remember if you had made any appointments, if any robbery opportunities had been signaled to you, but you can't think of anything. - No, it's fine. We can hunt tomorrow. - You say, trying not to be too embarrassed by the contented smile Wanda flashes at you. She was probably going to say it was marked, but Pietro interrupted the moment by extending a bowl of stew in front of her face. Wanda blinked a few times in confusion, but thanked her brother as soon as she grabbed the item. Pietro turned to you next, a relaxed posture as he took a sip of the beer he was holding. - What were you two talking about? - he asked, his tone curious. - It's rude to snoop, you know. - You teased, drawing a short laugh from Wanda, and Pietro rolled his eyes stubbornly, but smiled. - We're going hunting tomorrow. I'll show Y/N that I learned how to use the bow on some deer. - explained Wanda, looking at her brother. - Will you come with us? Pietro frowned, denying with his head. - Sorry, little sister. - He speaks seriously, but his eyes have a malice in them that you didn't know how to recognize. - I'd love to join you on your date, but I have an appointment. You and Wanda blush at the insinuation, but Pietro continues with a playful aura as he takes another sip of beer. Although embarrassed, you can't help but be happy to know that you would be spending some time alone with the girl. - Oh, all right. - Wanda says in what seems to be an attempt to sound disappointed, but her eyes sparkle slightly as she speaks. You don't notice, but Pietro smiles at the expression. - You're full of secrets lately. What kind of appointment? Pietro laughs, shrugging his shoulders. He walks toward you with a playful expression, and puts his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Wanda as he leans on you. - Your girlfriend taught me how to play poker and now I am famous, my presence is requested in Rhodes. I need to bet and win some money for this place. You choke slightly on the phrase and feel your face heat up, looking down at the floor. Wanda lets out a nervous laugh, and pushes her brother lightly, making him let go of you. - You mean lose money, don't you? - she teases. - Even Thor plays better than you, and he usually just flips the table. You laugh, risking a glance at Wanda, who has a reddened face and quickly exchanges a smile with you. Pietro rolls his eyes and walks past you, waving goodbye. Deciding that you should eat something, you nod to Wanda that you are going to the fire. She smiles and follows you silently

You didn't hunt very often. Although you were good at it, it was not your function in the camp. You were a gunslinger, and your jobs usually involved carriage robberies and trespassing, even the occasional robbery. You were always part of the team for the big scams. And then Wanda invited you to go deer hunting and you became an anxious mess. Stumbling out of your tent, you hurried to take a quick swim in the creek near the campground. It was important not to smell too strongly when you went out hunting, as the animals could more easily notice you. Coming out of the water with wet hair, you put on your clothes, leaving the suspenders hanging from your waist and a few buttons open on your shirt. You were feeling heated. You waited for Wanda at the campfire. She also bathed before meeting you, and she seemed slightly anxious when she found you. You smiled as you poured some coffee, and Wanda looked a little airy when she accepted the cup. You didn't understand why, but the sight of your relaxed appearance, your loose hair and your exposed collarbone was absolutely irresistible to her, making Wanda feel heated in places that were not appropriate. You joked that soon she would become the best hunter in the camp, and you were happy to make her smile. As you rode out of the camp, you smiled as you felt Wanda lightly tap her foot against yours, as you used to play with as children. Riding in silence for a few minutes, you enjoyed the gentle breeze until you came to a hunting spot. You descended from Knight slowly, stretching your body when you reached the ground. Wanda watched your shirt lift and reveal some skin, then she looked away quickly, her face red. You cast a curious look, thinking she was feeling heat. Grabbing your rifle stored on the horse, you watched Wanda take from Lily's saddle - her red sorrel - a longbow and some arrows. You walked in silence, heading for the shallow part of the creek beside you, where you could easily find deer. It was comfortable to be in Wanda's presence, even in silence. Neither of you had to say anything to know exactly what to do next, your body following her along the way as if you had done this many times before. One look and you knew when to wait, or when to be quiet. It didn't take long before you spotted the deer. There weren't many, and Wanda bent down in front of you to take aim. You watched her with admiration. She raised her bow, and you noticed the slight tremor in her hands and frowned. You came forward, also bent down, and stood beside her. - There's no need to be nervous, Wands. - You whispered softly. - It's just me. The trembling in their hands seemed to diminish, but it was still there. You moved closer, raising your hands to join Wanda's, helping her to keep a steady aim. - Take a deep breath. - You said against her ear, waiting for her to obey. - And then shoot. With her speech, Wanda let go. The arrow cut through the air with speed, hitting the animal straight in the head. A perfect shot. You smiled, and when you looked at Wanda, she was already looking at you. You were about to congratulate her on the shot, but Wanda hugged you by the neck, surprising you. You felt your face heat up and due to the shock, you didn't respond to the hug, your body seeming asleep for an instant. Wanda let you go quickly, her face flushed with apology. You were about to tell her it was okay, and maybe hug her back, then you heard an animalistic noise that attracted your full attention, a low growl that you knew all too well. Glad you had brought your rifle, you looked around, searching for the source of the noise. Wanda blinked curiously, but you didn't look at her again. Standing up, you held the rifle with both hands, your gaze roaming the surroundings. A moment later, the bushes a few feet away moved, and you watched the creature sneak through the undergrowth, only to run toward you the next second, preparing to jump. The sound of gunfire echoed for a few seconds after the shot. You let out the breath you were holding and watched the panther lying on the ground, just a few inches away from your feet. Wanda looked at you in shock, and you offered your hand to help her up. - Sorry for the scare. - You grumbled, walking towards the panther intent on retrieving the skin, which should be worth a few dozen dollars. - We always have to be careful not to become the prey during the hunt. - How did you hear it? - Wanda asked curiously. - Practice I guess. - You said, kneeling down beside the panther. - Every sound around us is important. - You explained - Pay attention now, for example. Besides my voice, what do you hear? Wanda seemed to think for a moment. - I can only hear water, I think. Maybe birds. - She confesses, you finish cutting the skin off the animal in front of you. - Oh, sorry. - You say quickly. - I forgot that I just drove all the animals away with the noise of the rifle. You laugh to yourself, and Wanda smiles at you tenderly. - Let's go after that deer. I'll teach you to hear the sounds another day. - You tell her as you stand up. Walking over to the dead deer, you observe Wanda kneeling beside the animal, drawing her own knife. - Bucky taught you how to skin? - you ask, watching the firm but still amateurish cut Wanda was giving the animal. - Yes, he told me to skin rabbits before he taught me to cut the deer during yesterday's hunt. - said the red-haired girl focused on the activity. You tried not to blush as you watched a drop of sweat trickle down your neck. - I learned to skin animals from him too. - You commented as you waited for Wanda to finish the task. - I was a little smaller, I think. - I guess it took long enough for us to learn how to hunt, didn't it? - Wanda joked, drawing a smile from you. It was true, hunting had been the last activity Steve and Bucky taught you. For some reason, teaching them to shoot was a higher priority than getting food from the wild. A moment later, Wanda finished, raising the deer leather in the air, showing off her work proudly. You laughed at her expression, signaling for her to step away from the animal. You handed her your rifle, and bent down, grabbing the carcass with both hands and throwing it over your shoulders to carry it to the horse. It was quite heavy, but you concentrated your breathing as Bucky had taught you, and managed to carry the animal to Wanda's sorrel. After placing the carcass on the back of the animal, you grunted when you saw the state of your shirt, completely covered in blood. - What's the matter? - Wanda asked curiously when she heard your sigh. - Pepper made me promise not to come covered in blood to the camp anymore. - You say, rolling up your sleeves. - She told me she would put me to sleep with the horses if I showed up like this again. Of course, she will probably just change my watch shifts, but it will still be a pain to hear the lecture. - You could have told me to carry the deer. - Wanda retorted, looking at you with a mixture of seriousness and guilt. You just smiled. - Don't be silly, I just need to clean up before I go back. - You said simply, and Wanda frowned in confusion. And then she choked in surprise, watching you pull your shirt over your head. You went around her body and towards the creek. It took Wanda a few seconds to snap out of her shock, then she turned her head toward the creek, her face flushed. You rubbed the fabric with your hands, watching the blood drip into the water. You put your shirt aside only to wet your own body, wiping any traces of blood from your skin. Completely oblivious to the shy mess Wanda had become as she watched you wash yourself. Finished cleaning yourself, you wrung out your shirt, getting as much water buildup out as possible. You put your clothes back on, feeling the damp fabric against your skin. Wanda stood in the same place you had left her, and you frowned when you saw her look quickly away from you, her face red. You suddenly felt very embarrassed, thinking that you must have crossed some boundary with her. Coughing awkwardly, you walked toward your own horse. You rode in silence back to the camp, you mentally going over the whole conversation trying to find what you had done wrong that made Wanda so quiet. You were surprised when you heard her singing softly. Smiling without looking at her, you slowed down the speed of Knight's gallop, trying to enjoy the moment to the fullest. Wanda continued to sing the whole way, and you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies in your stomach

#wanda maximoff x reader #marvel reader insert #western au #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wanda x reader #marvel imagines #red dead redemption au #Land of Thieves

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 3 years

Text

killing peggy carter

summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)

warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.

pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )

word count: about 9,800

a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.

When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.

Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.

It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.

When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.

Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.

Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.

You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.

It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.

There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.

You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.

You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.

You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.

But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.

Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.

You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.

Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.

You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.

Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.

Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.

You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.

You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.

You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.

There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?

You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.

You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.

You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.

You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.

When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.

Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.

Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.

You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.

You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.

You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.

“Peggy?”

He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.

You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.

His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”

You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”

“Y/N, I am so—”

“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.

“You’re angry, I understand.”

“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”

You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”

He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He finally stood, towering over you.

“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.

“Stop,” he said quietly.

And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.

He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”

“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”

“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”

“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”

“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”

“What?”

“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”

“I won’t fuck you.”

“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”

He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”

“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”

He frowned.

You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.

You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”

You heard him step a few times, then nothing.

You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”

“I came back to the one I left.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.

Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.

The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.

But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.

You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.

Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.

He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”

“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.

You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”

He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”

“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”

“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”

“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”

He glared. “When are you going home?”

She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”

“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”

“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”

“Have there been others?”

And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”

“People...men you’ve let close.”

You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”

“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”

“I wasn’t lying—”

“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I do love you—”

You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”

He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”

“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.

He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.

How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?

You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.

He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.

Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.

An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.

You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.

Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.

It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.

Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?

Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.

But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.

So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.

You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.

She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.

She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.

When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.

She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.

You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.

When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.

After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?

You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.

She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.

You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.

Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.

When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.

The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.

“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”

Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.

You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.

“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.

Shit. “Steve…”

“You fucked her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”

You said nothing.

He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”

“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.

You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”

He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”

Your eyebrows pulled together.

“Now.”

“No, you fucking—”

“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”

“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.

“Four, five—”

“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.

“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.

You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.

He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.

“Are you wet?”

“What?”

“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.

“No.”

“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”

“What?”

“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”

You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.

“Show me.”

Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.

“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”

You snorted. “Eww, no—”

He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”

He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.

Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.

He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.

You shook your head. “No.”

One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.

You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.

For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.

The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.

He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.

You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.

And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.

“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”

You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.

He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.

You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.

You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.

You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.

You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.

He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.

Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.

Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.

You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.

“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.

You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.

“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”

Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?

Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.

He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.

You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.

He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.

So, in conclusion, you felt lies.

If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.

He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.

You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.

Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.

A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.

Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.

Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.

Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.

Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.

Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.

Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.

He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.

You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.

You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.

He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.

He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.

“Did you see him?”

You nodded.

“You talked to him.”

“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.

He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”

“Bucky, I’m really so—”

He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.

You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.

Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.

When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”

“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”

You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.

“Why did you even go?”

This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”

“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”

“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”

His mouth dropped.

You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”

“You’re insane!”

You glared. “Bucky.”

“You didn’t do it, right?!”

“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”

He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”

The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”

“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”

“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”

His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”

You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.

The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.

“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”

“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”

You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That can wait!” Natasha declared.

“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.

These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.

As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.

You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.

Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”

Oh, shit.

Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!

You glanced at Bucky.

His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Yep, the world was most certainly ending.

#steve rogers x reader #why write what you requested when i can just be a moody water sign and write angst?#i don't even remember when i wrote this and i barely edited it honestly bc i'm just kinda over it #i wouldn't have even posted it bc it's been THAT long but i spent time on this so #my writing

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