#didn’t allow her and a couple other nurses to bring in a cake for one of the residents | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

photmath · 1 year

Text

Comme Les Fleurs - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Birthday Bleus

Summary: Left with no other options, Kylian must rehab his newly injured leg at a stranger’s home for the next month and she isn’t at all what he expects. Meanwhile, Aurèle has to deal with easily-irritated and sullen Kylian as she opens her home to him.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: cursing, fluff!, angst kind of, mommy issues

Note: Happy readings! *wink*

Kylian lets out a grunt and then a shaky exhale. Sweat lined the sides of each temple and Aurie could only smirk as she watched his shoulders tense through his sweaty tank.

“Who knew massaging your thigh could work you up such a sweat?” Aurie teases and then squeezes the lower end of the back of his thigh. The bruising had gone down tremendously through the last weeks. It was still there but was starting to blend in with his skin more, and for that reason, Aurie still hesitated to massage his calf. She only ran her fingers against the skin softly, not wanting to irritate the already exhausted muscles any further.

His head rolls into his folded arms, “You had me walking back and forth in here like a mad man, and then complained every step that it wasn’t correct.”

Aurie ignores him, wiping the back of his sweaty thigh with the towel. She didn’t realize that the abundance of sweat was from Kylian’s nerves. Not only from her hands, but from his own progress in his healing process. He was walking without his crutches and he found it relatively pain-free. He was surprised by the first couple of steps, expecting pain to shoot up his leg but none came. He felt giddy from the idea of finally being able to walk normally again, and listening to Aurie repeat over and over that he wasn’t allowed to run or ‘speed-walk’ only made him want to drop his head to lay a bashful—and thankful—kiss on her lips.

Aurie taps the back of his leg, “Okay, you’re done. Now, hurry and shower if you want to come with me to bingo. Can you believe some of the residents actually missed you?” Kylian turns around and sits up in front of Aurie who now holds a spray bottle and a different yellow towel. He gives her a sheepish smile. “What are you doing? Move so I can clean the table.”

He shakes his head, “Thank you for making me walk again.”

“You say that like you were never going to walk—”

“Take the compliment, Aurie, it won’t kill you,” he says, standing up. He slips into the space between her and the table just inches in front of her. He lets his neck fall down to look at her, entranced with the way her eyes peered up at him carefully.

“You’re welcome,” she exasperates. He smiles, pulling her into him to kiss her forehead. “Kylian—” she pushes him off but he’s already let go of her, walking away to the restroom. She shakes her head as she cleans the table, biting onto her lip to suppress her smile.

Kylian had briefly checked his phone for a message from the nursing home. His plan was haste, but turns out Aurie’s coworkers were already in the process of having something planned for her. All Kylian had to do was bring the cake—which he got the aid from Estrella and Maria to bake because they did not trust him to make a proper one.

There’s one message on his phone: Everything’s ready. Another from his dad but he ignores it.

---

“I should’ve known Angie was in on this,” Aurie scowls at the blindfold in Kylian’s hand. He can only smirk as he steps towards her. “How much did you pay Angie to do this?”

He feigns hurt, “Pay her? You really think I’d pay her to blindfold you?”

“Yes,” Aurie crosses her arms. “I don’t think my coworkers would willingly blindfold me so I say this is your idea.”

Kylian shrugs, pressing the blindfold against her eyes, and then ties the back of it against her hair. He grins next to her ear, “200 euros.”

She gasps, “No way!” Kylian chuckles in her ear and she has to move away from him to stop the visceral reaction of growing goosebumps on her neck.

“No, Aurie, why would I do that?”

She raises her shoulders, but she isn’t sure where he’s standing. Kylian grabs a hold of her hand and leads her to the ballroom where the residents and Aurie’s coworkers were gathered. She follows him silently, bumping into his arm occasionally but neither of them are bothered by it.

“No more blindfolds after this, okay?”

“Okay,” he promises. The small smile on his face only grows as he watches Aurie’s nose swing around the room searching for something. He chuckles quietly because all he wants to do is grab a hold of her cheeks and kiss her.

“It can’t be that big of a surprise if I already know what’s happening,” she comments.

“Shh,” he presses his pointer finger against her lips and she quiets down, shocked with the feel of his finger and breath fanning across her face. “I’m about to open the doors okay, and then you’re going to pretend that you’re super shocked.”

“Okay,” she nods.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhmm.”

He opens the doors for her and leads her into the room with his hand pressed against her lower back. “You can take off your blindfold now.”

She takes it off swiftly, her jaw immediately dropping at the different orange colored balloons around the ballroom. There was a table of a giant card that was signed by each of the residents. Aurie was able to make out the smaller messages from a distance but she was transfixed with the cake. There was an abundance of strawberries on it, and a beautifully cursive message that read: Happy 25th Birthday, Aurie!

“Ahh,” she turns towards Kylian, “this is so beautiful!” She rises up to give him a hug and he chuckles within it. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The bubbly excitement has her pressing her lips against his cheek before she can stop herself and Kylian gapes at the contact of it. Before he can relish in the feeling of it, she’s off to greet her residents and coworkers.

His breathing quickens at the sight of her, enamored by her gratitude towards them and him. He doesn’t notice Claude until he says something, “She looks a lot happier now that you’re back. She was still pretty chippy but she was missing the glow.”

Kylian couldn’t be at the last bingo session because he was with Martin for his progress check up. Kylian smiles, “She’s great. She makes me happier if anything.”

Claude tips his hat towards him, “Don’t break her heart now. She’s too pure for someone like you.”

“She might be too pure for anyone,” Kylian retorts.

Claude agrees, “That may be true. You think you have it in you to keep her?”

Kylian shrugs, staring at Aurie from a distance, “I don’t think so. I don’t think she’s made for my kind of lifestyle that her trying to fit into it will only be a disaster, but I would be an idiot to let someone like her go without a fight.”

Claude groans, “I forgot you are the French man! Oh no, you must stay away from her. You can’t take her from us.”

Kylian chuckles to ease the tension from growing. He didn’t want to think too far ahead of himself, certainly not about what the future held for his own career. His still vibrating phone was a sign of how much he was ignoring it.

Claude reaches out to grab a hold of Kylian’s wrist, noticing the smile on his face falter, “You should try because what’s the worst that can happen?”

Kylian nods his head slowly. The possibilities were endless. Getting someone like Aurie into the spotlight would only diminish her spark. “I’m trying.”

“Keep going. It would be unwise to throw away something great because of the ‘what ifs’ so don’t think about them,” he advises, patting Kylian’s wrist and then rolling his wheelchair away.

It was easier said than done, but Claude was right and Kylian knew it. Either way, he was waiting to see how Aurie was holding up. He didn’t want to rush her with anything, and he didn’t want to come off too strong. They weren't in a rush to label their relationship.

---

“Just answer the question,” Aurie pesters, slightly annoyed that Kylian isn’t indulging in her game. “Anywhere in the world, where are you going?”

Kylian rolls his eyes, “I’ve already been to many places, Aurie.”

“Okay then which is your favorite?” The car jostles as it passes the gravel road of her driveway. Kylian’s nerves had started a few kilometers away when he noticed the lack of cars in Aurie’s driveway. Where were they? They were supposed to be here before they returned and here Aurie was oblivious to what she was missing.

His hands clutch around his phone as it vibrates. He looks down at it, hoping it’s Camille, having had to go through so many hoops to get her number. Thanks to Angie, the lady at the front desk of the nursing home, he now had her number.

“Kylian?” Aurie peers over, shutting the car down.

“Tokyo,” he answers quickly.

She raises her brows, “Really?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs defeatedly. His second surprise had failed in front of him, even if Aurie knew nothing about it. “C’mon, I’m about to crash from all that cake.”

She chuckles, “You did eat a lot of it. Wait, is that—” Aurie rushes to open the door and Kylian tries to see what’s suddenly got her attention but he can’t. He steps out of the car, each step a little more frantic now that he can’t see Aurie standing next to the car. His fear calms down with the sound of her laughter. “Bleu!”

Aurie is crouched down, scratching the sides of a black, fluffy German Shepherd. Kylian smiles at Aurie trying to push Bleu off of her, but he wants to attack her face with more excited jumps. “Look over there, Bleu!”

Bleu notices Kylian, raising his ears suspiciously. Kylian freezes and strains out a smile towards the dog. Bleu sniffs the gravel as he walks towards Kylian and Aurie can only laugh as Kylian grows more noticeably worried.

“He’s not going to bite you,” she promises. She walks behind Bleu as he sniffs at Kylian’s shoes, scoffing as he moves up to sniff his legs. “He probably smells me all over you.”

Kylian lets out a breath, “He’s a lot bigger than I thought he would be.”

“Oh yeah,” she rubs her hands on her thigh, whistling for Bleu’s attention. Bleu licks Kylian’s hand before finding his way next to Aurie. “Are you scared of dogs?”

Kylian shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if he had heard me coming behind you and the last thing I wanted was him thinking I was trying to attack you.”

Aurie smiles, leaning her head against his arm as the two of them walk to the front of her house. “He would’ve attacked you way before I noticed him if so. I wonder why he was out here alone. Maybe Camille dropped him off at my mom’s place and he wandered here.”

Kylian nods, looking down at Bleu’s wagging tail. He was growing more antsy as Aurie fumbled for her keys to unlock the door. She coos at Bleu to quiet down but he isn’t bulging. As she opens the door, Bleu runs inside and Kylian peers around, noticing the streamers and birthday banner before Aurie does.

“He’s so happy to be back,” she turns around, waiting for Kylian to move so that she can lock the door. He chuckles and she looks up at him, “What?”

He shrugs but his grin deepens. As she turns around, Camille and the rest of her family jump from behind the hallway and stairs, “Happy birthday!” Aurie jumps and crashes into Kylian’s chest. His large hand against her waist steadies her.

Simone runs to Aurie’s legs, holding out a flower for her, “Tatie Aurie, a daisy for you!”

“Ahhh, this is so pretty,” Aurie gushes.

“Happy birthday,” Simone cheeses and Aurie pulls her in for a hug. Simone goes up to Kylian and wraps a fistful of his shorts into her hand, “Bonjour, Keelan.”

Kylian laughs, “How are you, my little rockstar?”

“Mama says I have to be nicer to you,” she rocks on her heels. Her hands play with the ends of her skirt. “But I think I’m already nice to you and instead you have to be nice to me.”

Kylian only laughs harder, bending down to her level as Aurie goes and greets her family. He notices the way her mother hugs her tightly. He looks back at Simone, “I’m nice.”

Simone places a finger to her mouth, “Hmm…okay. I have an idea, how about we go outside and play with Bleu?”

He shakes his head, “And not eat the food your Mama made?”

She crosses her arm, pouting, “I don’t want to eat right now.”

He looks up to see Camille standing next to him, a small smile on her face, “Thank you for doing this for Aurie. I can see how she’s been working herself up these past two weeks.”

Kylian furrows his eyebrows. He knew she had been running around relentlessly at the beginning of his arrival, but she was still doing that? What had been tirelessly occupying her mind?

Bleu comes by and sniffs Simone’s face, earning a screech from her. The two of them wander off into the living room; Bleu is following closely behind her as she waves a lollipop in his face.

Camille nods at his leg, “I see the crutches are gone, that’s good at least.”

“This morning, Aurie says to take it easy.”

“She should take that advice for herself sometimes.”

Kylian looks at her, confused again at her comments about Aurie, “What is that supposed to mean?”

She simpers, “I’m worried she’s been stressing herself too much. I know they cut off funding for the Summer Gala, but some projects are okay to delay. Maybe a Fall Gala would be better.”

“A gala?”

“For her residents at the home.”

Kylian’s eyes search for Aurie, who’s deep into conversation with Raphael and Simone.

Camille’s smile saddens, “I just hope when finds out this doesn’t break her like her last job. And the one before that.” She pats Kylian’s arm as she leaves because Simone is beckoning her over.

Kylian only grows more puzzled as he stands there. How did Camille know this before Aurie? Before he can gather more answers, something furry and fluffy rubs against his leg. He looks down and sees a gray cat pressing her weight and wrapping her tail around his leg. He moves his leg as Maple’s bright brown eyes look up at him.

“Nope,” he mutters, walking off to the kitchen.

It wasn’t that he hated cats, he didn’t understand the fame around them. They aren’t large. They don’t go on walks like a dog. They scratch up the furniture and knock down everything in their path, and their litter boxes smell so rancidly every time they have to use the restroom. It didn’t make sense to him why someone would give up their house willingly for their feline.

Kylian helps Raphael pull a couple of chairs to Aurie’s small dining table. It was only going to fit four, but he and Aurie were going to be squished on one end while Simone sat between her parents. Aurie comes beside him, cheesing up at him. His legs go awry and Aurie expects it, nudging him towards the back of his chair.

“Clumsy boy,” she whispers and heat rushes to his cheeks. He ducks his head down bashfully as she chuckles, sitting down in the seat beside him.

He takes a seat and then Simone steals most of the conversation at the table. She talks about Bleu’s and Maple’s escapades while they were at her house and how the two of them would wake her up every morning.

Aurie snickers, knowing all too well what Simone meant. Her animals were relentless in the morning, especially whenever they entertained themselves, which consisted of the two of them wrestling each other until one of them let out a cry and they separated. Aurie rests her thigh against Kylian and he gives her a wink when she looks at him innocently. He smirks, shoving his thigh against hers playfully.

After the lunch, Simone steals Kylian from the table and the two of them sit on the floor and play with her dolls. Aurie catches his attention as she walks into the rehab room with her mother behind her. She sends him a smile as his brows only furrow, but then cringe at the sudden screech Simone lets out.

“Araignée!” She stands up quickly and hides behind Kylian’s shoulders, grasping onto them as Kylian looks for the spider in question.

He smashes it with his shoe, “It’s gone.”

“Thank you, Keelan,” she wipes the imaginary bead of sweat on her forehead and Kylian snorts. “Hmm, did Aurie fix your leg?” She stands in front of him, examining his outstretched leg.

“She fixed it a little bit.”

Simone pinches her fingers together, “A little bit? So you can’t kick a ball yet?”

“No.”

Simone nods and then runs away to her toy box outside, getting what Kylian can only assume is some other game of entertainment for the both of them.

---

Aurie chews on her bottom lip as she watches her mother touch the different equipment in the rehab room. She already knew by the look on her face that she wasn’t happy and she hated that Kylian and Simone were just right next door. She didn’t want little Simone to hear the two of them arguing, so she could only hope that Kylian was occupying her attention diligently.

“I mean look at this place,” Elina starts, waving her arms around the room. Aurie sniffles, quickly wiping away the tear that threatens to spill out. “Are you going to keep rehabbing broken boys forever, Aurèle? Is that your plan? That’s Kylian fucking Mbappè out there!”

“I know,” Aurie says. It’s taking everything in her to hold in her anger.

“Do you not understand the problems that can cause? What if you don't complete a proper treatment on him, then what? You face a lawsuit—”

“That’s not going to happen, Maman. Besides, that can happen anywhere I work.”

“He’s a superstar, Aurèle. I know I said to get back into the football world but I didn’t mean for him to be your first.”

Aurie bites her tongue from spewing the first words in her head. She shakes her head, “Is that what you brought me in here for? So that you can criticize him and me?”

“I’m not criticizing him. He didn’t choose to do this,” she points out. Aurie scoffs, looking away from her. Elina steps closer to her, “You’re 25 now. You’re not a kid anymore. You need to get a real job; one that is stable for both you and your future. I’m not telling you to find a husband because you saw where that got me and your father, but a real job at least. Go back to PSG or the hospital because that damn nursing home is holding you back.”

Aurie steps away from her, “It’s not, and it’s a real job. I work there five days a week just like you did. I’ve never had problems before with money and I’ve always been overly-cautious. This? What I’m doing right now is a favor for Martin. I didn’t ask for any of this, but I’m doing it either way—”

“That man is in love with you!” Elina glares. “Everyone can see it, Aurèle. What are you going to do when he wants to tell you to the public?”

Aurie chokes on her own breath, coughing hoarsely to catch it. Kylian’s poor attempt of hiding his longing glances had caught up to them. Only a fool would miss the looks between them, and her mother was certainly no fool.

Elina crosses her arms, “Is that why you haven’t gone back to PSG or the hospital? Because it will only complicate things?”

“No!” Aurie yells. “I’m not going back there, okay? I still do everything I was taught and more at the nursing home. They’re a family there and everyone is always happy to see me—”

Elina raises her hand to stop Aurie from talking, “I hope you’re able to sustain it and that you don’t run away from this job like the last. What are you going to do when one of your patient’s passes away?”

Aurie’s eyes widened, “How could you say that?”

“I’m being realistic.”

“You’re being inconsiderate,” Aurie replies. She didn’t like talking back to her mother, but sometimes it was better to speak than wallow in the conversations of what she should’ve said.

Elina opens her mouth to speak but Aurie beats her to it.

“And I have lost patients already,” Aurie continues, “you’ve never asked so I never said anything. It’s hard, but I move on because I have a village supporting me. Treating Kylian like the ‘superstar’ he may be is undermining his entire character. He is a lot more than that, just ask Simone. He is also someone I have to heal, not you, me. I know what I’m doing with him just like how I knew what I was doing with you.”

Elina gapes but Aurie is fed up. She shakes her head and turns away from her, hoping that she takes the sign to leave the room. Aurie knew that her mother was always going to have doubts about her profession but it was her life to live. It was her life. She knew how easily her mother could control her mind because she had done it her entire life. She always tried to appease her mother in whatever way that meant, even if it went against her own interests. Aurie played football for years as a child and teen even though she absolutely despised playing. The only way she finally stopped was by faking an injury, which may have been her biggest regret, especially after watching the disappointment on her mother’s face grow as Aurie showed her her actual interests.

The door shuts and Aurie lets out a shaky breath. She squeezes her eyes closed to stop the tears, but they only want to flow more freely. She gives herself a moment to cry for the loss, and spark of courage she felt for speaking her mind against her mother’s wishes. It needed to be done. She would reach out to her mother in a week after it all simmered down.

Aurie dries her eyes and makes sure she looks presentable before stepping out into the main room again. Kylian gives her a concerned look from the ground while Simone pats his head. She flashes him a smile and then finds Camille, needing comfort from her sister.

---

Aurie scrambles to wipe away her tears as she hears a knock on her door, while Maple sleeps quietly in her cat tree. Kylian on the other end of the door can hear the sudden movement and her sniffles. His heart pangs, “Aurie?”

“Are you okay?” she asks, glancing into the mirror to check how red her eyes are.

Kylian wants to gawk at her audacity of asking him if he’s okay when he’s able to hear her sobs across the hallway. His knuckles rap against the door again, “Can I come in?”

Her shoulders sink at the inability to hide her puffy cheeks and irritated eyes. She twists the doorknob slowly and opens the wooden door to a worried Kylian who starts pushing the door harder to be let in. His eyes scan her legs in her pajama shorts, and then rake up towards her black tank top until they land on her tear-stained cheeks.

“Chèrie,” he whispers. His hands find their way to both of her cheeks immediately, her frown is squished between his palms. “What’s wrong?”

“Today was a lot,” she laments. Kylian’s heart is crumbling by the second as he listens to her wobbly voice. “I don’t get it.” Aurie’s voice chokes as warm tears drip down against Kylian’s thumbs. He’s quick to wipe them away and then pull her close to him, wrapping his arms tightly against her head.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I thought it would be a good idea to invite them—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she sniffles, pulling away from him. “My mom is just…a lot.”

Kylian dejects, “Do you want to talk about it?” He guides her to her bed and he pushes her to sit down, but she doesn’t. Instead, she moves out of his grasp and walks the stretch of her bedroom. He plops down on the end of her bed to watch her. He notices Maple arching her back to stretch, then hopping down and jumping onto her bed, loafing at the other end.

He wants to whisper ‘useless’ towards her, but Aurie’s grunt grabs his attention, “She isn’t happy with me. She hasn’t been for years and I don’t understand why she has all these expectations of me. I mean I’m happy, I’m doing what I love—working at a place that I really care about, but somehow it’s not enough. Ever since her accident, she has always looked down at me this way. Like I should be doing more.” She huffs, sitting down next to Kylian and crossing her arms. “As if what she’s doing is any better.”

Kylian watches her silently. The tension between her eyebrows only grows and a scowl grows more and more.

“She’s upset that I didn’t continue at Marseille or PSG for that matter. That I quit working at the hospital and am now working at a nursing home that pays significantly less. She says I should’ve fought harder, that I’m wasting my years doing this, but I’m not.”

Aurie walks to the end of her bedroom, swinging her body around to walk towards the other end. Kylian stands up, and then takes small steps towards her.

“And I mean she acts like I don’t have a heart,” she spits. “That I quit because I stopped caring, or that I was scared of commitment. I mean are you kidding me? I had her in my home for two years! Two years of listening to her complain, and then also having my dad scream at me about her treatment. I had to kick my own dad out of the house so she could progress because he kept thinking I was too hard on her. Like what? I’m supposed to go ‘easy’ on a spinal cord injury? As if I wouldn’t know that?”

She spins again on her toes, her voice trembling with both rage and exhaustion. If she had known stepping into that rehab room with her mother was going to be a lecture, she would’ve never followed her into that room. It was debilitating to live her life knowing her mother was right behind her, criticizing every move of hers. How she was able to hold herself up for the rest of the night surprised her.

Kylian crosses his arms, looking down at the teary glow of her eyes, “How was her treatment?”

She huffs, shrugging, “It was hard. I mean, a spinal cord injury is delicate. It’s everything all at once. It’s learning how to live again, not knowing what the progress will actually be like.” She sits down on the edge of her wooden bed frame. “My dad and her moved in here together. My dad didn’t trust himself to be able to take care of her so I offered to help. I offered to do everything. And then once the rehab portion of it started, my dad would watch us, despite me telling me that he probably wouldn’t like it. It was stress-inducing. My mother is an impatient person, so she would get frustrated when she couldn’t grasp the shapes and squeeze them into their correct spot. I would encourage her but sometimes it wasn’t enough.”

Kylian sits down next to her and Aurie plays with the hem of his shorts, tracing the French emblem.

“There were days where she got it; the shapes were easy and matching the colors didn’t phase her. But then there would be days where she would regress, where she couldn’t carry the one kilogram weight she had to. Where she would scream that it was too much and that she wanted a break, but we couldn’t take a break because everything she learned would be gone the next day if so. My dad got so upset at listening to us that he finally yelled at me one day to stop,” Aurie wipes the tear that rushes out of her eye and then caresses Kylian’s fingers. “Somehow, my dad yelling at me only awakened my mother’s will to continue. She woke me up the next morning by telling me how bad she wanted to get better. How grateful she was for me helping her, and that she wanted me to help her get better, even if she was begging me to stop.”

“And?” he runs his finger across her ear, trying to delicately soothe her.

She shakes her head wistfully, “I pressed on. My mom and I got far but my dad was still there, watching us closely. There was a day where she had to pick herself up from the ground in the event she fell. She was already starting to gain most of her control in her arms and upper body, but she still had trouble moving her legs, so we were working on picking herself up from the ground to her wheelchair. It was difficult because her legs still vividly shook and trying to get back up was hard for her. She started to groan, like it was hurting her, but it was just her trying to will herself up. My dad heard the noise and walked in and absolutely lost it. He yelled at the both of us for doing the exercise when my mother was ‘clearly in pain.’ But she wasn’t.”

Aurie looks at the door, already hearing the pitter patter of Bleu’s paws coming down the hall. He bumps the door open, sitting right in front of her and resting his head on her thigh for comfort. Aurie pets his folded ears.

“Anyways, the next day I realized I couldn’t continue on with the both of them in the house, so I told him he had to leave and go back to the house across the field. Him and my mom got into this big argument and then shortly afterward he moved to Spain…only visiting a couple of times for the next two years. My mom chose me that day, but sometimes it feels like I’m the one who was left. Like she blames me for leaving him.”

Kylian shakes his head, grazing her chin so that she looks at him, “You aren’t the reason he left. That was their own relationship, it had nothing to do with you”

She shrugs, wishing it was true. She looks away from him, “As if her and I’s relationship is any better.”

Kylian purses his lips together, meanwhile Bleu whines as Aurie sniffles again. I know, Kylian silently says to Bleu.

“She didn’t want me to leave the hospital. I worked at the hospital as the in-patient therapist, working with different age groups but I mainly did pediatrics. Kids. My first patient was a boy from the Netherlands,” Aurie leans her head against Kylian’s shoulder while he wraps his arm around her. “He was seven and loved to play football. He was really good and apparently played for the U10 Netherlands team and everything, but he suddenly couldn’t keep his legs straight. His knees kept knocking into each other that they finally got it checked out. Once they realized it was a lot more serious than they thought, he and his mother took a train to Paris. So here I was, having to rehab a boy who suddenly couldn’t walk but only wanted to run.”

Kylian kisses her forehead, wanting her to continue but he can hear the sorrow in her voice. Wherever this was going, it wasn’t going to be easy for her to say. He grabs a hold of her hand, clasping his fingers with hers.

“His disease had progressed too long before he had come to us. I mean, his thigh bone—the top part of it—was dying a little every day. Blood had stopped flowing to it, perhaps a year before they initially came to us. The bone had been decaying since then. He would walk with a limp because the bone didn’t fit into the hole of his pelvis anymore. And so we had to wait. Wait to see if the bone would fix itself as he grew, or if he would have to have surgery. It was restless, he just wanted to play football and I had to sit there and get creative with his healing process. I helped him with his school work at times because he wouldn’t be in the mood to do his rehab. Talking with his mother was depressing because she would tell me how the little boys on their street always played ball and he couldn’t join him.

“Eventually, as his thigh bone was starting to regrow, the damage had already been done from him fighting through the pain and discomfort for the last year while playing. He had to have surgery and came out defeated. It was difficult to initially help him out and it hurt. It hurt watching this boy go from being so bright, a laugh that filled the entire room to just this sad, battered boy that lost all the hope in him. He was going to be eight soon, and it was like all the life was already sucked out of him. It was to him at least, because once you tell that same boy that he can play again, you see the hope go back into his eyes, but I knew he only had a couple of years. I knew that it wasn’t going to last long. By the time he’s fifteen, the arthritis in his hip will be so bad that he’ll have to give up the sport. But he doesn’t know that. I never had the guts to tell him.”

Kylian’s frown grows the longer she speaks. He couldn’t imagine having a disease that stopped his ability to play. One that suddenly occurred without a warning. “What’s his name?”

“Stefan.”

“How old is he now?”

“Ten. His birthday was in April. I worked with him for years, and once he was finally released, I quit. I couldn’t bear to have another kid and strip away their dreams.”

Kylian’s hand squeezes hers while his other turns her head to look at him. His chest aches at the tiredness of her eyes, but most of all, the confusion. The confusion from her mother’s attitude towards her and wondering when it will finally change. He gives her a small smile, “You didn’t strip away Stefan’s dreams. You gave him a couple of more years.”

“He doesn’t even know, Kylian.” He’s quick to wipe the tears away that follow her trembling voice.

“You gave him a couple of more years, Aurie. Years that he wouldn’t have had,” he whispers. “You also gave him answers to what was happening with his body. He may hate it now, but as he grows up, he’ll be thankful for how hard you tried to fix it.”

Aurie chews on her lips, listening to the sounds of Kylian’s careful breathing. His thumb pinches her bottom lip, tugging it, and she groans, “Stop it.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“I’m okay.”

He sighs, “Don’t bite it.”

“It’s a force of habit,” she mumbles. Her tired body slumps against his chest, relishing in the feel of his chin resting on top of her head and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her hand plays with the small hair on the back of his neck and he purses his lip at the ticklish feel.

“How about you get some rest?” he asks. His voice vibrates the rest of his body as she sighs comfortably against him.

“Sleep with me.”

He looks down at her, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. We could put a pillow between us if—”

He chuckles, kissing her forehead, “I don’t want a pillow.”

“I don’t either,” she smiles. Kylian presses his lips against her eagerly smile, excited that he could cause her to smile.

She lets out another breathy sigh as she pulls away, “I’m super thirsty…I don’t know why.”

He pecks her forehead as he stands up, “Stay here, I’ll go and grab you the glass.”

He’s quick to fetch her a glass of water, wanting to be in her arms again comforting her. He didn’t care if Aurie would probably knock out the second he returned with the glass. If he could hold her while she slept, he would die happy.

As he makes his way up the stairs, he hears Bleu letting out the same whine he had whenever Aurie was crying earlier. He quickens his pace, grimacing as his calf reminds him to slow down. He nearly drops the glass on the floor when he hears Aurie’s mewl of pain.

“Aurie!”

“I’m okay,” she rasps. She’s holding onto the right side of her pelvis while laying on the floor. She wasn’t on the floor when he left him so he could only imagine that she must’ve fallen.

“You don’t look okay,” he kneels down next to her, handing her the glass.

She shoos it away, “You’re going to hate this.” Her hand presses deep into the spot of pain as she grits her teeth. She whines as another spasm of pain occurs and tries her hardest to muffle the sound through her closed lips.

“What is it?” Kylian tries to move her hand but her death grip won’t allow him. “You’re scaring me.”

“Don’t be scared,” she cries. “I think my appendix is about to rupture and we need to go to the hospital now.”

“Your appendix?” he shrieks. Bleu barks at him and Kylian frets, looking back at Aurie concerned.

“Don’t panic because you’re going to scare him.”

“I’m really fucking scared right now,” Kylian whispers quickly. “Are you going to die?”

“No,” she groans. “But this hurts a lot, Kylian, and we need to go before this actually does rupture and becomes a bigger issue.”

Kylian lets out a groggily noise, “Bigger?!”

She presses her hand against his cheek, trying to rub the worry away, “You need to breathe, okay? Just breathe. I’m going to give you ten seconds to freak out and then you’re going to pretend you know how to drive and take me to the hospital, okay? It’s a five minute drive, and there aren't any cars on the roads right now. The hospital is right next to the nursing home, right before it, you’ve seen it before. Okay? Ten seconds starts now.”

Kylian rapidly shakes his head, “I can’t drive you!”

“Four, five—”

“Aurie, listen, I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Seven, eight—”

“Fuck, chèrie,” Kylian curses as he watches the sweat drip down her temples. Her breathing was starting to get more ragged the longer she counted and he couldn’t handle listening to her moan in pain. It was like nails on a chalkboard to his ears.

Tonight was going to be his first time behind the wheel of a car, albeit with someone he cared deeply about.

------

Note: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Taglist: @karotland @peaky-shelby @darlingmbappe @mrs-bellingham @kylianswifey @kymb-10 @fictional-l0v3r @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @itsjuspenny-blog @mattmurdocksbigtoe @formula101x @et-in-arcadia-ego77 @lovekm @okayymochi @titti-maja @jokertbh @venus2eros @heli991113 @neymarloverxxx @444jodie @mm2007 @freespirit-51 @flawlessdiamond1

#kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe fanfic #kylian mbappe fanfiction #kylian mbappe x oc #mbappe x reader #em.writes #comme les fleurs

228 notes · View notes

goldenkirstein · 3 years

Text

there's no place I'd rather be

or alternatively, you fall in love with jean despite knowing the precarious situation

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

anonymous requested: Hello, long time reader here and glad that you open your request! Can I request a Jean x F! Reader. Reader is a Marleyan nurse who arrived with Yelena, tho she has no hate towards Eldian and feels unfair the stigmatism eldian suffers in Marley. She isnt involved in any plans just do her work. She slowly falls in love with Jean, but has to keep their relationship as she is « the ennemy ». They got secretly engaged before the rumbling. Canonverse, Fluff, slight, love. Thank you in advance ❤️❤️❤️

pairing: jean x fem! reader

wc: 2.1k+

tags: fluff, some angst, manga spoilers, female reader, language, mentions of food and injuries.

a/n: dashes denote timskips

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

“Not so tightly, I said firmly, not to cut off my circulation.” You giggled as the man released his grip on your wrist. He looked down, ears tinted red with embarrassment.

“Sorry, got distracted.” Hazel eyes met yours, and a soft chuckle left his mouth.

You were no stranger to the commanding officer; although a great soldier, he was not immune from the occasional bar fight, which often led him to knock at your door with a pleading look and a couple of cuts and bruises that needed your attention.

Over the months, the fights got less frequent, but Jean continued to visit you, leading to the formation of an unlikely friendship. Sometimes, he would come with lunch in hand, knowing how busy you got taking care of the sick and wounded. Other times, like today, he would join you on his days off, helping you complete menial tasks around the clinic.

“You are a terrible student, Kirstein; you know that?” You stood up from the cot and began to place the gauze and antiseptic liquid in the cabinet situated above.

“Maybe you’re just a terrible teacher.” He looked up at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. You whipped your head back to roll your eyes at the man before returning to the task at hand.

“I’d be careful with the choice of words; I don’t see any other nurse here who lets you follow them around like a lost puppy dog.” Closing the cabinet, you stripped the cot of the sheets, bunching them in your hands. Jean’s eyes followed your precise movements before he took the sheets out of your hand and placed them in the laundry hamper at the end of the bed.

“A puppy dog? Seriously? After helping you out at this lonesome clinic, that’s what I’m reduced to?” He placed a hand over his chest, feigning being shot.

You gave him a deadpan look before moving on to the next bed. The tall man remained in your periphery as you continued to work. The silent treatment clearly worked as a sigh left his lips. You glanced up, mouth already open to quip at him in playful annoyance, but found him running his hands through his hair— a nervous tick. You had picked up on it after cleaning his cuts when missions went wrong.

“So, next lesson, I was thinking, maybe you could teach me how to suture a wound?”

This was what he was nervous about?

“You can barely take my pulse without squeezin’ the pulp out of me; you think I’m going to trust you-”

“Okay, how about a date then.”

You blinked your eyes at him, a confused expression painting your face. There were too many complications, you thought. Sure he was attractive and kind, not to mention thoughtful, and his touch would set your skin ablaze, but he was ranked high in the military; would his superiors be okay with this?

There was no denying you did have feelings for him — a tiny part of you was squealing like a schoolgirl; you desperately wanted to lean into that part, but there could be consequences if you accepted.

Worrisome thoughts circled your mind, and you barely heard your name being called out by the man in front of you. Shaking your head to clear your mind, your focus returned to Jean, his eyebrows raised as he waited with bated breath for your response.

It’s just one date.

It could mean nothing.

There’s no harm in saying yes.

“Um, it’s fine if you don’t-” Jean’s voice was hesitant and quiet, but he was quickly cut off when you let out a laugh.

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just-you know what? Yeah, Kirstein, I’ll go on a date with you.” His demeanour changed, and you giggled at the awkwardness. “Now, I have a pile of patient files that need sorting. Think you’re up for the job?” You bit your lip as you watched the man quickly nod and follow behind your footsteps.

—

“Seriously? I mean, I don’t see it; guess puberty did you wonders, Jean.” You took a bite of the strawberry shortcake, eyes fluttering shut as the flavours filled your mouth.

“Right? I guess I was kind of a dick back then, but I swear they only just stopped calling me that.” Jean smiled as he looked over at you, enjoying the dessert. He hopelessly wanted to kiss you there and then, but he decided against it — too early for that.

“Do you miss it? Your training years?” Taking a napkin, you wiped at the corner of your mouth. The smile on Jean’s face faded away as he looked over the meadow, the setting sun casting a brilliant glow over his features. The change in his expression filled you with instant regret; you opened your mouth to utter out an apology for your carelessness but were cut off by Jean’s voice replacing the sudden silence that had taken over between the two of you.

“Yes? No? Sometimes, it feels like a different lifetime; none of us could have anticipated this. We were so young.” He paused for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing, “Sometimes I wish we could have stayed like that for a little longer — I could have cherished it better.” His voice turned into a whisper near the end. You stayed silent before he turned back, flashing a smile at you that made your heartbeat quicken.

“Enough about me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about Marley. Tell me about it.” Jean’s eyes flickered between yours and the different slices of cake laid out on the picnic blanket. Taking a fork, he bit into the decadent cheesecake and let out a moan.

“You really want to hear about Marley? I thought you’d be sick of hearing about the place, Mr. Commanding Officer.” You giggled while he tried to grumble out a response, the food still in his mouth.

“I could never get tired of hearing about you, doll. Now, c’mon tell me.” His expression softened when he looked at you.

“Don’t do that.” You swallowed thickly, the pet name ringing in your ears.

“Do what?” He wiped the crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand, making you raise your eyebrows and suppress a laugh. He tilted his head and looked at you with a confused expression.

“Say stuff that makes me feel like I got the wind knocked out of my lungs.” You turned your face, attempting to conceal the embarrassment that had taken over your features. Shutting your eyes, you waited for him to laugh at you, but he never did. Hesitantly you turned to face him and found him staring at you, his hazel eyes sparkling.

“You want to know what my diagnosis for that is?” He leaned in, his face inches away from yours. You struggled to meet his gaze.

“What?” It came out breathy; Jean’s eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to your eyes.

“I think you like me. Wanna know what I recommend as treatment?” He smiled when you quickly nodded at his words, the conversation you were having wiped from your mind.

The distance between the two of you closed in; his lips moulded to yours as he captured them in a tender kiss. The taste of the sweet cheesecake was still present on his lips, and you wrapped his hand around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Jean smiled against your lips before pulling away.

“Guess my lessons finally paid off, Kirstein.” A slight blush tinted Jean’s cheeks at your comment, and he grasped your free hand with his own, bringing it to his lips, peppering your knuckles with soft kisses.

—

“Are you listening?”

The Commander’s voice made you sit up straight; you offered a quick apology to them before glancing over at Jean, who was shifting in his seat.

The tension was palpable in the room as the Commander continued to explain the fragility of the situation at hand. With Eren abandoning the scouts, intense scrutiny was placed on the Commander and the Marleyan volunteers — the latter of which included you.

You stared at your hands which rested in your lap, gaze focused downward to avoid the venomous looks that were being thrown in your direction. However, it wasn’t anger that filled your chest but rather a certain heaviness. You couldn’t blame them. Centuries of mistrust and hatred fueled this. They had every right to doubt your intentions, despite them being in no way harmful or deceitful in nature.

Gathering enough courage to lift your head, you locked eyes with Jean, and your heart sank deeper into a pool of anguish.

You were a fool.

A fool for thinking that the world would spare you from the inevitable heartbreak that faced you both.

You hoped that Jean wouldn’t be able to see through the front you were putting up, trying your best to remain neutral, not to worry him during such an important meeting. He ran his fingers through his hair, eyes shifting back to Commander Hange. You knew that if you were worrying about the current predicament, there was no doubt that he probably was as well.

Shifting your focus back on your lap, you ran your thumb over your bare ring finger to soothe yourself for the remainder of the meeting.

Welcoming the cool breeze as you stepped out of the imposing building, you allowed your shoulders to relax. The momentary relief was short-lived, however, as two soldiers trailed behind your footsteps. They were getting closer and closer until you turned around and saw a familiar figure dismiss them.

Jean approached you; although his expression was stiff and stoic, his eyes still held the same tenderness for you as they did years prior. Before accompanying you through the gates and on to the stone-laden path towards your clinic, he gave you a curt nod.

You knew better than to reach out and grasp his hand, interlock your fingers together, despite the ever-growing itch you had to seek comfort in his touch.

Sparing a few glances in his direction, you saw his jaw was clenched — the meeting still heavy on his mind.

Rounding the corner, the steps leading to the clinic came into view; it was secluded enough for both of you to drop the act. You walked over and sat on the steps and watched as Jean sat next to you.

A tired sigh tumbled from his lips, hair falling in front of his face, obstructing you from seeing his pained expression. You reached over and brushed it past his ear, pressing a kiss onto his shoulder before resting your forehead against it.

The both of you sat in silence before Jean took hold of your left hand, thumb brushing over the same spot you were moments prior.

“You know, I was worried you only said yes out of pity for me. I thought you only saw me as some poor Eldian-” Raising your head from Jean’s shoulder, you watched with concern in your eyes.

“Jean, you know I don’t care about that stuff.”

“I know that, doll. I just, just, couldn’t believe you would want to marry me.” His eyes remained focused on your hand until you released it from his grasp. You moved it to his face, turning it to make him face you.

Grazing over his cheekbones, you gave him a soft smile, “I still want to. Marry you that is. Ring or not, the end of the fucking world or not, I’m still going to marry you.” Letting out a chuckle, you pressed your forehead against his.

He turned his head to kiss your palm, voice coming out as a whisper, “I can’t make any promises, and I know you’re scared, but know that I love you more than anything, darling.”

—

Smoothing your hands over your attire, for the umpteenth time doing so, you walked over to join Armin and the others from the ship’s bow.

You instantly smiled when you felt a warm hand on the small of your back, head turning to look at your husband.

“You could have spent a smidge more time fixing your hair, don’t you think so?” Jean shook his head and let out a laugh.

“Gotta look the best for my wife.” He shot you a wink, making you roll your eyes at him despite the action making your mind foggy — even now, he still managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl with a silly little crush.

You pushed into his side, hand snaking up his back as you approached your friends.

“Nervous?”

“You know it.” He removed himself from your side to lean into the railing, but he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you closer to his body.

Jean brought your hand to his lips before he placed a gentle kiss over the cool metal that wrapped around your finger. He flashed you a grin, “but I’m glad I have you here with me.”

a/n: this took me a long time to finish, so I apologize for it taking so long !! I hope you enjoyed it !!

taglist: @c0urtn3y, @clean-soap, @depressedbisexual, @dai-tsukki-desu, @conniesspringersgf, @glittrkink, @amnxsia, @kentos-kinfolk, @ally22042000, @just-that-one-kid00, @jeansbabycake, @fiaficsxo, @aracynthos

click here to join my taglist

As always, please leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed this; I appreciate it lots <33

271 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 3 years

Text

Meant to Be (Charlie Weasley x OC)

What happens when Bill brings home a girl and Charlie is completely awestruck by her?

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, curse words

CHAPTER 6

Charlie

One year later...

“Good morning.” I sang opening the door to the nursery.

“Charlie, hi!” Tina almost banged her head on the counter, getting up. “You’re early.”

“Did you sleep here again?” I frowned at her.

“No. I just dropped a bottle on the floor.” She was one of the clumsiest people I know. She reminded me so much of my friend Tonks from Hogwarts, except that her hair was black and not hot pink. “You know he can live without you for more than 5 hours.”

“I know. But I missed him and I couldn’t sleep anyway.” I looked at the clock on the wall.

Half-past five in the morning. I already came in later than usual.

“Okay. Let me take you to your son.” She chuckled and stepped away from the counter. “If he’s still sleeping and you’ll wake him up, you’ll be dealing with him, I’m warning you.”

“I know. I don’t mind.” I smiled.

I followed her through the corridor and waited for her to unlock the door.

“It definitely doesn’t sound like he’s sleeping.” I placed my hands on my ears to muffle the sound.

“He’s doing really well this week.” Tina said proudly.

“Hi, Aami. How are you, little guy?” I approached the fence slowly, my hand in front of me.

“Perhaps a few more days and we’ll be able to do a gender reveal.” I turned around at Tina’s words, sparks in my eyes.

“We can do a gender reveal cake then.” I giggled to myself.

“What?” Tina asked confused.

“It’s something Muggles do, I’m told.” I kneeled next to him, admiring his every move.

“Your dad told you that?” She laughed.

I hummed in reply, not taking my eyes off Aami.

“Isn’t he the most beautiful thing you have ever seen, Tina?” I said in a dreamy voice.

“I would say he got it after you, but it looks like he only got your stubborn personality.” She joked.

“Ha-ha.” I rolled my eyes at her. “Do you think he’ll ever fly?”

I slowly extended my arm through the fence so I could touch his beautiful crimson wing. Aami was collateral damage when Victor Krum accidentally made the Chinese Fireball step on her eggs while he was retrieving his golden egg. Aami’s egg was cracked but he somehow survived thanks to Tina.

She was the nurse who took care of eggs and helped premature hatchlings to grow strong. Then we had a team who would train them and help them fly. The mother dragon is usually supposed to do that but if the baby doesn’t hatch next to her, she doesn’t want it. That’s where our team steps in and helps them with everything, from feeding to firebreathing and flying.

Aami’s left wing was badly hurt due to the egg’s collision with the ground and was growing slower than his right one. Even though Tina was optimistic and said that he is showing progress every single day, we still didn’t know if his wing would ever fully grow. If it doesn’t, he would never be able to fly.

I don’t blame Viktor for what happened that day. I was watching him retrieving the egg and I know he didn’t do it on purpose. It happens. It was more our fault that we brought our mother Fireball to the tournament. It was a bad idea.

She was one of the most stubborn and untamed dragons but the Ministry insisted. We shouldn’t have allowed it. She was too attached to her eggs and she snapped, stomping on them in the process.

Aami’s wing might be damaged but we considered him lucky, even though his mother rejected him once we started taking care of him. At first, I was helping Tina because I felt bad for the little guy and I was really hoping that he’ll make it but he grew on me so quickly. With his fire-coughing and his playfulness and his green eyes. He was perfect.

“I don’t know, Charlie. His wing is still underdeveloped and even though it’s growing slowly it’s still not even close to where it should be for his age.” Tina’s face was creased in a sad expression.

I know she cared for him just as much as I did.

“I’ll be here every day until I’ll be able to take you flying.” I turned back to Aami and whispered to him.

“He’s lucky to have you.” Tina stepped closer to us and placed her hand on my shoulder. “You’ll make a great dad one day.”

“Thanks.” I murmured.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I stood up and reached for the bag I brought with me. “I got you some fresh chicken blood and 10 bottles of brandy. I know it’s not much but…”

“It’ll do until the next supply crate tomorrow. Thank you, Charlie.” She took the bag from me with a smile on her face.

She took out one bottle and a bag of chicken blood, gave it to me, and exited the room to give us some alone time.

I carefully took the empty bowl away from Aami and poured the contents from the bottle and the bag into it and returned it to him. I laughed at his hungry eyes.

“Here you go. Have at it.” I sat down next to his small enclosure and hugged my legs, placing my head on my knees. I felt so calm when I was watching him eat. It was my new favorite activity. Is this how it feels like when you have children? Because if it does I won’t be able to take my eyes off them.

I stayed with him until he fell asleep. I got up and quietly exited the room and went back to the nursery reception.

“There he is. Our Fireball Mother!” Peter mocked me, leaned on the counter.

“Good morning, Peter.” I ignored his remark.

Ever since I started taking care of Aami he and the mates from my team have been teasing me. Taking care of baby dragons is something women usually do around here and they found it funny how invested I was. I didn’t care because I knew they would never understand me and I enjoyed doing it so much that the fact that they called me the Fireball Mother didn’t even bother me.

“Should we transfer you to the nursery, since you’re here every morning?” He smirked at me.

“Don’t tempt me.” I pointed my finger at him.

“Your team misses you.” He looked up at the clock above me.

10 past seven.

“Fuck, I’m late for work!” I started towards the door.

I’m never late for work!

“Relax.” Peter extended his arm to stop me. “I know you were with the little Fireball. Count it as work.” He winked at me.

“Thank you, Peter.” I said thankfully.

“If you want I can make this your part-time for the time being. I’m sure your team will be able to handle the workload without you until we move Aami to his habitat.”

Did I mention that he was the best boss ever?

“I would love to, but I can handle both, Peter. Thank you for the offer.” I smiled faintly and took a step forward.

“Look, Charlie.” He stopped me yet again. “I know we are teasing you all the time but it’s only because you’re the youngest even though you are the most talented. I know this means a lot to you and since you didn’t go home for Christmas this year I couldn’t help but notice that you are working yourself even more than you did last year.”

He wasn’t wrong but I stayed quiet.

I didn’t know what to tell him. I had my reasons why I hadn’t taken a day off or visited my family for any of the holidays for the past year.

“How about you join your team at 8 for the next few weeks and be with the little guy in the morning. Call it your time off.” He winked at me. “I don’t know what goes on in that red-haired head of yours but it can’t be healthy to work yourself so hard.”

I blinked at him. I didn’t know how to reply. I didn’t expect this from him. Peter was the oldest in the Sanctuary. He was 48 and I looked up to him more than to anyone else here but we never talked about stuff like this. He teased me that I should take time off and he joked that I was a workaholic a couple of times but I never actually thought he was worried about me.

I know they teased me all the time because I was the youngest of the group and I didn’t mind that they did. We had a great time and I loved them all. But I was taken aback by his short speech.

I was fine.

I was doing okay.

I had the job that I always wanted and now I was taking care of this little guy which brought me so much joy.

What else could I want from my life?

My daily routine starts around five in the morning. I make myself some coffee and breakfast. Hike up the hill to watch the sunrise. Go to the nursery to check up on Aami and help Tina if she needs anything.

I meet my team at seven in front of my cottage and we make a full circle around the Reserve feeding the dragons. We finish around 12 every day so we go down to the tavern for launch. Then we go check on the mother dragons and see how the eggs are progressing. Then I assign a dragon to each in my team and we go and train them until four. We meet back up at my hut and go and feed them again.

Once we are done I go home to change my clothes and I either go for a run or another hike. I shower when I come back. Get some dinner and on the weekends we all grab a beer which usually ends up with me waking with a headache because it never stops after just one pint.

It might sound boring to some but I loved my work. It was busy but I love every minute of it. It’s true that I don’t have a lot of free time or take many days off but I really don’t need it. The hikes in the morning and the evening are my alone time and I don’t need more than that. I don’t even know what I would do if I had more time off.

“You know if it’s doable I would love to spend more time with the baby Fireball.” I finally answered him after a short pause.

He only nodded and finally let me go.

“Do you happen to know where my wife is?” He asked when I was almost out the door.

“She’s probably in one of the nursery rooms.” I smiled at him and exited.

Peter and Tina were one of the few couples in our Reserve. A lot of us are single, some have partners that work other jobs and have long-distance relationships. Most of us don’t think about it a lot because we don’t have that much time or the liberty to settle down.

We don’t get many recruits and when we do it’s mostly men so every time we get a new female Dragonologist everybody flips out and either scare her away or get slapped in the face. The latter happens more often.

“Where have you been, Charlie?” Andrew asked as soon as I reached them.

“Have you been looking after your son?” Theo made a kissy face.

I will murder him, I swear.

“For a matter of fact, I was.” I stuck my tongue at him. If he can be 35 and act like a child, I can be 22 and do so too. “I made a deal with Peter to join you mates at 8 so I can spend more time with Aami.”

“But you’re our team leader.” Evan looked puzzled.

“Can’t live without Charlie, Evan?” Theo mocked him. “We have the same routine every morning, I think we can manage.” He winked at me.

“It’s only until Aami can start his training.” I assured them.

I loved being the leader of a team and it was touching how much they listened to me.

I worked with 4 men. Evan, who was 28, was the only one besides me that was under 30. As I said before Theo is 35, John is 40 and Andrew is 32. Peter joins us occasionally in case we need a helping hand but they are all very skilled and good at what they do so we rarely have any problems.

I was so nervous the day when Peter told me he picked me as a group leader. I felt neither worthy nor qualified for the position and I thought they would all hate me for being their boss since I knew they were all older than me but nobody cared.

They obeyed and respected me since day one and I admired that about the Sanctuary. Here, age doesn’t matter. Talent, ambition, and skills matter. If you show how hard-working you are and that you are willing to learn and are good at your job, you can quickly earn everyone’s respect.

I told them that I would make a plan in the evening and pin it to the door for them to look through it in the morning so that they will know what to do while I’m in the nursery. Then we went to the storage room to get our protective gear and the food and we started our day.

—

“That’s it, mates.” I took off my gloves. “We’re done for today.”

“I can’t tell you how much I will enjoy my shower.” John smelled his shirt.

“That’s what happens when you’re not looking where you’re going and you fall in dragon dung.” Theo laughed at him and the rest followed.

“Meet you down for a pint, Charlie?” Andrew asked, his hand on my shoulder.

“Sure.” I nodded and we started walking down the hill.

“Charlie!” We all turned around when we heard my name.

“What do you have for me, Ernie?” I grinned at him.

Ernie worked in our Admission Office and was usually the one who brought us mail in the morning since all the letters usually arrived at the Sanctuary Owlery. It was for the safety of the owls so the dragons wouldn’t accidentally make them their dinner.

“I couldn’t find you this morning so I hold on to your letters.” He explained.

He handed me a handful of them. I tucked them under my arm.

“Thanks, Ernie.” I waved them all goodbye and made my way to my home.

As I was walking I looked through the envelopes. I couldn’t help myself. I couldn’t wait until I was sitting in my kitchen. I couldn’t pretend that I was waiting for a letter.

Tonks’. Mum’s. Ron’s. Ginny’s. Freddie and Georgie wrote separately to me which rarely happens. Nothing from Bill…again. I sighed and unlocked my door.

I put the letters on my coffee table and went straight into the shower. I didn’t feel like a hike. I wanted to go and grab a drink and be with my friends as soon as possible. I didn’t know what would happen to me if I was alone with my thoughts.

“Charles, what took you so long!” Theo slurred when I sat down next to him.

“How long was I in the shower that he’s already drunk?” I laughed and looked at Andrew and John sitting opposite us.

“What did I miss?” Evan sat next to me and sipped on his beer.

“Charlie is here, pretty boy!” Theo sang.

I shook my head. This is going to be a long night.

“I have noticed.” Evan laughed. “How is he already that drunk?” He leaned to me.

“I think the alcohol never leaves his system.” I joked.

“Look Charlie, it’s your girlfriend.” John smirked at me and when Andrew saw who he was talking about, he covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

I turned around and saw April standing at the bar. I sunk in my seat.

Oh, dear Merlin let her not see me!

“Will you ever stop?” I rolled my eyes.

“Who are we talking about?” Theo leaned on my shoulder and hiccupped.

“Nobody.” I answer quickly. “They are delusional.”

“We’re talking about April.” John said and winked at me.

Theo turned around so abruptly that I thought he was going to fall off the bench.

“April! Come here, April!” He shouted toward the bar.

April looked in our direction, smiled softly at me, and waved.

“Will you keep it down!” I smacked him over the head. “If she comes here, I will strangle you, Theodore!”

“You’re the one who slept with her.” Andrew mocked.

“Twice.” John made a kissy face.

“What is the topic tonight, mates?” Peter motioned with his hand that John and Andrew should make some room for him.

“We’re teasing Charlie about sleeping with April, twice.” Evan said innocently, holding two fingers in front of my face.

He was the one who was usually quiet when the rest of my mates were making fun out of me but I know he was enjoying it just as much.

“Twice?” Peter frowned. “Didn’t you sleep with her three times?”

I slammed my hand on my forehead. “They didn’t have to know that, Peter!”

Evan, John, and Andrew all looked at me, their eyes widened and they burst out laughing.

“Charlie, mate.” Theo leaned on his hand and looked me in the eyes. “Didn’t you say she’s bad in bed? What you sleeping with her so much for?”

“Are you in love, Charles?” John made a heart with his hand and extended his arms over the table.

“Bugger off!” I rolled my eyes. “I make bad decisions when I’m drunk.”

I then turned to Theo who was still leaning on his hand but had his eyes closed now. “It’s not that she’s bad in bed it’s just…” I swallowed hard. I didn’t know how to explain it because I knew that no matter what I say they’ll laugh at me again. “…we don’t have the right chemistry. There’s no passion.”

No connection, I wanted to say bit my tongue.

“Have you looked around, Charlie?” Theo laughed. “You don’t have that much to choose from.” The hand that he was leaning on finally gave in and he slammed his head to the table.

We all burst out laughing including him.

“Thanks. I’ll rather stay single.” I patted his head, pretending to care if he got hurt.

“You’re still young, Charlie. Never forget what you want and never settle for less.” Peter lifted his glass and we all followed his lead.

Never settle for less. It’s going to be hard to find someone after what I experienced last year.

#harry potter fanfiction #charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x mc #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world

23 notes · View notes

ceo-of-daichi · 4 years

Text

Characters - Sawamura Daichi x Fem!Reader

Summary - Lockdown had really affected your social life and daily routine, luckily a certain someone was willing to help you get your life back to somewhat normal. What will happen when you start catching feelings?

Genre - Fluff

Warnings - Slight mentions of anxiety

Word Count - 2.3k

A/N - Back again with another Daichi fic! Are you surprised, probably not i got a one man mind lmao. This one isn’t as long as the last but still as fluffy, hopefully you enjoy reading it :) p.s. this was almost called Toothpaste I blame Jas👀

Covid-19 had really flipped your year in a completely different direction to what you were expecting. You started the year hoping to finish your last year of high-school on a high, helping the volleyball team get to nationals and getting into university. However, the world clearly had a different plan for you, when the virus first started you didn’t think much of it. Why would you? It was only when the announcement came that the country was going into lockdown that your brain finally registered what was actually happening. Being the slightly more extroverted individual you thrived off seeing your friends, plus both your parents worked as nurses. You were going to be alone.

The first few weeks went by pretty fast, managing to keep up a routine by going out for runs and making yourself eat at certain times. Even keeping in touch with your friends from the boys volleyball team as well as Kiyoko, one of your closest friends. However, after this fairly stable period you had a really bad day. Nothing went your way, blender… broken, guess you weren't having a smoothie this morning. After that frustrating incident Tanaka and Noya decided to start poking fun at you in the group chat, which you were NOT in the mood for. Group chat… Muted. It was also raining extremely heavy so you decided maybe a well deserved rest day was in order, throwing on the TV you flopped down on the couch to start your film marathon.

5am. That was the time it was when you finally passed out on the couch. How did you end up staying up that late, Harry Potter. Why you thought it was a good idea to start watching the films you don’t know, but you managed to watch them all, all 19 hours of them. That was all it took to mess your routine up for the next month, not waking up till 2-3pm everyday just to lounge around. Barely keeping in touch with anyone, you hadn’t talked in the groupchat for close to 3 weeks, hardly even thinking about eating anything but snacks.

Luckily you had a saving grace, Daichi. After going MIA , the third year’s started to get worried about you, especially Kiyoko. She had dmed you multiple times and got nothing in return, mainly because you saw the messages but forgot to reply. You were a whole ass mess to put it plainly.

~ 3rd Years Group Chat ~

Kiyoko - I’m worried about [y/n]...

Suga - Tell me about it, she hasn’t been in the chat for weeks

Daichi - Have you tried dming her?

Kiyoko - She is ignoring me, she hasn’t replied to one of my messages

Asahi - Maybe she’s just busy?

Daichi - In the middle of lockdown…

Suga - Yeah thats unlikely

Kiyoko - Can one of you dm her as well? I just want to make sure she’s ok?

Daichi - I can... i’ll let you know if she replies and if she doesn’t Asahi or Suga can try

Having received a concerned message from Daichi, you realised how much you had lost track of everything and anything. Replying to both him and Kiyoko apologising and explaining you had just forgotten to press send. Although Daichi wanted to believe that was the case he couldn’t, instead of being upfront about it though he started messaging you throughout the day. Just small things asking if you had eaten and if you were staying hydrated, little did he know that this helped you get back into a better rhythm of lockdown life.

You slowly fixed your sleep schedule and got back to eating 3 meals a day. Although you hadn’t managed to get back into running, your talks with Daichi slowly got more frequent and for longer periods of time. The more you talked to him the more motivated you started to feel, eventually you got back into your running routine. It no longer became the odd message to make sure you were eating, but full day conversations about anything you could think of. Eventually you started relying on talking to him to cure your lockdown loneliness, a day without talking to him was not a good day for you. Daichi being the fairly observant person that he is, started to realise and eventually bought it up.

Daichi :) - Hey [y/n], I've been meaning to bring something up with you, you mind if we call?

[y/n] - Yeah sure Dai, just call me whenever i don’t exactly have anything going on

Receiving this was like a bullet to the chest, worrying what it could be about you pulled your knees up to your chest steadying your breathing. As you were lost in your head, your phone started ringing. Answering it you heard his voice for the first time in close to 3 months, it was music to your ears. Slowly over these 2 months you had grown fond of the boy, but you had quickly dismissed the idea of anything forming between each other. Both having different priorities in life, being scared of rejection also didn’t help.

After an hour and a half of deep conversation, a couple tears shed but more laughter at the end. You collapsed backwards onto your bed, he had found out everything. How your parents were barely home, always doing long shifts at the hospital, how you felt like you had no one during those 3 weeks you were MIA. Most importantly though you had confessed that talking to him was like receiving a warm hug. It's exactly what you needed at this time, obviously you would love an actual hug as well but that's pretty hard from a 2m distance.

~ 1 week later ~

Your eyes went wide as they announced on the news that lockdown was starting to be lifted, you were now allowed to meet up with people outside at a safe distance. Smiling you quickly messaged Daichi telling him how excited you were that restrictions were finally being lifted.

Daichi :) - That's Great [y/n]!! So.. you fancy going on a socially distanced pic-nic tomorrow? Don’t worry about bringing anything but yourself. I got the rest covered, obviously if you're ok with that?😃

Reading the text over multiple times, pinching yourself to make sure it was real. You hadn’t seen Daichi in close to 3 months, and within that time you had developed feelings. What would it be like seeing him in person now, generally being awkward with past crushes, you started to worry about scaring him away. You couldn’t do that, you needed him. Taking a couple paces around the room thinking about what to reply, before realising you were most definitely overthinking it. He didn’t see you that way…

[y/n] - Yeah sure! Just let me know a time and place, i will be there

Daichi - 1pm at the park round the corner from your house?

[y/n] - See you there!!

The next morning you woke up with a huge smile plastered on your face, excited for the day ahead. Jumping out of bed and rummaging through your wardrobe you pulled out a cute summer dress, not too dressy but showed you put effort in none the less. The summer dress was red and was covered in little white flowers, you had only worn it a couple times and decided it needed another outing.

Walking down your road and around the corner to the park, the wind hitting your face made you feel like maybe the world was getting back to normal. As you walked through the gates, you noticed Daichi stood over by a slightly more wooded area, smiling as you made your way over to him. Greeting each other you forgot how much his laugh and smile made it seem like nothing else mattered, making your heart beat faster in your chest. He ended up leading you through the woods and into a small opening which had 2 picnic blankets laid down at the appropriate distance. As you got closer you noticed that there were sandwiches, fruit and small cakes on both.

‘You didn’t have to do this Daichi you know? A simple sandwich would have been fine?’ You started smiling at him, no one had ever gone to this much effort for you and honestly you felt bad. ‘It must have taken you a bit to set this up…’

‘Oh no, honestly don’t worry about it… i wanted to, neither have been out in a while so i figured why not?’ The laugh that came out sounded almost nervous, which confused you slightly… Was he really as nervous as you?

The afternoon went by quicker than both of you wanted. Chatting, cracking jokes and eating, which the food Daichi had made was really good. You had asked why he had never told you about his clear culinary skills, apparently this was the first time he had attempted something like this. Trying not to get too far ahead of yourself when he had mentioned this, even though you were freaking out. Mainly chatting about quarantine life and how you missed being out of lockdown, being able to socialise freely and do whatever you wanted.

You only realised how long you had been with Daichi when it started to get dark, letting him know you should probably be getting back. Even though in reality you could have stayed there for the rest of the night and into the early morning. Helping him pack everything up occasionally sneaking glances at him, wishing you could pull him into a hug or give him a peck on the cheek. Just to let him know how much he had helped you over the past month. Sadly you couldn’t, once everything had been packed away Daichi (being the gentleman that he is) offered to walk you back.

‘I had a really good afternoon, thank you for this Daichi…’ Smiling at him as you walk up to your front door.

‘Would you want to do something like this again maybe?’ The way he looked at you, his eyes almost pleading, with a slight smile gracing his lips. This made your heart instantly melt.

‘If you want to? I would love that!’

‘[y/n]... why would i ask if i didn’t want to?’ Raising a brow at you playfully.

‘Shut up you dork, i’ll see you soon then!’ Laughing as you walk through your door giving him a wave before closing it and sliding down it on the other side, trying to calm your heart that was about to burst through your chest.

Another couple weeks past, you had only met up with Daichi once more, but both were still texting all day with the occasional call. You also had met up with Kiyoko within these weeks, explaining your situation. She thought it was really funny how much you were worrying about it because to her it seemed obvious that he returned your feelings. You were still completely denying this fact though, it was something your brain really couldn’t fathom. However, the next day lockdown was reduced once again, you were now allowed to have people in your house from other families.

Being as excitable as you were and the fact your parents were out almost all of the time, you rattled off a text to Daichi asking him if he fancied a chill movie marathon night? Both of you deciding to watch The Hobbit trilogy later on in the evening. Hopping up from the couch you started cleaning the house, preparing snacks and setting up pillows as well as blankets on the couch. Seen as though it was a chill night you had decided on a pair of grey sweats and a plain v-neck t-shirt, that was tied so it wasn’t too long.

You had just finished setting everything up when there was a knock at the door, practically running to get it. Opening the door to his smiling face made something snap and you don’t know what came over yourself as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around him. Luckily he was quick to catch you.

‘What did i do to deserve this hug?’ He chuckles to himself as you nuzzle into his neck.

‘Everything. Daichi I owe you so much, you don’t even understand’ Letting out a sigh, he closes the door and carries you over to the couch. Placing you down next to him as you pout at him, sad that the hug was over so soon. You had waited for so long to be wrapped up in his arms and when you finally get the chance it barely lasts 2 minutes.

‘Listen Daichi… you have helped me so much over the past few months, and honestly…’ Taking a breath to figure out how to phrase your next words, however before you could say anything else he had pulled you back into his chest.

‘I like you too dork…’ Frozen in his arms, how long had he known… How long had he liked you back? All you could do in that moment was snake your arms round him and enjoy each other's company as he started the first film.

~ BONUS ~

‘How long have you liked me Daichi?’ You question him half way through the first film.

‘About 6 months give or take why?’ He turns his attention towards you and gives you a quick head kiss, before looking back to the film.

‘6 months… that's before we went into lockdown..?’

He hums, smirking at your clearly oblivious nature, as your brain was spiralling thinking about how many signals you missed.

Tags: @super-noya @stcrryskies @iwaxme @bb-noya @vventure @ardorwrites-hq-mha @scorpiosanssexy

#Daichi #sawamura daichi #daichi owns my whole ass heart #haikyuu #daichi #daichi sawamura #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic #daichi x reader #sawamura daichi x you #i am in love with this man #fanfic #oneshot #hq writing #daichi writing #daichi x you #haikyuu x you #hq daichi #hq anime

116 notes · View notes

justreadingfics · 4 years

Text

Looking For A Heartbeat (23/26)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Series Summary: You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. It’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?

Word Count: 7K

Warnings for this chapter: angst and an author that really doesn’t wanna spoil anything. If there’s anything you absolutely can’t read and you wanna make sure it’s not in the chapter, dm me.

A/N: Thank you @suz-123 for being so amazing. I’m finally with my new laptop so I hope to be able to write more frequently. I’m really sorry for being such a messy and slow writer, but thank you for staying with me. I really hope you like this chapter, it’s a special one!

Perfect.

That’s the conclusion you come to while you walk around the terrace of your apartment, filled with balloons, happy birthday signs, a huge table with cake and all kinds of colored sweets, matching the Unicorn theme decorations and a lot of different toys.

Summer’s first birthday.

Looking back, you can’t believe it’s already been a year, it feels like everything is happening too fast. A lot of firsts happened in that time: her first tooth, the first time she crawled towards Bucky, her first haircut, the first word… That was a special one. The three of you were in the living room and the TV was on while you and Bucky played with her on the carpet. At some point, your baby daughter´s attention diverted from the toys and she pointed at the TV, and a perfectly pronounced “mama” came out of her lips. You and Bucky looked at each other with widened eyes, and, while she kept repeating her very first word, you turned around to see your image on the TV, dirty and battered, at a press conference after a particularly tough mission. Needless to say, your heart turned into a puddle and you attacked her chubby cheeks with thousands of kisses pulling out giggles from the baby. You could tell daddy was happy but a little bit jealous, just a little bit… however, only a couple of days after and she added “dada” to her vocabulary, making a crying mess of her softie dad.

The one first thing she has yet to go through is her first step. She’ll get there, though. No need to rush. Dr. Nadine has explained more than once that her enhanced DNA could show how far it would affect her abilities at any moment throughout her development and they had no way to estimate exactly how and if it would happen. For now, you’re thankful she’s a healthy baby and has her own pace on things.

You can’t wait to see her little face when she sees her first party. You and Bucky decided to go for the unicorn theme because that stuffed unicorn, the first one Bucky got her when she wasn't even born yet, it’s her absolute favorite and they're inseparable. The poor thing is old, dirty and torn in one too many places, but when you tried to replace it with a brand new one, all you gained in return was tears and a very irate baby.

Yeah, she’ll love it.

As you supervise the last details, checking if the decorations, music, food and drinks are all set and waiting for the guests, Bucky gets Summer ready. She's slept all morning so hopefully she´ll enjoy her party properly. You decided to celebrate it at your own home, since it’s big enough to accommodate the number of guests and, at the same time, it’s cozier than the party rooms available at the Tower. You opened the living room’s glass doors, which goes to the terrace, moved the furniture to allow more space and it worked out pretty well. It’ll be good, you’re confident.

The timing is also perfect since the team does need some good distraction… the last month has been tough. Zemo got out of prison and everything led you guys to believe HYDRA is behind it and helping him hide. At what purpose you still have to figure out. But the thing is, there’s nothing on his whereabouts yet and, in the meantime, you and your friends will stop everything to celebrate your little girl’s first year.

“Hey, mama! Look who’s ready to shine.”

You’re organizing cone hats over the table at the terrace when our gaze lifts to Bucky walking into the living room holding the cutest – and most dolled up - baby you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, my God.” You cover your mouth with both hands and rush to meet them, “Aren’t you the most beautiful birthday girl ever?” You take Summer in your arms while gushing at her.

She brings her hands to the pair of pigtails over her head, as if to show you them, “Dada,” she happily babbles.

The two proud parents laugh and Bucky pecks her cheek to her absolute delight.

“Yes, Dada made your hair really pretty and chose you the most gorgeous outfit, hasn’t he?” She does look incredibly endearing in a pink tutu dress with a few shades of blue on the skirt alluding to the party, blue little party shoes matching the two tiny bows adorning her pigtails. Bucky always makes sure to pamper her and on her first birthday you expected nothing less.

“She looks cute anyway.” He shrugs, but the pride is obvious on his smile and puffed chest. “You look beautiful, too.” He adds softly as his eyes drop to the floral summer dress you chose for the occasion.

You swallow as a wave of warmth reaches your cheeks, “You, too.” He sure does handsome as ever in his customary jeans and white t-shirt. Despite still not going to missions, he keeps his daily workouts, whose results are evident on the muscles straining the fabric covering his arms and chest. Since Summer loves to play with his hair – a preference she may have gotten from you - he’s been keeping his locks in a longer length, right above his shoulders. God, he’s beautiful.

“One year… can you believe it?” He says softly, taking you out of your gawking and stepping closer, bringing his hand over yours on Summer’s back.

You sigh deeply at the warm touch before whispering, “One year…”

“I don't remember ever being this happy…” His voice is tender and low while he speaks, “Looks like we’ve made it, right? Together.” He bores his deeply blue eyes on yours while slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

You sigh and tighten your lips in a small smile as his touch sends shivers through your skin. You don’t remember ever being this happy either but you’ve been thinking more and more about what Wanda said at Pepper’s party. What exactly have you been doing all this time? What are you? A couple? Friends? Co-parents? To be honest, you think you’ve been leaning a lot on the excuse of parenting Summer to not address and hold back your true feelings and, at the same time, to stay close to him as much as you can… How long can you keep up with this?

A loud squeak makes you notice Summer squirming in your arms. You know exactly what she wants, “Ahm, I think I’ll nurse her before everyone arrives, or else she’ll get too agitated,” you say and Bucky nods in agreement, seeming lost on his own thoughts as well.

~~~

It's a cheerful and loud afternoon. All your friends are there, along with some parents with their kids, whom you and Bucky have met when you started taking Summer to the nearest park regularly. You do it mostly together, but when you are on missions he goes alone and Summer, being as sociable and lovely as she can be, has become fast friends with a lot of kids, even the older ones, so it made sense to you to invite everyone who loves her to the party.

Speaking of the little girl, after you nursed her and the guests started arriving, you almost don’t get to hold her anymore, as she goes from lap to lap when she’s not playing with her friends or attached to Thor’s hips. The God of Thunder stopped by just to attend her party, which makes her so happy, reaching out for him to grab her and pointing to all kinds of directions so he can take her and also play with her friends, for all the kids delight. It’s like the one year old just knows he’s everyone’s favorite and wants to share her uncle with them.

Harry and the twins are there, too, being some of the firsts guests to arrive. It turns out Bucky was the only one who didn’t know about Harry and Nat. Everyone had already caught on when they decided to make it official and it was absolutely no big news. Even for the now five year old twins. Luna just couldn’t understand why they were treating something she already knew for so long as such a big deal when the couple put on a special picnic to tell them. Auntie Nat was very proud and, for her relief and Harry’s, she has been a success with both Luna and Jon.

The party has been going on for a little more than an hour when you finally get to pick Summer up to check if she needs a change or something to eat or drink. Across the room, you spot Bucky talking to Steve. Seeing you picking up Summer, he raises his eyebrows as if asking if he was needed. You dismiss him with a wave and he smiles, while you sit on the couch, Summer in your arms. The bell rings and, as you make sure Summer doesn’t need a change yet, putting her standing on your lap and taking a peek beneath her diaper while the one-year old babbles and bounces on her chubby legs, Bucky goes for the door. You can’t imagine who it might be, since everyone you remember inviting is already there.

“Hey, you made it.” Bucky greets the person in front of him.

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Your heart and your hands stop at the voice you haven’t heard for a long time.

Your gaze follows the sounds of cheerful greeting and meet the sight by the door. Everything and everyone else around fade out as the two of them say hello to each other and Bucky invites her in.

Anna.

He doesn’t seem surprised by her presence. He seems… comfortable. Even…happy to see her. Did he invite her? Without telling you? When?

You don’t even know how, but you’re already standing up, Summer securely attached to your hip, when the pair starts walking towards you, huge smiles on their faces.

“Here’s the birthday girl,” Bucky announces when they approach you. They’re both smiling still so you put on one for yourself. Or at least you try to, if you succeed you’re not sure. Bucky seems relaxed… you see no disturbance on his demeanor despite the turmoil surfacing inside you, nothing that could hint he is as thrown as you are by Anna’s unexpected – at least for you- presence.

“Hello, happy birthday, Summer.”

It’s nothing but a reflex when you hold Summer tighter in your arms and take a tiny, almost unnoticeable step back when Anna stretches her arms with a wrapped box on her hands and greets your daughter. Her wide smile slips a bit as her widening gaze flashes up at you.

It seems like your step back wasn’t as tiny and unnoticeable for her.

“Ahm, hi, Anna.” You force a calm voice out of you, “Thank you so much,” You reach for the gift, “I’ll put it with the other ones for Summer to open in a bit.” You nod as a vein pulses on your neck, “Ahm, it’s been a while.” You add, trying hard to keep your voice steady.

Summer starts smacking the box repeatedly as delighted loud sounds come out of her lips, making her dad smile at her and move to cup her cheek lovingly. Both dad and daughter oblivious to the tension thickening the air.

Anna’s eyelids drop and her gaze grounds to the floor. She nibbles on her lower lip, fidgeting with her fingers…thinking… it feels like she’s searching for something to say but is failing…

“Oh, yeah,” Bucky says, still focusing on Summer as she succeeds to steal the box with Anna’s gift from your hands and starts shaking it. “I ran into Anna in that coffee shop nearby the park the other day, can you believe that? It was two or three weeks ago, you were on that mission with Sam. I thought I had told you, haven’t I?” He looks at you and tilts his head to the side.

“No, no you didn’t”. Your stare is hard on him, but you don’t care.

“Oh,” it slips out of his lips as his eyebrows furrow.

“Y/n, I thought you knew, I can-”

“You don’t need to worry, Anna.” You interrupt her attempt to say something. “It’s just that I…I was just surprised to see you… that’s all.” You try to form a kind smile on your face. This is your kid’s first party, you really don’t want to ruin it by making a scene or forcing someone to leave. Even if this someone is Anna, a woman who makes your hands shake and your spine freeze with pure… Fuck… It’s irrational and a little unfair, but it is what it is, “You make yourself at home.” You nod, keeping the smile tight in your face.

She seems like she is going to protest when a couple of agents of SHIELD, that certainly must’ve been friends with her when she worked there calls her from across the room. Anna shoots you an apologetic look before thanking you and walking over them. Without actually addressing to Bucky in any way again.

“Hey-” Bucky starts when she’s out of reach.

“It’s almost time for presents and cake,” You cut him, “I’m gonna give Summer something to eat so she doesn’t get cranky.”

“Alright,” he nods, “Let me-”

“It’s ok.” You raise a hand when he moves to grab Summer, “You go entertain your guests.” The harsh words slip out without warning, sheer venom lacing your tongue. The words are bitter, because that’s exactly how you’re feeling. You ignore the crease between Bucky’s eyebrows to strut towards Nat and Harry at the terrace, not giving him space to say anything else.

Bitterness and coldness are all you present him with every single time he tries to interact with you after that moment. You can’t help yourself. You’re mad, angry, disappointed, you feel sick in your stomach, you wanna scream, you’re… you’re jealous. You’re damn jealous, not that you’re proud of it, but you are. You know you have no right to feel that way… but then again, don’t you really? Shouldn’t he have told you he met Anna after all that time? Let alone that he invited her to your daughter’s first birthday? Why didn’t he? Was that just it? Just a casual encounter? Or maybe he was in touch with her all this time? He had never mentioned her again… And no, you’re not in a romantic relationship with him but what you have built so far together had to mean something… He should’ve told you. It’s about respect… nothing else.

No matter how much you fight it, your gaze always ends up seeking for her. You dismiss all questions of concern from mostly Wanda and Nat. It’s fine, you lie. To Anna’s credit, though, she keeps it to herself. You’ve spot some of your friends greeting her, but she stays next to the SHIELD agents most of the time and doesn’t approach Bucky again. You hate to allow all this situation to somehow taint the experience of your daughter’s first birthday and therefore you’re even madder at Bucky, no matter how childish it makes you seem.

“Anna is what I need…She’s the one for me.”

Even after everything that transpired afterwards, you’ve never forgotten those words he said to you that night. The night he chose Anna. Those are the words repeating in your brain now and breaking your heart all over again, bringing out memories of nights spent awake thinking about him and her together, holding each other. The damn terror that he finally comes to his senses, again, and realizes that, indeed, she’s the one for him, lodges itself in your chest again.

The words keep haunting your mind while everyone gathers to watch Summer opening the presents. You and Bucky side by side as the gifts are delivered to your daughter on his lap. The little girl, by the way, seems much more interested in the papers and bags rather than the actual presents inside, playing and trying to hold all of them at once. That makes your heavy heart a bit lighter as you giggle at her antics. You try not to think too much of how Bucky seems to insistently gain your attention and you never engage fully when he tries to share a word or a laugh with you.

After all the presents are opened, Summer is enjoying herself with some of her friends, finally giving her new toys a chance with Bucky’s close supervision. You decide it's almost time for the cake and go to the kitchen to pick it up from the fridge.

“Y/N?”

You’re closing the fridge’s door with your elbow, huge chocolate cake in hands when Anna quietly calls your name. Not really expecting to have to talk to her again, the breath catches in your throat before you turn around to see her.

“Oh, do you need help?” She steps to you when she spots the cake in your hands.

“It’s ok. It’s not as heavy as it looks.” You quickly dismiss her offer. Does she want something? Why has she followed you to the kitchen?

She halts, “Ahm, Can I talk to you for a second?”

You use a moment to take a good look at her. Her plunged shoulders make her seem small as she looks up at you through her eyelashes expectantly, almost sheepishly. She’s nervous. You sigh and step forwards to carefully place the cake on the balcony. There are plenty of stools for both of you to take a seat, but you prefer to keep standing up when you nod at her, “Sure.”

“I’m sorry for today,” She doesn’t take a breath before speaking, “I really thought Bucky had told you. Like he said, we ran against each other on a coffee shop, I don’t even remember which one. He walked in to use the bathroom, he needed to change Summer or something.” She narrows her eyebrows before her features softens, “She’s beautiful by the way… ahm, we hadn’t seen each other for a long time and he stopped to talk for a bit. It was five minutes. He mentioned Summer’s birthday and ended up inviting me to come. I-I, he seemed so carefree and casual, I thought it wouldn’t be a problem If I dropped by… I really missed everyone and…” Her head drops as she sighs deeply, “I should’ve thought things through better.

You let her words sink in. She talked fast, urgently. The way she keeps looking back at you, pleading…It seems important for her that you believe what she’s saying and, in fact, you do.

“It’s ok, Anna.” You relent, letting your posture lose the stiffness, “I mean… I’m not gonna pretend I expected to see you here… but I… I just wish he would’ve told me beforehand…” You admit in a murmur, choosing to omit the part where her presence made you jealous as fuck. You’re not sure if Anna is aware of what’s the status of your relationship with Bucky and you rather keep it that way for some reason.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.” She says, waving both her hands and taking a step forward, “He might have just forgotten. I know planning a birthday party is a lot…”

Even if you’re now assured that they haven’t been meeting and it was just a casual encounter and despite her trying to soothe you and justify his omission, you’re not convinced. The fact he hasn’t told you anything still bothers the hell out of you, “Anyway…” You shake your head dismissively, “Don’t worry, it’s fine, Anna. So, how’ve you been doing?” You’re not sure exactly why you’re asking it, maybe to try and make the tension still lingering a little easier to bear.

Her lips open and her brows raise. Anna sure wasn’t expecting your question, either, “Oh…yeah, I’m good. it’s been a good year actually,” She licks her lips, “I stopped practicing, have been focused on studying… I’m engaged.” She lifts her hand, showing the beautiful diamond on her finger.

Your jaw drops. How the hell haven’t you seen this?

“Oh, wow, congratulations.” You greet, sounding as stunned as you really are.

“I’ve met him during PHD classes.” The smile on her lips is easy and dreaming, “He proposed in three months, my Jeromy. Seems a bit rushed, but when you know, you know, right?” She shrugs.

For the first time since she walked through the door of your home, you don’t have to force it when you smile at her. She’s right. When you know you know, even if, sometimes, pretending you don’t seems easier…

“Bucky invited him, too, but he’s giving a lecture now.” She informs.

Silence falls back between you two. After the news of her engagement – which helps to ease down the tension a bit more- you don’t know what else to say to her, but she seems like she’s not done yet. She places her hand on the back pockets of her jeans, and takes in a long breath as her eyes drop to the floor before she speaks again.

“Listen Y’/N, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you for a very long time…” She looks up at you.

You tilt your head, encouraging her to go on.

“I’m sorry for that day…” Anna murmurs, “For coming saying all those things to you before… before you got into the accident.” She swallows.

Oh…that.

“Anna…” you try.

“No, really.” She insists, “I know you don’t blame me. Bucky told me as much the last time we spoke when you were still pregnant. Maybe I didn’t directly cause the accident, but I shouldn’t have come, anyway.” The regret is heavy on her voice, “I tried to manipulate a situation in favor of my own interests with the excuse I was doing it for Bucky. Now I can see that and how messed up it was. I’m sorry.”

You see the guilt still tormenting her. You never really think about that accident anymore and you can see it still haunts her. And, after all, coming to talk to you that day and everything else… you know she was in love with Bucky. It was stupid, but who are you to judge, anyway. Anna ended up caught up in the mess of you and Bucky. Suddenly you feel a little bad for how you’ve been acting today. You know she’s not a threat, even if you can’t help but still dread what she somehow represents to you: that, maybe, there’s something or someone else out there better for Bucky and he can leave you, or whatever this is what you have, can end at any moment.

“We all make mistakes, Anna.” Your answer is firm, “And, yes, I really don’t blame you. What happened, happened, and it’s in the past. Everything turned out fine.”

A loud squeal catches both of your attentions and through the opened door, you see Bucky throwing Summer to the air as the little one screams with sheer joy. His smile just as big as hers.

“I’m so glad he’s that happy. He deserves it.” Anna grins, when she turns back to you.

Your gaze remains stuck on your little family. He really is happy. And so are you… even if it’s not complete and you’ve been denying yourself an attempt of being fully happy beside him by admitting how much you still love him and need him by your side as more than Summer’s father. What you already achieved with him is more than you’ve ever dreamed of after running away like you did all these years ago. The thought of anything ruining this happiness, whether someone else or your own stupidity, makes it hard for you to breathe.

“Anyway, I guess it’s better if I go now.” Anna cuts through the small silence.

“Oh, no, Anna.” You quickly protest, turning your gaze back to her, “It’s time for the cake. Stay. It’s ok, really.” You softly assure her, “To be honest, I could actually use some help, Steve ordered like 3 tons of cake here.”

You offer her a smile, which she kindly accepts by answering you with one of her own and a small thankful nod.

~~~~

It’s already dark when the last guests say goodbye. After striking up a battle with sleep to keep playing, Summer finally lost to exhaustion and passed out on Steve’s lap. Now, after cleaning everything up with the help of your friends, you’re at last relaxing on one of the loungers in your terrace eating a piece of the cake, while Bucky gives Summer a bath and puts her to sleep. Since she’s a heavy sleeper and almost nothing wakes her up after she dozes off, it is not uncommon for you two to bathe or change her while the little girl sleeps like a rock.

All in all, it was a good day. After your talk with Anna you were able to properly enjoy the rest of the party. Watching Summer clapping her little hands along with everyone else while they sang her happy birthday will always be held in your heart. Summer had a blast on her first birthday, even if she still doesn’t really get the meaning of it. Everything was worth it.

But now, that the buzz of the party is gone and you find yourself alone with your thoughts, that ugly, toxic feeling comes back to bite the pit of your stomach. You can only define it as jealousy and… and fear. Both feelings holding a grasp around your throat… slowly taking the air out of your lungs…suffocating you. You haven’t really talked to Bucky again at the party…Why didn’t he tell you about meeting Anna, about inviting her?

Yeah, you’re still damn annoyed.

You hear his steps when he walks into the terrace, but you don’t turn to him. You don’t move from your spot, staring ahead to the skyline through the glass windows when he sits on the lounger beside you and places the baby monitor – which, by the way, is Friday showing the image of you daughter peacefully sleeping on her crib - on the small round table between you two.

“She was exhausted, slept while I bathed her, but kept clapping her hands. She might’ve been dreaming... it was so cute,” He chuckles quietly, and continues when you just hum an answer and don’t look at him, “She didn’t even stir when I put on her pjs, and you know how much she hates putting on her pjs. She’ll probably sleep late tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” You answer plainly, shoving a huge piece of cake in your mouth.

“It was a great first party wasn’t it?”

You scoff, swallowing the cake and biting your tongue to just don’t spit the growing irritation inside you all over him, “For the most part, yeah.”

“Are you ok?”

From the corner of your eyes, you catch him leaning over to be able to see your face, since you have yet to look at him.

“I’m fine.” You grumble.

“Ok, it’s just that…I’ve noticed you were a little off-”

“Oh, have you?” Your face snaps to him, “What a perceptive genius you are.”

“Oh, hey…Where is that coming from?”

“You invited Anna?” You finally let it out of your chest, desperate to finally let loose the grip on your throat, “I haven’t heard a single word from her for more than one year and then she comes to our daughter's first birthday party? Have you been seeing her?” You know he hasn’t, you know that, but you can’t control your tongue, you want this fight. For some reason, you want to fight him, yell at him. Even hurt him.

“What? No, of course not, I-”

“Don’t tell me. You don’t need to say anything.” You swiftly get up, stomping your feet, as the plate with the cake makes a tingling noise for being roughly placed on the table next to the baby monitor, “Forget I said anything. You don’t owe me an explanation, it’s not like we have anything to do with each other-”

“Hey, hey, what the hell?” When you try to storm your way passed him, he stands up and grabs you by the arm and you jerk back before he turns you to him. Your face is so close to his, your bodies only an inch from each other, you feel the warmth rolling off of him to you. Your angry heart beats faster and when he tries to pull you even closer to him you smack him across his chest. “I haven’t been seeing Anna.” He continues, gaze fixed on you, unfazed by your attempt to shove him away. “I’ve met her by chance the other day, Summer played with her, Anna asked how old she was and I ended up inviting her to drop by, I didn’t even think-”

“What? You didn’t even think of me?” You challenge, raising your chin up, “You could’ve told me, Bucky,” The defiance sweeps into your voice. But you don’t try to get away from his touch again. It burns you in a much too familiar and longed way.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He pleads, “But do you wanna know why I didn’t tell you?” His eyes are frantic, roaming around every inch of your face, “I forgot. I just forgot because it didn’t feel important at all. Seeing Anna again didn’t mean anything… it was like meeting someone I used to know a very long time ago and that was all that it was… a turned page of my life. Summer was there and we were in the middle of planning the birthday, I just invited her… I didn’t even think about it again, but If I knew it would make you so upset, I would’ve never done this. I’m sorry.”

His eyes settle on yours. Even if his look is still filled with despair, just like his words, beg for you to understand, it somehow calms you. The fear that has been making your heart shrink, that the encounter with Anna had maybe awakened something inside him, a realization that he deserves more than you… that fear fades, allowing you to take in a deep breath, “Ok… ok. I have no right to be upset,” Your eyes shut, “I just…”

“I didn’t even think of you? We don’t have anything to do with each other?” The hold on you becomes stronger as he turns your own phrases into offended questions and you look back at him while his eyes narrow, “Why would you say that when you mean everything to me and you’re what I think about all the fucking time?”

Your heartbeats are loud in your ears as your knees buckle, “Bucky…” you breathe, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. His eyes flutter close and he leans against you. Your chest could explode at his admission… Not once in the last year of spending almost all the time together he had said something like that to you. That Wanda’s question creeps up to your mind again, “Bucky,” you call, and his eyes open to you, “What the hell are we even doing here?” You ask softly as tears well up in your eyes.

“What do you mean?” He asks, letting go of your arm to wipe one tear of the corner of your eyes with the back of his finger.

“This.” You cease the touch on his face and step back, waving back and forth between you two, “This whole year? You never… you never said anything like that.” Your voice comes out tiny, “I’m the one to ask. What do you mean by it? This life… What are we doing? What the hell are we?”

For a moment he just looks at you, breathing… thinking…“I don’t know.” He says, “We’re us, I guess.” He steps forward, making the distance you’ve just added between you two smaller, “I don’t know if what we’re doing is right, if we’re fooling ourselves… all I know is that this is where I belong. With you. With Summer...”

Your gaze drops. That’s it. Summer. She’s yours and his whole world and she’s the only thing holding him with-

“With you, baby…” He speaks quickly as if he’s reading your mind while both of his hands cup your face. The contrast between warm skin and cold metal you love so much because it means it’s him “I belong with you… This whole year… this whole time there wasn’t a minute when I didn’t think about kissing you.”

You hold your breath when he rushes a bit forward but halts, like he’s holding back the impulse to kiss you. He licks his lips, burying his eyes into yours. A single tear rolled down his cheek, “I buried everything inside me because what if you didn’t want this… what if I scared you again… what if you left me? If you leave me-”

He couldn't finish his sentence because your lean forward and capture his lips into yours. What if you leave him? Is this what he’s been thinking? You’ll show him, you’ll show him…

He kisses you back instantly. And of course the kiss is desperate, of course is eager and sloppy, because that’s what you both are now. Desperate to show each other everything you two have been keeping inside this whole year. All the want… all the desire, the need. The love. All of you.

Metal hand drops to your waist and pulls you to him while the flesh one rests on the back of your neck. But they don’t lodge there for long as they run all over your body. Fast… Hard. He pushes his tongue through your lips and you fist the fabric of his shirt on his back with one hand while the other snakes up and digs on his loose locks. God, you missed him. You missed this. It’s old, it’s home but also it’s like something you never tasted before. A relearned love.

Without parting your lips from his you step forward and he follows your lead, stepping back till his knees meet the side of the lounger. You break the kiss only for a second before pushing him backwards so he can sit on it. Sheer want rules your moves when you quickly straddle him and close your lips around his again. A whimper sweeps into your mouth when he grabs your ass. Your body move on its own when you rock into him. Feeling all of him. Hard and longing for you against your core, setting it to flames.

A hand of yours dips beneath his shirt, roaming over that enticing path of little hairs right above his pants before your nails scratches up higher on his broad body. With a gasp, he breaks apart from your lips, only to drag his mouth down your jaw and neck. Licking and sucking and biting… Marking you as you hiss in delightful pain, a kind of pain that can soothe the ache of not having him for so long.

“I love you,” His voice is rough and breathless when he whispers against your heated skin, as lips kiss and hands and fingers touch, stroke, grab. “I’ve loved you for so long, baby.” He reaches your ear with his lips and you pull his locks harder.

“God, I love you too.” You’re a mess of tears, smiles and soft whimpers as you keep kissing and touching him, never wanting to stop, wishing that you could somehow imprint his body and soul into yours and never let go.

“There’s no one else for me. I was so stupid…” He whispers, “I love you. I love you.” He repeats, between soft and long kisses on your neck, “Only you. All this time, all I ever wanted was you… There’s no one else. You don’t have to be jealous…” His grips on your body becomes impossibly stronger, “I was so scared, so damn scared…”

Something triggers inside you. A somber feeling that makes you stiffen. He continues ravishing your neck and cheeks and earlobes but you don’t respond anymore, widened eyes staring forward at the wall behind him and when he seeks for your mouth again you pushed him back. Ignoring the frown on his face and without any word you pull away from his lap and turn your back on him.

He follows you shortly and gently places his hands on your shoulders, “What’s wrong, baby?”

You can hear the impending fear in his voice.

You can’t do this.

“We can’t do this, Bucky.” You give voice to your mind and you can feel how he stiffens behind you so you turn to face him. You need him to understand. His stare is fixed on you, swollen lips from kissing parted… his eyes close for a moment as if trying to process what you just said after admitting you love him.

You breathe in the courage to say what you must, “Here I was thinking we were tracing a new path, that we were finally reaching that peace you always said you wanted but I know you couldn’t find it with me, and then…” You scoff, staring away for a moment, “and then I get jealous and we fight… We haven’t fought for so long… We were at peace. I love you, I do.” You assure, pleading for him to understand, “I love you so much, sometimes is hard to even breathe when I look at you, but… but… We shouldn’t do this. We’re filled with imperfections. We can’t do this. What if we hurt each other… What if I hurt you again,” You can’t stand that thought, “I’m not… I’m not perfect.”

His stare is undecipherable as he keeps it fixed on you. You love him, you really do, but would you two be able to write a different story, one that won’t bring hurt and pain upon the both of you? Upon Summer? You know you have been doing good so far, but both of you admitted you’ve been holding back for the sake of your peace… what happens when you let all your feelings loose?

He takes in a deep sigh before tilting his head to the side and bringing a hand to slowly scratch his beard. When he looks back at you a small smile curls up his lips.

You hold your breath.

“I’ve stayed away from you for two years and not a single moment I was at peace.” He says. With no rush, no desperation. What you hear into his soft voice is a quiet sense of realization. “I’ve been lying to myself… first I thought I could find peace and love elsewhere. Didn’t happen.” He chuckles. How can he be so calm? “Then I told myself that just staying next to you, without expressing how I really felt, what you really mean to me, would be enough, but tonight, fighting with you? Seeing how much you still love me? Kissing you…having your body close to mine once again…” You take in a shuddering breath as he speaks, no trouble, no sign of doubt on his speech, “I was never more at peace than tonight… You’re it, baby.” He licks his lips and shakes his head, “I don’t wanna lie to myself anymore. I don’t wanna lie to you. I know you’re not perfect, I don’t expect you to be. I’m not perfect either, I’m far from it. But I love you and you love me.” He pauses, waiting for you to deny him, but you don’t, how can you? “And love, my dear? Love isn’t perfect.”

When he finishes, with a teasing and comfort smirk on his face your heart beats loudly against your chest. You know you said that exact same thing to him…. That night on the rooftop. The very night your daughter was conceived… the last time you felt all of his love. At that time, it seemed like you truly believed that. But now? There’s too much to lose... too much to risk for an imperfect love… Right?

He steps closer to you and your body follows him, as you take one step closer to him, too, like you’re in a trance. But that’s when something catches your attention behind him, right past his shoulder and takes you out of your little daze. The baby monitor over the small table a few feet behind him. Your blood freezes in your veins. The image of a sleeping Summer is there, but…something…something is wrong.

“Bucky?”

He follows your transfixed gaze and looks over his shoulder. The way he holds his breath tells you he can see it, too. It’s small. Almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Her little arm moving to reach for her face and then it’s back on its original position… a few seconds… a small glitch…it happens again.

Your heart flies to your throat and you don’t breathe or think again before you turn on your heels and bolt to your baby’s room, Bucky on your toes. You trip on furniture; you may have hurt your leg… you don’t know… you can’t feel. All you feel is Summer, Summer, Summer.

The scream rips out of your soul when you storm into her room and, through blurred vision, you find the crib. Like you so violently dreaded, the image on the baby monitor was a nothing but a recording,

Summer. Your baby daughter… She’s gone.

~~~

Chapter 24 coming soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes series #bucky #bucky fic #marvel fanfiction #angst #looking for a heartbeat

1K notes · View notes

rainbowvamp · 3 years

Text

This was just a cute concept that got out of hand. WARNING for mentions of the pandemic, and altered life due to it. Ik a lot of people write fic where it doesn’t exist, so I just wanted to let you know in advance. Also, modern AU, if that wasn’t clear. Gwen/Morgana. Because I’m gay.

Wait. Morgwen roommates AU. Gwen’s ex-ish who she was still friends with has officially moved in with her boyfriend, and so she’s looking for a roommate. Lancelot (ex)’s new boyfriend Merlin has a brother who has a sister who is looking for a roommate! Why don’t you ring her up.

Gwen waits until the very last second because she doesn’t want a stranger to be her roommate, but rent’s due soon and she can’t make it on her own another month or she’ll have to start not eating.

So she calls up this Morgana girl that Is Lancelot’s boyfriend’s friend’s half-sister.

And she possibly falls in love over the phone. She has a very lovely voice. And Gwen invites her to see the place the next time Morgana’s available (because Gwen’s working from home in the pandemic, but Morgana is a service worker while she does grad school, so her schedule’s a bit more limited.)

When she shows up, Morgana is dressed in all black and this blood red lipstick that makes Gwen remember how bisexual she is, and she stammers through inviting her in, and it’s a little awkward for her, but Morgana seems to take it in stride. The all black outfit looks like something out of the best alt magazine she can imagine, but so much prettier because it’s all right there in front of her.

Morgana grins and looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing, then says, “I’ll take it.”

And then they were roommates, and Gwen had a crush. It was very unfortunate for Gwen, but Morgana gets a good laugh out of it. A private laugh, of course, because Morgana is kind enough not to laugh in Gwen’s face for her obvious crush. Especially when she’s nursing a significantly less obvious crush of her own. She doesn’t usually go for the hyper femme look that Gwen’s got going on, but it just suits her so well, and Gwen looks great in lavender and flowing tops with batwing sleeves.

They eat dinner together a couple nights a week when Morgana’s schedule allowed. Gwen’s got a knack for cooking, and Morgana’s better with baking (It’s chemistry, Gwen). So usually on days they eat together, Morgana puts some nonsense half-batch of baked goods together, and she and Gwen eat what they want while Morgana takes the rest in to work. (Really, no one pays service workers enough to handle human beings who are idiots. That’s the least she can do).

When they’re working in the kitchen together, it’s always this combination nightmare-dream scenario. Where everything is going fine and they’re working around each other like they’ve always belonged like that, except suddenly one of them (usually Gwen) gets a bit distracted, or flustered, and then the whole operation falls apart.

That might be a bit dramatic. The food only fell once. The baked goods sometimes also got over salted/chocolate chipped/floured or any number of things if Gwen bumped Morgana at the wrong time, but usually Morgana fixed it fairly easily. And she liked the challenge when it wasn’t easy, so it all worked out the same in the end.

“I’m could kiss you.” Morgana said, when the cranberry speckled lemon bread turned out much better than she thought it would. “I don’t know how you managed to drop an entire bag of dried cranberries into this, but you’re a genius.”

Gwen stuttered a reminder that it was an accident, which made Morgana bite her lip and offer Gwen a piece of the bread. Gwen tried to take it with her hand, but Morgana pulled back, just enough, and Gwen wrung her hands, worried her lower lip, before she leaned her head forward and let herself be fed.

It was actually really good.

“I think it’s got more to do with your skills than mine.” Gwen said after she’d chewed and swallowed. “What else did you add?”

“Bit of orange zest, orange juice, less sugar because the cranberries were sweetened, did some things with the ratios to alter the texture. It’s more like a cake than a bread, but I’m not complaining,” She smiled and offered another bite to Gwen, who took it delicately, trying not to brush Morgana’s fingers with her lips.

She failed.

And she didn’t miss the way that Morgana’s eyes flicked briefly down to her lips. Guinevere pulled back to chew and moved to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth.

Morgana tilted her head while she watched, seemingly fascinated.

“Come out with me tomorrow. There’s a silent socially distanced disco at the park. We’d have to bring our own headphones, but I've got a pair you can borrow.”

Morgana smiled a little wickedly at the bashful way Gwen tilted her head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah, okay.”

“Excellent.”

The silent disco turns to drive through coffee and a shitty movie back at home that they laugh at. Gwen makes popcorn (that Morgana adds way too much candy to) and Morgana carefully picks out the cleanest bits of popcorn to hoard on her lap until something she deems frustrating happens and she wants to throw them at the screen. There is a lot of popcorn on the floor, but it’ll be relatively easy to pick up. Morgana has made a habit of this behavior.

Gwen can’t help but watch her instead of the movie when the shouting and the popcorn throwing happens.

When the popcorn runs out and Morgana looks to Gwen, there’s a sparkle in her eyes. She looks so pleased with everything that Gwen just... kisses her.

It’s a quick kiss, a soft kiss, a stupid kiss. As soon as she does it she knows it’s a stupid thing to have done, but when she starts to pull back Morgana puts a hand behind her head and stops her when they’re barely an inch apart.

“Do you mean it?” Morgana asked, and Gwen swallowed hard, but nodded.

So Morgana leaned back in, and gave her a kiss to remember.

Gwen might have turned to Jello. The popcorn bowl was mostly empty when it fell over because of Morgana’s eagerness to be in Gwen’s lap. It didn’t even occur to Gwen to be concerned because Morgana’s lips were so soft, and her hands were somehow very respectful and absolutely everywhere. Gwen had no idea what to do with her hands, so she just put them at Morgana’s waist and hoped that was fine.

Morgana’s disco top (which she’d never changed from) rode up her stomach, and Gwen loved the feel over touching her skin almost as much as she loved the way that Morgana kissed her. Well, maybe not, Morgana was an excellent kisser.

The movie ended, but they didn’t really notice. They were sort of having a moment.

#Morgwen #morgana x gwen #morgana/gwen #morgana pendragon #Guinevere #bbc merlin #bbc merlin fanfic #lysa speaks

15 notes · View notes

palettepainter · 3 years

Note

*slides into the ask box* Psst, may I please request some Jeanist x Ragdoll headcannons? I think the ship is cute I want more of it

Yes you can cuz I am a sucker for opposites attract dynamics! This ship is my jam

Some of these headcannons where discussed with my bud @hazbinextgeneration who also ships Jeanist x Ragdoll. I can’t remember who came up with what headcannon but know she helped come up with some of them. I’m really happy people are requesting headcannons cuz I do love to discuss them! I just get a little shy sometimes

WARNING: Slight spoilers to MHA in this post

-It was actually my friend who got me into this ship so credit to them for showing me it! We where discussing how the two would eventually meet since Ragdoll and Jeanist hadn’t interacted in the series at all. Again no clue who suggested this but we thought Ragdoll could become friends with Jeanist after the Kamino incident with All for One. After Kamino Jeanist lost his lung, which obviously is going to affect his stamina in his hero career. He lost his lung after he was able to pull all the other heroes out of the way of the blast set off by All for One - including Tiger and Ragdoll. Ragdoll is a little shy first meeting Jeanist, she was still sad about the loss of her quirk and that put a damper on her usually happy go lucky attitude. Jeanist is surprised at her visit but not disappointed by it, it was nice to have some company. Ragdoll thanks Jeanist for pulling Tiger and herself from the blast, to which Jeanist simply replies he was just doing his duty as a hero and there was no need for thanks. Despite that Ragdoll still felt as if she had to prove her thanks, since Jeanist has suffered the lost of his lung because of it.

She makes her visits to the hospital daily, and Jeanist always appreciates the company of someone to talk to, it can get a little boring when you’re stuck in a recovery bed all day. Ragdoll talks about the most random things, theres no rhythm or pattern to her conversations: one minute she’s talking about the weather, the next she’s telling Jeanist all about this new cupcake she brought from the bakery. Jeanist more or less does the listening while Ragdoll does most of the talking but he prefers listening to her talk over the silence. Once Jeanist is allowed to leave the hospital Ragdoll is already waiting for him outside, which surprised him, he hadn’t expected her to come see him. Ragdoll had in fact asked one of the nurses monitoring Jeanist’s when he was going to be allowed to recover from his home, she thought it’d be nice for the two to have one last conversation while he walked home.

When Jeanist finally reaches his front door he thanks Ragdoll for keeping him company during his time in the hospital, and the two exchange numbers - Ragdoll doing so because she wanted to make sure Jeanist knew if he ever wanted to talk to someone she was there. Jeanist thanked her and told her he’d keep the offer in mind, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever need to call her for that

-Jeanist was wrong. Missing one lung all of a sudden would be hard on anyone, and Jeanist was not immune to the struggles that came with recovery. Adjusting was harder then he thought - little things that he didn’t even notice before all of a sudden began to bother him, he became snappy and stressed, the growing curiosity from the media and public all wondering when Jeanist would make his grand return just adding more weight on his shoulders. When he finally snaps he just lays down on his sofa and cries, until he feels exhausted and empty afterwards. He didn’t even remember calling Ragdoll to come over, but when she rushes in he doesn’t refuse the hug, he doesn’t stop the tears building up in his eyes again, he doesn’t try to muffle his sobs - he just breaksdown. The next morning Jeanist wakes up late, a rarity. He wakes up sprawled under his bed sheets with hair messy and still in his clothes from yesterday. When he manages to roll out of bed he walks into his kitchen to see something unexpected: Ragdoll as humming away cooking breakfast. Ragdoll, as if cooking breakfast in his home was totally normal, rushes him off to the bathroom so he can clean up, all the while Jeanist is still confused. After he’s cleaned up and his hair is combed he returns back into the kitchen to find what had to be the most obnoxiously cute breakfast he’d seen. The food had all been arranged to make smiley and kitty faces, and there was just so much! Jeanist assures Ragdoll that she didn’t have to make him breakfast, but Ragdoll just bats her hand with a smile and tells him to eat, nothing like a good breakfast to start the day of right! (Jeanist wouldn’t lie the food was delicious) While he eats himself and Ragdoll fill the silence with conversation. Jeanist asks Ragdoll what she was doing in his home so early, and Ragdoll replies sheepishly that after his breakdown yesterday, she slept on his sofa for the night, just in case he needed someone to pick him back up if he began to cry again. Jeanist is left speechless for two minutes, and it actually took Ragdoll lightly poking him for him to blink and come back to reality. He thanks Ragdoll again for her kindness and allowing him to let out his sadness without her judging or probing him for answers, and then pulls her into another hug

-Jeanist and Ragdoll become genuine friends outside of hero work and are each others supportive figure during their recovery. Jeanist is there to listen and comfort Ragdoll when she hits a bump in the road, and the sadness from the loss of her quirk returns - and vise versa with Ragdoll, who is there for Jeanist to lean on and sit with for company when he gets overwhelmed again. Ragdoll temporarily moves into the city to be closer to Jeanist, staying at a hotel with Tiger who was also taking some time off to recover from the Kamino incident. Due to Jeanist being temporarily out of action with his injury the two can’t really go out places, but Ragdoll, being physically fine despite loosing her quirk, tries her best to bring something new to talk with with Jeanist when she goes to visit. Sometimes it would be the latest fashion magazine, and she’d have to stiffen her snickering while Jeanist critiqued the outfits. Other days she’d bring some nice food over and the two would have lunch, other times she’d bring round a movie or a book she thought Jeanist might like. One day after the two have been friends for little over half a year and Ragdoll has come over to visit Jeanist enters the lounge with two hot drinks, one for himself and Ragdoll, and Ragdoll replies with a merry ‘Thanks Jeany!’ - Jeanist paused for a moment, processing the nickname. He’d never really been fond of using nicknames, he thought it wasn’t very professional for a grown man like himself to give others nicknames. Ragdoll catches the confused yet thoughtful look in his eye that isn’t covered by his fringe and asks if she overstepped things, Jeanist takes another moment to think..before shaking his head, saying it’s fine, for some reason Jeanist doesn’t seem to mind nicknames when it’s Ragdoll who’s using them.

-Lets all admit it Jeanist has fangirls, come on, with his looks he’s gotta have a couple douzand at least. With hero work, personal life and media Jeanist has never really had time to persue a propper relationship. He’s had relationships in the past during his early hero days, but with hero work and his gradual rising to the top ten his relationships often ended, which he understood - but he still felt a little bit lonely. Jeanist never even considered Ragdoll as a lover until he heard her laugh. Ragdoll had decided the two should try baking, it was something new to try and it would keep them entertained! Jeanist had done baking before so agreed without much persuasion. They ended up making a cake, which Jeanist didn’t do very often on the count he wasn’t the biggest fan of sweets, but he had Ragdoll as a baking assistant so eventually, they’d end up baking a cake. Ragdoll on the whole, despite being a hero, could be pretty oblivious as Jeanist learnt: as when it came to mixing in the flour with the mixer Jeanist stopped her, he went on a bit of a rant saying how her hair could get caught and then tangle up in the machine, all the while Ragdoll is trying to tell him not to turn on the mixer but..she was too late. Jeanist turned around, switched on the mixer, and the flour went right in his face. Ragdoll had been trying to turn down the mixing speed so the flour wouldn’t go anywhere. Jeanist, face, jumper, and apron covered in flour he blinks..and then lets out a single sneeze, before Ragdoll absolutely looses it.

Jeanist tries to be angry with her, saying that it wasn’t funny, but Ragdoll just couldn’t take him seriously in that moment. Jeanist rolls his eyes, accepting defeat as he reaches for a tea towel to wipe his face - and then Ragdoll giggle snorts. It’s the most dorkiest dorky sound he’s ever heard

Basically Jeanist had an ‘omg I’m in love’ moment while covered in flour standing blankly in the middle of his messy kitchen

-Their relationship became offical after everyone thought Hawks killed Jeanist and he returned. Jeanist is not prepared when a sobbing Ragdoll launches herself at him, actually knocking them both over. Ragdoll is gross sobbing into his chest telling him to never EVER scare her like that again you big idiot! Jeanist, exhausted from battle, can only sigh and weakly hug her back while softly apologizing. Once again Ragdoll is at his side during his recovery after the battle, noticeably more clingy and fretting. It took much reassurance from Jeanist but Ragdoll began to chill out a bit. Jeanist was the one who confessed first the day after he was let out from hospital, and Ragdoll once again, throws herself at him in a hug. They end up in a pile on his floor laughing, and then Ragdoll is the one who makes the first move and gives his cheek (whatever cheek is visible behind his high collar jumper) a kiss. It wasn’t Jeanist’s most graceful moment - laying there on his floor red faced and wide eyed, totally shocked at the fact Ragdoll just KISSED him as his brain rebooted. The damned little giggles and snickers cause the red in his face to deepen before he returns the kiss.

The two move in together in the city though Ragdoll still keeps in contact with Mandalay, Pixie and Tiger. Tiger and Mandalay are happy that Ragdoll found herself someone while Pixiebob took a little longer to come around. Jeanist and Ragdoll did their best to keep their relationship out of the public eye as much as possible, however when kids came around that became almost impossible. Ragdoll and Jeanist have three kids: Ito (my OC), Koneko (my OC) and a daughter named Shiruku (my pals OC). Shiruku and Koneko both go to UA while Ito is a model/undercover hero. Regardless that the media know of his relationship with Ragdoll Jeanist still does his best to keep his love life private, mostly for safety reasons as he doesn’t want any villain going after Ragdoll to get to him. To help with this Ragdoll took some self defence classes and still continues to do so to make sure she stays in shape. Ragdoll is much stronger then she looks even without her quirk.

-Their wedding was traditional yet fancy, Jeanist wanted the wedding to be special so pulled out all the stops to make sure it was memorable. Ragdoll, to no surprised, wanted to have some cat kind of theme to the wedding for kicks and giggles, Jeanist wasn’t sure of this idea at first but the two compromised and got a cat themed wedding cake. Jeanist agrees it was a good idea in the end just to see the child like joy in Ragdoll’s eyes when he and her cut the cake. Tiger, despite looking intimidating, was so so supportive and totally cried at the wedding. Him and Ragdoll have a sibling like bond, and Jeanist was very relieved to know Tiger supported their relationship. Mandalay, being the mum friend of the group, also cried at the wedding and like Tiger was very supportive and congratulating of Ragdoll and Jeanist. Pixie was..eh, fifty fifty. I headcannon Pixiebob as the protective sibling like friend, when she first found out Ragdoll and Jeanist where dating she straight up asked ‘What are your intentions with my team mate you denim wearing dunce?’ - to which Mandalay then forced Pixie to apologize. By the time the wedding came around Pixie was genuinely happy for Ragdoll but a small part of her was still unsure. She’s happy for Jeanist and Ragdoll now days, but has promised that if Jeanist breaks lil old Ragdoll’s heart she’ll break him like a twig - to which again Mandalay made her apologize and told Jeanist she was joking (she wasn’t)

-Not really a ship related one but I’ll put it here anyway. In my NGAU I headcannon Gang Orca and Jeanist as best friends. They went to school together and their friendship just stuck. Orca despite not having many relationships even in his highschool years very quickly picked up on Jeanist’s attraction towards Ragdoll before he did, but he never commented on it until the day Jeanist called him to admit he might have like Ragdoll romantically - to which Orca replied he had known for a long time. Their conversation went like this basically

Jeanist: Kugo, I..I think I may be attracted to Ragdoll

Gang Orca: I know Jeanist

Jeanist: What do you think I-...Wait, what do you mean you know?!

Gang Orca: I’m not blind

-Again not exactly ship related but whatever I’m putting it here too. Jeanist was on board with having kids, having a little family, call it a domestic daydream. Jeanist assumed any child of his would have his impeccable taste in fashion and glorious silky hair. He was only half right.

Ito (my OC), Jeanist’s and Ragdoll’s first born son does have the natural Hakamada silky hair and good looks..but he’s a total slob outside of modelling. When Ito comes to visit since he no longer lives at home he dresses like a teenager. He walks about the home in just sweat pants sometimes, his hair not brushed and not washed. Ragdoll is all chill with this because she likes to baby her kids, and despite looking like a slob Ito does still clean up any mess he makes in his parents home. Jeanist has had to more then once restrain Ito so he can comb that messy hair of his, and Ito gave up years ago trying to escape. He’ll enter the lounge wearing baggy pj’s, sit down and have a coffee, and then greet his dad who’s already scowling at his messy hair while he drags a comb through it. Ito sometimes pokes fun at his old man but Jeanist does not stand for such behavior in his house, and Ito quickly learns that when Jeanist threatens to give him a hair cut.

Their second son Koneko (my OC) is much more like Ragdoll and, to Jeanist’s relief, doesn’t wear dirty sweatpants around the home. He too also has the natural silky Hakamada hair, but Koneko’s hair is always tricky to style. Everytime Jeanist combs it all neat and tidy, it poofs back into it’s natural curly messy state. It drives Jeanist crazy-

-I remember seeing a post about this ages ago, I’ll see if I can find the post, but Bakugo was Koneko’s sort of babysitter when he was little. Bakugo now that he’s older begrudgingly admits that yeah, maybe as a kid he diiiid have some temper issues, and that maybe - just maybe - Jeanist was a good mentor after all. Bakugo didn’t know how he ended up roped into babysitting, but he was. The day he actually began to enjoy babysitting was the day he taught Jeanist’s kid to say die, it amused him for weeks, Jeanist not so much. Koneko ends up idolizing Bakugo, and Bakugo still being a smug b*stard totally rubs it in Jeanist’s face that his kid idolizes him. Jeanist doesn’t mind his son being a fan of Bakugo but he’s got a sharp eye on them

#MHA #BNHA #Best Jeanist #Jeanist #Ragdoll #Jeanist x Ragoll #I call this ship Jeankitty but if anyone has a better name let me know #headccannons

13 notes · View notes

dcbbw · 4 years

Text

Sneak Peek Sunday (8-23-2020)

I know for certain I was tagged by @sophie-and-shizuku, and I think I may have been tagged by @bebepac. Honestly, I have not had a lot of time to work on anything because of work obligations but I do have a fic ready to post and a handful of almost-there WIPs; fics that if I just sat down and added one more section, or did a final read-through on, I could post.

For Sneak Peek Sunday, I present to you my They’re Almost Ready list.

Boomerang (Un-Romance AU):

Maxwell.

I wonder what he is doing here. Then I hear his voice carry over my partition.

“Hey, Reebee,” he says, using his nickname for me.

“Max!” I say a little too loudly and a lot too cheerfully.

He steps to my ‘doorway’. “I come bearing treats,” he announces as he holds out a brown paper bag in one hand and my pink drink in the other.

I tell him to come in, and he plops in the guest chair before handing me my drink and cookies. I place them on my desk and roll my chair around so I’m facing him. I eye him appraisingly: Maxwell looks good. He’s still slim with a head full of gelled hair; his face is still handsome in an odd way. Maxwell is the type that is always animated: eyes flashing and sparkling, a permanent half smile lifting one corner of his mouth, hands moving.

A man in motion.

Right now, his leg is jiggling while his fingers tap and dance against his pant-covered thigh.

“What brings you here?” I ask curiously.

“I dropped Pen off this morning and walking her to the elevator, we ran into Lynn going on a coffee run.”

I freeze momentarily. Maxwell dropped Penelope off? “You and Pen?” I ask in what I hope is a casual tone.

He nods happily. “I ran into her at a pet shelter a couple of weekends ago. We talked some, grabbed some lunch, and we’ve been … hanging out ever since.”

“He was looking for a peacock!” Penelope offered helpfully from her cubicle.

I nod slowly. “Hanging out,” I repeat.

Max’s eyes grow wide as he takes in my expression. “It’s not like that.”

We stare at each other. The yet is unspoken.

Ghosts (Damien/Kai/Hayden ):

We were eating dinner in the living room. America’s Most Eligible was on, and for whatever reason, Kai and Hayden absolutely love that show. There were shrieks of laughter and finger pointing at the television set while I watched them absently, barely tasting my dinner.

Hayden noticed my lack of scoffing and reprimand and looked at me quizzically. “Are you okay, love?”

Kai put down her forkful of food to look at me through narrowed eyes. “Does this have to do with that client? What’s the job, Damien?”

She is neither suspicious nor jealous, just protective. Kai doesn’t love deeply or passionately; she loves fiercely.

I sip some cold beer. “I don’t know the job yet. I have to meet with them to find out.”

They both look at me skeptically. I shrug. “I just … I don’t know. I feel disconnected and I don’t know why.”

Except I do. I’m lying to the two most important people in my life, after mom and siblings, because of a man who left me three years ago. Over a phone call. I didn’t hear from him when I was heartbroken. I didn’t hear from him when robot assassins and a crazy man were trying to kill me and my friends.

No, he waits until I’m happy again to call. And I answered.

Love in a Time of Betrayal:

The light in the room was muted as the late afternoon sun filtered in through the closed window blinds. The heavy damask curtains were pulled open, tied back with cords of silk rope. They reminded her of an opera box.

Her hands ran down the front of his shirt, frantically pulling buttons through their holes; the diamond on her finger sparkled in the muted light of the room. The fabric was soft beneath her fingertips. Silk? Often washed cotton? It didn’t matter as she pulled the shirt from his broad shoulders. He let out a low laugh at her eagerness, his hair falling across his forehead in an endearing way.

She couldn’t wait to run her fingers through it.

The man pulled her closer to his bare chest, his short curly hairs matted to his skin. She breathed him in: pinecones, green grass, cognac. A hint of leather. Her lips found the crook of his neck and placed a kiss on his collarbone. He responded by planting a kiss in her hair.

They were star-crossed lovers, their hearts and their fates always at odds. The very Universe telling them constantly that they were not to be together, yet their bodies spoke differently.

Their love spoke differently.

She wondered if what they shared was lust or love, and always decided love. Lust could be sated, but her feelings for him never were.

He knew he loved her, with every fiber of his being. But he saw the signs: every chance they had at happiness was snatched away; sometimes cruelly, sometimes subtly. Either way, the pain was the same:

Deep. Hurtful. So intense not even the sweet release of death would alleviate it.

But here they were again, under the most trying of circumstances, attempting to right their world the only way they knew how.

The Queen’s Friendship:

The woman and Veronica were sitting in a dive bar, eating burgers and drinking beers. It had been five years since high school graduation, and their group of friends had disbanded:

Brenda’s mother had died soon after graduation, and she and her siblings had sold the house and divided the money. Brenda moved to Richmond, VA and had gotten a job with the state government. She was expecting her first child any day.

James had gotten a football scholarship from Auburn University. He played well, but not well enough to be noticed by the NFL. He was working as an accountant in Birmingham.

Michael D. had joined the Army.

Michael B. had moved to DC to attend Howard University and was applying to the police academy.

Shirley was in nursing school, and roommates with Rosalind, who was now a cosmetologist.

Ryan had gotten a degree in Physical Education Teaching and Coaching. He had always liked sports, but not playing them. He was waiting to hear back from the school board about a coaching position.

Veronica had gotten her meeting planning certification and was now looking to get into real estate.

The woman had her degree in Office Administration, along with the rest of the world. She had applied to several places but had yet to hear back.

Veronica dipped her French fry in ketchup as she studied the woman’s face. “I need you to be there! We’ve been friends forever and I want you to be my maid of honor!”

“You and Ryan are getting married?” The woman repeated her friend’s earlier statement, feeling foolish. Why, she wasn’t sure.

Veronica leaned back, tapping her nail against her chin. “I thought you were over Ryan?”

“I am! I am!” the woman hurriedly reassured her lifelong friend. “I just … wow, life is moving fast.”

Veronica nodded as she sat up straight. “It is, but it’s right, ya know?”

The woman nodded, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know how right felt. The two friends finished their meal, and on their way out, the woman saw a sign hanging on the wall: Now hiring waitresses, all shifts.

How I Met Your Wife:

The Duchess stopped fussing long enough to allow Yu to greet her deferentially; Riley smiled at the pretty, slim waitress and asked if there were a more private dining area she and her friends could enjoy their lunch. Yu arched an eyebrow; already the waitress held resentment against the Duchess. Of course she would want to lord her power and position over everyone else.

With a grunt, Yu led them to the private dining area reserved for large and/or private parties. Once the group was seated, Riley grasped Yu’s hand. “Thank you so much for accommodating my request. My appreciation will be reflected in your gratuity.”

Yu looked at the Duchess with a touch of incredulity before saying, “It’s the least I can do given that the King is offering the orchard workers some relief. I have family members who are affected.”

Riley looked at the waitress with concerned eyes before rummaging in her purse. “What are their names?”

Yu gave her the names before leaving the table with menus. She didn’t expect anything to come of it, but at least the new Duchess gave good lip service. She returned with the tea service in time to hear the Duchess on her phone arguing with someone who had to be the King.

“NO, you CANNOT return to the manor, Liam! And NO ONE is coming to the Palace! How in the HELL are you going to suggest WE use the SAME BAKER you and Madeleine were going to use?”

Silence as the Duchess listened to whatever the King was saying.

“I DO NOT CARE THAT THEY ARE THE ROYAL BAKERS! DO I LOOK ROYAL TO YOU?”

Yu hung back, not sure what to do. Riley smiled, and waved her over. “I am going to find a local Valtorian baker for the cake.” Brief silence. “IT ISN’T OUR WEDDING CAKE! I have three people, possibly four, with me RIGHT NOW who would LOVE to be the Duke of Valtoria! Don’t worry about who they are!’

More silence, then the Duchess hung up the phone. She looked at Yu. “The King will be joining us. Please send him here when he arrives.”

Coronation:

I run my hand through my hair while keeping the other on the steering wheel. The car is quiet, too quiet. I turn on the radio and a melancholy song fills the sedan.

And I bruise when you leave the room I never liked the way it felt Keepin' my hands to myself, mmm

Like some magic moment of which I'm not quite sure I wonder if you've ever been in love like this before You'll be scared when I possess you But you'll want me all the more

The music doesn’t help because my brain is filled with questions and images. There’s not enough room for the music and I impatiently turn the radio off. My phone rings; my hand fumbles on the passenger seat and I pull my eyes from the nearly empty road long enough to see it’s Beaumont calling and press the speaker button to answer.

“Yeah?” I growl as I check the speedometer and press a little harder on the gas pedal.

“Drake! We got Little Blossom! She’s going to stay!” he babbles excitedly in my ear.

I am quiet for a moment before I respond. “That’s great. Liam will be happy to hear it.” I don’t bother to ask Maxwell why he convinced Brooks to stay.

Liam made a choice. It wasn’t her.

“I thought you’d be more excited,” Maxwell says with some confusion in his voice.

“Olivia showed up at the Coronation, talked to Liam, and left. Then the pictures of Brooks came out. Wondering if there’s a connection.”

“You think Liv sent the pictures?”

I roll my eyes in annoyance. I try to keep the irritation out of my response. “No, Beaumont. I’m wondering if whoever did this to Brooks is behind Liv’s leaving.”

Desperate Measures:

Blinking back tears, Bertrand glanced at his watch. He raised an eyebrow as he realized it was almost time for his visitors. They were coming to meet with the stoic, confident Duke of Ramsford, not some maudlin, lovesick fool whose bank account was dangerously close to being overdrawn.

He pulled his papers together in neat stack and centered them precisely in the middle of the desk. He opened a drawer, and retrieved his lint brush, rolling it in brisk strokes over his suit jacket and sweater vest. Before leaving the study, he reached in a candy dish; he plucked a breath mint, which he popped in his mouth.

The Duke strode down the hall, ignoring the paintings and photos that lined the walls. He needed to check on lunch; the cook had been with the Beaumont family for decades; she still came in twice a week to do the grocery shopping and prepare dinner for the Duke and Lord. The rest of the staff had been let go; Bertrand could not afford to pay them, and people needed to make a living.

Bertrand trusted the chef implicitly, and normally wouldn’t micromanage, but today was important.

This meeting could put House Beaumont back on the road to riches.

Crown Prince Liam’s social season was starting in two days’ time; Maxwell had accompanied the Prince and some friends to New York City. Bertrand had tasked him with finding a wealthy American socialite who may be willing to sponsor herself in the season. It was a long shot, but Bertrand was desperate. Nothing seemed too farfetched at this point.

House Beaumont could not afford to sponsor anyone; however, every house who entered a suitor received a stipend to cover expenses such as clothing, food, and transportation. The House with the winning suitor received press coverage and a check to be split with the suitor.

Bertrand needed a winning suitor.

But the noblewomen of Cordonia did not need House Beaumont; they had their own houses, and no need to come out of pocket. However, there was one suitor who was entering the season who came from a minor noble house. A suitor whose name was unknown despite her mother having strong ties to Cordonia.

A suitor who had money, and lots of it.

Lady Hana Lee of Shanghai.

What are you working on @ao719 @bobasheebaby @katedrakeohd @glaimtruelovealways @burnsoslow @thecordoniandiaries @bbrandy2002

#sneak peek #on a sunday #long post #dcbbw writes #a lotta wips

41 notes · View notes

unknownunseenunheard · 4 years

Note

43, Timkon

Thank thee-

43. Taking care of the other when sick or injured

Kon was a moron. A complete and utter moron. An idiot of epic proportions. More importantly, he was Tim’s moron.

Tim’s moron of a boyfriend who decided it would be a fun idea to attack the Goddess of Snow headon, and, as a result, was now suffering under the common affliction humans knew as a cold.

Kon sneezed, shivering slightly. Face red, the clone was covered in so many blankets that it was a wonder Tim could still see his face.

Tim was scarred, and he had every right to be. Conner Kent had managed to get sick a grand total of two other times in his lifetime, and both events nearly killed him.

The first time was before Tim had even met him properly, when Kon had suffered from a clone degradation disease that had left him in critical condition.

The second time, well… Tim didn’t like to think of the second time. Kon had survived, just barely, only to die immediately afterwards bringing down Superboy Prime.

This time, the cause had not been anywhere near as epic or destructive. The Greek Goddess of Snow (because, apparently, that was a thing) had recently resurfaced. Upon learning the world had basically forgotten her existence and written her out of her role, she’d been displeased to say the least.

Khione had threatened to unleash a new Ice Age upon the planet, stating adamantly that they should allow her to do so in order to combat the oncoming threat of Global Warming.

While Tim was a firm believer that they needed to fight Global Warming, letting an Ice Goddess freeze over the entire east coast of the United States was not the way to go.

Taking her as a team would have been no problem. Sure, she was strong, but Young Justice was stronger. They’d tangled with gods before. Hell, Tim, Kon, and Bart had taken out Bedlam single handedly. Compared to that, Khione should have been cake.

And she was, because Kon, being the utter self sacrificing moron that he was, had decided to take her on one on one. Oh, sure, he won, but that didn’t prevent him from getting a cosmic cold from tangling with an Ice Goddess

And Tim knew he shouldn’t be freaking out about this because Kon had already been looked over by Zatanna, and she had assured Tim that all his fiancé just needed a couple of days rest for the aftereffects of the ice magic to wear off, but that was not helping because Tim was still worried.

Tim knew, logically, that Kon was going to be fine.

Logic didn’t do much in the face of brutal memories beating down into his head.

Tim lifted his arm, trailing fingers lightly at Kon’s forehead. The clone was burning up, face feverish and red. Kon smiled at him.

“Not so bad, aye Tim?”

“You’re an idiot,” Tim informed.

Kon sneezed before a full body shudder ripped through him. Then, leaning back against the pillows, Kon let his eyes fall shut.

Tim closed his own eyes, taking a deep breathe to brace himself.

This was okay.

This was alright.

This wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before, really.

He’d take care of Kon, nurse him back to health, and then they would be a badass power couple again like they always had been.

And he’d kick Kon’s ass afterwards for scaring the living shit out of him by being a self sacrificing moron, that was for sure.

Send me a prompt?

#writing prompts #timkon #kontim #tim drake #conner kent #kon el

59 notes · View notes

whatcouldgowrong-ohthat · 4 years

Text

We Do This to Live Ch. 2

Chapter Two

Summary: On Earth-198742, there are no heroes. There’s humans. There’s mutants. There are even some that fall somewhere between. But when Boliver Trask manages to get the Sentinel program signed, it’s up to a thief and her brilliant sister to find those that still believe in something more - something good. And maybe, along the way, they’ll get the chance to save mutant kind.

Pairings: Rogue x Remy, Marie x Shuri (eventually), Geneva x Bucky (eventually)

Word Count: 2344 words

Warnings: Cussing

Masterlist to OCs - Masterlist to Other Works

Previous Chapter

March 12th, 2000

Rain had a way of falling hard and heavy on days the world could really do without. Today was not an exception. The family, both blood and Guild, listened to the priest’s kind words about Henri Lebeau. It was all appreciated.

And yet…

Geneva looked to her parents. Her mother held Marie in her arm, her other hand carefully wrapped around her father’s bicep. She watched the subtle circles Rogue traced against Remy’s coat. It was her way of letting him know he was there. But her father’s eyes never looked away from the closed casket.

Closed only because there was no body to return home.

Tucking loose strands behind her ear, Geneva shivered as icy raindrops hit her skin. As much as she loved the rain, now didn’t seem to be a good time for it. A small sniffle caught her attention. She looked to the small child in Rogue’s arms. Only three and Marie had lost both of her parents.

She watched as Marie’s smaller hand reached for her. Her eyes were puffy, nose red, and lips quivering. Geneva couldn’t imagine how much of this her cousin actually understood. Letting Marie take one of her fingers, she watched her fat little digits curl around it and squeeze.

Things were going to be different now. They had to be. She offered a weak smile as Marie’s chubby cheek pressed into Rogue’s shoulder. Neither of them was paying attention to the speaker’s words. Nor did they notice the way Rogue had started watching them.

Instead, Geneva raised the finger Marie held and nudged her nose. “I got ya, Marie. Promise.”

Children always try their hardest. Whether it’s fulfilling promises or performing their best, they try. And Geneva, with the stubbornness of both her parents, was consistent. For a year, she helped care for Marie as much as her parents would allow. She stopped hanging out with friends, only wanting to make her little cousin smile as much as possible. Her parents noticed the difference in the way she treated the baby she once called a “punk” and “brat” had become more of a sister to her than they could have ever anticipated.

But the world has a funny way of reminding a child that they are only mortal. They always have strength, but with it comes weakness.

For them, it came as a reminder that she was young. Fragile. Geneva’s fevers came back inconsistently. Sometimes it would last a couple hours but vanish as quickly as it appeared. Other times, she would be bedridden for days at a time.

And neither Rogue nor Remy knew what to do.

Remy nursed a glass filled with bourbon. He sat on their apartment balcony, silently wondering what he could do. Was there anything he could do?

Four days had passed with Geneva’s temperature lingering at 104. Tante Mattie spent most days here, conjuring up whatever old medicine she could in what felt like a poor attempt to bring it down. Still, it wasn’t enough and now…

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to go to the hospitals – they did. However, the Accords had made it difficult for any mutant to step foot in one. If they came up unregistered, they were arrested on sight. He had seen too many families torn apart on the news and no human cared enough to speak up for them.

So where did that leave them with their little girl?

Remy wasn’t a fool. He knew how lucky they were to have Geneva in their life. The idea of losing her… He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.

The balcony door clicked; the sound so faint that anyone else would have missed it. He didn’t bother looking up, recognizing the perfume that lingered in the air. Rogue wrapped her arms around his shoulder, carefully resting her chin on his head. “Finally got Marie down,” she whispered. “Any word from Mattie?”

He lifted the phone from his lap. Nothing. She had taken Geneva to the hospital, insisting that nothing was working. This was their last option. Since she was human and Geneva showed no signs of being mutant, that meant the two could go. While Rogue and Remy silently waited here.

“Baiser les Accords,” he muttered, taking a sip of the alcohol. It did nothing to him thanks to his powers, but the bitter taste burning his throat at least helped him feel something.

“Ya know Mattie is gonna keep our girl safe, Sugah,” Rogue whispered, tucking his hair behind his ear. She was trying to stay hopeful. They both knew that. The truth that hung so plainly in the air was that, if she could, Rogue would fly there now. She’d bust down every door until she was by her daughter’s side.

They were those kinds of parents.

“Roguey,” he whispered, voice thick with more than just that Cajun tongue. “What if she can’t?”

Rogue’s heart cracked when he asked that one question. The one she couldn’t let cross her own mind. It hurt too much. Squeezing him tight, she whispered, “Then we figure it out.”

Taking Geneva to the hospital had been the hardest decision they had made. She stayed for three weeks, losing weight and delirious half the time. When Tante Mattie could and their baby girl felt up for it, the family facetimed. It was always careful – always making sure nurses and doctors weren’t waiting around the corner.

However, there had been more than one occasion where Remy almost broke into the hospital. He just wanted to see her in person. He wanted to make sure Geneva knew they wanted to be there. They didn’t want her to be alone.

But Tante Mattie made it clear. This wasn’t about him or Rogue. Everything they did here needed to be the best thing for her.

When Tante Mattie finally brought her home, they celebrated. Remy cooked all her favorites and Rogue had even made a cake. Meanwhile, Marie refused to let Geneva leave her side. The four-year-old had noticed her disappearance and it became clear to everyone. She wasn’t a fan.

“I’m fine! Really,” Geneva assured them, laughing when Rogue gave her another hug. “Don’t even feel like I was sick.” Bouncing Marie on her leg and playing with the girl’s small hands, Geneva glanced at her dad. “Y’both worry too much.”

“Maybe,” Rogue agreed, interrupting Remy before he got a chance to say something different. She gave him a look as he bit his tongue, knowing that crazy Cajun wanted to argue. “Still. We’re gonna be takin’ some precautions from now on. Just to be safe, alright?” She smoothed Geneva’s hair back, taking a look at her eyes. Her heart warmed when she saw that sparkle she adored so much.

Geneva huffed, her shoulders slumping. “I guess that’s fair.”

Remy snorted as he filled a bowl up with some jambalaya. “Bon. ‘Cause y’didn’t have a say eit’er way, petite luciole.”

“I’m not a firefly!”

Laughing, he slid the bowl in front of her just as an obnoxious growl tore through her stomach. “Just eat y’food.”

It’s rare for anyone to like change, but for the Lebeau family, it became especially hard. Deciding it better for them to stay close to more “human” family, they left Mississippi and moved back to New Orleans.

Jean Luc, wanting to help however he could, turned one of the guest bedrooms into a hospital room. He hired a private physician to join full time and, only when the fevers lasted longer than a week, did he or Tante Mattie take her to the hospital.

Because of Jean Luc’s…connections…it wasn’t too hard for the staff to look the other way. There was simply one silent rule – Jean Luc had to accompany them.

All things considered, they appreciated it.

And Remy thought it was the least his father could do for his granddaughter.

For three years, it became such a basic part of their routine that they didn’t question it. All that mattered was that Geneva always came home.

When she turned fourteen, no one noticed the change. No one…except Marie. Even at six and seven, she noticed the differences. She had started making notes for her own sake, knowing no one would listen to her. She was still a kid – the youngest of them all.

But there was no denying her notes were right.

Geneva’s fevers were lasting for shorter periods of time. Her skin remained hot, sure, but the thermometer didn’t register the temperatures quite the same. Another thing that was different – Geneva had more energy. If she didn’t know better, Marie would have thought Geneva was hyped on caffeine 24/7. She just had that much energy.

The one time she had even tried to say anything, Remy chocked it up to Geneva making up for time stuck in a bed.

But it was more than that. Marie knew it had to be.

“Oof!” Marie grunted as Geneva tackled her from behind. The notebook in her hand fell to the ground as her pen rolled under the couch. “Gen,” she groaned as Geneva flopped back.

She propped her back against the arm of the couch, rolling her eyes. “I swear y’not a kid. Y’sound as old as Pépé half the time.”

Marie didn’t say anything, shutting her notebook and tucking it against her chest. On her knees, she shoved her arm under the couch and tried to find that blasted pen. “That was my favorite,” she whined.

“It’s a pen, Marie,” Geneva reminded her.

Marie knew she was right. It was just a pen. Marie had ten exactly like it in her room because she knew her family well enough. Things like pens rolling just out of reach were common. Sitting on her haunches, she looked at Geneva. Sometimes it was hard to believe that there were so many years between the two.

Geneva always made a point to be fun, trying to get Marie to loosen up.

And Marie always acted older than her actual age.

Somehow, the two managed to find a way to meet in the middle.

“C’mon. Mere ‘n’ Pere are finally lettin’ moi get out o’this house.” Geneva jumped to her feet. “I need ya help pickin’ out what I’m wearin’.”

Marie yelped as she was yanked to her feet, stumbling and bounding up the stairs. As much as she could find Geneva’s energy a trifle annoying, she appreciated how much Geneva tried including her in her world.

It made things like “being in a thieves guild” feel a little more…normal.

Rogue found herself unable to sleep that night, eyes fixated on the moonlight outside. Geneva had left a few hours ago, checking in when she had arrived just as they had made her promise to do. She was a good kid. They both knew that. And yet…

“Do ya think it was a good idea,” she asked, knowing Remy had to be as awake as she.

“Non.” She couldn’t stop her smile. Her husband was such a grouch. “Y’convinced moi, remember?”

She rolled over, not at all surprised to see Remy had been staring at the ceiling. “Sugah,” she drawled. Rogue propped her head up, hating that Remy looked so absolutely distraught.

“I know we told her a couple months o’non fevers and she could go,” he grumbled. One hand was tucked behind his head, the other having found her knee. He squeezed gently, needing to know that she was there. “I know that, mas…What if somethin’ happens?”

The smallest sympathetic smile tugged at Rogue’s lips. “We’re both worryin’ over somethin’ that might not happen.”

Remy chuckled. Closing his eyes, the softest sigh forced his chest to rise and fall. “Been doin’ that. Hell, I thought the fevers might be a sign that…” He hesitated, afraid to voice it out loud.

But he didn’t need to. They had thought the same thing, believing Geneva’s crazy fevers and medical visits had to be connected to a brewing mutation.

“I know.” She curled against his side. “I thought the same thing.”

Silence fell between the two. Sure, it was a surprise and perhaps a bit disappointing that Geneva wasn’t a mutant. But maybe it needed to be this way. The Accords made being one of them so difficult. If she lived her life as a human, it’d be far easier for her.

A thud from their bedroom door broke the silence. They jerked as it swung open. Tante Mattie, Jean Luc, and Marie all stood there. Panic in their eyes.

“What,” Rogue asked, sitting up as Marie ran in. “What’s going on?”

“Y’need t’see the news,” Jean Luc told them, a waver in his voice that unsettled Remy.

The TV across from their bed flickered on, Marie standing just next to it with the remote in hand. The New Orleans news anchor wasn’t at his usual desk. He was…

He was on the outskirts of the bayou.

Remy stood up, eyes flickering to the ambulances, firetrucks, and police officers. Just behind all of the lights, taunting the world with its existence, was a fire.

“Police believe it was a mutant attack that started the fire.”

“Rem,” Rogue whispered. That agonizing fear tinged her voice, making Remy feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t notice her turn. She had to find her phone.

“Officials have already found four teenagers from the party. There have been minor injuries for the most part, but the kids have said there are still several that have yet to be found.”

“She’s not answerin’ her phone, Remy.”

A teenager’s face appeared on screen – pimply and awkward as ever. “It was so weird! The fille – There was lightnin’ comin’ outa her skin!”

Remy stood. His movements were quick, scrambling to find any clothes and settling on sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He stalked past them as Rogue rushed to find some clothes.

“Son, where y’goin’?”

Remy didn’t stop walking. He didn’t have the time. He only had one thing in mind --

“T’find her.”

14 notes · View notes

mariequitecontrarie · 4 years

Text

To Make You Feel My Love

Summary: Rumplestiltskin returns Belle’s heart at the pawnshop. This time, Belle goes after him. Notes: Hey guys, long time, no see! This S4 fix-it has been occupying real estate in my brain for ages. What if Belle had gone after Rumple and we had more than the rushed scene on the pawnshop floor? Thanks to @galactic-pirates for making this a better story! Rating: T Word Count: 7600

On AO3

WILL SCARLET

Will Scarlet is running late, but even though he’d kept Belle waiting at the pawnshop long past supper, his circular thoughts make his steps down Main Street plodding and uncertain.

He wants to resent Rumplestiltskin for ruining his relationship with Belle, but he can’t find fault where there is none. Gold had kept his distance, giving Belle a wide, respectful berth. From what Will had seen, he hadn’t been near the pawnshop, Granny’s, or the library, nor any of Belle’s favorite places.

Hell, he’d been an absolute gentleman.

Until this morning, when Belle had gone to babysit Mary Margaret and David’s Neal Junior. Only then did Rumplestiltskin make his move, cornering Will in the pawnshop. And what Gold told him had changed everything. Learning that Regina was controlling Belle twisted Will’s stomach with disbelief. Is he worried about Belle and what Regina might do next? Certainly. But that isn’t the problem. The blow to his pride is the real sucker punch.

Will pats the precious cargo tucked inside his jacket. His ego doesn’t matter now. He has a job to finish.

Of course, Will cares for Belle. When he met her at Archie Hopper’s birthday party, her sparkling smile and wit had captured his attention right away, and he hadn’t been able to resist asking her to join him for pizza and a pint later that week. They’d chatted long into the evening, and although they didn’t find much common ground, she was fun to talk to. Who wouldn’t enjoy keeping company with a fine lass like Belle? She’s kind, thoughtful, and intelligent. But she’s also more complicated than he anticipated. Too independent, too strong-willed.

Still too in love with her husband.

For the first time in months, Will allows himself to think of Ana. Even though she was often plotting and scheming, being with Ana had been easier somehow. He’d been needed, appreciated. But Belle French Gold didn’t need anything Will Scarlet could offer.

Three weeks into their awkward romance, it’s becoming more obvious by the day that Will is little more than a placeholder.

Like any dating couple, he and Belle spend time together, but always on her terms. Mostly at the pawnshop, sometimes at Granny’s, but always in public and usually with a mountain of chocolate cake between them. It’s Belle’s favorite dessert, and she’s always trying to push a forkful down his gullet. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her he’s allergic to chocolate. She loves her books, stashes them everywhere. There’s even a stack of them at his apartment, although she’s never crossed the threshold. But he’s not much for reading, which is another point against him. Unlike Gold, who clearly shares Belle’s passion for words.

Last week he was searching through the shop drawers for a misplaced ledger when he discovered a book war tally between them, with little notes and quotations scribbled in the margins in two sets of handwriting. He’d quickly buried it in the back of the drawer.

Yeah, the Dark One has more in common with his girlfriend than he does.

Now, as he’s trudging back to the shop with Belle’s heart in a box, he’s still processing the knowledge that without her heart, any emotion or affection she showed him wasn’t real. The worst part is, he didn’t know. He hadn’t seen the difference in a heartless Belle anymore than he would know the difference between Guinness and Beamish when he’s a dozen pints in.

Gold’s visit had blown him out of the water. Concern from someone who really knows her, and for all his sins, truly loves her. Rumplestiltskin wouldn’t have approached him to get Belle’s heart if he hadn’t been desperate.

Much as it irked him to hear the truth from the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin is right; Will doesn’t know Belle as well as he believes. Perhaps he doesn’t know her at all.

So much for boasting about stealing his wife’s affections.

Continuing his plodding pace down Main Street, Will passes the library, then Granny’s. The recent rain has left large cold puddles on the street and his boots make a sloshing sound as he wades through them. The sun is beginning its evening descent, leaving a chill in the dusky air. His wool socks are damp and cold and starting to smell.

Every step brings him closer to his meeting with Rumplestiltskin and the inevitable end of his relationship with Belle. A moment he both dreads and anticipates.

He sidesteps a deep puddle in the middle of Main Street, pausing to take stock of the shop and the box in his hands. The store lights glow from within, casting a message of welcome onto the gloomy, shadowed streets. Through the blinds, he glimpses Belle, standing sentinel over Gold’s domain. Other than its dust-free shelves, everything is as it had been while she and Gold had run the store as husband and wife. If asked she would deny it, but Belle had taken to spending more time puttering around in here than she did at the library with her books.

All along she’d been waiting for Gold to come back. She’d banished him from Storybrooke and then planted herself at the one place to which he would always return. Almost as if daring him to find a way back into town and into her heart.

And today Gold had stormed the shop with a plan to literally win her heart back. It was a fairytale come true, romantic to even the harshest cynic.

Will takes a deep breath and opens the door. As he wipes his sodden boots on the mat inside, Belle greets him with a weary smile. A bag of Granny’s takeout awaits his return on the top of one of the display counters. He tries to croak out a hello, but the box behind his back holding Belle’s heart is slick in his damp palms. He digs his blunt fingernails into the wood, scratching the grain.

May as well get this over with. He shows Belle the box, revealing the crimson heart within. She spreads her hand across her breastbone, her body recognizing its missing heart.

Gold enters the shop through the back door, executing the plan exactly as they had discussed. His power and presence are magnetic, and the lamps seem to flicker in homage. All the energy in the room rushes toward him, ready to obey his every command. Belle’s eyes widen like the saucer that matches her favorite teacup, and Will clamps down on his back teeth. She takes a few steps back, raises a hand in protest, asks Gold why he’s here. The objection is token at best. Even without her heart, Belle’s emotion for Rumplestiltskin is a tangible force.

Will drops back to stand in the shadows, watching, listening, playing his part. Gold commands Belle into Will’s care, his tone laced with resolve and regret.

He’s so stunned by the naked adoration on the Dark One’s face when he returns the heart of the woman he loves, Will barely hears a word.

With Belle’s heart returned to its rightful place, Gold promises not to bother her anymore, but not before another moment passes between them that is so raw and private, Will is embarrassed to have witnessed it.

When he lifts his head, Rumplestiltskin is out the door, and Belle is staring after him like her whole world is gone. Will grasps her hand--a feeble attempt to offer comfort--but she shakes loose of his grip and stares off into the night after Rumplestiltskin, worrying her naked ring finger with her other hand.

Will is resigned; maybe even a little relieved?

There’s nothing left to do but say goodbye.

xoxo

BELLE

What Belle really wants is to feel alive again, to show herself and everyone else in town how capable she is of moving forward, of living a life that doesn’t include Rumple.

Since she banished him from Storybrooke six weeks earlier, advice for nursing her broken heart had come from all sides. Archie prescribed exercise and healthy eating; Granny suggested throwing herself into work; Snow thought she needed to slow down and take more naps.

For a little while, she tried following the suggestions of her friends, but every antidote left her stumbling through her days like a child lost in a fog. Food has no taste, her work at the library seems meaningless, and on the rare nights when she can fall asleep, Rumple follows her into her dreams.

She hasn’t seen him since he came back to Storybrooke, but last night’s dream of standing next to him at the well was so real. When she woke, she felt the warmth of his lips on hers and a peculiar pain in her chest. A royal blue coat she hasn’t worn in ages was draped across the foot of the bed. Odd. She stuffed it into the back of the closet and pulled out the new light pink one.

Eventually, people claimed, it would get easier. Nothing more than a silly platitude, really, but for the last couple of days, she’s struggling to care. She can’t pinpoint when she started to feel this way. All she knows is she would rather sit in the dark with a blanket over her head than face the world.

Will, bless him, is the one bright spot lately. Only he is without judgment; the only person who simply sits quietly at her side without talking, and without offering “101 Ways to Get Over Rumplestiltskin.” Maybe it’s because he loved Anastasia, the Red Queen, who had also made many wrong choices. Maybe it’s because deep down, they’re not expecting anything from each other.

Whatever the reason, he doesn’t demand anything of her, and for that, Belle owes him her gratitude.

xoxo

Granny’s, Last Night Belle sat in a booth opposite Ruby, sipping on her second glass of a new concoction called a Long Island Iced Tea.

Granny promised the combination of cola, liquors, and lemon tasted just like the real thing, so she gave it a try.

Belle doesn’t know why it makes any difference if the fake tea tastes like the original, but Ruby showed up at her house tonight demanding they relax and have a girls’ night. Too tired to argue, she put on the emerald green top and leather skirt Ruby fished out from the back of her closet and here they are.

At least the strange prickling sensation on her tongue and the curious humming in her veins means she’s feeling something. She’s been not quite right for the last few days. Not sick, but not well either. Maybe she should pay a visit to Doctor Whale.

Ruby took a long swig of her drink, a bright red fruity one called a Cosmopolitan. “So, are you still seeing Will?”

It was an odd question, considering she’d had dinner at Granny’s in this exact same booth with Will the night before. Ruby had even been their server.

“We were here together last night,” Belle said. “You swiped some of my curly fries, remember?”

“Oh yeah!”

“Will and I are doing fine,” she said. “Honestly, it’s refreshing to be with someone who’s simple and honest about who they are.”

Ruby giggled around her straw. “A super sweet way of saying he’s boring.”

Belle frowned. Was Ruby trying to confuse her? No one else has questioned her choice in dating Will, and several people have volunteered the viewpoint that both she and the town are better off without Rumplestiltskin in the picture. She hadn’t asked, but since when did that stop anyone?

“You’re always friendly to Will,” she pointed out.

“It’s one thing to be kind to a customer and a member of this town. It’s another to think he’s good for my best friend.” Ruby laughed again, but the shrewd tilt of her head made Belle feel strange and transparent.

She searched for something to say, a way to make Ruby stop giving her that look. “Will is kind. He gave me a rose.” There, that was something.

Ruby snorted. “I’ve read your story in Henry’s book. He’s not the first. Gold-”

Belle held up a hand, cutting her off. “I know who the roses came from.” When they were dating and when they were married, Rumple used to bring her flowers all the time. Often he brought home roses, but sometimes it was peonies and other times wildflowers. They used to enjoy discussing their different meanings. She toyed with the lemon slice floating on top of her drink. Surely she and Will had many things in common, she was just too tired to list them right now. “Will and I both like hiking.”

“Mmmmm. And has Will read any good books lately? If I remember right, you and Gold used to compete to see who could get through the Great Books first.”

“I had no idea you were such a big Rumple fan,” Belle said sarcastically.

She was starting to feel like a contestant on one of those bizarre game shows people watched during the day. Ruby hadn’t objected to her marriage to Rumplestiltskin, but she hadn’t been supportive, either. More like a silent bystander. Suddenly she was jockeying for position as president of his fan club? Belle waved Granny down, hoping to order some chips. Crunchy, salty chips might make her feel better. “So Will’s not a reader, so what?”

“So call me crazy, but I want to see my best friend happy. And with someone who’s happy with her. But Will doesn’t look like a doting boyfriend. Every time I see him, he looks like he’s in pain or halfway to the bottom of a keg.”

“He’s had a tough time,” Belle said, still trying to catch Granny’s eye. “Besides, some people aren’t comfortable expressing emotion.”

“Rumplestiltskin could be the coldest bastard alive,” Ruby said. “But when it came to you, there was never any question about his feelings. His love for you was written all over his face.”

Belle wasn’t sure what to say. Normally, such an impassioned speech would have started the tears yet again. A few weeks ago, she’d even cried in front of Hook, and they were hardly best friends. Being reminded of Rumple always made her chase her choices down the rabbit hole, wondering if she’d been too hasty in sending him away.

Now she only felt tired.

“Come on, Belle. You can lie to yourself but you can’t lie to me. Wasn’t it at least a little bit exciting?” Ruby leaned her elbows on the table, her eyes sparkling with secret conspiracy. “Being married to Rumplestiltskin?”

Belle gnawed her lip, trying to decide how to answer. The drink was starting to make her forehead feel numb. Perhaps she was imagining it, but Ruby seemed to be looking at her with an expectation akin to hope.

“I suppose...yes, I guess it was,” she admitted. Rumple had vexed her, confused her, but when she was with him, her nerve endings were always on fire. He’d made her feel alive, and she was transfixed by his darkness as much as she had celebrated the light.

Ruby nodded, shifting further forward in her seat. “You loved the excitement, the idea of rehabilitating a monster. Told me so yourself.” She took a long pull on her drink.

“He’s not a monster!” Belle snapped. The denial was a reflex, charged with an emotion she didn’t feel. A few other patrons in the diner turned to look at her, curious about who was yelling, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

Jumping to Rumple’s defense was a habit. A meaningless habit. She took a deep breath. “But that wasn’t...Rumple is...there’s no excuse for what he did but he’s still not...that.” What had he done, anyway? Belle couldn’t seem to remember.

She pushed her drink back and forth, wanting nothing more than to abandon this ridiculous evening and go home. But her legs were numb and if she left the table, she might not make it to the door before collapsing in a heap.

What was wrong with her? She really did need to call Whale, but then she would have to explain her symptoms. Difficult, considering she doesn’t know what the problem is, and she dare not bring up the word ‘depression.’ She’s not taking any more of those wacky antipsychotics he had her on when she was in the hospital last year.

At the cash register, Belle noticed Regina picking up a to-go order. It was the first time Belle has seen her today or had she been in the shop earlier? Awareness flickered on the edges of Belle’s consciousness but the feeling floated away as quickly as it came.

Across the table, Ruby snapped her fingers. “Belle? Did you hear me?”

Belle blinked. “Sorry, what?”

“I said I didn’t mean what I said about Gold. I’m sorry.” Ruby gave her hand a squeeze. “Are you okay? Maybe I shouldn’t have dragged you out tonight. I just miss you. We haven’t hung out in a while, but you don’t seem to be having much fun.”

“Forget it, I’m fine.” Belle let her eyes drift shut. “Just tired.”

“I know, sweetie,” Ruby soothed. “And I know you miss Gold. No matter what he’s done, you love him. I worry about you now that he’s back in Storybrooke, though. If he comes to find you, you won’t be able to stay away.”

Annoyance flares for a moment. Ruby thinks she’s weak. They all do.

She could stay away from Rumple if she really tried. She has a new boyfriend; Rumplestiltskin was no longer the only man in Belle French’s life.

“It’s over,” Belle said. “Rumple won’t get to me again.” She lifted her chin, daring Ruby to contradict her, but it didn’t matter.

How could she expect anyone else to believe her when she didn’t believe herself?

xoxo

Belle’s heart feels right inside her chest, strong and sure. Her ribs wrap around the familiar organ, holding it safe and snug. And when she holds her breath, she can feel the warmth of Rumple’s fingers on her heart, his fingers cupping her shoulder, strong yet tender.

She takes another lungful of air, holds it close to feel his phantom touch again.

Yesterday’s memories come surging back, and she almost falls to her knees with their force. At Regina’s urging, she had called Rumple to the well. He came, of course, as he always did when she asked. She’d seen his wounded husk of a heart. Then she’d kissed him. Seconds later, she’d ruined the tender moment with nasty words she didn’t mean to say. Words Regina put in her mouth.

The dream she thought she had was real.

It’s tempting to blame Regina for this mess, but she had walked right into this with her offer to help. Still, she is beyond weary of playing the ‘Use Belle to Get to Rumple Game’. Can’t anyone think of a better way to solve problems?

Fingers reach for hers, seeking to comfort, startling her. Will. She’d forgotten he was there.

His hand is warm but wrong, the fingers too short and thick, the palm too square. It doesn’t fit; they don’t fit.

She shakes him off, her full focus on watching her love walk away until he’s swallowed by the night.

How like Rumple to return her heart and then walk out the door with it all over again.

“Belle,” Will says, breaking into her thoughts again. “What can I do?”

This she recognizes--the consuming need to be something other than helpless. It was what drove her to help Regina yesterday. That, and she hadn’t seen Rumple since he’d been back in town. Regina had given her an easy excuse.

“Rumple’s sick,” she answers, staring at the outline of her reflection in the glass front of the shop. “I didn’t understand what he meant about his black heart. Not until he returned mine. Then I remembered. I saw him yesterday in the woods, by the old well.”

She decides it’s better to leave out the details, like how she’d compared their kisses and told Rumple he was lacking. The truth is, the brief pecks she’s shared with Will don’t come anywhere close to what Rumple makes her feel, and there’s no reason to hurt him.

“Figured it was something like that.” He takes a step closer but doesn’t attempt to touch her again. “Gold was the one who told me your heart had been stolen. He asked for my help.”

“Thank you.” She isn’t sure if she is grateful for his part in returning her heart or because he had allied with Rumple to do it. Rumple prided himself on working alone, and it was entirely out of character for him to trust anyone else with what needed doing. More than suspicious, Rumple asking Will for help was downright frightening.

A sign, she fears, of how weak his heart is becoming.

The idea of Rumple hurting and alone makes her dizzy with worry. Outside, droplets from this afternoon’s rain roll down the windows, little pin drops of light in the blackness. In the glass, she sees the bloated reflection of Will’s takeaway dinner from Granny’s sitting on the counter, the turkey melt and fries within long since gone cold.

It’s only been a few minutes since Rumple left the pawnshop, but it feels as though a lifetime has passed.

“What would you do if Anastasia was in trouble?” she asks Will, still facing the dark street. They haven’t talked much about each other’s past loves. Belle only knows that Will left Wonderland heartbroken and came to Storybrooke to heal and find a fresh start. She’s been equally quiet about Rumple.

“If this were Ana, I would give anything to be there for her.” Will sounds wistful. “For all her faults, there’s still good in her. In Rumplestiltskin, too, I’d wager.”

Will is quiet for a long moment, then asks the question. “Do you still love him?”

It’s an out, Belle realizes. He’s setting her free.

A tear runs down her cheek, and she turns to face the man who made her first few weeks without Rumplestiltskin a little easier. Will is a wonderful person, he’s just not the person for her “I do love him,” she whispers.

“Then fight for him. Go.” He nods toward the door.

Belle wastes no more time in hurrying after Rumple. They both know Will won’t be there when she returns.

The cold air hits her face and she squints into the dark, half-expecting Rumple to have vanished into thin air in one of his impressive parlor tricks. He’s nowhere in sight, so she picks a direction on instinct, splashing through frigid puddles as she runs on sheer hope, mindless of her soaked shoes.

It doesn’t take her long to catch him, and she pulls to a stop right outside the library doors.

“Rumple, wait!”

He stops walking away and turns, his forehead wrinkling with worry. “Belle, what are you doing out here in the cold? Are you okay?” He glances at her chest, where he’d replaced her heart mere moments earlier, and Belle looks down at her blouse. She’d run out of the shop without her coat.

“I should be asking you that question.” His face is ashen and his breathing shallow, pale fingers clutching the edges of his overcoat.

His rigid jaw softens at her concern and he looks at her like he's her husband, instead of someone she used to know. The way he looked at her scant minutes ago when he returned her heart. “Yes, well. Poison consuming your heart from the inside out will tend to have that effect.”

“Where are you staying?” She waves back toward the shop where the car is parked around the side. “I’ll drive you.”

“The cabin.” He tries to disguise a shiver.

“With Cruella?” She suddenly remembers hearing from Snow and David that Maleficent and Ursula had also been there with him. His evil dream team.

Taking in the worn sight of him, she tamps down on the urge to remind him that more nefarious plans won’t fix the current mess. To anyone else, he would appear healthy. Only she sees the brokenness behind his proud, well-dressed exterior. In all the years she’s known him, he’s never needed sleep, never felt the bite of winter air. Tonight his eyes are dark shadows, reflecting exhaustion, and he’s shivering in the cold.

“Come on.” She takes his arm, steering him in the direction of the car, and he allows himself to be led down the sidewalk.

He hadn’t asked for her help; then again, he never does. No expectations mean no disappointments.

Belle can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever trust her enough to take what she offers. This, she supposes as they walk arm-in-arm down the block together, is a start. xoxo

RUMPLESTILTSKIN

Rumplestiltskin isn’t sure what he expected when Belle chased him down the street and insisted on driving him somewhere, but coming back to their old home wasn’t on his list of possibilities.

The weakened state of his heart has made him careless and he’d nodded off in the car, his forehead pressed against the passenger side window. He’d woken up to find the car already parked in the driveway as if by magic, then followed Belle into the house as docile as a lamb.

Out of habit, Rumplestiltskin heads for the den and crouches before the hearth to start a fire. Back when life was good, relaxing in front of a good blaze was one of their favorite ways to spend a quiet evening. Belle would read, stopping now and then to laugh or read a passage aloud for his entertainment; he would make tea for her and pour whiskey for himself, then settle in the leather armchair to review paperwork from the shop. Occasionally, he would simply stare into the flames and think.

He hasn’t been here since she banished him from Storybrooke, and he’s surprised to see how little has changed. He expected Belle would have moved into the apartment above the library. But from the piles of books stacked on the floors and the warm, comforting aromas of paper and vanilla in the air, he can tell she’s been living here. Half-burned candles are clustered on the dust-free coffee and end tables, and a throw blanket they bought together is slung over the back of the leather sofa. He wonders if his suits are still hanging in the master bedroom closet.

Belle has been living here where they’d lived as husband and wife. Hope kindles in his spirit like the embers glowing in the grate. Maybe Belle still feels something for him, or perhaps all these creature comforts tell of evenings she’s been spending here with Will.

Will is the better man, that’s certain. Honorable, strong, caring. Rumplestiltskin simply counts himself a lucky bastard for having Belle in his life for as long as he did. How he talked her into marrying him, he has no idea.

In truth, he never expected her to say yes.

Knowing his failings as a husband doesn’t remove the sting of feeling replaced. Will is such a better kisser than you are. Those were the exact words Belle said to him yesterday at the well.

And gods, do they hurt.

He can’t fault Belle when Regina played puppeteer with her heart, forcing her to do and say things she didn’t mean. But what if she had meant it? Wasn’t there a grain of truth in every lie?

He focuses on the fire, punishing the log as he pretends Will Scarlet’s skull is on the other end of the hot poker clenched in his fist. The embers stir to life and before long, he has a strong blaze going. At least he can still do this right.

“Thank you,” Belle says quietly, coming to stand beside him. Her shoes are gone and she’s bundled into the old blue sweater she keeps tucked in the foyer closet. She holds out her hands, letting the fire warm her chilled fingertips. Her hands are always cold; such an odd contrast to her warm, generous heart.

Why she’s brought him here, he has no idea, but he’s helpless to do anything but wait for an explanation. His heart aches with the sort of physical pain he hasn’t felt in two hundred years and he can barely keep his feet. Moreover, he doesn’t have the strength to teleport away even if he wanted to escape.

Belle’s heart now restored, he doubts she is a pawn in another trick. Besides, this is Belle. Guileless, compassionate, beautiful Belle. Not for a moment does he believe she would hurt him of her own volition. Darkness and pain changed a person, though. He knows this better than most. He also knows he exposed her to harsh amounts of both. His wife. The one he’d sworn to love and protect until death. He is unworthy of her, which is why he returned her heart and entrusted her to Will.

So why isn’t she with him now?

“Shouldn’t you...where is Will?” He turns toward her, using the light of the fire to search her expressive face for answers. Is she smiling, frowning, biting her lip? He loves every little sign that tells him what she’s thinking.

She presses her lips together as if measuring her words. “You and I have things to say to each other.”

“But I thought the two of you were getting on.” Gods, he sounds like a village matchmaker. All he wants is for Belle to be happy, even if it’s not with him.

Her forehead crinkles the way it does whenever she’s thinking. “We’ve gone out a couple of times. Our relationship is simple. No complications. With Will, what you see is what you get.”

“And with me?”

Her laughter is tired, but at least she is smiling. “With you, nothing is simple.”

The truth in those words is indisputable, but it’s also one of the reasons she loves him or at least used to love him. He has no idea how she feels about him anymore, and her passionate kiss at the well yesterday has left him even more confused.

“Long ago, you told me love is layered. A mystery to be uncovered.” He smiles a little, remembering that day in his castle with fondness. He presented her a rose with a flourishing bow, and she’d not only accepted it, she’d liked it. And he’d fallen stupidly, hopelessly in love with her.

“And so it is.” She lifts her hands toward him, the arms of her too-large sweater sagging down to brush the top of her ribcage. “May I take your coat?”

She folds his overcoat neatly, the way he likes, and drapes it over the side of the leather armchair in the corner. His old chair. Does she mean for him to sit there? Before he can ask, she moves to the sofa and sits, patting the cushion beside her. Inviting him closer, but not too close.

“You look like you need to sit down,” she says. “Maybe you could tell me about New York?”

“All right.” Gold sinks slowly into the opposite cushion of the sofa, trying to make it look more like a choice than a need. The weakness of his heart is making harsh demands on his body and his legs wobble like a new colt, even when he’s off his feet. He rubs his fingers together, considering where to start his story. He’s not proud of the craven alliances he made with Ursula and Cruella, or of tricking Belle into thinking he was an Oxford linguistics scholar, or of releasing a Chernabog to get back into town. As for his hellish five weeks in the city, he’d rather forget about flatlining in a hospital bed and nearly dying at Zelena’s hand.

But Belle’s face is alive with interest, the way it had been in the Enchanted Forest when he returned from errands in far off kingdoms like Camelot and Arendelle. She would pour tea for both of them, steaming and sweet, and beg him to tell her about his adventures. It dawns on him that he’d promised her a honeymoon; that trip was meant to be the first leg of her long-cherished dream to see the world.

Until he’d stolen her hopes with his deceit.

When he looks at her again, she’s huddled beneath her blanket with her feet tucked under her knees, waiting for him to begin.

Belle relishes nothing more than a good story, and the least he can do is describe a place he’s been to that she longs to see, even if his visit was anything but a vacation. So he reclines against the back of the sofa and begins to talk, describing the flashing lights, bright yellow taxi cabs, and bustling sidewalks. Buildings so tall they chased the stars. Theatres, food trucks, Central Park bursting into bloom. The wonderful, lively madness of New York.

Belle listens with rapt attention, her shoulders hunched toward him in anticipation. And so he digs deeper, into the darker aspects of the city, telling her of roaming the streets without magic, seeking warmth from a fire in a trash can under a bridge, microwaving ramen noodles swathed in a ratty bathrobe, sleeping on a sagging couch in the dank, third-floor flat he shared with Ursula.

He tells her the skies are blacker in New York than in Maine because the bright billboards and digital signs eclipse the starlight. He even admits to collapsing in Neal’s old apartment and almost dying in the hospital, stopping short of telling her how frightened he’d been. How he’d longed to call her like he had the last time he was dying, but he didn’t think she wanted to hear from him. Details about Zelena and the potion that jump-started his heart will have to wait.

“I don’t expect you to understand, Belle,” he says when he finishes his tale. They both know he doesn’t mean his talking tour of New York City.

“But I do understand, Rumple. I do.”

While he’d been speaking, she’d come closer, until she’s almost sitting on his side of the sofa. Now she reaches for him, lightly resting her palm over the back of his hand. “All you really wanted was to come home. And if all those decisions led you here, then I’m grateful.”

So she hadn’t wanted him banished for good. Relief at being welcomed, even in this small way, eases the burden of hurt he’s carried all these weeks.

“Thank you for telling me,” she says. “And for getting my heart back. I didn’t get a chance to say it back at the shop.”

He averts his gaze from the compassion in hers. Those angel eyes saw the good in many devils, him most of all. “I deserve everything that happened to me. That’s why I left you with Will. I-” he stops as his chest hitches with another pain and she squeezes his fingers “-soon my heart will be completely black and there will be no love left inside me. The man you saw good in will be gone. I’m not worth...you shouldn’t bother.” He finishes with a wheeze.

“When it comes to you, you’re fond of telling me what I’m supposed to want and think and feel.” She wags a finger, her frustration a tangled web between them. “Why don’t you let me decide what is and is not worth the bother?”

The boldness of her devotion continues to astound him.

When he held her heart in his hands earlier tonight, he’d felt the strength of it. A heart untouched by dark deeds, young, strong, so full of love. Each heart has a unique life force, an imprint of the one to whom it belongs. He’s used, stolen, and crushed more than his share. Tonight was the first time he’d ever returned one. Restless, he shifts on the sofa, trying to get comfortable. When that fails, he tries to rise. “I really need…” He falls back against the cushion. Damn this infernal weakness! His focus needs to be on getting that wretched Author to rewrite his story, to keep the Dark One from overtaking his soul, but he can’t control his own limbs. Even magic, his oldest, darkest friend, is failing him.

“What you really need is to let me help you,” she says. “Will you?”

His breath is growing short, and he shrinks into the corner of the sofa with a groan. Gods, his chest burns, but he doesn’t want to be an obligation or a heroic duty she feels honor-bound to carry out. “You want to help me for the sake of the town? To protect them from the beast? Or because a hero always helps people?”

She puts her hands on his shoulders, the pressure of her fingers demanding that he look at her. He does, only to find bright blue eyes swimming with tears.

“This isn’t about being a hero,” she says. “I want to help because I care about you. It’s like I told you at the well yesterday and again tonight, I’ve seen your heart and I do understand. Despite everything, I have faith in you.”

She lets go of his shoulders, and he wants to weep with the loss of her touch. Instead, he focuses on her offer of help. “What do you have in mind?”

“Tomorrow, I’ll go with you to see this Author of yours. But first, rest. You’re in no condition to go anywhere tonight, Rumple,” she says. “ Take off your jacket.”

He almost laughs at her order. Despite the cloak of sadness and exhaustion surrounding them, Belle is unflinchingly direct. He attempts to struggle out of the garment, nearly ripping it before she smooths her hands down his arms again, easing him out of the sleeves.

Her hands fall to unbutton his waistcoat and tie, her teeth scraping her lower lip in concentration. “What are you doing?” he asks, though it’s fairly obvious she’s disrobing him here in the den.

“Don’t worry.” Aware of his sense of propriety, she shrugs. “I’m making you more comfortable.”

Again he wonders what Will would think about them being here together. He wants to ask again, but with the new understanding building between them, their intimacy is as fragile as a chipped china cup.

Belle edges to the far end of the sofa, then pats her legs in invitation. “Stretch out.”

Too tired to argue, he unlaces his shoes and removes them, then eases down until his head and shoulders are cradled in her lap. He settles on his side, accepting her comfort, but facing away from her to watch his red striped socks flicker in the firelight.

Their bodies throw shadows on the wallpaper as evening melts into night, enrobing them like a warm blanket. They’re quiet for a long time, and only the rhythmic tick of the grandfather clock and the crackle of the fire enter the silence.

Staring into the fire with the warmth of Belle’s body cradling his head and her faint scent of roses and vanilla, he feels safe for the first time in many months.

Safe enough to ask the question that’s been puzzling him since he came back to town.

He shifts in her lap so he faces the ceiling, turning his head upward to see her face. “Why did you stay here in Storybrooke after I left? You could have traveled, seen the world. You still can. Will and you could-”

“There is no Will and me,” she interrupts, her fingers brushing back the annoying piece of hair that always falls across his forehead. “There never really was.”

He sucks in a breath, a rush of hope making his ruined heart beat triple time. “What do you mean?”

“Will is a good man.” He studies her expression. She smiles fondly when she talks about him, but no excitement lights her features the way it does when she talks about her books or learning something new. “Spending time with him was pleasant, but I think what we were both looking for was an escape from past hurts.”

The reminder that he is the cause of Belle’s pain makes him wince. “I’m sorry, Belle. And I know no number of apologies can make up for what I’ve done.”

He feels the weight of her hurt in her sigh. “I know, Rumple. I’m not angry with you, but I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive, either. After I saw your face again for the first time, with my heart, Will and I both knew it wasn’t right. I knew I could never love him the way…” She trails off, pressing her lips together. “I’m not saying I’m ready to be with you again, I’m not. And I might never be.”

They fall silent again, leaving him plenty of time to think over her words. What she’s given him tonight is enough. Time is the ultimate healer. Someday he might have the chance to earn her love, to become worthy of her. If he can get his heart working properly again.

Her cool fingers stroke his forehead in rhythmic motions, and he lets his eyes drift closed, savoring this stolen moment of peace.

“Can I see it again?” she whispers. “Your heart?”

“You’re the only one I trust with it,” he answers. He sits up to remove it from his chest--ugly, black, and cold--and gives it to her. She curls her fingers around it, cradles it in her palms like a precious object. Tears sting his eyes and he can almost feel her holding it.

With her eyes on his, she lifts the husk to her mouth and places a kiss on the flickering red core. The tender brush of her lips touches his soul. Perhaps he merely conjures the image of his heart glowing brighter with her kiss, but there’s no mistaking the surge of energy he feels. True love is potent magic indeed.

She places his heart back against his chest, and he guides her movements, allowing her to press it home.

“Let me do something for you now; something I should have done long ago,” he says. “Your heart, I want to protect it.”

It had been foolish of him not to have done this years ago. Blinded by the arrogance of power, he assumed he would always be by her side, protecting her. Now he must ensure that no one--not Regina, nor anyone else--will ever be able to control Belle again.

More importantly, he must make Belle feel his love in the only way he can while he still has the strength. Before the darkness consumes him for good, leaving nothing more than a black void, wretched and evil. “But the price. You’re so weak.” She bites her lower lip, no doubt confused by his urgency.

“I’ll pay any price. To me, the cost of you being hurt again is far greater.” Weeks, days, maybe mere hours remain before his heart turns to stone. And the weaker his heart becomes, the more volatile and unstable the darkness inside him will become. If the darkness escapes, not even he knows what will happen next. “Please sweet-” he stops, swallowing the endearment. He has lost the right to speak words of love. “Belle. Allow me to do this.”

A wobbly nod signals her acceptance, and he leads her to stand facing him between the sofa and the fireplace.

“Close your eyes, my love.” He places both hands in the center of her chest, careful not to touch the upper swells of her breasts even through the layers of fabric she wears. The powerful thrum of her heart seems to burn through her clothing, singeing his fingertips. It’s as though her heart has a mind of its own and understands what he must do.

Calling on all the love he feels for her, he channels the purest of magic. No darkness tonight. Soon a shimmer flows from his hands and into her body, and he sees a light so clear and true the den is illuminated as a brilliant summer day. Even the air is warm and sweet.

The force of the magic knocks them both backward and they reach out, catching each other. Together they stagger back to the sofa where he collapses, wrung dry from the exertion of conjuring the spell.

Sweat has beaded on his brow, and he feels Belle wiping it away with the soft hem of her sweater. Arms encircle him, pulling him close against her body.

“I feel warm,” she murmurs into the top of his head. “Safe.”

“The protection spell,” he slurs against her chest, his words thick and drowsy. “Makes you warm. Makes me tired.”

“Sleep now,” she urges, beginning to once more stroke his hair. “I’ll protect you. And tomorrow we’ll see the Author.”

He smiles through his exhaustion--his darling, wonderful, brave Belle--and lets his eyes drift shut.

They are far from whole, but with the truth out in the open, they are better tonight than they’ve been in a long time, maybe ever. Despite his many sins, she chooses to see the best in him. So he honors her choice with one of his own: he chooses to keep fighting, trying to be the good man she sees.

In truth, he’s terrified of tomorrow. He doesn’t want to die. But with Belle’s love on his side, this old husk of a heart will never give up.

###

THE END

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #rumbelle angst #rumbelle fix #fix-it #belle gold #rumplestiltskin #will scarlet #mqc writes #to make you feel my love

44 notes · View notes

hovercraft79 · 4 years

Text

Lovesong, Ch 3

Chapters: 3

Word Count: 5,615 - ish

Fandom: The Worst Witch (TV 2017)

Rating: M

Warnings: violence, adult situations, betrayal

Summary: Agatha launches a long-feared challenge to Ada’s position as Headmistress. Battle lines are drawn, and alliances are tested. Once the dust settles, will Hecate and Ada finally get the chance to find their happily ever after?

Notes: This is the conclusion of the fic that covers the Week 8 prompt ‘magical battle couple.’

The title of this week’s fic is still Lovesong, by The Cure.

I’m not sure who’s happier to have this fic finished, Sparky or me. As always, a massive thank you to her for all her work making these things readable.

If you haven’t read the first two chapters, you can find them HERE

Hecate rolled onto her stomach, losing her breakfast in the grass. It had been years since someone had transferred her against her will. Anger boiled in her blood. Gasping, Hecate crawled onto her hands and knees. Ada needed her. She forced herself to her feet, gathering her magic as she stood. With a twist of her hand Hecate transferred back to the office.

She immediately found herself flat on her back in the courtyard, her breath knocked from her lungs. Her shoulder felt like a red-hot fire iron had been jabbed through it. Cradling her arm against her chest, Hecate pushed herself up again.

This time, she tried transferring into the hallway outside of Ada’s office. She was met by Gwen and Alma, each of them already pounding on the door.

“It’s been warded!” Alma shouted. Behind the door they could hear glass breaking and the scrape of wood on stone. “We can’t get inside.” One of the twins screamed, but no one could tell which one.

“I’ll contact the Great Witch.” With a sympathetic glance at Alma, Gwen transferred away.

Hecate shoved her rising panic deep into her guts. Her guts didn’t like it. The panic mingled with a roiling nausea, causing Hecate to sway on her feet. “We’ve got to get inside. Ada could be—”

“Ada is stronger than you know, Hecate.” Alma said, with forced certainty. Another crash. “But we needn’t dawdle about getting inside.”

“I tried. My magic isn’t strong enough to break the wards.” Hecate slapped at the wall, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. She needed more power. “I have an idea. My magic may not be strong enough, but the castle’s surely is.”

Alma’s eyes flew open when she realized what Hecate intended to do. “Hecate…”

“I can’t think of anything else.” If she hadn’t already been certain, the sound of errant magic smashing into the door would have convinced her. “I have to try.” Hecate summoned her broom and transferred outside.

She mounted her broom and kicked off into the sky, heading for the edge of the Academy grounds. The thrumming in her chest told her she was getting close. She pulled her broom up, slowing her speed and forcing herself closer to the boundary. By the time she was a broomstick length away, the thrum felt more like a rumble, knocking her heartbeat slightly out of rhythm. She backed away, shifting from the normal side-saddle position into a racing position, straddling the stick with her feet planted firmly against the bristles. She had only one chance at this, and she meant to hit the boundary at speed.

She backed further away, judging the distance she would need to reach her full momentum. Hecate refused to think about what would happen if this didn’t work. It had to work. Ada needed it to work.

She leaned forward, building speed quickly. A strand of hair whipped free from her bun. Her resolve wavered at the last second, and she flung her arms in front of her face.

Hecate hit the boundary harder than she’d ever hit it before. Her momentum rocketed her into Ada’s office.

Her body exploded through Agatha’s wards, sending her tumbling through the room. She screamed with the agony of it.

She plowed over Agatha and into Ada’s desk. Wood splintered; glass broke. A searing pain shot down her shoulder; another flared in her forearm. Through sheer adrenaline, Hecate rolled onto her feet, capturing Agatha in a holding spell just as she threw another ball of magic at Ada. Hecate heard it hit with a sickening crackle.

Strengthening the hold, Hecate looked frantically behind her, trying to see how badly Ada was hurt. Blood poured from a cut on her scalp, running down her face and obscuring her vision.

“I’m all right,” Ada groaned. Hecate could barely hear her over the ringing in her ears.

Alma burst through the door, sizing up the situation and taking over the holding spell. Gwen and the Great Witch were right behind her.

Hecate ignored them all. Instead, she staggered the few steps to Ada’s side and dropped to her knees beside her. “Ada…” She’d obviously taken several hits. Hecate ran trembling fingers over Ada’s head. A wide silvery blonde streak of hair had appeared just over her left temple.

Coughing weakly, Ada pushed herself into a seated position. “You’re bleeding.” She summoned a handkerchief and wiped the blood from Hecate’s eyes. It didn’t help for long. “We need to get you to the infirmary.” Hecate reached up to touch her face. Thanks to the blood she didn’t see the horrified look in Ada’s eyes when she spotted the six-inch shard of wood embedded in Hecate’s forearm.

Gwen came to help Hecate to her feet. Ada as well.

“She attacked me! I demand justice!” Agatha clutched at the Great Witch. “She’s violated the Code!”

Still clutching Ada, Hecate limped closer until she loomed over Agatha. “Rule 7, Paragraph 3 states that a witch is allowed to defend herself if physically attacked – or to protect another witch under attack. Don’t try to out-quote the Code to me.”

Agatha shrank back, all the fight drained out of her.

“Come on, dear. Let’s get you to Miss Bismuth, she’ll fix you up.” Ada wrapped an arm around Hecate’s waist just as her knees gave out. “Mother…”

Alma bolstered Hecate from the other side. “You did good, love.” With a quick peck to the top of Hecate’s head, she transferred the three of them to the infirmary.

-----

Hecate cracked an eye open; even that much movement hurt. The infirmary. The sharp smell of disinfectant tickled her nose and she prayed she wouldn’t sneeze, lest her head burst like an over-filled toad’s bladder. At least the light was blessedly dim. She could feel a warm weight pressing against her thigh. Tilting her head as little as possible, Hecate looked down to find Ada, fast asleep in a chair with her head in Hecate’s lap.

She shifted her hand until she could gently rifle her fingers through Ada’s hair, careful not to wake her. Her eyes started drifting closed again.

“How are you feeling?”

Hecate’s eyes flew open, sending spikes of pain through her head. “M-Mrs. Cackle?”

“Sshh… I didn’t mean to startle.” Alma leaned in to examine the row of stitches along Hecate’s scalp as well as the purpling on her face. “Nurse says your head will be ringing for a while yet. You’ve a few stitches in your scalp and your face is going to look a fright for a few days. Miss Bismuth is working on a potion to speed things up a bit, but you know how it is… magic can only do so much on injuries.” Alma tapped the edge of the bandage on Hecate’s forearm. “She pulled a bloody broomstick out of your arm – you’ll feel that when you’re stirring the cauldron for a while. Probably best you were out like a lantern when she pulled that out of you.”

Hecate winced at the very idea. She pulled her eyes away from the bandage on her arm, focusing on the sleeping woman beside her bed. “When did Ada… Is she all right?”

“Not long. The Great Witch left only an hour ago.” Alma shifted in the chair, wishing she’d magicked herself more comfortable seating. “She came here straight away, but you were sleeping. Miss Bismuth says you’ve got a heavy case of magical exhaustion on top of your injuries. Ada as well, but hers isn’t as bad. We tried to get her to rest in her rooms, or at least take a bed in here, but she refused to leave your side until you woke up. She was out almost at once.” Alma worried at a button on her cardigan. “Her body will be sore for a few days. Her sister managed to land a few stunners, but I fear her heart will be sore far longer than that.”

With a tiny dip of her chin, Hecate agreed. Bodies heal from injuries much faster than a heart heals from betrayal. She knew that all too well. “And… what of Agatha?”

“Gone.” Alma sounded more relieved than anything else. “She hissed and spit about it like a familiar getting a bath, but… the Great Witch administered a truth potion. It was Agatha that set the Ostium Alternis trap and who baked a leaching spell into a fairy cake. She wanted to punish the girl for staying on the potions team. She failed in that, thanks to you,” Alma said. “Turns out, she’d been undermining Ada in all sorts of ways no one had even suspected. She’ll have her powers confiscated for a time, be required to perform menial labor for the Magic Council… and she’s forbidden from working at Cackle’s or any other magical school.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Alma’s head jerked up. “For what?” She dragged her chair closer to the bed. “What could you possibly be sorry for?” She lowered her voice when she saw Hecate’s eye twitch. “You risked great harm to protect my daughter. She’s here and well because you put yourself between her and danger.”

“But Agatha will—”

“Agatha will get what she’s earned, Hecate – less than, really. I tried to prevent the maelstrom that Agatha would surely bring, but I failed – just like I failed to protect you when you were a child. Today, you repaid my failure by protecting the school, Ada’s reputation… and her heart.”

“How could I do anything else? I love her.” Hecate cut her eyes to Ada, who still slept soundly even as Hecate ran her fingers through her hair. “I know you wanted better for her, but…”

“Then you know no such thing,” Alma snapped, “no such thing at all.” She gentled her tone. “I’ve never been particularly good at expressing my emotions; there’s always been too many things that needed to be done to spend my energy on fripperies. Perhaps if I had, I’d have a better relationship with my daughters.” She rested a hand on Hecate’s knee. “With all three of my daughters.”

Hecate’s half-closed eyes popped open. “Th-three? I don’t… You can’t mean me.”

“I most certainly can. And I do mean you. I didn’t say anything at the time because I didn’t think you could understand, and even if you understood, I didn’t think you were up to hearing it. I took the easy way out and I stayed quiet. I wanted you to have as much freedom and independence as possible, but maybe… maybe I just left you at loose ends,” she said, smiling sadly. “Hindsight is twenty-twenty they say… More than once I considered risking a time loop spell.” She drifted into the past for a moment before shaking herself back to the present. “Now that I have you cornered, I’m going to say what I should have said years ago. What happened to you was my fault. As Headmistress my job was to protect you – even from yourself and your own foolishness. I didn’t do that.”

“You couldn’t have known what I was doing,” Hecate argued. “No one knew.”

“That’s as may be, but I still bear the blame. If I could have returned Indigo Moon to life, I would have done so and freed you from this place – even if it meant I never saw you again.”

Hecate gazed lovingly at Ada. “I wouldn’t have met Ada if you had done that.” She met Alma’s eyes. “Is that terrible of me? My happiness rests on the shoulders of a little girl I turned to stone.”

“No, you’ve managed to find happiness despite the terrible thing that happened when you were a child,” Alma insisted. “You deserve to be happy, and I’ve done my best to give you every chance at it.”

“I know. You’ve given me far more than I deserved – certainly more than you had to.”

“Nonsense. As far as I was concerned, the instant the Great Witch placed the confinement on you, you became mine. Not my burden, not my responsibility… mine, as much my child as Agatha or Ada ever were. When your parents cut ties with you, that just cemented it further.” She gave Hecate a moment to process what she’d said.

Images from her childhood came to mind, each one taking on new meaning under the weight of Alma’s confession. Summer activities that Cackle’s began hosting during her third year… the addition of a theatre room and weekend movies… Miss Hagsmet and Darkwood Cottage… the beautiful living room furniture in her quarters… “All along… I never realized…”

“And that was my fault as well, so let me be clear… I couldn’t be happier that you and Ada have found one another and that you will officially become a member of my family. Because as far as I’m concerned, you have been for a very long time.”

Tears slipped from Hecate’s eyes; gritting her teeth, she wiped them away. “You made Cackle’s a place I could live and heal. Ada’s made it my home. I’m thankful to you both.” Before she could stop it, Hecate’s face split into an agonizing yawn. She shuddered to think what she looked like.

“You need to rest.” Alma stood and magicked the chair to its rightful place against the wall. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to the top of Hecate’s head, mindful of her injuries. Crossing to the other side of the bed, Alma nudged Ada until she was awake enough to stand. Quickly casting an enlargement spell on the bed, she tucked Ada in next to Hecate before calling Pendle and Morgana to join them. “Sleep well. You two will have to face the rest of the staff tomorrow.”

-----

A hush fell over the staff room the instant Hecate transferred in. She could feel the weight of dozens of eyes as they stared at her. The bruising on her face, the angry scrape running the length of her neck, the black thread stitching together the rips in her forehead and forearm – she carried the marks of her battle with Agatha proudly. No one save Ada knew that her haughty posture and rigid movement were caused by the agony her body was in. Out of the corner of her eye, Hecate saw Gwen summon a cushion for a chair. She placed it on the seat next to her and motioned for Hecate to join her. Almost no one, she thought, the tiniest of smiles flickering across her features.

Steeling herself against the movement, Hecate lowered herself stiffly into the chair. As soon as she was down, she let out a slow stream of breath. “Thank you.”

Once the buzz of conversation had resumed, Gwen leaned in, speaking low so no one else could hear her. “I expect Ada has fashioned you a pain potion or two.”

“She has. The next batch should be ready in about an hour.” Hecate hoped she lasted an hour in this chair. The pain potion helped a great deal, but it made her dreadfully sleepy. Ada had flat-out forbidden her from using Wide-Awake potion to counteract it.

“No one would fault you for missing this meeting, dear. I doubt any of it is news to you.” Gwen tucked her hand inside Hecate’s elbow and squeezed gently. She also let loose a thin stream of soothing magic.

“This meeting won’t be easy,” Hecate said, casting a side-long look at Geraldine. “I want Ada to know that I support her.” She relaxed into the warmth of Gwen’s magic as it dulled some of her aches.

Gwen snorted softly. “All she has to do is take one look at you to know that.” She leaned in even closer, her lips almost close enough to tickle Hecate’s ear. “She’s going to want to pamper you later. Let her.” Leaning back in her own chair, Gwen blinked innocently enough, though the twinkle in her eye as she watched the blush creep furiously up Hecate’s throat gave her away.

Hecate was spared having to come up with a response by Ada’s arrival. Silence fell over the room again, and Hecate could once more hear the ringing in her ears.

“Thank you for joining me… I know the notice was short.” Ada clasped her hands in front of her, white-knuckled to keep herself from wringing them together. “As you know, we’ve had a difficult couple of days…” Blinking back tears, Ada let her eyes travel the room. Her gaze faltered when she got to Hecate.

Ignoring the pain, Hecate forced a smile and nodded encouragingly. She brought her pocket watch swiftly to her lips, hoping Ada would get the message. She did.

Steadier now, Ada took a deep breath and continued. “Suffice it to say, my sister will no long…” Ada cleared her throat, waiting for the flood of emotions to ebb. “My sister will no longer be with us here at Cackle’s.”

“You gave your own sister the boot?” Geraldine asked, shriller than usual. “So much for the bonds of family.”

Ada looked stricken. “A separation agreement was reached,” she answered, grimly. “Agatha feels her talents could be better put to use somewhere else. I’m afraid I’ve had to agree.”

In truth, Agatha’s departure had been non-negotiable as far as the Great Witch had been concerned. A one-year confiscation of her powers and a permanent ban on working at Cackle’s – that had been the punishment meted out for Agatha’s violations of the Code. Every time she looked at Hecate, Ada felt certain that her sister got off lightly.

“On a happier note, Penny Pestle is much improved and, while it may take a while, thanks to Miss Hardbroom, she’s expected to make a full recovery. We hope she’ll feel well enough to travel with the rest of the potions team to the Witchtathlon competition next week.”

Ada had misgivings about Cackle’s continued participation in the contest, but she’d reluctantly agreed to allow it, succumbing to arguments from both her mother and Hecate that the girls needed a quick return to normalcy.

Dierdre Swoop raised her hand. “What about Deputy Head? Who’s going to do that?”

“As if we didn’t know,” Geraldine spat. She scowled at Ada, her face pinched as though she’d just stepped in something foul.

“A very good question, Miss Swoop.” Ada pointedly ignored Geraldine. “For the time being, I’ve asked Miss Hardbroom to serve as acting Deputy Head.”

Geraldine was on her feet in an instant. “She’s a bloody first-year teacher! Outside of shagging the Headmistress, what qualifications does she have?”

“Sit down, Miss Gullet! You wretched, vulgar shrew!”

For a moment, Ada was afraid she’d been the one that shouted. Or Hecate. Her chin dropped to her chest when it was Gwen that stood up to face Geraldine.

“There’s no need for such hideous behavior just because you backed the wrong broom in this race.” Gwen pointed at Hecate. “She may be new to the faculty, but she certainly isn’t new to Cackle’s. She’s proven herself trustworthy time and again.”

“Really, Geraldine,” Dierdre shouted, “you complaining that anybody is getting ahead by getting a leg over with someone really is the kettle calling the cauldron black.”

Geraldine at least had the decency to look embarrassed at that. “She’s still not qualified…”

Miss Inkwell spoke up. “I didn’t see you spending hours in the library trying to find out what was wrong with that girl.”

“You didn’t brew the potions that we’re using to treat her, either,” Miss Bismuth added. “Her relationship with the Headmistress is hardly a liability after what we’ve just been through. Not that you ever darkened the infirmary door to know anything about it.”

Hecate stared fixedly ahead. When Ada had first approached her about stepping into the Deputy Head position, she’d fully expected Geraldine Gullet to complain. She’d even expected her complaint to center around the nature of her relationship with Ada. Hecate had not, however, expected the vigorous defense from the rest of the staff.

Finally, Ada decided she needed to retake control of the meeting, for Hecate’s sake if nothing else. “Your concerns are duly noted, Miss Gullet. That said, Miss Hardbroom has spent years earning my trust, and I hers. At this point, trustworthiness is enough.” She glanced at Hecate, sending her a silent apology before she carried on. “Yes, Miss Hardbroom and I have a personal as well as professional relationship. It may be unorthodox; I don’t really know. We’ll certainly have to learn to navigate maintaining a separation between our private lives and our work lives. However,” now she smiled broadly, for the first time in what felt like years. “If anyone doesn’t mind a little mixing of the two, we would love it if you would join us next summer for our wedding.”

Save Miss Gullet, the room erupted in cheers and congratulations.

-----

Hecate paced back and forth in front of the mirror in Ada’s office. The Witchtathlon competition was in full swing at Weirdsister College, and Hecate was fit to be tied. She knew her confinement wouldn’t allow her to attend the contest when they’d begun, but, sweet burning snail shells, waiting for Ada to remember to update her was worrying her nerves to the nub.

The mirror flickered, sending Hecate scrambling for the chair. “Ada?” The face that appeared wasn’t just Ada’s, but rather Ada, Miss Hanes and the entire Witchory team.

“There she is, girls. Why don’t you tell Miss Hardbroom how you made out in the competition?” Ada proudly nudged a Third-Year to the front.

“We came in third place!” She held up a bronze trophy in the shape of ten-pointed star. Since we won in Broomstick, Cackle’s is in second place over all!”

“Well done, girls! I’m proud of you!” She waved as Miss Hanes led the girls back to the team room. “Second overall,” she said to Ada, once they’d gone. “We should certainly make a better showing than the last competition.”

“I’m trying not to think about it.” Ada cocked her head, studying Hecate through the mirror. “How are you holding up? It’s nerve-wracking enough in person.” She winced, afraid she was rubbing salt into the wound. She’d asked the Great Witch for a dispensation to allow Hecate to attend the meet, but she’d been denied. Thankfully, she hadn’t mentioned the request to Hecate.

“It’s nothing short of miserable.” She shook her head. “I used to think about my confinement every day, every hour at first. I isolated myself, changed myself… I kept myself occupied by memorizing the code…”

“Until Miss Pentangle wouldn’t allow it,” Ada finished. She’d imagined the crushing loneliness Hecate must have felt. Ada knew she owed much of her current happiness to the efforts of a teenaged witch she’d never met. A teenaged witch who’d saved Hecate from a life of isolation and been rewarded with a shattering rejection. Even after all these years, Ada knew the pain of what Hecate had done to Pippa still ripped at her. “Have I ever told you how grateful I am that she refused to let you curl up in a corner?”

“You have.”

“And that I hate that you’ve still not mended your friendship?”

“That as well.” Hecate fiddled with her pocket watch, snicking it open and closed. “I don’t believe there’s anything left to mend.” She snapped the watch closed. “I know there’s not; I made sure of it.” Hecate forced a smile as Gwen stepped into the frame. “How did we do in Chanting?”

“We took first, of course.” She looked at them both as if there had never been any other possibility. Hecate supposed that with Esper Vespertilio as your chantsmith, there probably hadn’t been any other. “The girls are busy showing off their trophy as we speak. Spell Science came in fifth, though. Not much help from them in the final tally. The Familiar Husbandry team is competing now.” Gwen turned to Hecate. “Your potions girls are having a last-minute study session over plant forms or some such.”

“How is Miss Pestle holding up?” Hecate had misgivings about allowing Penny to compete. The girl was still too weak to attend all her classes. In fact, she still relied on a spelled wheelchair to travel about the castle. She was in it today. But even in her weakened state, Penny had insisted she wanted to participate. Neither Ada nor Hecate had been able to deny her. Still, it chafed that Hecate couldn’t be there to see to the girl herself.

Ada stared up at the ceiling, lips moving as she did a set of calculations in her head. “I would have liked a better showing in Spell Science, but still… as long as Potions, Witches Etiquette, or Myths and Legends take at least a second, we should be guaranteed a top five finish. That’s a significant improvement from last time.”

“That should be well in hand. I’m sure Hecate’s girls will carry the day.” Gwen gave Ada’s arm a friendly pat. “I’ll leave you to keep Hecate apprised of the competition. I’m going to go gloat a bit for Geraldine.” Waving at Hecate, she transferred to the team room.

Ada and Hecate exchanged an amused glance through the mirror. “I’m sure I should tell her to behave… but I must admit I’m taking a bit of perverse pleasure in the fact that Geraldine’s team has made the worst showing so far. I feel bad for the girls, of course, but Geraldine… well. Karma often wields a firm hand, doesn’t she?” Ada summoned a notepad and ran her finger down the page. “That’s everything so far. Did you have anything that you wanted me to go over with your girls?”

Hecate knew that now was hardly the time, but something had been gnawing at her heart and she couldn’t help herself. “You know this is how it will always be, don’t you?” She placed a hand against the mirror. “Every school holiday, meet, field trip… I’ll always be here, and you’ll always be there, alone. Binding yourself to me means a lifetime of this.”

Ada reached up and placed her hand on the mirror opposite Hecate’s. “I’m already bound to you, my dear, happily so. As long as there’s a mirror about, I won’t be alone.” Ada stepped closer to the mirror. “I know who I’m marrying, Hecate. Your quirks, your flaws, the maddening way you always know the answers to the Jumble… I love all of it. Spending holidays at the castle in order to spend my life with you is a bargain as far as I’m concerned. Anytime you doubt that, just read the inscription on that watch.” Hecate clicked the watch open and stared at the words as they swam through her tears.

They spent the next few hours making small talk in front of the mirror. At one point, someone transferred in a chair so Ada could sit down. Now and then a new team would come report their results. Hecate found herself near to bursting with pride when Penny wheeled up with the rest of the Potions team, clutching a first-place trophy.

EPILOGUE

Hecate fussed with her hair again, still not happy with her image in the mirror. She felt a tingle of familiar magic an instant before Ada appeared behind her.

“Last chance to change your mind,” she said, resting her hands on Hecate’s shoulders and kissing the top of her head.

Hecate lifted one of Ada’s hands and kissed her palm. “Never.” She turned around in her chair so she could see Ada properly. “You look stunning. Isn’t it bad luck, though? To see the bride before the wedding?”

“Bad luck for the groom to see the bride, perhaps.” Ada made a point of looking around the tiny room where Hecate was making her last-minute, pre-wedding preparations. “Don’t see one of those around here.”

“Merlin’s hat, I should hope not.” Hecate wrinkled her nose at the very idea. Standing, she took in Ada’s pale blue dress that exactly matched her eyes and clung to her curves in all the right ways. “I much prefer my beautiful, brilliant bride.” Leaning in, Hecate lost herself for a few moments in a languid kiss. “We’re going to be late,” she whispered once they’d parted.

Ada cast a quick restoration spell on Hecate’s smudged lipstick before doing the same for herself. “They’ll hardly start without us.” She brushed her fingertips over the shirred fabric that covered Hecate’s stomach. The fabric, a deep sapphire color had been spelled to swirl as Hecate moved creating subtle variations in color. It complemented Ada’s dress perfectly. “You look lovely.”

Hecate’s response was cut off by the sound of laughter coming from the hallway. Ada grinned impishly, waggling her eyebrows at her bride-to-be. “It’s quite the crowd. Mrs. Drill is here, and she brought young Dimity. Mona, obviously, along with Mavis.” Her smile faded. “Your parents.”

“I didn’t think they’d come…” Hecate honestly didn’t know how she felt about their presence. “Does my father expect to…?” Surely, he didn’t expect to show up for the first time in nearly twenty years and walk her down the aisle.

Knowing the turn Hecate’s thoughts had taken, Ada shook her head. Vehemently. “No. Mother will walk you; Father will walk me. Just as we planned. I just… I knew you weren’t certain if they’d come, and I didn’t want you to be taken by surprise.”

“Thank you for that.” Before Hecate could say anything else, or even think too much about seeing her parents in person for the first time in years, Alma transferred into the room.

“I should have known this is where I’d find you. Your father’s been looking everywhere for you. I swear the man is about to birth a litter of kittens.” Alma stepped back and held out her arms. “Let me look at the two of you…” Flapping her hands in front of her eyes, Alma blinked away happy tears. “I’m so pleased for the both of you. My beautiful daughters…” She pulled them both into a hug, kissing each one on the cheek before letting them go. “From your father and me.” Alma handed them a tiny box, wrapped in light blue paper with a ribbon cut from the same fabric as Hecate’s dress.

Ada held the box while Hecate pulled the ribbon free. Heads bent together, Ada lifted the lid, revealing a gleaming brass key.

“A cottage, near the lake,” Alma supplied. “For your honeymoon and whenever the two of you want to get away.”

Hecate flung her arms around Alma, tears threatening to ruin her make-up. “Thank you… for everything you’ve done for me, including welcoming me into your family.”

“I think, daughter, you were always meant to be a part of my family.” Alma summoned a pair of handkerchiefs, handing one to Hecate and keeping one for herself. “Now, Agatha and Gwen are already waiting down front.” She turned a sharp eye to Ada. “Your sister has sworn to behave herself.”

“She’s not got much choice about it since the Great Witch is officiating the ceremony,” Hecate muttered drily.

“Och, don’t think that was happenstance. Now go. Let’s get you two married.” She shooed Ada with her handkerchief until Ada transferred away to her own waiting room and her father. An instant later, organ music filled the air. “Shall we?” Alma held out an elbow, smiling encouragingly. Once Hecate linked their arms together, Alma transferred them into place.

Hecate’s eyes widened at the sight of the crowd. It was more than double what she’d expected. Everyone from the faculty had come – even Geraldine Gullet, who sat off to the side with a surly expression on her face. Most had brought husbands or wives, even some children. A few students had come as well. Hecate returned the bright smile beaming at her from Penny Pestle.

She’d been looking around so much, Hecate hadn’t noticed they were supposed to be moving until Alma began to gently tug her down the aisle. Once she was down front, holding Ada’s hand, everything else melted into a soft blur. After promises to love and honor and cherish – but not obey, both of them had rolled their eyes at that one – they reached the final part of the ceremony. Patting his robes nervously, Ada’s father finally produced Hecate’s pocket watch and handed it to Ada.

Ada slipped the pocket watch over Hecate’s head, a visible symbol of her commitment to a lifetime together. After running her fingers over the chain, Hecate turned to Alma, who handed her a silver filigreed brooch. With shaking fingers, Hecate pinned it to Ada’s dress, desperately hoping she didn’t stab her love in the chest.

The exchange of tokens completed, they turned to face the attendees. Hecate took Ada’s hand in a white-knuckled grip. So far, the ceremony had been nothing more than pretty words. She’d meant them, of course – with every fiber in her being she’d meant them – but the true binding had yet to happen. When Ada started speaking to her, she could scarcely make out the words over the pounding of her heart.

“Hecate, you’ve had my heart since the day we met. Being able to spend my life with you was a dream I hardly dared to dream. And if it turns out this is still a dream? I hope I never wake up.” Ada waited for the quiet ripple of laughter to fade away. “You have always been and always will be my first choice.”

“And you have always been mine.” Unable to stop herself, Hecate reached up and traced the curve of Ada’s face, her thumb stroking the widening strip of silvery blonde in her hair.

Softly clearing her throat, the Great Witch handed Ada the marriage scroll. Unrolling the scroll, Ada held it in front of them. Hecate held the other side of it with one hand while their linked hands hung between them. Ada took a deep breath and began to read.

As life’s thread is spun

Through storm and sun,

Before all we stand,

Open hearts, open hands.

Signified by this token, sacred and true,

For then, now, and always, forge one out of two.

The blue light flared again. The guests rose to their feet, applauding and congratulating the happy couple. Gwen waved her baton, and white rose petals fluttered from the ceiling like snow. Ada used their joined hands to pull Hecate into a deep, sweet kiss and Hecate knew that she was home.

#hackle summer trope challenge #hackle #hecate hardbroom #ada cackle #violence #Finished!

13 notes · View notes

noctuascion · 4 years

Note

Don't think I've sent you a prompt yet. So here ya go. Possible fluff prompt: Crypto gets sick and Mirage has to look after him.

Ahh, the good ol' sick fic, my favorite. Ty for your ask!! I'll do my best!!! ✨

---

Mornings were always particularly hard for Park. The night prior was either spent restlessly looking through files on his computer, or he was struggling to remain asleep due to constant nightmares or insomnia. Sleeping was something that merely evaded him, and he was thankful the cameras never zoomed in too much, otherwise they'd see just how fatigued he usually was during games, even if he still managed to pull his weight, if not just by a sliver.

Mornings were spent sleeping in until he couldn't stay in bed any longer. Breakfast was either skipped entirely or the bare minimum—toast and coffee—and all of his other meals were relatively spotty as well. He sometimes forgot lunch entirely, and, if it wasn't for Makoa politely asking him to join them for dinner, he'd probably forget that, too.

He ate very little, unconsciously trying to conserve his food, a habit likely picked up from his days with Mystik at the orphanage. His preference for junk food and takeout didn't provide for a healthy diet either, hence why he could admit he was a bit on the skinny side.

Coupling that with his horrible sleep schedule could likely provide an explanation as to why he woke up one morning feeling uncomfortably warm, head aching something terrible, throat sore, congestion in his nostrils, and limbs weak, a feeling of fragility he despised. He hadn't been feeling the best these past few days, but he had just assumed it was just a lack in sleep.

The hacker groaned when he tried moving, the action upsetting the headache he was currently nursing, before looking to the clock beside his bed. It read six thirty-seven, which meant he was up way earlier than he normally was. The other Legends tended to tackle the day before the sun was at the zenith of its arch, but Park preferred sleeping in, especially on days off.

However, with how horrid he currently felt, like he was overheating in his blankets, he couldn't see himself doing much else besides laying in bed, more miserable than he usually was.

That is until he heard a knock on his door, a rhythmic seven taps that indicated only one person.

"Rise and shine, butterscotch!" came Elliott's voice, providing yet another ridiculous appellation assigned to his person. "You said we could go see that cool fireworks show later, and I thought: why not get there and enjoy the festival for a bit?"

Oh, he had completely forgotten about the supposed "festival" being hosted by Hammond Robotics, some ridiculous, over-the-top celebration about nothing Park could bring himself to care about. He had said he didn't want to go, but Elliott had nearly begged him to go—and he agreed, though he didn't want to be around people for too long. His boyfriend understood his introverted tendencies to a degree, but Park knew there were still aspects he was oblivious to—much like how Park was completely oblivious to any and all aspects of Elliott's extroverted personality.

When no answer was had, Elliott opened the door with the spare key provided, something Park entrusted him with for situations just like these. Sunshine incarnate stepped inaide the surveillance expert's gloomy abode, donning that fond smile and gentle eyes. If Park didn't feel like absolute garbage, he'd happily welcome the other into his room with a hug and a kiss—if he was feeling confident enough, that is.

"Hey, you wanna get up anytime soon?" he asked gently, nothing condescending or belittling in his tone. He sat down on Park's bed, the mattress dipping with the added weight, and cringed upon seeing his boyfriend. "Wow, you look like shit—worse than usual—n-not like you're ugly or bad looking—it's just that you don't sleep much and—"

"I'm sick…" Park managed, immediately regretting it when he heard just how congested he sounded, how his throat burned at uttering just two simple words.

"Y-Yeah, I can tell."

Elliott's too warm hand came to rest on Park's forehead, the back of his hand pressing delicately against heated skin. He already felt like he could snap in half—he didn't need Elliott treating him like he would.

However, Park couldn't find it in himself to be angry—not when Elliott was shining those puppy-like eyes at him, concern painting his handsome features. Frankly, he felt bad for making him worry, but it wasn't exactly something he could stop.

"My poor shortcake. You got hit hard, huh?" the trickster whispered, likely taking into account Park's possible headache, his hand sliding along heated skin to gently cup the other's cheek. "Lemme go to our lil' clinic and grab you some meds. I'll ask Makoa if he can get me some tea for your throat and sinuses, too, m'kay?"

"Unnecessary…" he mumbled, hoping the quieter volume wouldn't elicit any flaring pain; it did, but not as severe. "I'll wait it out… Don't worry…"

"… And you call me an idiot."

Park wasn't exactly the easiest person to get a request from. Elliott had asked him countless times what he wanted and needed, getting the same responses over and over again, like he was a broken record. He hated feeling like a burden, and hated feeling indebted to someone. Elliott had to learn from picking up on social cues just to figure out he wanted a hug. Getting him to voluntarily ask for help, especially since he's too sick to go to the festival, the one Elliott really wanted to take him too, would be potentially be near impossible.

Park was stubborn, but Elliott was, too.

"Sweet angel that fell from the heavens, my beautiful boy, the cutest shortcake to exist—just let me do this for you." Hopefully, the puppy eye look was enough to get his stubborn lover to finally give in and let him be taken care of. "I love the shit out of you, and I hate seeing you sick. Lemme help you feel better—or I'll just have to kiss you better."

"Then you would end up sick, moron." Park pulled up his blanket a bit to cover the cough suddenly shaking his frame, expression pinched and pained; it was probably murder on his already sore throat. "Fine… But I promise to make up for the festival…"

"You don't have to, hon. Just feel better soon."

Despite knowing Park would protest, Elliott leaned down to press a kiss to the other's skin, a hand leaving the comfort of his blanket to swat him away, eliciting a laugh from the trickster.

Quickly, he made his way out of the hacker's room, shutting the door quietly behind him, before hurrying off to fetch the promised items. He asked Makoa first if he'd be willing to make some tea, explaining that Park was feeling under the weather, and even offered to make soup for him. The man was a saint, laughing off Elliott's "would that be asking too much?" with that same boisterous laugh. Afterwards, Elliott made his way to the clinic, their resident medic checking over medications and organizing her supplies. After explaining his symptoms, Ajay provided some ibuprofen, asking if he'd tell Park to "get better soon so they can even the score."

Once the medicine was acquired, Elliott returned to the kitchen, where the scent of ginger and tomato seemed ever so prominent. Makoa waved him over, allowing him to see the progress. He wasn't finished just yet, but he would be soon.

And, once he was, Elliott placed everything on a tray and brought it back to Park's room, where the hacker had fallen asleep in, though his slumber looked anything but peaceful. Elliott set the tray at the end of Park's bed, making sure it wouldn't tip over, before gently placing a hand on the slumbering man's shoulder, gingerly shaking him awake. Glazed over hazel optics moved to blearily stare at Elliott; said man could only smile once seeing him awake.

"Makoa made you some tomato soup and ginger tea, and Ajay gave you some ibuprofen," he said, moving to grab the tray and bring it over. "You think you're strong enough to eat and drink?"

A tired nod was all he got in response, Park's arms moving to push him up into a sitting position. Elliott moved his pillows around a bit so they'd provide some support for him, setting the tray in his lap. The hacker attempted to take a whiff through his congested sinuses, humming when the ginger tea provided some semblance of assistance.

"Okay, you eat, take your meds, and I'll go run you a cold bath."

"Cold…?" the hacker suddenly asked pitifully; he wasn't particularly fond of lower temperatures…

"It's to help with your fever, baby. I doubt feeling like you're cooking alive under your blankets is a good feeling."

Park let out a huff, a hand reaching for his ginger tea and the other taking the recommended dosage of ibuprofen. "I guess you're right…"

"I'm always right. The rightest man on the Frontier. You won't find a righter man than me." Elliott leaned over to press another kiss to heated skin, receiving yet another swat for his efforts, which, in turn, elicited yet another chuckle from the taller. "Enjoy your soup and gross meds, angel cake."

With the wave Park sent his way, Elliott hurried off to do as promised. The bath wasn't frigid, but it was just a little below lukewarm. He didn't want the other actually freezing; his sensitivity to the cold was cute, sure, because it meant more snuggles and hugs when they were out in the cold, but he didn't want to actually bring his boyfriend any discomfort. He even put in that little Nessie rubber toy the other insisted he hated, even though Elliott's seen him admiring it or even having it in his tub when he's washing up.

When he finished, Elliott returned to see Park had finished up most of his soup and that his tea was nearly gone. He assumes he took the medicine; Park's never given him any reason to doubt in the first place.

"Finished?" he asked, receiving a nod. He lifted the tray off the other's lap, setting it on his desk, which had a few takeout containers and papers strewn about. They'd have to clean that later. "You okay enough to walk to the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"Cool, cool."

And, despite the answer that couldn't have been anymore straightforward, Elliott moved forward, pulled the blanket off, slipped his hands under the baffled hacker's legs and back, and lifted him up like he weighed almost nothing. Park's arms unconsciously wrapped around his neck in a panic, already red-hued features darkening at the sudden action.

"I said I can walk," he muttered angrily, glaring up at his uncaring boyfriend, who didn't seem bothered by the scowl adorning the hacker's visage. Frankly, it's lost any intimidation it used to have and just reminds Elliott of a feral but sweet cat.

"I know."

"Then put me down."

"Nah."

"Idiot."

"Shortcake."

And if bathing with Park, who had rested against Elliott's chest the entire time, pliant and quiet, nearly dozing off, wasn't worth missing out on the festival, then watching as the hacker drifted off to sleep later that night, content and comfortable in Elliott's arms, definitely made it worthwhile.

He couldn't help but press a kiss to the other's forehead again, knowing that, if the other was awake, he'd just swat him away like he normally does. Even though Park's fever worsened, fluctuating between stable and unstable, and eventually broke a few days later, Elliott didn't mind any of it, didn't mind the fact that they missed out on a few date opportunities, that they missed movie night and a few hours of sleep. Seeing his lover get better made any problem worth it, and the smile he got was all the reward he ever needed.

#apex legends #crypto #tae joon park #mirage #elliott witt #cryptage #eugh this was corny and GROSS #i hope you at least enjoyed some of it haha #ty so much for the ask!!! they're always immensely appreciated!!!#lenardo does a write

42 notes · View notes