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shadowofahope · 3 years

Text

Treasure || 01

Warnings: smut implied, swearing, mentions of mating and bonding, taking pills

Pairing: Jungkook!BTSHybrid x reader!Hybrid

Premise: He wants to be your treasure.

Author’s notes: This kind of came out of no where, but this is my first time with a hybrid au. I want to get batter at it, so I may come back and redo this later haha, Heavily unedited, I'm tired.

Should I do a part two????

masterlist || part 2

“That’s a wrap!” The director yells from behind the camera.

Finally being able to break out of your stiff posture, shoulders dropping, arms stretching above your head. A groan escapes your body as you feel your muscles relax. Turning to the members of BTS, they are all buzzing with excitement, bringing an end to their busy schedule for today.

The group and yourself say thank you’s and goodbyes to the staff as you are ushered back towards the hair and makeup rooms, chatting amongst yourselves as you make your way.

Making sure to avoid Jungkook's gaze, you opt for walking out a step or three in front of the group. Jungkook trailing closely behind you, but still maintaining a cautious distance.

Jin walking next to you asks if you’re still on for lunch next week. You say yes. He asks if you can come to the company to meet him then you can leave for lunch together. He has work scheduled in the morning but is free after. You agree as you’re off that day already.

You all enter into the change rooms. Changing back into regular clothes. Finishing in the bathroom you head out and over to your duffel bag from the day's schedule.

Casually scanning your phone and talking to Namjoon, with Jungkook standing awkwardly nearby but not engaging in the conversation. You’re waiting for your manager to tell you your car is ready.

The others finally emerge from the other restrooms and changing rooms.

Yoongi mentions Jimin's change in smell. Signalling Jimin's impending heat. Jimin grabs the bottle of suppressants from the counter, not thinking much of it. Announcing that he’s taking one, you not paying much attention. The rattle of the pills pulls your focus, realizing that they are your suppressants. Panicked, you run over to him.

“Jimin NO!” You slap the pills out of his hand before they can reach his mouth.

FOr only a moment, all you can hear is the scattering and breaking of pills on the floor. Confusion hanging heavy in the air.

“What was that?” Jimin asks, eyes large from shock.

“You can't take these. You’ll have to find someone else to lend you some.” You choke out. This isn’t how you wanted to bring up this topic. Hell this alone would lead you to finally tell them everything. Everything…. That’s something you weren’t ready for anyone to know yet.

“But-“ Jimin tries.

“Y/n, the car is ready” Your manager calls from the door way.

“I’m really sorry Jimin. I promise I’ll explain later.” You offer an apology with a smile. He smiles back assuringly, but his scent tells you something different. Fear, for a tiny second he was afraid of you and your outburst. He tries to hide it, but you catch it. Not only his. Fear seeped off of everyone in the room...everyone except one.

Only one person has never shown any signs of fear while being around you. Just knowing that, made heat pool in your lower stomach.

“Oh-ok…Jin!” Jimin redirects. “Do you have any on yours?”

“Yea, let me grab them” Jin chimes up brightly. Releasing comforting pheremones into the room. Clearly trying to relax predator and prey alike. ANd it does work. It always works.

Jungkooks eyes are the only ones that linger on you. Worry evident as he chews on his bottom lip, doe eyes following you around the room as you grab your stuff and follow your manager out.

💜♾💜♾💜

Making your way into Hybe, waving at fellow idols. You text Jin that you’ve arrived, he responds that his work is taking longer than expected and asks if you can wait a little while. You say yes and tell him you’re headed to the cafe.

The discomfort on your body grows, body feeling heavier with every step. You took double suppressants this morning, as you could feel your pheromones going into overdrive. Your 5 senses focusing on everything, like they were searching for something..or someone. You guessed it was about time for your heat. You had messaged the guys in the group chat about going into preheat the night prior. They all insisted it would be fine as long as you took your pills, reluctantly you agreed.

Turning down the hallway before the cafe, the heat in your stomach grew into an inferno. You don’t get a chance to think about what’s going on when you run right into Jungkook. He catches you in his arms. Your scent sends a flash through his eyes. His own scent explodes from his body. Your cold skin feeling unbearably warm, under his large hands. Lungs filling with his intoxicating smell, almost losing all control right there and then. You shove away from him with enough force to make him falter to his knees. You can’t stop your body trembling as you look down at him. Staff members begin running over to him, while you make a mad dash away from him.

Forcing yourself to focus on Jin's comforting scent you run in his direction. He’s coming down another hallway, away from the cafe. He was looking for you there, but couldn’t find you.

“Jin!” You yell, throwing yourself in his arms.

“Y/n?” He manages to catch you just in time. His scent filling your lungs, making your mind refocus.

“Jin I need help, my heat-” Choking on each word as you force yourself to blink back tears in your eyes.

“Oh my god.” He holds you close as he’s hit with your scent. FIghting back his own rising instincts to your body calling every unmated man to you. T claim you, mate you.

“But how did you go into heat? You just started preheat last night? It’s not possible.” Jin gasps. Arms still latched around your waist.

“Yea I know, thanks. I need you to get me out of here.” You whisper to him as you hear footsteps approaching. You can smell the two males before they were even close.

“Wait y/n’s in heat too?” Namjoon questions from behind you. You try to peel yourself off of Jin to look at them. “Oh god, your smell-“

“What do you mean? Someone else is in heat?” Jin pulls away from you to look at the others.

“Jk burst into a full blown rut. They’re taking him to a rut room. Or at least trying to. He’s really fighting it. I’ve never seen him this aggressive before.” Jimin explains, eyes shaking as he stares at you. His instincts are screaming at him to go to you. But he, along with Jin, are doing their absolute damnedest to control themselves.

A scream is heard throughout the building, instantly you all know who it’s coming from. Pain shoots thorough you, stomach returning to its previous inferno. Clutching at your stomach you almost topple over, but regain your balance. Jin stares at you concerningly, but the realization hits him all too quickly.

“…oh my god y/n!!! Your preheat triggered JKs rut and his rut started your heat.” He states, alittle too loudly for the now pounding in your head.

“Fuck, I know! Trust me I know. That’s why you have to get me out of here!”

“You’re seriously still fighting this?! That poor boy has been pining over you for months and this is legitimate proof that you guys are meant to be and you’re still trying to get out of it? Why? Why is this so hard for you to accept?” He protests angrily.

“I cant. I cant be with him. I cant let him mate with me.” You sigh, once the pain lets up.

“What would be so wrong with that?” Jin demands, arms crossing infront of his chest. You can feel the annoyance surging through his scent.

“He’s only a bunny, Jin” You say slowly, staring at the ground.

“You’re really using that predator and prey bullshit?” Hands going lax at his sides, his blatant emotions in the air shifting to disappointment.

“No!” You look at him frantically, only to be met with a fresh wave of pain, Jimin catches you in his arms. You try to regain your thoughts and continue to explain. “Not only is he a bunny, he’s an idol. An extremely famous, well sought out, millions of people want to be with him, idol.”

“Don’t use his fame as an excuse.” Jin spits out between clenched teeth. He’s seething now. He can’t believe you would stoop so low to use his breed and status as excuses to force him away from you.

“It’s not-I don’t know how to explain this well.“ Leaning against Jimin for support. You breathe deeply before standing your ground and looking at your closest friend straight in his eyes. Unwavering. “I’m a dragon. What do Dragons do?”

Searching his eyes for understanding, but all you’re met with is confusion.

“We covet. Our greed is unmatched. Illogical. We are possessive, and greedy. If I mate with him, I’m more likely to lock him in a room for the rest of his life, never letting anyone see or hear him again. Or even worse, I could kill him. I don’t have control of the obsession. It’s not that I don’t want him, it’s that I’d want him too much.”

Now able to look at all three males, its time, even just a little to let them truly in.

“Why do you think there are so few dragon hybrids left? We’ve driven ourselves to madness. We’re uncontrollable. Why do you think my suppressants are so lethal to other hybrids?” You make a pointed look at Jimin, recalling the incident a week prior.

Jungkooks scream breaks through your vulnerable moment, crashing pain into your body and mind. Your legs give out, but no one is fast enough to catch you. You're sitting on the floor, trying to maintain deep breaths as opposed to the panicked shallow ones your body wants to give into. You can see the men infront of you visibly struggle. The pain is starting to turn into a lust, you won’t be able to hold off for long. Looking up into the faces of the males, your misty eyes, lips open, red flush creeping up against the blue tinted flesh of your body and the smell of your now leaking arousal is breaking them, all stagger back to be able to breathe again.

“I’m mated and her scent is starting to affect me.” Namjoon states, hand covering his mouth, trying not to breathe you in. “We have to do something. Quickly.”

“Is there any way you can help him? Without mating him?” Jimin asks desperately.

“Can you hold yourself back enough?” Namjoon questions.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t think that’s possible” Forcing your mind to think about the situation at hand and not the 2 unmated males in front of you. Their scents slowly creeping into your already hazy mind. Your eyes racking over their bodies, half lidded cobalt eyes now taking over your normal colour.

“Muzzle…what about your muzzle?” Jin stammers out, ripping his gaze from you.

“Huh?” Namjoon and Jimin shout in unison.

“I can't guarantee I won’t try to take it off. I’ll be too far gone in a frenzy to care about the pain.” The muzzle was made for your heats. You became dangerous during your cycle, and the only thing that kept you away from tearing out the throats of your guardians during that time was your muzzle. Made with a metal that you yourself could not open, searing your flesh on contact. Impossible for you to take off without help. Well when you weren’t driven into a mate induced heat. There’s only one place that could possibly hold you, and as much as you didn’t want to go back there. It was the safest option.

“We can't risk it.”

💜♾💜♾💜

“Honestly if you were to tie him up in your apartment to keep him for yourself he’d be thrilled.” Jin states as he continues to look around the tiny one room you’ll be staying in.

“This isn’t funny.” You snap at him.

The pain and heat between your legs had lessened enough for them to get you here, with help from your guardians of course. The farther distance you had from Jungkook the better. His scent no longer intoxicates you, but still lingering on your skin from where he touched you.

“No it’s not. That boy is so absolutely smitten with you, if he knew you wanted him this badly he’d be the happiest man on the planet.” Jin gestures to your cold prison. Cement walls, floor and ceiling. Steal bars over the only window you had. A metal cot, with what looked like a metal prison toilet was all that was in the room.

“He’s not a child y/n. He understands the gravity of what you are. And he still wants to be with you.” Namjoons soothing voice coming from the doorway.

“He isn’t thinking about it for the group though. I’d need to be with him 24/7, or else I’d lose it. I would probably kill someone if I wasn’t with him. On tours, interviews, shoots, filming, even just on days off, I'd never be able to be apart from him.” You exclaim, exasperated facing the window, away from them. Why weren’t they understanding the gravity of you mating with Jungkook?

“He has, y/n. He brought it up to all of us before. He’s already asked us about it.” Jimin offers hopefully.

“What?” Turning to face them, unable to hide the shock from your face or in your scent.

“He wants you to be with him all the time. He’s needy, whether that be the bunny in him or if that’s just jungkook, who knows. But he wants all that. With you.” Jimin opens up more about their Bunny maknae.

Thoughts reel through your head, you force them out with a shake. This is safer. This will keep him safe. This will allow him to continue to live his life freely. Unbound to an obsessive, dangerous hybrid.

Muffle voices come from the hall outside, your guardians announcing that they had to lock you in now.

“Are you sure about this?” Jimin tries one last time, beggin you to return to Hybe. Be with his friend. Stop you both from feeling this pain. But your resolution is set. You’ve made up your mind.

“No. I’m terrified.”

Between Jungkook's freedom and your life. You’d pick him every time.

You give them a reassuring nod before they step out of the room, the steel doors closing behind them. The locking mechanism ominously echoes against the concrete of the walls. Locked in. There’s a window, allowing you to look out, but it’s lined with steel bars as well as you’re 18 stories up. Hopefully it can hold you long enough for his rut to pass. This isn’t the first time you’d been locked in here and it probably won't be your last.

💜♾💜♾💜

“It’s been over a week and Jungkook is still locked up in that rut room.” Jin shouts angrily at you. “What the hell is going on? What aren’t you telling us?”

Silence.

“I understand you wanting to be quiet about your heats and the possibility of being Jungkook mate, and even the potential dangers. But THIS.” His patience is running thin. He couldn’t bear to see his maknae in so much pain, and for so long. “this is too much. What is happening to him?!”

“I’m not…sure.” Finally finding your voice. “This isn't a normal heat for me. This is something so much more intense, the waves. The pain.”

“If his rut is connected to my heat, we might have a really big problem.” Perched on the side of your cot, you stare at the ground. Running through your options of having to explain your complicated heats. A topic you had a hard time understanding yourself.

“-what.”

“I don’t have regular heats. They don’t show up every few months, as spouts of ‘needing to breed’, waking up from horny induced relapse.”

Finally making eye contact with Jin.

“I’ve taken suppressants every day of my life Jin. Every. Day.” Eyes pleading with him, pleading for something you don’t even understand. “It’s like being in preheat for your whole life. The suppressants take the edge and pain away.”

“But before-?”

“What you felt. Hell, what everyone has felt is my preheat while I’m on suppressants. They can't stop my heat, they just dull it.”

“Wait. How is that possible? We’ve known you for almost a year and we’ve never had an issue before?” Jin is completely bewildered. Nothing was adding up anymore. He thought he was confused before but now? Oh hell, he was really losing it.

“I haven’t gone into heat since knowing you.” Your voice drops to a whisper. Alot was still unknown about your kind, with so few of you left it was almost impossible to be observed. Especially with many of you dying so young.

Jin's face pales. “When was the last time you went into heat?”

“Three years ago.” Voice barely coming out in anything more than an exhale.

“THREE YEARS?!”

You flinch.

💜♾💜♾💜

“Noona, this has been going on too long. It’s been two weeks. They won’t let him out until he shows some sign of breaking through his rut.” Jimin chews on his bottom lip, the only smell lacing his scent is concern.

You can’t help but shudder at the thought of Jungkook alone in a rut room. Begging for release. For you. You can only imagine his crisp scent bursting tenfold, mixing with unbearable lust and need. You feel a heat pool between your legs. The room filling with your own lust scented pheromones.

“You’re not doing that much better..” Jimin mumbles, breaking your train of luid thoughts. Shifting uncomfortably against the wetness soaking your underwear.

“I’m doing the best I can.” You sigh.

Namjoon and Jimin exchange looks. Exasperation leaves your body, a deep throating whine leaving your already falting focus.

“Look- I’m doing everything I possibly can to stop myself from tearing this city apart to get to him. He’s haunting me. Every day, every hour, every minute and every second.” Your body begins to tremble at how easy it would be for you to break this country, if it tried to stand in your way.

“He’s across town?” Namjoon questions.

“but I can still hear him…smell him…taste him in the air.” “If you don’t lock me in a box and bury me 50ft under, I’m about ready to make a run for it.”

You all hear a loud banging from outside the room. The locks screech as they are being unlocked. You all stand there completely dumbfounded. But in your shock you're too slow to realize the scent seeping from the hallway.

“THAT’S IT.” Jin screams, as he bolts into the room, throwing one of Jungkook's sweaters at your head.

You don’t move. You let it collide with your face. Instantly the smell hits you, body clenching around nothing. Slowly you peel it away, grasped in a death grip. Eyes glowing cobalt, blue shining from the back of your throat from your chest, ice breathing creeping from your mouth. This smell. Jungkook’s smell. His rut lingers on the fabric, engulfing your entire being.

Before you can regain your humanity, you lurch backward, sweater in hand, as you pull off the metal bars from the window, throwing the broek steel and cement to the ground. You throw your body through the glass window, landing on your feet 18 stories bellow. Pain shoots up from your feet into your calves and knees, but it doesn’t stop you. You take off running in the direction of his scent. Passing people on the sidewalk, crossing busy streets not bothering to check the lights, jumping over cars stopped in your way.

Lungs screaming for breath as your make your way into the Hybe sanctioned building. You’ve slowed to a walk. The predator in you coming out, your instincts setting you into a prowl. The guards of Junkgooks door don’t try to stop you as you walk up to it, slowly inhaling the dangerously strong scent fighting it’s way out from behind the locked door. You turn the lock, slowly opening the door, not stopping your steps as you’re falling immersed in it. Someone from outside closes the door behind you. Slumping back against it, your senses are fully taken from you, you close your eyes allowing yourself to drift. The air is thick, only made worse when you hear the bathroom door clock open, the air now almost choking you.

“Noona..?” Jungkook’s feeble voice breaks through your thoughts. Still leaning back on the door, you slowly peel your eyes open. He’s wearing nothing but a loose pair of nike gym shorts. Your mind begins to drift back, eyes following the curves of his sculpted chest, broad shoulders and slim waist. Mouth running dry as all the moisture in your body migrates to your underwear once again. You can almost feel it running down your legs.

“Kook” You plead, for something you’re not sure about. Reality hitting right then and there. “No, I need to go. I need to leave”

You make a weak attempt at turning around to leave the room.

“No Noona!” Jk shout, tears falling out of his beautiful large brown eyes. Angrily staring down at your feet. “Why won’t you let it be me? Why can't it be me? What’s so wrong about me?”

Panic risen. Your urge to soothe and comfort him is almost overwhelming. Almost.

“I want you kook.” You finally admit out loud. His ears perk up, his glassy eyes finally looking at you again. “But I can't have you.”

Tears continue to silently fall down his face. He questions you silently.

A wave of his rut hits him again, he staggers back catching himself against the foot of the bed.

You scream in pain as your insides feel like they are being twisted around a branding spike. Your cool skin is set ablaze. Thankfully the door keeps you up right.

You see the look of realization hit him, but you barely have the energy now to dismiss him. He takes a step toward you on shaky legs. He watches your pupils dilate.

Another step, your eyes bleeding to cobalt. Legs shaking uncontrollably.

Another step, the blue glow from your chest and throat begin to shine anew.

“Don’t.” You plead.

“Noona let me be the one.” Another step. You have become the prey.

“Let yourself have me.” Another step, the chilled mist falls from your mouth. Now you really do feel it sliding down the inside of your thigh.

Now he’s standing right in front of you, less than an arm's reach away.

“Let me be your treasure“

masterlist || part 2

For real though, do let me know any and every critic you have! What you think I should change or what you liked about it! And please let me know if you want a part 2.

💜♾💜♾💜

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hellsenthero · 3 years

Text

New Life

Written by: hellsenthero

Bucky X FemReader

Just as Bucky gets home from his mission you find out you’re pregnant. With a flustered mind you quickly leave your fiancé at home to go out making Bucky draw to some wrong conclusions.

Square filled: Pregnant Reader

Warnings: None. (1.6k Words)

**********

A sudden gasp escaped your lips as you looked down at the little white stick in your hands, the two pink lines staring up at you reeling you back into reality.

“Ohhh…” Is the only word in your vocabulary as you continue to stare with wide eyes, your mouth half open in shock before a knock on the bathroom door rattles you.

“Y/N,” Bucky says from the other side of the door, “I’m back. You in there?” Shoving the test into the pocket of your hoody you clear your throat before answering your fiancé.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” You hastily began cleaning up the bathroom, making sure to hide the pregnancy test box and instructions at the very bottom of the trash, you hadn’t expected Bucky to be home from his mission just yet. You also hadn’t told him about your missed period or pregnancy concerts. After all, he’d told you before that he didn’t think he could even have kids with all the shit Hydra’s put his body through.

Well guess what Bucky, turns out you can knock a girl up. You think to yourself. With all evidence hidden away, you take a calming breath as you look yourself over in the mirror. Your eyes are slightly glassy, dark bags beneath from the many early mornings you’ve spent with your head in the toilet, your face is flushed with equal parts shock and excitement and you can’t help but smile at yourself in the mirror. You’re going to have a baby.

You’ve always liked the idea of having kids, so while this was all a shock to you, you weren’t disappointed at all, you were happy. The only question in your mind now was; would Bucky be happy about this?

Stepping out of the bathroom you walk over to Bucky who’s sat patiently on the bed, waiting for the bathroom to free up so he can wash away all the dirt and sweat from his body.

“You’re back early, everything go okay?” You ask him, wrapping your arms around his neck you press a quick kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, we got all the intel we were after.” He answers as he slides his hands down your back and towards your waist. You pull back quickly before stepping out of Bucky’s arms. With the pregnancy test hidden in your pocket you couldn’t have him wrapping his arms around you there and finding out about your little secret. Not yet, anyways. You pretend to not see the concern in your fiancé’s eyes as you walk over to your wardrobe, pulling free your jacket you slip it on before facing Bucky.

“I’m gonna head out to the store, there’s some things I need to pick up. You should wash up, there’s left over pasta in the fridge if you’re hungry.” Before you can get an answer back, you leave the room.

Going to the store was an obvious lie to both you and Bucky, but in your frazzled state, you don’t particularly care. Instead you head out in the direction of your local coffee shop, pulling out your phone you call the one person who you think has the answers you’re looking for--Steve.

“Hey Steve,” you begin after he picks up on the second ring, “do you have some free time right now by any chance?”

“Hi Y/N, yeah I’m free. Is everything okay?” He asks. A small smile graces your lips at his words. With his friendship with Bucky and concern for others you couldn’t help but love and trust the Captain.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just hoping we could talk about some things. It's about Bucky so if he texts you please don’t let him know we’re meeting, he thinks I’m out at the store.”

“Uh, yeah, sure thing.” Steve answers, you can hear by his tone of voice he’s trying to figure out what’s going on with you and Bucky.

“Great, then I’ll meet you at the Espresso Hut.” You tell him before hanging up.

It’s only ten minutes later before Steve shows up wearing a baseball cap and shades in a pathetic attempt to stay anonymous to others.

“Hey,” you greet him as he takes the seat opposite you, his hands wrapping around the warm latte you took the liberty of ordering for him.

“Hey, you sure everything’s okay Y/N/N? We don’t usually meet like this.” Talking a sip of your decaf coffee, something you’ll unfortunately have to get used to over the next nine or so months, you nod your head.

“Yeah, well I wanted to ask you…” you pause, thinking over your next words, “has Bucky ever talked to you about wanting kids?” Steve’s eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting your question. “I know this is personal, but everytime I try talking to him about it he just changes topics. The most he’s said on the matter is that he doesn’t think he can have kids, but he’s never told me if he even wants them. I was hoping maybe, well, maybe he’s told you more on the matter?” You ask softly. You look away from Steve’s knowing gaze to down at your lap, your hands folded over top your stomach as you fiddle with your fingers nervously.

“You’re pregnant?” Steve says it less as a question and more as a statement but still, you nod your head and answer.

“Yeah, I just found out and I’m happy about it, really happy. I just don’t know if Bucky will be and it’s stressing me out, I don’t think I could handle him being disappointed at this.” You say truthfully as you look back up. Steve’s full lips spread into a wide smile before he’s leaning across the table and wrapping a gentle arm around you.

“Congratulations Y/N, that’s great news.”

“Thanks.” You say before pulling back from the hug. Situating himself in his seat once more Steve reaches a hand out to you, clansping it gently he gives a small squeez.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, doll.” A light blush covers your cheeks as you smile.

“Really?” You can’t help but double check.

“Really.” Steve answers with a small nod and wide smile.

“Well, in that case I really should be heading out to the store.” You tell him.

By the time you enter your front door you’d been gone for a little over two hours. Stepping inside the fresh scent of vanilla catches your nose as heavy footsteps make their way towards you.

“You’ve been gone for two hours.” Bucky says by way of greeting as he comes around the corner.

“Yeah sorry about that, I had a few different places to go to.” You say as you shake off your jacket. Bucky nods his head but you see a flash of worry in his eyes as he looks away from you and down at the floor. “What’s wrong?” You ask him as you take a step towards him, your hand coming to rest gently against Bucky’s cheek. Your fiancé shrugs his shoulders as his head tilts up, his blue eyes meeting your own.

“You tell me. I’ve been gone for a week on a mission and the second I get home you can’t wait to be rid of me, so much so that you literally ran out the door.” He says, gesturing to your front door behind you. “Are you upset about the missions?” He asks.

“Oh bub, no,” you say softy, shaking your head at him, “I just, I found out some news just before you got home and then I had to go out to get some...stuff, for it.” Bucky’s dark brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes looking you over.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice thick with concern. You nod your head as you gently push him back from you before you grab his hand and walk him into your living room.

“I’m fine. But I have something for you.” Sitting Bucky on the couch you reach into the shopping bag you carried with you into the house. Pulling out a white box that you got the cashier to wrap up at the store you set it gently onto Bucky’s lap. “Open it up.” You tell him.

With a look of curiosity Bucky gently undoes the yellow ribbon on the box before opening it up. With both hands he pulls out a small grey onesie with Daddy’s sidekick written on the front in bold black letters. Bucky’s blue eyes widen in shock, his mouth dropping open as he looks between you and the onesie and back again.

“Really?” He gasps. With tears threatening to slip down your cheeks you nod your head, a smile gracing your lips.

“Are you-” Before you can finish your question, Bucky’s already standing before you and wrapping you tightly in his arms, his face coming to rest in the crook of your neck where you can feel his hot tears against your skin.

“We’re having a baby.” He whispers.

“We’re having a baby.” You repeat with joy. Bucky pulls away from your neck, his eyes meeting yours.

“You’ve made me the happiest man in this whole damn galaxy, you know that Y/N/N.” Before you can answer Bucky is already kneeling on the floor, resting his forehead against your stomach and his hands on your waist he whispers softly, “Hi baby, it’s your pop. You have no idea how many nights I’ve dreamt about you. I love you so much already.”

As a laugh escapes you at his words you can’t help but think to yourself; this new chapter is going to be something special.

------------

I hope you enjoyed the read, don’t forget to check out Bucky Bingo.

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calamitykaty · 3 years

Text

A Twist of Fate

Charlie x Fem! Reader

Word count:7670

Warnings: Slight Swearing, I think that’s it?

Requested: Sorta? It’s a multi writer topic by @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic revolving around the idea of y/n finding an ad to rent a date for Thanksgiving. *You can find the first writers fic HERE

A/N: HUGE thank you to @dream-a-little-bigger-x for reading every rough draft of this that I sent her, along with bouncing ideas with me! Also a huge thank you to @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic for supporting me when I got stuck and reading my super rough draft!

I wasn’t gonna post this until tomorrow but now I have a Christmas Reggie fic that I want to post tomorrow so...Happy Reading.

Y/N wrapped the buffalo plaid scarf around her neck and pulled her favorite slouchy red beanie over her thick mop of curls. Her cellphone was pressed between her right shoulder and ear as she buttoned up her navy peacoat and half-listened to her mom rattle off the preparations she needed to make for Thanksgiving.

“Mom, I really need to…” Y/N attempted to interject only to be cut off by her mother. She placed the phone on speaker and set it down on the counter while she slipped her feet into a pair of black boots. She had stopped listening to her mother’s droning voice nearly a half-hour beforehand, but her ears perked up when her mother asked the dreaded question.

“Are you bringing Noah this year honey? I know you guys like to alternate holidays with his family, but your Aunt Martha is going to make it this year and she is just tickled to finally get to meet him.”

Y/N pursed her lips and ran a hand over her face, she hadn’t told anyone that Noah broke things off with her two months prior. She hadn’t meant to keep it a secret for so long, but her mom loved Noah and she just knew she would blame her for ruining a good thing. She had been dating Noah for three years and it was perfect until Noah started talking about marriage and Y/N began to realize that she couldn’t picture her entire life with him. Noah felt like a moment in time to her, not an eternity.

“I’ll have to check, Mom, I don’t know what Noah is doing yet.” Y/N settled on a half-truth to buy herself some time. She placed her elbows on the edge of the counter and rested her head in her hands.

“Honey, I need to know by the end of the week, okay?”

She could hear the irritation in her mother's voice at the non-answer that Y/N had given to her. Her mother was a meticulous planner and she could not stand curve balls making a mess of her perfect holiday plans. Her mother treated every holiday as if the editors of Better Homes & Gardens were going to drop in at any moment and do a two-page spread on her decor and perfect meal.

“Got it, mom! I have to go!” Y/N quickly ended the phone call and shoved her phone into her pocket. She huffed out a heavy sigh and made her way to her front door, grabbing her keys from the catch-all bowl on the table next to the door. She quickly locked up her apartment and rushed down the two flights of stairs to the small community lobby. She adjusted the scarf around her neck and reached for the door but stopped as a new flyer on the community board caught her eye. She took a step back and ripped the paper from the thumbtack that held it to the cork board and shoved it into her coat pocket before pulling the door open.

Her hair whipped around her face as she stepped outside and was met with the cool autumn breeze that had settled in over the last month. Y/N looked both ways before stepping off of the sidewalk and hurrying across the street where her best friend, Leigha, was already waiting for her inside the small corner cafe.

“How is it that I have to drive from the other side of town and can make it on time but you literally live across the street and can’t?” Leigha teased as Y/N unraveled her scarf and took her coat off, draping both over the back of her chair before sitting down.

“Sorry! Sorry! My mother…” Y/N rolled her eyes as she recalled the phone call.

“Enough said!” Leigha laughed, she had one of those laughs that turned heads. Her laugh was always a little too loud and sometimes she would snort, it always caused Y/N to break into a fit of giggles. Leigha had been Y/N’s roommate all the way through college and they had been inseparable since the very first day they had met.

“So,” Leigha crossed her arms on top of the table,” did you work up the courage to tell her about Noah?”

Y/N shifted her gaze across the cafe and bit her lip “not exactly…”

“You are unbelievable, y/n ” Leigha sighed, exasperated.

Y/N snapped her eyes back to Leigha and held her hands up in defense “I tried! Well...I mean…I tried to try…”

“You know if you show up stag and your mother already has a place setting for a plus one, you might as well just go ahead and bury yourself, honestly” Leigha tutted.

“That’s why I have a plan!” Y/N turned around and rustled through the pockets of her peacoat before placing the crumpled flyer on the table. She smoothed her hands over the paper and pushed it towards the middle of the table.

Leigha snatched the paper up as the waitress came over and took their orders, Leigha ordered a blueberry scone with a chai tea while Y/N ordered a croissant with a side of strawberry preserves and a coffee.

“I mean…” Leigha read over the paper before sliding it back over to Y/N, “you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Y/N bit her lip and stared down at the flyer, re-reading it for the fourth time before she pulled out her phone and scanned the QR code to bring up the app.

“I can’t believe I am actually this desperate to try to literally purchase a date a week before Thanksgiving.” She muttered as she began to fill out her profile.

“Wait! Thanksgiving is next week? As in a week from today? I haven’t even made my Thanksgiving Pinterest board yet!” Leigha panicked and grabbed her face.

Y/N looked up from her phone and shook her head at Leigha’s antics “why do you need a Pinterest board? You literally do the same thing every single year.”

“Yeah…” Leigha jutted her bottom lip out in a pout, “but I want people to think that I am making all of these intricate and super cute appetizers and stuff. It’s the illusion that I care about!”

Y/N looked up and thanked the waitress as she set the food and coffee down in front of her before turning her attention back to Leigha who was eagerly biting into her scone.

“Help me answer these?” She passed her phone over to the girl and picked up the knife, spreading the strawberry preserves onto her croissant.

“Beach or Mountains?” Leigha readout with her mouth half full.

“Mountains!” Both girls yelled out at the same time and burst into giggles. They continued down the row of questions, passing the phone back and forth until Y/N finally hit the submit button. Leigha practically yanked the phone from Y/N’s hand as the algorithm began to shoot out potential matches. Her thumb scrolled through the pictures at lighting speed before she stopped and slowly scrolled back up before thrusting the phone in Y/N’s face.

“This one! Oh my god, this one! And if you don’t select the platinum package so that boy can say he loves you then I will literally never speak to you again!”

Y/N wiped the jam from her chin and grabbed the phone from Leigha. He was cute, there was no doubt about that but unlike Leigha, she cared about what his profile said about him. She scrolled through his pictures, one of him playing guitar, one hiking, one surrounded by friends around a campfire. Lover of nature, endless adventure, campfire songs, and sharing the love with my friends. I’ll jump if you jump, let’s take this plunge together?

She felt her lips curl up into a soft smile as she whispered his name to herself, liking the way that it rolled so easily off of her tongue.

“I told yooouuuu!” Leigha sang out and crossed her arms over her chest, a smug look on her face.

Y/N placed the phone on the table and tried to control the blush that she could fill rising to her cheeks, “calm down,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m paying for a Thanksgiving date, not falling in love.” She selected the platinum option and typed in her credit card number before clicking the purchase open without a second hesitation.

“I better be your maid of honor!” Leigha teased as the two girls dropped the appropriate amount of money onto the table and began to layer their coats and scarves back on. Y/N pulled the girl into a hug and placed a kiss on her cheek before heading back across the street towards her apartment.

She had just placed the keys back into her catch-all bowl by the door when her phone began to ding. She felt her heart begin to race as she saw the approval message on her screen that Charlie had accepted her request to rent him as her Thanksgiving date.

“Oh my god...okay...okay, this is fine...everything is fine.” She muttered to herself as she received another notification that Charlie had messaged her. She set her phone down on the counter and peeled her coat and scarf off before slipping her feet out of her boots. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans and grabbed her phone, refusing to look at it until she had settled in on her couch. She crossed her feet under her and pulled a throw pillow to her chest before finally sliding up on the notification and reading the message that he sent.

Let's get to know each other? Lunch tomorrow?

Y/N hesitated for a moment before her fingertips began to slide across the keyboard on her screen.

Sounds good! How do you feel about chicken & waffles? I know a place!

She read over what she had sent several times, worried that she sounded too eager. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears as she waited for his response, watching as several dots appeared and disappeared several times on her screen before he finally sent his response.

A girl after my own heart! How is 12:30? Send me the address?

She felt her cheeks grow warm at his response and mentally reminded herself that he was just being kind and that she was quite literally paying for him.

500 Rue Kennedy Dieppe, NB. and 12:30 is perfect! I’ll see you then!

Y/N took a deep breath and closed the app before her thumb hovered over her mother’s contact. She quickly clicked on her number and quietly whispered to herself “please don’t answer, please don’t answer, please don’t answer.”

“Thank god!” she exclaimed as the phone sent her to voicemail. She rolled her eyes at her mother’s elaborate message before finally being told to leave her message at the sound of the beep.

“Hi, mom...it’s me...I just wanted to let you know that you will need to make sure to set an extra place setting for thanksgiving. Love you.” She rattled off, keeping the message vague but to the point.

The following day Y/N stood inside of her closet staring at her assortment of clothes trying to decide what said “I'm cool and definitely not desperate even though I paid for a date for Thanksgiving because my family is insane.”

She pulled a mustard yellow cable knit sweater from a hanger and laid it out on her bed before heading back to her closet. Her fingers sorted through the variety of skirts before settling on a silky, pleated navy skirt that was cinched at the waist. She laid the skirt out next to the sweater before moving over to her vanity.

She sat on the poof chair and stared at her reflection for a brief moment before pulling the small drawer to the left open and lining up her primers, eye palette, eyeliner, mascara, and her signature red lipstick. She grabbed the mason jar that sat on the right tableside of the vanity and grabbed the appropriate brushes, lining those up as well.

She used her middle finger of her right hand to gently swipe the eyeshadow primer onto her eyelids before dusting the brush across a shimmery gold eyeshadow. She used a maroon eyeshadow on her crease and slowly blended the colors until she achieved a golden and subtle smokey eye.Y/N shook her hands out to steady her nerves before slowly pulling the liquid eyeliner across her eyelids and flicking it softly at the end for a subtle cat-eye before she carefully built volume on her eyelashes with the mascara. Finally, she grabbed the matte red lipstick and carefully swiped it across her lips before blotting them with a tissue.

Y/N jumped at the sound of her phone vibrating on her nightstand. She moved across the room and grabbed the phone from the charger.

See you soon!

She felt the nerves settle back into her stomach and wiped her clammy hands on her pajama pants before quickly undressing. She pulled the yellow cable knit sweater over her head, careful not to let it touch her face. She followed that by pulling on the pleated navy skirt, the fabric falling just above her knee. She pulled on the fabric of the sweater at her waist so that it slightly hung over the waistband of the skirt before she slipped her feet into a pair of black pointed flats. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and pulled her curls over her shoulders before grabbing her purse and slinging it across her body.

Y/N entered the bustling restaurant and let her eyes wander across the tables trying to find Charlie. She wrung her hands together and pulled her lips into a thin line when she didn’t see him, her heart dropping at the thought that she had been stood up or even worse, that she had really fallen for a scam. She turned on her left foot and reached for the door, barely pulling it open before she felt a hand on her shoulder. She let go of the door, resulting in a soft thud as it closed.

“Y/N? You weren’t about to bail on me were you?” The soft voice teased as she turned around.

“I thought you had stood me up, actually.” She could feel the blush that dusted across her cheeks at the accusation. Her left hand fell to her right wrist, her fingers loosely wrapping around it as she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes and offered an apologetic smile.

Charlie’s green eyes crinkled at the edges and his nose scrunched up as he laughed “take the money and run, I wish I would have thought of that!”

“Oh..” Y/N looked back at the door and then back towards Charlie, “if you don’t want to do this, it’s fi--”

Charlie smiled softly at her “I was just teasing, I didn’t want to sit at the table by myself in case you didn’t show and have to do the walk of shame, so I was at the bar.”

Charlie placed his right hand on the small of her back and guided her to a table in the middle of the bustling restaurant. He pulled her chair out for her before taking a seat on the opposite side of the table. Y/N tucked her hair behind her ears and glanced at the menu, though she already knew what she was going to order. The waiter, a young kid, probably seventeen stopped by their table and quickly took their order.

Y/N finally looked up to find Charlie staring at her, his face cradled in his hands with his elbows propped up on the table.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just trying to figure out why a very beautiful girl would need to rent a date for a Holiday.”

Y/N felt herself blush at his compliment and shrugged her left shoulder “I got dumped.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry”

She smiled and waved him off “It’s no big deal, we wanted different things out of life. He wanted marriage and I,” she hesitated, she hadn’t talked about this with anyone other than Leigha.

“You what?”

“I want adventure and I know that sounds silly. Like, of course, you can have adventure and marriage but Noah,” she paused, “that’s my ex.”

Charlie nodded and gestured for her to continue, “Noah works in the financial district and he wanted marriage and kids and stability….and I barely know what I want to eat for breakfast let alone what I want for eternity.”

“You’re a free spirit, nothing wrong with that!” Charlie interjected and Y/N felt her first genuine smile of the night spread across her face.

“You get it.”

“I do get it.”

Y/N thanked the waiter as he sat down two beers along with their orders of chicken and waffles, before turning back to Charlie.

“So, tell me about your family. What should I prepare myself for?” Charlie lifted the pint glass to his lips and took a sip of the amber-colored beer.

‘Well,” Y/N blew air into her cheeks and sighed, “my mother thinks she’s Martha Stewart. So be sure to compliment the decor as soon as you see her. You’ll win her over for sure...and maybe don’t mention the whole free spirit thing or you will definitely end up on her list of terrible suitors that I have brought home.”

“Noted.” Charlie nodded before adding, “and your dad?”

“My dad is easy going, just talk about beer and hockey and you'll be fine.”

Charlie threw his head back in laughter and Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way his whole face lit up when he laughed. She felt a flutter in her stomach as Charlie leaned forward so that his forearms rested on the table and his fingers lightly brushed across hers before he pulled back. Y/n pulled her hands off of the table and dropped them into her lap, her fingers lightly traced over the silky fabric of her skirt.

“Is everything okay?”

Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and rolled her bottom lip into her mouth before exhaling, “yeah, but I should probably tell you something,” she looked up at Charlie through her eyelashes.

“Well, c’mon then..” Charlie teased after several seconds of silence.

“My folks don’t exactly know that Noah and I are….done...and I know there’s going to be a big event made of it when they find out.”

“Oof…” Charlie sighed and took a swig from his beer and a bite of his food.

Y/N felt her heart beating in her ears, “I understand if you, I mean if this is too much and you want to back out.”

Charlie looked at her with a playful smirk, “are you actually going to eat that or?” He pointed at her untouched plate of food with his fork.

“W-what?” Y/N looked down at her food and back up at Charlie before letting a smile slip onto her face. She didn’t understand how someone she had just met could put her nerves at ease without even trying.

Charlie let his fork clatter on his plate before leaning forward on his elbows. Y/N watched with furrowed brows as he grabbed the maple syrup and poured it in a circle over her chicken before he leaned back into his seat and met her eyes with a soft smile on his face.

Y/N picked up her fork and knife and cut into her maple drenched chicken before popping a small bite into her mouth, “are you happy now?” she teased Charlie before putting her fork back down.

Charlie tried to hold back the smile that threatened to take over his face as he nodded his head.

“So, what’s our story going to be? It’s gonna have to be a good one if I have to upstage Noah to win over your folks.”

The two spent the next hour concocting a believable, but very romantic story of how they met. They talked about their likes and dislikes, their quirks and habits, and all of the little things that couples are supposed to know about each other,

Y/N felt butterflies erupt in her stomach as Charlie walked her to her car, his left hand just barely brushing against hers. She mentally scolded herself for feeling jittery over a guy that was simply fulfilling his job, but she also couldn’t help but hope that maybe he was feeling their connection too.

“I’ll pick you up next Wednesday at 4 pm, yeah?” Charlie asked as they arrived at her car. Y/n tucked her hair behind her right ear and nodded.

She felt her breath hitch as Charlie leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek before walking backward and sending her a wave.

A week later and Y/N found herself pulling on a green sequined, long sleeve dress, the hem set just above her knees. It was her go-to holiday dress, classic but not too formal. She painted her face with gold eyeshadow, a sharp winged eyeliner, and her classic red lips. Her hair hung over her shoulders in cascading curls. She sat on her bed, fastening a pair of strappy black heels when her phone dinged. She fastened the buckles of her heels and grabbed her phone, a smile instantly sliding onto her face at Charlie letting her know he’d be at her place in five minutes.

She stood up and checked her appearance one final time before grabbing her gold clutch handbag and shoving her phone into it, just as Charlie knocked on her door. She quickly made her way to the front door and turned the lock before pulling the door open.

“Wow…” Charlie breathed out as she came into full view.

Y/N shyly smiled back at the boy, thankful that the blush she had on her cheeks already would mask the red glow that she could feel heating up her face.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teased, her eyes trailing from his brown wing toed shoes up to his pristine white button-up and finally to his slightly coiffed hair.

“Shall we?” Charlie extended his arm out to Y/N after she locked her door. She looped her right arm through his left, her hand resting lightly on his forearm as they made their way through the corridor and outside to Charlie’s car.

He opened the passenger side door for her and waited for her to get situated before closing the door and running around to the other side of the car. Their forty-minute drive was mostly silent as Y/N worked to calm her nerves down. She knew that she was going to have a lot of explaining to do when she showed up with Charlie in place of Noah and she was trying to memorize all of the details that they had agreed on a week prior.

“Are you okay?” Charlie glanced over at her for a brief moment before returning his eyes to the road, his left hand took hold of the steering wheel as his right hand settled on her bare knee.

His hand was warm against her cold skin and Y/N wasn’t sure why but she found her left hand moving to settle on top of his hand. Without hesitation, Charlie flipped his hand over and let her palm fall into his before his fingers slid between hers and gently curled.

“Just nervous…”

Charlie lightly squeezed her hand before letting out a small chuckle “if I didn’t know any better, I would think that you’re the one about to meet my family.”

“Oh, I’m not nervous about them meeting you, they’ll love you,” Y/N clarified,” I’m nervous about the terrible things that I know my mother is going to say to me about ending things with Noah.”

Charlie licked his lips as he pulled into her parents’ driveway. He pulled his right hand free from hers and put the car in park before turning slightly in his seat to face her.

“You know that nothing she says is going to be true, right? You don’t have to live by someone else's timeline for your life.”

Y/N pushed down the warming feeling in her heart and nodded her head at his words.

“Yeah, I know...are you ready?”

Charlie smiled brightly at her and pulled the keys from the ignition before getting out of the car. He double-stepped around the car to the passenger door and pulled it open for her, waiting for her to get out before closing the door.

He slid his left palm into her right hand and tangled their fingers together before placing a soft kiss on her hairline and whispered “let’s put on a show.”

Y/N could feel the nervous energy erupting in her stomach as they stood outside of her childhood home. She took a deep breath before twisting the doorknob and pushing the red front door open. They were met with the warm heat of the home and the smell of cinnamon as soon as they stepped inside. Charlie let his eyes wander across the walls of the entryway, scanning the line of pictures before tugging Y/N over to one.

“This is you, yeah?” The question was rhetorical as it had been obvious that it was her in the picture. She stood on a cliffside, at the top of a mountain with a bright smile on her face, her childhood dog, Rex, beside her and the ocean behind her.

“Yeah, I was seventeen and went backpacking by myself for the first time. My mom was so mad. This family that was passing by was kind enough to capture the moment for me and my dad insisted that it be hung on the wall of accomplishments…” Y/N rambled off the story before letting her eyes move from the picture and up to Charlie.

Charlie smiled down at her and laughed, “this is gonna sound insane, but I think that was my family that stopped and took the picture.”

Y/N pulled her brows forward so that her forehead was pinched in the middle “shut up! No it wasn’t!” she finally exclaimed.

“Rex….the dog’s name was Rex. I remember because I thought you were pretty and I got flustered and I said something dumb about Rex from Toy Story.”

Y/N’s eyes grew wide as Charlie recounted the story and she felt her cheeks growing red at the revelation “well, this is a weird twist in fate--”

She was cut off by the sound of her dad’s deep voice bellowing her name as he turned the corner. Charlie pulled her into his side and let his right-hand rest on her hip, while her right hand rested on his chest.

“Well, this certainly isn’t Noah!” Her father exclaimed a large smile on his face and his eyes soft. He had never been the biggest fan of Noah’s to begin with.

Charlie dropped his hand from her waist and stepped forward with it stretched out towards her dad, “Charlie Gillespie, sir.” He was taken aback when her dad threw his head back in laughter and pulled him in for a full bear hug.

“Nice to meet you, son”

Y/N giggled at her dad’s antics, he had always been the type to do things like that. He was a stout man with laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had graying hair and a well-kept beard and he radiated kindness.

“And you, little missy, are going to have a lot of explaining to do to your mother.” Y/N pulled back from her dad's embrace and blew the air out of her cheeks.

“Yeah, I know…”

Her dad gently squeezed her arm and gave her a reassuring smile before leaving the two to grab a beer from the kitchen.

“Why do I have the overwhelming feeling to call your dad pops and ask him over to mine to watch hockey?” Charlie joked.

Y/N shrugged and tangled her fingers with his, “I told you he was the easy one. Are you ready for the rest?”

“Lead the way, beautiful.”

Y/N tugged on Charlie’s hand and he followed behind her as they made their way to the den where her brothers were corralled around and a card table, intense looks on each of their faces as they held their cards close to their bodies. Their wives were set on the opposite side of the room. Y/N could feel the three women’s eyes on her as she entered the room with Charlie and she knew their hushed whispers were aimed at her and the fact that Charlie was very much not Noah.

Her youngest brother, Josh, was the first of the three boys to look up and notice her. He dropped his cards on the table, face down, and scooted his chair back against the hardwood floors.

“Junebug!” He yelled as he practically launched himself towards her. Y/N exploded into a fit of giggles as her feet left the floor and he twirled her around in circles. Josh was three years younger than her, sitting at nineteen but she had always been the closest with him. Her giggles quieted down as he sat her back down and turned to Charlie.

“Well, you’re not Noah.” Josh quipped with a playful smirk on his face.

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and laughed “I have a feeling I am going to be getting that a lot today.”

“You play poker?” Josh eyeballed him.

“I know my way around a deck of cards, yeah.” Charlie shrugged.

Josh turned to Y/N and lightly punched her shoulder, “looks like you got yourself an upgrade, Junebug!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her brother and wished Charlie luck as he was pulled over to the table and introduced to her two older brothers, Samuel and Michael. She felt her shoulders relax for a moment as the table erupted with laughter from something Charlie had said. He looked up from his cards and shot her a wink before turning his attention back to the game at hand.

Y/N glanced back at Charlie one last time before making her way over to the prying eyes of Amy and Melissa, the wives of Samuel and Michael. The two women each held a mug of her mother’s homemade cider in their manicured hands.

“Who’s the cutie?” Amy was the first to speak, her left eyebrow raised as she asked the question.

Y/N looked over her shoulder for a moment with a smile before turning back around “Charlie…”

“Oh! Well, you’ve certainly never said Noah’s name like that before!” Melissa looked at Y/N with wide eyes.

Y/N shook her head at the two gossipy women “like what?’

Amy and Melissa both shot knowing looks to each other before Amy quipped, “sweetie, that boy’s name left your lips like honey falling from a spoon.”

“It did not!’

“You can deny it all you want, but we both heard it!” Melissa declared and brought her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of the warm cider.

“Looks like I’m out boys!” Y/N heard from the other side of the room. She glanced over her shoulder to find Charlie laying his cards down on the table before he slid out of his chair. She smiled at him as he made his way over to her. He stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist and tugged her back into his chest, his head resting on her shoulder.

“Charlie, these are my sister-in-laws, Amy, and Melissa.”

“Very nice to meet both of you.” Charlie beamed at the two women.

Melissa and Amy stood up at the sound of heels clicking against the tile floor of the kitchen. Melissa made her way around Y/N and she gently squeezed Charlies’s bicep, “good luck honey.”

Charlie pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek and tightened his arms around her waist as he felt her body tense in his arms.

“You’ve got this,” Charlie reassured before loosening his grip on her and letting her grab his hand.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath and gently pulled Charlie behind her as she navigated through the formal dining room and towards the kitchen where her mother was sure to be found.

She stopped just inside the doorway to the kitchen and turned to face Charlie, “you can still get out of this, ya know?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Charlie placed his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her around, nudging her into the kitchen while he followed.

Y/N stood silently for a minute as she watched her mother pull the green bean casserole from the oven and wipe her hands across her floral apron. Her mother was a thin woman with auburn hair that was almost always pulled into a chignon.

“Mom? Can I talk to you?” Y/N hesitantly asked, suddenly feeling less like a twenty-two year old woman and more like a twelve-year old child.

“What do you want to talk about, dear? Because if it’s about Noah,” her mother grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the brown gravy that was simmering on the stove, “then I frankly don’t have time to listen to your childish reasons for ending the only good thing you had.”

“You know?” Y/N choked out

Her mother grabbed the pepper grinder and began to twist the top over another pot of food, “I called Noah after we spoke last week since you couldn’t give me a straight answer when I called you.”

“Oh…” Y/N placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and gently pushed him backward. Her eyes pleading with him to give her a minute. She didn’t want him to bear witness to the reprimanding she knew was about to come. Charlie hesitantly left her side and waited on the other side of the door.

Her mother finally turned around to face Y/N. She placed her hands on the edge of the counter, her knuckles white from the tight grip.

“Honestly, y/n. I don’t know why you can’t get your life together. You graduated college just to throw away your education for this silly photography hobby of yours and now you threw away a perfectly acceptable relationship because you want to travel and have adventures? You’re not a child, anymore, y/n. When is this going to stop? When are you going to grow up?”

Y/N stood silently as the words washed over her. She could feel the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes and let out a shaky breath.

“I…”

“What? You what, Y/N? What explanation could you possibly have this time?” Her mother cut her off.

Charlie pushed himself off of the wall he had been leaning on from the other side of the door and quickly made his way back into the kitchen. He felt her mother’s eyes on him as he quickly pressed a kiss to Y/N’s cheek, his hand sliding across the middle of her back before he put on his best smile and made his way over to her mother.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Y/L/N. My mother would be insanely envious of the spread you’ve created, it’s magazine worthy!”

“Thank you, dear. You are much too kind! I am so sorry, but I don’t believe I caught your name?”

Y/N looked down at the floor and smiled to herself at the charm that Charlie exuded as he introduced himself to her mother and offered to help her bring the endless amounts of food to the formal dining room for her.

“I’ll go gather everyone.” Y/N shot an appreciative smile to Charlie before she made her way back to the den to gather the rest of the family into the dining room.

Y/N made her way over to the empty chair next to Charlie, the latter getting out of his own chair to pull her chair out for her before sitting back down. He placed his hand on the inside of her thigh and let his thumb rub circles on the top of her leg.

Her dad stood at the top of the table and carved the turkey while small talk was exchanged between her brothers and their wives and suddenly the question finally came from her mother.

“So, how did you two meet?”

Y/N glanced over at Charlie not sure if he was going to take the lead or not and was surprised when he started spitting out a story that was definitely not the one they had agreed on during their lunch meeting,

“I met your daughter several years ago on a hiking trip with my family,” Charlie paused and looked over at her before continuing, “my older brother, Patrick actually took that photo that you have on your wall in the entryway!”

Y/N’s heart was beating erratically as Charlie squeezed her knee before turning his focus back to her mother “your daughter took my breath away that day and I kicked myself for weeks for not getting her number and just having this missed connection. I guess you could call it a twist of fate, really, that I found her again.”

Y/N’s mother smiled at the two of them and Y/N felt her body tense for just a moment before relief rushed over her at her mother’s words “that may be the most romantic thing I have ever heard in my life.”

“Can we eat now or?” Josh hesitantly asked as he grabbed the plate of yams and began piling a portion onto his plate.

Y/N felt at ease for the rest of the evening as their shared meal went off without a hitch. Her family shared embarrassing stories of her with Charlie and she sipped glasses of wine as he endlessly complimented her. Her heart felt full as the night drew to a close and her dad pulled out the last Thanksgiving tradition. The wishbone was passed around the table until it landed in her hands. She turned to Charlie and gestured for him to grab the other end of the bone. They both tugged on the bone with their eyes closed until it snapped.

Y/N opened her eyes and looked down at the fractured bone in her hand and then over to Charlie who was holding the larger side.

“Make a wish,” she whispered to him with a soft smile on her face. Charlie shook his head and kissed her forehead.

“I don’t have to, I’ve got everything I want right here.”

Y/N dropped her eyes to the table and reminded herself that as much as she felt the connection between her and Charlie, that he was just playing a role.

She looked up as the sound of chairs sliding against the floor filled the room. She followed suit and slowly stood up from her chair.

“Do you need help, mom?”

“You go ahead and head out honey, I know you have a long drive.”

Y/N made her rounds of goodbye to her family before looking back at Charlie and grabbing his hand. They silently walked to his car and he opened the car door for her. Y/N hummed along to the songs that played on the radio during the drive back to her place. She tried to ignore the heat that she felt in her stomach as Charlie’s thumb ran across her knuckles every now and then. She watched the cars that passed by them, red tail lights lighting up her face as they drove on the highway. Before she knew it they were parked outside of her apartment.

“I guess this is it then…” Charlie looked over at Y/N as she unbuckled her seatbelt.

“I guess so.” Y/N agreed, her right hand rested on the door handle as she looked at Charlie, her eyes searching for any indication that he didn’t want her to leave. She let her hand pull on the door handle when Charlie didn’t respond.

She swung the car door open and stepped out into the street before making her way to the sidewalk. She turned around at the sound of another car door shutting and was taken aback by Charlie running over to her side

“I should walk you to your door,” Charlie answered the silent question

Y/N smiled and led the way through the apartment corridor until they stood outside of her door, her keys dangling in her left hand. She looked up at Charlie and smiled, “you didn’t have to see me inside, ya know?”

Charlie rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand and shrugged, “all part of the job.”

Y/N felt her smile falter and turned around to place the key into the lock of her apartment door. She quickly turned the key and opened the door before stepping inside. She turned to look at Charlie one last time, “well, thank you for giving me my money’s worth,” she let her eyes fall from his.

“Goodbye, Charlie.” She closed the door and dropped her keys into the catch-all bowl before kicking her heels off and making her way over to the couch. She let her body slump into the soft cushions and pulled her phone out to call the only person that was going to understand.

“Tell me everything!” Leigha demanded as soon as her face appeared on the phone.

‘Well,” Y/N sighed, “I think I accidentally started to fall in love with him.”

Leigha couldn’t stop the giddy laughter that erupted from her small frame “I knew this was going to happen! I so called this!”

Y/N rolled her eyes at her best friend and poked her bottom lip out in a pout “it’s not funny Lee...I’m never gonna see him again and now I have all of these feelings to deal with.”

“You don’t know that!” Leigha argued

“I appreciate that you’re a hopeless romantic, Lee, but I was nothing but a paying customer to him...he basically said so himself.” Y/N frowned, thinking back to Charlie’s words as he walked her to her door.

“Oh...hun, I’m so sorry.”

Y/N let a sad smile slip onto her face, “I’m gonna go to bed, coffee tomorrow morning?”

Y/N hung her phone up and pulled herself up from the couch. She shuffled through the apartment until she reached her room and slowly peeled the sequined dress from her body. She made her way to the vanity and grabbed a makeup wipe and slowly removed the makeup from her face before she crawled into bed and pulled the covers tight around her body.

It was 8 am when Y/N was pulled from her slumber by her phone blaring the ringtone that Leigha insisted she set for herself. She rolled over with her eyes still closed and fumbled around for her phone before slowly cracking her eyes to hit the green button.

“What?” Y/N grumpily answered

“Don’t what me!” Leigha chastised, “there’s a cute boy at the cafe and he just ordered your order! Like to the T!”

Y/N set up in her bed and pressed her fingers into her eyes, rubbing the sleep away in small circles.

“Ok? And?”

“AND?! AND!!! His name is Charlie! I swear to god if you don’t get out of bed and make yourself look decent, I will literally kill you!”

Y/N dropped her phone onto her bed and pulled the covers back. She quickly made her way to her bathroom and brushed her teeth. She stared at herself in the mirror and ran her fingers through her messy bed head, her curls tangling together between her fingers.

“Shit..okay….okay…” She muttered to herself and opted to twist her hair up into a top knot. She secured it with a hair tie and ran back to her room where she threw on a pair of black leggings and an oversized jumper. Her heart nearly leaped out of her chest when she heard a knock on her door.

She wiped her hands on her leggings and quickly made her way to her front door. She took a deep breath to settle her nerves before reaching forward to unlock the door. Her hand shook as she turned the doorknob and slowly pulled the door open. Stood on the other side was Charlie with a small brown bag and a hot coffee extended out to her.

Y/N stepped to the side and opened the door wider, allowing Charlie to come in.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she took the bag and coffee from his hands. She sat the bag on the counter and pulled the cup to her lips, taking a small sip. She hummed to herself as the warm liquid slid down her throat.

Charlie stepped forward and hesitantly took the drink from her hands, setting it on the counter behind her. Y/N watched anxiously as Charlie’s eyes moved across her face, flickering between her eyes and lips several times before he lifted his hands and placed one on her right cheek while the other cradled her neck.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Charlie whispered into the space between them before catching her lips with his. Charlie pulled away before Y/N had a chance to react, his face glowing red as he held his bottom teeth between his top two teeth.

“Is this free of charge?” Y/N joked as she placed her hands on Charlie’s chest and leaned forward, bringing her lips back to his.

@straywonpil @siennanoelle01 @choppedhoundsludgeclod @cool-ultra-nerd @hxney-bunches-x @crybabyddl @sorryyoureoutofmyleague @dream-a-little-bigger-x @kcd15 @all-in-fangirl @ifilwtmfc @onlygetaway @iainttakingshitfromnobody @angryknightstatesmantrash @jazzyhales @bathtimejish @lanasfandoms @miranda0102 @emotionalbruv @aliandthephantoms @multifandombabies @kinda-really-lost @5sosmukefan @alexpjoyner @mo-d3ans @hannahhistorian92 @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @i-should-be-writing-my-own-fic @sunflowerbecca @n0wornever @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic

#charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie #luke patterson #charlie gillespie one shot #charlie gillespie fanfic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #julie and the himbos #julie and the phantoms fanfic #luke patterson fanfic

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whumpiary · 3 years

Note

cw: unkind family member made a comment trying to justify some horrible stuff

So this might be a big dumb ™ question, but I'm really not great with words out loud when I'm under a lot of emotion. It's why I'm a writer, I think; I write out my responses so much better than I could ever say them.

Someone in my family over their holiday visit spied on me reading a whump prompt, and after they quickly skimmed it, they made the most offhand, hurtful comment. I feel like a loser because I had 0 idea how to respond to it because my brain does a massive freeze response and locks completely up.

They said, "Oh, so you're fetishizing abuse now? Makes it perfectly cool then, I guess, to do _____ to someone."

I was so angry, all I could do was stumble out "No, that's not--no," and had to just leave and cry in the next room until they left. I wanted to explain that no; whump is something that helps me. I just...I didn't know what to say, or how to properly describe whump, and I almost want to reach out and explain it to them, but they're unfortunately the type of family member to side with all the wrong types of people. They're always saying something like this, it's just never been directly to me.

I think my question is, do you or a fellow whump writer have advice for how I might explain this to someone in the future, if not that particular person, that that's not what this is doing? That that's not what my fellow writers are doing? Because honestly, I've never been in a more supportive community than this, I love how whole I feel here, but I'm just struggling so much with not only the right way to explain it, but the guts to say it out loud.

I'm so sorry to bother you. I look up to you a lot. It's hard being in a trauma headspace a lot and formulating responses under pressure for me personally. Ughhhh. I'm asking anonymously because I'm too scared I'll be put on blast or something for 'not speaking up'. But thank you for reading. I support you and your work, and the entire whump community's work, so much. I hope everything's going well ♥️ You all really do inspire me.

This isn’t a dumb question at all. Thanks for writing me.

Cards on the table, it’s late in my time zone (Happy New Year, in fact!) so I may reblog again in the morning with more thoughts but it felt important to answer you tonight.

I see you and I hear you and I am sending you so much love. What your family member did was really shitty. (First, spying on something seemingly without your consent? Asshole move. Second, making you feel shit about something you like? Asshole love. Third, making you feel shit about something you made? Big asshole move.) I’m sorry you had to experience that.

First up: There’s nothing wrong with you for liking whump. There’s nothing wrong with you for reading it. There’s nothing wrong with you for writing it.

Liking and producing whump content doesn’t mean you condone abuse, and it doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. You’re okay.

You’re also not a loser for not being able to rattle off a perfectly reasoned response in a moment of confrontation. That shit is hard, even when you’re not running on trauma software. You’re not a failure or dumb for not having an answer for them. You’re just a human. Especially on a topic as complex as whump.

I don’t think anyone would “put you on blast” for not speaking up. We’ve all been there, whether on the topic of whump or not. Anyone who’s telling you that you need to be a champion defender of whump at all times is just as much of an asshole as your family member in my opinion. You need to look after you first.

Whump is more prolific than we acknowledge or people recognise sometimes, in my opinion. It’s very easy for people to watch a movie or read a book and know the creators aren’t condoning what they’re depicting, but people seem to find it more difficult when they know the artists personally (like your family member knows you, for example). Something that I do sometimes is make references to things that are well known. Like:

“Saving Private Ryan depicts war and I don’t think they’re glorifying war. It’s a way to explore different parts of humanity and I think that’s interesting”

“[insert TV show here] has a lot heavy themes as a way of exploring character and relationships. That’s what I’m doing here.”

“Horror movies depict violence and gore all the time and they’re rarely fetishising things. It’s a way to get people to face and explore their fears and anxieties in safe, entertaining ways.”

You can also check out the “defining whump” tag for some really great community commentary on the subject.

Here’s the other thing, though: You also just straight up don’t have to justify yourself. You can just shrug and ignore them. Their opinion, and I know this maybe doesn’t feel true, straight up doesn’t matter.

If your family member is anything like some of mine, they likely won’t be convinced to your side. I don’t know your family member, so maybe I’m wrong, but it sounds to me like they were wanting to pick a fight, not have a discussion with you. In which case, even a million well thought out points and arguments won’t help. They’re just in this to make you feel crappy. In those situations, sometimes it’s best to just say “that’s your opinion, I just gave a different view” and step away from the convo.

You know why you like whump. You know why you read it. You know why you write it. You know what you enjoy about it. You know you don’t condone abuse or violence. That’s all that matters. You don’t need a moral high ground to find joy or benefit in something. It’s all good.

I know this is easier said than done, but remind yourself of the community you love and the content you enjoy and let the comments be water off a ducks back. We’ve got you. We get you. Forget about the folks that don’t. They’ve got their plate full of their own shit and clearly don’t have the space for empathy right now.

We love you. We are you. You’re all good, mate.

Anyone who has some words of wisdom or love to send is welcome and encouraged to pile onto this post. I think Anon needs it.

(P.S I hope you get around to posting that prompt! If it prompted such a reaction from someone reading it, I bet it’s a doozy. I’d love to see it and I bet the rest of the community would too)

#whump community #whump discourse #defining whump #answered #anonymous #long post

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pit-and-the-pen · 3 years

Text

Achilles Come Down (Luna Lovegood)

JUst a fast little idea, written while I was listening to Achilles Come Down. I am only slightly sorry.

Warning: Mention of bullying, mild depressive thoughts,

Taglist: General: @thoseofgreatambition @ickle-ronniekins @harrysweasleys @kpopgirlbtssvt @shadowsinger11 @harrypotter239 @elf-punk @bitchywhisperswizard

💙💙💙-------------------------------------------------------------💙💙💙

Luna and you were sitting in her bedroom at Shell Cottage. You were spending all the time you could with your old best friend since she got back from Malfoy Manor.

The two of you had been fairly close the first half of your Hogwarts years but she started getting closer to Harry’s friends while you stayed mostly to yourself.

The pair of you were spending most of your time just talking. Talking about anything you could.

“I guess I was just happy they noticed me.” Luna sighs out, “They were cruel but isn’t that the way kids are supposed to be?” Her fingers started to fiddle with the corks on her necklace. The topic of how people used to treat her came up and her response didn’t really surprise you. It was so Luna to look for the good in everyone, even when they didn’t deserve it.

“I mean I gave them plenty of fodder.” She makes a face when I try to stop her. “I’m aware not everyone see’s the world the way I do. But it’s easier to see it for all the magic it has, not just the stuff we can understand.

I scoffed “They treated you badly because they thought you were different and for whatever reason you aren’t allowed to be different. That’s it and it wasn’t fair.” You said, getting slightly upset with her words. She really was one of the sweetest people, one of the most understanding and patient, enough to excuse the way people treated her.

“I tried to get them to stop. And people always swore it was never them.” You found yourself getting slightly more worked up. “I got in trouble for hexing a few of them before.”

She gives you a look you can’t decipher. “You shouldn’t have gotten yourself in trouble for me. I’m not worth Flitch.” She says, not like she’s looking for pity but just like it’s a simple fact that everyone knows. “No one’s worth him.” She covers quickly, my face must have changed.

You laugh slightly, just once to yourself. “There are worse people to get in trouble defending.” Your voice is very matter of fact, a little sterner than you meant it to come out.

The words made the air a little heavier. Charged with something a little more than the joking tone from before this conversation started. You start to pick at the edge of your nails. Making your eyes look down. You can hear the little rattle of her necklace again.

When you look up you notice that she’s looking at you with the wide eyed look she always has. Somewhere between sleepy and very far away. Eyes so blue they’re almost purple in the setting sun.

You lean in slightly, letting your eyes close lightly. Her hand on yours makes you pause. The look in her eyes is gentle but you know what is about to come out of her mouth. It’s the same look that you’ve gotten everything you take a risk assuming there was something actually there.

“I’m sorry.” You mutter out before she can say anything. Genuinely sorry. Sorry that you got caught up in emotions and turned a moment that was supposed to be sweet into this.

“I’ve already had my father taken away from me because I was important to him.” She says with a far away voice, “I’m not giving them someone else to take me away from.” She wraps her pinky around yours to push her point a little more.

To say that was not what you were expecting was an understatement. “I’m that important to you?” You whisper up, not wanting to believe the words. She just smiles and rolls her eyes dramatically. As if to say duh, you couldn’t tell. The smile on your face makes your cheeks hurt but you don’t care. For a moment you forget that you’re currently in a safe house running from a war that neither of you had asked for but will fight either way.

You find your hand, the one not currently wrapped around hers, drifting up to her face. You pause right in front of her cheek, asking permission. She nods and before you can move, pushes her face into your palm. Her cheek is as soft as you had imagined. Sure you had tucked small pieces of hair away from her face before but you tried to keep contact as minimal as possible. You had been right to. Her touch seems to make your whole body slightly warm, almost like the burn after a sip of Firewhiskey.

She leans in slightly more, for a second you think she's leaning in to finish the kiss that hung in the air earlier. You stay frozen, letting her decide what will happen. She just rests her forehead against your own. Faces so close you can almost feel a breeze from her long eyelashes as she closes her eyes with a few heavy blinks. You take a deep steadying breath.

How the most dangerous thing is to love….

This will be enough, until it is safe to love her the way you’ve wanted to. The way she deserves.

#Luna Lovegood #tw bullying mention #tw depressing thoughts #luna lovegood imagine #luna lovegood x reader #luna lovegood x female reader #fluff

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exhaustedfander · 4 years

Note

For the prompt: Intrulogical, one of them is sick, one must take care of the other

I haven’t written a sickfic in ages and I forgot how cute these things were. I decided to make Remus the one taking care of Logan because I like the idea of the bastard man being soft for one(1) nerd. I’d love to hear what you guys think, enjoy!

a03 link

Word Count: 3,313

I’ll Take Care of You [Intrulogical]

Logan wakes with a pounding in his head, feeling as though his body has been (figuratively) lit on fire. His hand skims over the bedsheet, something that’s quite odd to him; he doesn’t recall climbing into bed. He groans, squinting, and noticing his apparent lack of spectacles. In attempting to sit up Logan feels a pair of hands pressing him back into pillows.

“Easy there, hot stuff,” Remus. Why is Logan in bed with an ache deep in his bones, and why is Remus here? "Emphasis on the hot because you’re burning up.”

Remus, in what Logan can only assume is a moment of incredible generosity, hands him his glasses. Logan slides them over his face, looking down at his clothes to see he is not, in fact, in his normal attire but rather a pair of outer space-themed pajamas. And when he glances at Remus there isn’t the usual manic look in his eyes, but rather one he’d nearly dare to call concern.

“What happened? What’s – what’s going on?” Logan can’t ignore the rawness in his throat that burns when he speaks.

“You and I were having a conversation about the best way to kill a man without getting caught,” Remus explains casually. Yes, Logan seems to remember that to some extent. They had rattled off the ideas of poisoning as well as the many ways one can frame a murder to appear accidental, “And then you just plopped onto the floor like all of your bones had turned to jelly! When I touched your head I realized you were burning hot and in your fatigue, I guess you passed out cold. Y’know, teach, for someone who argues the importance of wellness as much as you do, you really aren’t practicing what you preach. When was the last time you slept? Or put some food in you?”

Logan had never thought that Remus of all people would be in a position to scold him about his life choices, and yet here he is.

“I – well, I suppose I’m not –.” Remus cocks an eyebrow.

“you’re not sure? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Here, drink some water,” Remus says, handing him a glass, “God, Roman goes on and on about your “extremist water agenda” meanwhile you’re dehydrated as fuck.” Logan drains the glass quickly, bearing the heavy weight of Remus’s stare. As Logan attempts to untangle himself from the bedsheets Remus’s hand settles on his shoulder, pinning him in place.

“Remus –.”

“Not so fast, nerdy wolverine,” Remus says in what could almost be constituted as a scolding tone, “You’ve worked yourself into sickness and now you’re paying the price. Imagine if you’d collapsed in front of one of the others? Pattycake, for example, well he would’ve flipped his lid, I’m sure. Or my brother, for instance, might’ve tried to “rescue you” into recovery. But me, not so much.” Logan lays back down, feeling fairly defeated though he’s rather distracted by the throbbing in his head.

“And you’re the no-nonsense type?” It seems even in sickness, Logan’s dry-wit hasn’t left him. What a miracle.

“Oh, I’m all for nonsense,” Remus says with a gleeful smile before turning back to Logan, “And as much fun as it would be for Thomas to be without his logic for a while – which, believe me, I considered – I’m sure the others would have my head. Oh, isn’t that delightful to think about? My head on a spike oozing blood? And – and my tongue would be sticking out of my tongue like this,” Remus imitates, his tongue growing several inches longer and hanging limp against his chin. “But seriously, knock that shit off. You can’t just go passing out in front of people, you of all sides should be taking your health into consideration.”

“And that’s why you put me to bed?” Logan asks, eyeing Remus as carefully as he can despite the splotches of color that cloud his vision, “Because you were concerned about how the others would react to me being unwell?” For a moment Remus looks almost as flushed as Logan is, which the logical side finds rather odd. Remus isn’t one to become easily embarrassed; sometimes Logan wonders if it’s even capable for him to become as such.

“Think of it as me paying back a favor. I mean, you’ve helped me out too many times to count. Remember when you took that arrow out of my eye?” Remus asks with a laugh, “Ah, good times.”

“And that’s the only reason you’ve decided to help me and uh, dress me?” Logan asks, glancing back down at his clothes that he doesn’t recall changing into.

“Well, dressing you isn’t very hard at all,” Remus says, snapping his fingers and suddenly losing every stitch of clothing. Logan covers his eyes as though it’s anything he hasn’t seen before. “See, undressed,” Remus snaps again, “dressed! Undressed, dressed. Oh, stop covering your eyes, dork, you and I both know this isn’t the first time you’ve seen my dick.”

That’s the thing. If you’d have told Logan he and Remus would someday be sleeping together regularly, he would’ve thought such a thing was preposterous. In fact, even friendship between them was something he hadn’t considered in the cards. And even so, before he understood what was going on he and Remus were cultivating a relationship.

Logan hadn’t thought it at first, but as it turns out, Remus is a very good listener. Yes, he tends to drift from topic to topic on a whim, but Logan’s come to not mind that much at all. He indulges in Logan’s rants about outer space, the depths of the ocean, and the secrets that hide beneath the briny deep, the most peculiar flora and fauna that exist on the planet as well as so many other topics. He does more than put up with Logan’s interests, he encourages them. It’s refreshing, the conversations that he and Remus have.

Remus brings out something strange in Logan, an impulsion he wasn’t aware he was even capable of. Remus is crude and reckless and all over the place, but Logan’s become endeared to him in more ways he’d ever imagined possible. It was out of this impulsion that Remus prompts in him so that Logan kissed the intrusive side several months ago. In the past, he’d never dare to do something so messy and feelings-y, but after spending as much time as he had with Remus as well as the emotions surrounding him, for one of the first times in his existence Logan allowed himself to let loose.

Their relationship was initially driven by lust, but it took very little time for things to deepen. It had been one thing for Logan to enjoy spending time with Remus, but now he looked forward to it every chance he got, his face betraying his stoic nature in a smile every time Remus entered the room. Before long, Remus was using the word boyfriend and Logan was accepting it.

The thought that he’s worried his partner, even in the state of near delusion he’s in, crosses his mind.

“M’ sorry for worrying you,” Logan says, his voice slurring slightly as though he’s intoxicated. Remus sighs, kneeling beside Logan and pushing aside his bangs that are plastered with sweat to his forehead. Remus has only ever seen Logan so disheveled during sex, and he’s certainly never seen him so weak.

“Who says I was worried?” Remus asks as though his tone of voice hasn’t already betrayed it, “Okay, fine. Maybe I was a little worried, fucking sue me.”

“You’re taking care of me,” Logan notes dizzily, leaning into Remus’s touch as he runs a hand through his messy hair, “That’s nice.”

“Shit, Lo, you’re loopier than I thought,” Remus musses, seeing the far-off look in his boyfriend’s eyes, “How’s your head?”

“It hurts.” Remus is fairly sure this is the first time he’s ever heard logic whine, and he’d be a damn liar if he said it isn’t kind of adorable.

“Okay, okay, I’ll get you some medicine,” Remus says, getting up to leave before feeling Logan’s clammy hand clamp down on his wrist.

“Logan?”

“Don’t leave,” Logan’s voice comes out weak and sad, “Please don’t leave.” It’s almost too much to handle, the sentimentality to Logan’s words as well as the almost juvenile desire for him to stay by his side as if something horrible will become of him if Remus leaves. There’s no way Logan’s going to believe any of this transpired once his head is clear again. Remus really should be filming this.

“Aw, Lolo, stop being so cute for a second, okay? I need to go get you some medicine and something to eat.”

“I’m not cute,” Logan pouts, “I’m serious, remember? Necktie…” Remus chuckles.

“Strange, I don’t see a tie on you at the moment.” Logan huffs. “Just stay there for a second, okay? I’ll get you some medicine, it’ll make you feel better.” Remus can’t recall the last time he acted so civilly. “Taking care” of others really isn’t his thing, destruction and utter chaos is. If any of the others were ill, he doesn’t think he’d be acting the way he is, so put together and fucking caring, it almost makes him sick to think about. But Logan isn’t anybody else, he’s his boyfriend who’s overworked himself to the point of delusion and maybe he’s being a tad bit protective, but the idea of someone else taking care of Logan leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Just because he’s Remus doesn’t mean he’s any less capable of doing so, or at least that’s what he’s telling himself.

Remus comes back with the medicine and has to spend several minutes convincing Logan to take it; who knew he was such a bad patient? He sits with him a while listening to Logan spout almost as much nonsense that Remus usually does before Logan drifts off again.

“Don’t worry,” Remus whispers, pressing a kiss to Logan’s temple, “I’ll take care of you, dork.”

It’s a stupidly heartfelt thing to say, especially when Logan is clearly asleep, but it just seems to slip out. Remus slinks out of the room as quietly as he can, shutting the door behind him gently rather than slamming it like he usually does before wandering into the kitchen.

Remus is surprised to find Patton humming tunelessly as he stirs a pot of soup.

“Oh! Hiya Remus,” Patton says when he catches sight of him, looking a little startled in his presence. Even so, Remus has been hanging around the light sides a lot more, especially since Janus got accepted by Thomas, so Patton’s had some time to get a bit more used to him.

“Hi, Pattycake,” Remus greets, “Whatcha making? It smells good.”

“Chicken noodle soup,” he replies matter-of-factly, “It’s for Logan.” Remus quirks an eyebrow. That’s what Remus was about to attempt to make himself, but this smells homemade.

“How’d you know he was sick?”

“Oh, a dad has a way of knowing when his kiddos aren’t doing so hot,” Patton replies cryptically, “I also noticed Logan seemed a little off earlier. How’s he doing?” Remus pulls himself onto the kitchen counter, swinging his legs.

“Not fan-fucking-tastic,” Remus notes the way Patton bites his lip at that, probably about to scold him for his “potty mouth,” “I’ve told that nerd a billion gazillion times that he needs to take better care of himself. I swear he’s so wrapped up in looking after the rest of you I think he forgets about himself.” Patton hums thoughtfully.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Remus blinks, the back and forth motion of his legs ceasing.

“Huh?” Patton smiles.

“I’ve heard the way Logan talks about you. I don’t even think he realizes how sweet he sounds when he’s saying it, about the conversations you two have and the experiments you do together. You make him awfully happy, you know that?”

Remus wants to play off the shock the statement has provoked. He wants to grin manically and talk about butts, or Jeffrey Dahmer, or anything else other than the warmth that blooms in the cavity in his chest where he believed a heart wasn’t present. But he can’t.

“Logan talks about me?” Patton laughs like Remus has just asked the most absurd question.

“Well of course he does, silly! You’re his boyfriend, aren’t ya?”

“I – uh – yeah. Yeah, I am. I didn’t know you knew that, though?” It comes out as a question. He’s never mentioned it to anyone except Janus, thinking that Logan wouldn’t want to tell the others.

“Yeah, Janus told me about it.” Remus’s jaw slackens. “Oh dear, was I not supposed to know that?”

“I mean, it’s not a secret, I guess. I’m just kind of surprised Double D would tell you.”

“Well, I’m sure I would’ve figured it out, either way, the way you two look at each other is so gosh darn cute! Janny just mentioned it in passing, really.” Remus narrows his eyes at Patton.

“Janny? There’s no way in hell Janus would let anyone call him that.” Patton flushes at that.

“You should hear the other things he lets me call him…” Remus slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Holy balls! Are you and Jan-the-man fucking?” Patton’s blush deepens as he turns the oven off and gets a bowl out of the cupboard.

“Well, looks like the soup’s ready! Better take some to Logan before it gets cold!” Remus hops off the counter with as much grace, taking the bowl from Patton’s hands and eyeing him suspiciously.

“This is not the end of this conversation,” he says, not missing the way Patton’s Adam’s apple bobs in a gulp, “I gotta admit, I’m kinda surprised you’re letting me take care of the nerd. I would think you’d jump at the chance to play nurse.” Patton shrugs.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to encroach on your time with him. I know you and I have had our disagreements,” Remus bites back to urge to say a very Roman-esque ‘UH understatement much!’, “But I also know you care a lot about Logan. And you also-also know that if anything bad ever happened to him that I would be very, very upset with you,” Patton flashes a demented smile clearly meant to intimidate Remus and he can certainly respect that. The smile fades back to his normal cheery nature as quickly as it appeared, “Now, get going and make him feel a Pat-ton better, okay kiddo?” Remus snorts at the silly name pun, taking a spoon from the drawer before taking the bowl down the hall.

“See ya around, Daddio.” Remus decides he’s going to have to kick Janus’s ass for not telling him about him and Patton. More so, though, Remus’s mind is occupied by the fact that Logan has spoken about him fondly and that Patton claimed that their affection for one another was obvious. To some extent, Remus had been under the assumption that Logan wouldn’t want to mention their relationship at all.

Remus opens the door slowly, balancing the bowl in his elbow as he finds Logan blinking awake at him. As much as he’d wanted to let Logan sleep, he isn’t sure the last time he’s had anything to eat.

“Remus?”

“I’m right here,” Remus says setting the bowl down on the bedside table and kneeling beside Logan’s bed, “I brought you some soup.” Logan squints, reaching for his glasses again and putting them back on.

“Huh?”

“Patton made you some, LoLo. Pops said he had a hunch you weren’t doing so hot. He’s a real smart cookie when it comes to taking care of you all, huh?” Logan scrunches up his face.

“I don’t want any.” Remus lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh come on, dorkalicious. You need to eat something, and it’ll be good for you.”

“Says the guy who regularly consumes deodorant.”

“Hey, that’s unrelated. I’m not the one who let myself get into such rough shape. Now be a good boy and eat your fucking chicken-noodle-soup.” Logan groans as Remus blows on a spoonful of soup and brings it towards Logan’s mouth. Logan sighs, opening his mouth and sighing around the spoon as he swallows a mouthful.

“Hungry, aren’t you?” Logan fails to reply, sitting up and placing the bowl in his lap. Remus watches as Logan devours the soup at record speed, draining the bowl in a few minutes. Remus chuckles, setting the bowl aside and seeing the way Logan’s eyes begin to droop again.

“You left me,” Logan pouts childishly, earning another laugh from his boyfriend.

“You fell asleep, babe,” Remus chides, “And I needed to get you something to eat. I never thought you’d be such a brat when you’re sick.” Logan sags back into the pillows as Remus pets his hair again.

“M’ not a brat,” Logan mumbles sleepily.

"Oh of course you aren’t. You’re just my difficult little shithead boyfriend. But a brat? You’d never dare be such a thing.” Logan makes a noncommittal noise before muttering something that sounds vaguely like “Come here.”

“What was that?” Logan sighs.

“Come here,” Logan repeats more clearly. “I want you to hold me.” Remus could scratch his own eyes out Logan is being so cute! His boyfriend is always so formal and presentable, which is nothing that Remus particularly minds, but this behavior is so out of character it’s kind of a lot to process. Logan seldom asks for cuddles, even when he wants them, so this direct neediness comes as a surprise.

“Fine, but only because you’re ailing,” Remus says dramatically as if he doesn’t always jump at the chance to cuddle with his boyfriend. Logan relaxes against Remus, throwing his arms around him loosely and snuggling into his shoulder. Logan’s skin is still clearly flushed, but his fever seems to be going down.

“Are you feeling any better?” Remus asks, his voice conveying more worry than he intends to express.

“A bit,” Logan mutters, “Thanks for looking after me.”

“Sure thing, dork. I mean, someone had to do it.”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to. You’re good, Rem. Really good.” Remus smiles, pressing a kiss to Logan’s cheek.

“You’re such a fucking sap when you’re delirious, it’s too cute.” Logan ignores that, his eyes fluttering closed.

“I love you, Remus.” Remus feels his heartrate spike as Logan’s grip around him tightens slightly. Remus knew that he and Logan share some very mushy, gushy feelings, but Logan loves him? Genuinely, truly loves him? For some time now he’s been trying to ignore the true depth of his feelings for Logan, not wanting to endanger a good thing, but now it looks like he doesn’t have to. Granted, Logan’s admitted these feelings in a state of delusion, but Remus doesn’t believe it to be any less true. If Patton says he sees their chemistry and Logan’s been as clingy as he has been, then he’s gonna choose to believe it.

“I love you too,” he says softly, far gentler than he’d ever imagined the admission would be – not that he really thought he’d ever get the opportunity to tell him in the first place. “I’m crazy about you, Lo.”

“Don’t let me go,” Logan says lethargically, half-asleep already, “I don’t wanna wake up to you being gone.”

“Okay, nerd,” Remus says, his heart – yes, he’s concluded that he’s got a heart somewhere in his chest, considering how soft Logan’s made him feel today – overflowing with love, “I’ll stay. I’m not going anywhere.”

“That will be satisfactory,” Logan mumbles before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Remus lies awake in Logan’s arms, thinking of how not long-ago Logan had considered himself completely emotionless and he had thought of himself as void of the capability for affection or love. Remus has never been so glad to be proven wrong.

=+=

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catboysimulator · 3 years

Text

Story Three - Learning

A roar resounds through the training grounds, before a loud scream and 'thud' follows after along with the sound of a body rolling. A choir of 'OOH...' can be heard afterwards as a crowd stares down at the body of, none other than, Azhi'li.

"Come on, primo! I taught ya better than that!" Tani taunts with a chuff, their tail whipping to and fro behind them. "Let's go, up an' at 'em!"

Approaching Azhi'li, she reached down and lifted him on his two feet by pulling him up under his arms, staring at him with a quirked brow and pursed lips.

The red Seeker seemed a bit out of it, his head lolling back a bit, yet he was fine. Tani huffed once again and rattled her cousin like a maraca. "Oye! Despiertate! Wake up!"

Azhi'li groaned and whined, pawing at their arms and kicking a bit so she could put him down. Once he did, the younger Seeker plopped back onto his rump with a grunt, panting lightly. "G-gimme a bit, Tani--," he stammered through his ragged breath, before the older one sighed and simply sat in front of him, cross-legged. "Alright, take yer time. Need yer inhaler?"

"Nah, I'm-- I'm alright. Jus' need a moment. Gods, bein' smacked 'round by an axe hurts."

A loud bark of laughter came from Tani, causing him to grin toothily from ear to ear. "You're tellin' me? C'mon, what's goin' on? Tell me so we can work on it, primo."

Peering up at Tani through his lashes, he sighed and lifted his head a bit while his shoulders slumped. "I jus' dunno how ta deal with someone wieldin' an axe. Hells, I don't even know how ta wield one, m'self!" he exclaims, gesturing over towards the wooden axe he had long dropped before he was tossed.

"An' that's alright! Y'jus' gotta tell me, see? All ain't lost, nothin' is hopeless, it's just a matter of takin' the time ta learn, okay?" she assured, patting his knee with a hefty paw. "What do ya know, hm? Have ya fought against other folks?"

"Well, aye, a'course I have. Many times. In fact, Toadie's th'one who trained me ever since I knew him, practically."

"Okay, an' what did ya learn from him?"

"A lot."

"So then let's go through everythin' he taught ya all over again. From th'start, up until now. An' what better way ta do that than trainin', hm? Don't beat yerself up, man. Shit like this takes a certain kinda person, 'nd ya got it, y'jus' need more patience with yerself, b'cause y'get frustrated real easy, real quick. Y'know that, don't ya?"

"... Aye."

Huffing, Tani gives him a firm poke to his forehead. "Don't be like that to yerself. When y'have no one else around ya, ye're gonna be all ya got left. You're kind t'everyone else but yourself, and I'm sure ya've been told this many times before, hm?"

"Aye."

Smiling warmly, Tani stood right back up with a heavy plap to her knees, extending out a hand towards Azhi'li. "Up, Zizi. You're alright. You have so much time ahead a'yerself, so do not punish yerself for not gettin' things right away. Y'don't punish th'kids when they don't get it right away, so don't do that to yerself. Ye're no different, an' ya deserve no less patience from others," he states, firmly, yet not unkindly.

Azhi'li takes in a deep breath and nods, smiling lightly before grunting when his back is given a hearty SMACK from Tani's paw.

"Now! Cuffs are off, weapons set aside! S'jus' you an' me, primo! Let's get down to th'basics!" they state, stepping away from Azhi'li before putting their axe down and stancing themself with their fists held up to their chest.

---------------------------

CW: talk/discovery of sexuality and gender. possible dysphoria triggers.

For five suns every sennight, Tani and Azhi'li trained together. Sometimes uncle Sena or Maryn would join in and show their nephew of what they knew with a blade and shield or magic. Every day there was something new for Azhi'li to learn, new lessons to keep close to his heart. He never thought he'd ever be able to do any of these things back then, but now he has gotten so used to it that it's almost as comfortable as his fists. Of course, nothing could ever feel as comfortable as that, but he can at least safely say he can wield an axe and blade now, as well as do some magic.

Yet, all of this physical training wasn't the only thing he learned about.

One evening at the circle, everyone was enjoying dinner and sharing stories, laughing and joking amongst themselves. Azhi'li and Tani were sitting together, snickering and sharing food and drinks with each other, the Seeker having gotten a better hang of alcohol thanks to Tani. He learned from the best!

And still, there is even more left to learn. Leaning back on a paw, Azhi'li rested his other arm upon his knee as he swirled the mead in his flagon idly, staring out towards the fire in front of them.

"So, Tani... If y'don't mind me askin', uh... can I talk ta ya 'bout identity stuff?"

"... Identity stuff?" he inquired with a quirked brow, looking towards Azhi'li with a side-eye while popping a jocote into his mouth.

"Like... gender 'nd sexuality?"

"Oh. Yeah, what's up?" She grins towards him, her round ears perked and pivoted towards him as she suddenly became interested. Azhi'li huffed with a roll of his eyes before rubbing at the nape of his neck, leaning forward a bit.

"So, like-- I've never really explored anythin' regardin' gender 'nd sexuality stuff all too much, I jus' know th'type a'folks I'm attracted ta."

"Which is?"

"More... masculine? types a'folks?"

"Hm, alright. Go on."

"Gods, why do I feel like I'm bein' judged super hard right now?"

"I ain't judgin' ya, primo, I'm just tryna figure out where ya stand on all of this. Haven't really spoken to cityfolk for this long, so I'm jus' pickin' at yer head, y'can say."

"... Okay, well, I know that there are lots a'identities 'nd ways people can feel comfortable callin' themselves, but I jus'... I dunno, never really had th'chance ta explore that fer m'self."

At this, Tani grows even more interested, quirking a brow and dropping the pit of the jocote into a bowl. "So, are ya sayin' ya wanna explore?"

"-- Aye. I do."

Grinning, Tani nods and moves to stand up, taking the bowl of jocote seeds with her to place on a table for them to either be discarded or planted.

Wrapping an arm around Azhi'li's shoulders, she jostles him a bit before gesturing for him to follow. "Come, primito, for I shall enlighten ya."

They make their way to Tani's home, where they're then met with squealing from children as they swing the door open and cry out, "Papa!" before flinging themselves at Tani. They catch their kids within their strong arms, laughing in delight and placing kisses upon the three young miqo'te's heads. "Buenas, bebecitos. Did ya have a good day?" he asks, the children chiming out, 'si!'

"Hello, tio Zizi!" they then say, and Azhi'li grins down at them and chuckles, ruffling their little heads and big ears. "Buenas."

Smiling, Tani nudges Azhi'li gently before gesturing for him to follow again into her room. Making it to a chair, she plops herself on it with a grunt while relaxing back into it, gesturing for her cousin to join her. He does just so, sitting across from her on another chair while the children clamber up on their parent, and one on Azhi'li.

"So, Azhi'li," he begins, his tone gentle, before canting his head to the side as he holds onto a child in each arm, "What do you know 'bout yerself?"

"-- Well, what do y'mean?"

"What makes ya comfortable, an' what doesn't? Th'way you an' I operate are completely different. I don't feel th'same way you do, nor do you feel th'same way I do. So I wanna know 'bout ya-- but first, I think you should know 'bout ya. Y'said y'know 'bout 'identities' 'nd stuff, pero... what is it that y'know?"

"Um... I know that-- not everyone identifies th'way they're perceived? Like... someone who is normally seen as a 'woman' may not be comfortable bein' identified as such."

"Mm, alright. It's a start."

"Huh?"

With a laugh, Tani shook their head and grinned toothily. "Not everythin' is all that meets the eye, primito. I understand that...cityfolks, t'use a lighter term, tend t'have this notion that a lot a'stuff is black an' white, when it really ain't."

"I don’t understand..."

"A lot a'cityfolks believe that if ya look a certain way, ya gotta be a certain way. Gotta be addressed a certain way, behave a certain way... We don't work like that here. Some folks are comfortable fitting within that binary, an' that's alright. Most a'us here don't do that," she explained, gesturing to herself afterwards. "Y'heard th'way people talk ta me here. El, ella, elle. Him, her, them. I don't give a rat's ass 'bout gender or sex. I jus' live th'life I want for m'self. Here, we call that volado. Flown. Think th'people outside of the Sankres call it non-binary or somethin' akin ta that. We don't exist within th'binary, 'nd that's th'way we wanna keep it, y'know? We ain't 'man' or 'woman', we're jus' our own person. That don't mean that volados is its own binary either, b'cause that ain't th'damn point of it, y'know? We ain't a 'third gender'."

"... Okay. I think-- I understand a bit more. Is there-- a way to know who's part a'that--... uh. Category..?"

"First of all, don't say that," he chastises with a huff, shaking his head. "Secondly, no. There ain't. It's never really a topic a'discussion ta be brought up, b'cause why would it be? S'jus' normal fer those folks, they know what they're doin', 'nd if they wanna tell ya or bring it up, then they will."

"Sorry. So-- how do I know if--... I'm someone like that?"

Tani shrugged, smiling lightly. "S'different from person ta person, primito. There ain't one decided way someone needs t'feel in order to consider themselves such. That's fer you to decide, no one else."

"... Well, I don't think I'm that-- I mean, I probably would'a known by now, right?"

"Hells no, y'wouldn't have. Zizi, there is somethin' y'keep missin', 'nd it's that everyone goes at their own pace. That includes you, too," she informs, firmly, giving him a pointed look. "Some folks know when they're a kid," they begin, patting one of their children's backs, "'nd other folks don't find out 'till they're old 'nd grey. In the end, they still find out 'nd are able to do whatever they want with that new knowledge. Everyone operates differently. It's never too late t'learn more 'bout yerself."

Azhi'li then grows silent, staring down at the floor between them while still holding onto his sobrine. They look towards Azhi'li curiously, smiling and papping at his cheek, causing him to blink and look over to them.

"It's okay, tio. You just do what makes you happy. That's what everyone says."

With a smile, Tani nods, looking back towards Azhi'li again. "At one point, y'jus' gotta think for yerself, primo. 'nd if ya discover that ye're happy with th'way y'call yerself 'nd identify yerself with, then that's all that matters, y'know? Be happy with yerself, jus' how others are happy that you're who ya are, too."

Locking eyes with Tani, Azhi'li grows silent once again before smiling a bit, nodding. "... I think I wanna at least learn more 'nd explore. Can I do that?"

"Always. There is never new knowledge fer those who don't seek it."

-------------------------

With Azeyma finally at rest and Menphina shining over Her Sister's watch, Azhi'li makes it back home-- Sena's home, where his uncle lovingly offered him a room to stay in.

Parting the tapestry, he steps in and blinks at the sight of his uncle whittling before he spots his nephew, smiling warmly with a wiggle of his ears. "Welcome home, Dhezi. Did you have a good day?"

"I did, thanks tio. -- Hey, can-- can ya do me a favor?"

"Anything, sobrino. What's wrong?"

"Nothin', jus'-- can y'cut m'hair?"

Record scratch.

Sena blinked owlishly, glancing up at Azhi'li with widened eyes. Almost as though he was in disbelief. Well, no, not almost-- he was. "... Ah? I assumed you did not want to cut your hair since I thought it was something special for you?"

"It is. It always has been. I never cut it 'nd refused t'let people cut it b'cause... I kinda used it as a way t'hold onta y'all; t'hold onta m'brother, Zisi. But, now that I'm here with y'all, 'nd now that I am ready t'move on... I'm ready t'start lettin' go of th'past, too."

The older Seeker stared at his nephew in awe before smiling lightly, standing up slowly as he nodded. "Then it would be an honor. Come, sit down. Forgive your tio, though, because I may not do the best work..." he warns with a nervous chuckle.

"Hey, it's fine, s'long as it grows back!"

"Oh, I'm sure it will with how long you've had it without maintaining it regularly," he quips with a chuff, causing Azhi'li to laugh.

After bathing, Azhi'li sat in a chair with his towel-dried hair over his shoulders. Sena rounded behind him with a pair of scissors and a comb before asking, "Now... Are you sure you wish to do this, sobrino?"

"Si, tio. I'm ready."

"Bueno."

Snip.

#zizi's arc #story time #azhi #tani #sena

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sgtduckybucky · 4 years

Text

a new beginning

A/N: I was replaying the ps4 game when i got inspired to write this. also, not beta read :p

Peter Parker, secretly known as Spider-Man, was on his way to F.E.A.S.T after receiving a phone call from Mr. Li, informing him that the party for aunt May’s fifth year anniversary working at the shelter was all set.

Peter could sense a small smile forming on his lips underneath his mask. Aunt May has been working tirelessly, both with him and the shelter, and it was time for her to take.

After landing on the rooftop of the shelter and changing to his everyday civilian attire, Peter made his way indoors and made a beeline to where Mr. Li was located.

“Everything’s ready.” Mr. Li said as a way of greeting, “Peter, would you mind keeping May distracted while I gather up everyone and bring the cake?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Li.” Peter gave a two fingered saluted and headed to where aunt May was checking on the delivered supplies that the shelter needed.

“Hey, there’s my favorite aunt.”

“Peter!” Aunt May gushed as she turned around to greet him. “What a nice surprise.” Her smile was so bright that the brunette couldn’t help but to mirror it.

“Need some help?”

Aunt May glanced at the boxes behind her at his question, “Uh, yeah, sure...Oh, there are some heavy boxes-” she rattled off, staring down at her chart, as she turned to head to the kitchen.

“NO! No. No! I mean, I mean...not yet!” Quickly, Peter placed a hand on her shoulder and redirected her to have her back facing the kitchen.

“I mean, I came to uh...” The words tumbled out of his mouth, looking nervous. “I just wanted to talk.”

“Okay...” May had a look of concern. She nodded to when one of the benches and pushed Peter to take a seat.

“Umm...” Peter’s mind came to a blank as he tried to think of a topic to converse with aunt with.

“Peter, are you in trouble?” Aunt May didn’t look concern but he could tell she was becoming a bit impatient. “Do you need money?”

He quickly sat up. Instantly feeling guilty whenever the topic of money came up. Aunt May has already spent so much money on him.

“No. I mean, I’m a little behind on rent but...no, no, no...I’m fine.”

May’s eyebrows quirked before she smirked in amusement. “Girl problems again?” She turned to head to the kitchen but Peter was quick to grab her arm and turn her around.

“What? No, that’s crazy!” A small flush tinted Peter’s ears.

Sighing, aunt May’s shoulders sagged. “If you’re bothered with me trying to get you and Y/N together, you could always just tell me.”

At that, Peter instantly dropped his hand and avoided her gaze.

Aunt May let out a long exhale of breath as she sat down on the bench, “I know you still want to work things out with MJ but maybe...Maybe it’s time for a change.” Peter still avoided her gaze but she continued. “Find closure and move on with your life. It’s not healthy to be stuck on something and insist for it to work.”

Peter met her gaze this time.

“It doesn’t have to be with Y/N.” May said as a matter of finally and just when she was about to sit up, Peter stopped her with a yell.

“Peter?” May looked up at him with worry. “What is it? Come on, you can tell me.”

Sighing heavily, Peter ran his fingers through his hair. “These past few years...” It wasn’t easy for Peter to be so open with his emotions. To be vulnerable and honest. “You helping with college and working here...Sacrificing so much and, asking for nothing. I just wish there were more people like you in the world.”

He could see Mr. Li and a handful of people who were close to his aunt walk up behind the woman. His eyes avoided Y/N, who was pushing the cart that had the plates, utensils and the cake with blue icing that had a small message of congratulating May in elegant cursive.

“He’s right.” Mr. Li agreed, startling the old woman.

After Mr. Li’s speech on how aunt May inspires him, the cake was cut and everyone took a piece for themselves.

“Hey,” Y/N came to stand next to Peter, a plate with a slice of vanilla cake in her hand, “Thanks for helping out.”

Peter shrugged his shoulders, “I didn’t do anything. You guys did all the work.”

Y/N smiled at him, “But you kept May busy while we got everything ready so that still counts.”

Peter returned the smile, shyly, and was about to thank Y/N for baking the cake when his phone rang. “Oh, I gotta run. Thanks for baking the cake!” he threw over his shoulder while running to the front doors.

Y/N awkwardly waved after him and watched him go.

It wasn’t until weeks later, before Peter helped MJ at the museum, did he run into Y/N at the shelter again.

“Hey, you.” She greeted with a smile.

“Hey.”

You could say that today was Peter’s day off since he didn’t have to meet with Dr. Octavius and Yuri had instructed to leave all the petty crimes to her squad unit since she had to train new recruits. Bored, and with nothing to do, Peter swung by the shelter to see if he could help out.

“Need a friendly hand?”

Y/N chuckled, “Can’t say no it an extra pair of hands.”

The two worked along, laughing and bantering here and there. Peter discovered that he and Y/N had a lot in common. From cringy early 2000s emo music to Star Trek tv shows and movies. He was having so much fun that he didn’t notice that it was dark outside until Yuri had called about some suspicious activities happening at the music.

Sighing, Peter pocketed his phone and gave an apologetic smile to Y/N. “I’m really sorry but I gotta-”

“Go?” She finished for him.

Peter looked away sheepishly.

Y/N shook her head and took the bundle of blankets from his hands, “You know, one might think you’re a spy with the way you constantly have to leave somewhere.”

Peter stared at her in alarm, worried that she might be suspecting his secret identity. But hearing the way she chuckled at her own ludicrous imagination, he relaxed a bit.

“It’s fine.” She assured, “You got places to be and things to do.” She waved him off.

“I owe you one.”

“Coffee.”

Peter faltered in his steps and turned sharply to face Y/N, “Huh?”

Y/N had an air of confidence as she clarified, “Coffee date. This Friday. 11 am.”

Wanting to turn her down but not having the time to due to the urgency of his mission, Peter gave her a halfhearted smile and ran out the door. Just like he had the nigh of aunt May’s party.

Unfortunately, Peter never made it to the coffee date.

Running into MJ at the museum two years after their (3rd? 4th? he lost count) breakup was too much for Peter. Old memories replayed in his head like a broken film projector. His emotions were all over the place as he made sure she didn’t get herself killed that night. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and it was so unbearable that he could go onto the date with Y/N that he had promised.

Though, he didn’t really promise her. He had just said something that would allow for him to leave so he was sure she wouldn’t really mind, right?

Wrong.

She minded.

When he finally returned to the shelter and head off to where Y/N was counting the supplies that needed refilling, Peter was expecting to be greeted with a smile and a conversation on science fiction.

Instead, Y/N had acted as if Peter was invisible. She didn’t greet him, let alone look at him!

No matter how many times he had tried calling her name and trying to get her attention, Y/N just continued to simply ignore him.

He knew he should’ve have bailed on her but he was too overwhelmed with his resurfaced feelings with MJ that he couldn’t focus on someone else and worry about protecting them as well.

This went on for days.

Aunt May has noticed. And, although she didn’t know the exact context, she had told Peter to be patient. She was sure that Y/N will get over it and talk to him again. Peter wasn’t so sure.

And, as always, Aunt May was right.

A week after the museum incident, Peter was working an extra shift at F.E.A.S.T when he received a call from Yuri. Not wanting anyone to notice him leave, Peter stealthy made it to the backdoors of the shelter home and climbed up the fire escape stairs up to the rooftop.

Just as he was about to undress, the door to the rooftop opened to reveal Y/N.

She was about to leave but Peter quickly stopped her by firmly grabbing onto her wrist. “Y/N, wait!”

He could see Y/N shake her head but she did turn to face him. Though, she snatched her arm and crossed both arms under her breasts. “What?” She spat and Peter was hit with guilt.

“I’m so sorry I bailed out. I didn’t mean to. I just had stuff to do and-” Peter was interrupted with a loud and an uncaring snort as Y/N heavily rolled her eyes at him.

“You always have somewhere to go. Something to do and I’m honestly tired.” And in that moment, Peter could see the dark circles under her eyes. “I’m not your girlfriend, I know that. But if you’re going to be so secretive and miss out on dates before we even start a relationship, maybe I don’t want to be your girlfriend.”

Peter rubbed his hands down his face as he tried to gather his thoughts. This was the same problem he had had with MJ before they started dating. He didn’t want to repeat the same mistake with Y/N and Peter didn’t know if he liked her or trusted her enough to reveal his secret identity. Plus...it wasn’t safe.

“You know what, just forget it.” The sniff accompanying Y/N’s words pulled Peter away from his thoughts and grabbed onto her arm again.

“Y/N, there’s a reason...to all the secrecy. And I wish I could tell you but I can’t” There was a plea in Peter’s voice that he hoped Y/N would catch. He wished his life was simple. Hell, he even wished he had the same level of confidence and bravery as Tony Stark and be open about his identity but life wasn’t so easy for Peter. After what had happened with uncle Ben, after the villains that went after Aunt May and MJ, Peter really couldn’t let another person live such a life of fear and paranoia.

“I wish you could trust me.”

Maybe it was the sincerity in her words. Maybe it was the hurt in her eyes. Or maybe it was the fact that Peter tired of living a double life and he just wanted to be selfish for a little bit and do whatever he wanted. Whatever it was, Peter found himself let go of Y/N’s arm and take a couple of steps backwards.

“This may shock you.” He muttered under his breath. He clutched the front of his button up shirt and ripped it open, revealing the new and improved Spider-Man outfit that Dr. Octavius had given him.

Confusion overtook her features before realization took over. Y/N gasped as she covered her mouth.

“Y-You’re-”

“Spider-Man? Yeah...” Peter looked away, not wanting to see what kind of reaction Y/N might have once she processed this new information.

“I knew it.”

Peter’s head snapped upwards so fast he was surprised his neck didn’t snap. “What?”

Y/N pushed her fingers through her neck length locks, “I knew you were a superhero but I didn’t know which one.” she laughed nervously.

“How did you...?”

“Oh, come on.” She rolled her eyes. “The secret phone calls? Leaving somewhere randomly in the middle of something? It was difficult to come to a conclusion like that.” She explained, “I just thought you worked with S.H.I.E.L.D.S”

Peter blinked at her, unsure what to say.

“You’re surprisingly taking this very well.” He settled on saying.

Y/N snorted at his words, ““Well, we live in a city filled with superheroes. So.” She shrugged her shoulders.

True. Superheroes were not uncommon in New York.

“But,” Peter met her eyes and took in the slight shiver overtaking her, “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not scared - hell, I’m terrified. For myself, for you, for my friends and family.”

Peter looked away, ready to accept another rejection.

“However,” Y/N continued, “I know what I was getting myself into the moment I realized I liked you and thought you worked with S.H.I.E.L.D.S. I know being Spider-Man is completely different and has more life threatening risks but, I want this. I want to be with you, Peter. And I want us to work together. I’m not going to lie and say that I’ll sit at home and do nothing but I promise I wont get in your way. Just, just trust me and depend on me when you need to.”

Her words and her smile that followed afterwards lifted an immense pressure off of Peter’s shoulders. He was scared. He was a Superhero and if his true identity were to be discovered, many people would be in danger because of him. But Y/N’s words of acceptance and support added a boost of courage in his system.

“Okay,” Peter agreed shakily, “But we take things slow.” He said.

Y/N walked the few steps forward and embraced Peter with a warm hug of comfort.

“But if I sensed that things were getting way out of hands and your life is in danger, then we end this.”

Y/N nodded her head, “Only if we do it in a civilized manner.”

And Peter had to agree. One of the many problems that caused his and MJ’s countless breakups was that the two always fought. The two never sat down and talk through things in calm manner. Always clashing and yelling which resulted in one of them crying. It was toxic and unhealthy and Peter will make sure that he won’t be doing the same with Y/N.

Hopefully though, he won’t come to regret revealing his secret with Y/N and starting this relationship with her.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman x you

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 4 years

Text

June Visitation - Father’s Day

Note: Since it was pointed out to me by a friend that visitation falls on Father’s Day, I’ve used that as a starting point for this month. It isn’t the main focus of the piece, but it does serve as a starting point for discussion of bullying. With that in mind, it will be under a read-more.

Yancy has been one step away from getting into big trouble all day. Something has put him in foul mood. If he’s going to open up to anyone and talk about what’s bothering him, it’s you.

Word Count: 1,547

As usual on Visitation Day, you entered reception, followed the necessary procedures regarding giving contact details and going through security, and sat on a chair in the waiting room. You had your headphones in so you could listen to that song that’s been in your head lately as you zoned out. Suddenly, there was a firm tap on your shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten ya.” You sharply tugged your headphones out, bewildered as to why the Warden was standing in front of you. Once he knew you had recovered from your fright, he adjusted his jacket. “Now I know you’re here to see Yancy, but I was lookin’ for a favour. We’ve had someone alert th’ guards that Yancy’s in peculiar form. Somethin’s been eatin’ at th’ boy, but he’s not willin’ to talk to anyone about it. I was hopin’ you might be able to get him to open up so we can figure out if there’s a way we can help.” Concerned for Yancy, you agree. “Excellent! Just be careful - he’s in pretty foul humour today. We’ll be takin’ precautions so he don’t hurt anyone. Don’t be alarmed when you see him. If you need any help for keepin’ him in line, you just let me know.” He gives you a firm nod, before turning and walking off. It wasn’t long after that before you were called into the visitation room to take your usual seat.

In the many months you’ve been coming here, you had never once seen Yancy in handcuffs until today. He was grumbling under his breath and shot a glare at the guard who had escorted him to you. A vague memory of being told how Yancy was a ‘problematic’ prisoner at times crossed your mind. You had dismissed it at the time, but now you couldn’t help but wonder what he must be like on normal days.

“Oh, don’t gimme that look.” Yancy’s snap dropped you back in the present moment. Even with the handcuffs, his body language was so closed off compared to what it would be normally. It was like he wanted to see you, but didn’t want to be here. Your concern on why he was in handcuffs was met with a scoff. “Oh, yeah, sure. Like the Warden hasn’t told youse I’m a ‘brawl risk’ today an’ that I’m only allowed to see youse ‘cause I didn’t start nothing today.” You never considered yourself anything particularly wonderful when it came to Yancy’s moods, but right now you couldn’t help but feel like you were a minor burden of some sort. If anything, you were almost seen as an enemy. You forced yourself to relax and uncross your arms so you could try and explain to Yancy that you are here because you missed him and you wanted to see how he was doing.

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say.

“Oh, yeah, sure! So then youse can go snitch to th’ Warden ‘bout me so he finally has an excuse to throw me in Solitary for a week. I’m not an idiot. I know they’s got youse on their side to dig under my skin an’ really piss me off. So why don’t youse do me a favour an’ fuck off?”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and you could feel a surge of emotion welling inside. You wanted to cry, you wanted to argue, you wanted to slap him hard. But instead, you rose to your feet and excused yourself for a moment. Yancy’s anger dropped to horror as he realised what he had said, but it was too late. The fear amplified when you returned a few moments later with a guard following you. Already, the familiar panic began to set in his stomach. You had reported him, and now he was going to be punished for that.

Instead, the guard pulled Yancy onto his feet as you announced you both were going outside.

The two of you sat on the bench in the smaller, enclosed rec yard. The guard stood to the side: far enough away to allow the courtesy of a private conversation, but close enough to intercept should Yancy try anything. Several long minutes ticked past as you sat in silence. Yancy was hunched over as he intently stared at the handcuffs like the metal would melt if he didn’t break eye contact. You couldn’t think of anything to lift the mood as you kept your eyes on a cloud passing overhead.

“Look… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean none of what I said.” Yancy’s mumbling finally brought an end to the awkwardness as he lifted his head to look at you. Guilt was clear as day on his face, you realised. “It’s… It’s been a shitty few days. I’ve had an asshole trying to get me to snap an’ blame me for something I didn’t do.” You placed a hand on his shoulder and encouraged him to speak, but only if he wanted to. At first, he said nothing, but a quick shake of his head followed this.

“Today would’ve been my pa’s birthday. It don’t happen too often, but it sometimes falls on Father’s Day. It’s pretty easy for me to block out the dates, but…” He gave such a heavy sigh that his shoulders slumped. “There’s this guy. We call him the Rat. Seen as one of them ‘model prisoners’ by the guards and the Warden, but he’s a piece of shit. When he gets bored, he decides he wants to start a brawl. But he never does it himself. He picks someone an’ whittles ‘em down until they snap. Then they gets in trouble, an’ the Rat gets the brownie points for warning the guards ‘bout it. So guess who is his newest target?” You winced in sympathy. Already, you could see where this was going.

“In a place like this, people get to know why long-term prisoners are here. My crimes ain’t a secret. So last week, Rat comes up to me, an’ starts talkin’ bullshit ‘bout his kids at home. Now, I’ve been in here long enough. I know how he works. So I don’t engage none, like youse told me. I ignored him and let whatever he was saying go past. But ‘cause he wasn’t impressed that I didn’t take the bait, he upped th’ ante. Every time he passed me, he’d drop some fuckin’ comment. Somethin’ ‘bout Father’s Day, or braggin’ to his cronies ‘bout how great it must be to get a care package from a father that cares. I tried. I swear, I tried. But as th’ week went on, it started eatin’ away at me. The gang noticed and did try to help keep him away, an’ it worked - until today. Rat managed to pull me aside after breakfast an’ started this whole fuckin’ rant about how much of a piece of shit I am, an’ how he would’ve preferred my ol’ man killing me instead. Said how my pa might’ve gotten a medal of honour for it too or some shit like that.” Your hand squeezed his shoulder as he spoke. After all this time, the topic of his parents - particularly his father - was one that still provoked him.

“Youse woulda been proud of me. I didn’t do nothing. I wanted to punch him in that smug face and break his damn jaw, but I didn’t. I did like youse said - I balled my hands into fists and counted to ten before going back to my cell. But by th’ time I got there, two guards were there an’ put these handcuffs on me.” His hands moved just enough to make the chain rattle. Then, he gave a hoarse chuckle. “So then I had th’ guards on my back all mornin’ like they was waiting for an excuse to pounce me an’ drag me off as well as Rat an’ his cronies tryin’ to poke at me. An’ then… Just before I was brought into see youse, Rat told me he saw youse talkin’ to the Warden. So then when youse started sayin’ all that stuff earlier… I thought youse was against me too.”

The final confession was enough for you to pull Yancy into a tight hug. You promised you weren’t trying to get Yancy in trouble, and the Warden only spoke to you to warn you that Yancy was in a bad mood. But above all, you were proud of Yancy for staying on higher ground and keeping his temper in check, even if others were trying to egg him on to start a fight. You knew it would likely be a bad idea, but you suggested telling the Warden. He might help diffuse tensions, or at the least, try and keep the pair separated. Yancy’s head dropped to rest on your shoulder with a sigh.

“Yeah, youse is right. I’ll see if I can talk to him when we go back… Can we stay here? Youse managed to get us out here an’ I ain’t ready to go back inside yet.” Not wanting to rush the quiet time either, you agreed with a kiss to his hair. Both of you relaxed into another silence, one that was more tranquil than before.

#writersofmark #visitation day #yancy the prisoner #yancy #x reader #yancy x reader #tw bullying #bullying cw #(if there are any other warning tags I need to add; let me know!)#dramatic prisoner (Yancy)#(Ash tries writing a little angst)#(scheduled post)#(that's right - I actually finished this too early and could schedule it to appear later in the day my time :D )

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bruadarxch · 4 years

Text

Wonderstruck (1/4)

Delphine Lacroix raves about Miss Shirley and her crazy lessons. Her uncle Gilbert thinks his niece surely has an overactive imagination, but one day he has to pick her up from school and a certain redhead covered in paint from head to toe crashes into him.

OR: Gilbert Blythe puts his foot in it when he meets Anne in every universe. Luckily for him, she didn't have any heavy objects around in this one. (AO3 link)

***

“Blythe.”

A voice makes Gilbert stir in his sleep. He lets out a whimper and rolls over, refusing to wake up.

“Blythe. Gilbert,” the voice insists, and he feels a hand shaking his arm.

Bash?

“Wake up you moke!”

Yup. Definitely Bash.

Gilbert finally manages to slightly open his eyes and the afternoon light blinds him. Bash is standing over him, looking slightly exasperated.

“What?” Gilbert asks, voice muffled with sleep. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost one in the afternoon,” Bash replies. “I know you had a long shift at the hospital last night but this is an emergency.”

At this Gilbert bolts up in his bed, his doctor brain taking over any trace of sleepiness. “What happened? Are you okay? Is Delly okay?”

“Everyone’s fine!” Bash quickly says, wincing. “Sorry, not that kind of emergency.”

“Bash!”

“I’m sorry! But it is an emergency,” Bash insists. “I wouldn’t wake you up if it wasn’t.”

“Okay, okay,” Gilbert says, rubbing his eyes. “What is it?”

“You need to pick up Delphine from school.”

“That’s it? Don’t you usually call a babysitter for that?” he asks, slightly confused.

“Yes, Blythe, but Mr Barry just called about a last minute situation with the exports team and Mrs Lynde couldn’t come on such short notice,” Bash explains, visibly frustrated with his adoptive brother’s refusal to just get up already. “So can you please do your uncle duty and go pick Delly up?”

“When does she get out?”

“In half an hour, ” Bash says pointedly.

“Oh shit!” Gilbert finally gets out of bed and hastily starts getting dressed. “Okay, I’m coming.”

“Thank you!” Bash calls out, already rushing out the front door. “I’ll text you the address. Don’t be late!”

Gilbert is late.

It’s not completely his fault, traffic in the afternoon is always a nightmare even in their relatively small city. That, and he had never been to little Delphine’s school so he accidentally gets lost. He’s not extremely late though, so he’s sure he’ll be able to persuade his 7-year-old niece into forgiving him with a quick trip to her favorite ice cream shop. He just hopes Bash thought ahead and called the school so her teacher doesn’t think he’s trying to kidnap Delly or something.

He vaguely recalls Delly talking about her teacher during dinner. Gilbert never took his niece’s stories about Miss Shirley too seriously, knowing how wild Delly’s imagination is. It’s just impossible that a teacher would do things like take her students on a field trip to the middle of the forest so they could “whisper secrets to the trees, the best listeners nature had to offer”. It simply sounded ridiculous, but Delly did complete a very nice project on the different varieties of trees in Prince Edward Island.

When Gilbert finally arrives to the school building—and only about ten minutes late, to his infinite relief—he feels uneasy. Like there’s something momentous about to happen to him but he doesn’t know exactly what. Weird. He’s walking up the steps to the front door when someone pulls it open from the inside and a red-headed figure barrels into him.

“Whoa!” he exclaims taking the young woman by the arms before they both fall down the stairs. “Are you okay?”

Then she looks at him with big blue eyes and his heart picks up speed. His mind goes blank as they both take each other in. She’s short, barely coming up to his shoulders. Her long red hair is cascading down her back and she’s looking at him with parted lips and a faint blush on her freckle-covered cheeks. Cute, his unhelpful mind supplies. He swears the world slows down around them, and he almost forgets where he is. Then it’s like the woman in front of him suddenly shakes herself off the weird spell between them.

“Sorry,” she sputters. “Oh god! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay, no worries,” he smiles at her.

“This is mortifying,” she continues, avoiding his gaze. “Utterly mortifying! I wish this was the first time my overactive brain makes me lose sight of my surroundings but I can promise it’s not, probably not the last either...”

“It’s fine, really!”

“...which is why the principal will have a field day with this,” the redhead rattles on, “she was just reminding me about the perils of being distracted in the school environment and not even an hour later here I am. Harming people!”

“You just bumped into me,” Gilbert quips, amused.

“Oh but only because you’re an adult, and my tiny constitution couldn’t possibly make a big impact, but imagine the catastrophic consequences of such an accident if I were to crash into one of our tiny students!”

“Well, I won’t tell if you don’t,” he gives her a teasing grin. “This... accident can stay between us.”

The woman rolls her eyes but seems grateful. He takes a proper look at her this time and that’s when he notices that she’s covered in paint of different colors from head to toe. There’s a big splotch of green on her right cheek and multicolored droplets all over the tips of her red hair. She’s wearing an apron that maybe someday was white, but now is anything but. She looks like she’s just come back from a paintball battle instead of a classroom. She notices him staring and crosses her arms in front of her, self consciously.

“Can I help you with anything?”

“Uh...” Shit. Gilbert had almost forgotten why he was in the school in the first place. Luckily for him, this is the moment his niece finds him.

“Uncle Gilby!” Delphine squeals, throwing herself at his legs. He smiles and picks her up, almost forgetting the weird encounter with the woman still in front of him.

“Hello Princess Delphine,” he says warmly. “Daddy couldn’t come pick you up, wanna have a date with your favorite uncle?”

“You’re late!” she chastises him, crossing her little arms.

“I know,” he says, apologetically. “Will you forgive me if I buy you ice cream?”

“Three whole balls?” she asks excitedly. Gilbert laughs.

“Okay, but don’t tell your dad,” he whispers conspiratorially. Delly giggles and he puts her down, taking her little hand in his. Then he turns to the woman still standing in front of them. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. I’m Gilbert Blythe, Delphine’s uncle. Her father couldn’t pick her up today, he had a last minute situation at work.”

The redhead begins to introduce herself but the little girl in Gilbert’s arms interrupts her.

“Uncle Gil this is Miss Shirley! She’s super smart like you,” Delly says excitedly. “Isn’t she the prettiest girl in the whole world?”

At this both adults blush a deep red. They both avoid the other’s eyes and Gilbert clears his throat wishing his niece hadn’t inherited Bash’s gift for embarrassing him in public.

“That’s impossible, Princess Delphine,” he answers, very pointedly not looking at the indeed very pretty woman in front of him. “You are the prettiest girl in the world. Now go pick up your stuff, we should get going.”

Delly giggles in delight and runs back into the school building, leaving the two adults alone in an awkward silence. Gilbert looks back at the teacher and tries to clear the tension.

“So you’re the famous Miss Shirley?” he asks, flashing her a smile.

“I guess I am. Most adults just call me Anne, though,” she replies, offering her hand. He shakes it and he does an okay job of ignoring the strange tingling sensation the handshake gives him. Anne clears her throat this time—looking similarly affected, might he add—and tries to stir the conversation into a safe topic. “Delphine is a very bright girl, you must be proud.”

“Oh yeah, I am,” he smiles warmly. He never thought he’d be the type of person to get sappy about kids, but watching Delly grow up has been one of the greatest joys of his life. She’s brought so much joy to their home, and she continues to amaze him every day with the things she learns and the adventures she get herself into at just seven years old. He can’t quite contain the expression of pure love that takes over his face, and Anne must pick up on it because she smiles back at him. He looks back at her... colorful current state of being and chuckles. “I’ve heard a lot about you, actually. I thought Delly was making your crazy lessons up, but I guess I was wrong.”

He didn’t mean it as a bad thing, but the icy glare she gives him tells him his choice of words was definitely a mistake.

“Excuse me?!” she whispers, anger clear in her voice. Gilbert gulps.

“Oh I didn’t mean...!”

“I’ll have you know that my methods are calculated and highly efficient,” she hisses. “It’s enough that the old fashioned people at this school question me even though I’ve proven myself time and time again. I won’t tolerate it from someone who’s only known me for fifteen minutes and hasn’t even set foot in this school once!”

Gilbert is at a loss of words. He obviously didn’t mean to offend Anne, but the fire in her eyes suggests she is very much offended—even tempted to hit him with something given the opportunity. He hates himself for it, but underneath all the embarrassment he thinks Anne Shirley is a passionate individual alright. He can’t lie to himself and say she doesn’t look beautiful all riled up, because she does—hands resting on her hips, eyes bright, flushed cheeks, looking ready to take on the world.

Before he can say something even more idiotic and give her an opportunity to actually slap him, his very opportune niece bursts through the door again demanding the ice cream he promised.

He lets sweet, unaware Delly drag him away as he casts an apologetic look at the still furious teacher. She merely crosses her arms in front of her.

“Good afternoon, Mr Blythe,” Anne says coldly. With that she turns and disappears inside the building.

Gilbert is left with the strongest shame clouding his thoughts and a heart doing somersaults inside his chest. Fuck.

#awae #anne with an e #awae fanfic #shirbert #shirbert fanfiction #shirbert fanfic #modern au #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #i'm so excited about this story!!#i needed something sweet to survive this season #i hope you like it!!

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hispeculiartreasure · 5 years

Text

All We’ve Got is Time - Chapter Fifteen | B.B.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

AU: If They’d Survived/Post-War/Window Washer!Bucky Barnes

Rating: Teen

Word count: 4,300

Chapter 15/24

Warnings: Language, PTSD symptoms, lots of angst, Bucky is sad, allusions to horrible war time, self-loathing, etc.

AN: It’s hard to articulate exactly why this chapter was so hard for me to write. My own mental health played a big part in it, but there was something deeper I was forced to work through when confronted with their heavy conversation. Forever shoutout to my relentless cheerleader @lucyyannabel. I’m blessed to have @barnesrogersvstheworld in my life, who put a finger on my doubts and worries of this chapter and gently shooed them away. May we all have an Attie in our life who so ardently tells you how valuable and loved you are. And you are, Reader. I promise. Love you.

Chapter Fourteen

‘All We’ve Got is Time’ Masterlist

“Chevrolet Corporate, Anderson’s desk, how may I help you?” you rattle off into your desk phone’s handset, distracted by the rough draft of a memo your boss had tossed on your desk with little instruction.

“Hey, baby.”

The paper falls from your fingertips. “Buc-? Hi, wh- are you okay?”

You hear a sigh and then, “Sorry to call you at work, I know it could get you in trouble. Wanted to catch you early.”

It doesn’t escape your notice that he hadn’t answered your question. “What can I do for you today, sir?” You phrase the question again, warily eyeing Flannery across the office.

“‘M gonna have to bow out of dinner tonight. I know it’s my second time this week, I’m just absolutely beat, think I may be getting sick. I’m leaving work right now. Wouldn’t be much fun company.”

“Oh,” you deflate in your chair. “We’re sorry to hear that, sir. Is there anything we could do to accommodate you? Perhaps an alteration to the proposed agenda?”

“I don’t think so. Just wanna be home and go to sleep. I’m sorry, I know we haven’t seen each other this week. I’ll make it up to you.”

You keep your voice professional, shoving down your disappointment. “There’s no need for that, sir. I’ll make note of the change in schedule and be in touch at a later date to confirm with your office.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Feel better,” you whisper before setting the receiver down. Something in his tone haunts you the rest of the morning and well into the lunch hour. You don’t hear the break room’s topic of debate as you push your leftovers aimlessly around your pyrex. A bitter taste had settled in your mouth after the unexpected phone call.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Suzy slides into the seat next to you, sounding too casual for your taste.

“Got a lot on my mind.” You chew another mouthful of fruit in contemplation.

“This have to do with your dreamboat?”

“I’m really not in the mood today, Suze.”

“That’s fine. But are you okay?”

Chewing your lip, you turn to her. Her red curls had a little extra bounce but her eyes betrayed her concern for you. “Not really. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s not right with him. I can’t shake the idea that he’s avoiding me.”

“Did anything specific happen? You guys have a fight?”

“No fighting. . . though he acted strangely after our last date.”

“Strange how?”

The yellow and orange leaves beneath your feet had a distinct crunch to them synonymous with the time of year. It had been a standard evening out for the two of you: comfort food from the diner, a shared piece of pie, and a stroll along the streets. Now that the temperature had been dropping slowly, you could nestle closer to each other.

“‘M just saying, you’ve picked the pie the last few times, I’m past due to choose the flavor.”

“But Bucky, you pick blackberry every time, I’m giving us some variety!” you protested.

“Why would you stray from a pie that never fails you? One that never gives up, that truly strives to be its best for us-”

“Are you eating this pie or marrying it?”

“It’s crossed my mind.”

Your giggles and his chuckles echoed, the street lamps lighting your way home.

“I don’t know why you’re with me then, sounds like pie is your true-”

A loud pop shattered the peace of the night and Bucky went rigid. Before you knew what was happening a shove knocked the breath out of you and you ended up several steps behind your boyfriend. He’d grabbed a pipe out of a nearby trash can, ready to wield it against anyone.

“Buck, it’s okay.” You reached out to grab his shoulder and he immediately jerked away from you, chest heaving. “Hon, it was just a car back-firing.”

His eyes were wide and terrified, grip tight on the pipe.

“We’re okay, Buck. We’re safe, nothing is going to hurt us.”

“Right. Sorry. That . . . was an overreaction.”

“You alright?” you stepped toward him. “I know you-”

He took a surreptitious step backward. “I’m fine, uh. . . yeah, I’m fine. Oh, and your door’s right here.”

“Bucky, you’re not-”

“I’m good, really. I’ll see you in a few days, right? Hope you sleep well.”

Decidedly distracted, he brushed his lips against your forehead and took off down the street, loosening his tie. Watching him leave kicked up a storm of confusion in your mind.

“And I haven’t seen him since,” you conclude, leaning forward to put your head in your hands.

The gentle hand on your back surprises you but you don’t shy away from the comfort. “It’s gonna be okay, babydoll. We all go through stuff, sounds like his stuff is a little heavy right now.”

“Then why isn’t he asking me to help?”

That’s the question still on your mind when you get home from work that night and make a call to Steve and Bucky’s apartment.

“Sorry ma’am, no one’s answering at the residence,” the operator drones in your ear. “Is there another number you’d like me to call?”

“No, thank you.” You stare at the telephone as if it had personally offended you, eyebrows knit closely together, arms crossed.

Somewhere in the space of the last three weeks you had messed up, done something to send Bucky running for the hills. You wrack your brain for an explanation, an event or conversation that was even the slightest bit terse. Coming up empty you sigh and force yourself to continue about your evening.

One day passes with no word from Bucky.

Another day goes by silently.

At the end of the third day you find yourself staring at the phone again, debating your next move.

A girl was allowed to call her boyfriend, right? Especially after not having seen each other in a while, at least to say hi and catch up on the day - and he said he was sick, surely it was alright, even expected to check on him. You reach for the handset.

Then again, he’d clearly been sending signals that something wasn’t right, perhaps you should just leave it alone. You snatch your hand back to yourself, drawing it up to pick at your lip nervously.

But Steve, on the other hand. . .

Shockingly, the line connects.

“Hullo?”

“Steve? It’s me.”

“Hey,” Steve’s voice warms, “you wanna talk to Buck?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you.”

“Oh, okay. What’s going on?”

You twist a finger around the phone cord, digging for the right words. “Is Bucky okay?”

“‘Okay’?” you can practically see his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“I’m not sure why, but he’s been distant over the last few weeks. I don’t know if it’s me or what, but is he safe? Is he okay?”

“He’s, uh. . .” Steve lowers his voice. “He’s been better. Seems to be having a tough time. I thought you knew that, though.”

“No, I haven’t seen him for two weeks.”

“Really?” Clearly as shocked as you were, his tone turns suspicious. “He’s been avoiding me too. In passing he mentioned that his classes have been giving him some trouble, but I figured he’d seek you out with help on that.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Me too.”

“Huh. Thanks for letting me know, lemme see what I can do from my end. I’ll keep you posted.”

“Thank you, Steve. That makes me feel better.”

“Of course. Take care of yourself, okay?”

With a smile you bid him goodbye and hang up, hoping he could make some headway.

-x-

Bucky hears Steve hang up the phone and hopes to God he’s not in for a well-meaning chit-chat.

But of course, a knock comes on Bucky’s cracked-open door, and he can’t really deny Steve entrance. Turning back to the pile of classwork on his desk, Bucky busies himself with a half-finished essay. His friend perches against the dresser, ankles and arms crossed.

Bucky scratches absentmindedly at some stubble on his cheek before grunting, “Whaddya want, Steve?”

“Your girl just called. Said she hasn’t heard from you. She’s worried.”

“Been busy.”

“That’s bullshit.” The pencil in Bucky’s hand snaps in two and he forces himself to let go of the pieces and keep his hands flexed open. “What happened, Buck?”

The aftermath of the nightmare - the first that had plagued him in several months - comes back to Bucky. He’d woken in a cold sweat, hands shaking violently, head pounding. Banging out of his room he’d sprinted for the bathroom faucet, dousing his face in ice cold water to shock his senses back to him. Light sleeper that he was, Steve was there in seconds. Bucky had snapped at him when asked what was wrong, had told him to leave him be. He should’ve known Steve wouldn’t leave it for long.

With effort, Bucky spits out, “The day we took Fischer down.” Any additional detail would have been Bucky’s undoing; he knew Steve could connect the dots.

The blond brings up a hand to cover his mouth, heaving a deep breath. “Yeah, that one’s given me nightmares too.”

“Does it? You don’t show it.”

“We’ve pretended not to hear each others’ nightmares for a long time, pal, no use continuing that charade.”

Silence stretches between them for several minutes. Bucky stewing, Steve waiting.

“Why was it them and not us, Steve?”

Steve knew ‘them’ wasn’t just the girl at the church, wasn’t attached to a singular person or event - ‘them’ stood for every life lost in the war that had stripped the world bare of too many things to count.

“I wish I could tell you.”

Clearing the emotion from his throat, Bucky’s next question surprises Steve. “How do you not let it eat you up?”

Shaking his head, Steve replies, “Some days it does. You know I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but I try to talk about it. With you, with Peg, sometimes one of the other guys. If you let it stay in your head, it only grows bigger.”

“I don’t know if I can do that right now.”

“That’s okay. And it doesn’t have to be me you talk to if you don’t want. But do me a favor?”

Bucky finally shifts in his chair to look Steve directly in the eye, lifting a brow as if to ask “And what would that favor be?”

“Don’t shut her out. You know you can’t scare her away. Obviously she wants to be part of your life, so let her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

As messed up as I am, is it fair to her to drag her down with me?

-x-

Bucky was grateful for the quiet apartment - Steve was away on business, his classwork was in a lull, and the day’s work had drained him. All he wanted was to eat and fall into bed. The thought of skipping another meal tempted him as he dreamed of what could possibly be a restful night of sleep.

Soft knocks at the front door startle him away from his bedroom. Slowly, he steps to the door in socked feet. Pressing an eye to the peephole, his heart drops into his stomach and threatens to pound right out of his body. You’re waiting on the other side, fiddling with something in your hands.

You look nervous.

“Bucky?” How could a voice feel like home but also make him dizzy with anxiety? Letting his forehead rest against the door, he realizes how much he’s missed the sound.

He can feel the second rap of knuckles reverberate through his head. Your voice wraps around him again.

Open the door, Barnes. She’s right there. You need her.

Shame whispers, “But does she need you as a burden? Does she need this broken man in her life?”

A voice that sounded like Steve urges him to open the door, to let himself be vulnerable.

The doorknob tenses under his grip.

But he doesn’t move. He can’t.

“I don’t know if you’re even home right now, but uh. . .” he hears you sniffle, prompting his eye to focus again on the peephole. You wipe at your cheek - Bucky convinces himself it couldn’t be because of him. “I got something for ya. You mentioned in one of your letters that writing things down cleared your mind, helped you move past things. And while I don’t really know if you’re going through something or just want to be alone for whatever reason. . . I just hope this helps.”

You stoop down, setting whatever you’d been holding against the door. Straightening, you turn to leave, pause, then face the door again. “I miss you, ya know.”

Hesitant footsteps retreat down the breezeway, your tread easy and familiar in his mind.

Only after counting out a few minutes Bucky cracks the door open. A small packages falls to his feet with a surprisingly solid thud. He nudges the door closed and pulls at the twine, then the brown paper wrapping.

Shaky fingers feel at the strong, yet simple leather cover of a journal. He flips through the unlined pages, mind reeling at your memory of something he couldn’t recall mentioning to you. Forcing air into his lungs he cradles the book as if it were a priceless artifact; maybe for him it was.

Opening to the first page his eyes are immediately drawn to black ink, to your familiar handwriting.

Whether it’s with me or without me, I hope you find peace.

You’d left your initials beneath the note, as if he ever would have questioned whose hand had written the inscription. He lets out a humorless laugh before his knees weaken. Letting himself be taken to the floor, he leans against the door, clutching the journal to his chest.

And on the floor of his empty apartment where he wept the full anguish of his soul, it was a lifeline.

-x-

This was a bad idea. I should go home. This is stupid.

Bucky’s foot taps against the sidewalk outside of your work building impatiently. He’d been there a few minutes already, knowing your schedule like the back of his hand. A deep urge to finally speak with you had brought him this far, though he was fighting the pull to run back home.

Just as he had convinced himself to turn around, you emerge from the front door and he’s frozen in place.

The notion of home floats through his mind as he watches you, hair only slightly rumpled from your day of work. Poised, graceful as ever, a true striking presence on the sidewalk - earning more turned heads than you would ever be aware of.

So focused on making sure your hat was perfectly in place, you don’t notice Bucky until he’s right next to you.

“Hi,” his mind goes blank as he stares into your eyes, wide as dinner plates at his sudden appearance.

“Bucky. . . uh, hi,” you stammer. “Wh-what’re you-”

“Can I walk you home?”

“Y-yeah, absolutely.”

Together, you traverse the deeply familiar path home, though a pace apart.

“How’s the family?” you ask, reaching for an innocuous subject to fill the dead air.

“Uh, good. I’ve missed the last few Sunday dinners, but I assume everything is fine.”

“Oh.”

“Are you - you doing alright?”

“I’m . . . okay. Been a long few weeks.”

He watches the ground as you walk, the click of your heels on pavement bringing sweeter memories to the forefront of his mind. But then the rhythmic sound stops and he looks up, shocked to see your apartment. You’ve turned to face him and his eyes are drawn to how you’re picking at your cuticles.

“Can we sit?” you motion to the brick steps leading up to your door. He nods and you perch on the stairs, closer to each other than you’d been for weeks. “Bucky. . .”

“Yeah?”

“I. . .” you turn your eyes back to your fiddling fingers in your lap. “I just need to know if this,” you gesture between you, “is over so I can not think of you as mine anymore. If it is, I can handle it and move on.”

Bucky’s mouth hangs open, at a loss for words. You take that as a cue to continue.

“But if this isn’t over. . . you don’t have to meet my parents next month, if that freaked you out. Or if I came on too strong when you got back from Pennsylvania, I can back off. Just. . .” your eyes finally move to meet his and the uncertainty in them was foreign to him, “tell me what I did wrong so I don’t do it again?”

His mind reels as he sits back to take a long look at you. You were serious. You genuinely thought this was a result of something you’d done - but why would you think any differently?

You don’t know how not seeing you left an aching hole in his chest. You don’t know how often he thought of you, how many times he’d frozen when the operator had asked who he’d wanted to be connected to only to hang up. You don’t know about the wad of cash in his sock drawer for which he had sparkling ambitions. Without knowing that, what other conclusion were you supposed to draw?

“I’m such an ass,” he mutters aloud, much to your furthered confusion. After dragging hands harshly down his face he threads his fingers in yours. “Sweetheart, this hasn’t been about you, not in the slightest.”

“Then what is it about? If it wasn’t something I did, what happened?” Your grip on his hands almost breaks his heart completely - like you were scared he’d bolt if you let go.

Words stick in his throat and he swallows in an attempt to dislodge the lump that had formed there.

“Buck, it’s me. You can say it.”

“I. . . I don’t even know where I’d start.”

“The beginning?” you gently suggest.

At your urging, he begins haltingly, stumbling over words, hoping he was making some kind of sense. “Uhhh. The night after we spent the day at the garage together. I had a nightmare, a memory of being in Europe. A young woman died - she died because of me. It felt like I was there again. I could feel the cold air and the smell of. . . I relived it that night. The days seemed to get worse after that.”

Details begin to spill from his lips - slowly, then all at once. Things he couldn’t have recalled if asked suddenly were toppling into your lap, unorganized, bloody, and heavy. He recounts the sleepless nights, the images seared in his brain from the battlefront, the components of war rarely shared with civilians that had taken a good portion of his innocence and good conscience.

Pausing, he clears his throat and scratches his chin. “It’s hard to talk about,” he admits in a low voice.

You’ve been silent, but present until this moment. “I know. Thank you for sharing with me.”

“The last few weeks have been a fight between wanting - no, needing - you to bring some light into my life; and living in fear that my darkness may snuff your own light out. I can’t take you down with me, you don’t deserve that.”

“Don’t I get a say in it?”

Tears prick at the corners of his eyes and he withdraws a hand from yours to dash at them. “I hate this,” he sniffles. “I thought I was getting better, that this was behind me. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what, being human?”

“For being like this when my life has gotten better. I’ve been home for so long, I should be past this by now.”

Your hands are on his cheeks, tilting his head to look into your eyes again. “Says who? Honey, things like this, it’s not a simple trip from point A to point B. This kind of healing takes time. And a backslide isn’t an indicator of failure.”

“Sure feels like I failed at something.”

“But you haven’t,” you insist firmly. He doesn’t respond and you pull your hands away, hesitantly grasping his again. “Why haven’t you been home to see your family?” you ask after a few moments of reflection.

“The girl I . . . that. . . she reminds me of my sisters. It’s hard to look at them and not see her after. . . it happened. I don’t want to attach that memory to them more than it already is.”

Your chest heaves with a long breath as if you were preparing to dive into deep water. “Your time serving, the things you saw. . . they affected you. You have to admit that.”

“It bothers me, sure, but I didn’t come back wounded. I made it in one piece, I don’t have a reason for being this shaken by it.”

“Just because you’re physically safe doesn’t mean your mind didn’t take on injuries. You’ve been through so much-”

Brusquely, he cuts you off. “My mind is fine. I’m not a coward.”

“Bucky, I know that. Everyone knows that. This isn’t about cowardice or weak minds, or whatever nonsense doctors and generals say it is. To survive what you have, to have made so much progress to get to a place where you’re working and taking care of yourself. . . it’s the strongest thing I’ve ever seen. You’ve chosen a career path. You’re almost done with the training while juggling two jobs, family, and a demanding girlfriend.” Both his lips and yours twitch at your teasing. Then you soften again. “You know I’ve seen this up-close with my uncle. You’re not alone and you’re not crazy.”

Bucky’s face must have mirrored the doubt he felt inside.

“You said Steve has episodes too right?” He nods. “Do you think that he has a weak moral character? This man, who you think the world of - do you consider him mentally fragile? No,” you answer for him as he can only shake his head. “Then why would you flip that onto yourself? Why would Steve’s hand-picked second-in-command be considered weak? You wouldn’t because you’re not.”

He couldn’t think of an argument against that - but you took his silence to be dubious.

Your voice is hesitant, unsure. “They do have psychiatric hospitals-”

“I’m not desperate enough for that.” The second the words left his mouth he hears how harsh they sound.

“Do you have to be desperate to ask for help?”

“I shouldn’t need help!” he exclaims suddenly. “Other men came back fine, Dad never went through this. I don’t know how to be this way without feeling like shit about myself. Besides, from the stories I’ve heard, what they do is more similar to torture than treatment.”

You’ve shrunken back, shoulders hunched forward as if to ward off his tone. “Okay. I won’t mention it again. I’m sorry.”

“No,” he huffs in frustration. “I should be the one that’s sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve been to hell and back which would make anyone’s soul weary. Please be kinder to yourself.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness, let alone my own. But for some reason, Sixth Floor, you’re giving it to me in spades. I don’t understand.”

“Caring for someone doesn’t always entail what they deserve - but I assure you, you are absolutely deserving of all the patience and gentleness. You are one of the most noble men I’ve ever known.” If the conviction in your voice hadn’t rung so clear, he’d think you were full of it.

“How can you still say that after how I’ve treated you?” He doesn’t give you the chance to respond. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to lose you baby, I just, I lo. . . I love you too much. And the thought of having pushed you away makes me sick, but I won’t blame you for walking away because of how I’ve acted.”

A sad smile crosses your face as you press your forehead to his before whispering fiercely, “Love isn’t a feeling, it’s an action. I love you to the very bottom of my heart, James. Can you let me love you? Let me show you? I want to be here, if you’ll have me.”

With most of his energy channeled containing sobs, he offers a nod. Leaning in to each other, your lips unite for the first time in too long - earnest, sweet love mingled with relief pours between you.

Pulling back only slightly, Bucky’s blue eyes search your own. “I missed you,” he murmurs roughly as his thumb wipes away a tear from your chin.

“I missed you, too,” you return as the pads of your fingers swipe against his wet cheeks.

He lets that settle on his bones for future nights where he may hear whispers of doubt about you and your devotion.

“I wanna get better for you, darling.” He meant it sweet, touching, but you shake your head.

“No.”

He begins to shift away from you, your previous words with the solitary one dissonating, but a hand to the back of his neck holds him fast.

“Don’t get better for me. James Buchanan Barnes is worthy enough to get better for himself.” You interrupt what was obviously going to be a protest from him. “You’re the one that has to live with yourself. I don’t plan on going anywhere, but I also can’t fight this battle for you, as much as I wish I could.”

“I don’t know what getting better for myself even looks like.”

Your eyebrows settle into determination, a directness in your gaze. “Your training is almost done. Quit washing windows, focus on finishing well. Life is about to change for the better. Refocus, take a breather. And let the people in your life love you.”

“I. . . I’ll try.”

“That’s all I can ask. Except. . .” You bite your lip, as if pondering whether you should continue.

“What?” he prompts.

A twinkle returns to your eye and you lean in even closer, “You could shave the beard before you meet my parents or they’ll think I’m dating a hobo.”

For the first time in weeks, a laugh bubbles up through Bucky and out into the world with joy that was anything but hollow.

Chapter Sixteen

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caroline18mars · 4 years

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A Man On Fire - Chapter 76

“So..where to? Hotel? I’ve booked us a couple of rooms, but if you want to go back to your place, that’s fine too” Jared put his arm around her as they waved goodbye to Arno going back to his hotel after dinner, “no, that hotel is fine, somehow I don’t feel like going back home right now..” she took his hand “is it far, because I kinda feel like walking? You know, clear my head, and cuddle up close walking next to you”. He could have sworn that his heart had just exploded in his chest , why did he order two rooms? he needed to feel her, preferably underneath him..no, he was gonna be a gentleman about this, she would set the pace not the other way round, she had gone through some heavy stuff the last couple of days, flown from NY to LA and back again, see her father finally, her brother trying to reconnect, oh no, she was definitely gonna set the pace, she’ll thank you later for it. An hour and a subway ride later, it had really been too far to walk the whole distance, they walked inside the hotel where Jared picked up their keycards, handing her the one of her own room once they were in the elevator, she wasn’t ready to sleep with him yet but then again she wasn’t ready to be alone tonight either, she just wanted peace and quiet, oh why did he have to pick two rooms in the first place?, shhh, shut up Harper, at least he’s being a real gentleman about this, he’s been nothing but supportive towards you and given you all the space you want. “So, you tired or do you wanna come in for a late night drink or something?” he smiled, feeling a little awkward, “I won’t be able to sleep so yeah I’ll come in with you for a while” she stood on her tiptoes and let her lips graze against his, his body deprived for too long of her touch reacted instantly “alright” he pulled away from her and quickly opened the door and walked in, his back turned to her at all time. Why was he so quick to walk away? she’d expected him to kiss the living daylights out of her instead of checking his phone, “you ok?” she closed the distance between them, “what? Yeah sure, don’t worry about me, I’m the one who is worrying about you” he looked over his shoulder while he poured them a drink. “I mean, listening to Arno and you..it was like you two were talking in code at times” Jared handed her a glass, “code? What do you mean? We didn’t even..I even made absolutely sure not to talk Italian” she was completely lost, looking surprised and shocked about his statement.

“No, I know, but you might have well talked Italian..the ‘abuse’ subject and the way you surf so smoothly around it just breaks my heart” oucchhh, the minute the words left his mouth, he knew he had overstept his boundaries and it was clear in her reaction that he had, “excuse me? Surf smoothly? Really? This is exactly the reason I never go into details about it, nevermind, I’m tired, I’m going to bed” stay calm, Harper, you both had a rough 24 hours, you don’t want to start a fight right now, she tried to calm herself down but was almost unable to. “No, Harper, please, stay! That came out all wrong, I’m sorry” before she could grab her bag, he had already stopped her from going anywhere, “I don’t want to talk about it, Jared” she looked up at him with those big, adorable brown eyes, “I know this is hard for you, but you know you can talk to me about it, just..talk to me”. Harper hesitated, in no way was she ready to talk about this, but had she been ready to talk about it with Arno? No! but she did, and yes in a certain kind of code..or at least that's what it probably sounded and seemed like to him. “Ok, fine” she straightened her back like she was getting ready for battle, the fire in her eyes blazing now, “let’s just sit down, alright?” Jared guided her towards the super comfy couch. Ok, now that he had her attention, how the hell did you start a conversation about such a touchy subject? “what do you want to know?” she pulled her legs underneath her, nervously sipping her drink, “Come here” he leaned over to her, cupped her chin and plucked a kiss from her lips, “that’s better” he smiled, which immediately calmed her down as well. Jared cuddled up to her, putting his arm around her to make absolutely sure she felt safe and loved, he didn’t ask questions, he just let her fill in the gaps herself.

“I’ve never really discussed this with anyone” she sighed, “I know, most of us know about the abuse, but nobody knows the details of it” Jared pulled her closer against him, “not that you owe anyone an explanation or anything, I just thought you might want to get some of it off your chest, make you feel a bit better, you know”. Harper slowly sipped her drink for courage “I know and I appreciate it..I don’t know where to start” it was so difficult to start explaining because she honestly didn’t know where to begin, instead Jared fired the first shot, “he didn’t..I mean he didn’t hurt you..well you know..he didn’t sexually abuse you, did he?” Jared somehow felt his stomach drop now that the word was spoken. “What? NO! oh no no no, god no” she was shocked to hear him say it but at the same time she understood that that subject was on his mind as she probably had thrown up a lot of fog around the subject in the past by not speaking about it, “no, he never touched me in that way, my Dad may be a lot of things but not a sexual predator, that’s for sure” she immediately saw a weight lifting off his shoulders. “He just loved to punish me, and not just for things I did or did not do, I was just a punching bag for his frustrations” she shrugged, “and it was just you? He totally singled you out?” his heart was breaking but he was glad she was talking at least, “yup! After he first raised his hand at me, everything changed, my personality changed and after a while it became my new ‘normal’, my brothers and sisters always made fun of me for being the one who never said anything at the dinner table for example or for not wanting to play outside with them..my happiest moments were when he was gone on business trip and my mother usually joined him after a week or so, but then he had to come back again..”

Jared felt her shiver just talking about it. “I just don’t get it why anyone would raise his hand to his own child, I just don’t get it..but so Arno knows now..” Jared felt an anger rise up he had rarely felt, but it was key to ignore it, none of that would help her along anyway, “it’s weird, I mean, I always thought he had known for years, he never approached or talked to me about it, never had any questions, he was old enough at the time to know better..I guess that’s difficult to forget, I’ll see him tomorrow though, we agreed to meet at the gallery, he wanted to see my work and we’ll go grab a coffee, and talk some more, so..”. Jared sat up a bit, “oh..ok, so you have tomorrow all planned already..?” why was he suddenly feeling so left out?, maybe because she was only telling him now, which was so not her thing, “yes I do, but you can come too, in fact I’ll need you there, for support, you know” . Jared gave her a faint smile and a nod, “oh come on now, don’t sulk..you know what? I’m completely done with this entire topic” she turned in his arms and kissed him, her mouth drifting from his mouth to his ear down to his throat, oh yes, he definitely like the way this was going, uh-uh, but then..his phone rang through their make-out session.

“Take it”, she let go of him and got up to get another drink and just like that the moment was gone and a veil of sorrow covered her again, “oh no..it’s Steph” he hung his head in defeat, not exactly the name she wanted to hear, but hey at least he was honest about it. By the time he got back inside the room he found her curled up into a little ball on the end of the bed, even the way she slept was mesmerizing, and he was so relieved that she hadn’t given up on him and gone back to her own room, ever so gently he picked her up so she wouldn’t wake up and put her on the right side of the bed, pulling the duvet over her. He quickly dropped his clothes and slid in next to her, it felt so good to be beside her again, the warmth of her body, her long beautiful hair spread out like a halo all over the pillow, it instantly made him forget about the nasty conversation he just had with Steph, no, she wasn’t important, never was, the most precious and most important person was lying here next to him.

Harper flew up in bed waking up from a haunting nightmare, where was she? What? Who? Jared..oh god, yes the hotel, it was just a dream..”What is it? You ok? Bad dream?” Jared who had been roused from his slumber because of her bloodcurdling scream shuffled over to her pulling her against his chest, “hey shhhhh, it's ok, I'm here, it's ok” he comforted her. “What..was that?” she looked around her again, still rattled, “I need to call Arno..”, Jared shuffled even closer “call your brother? But it's the middle of night” he had no idea what was going on. When she grabbed her phone, she saw he was right, it was the middle of the night, and Arno didn't call her..maybe things were alright after all, “oh Jay, it was horrible, my Dad had died and my mother was there and she was..” she took a deep breath and shook her head, there was absolutely no need to relive it “doesn't matter..Arno would have called right?”. Jared kissed her hair “I'm sure he would have” which reassured her until she realized “just for your information, this was not where I was planning on staying..why am I in my underwear?” she looked at her state of undress. “You kidding? As if I would carry this sleeping beauty in my bed all the way back to her own room? Believe me, my back is really grateful even if you're as light as a feather!” he grinned, plucking a kiss from her lips “and yes I undressed you, nothing I haven't done before right?”. She leaned into the kiss and deepened it before she slowly pulled back and breathed “and I loved every second of every time you did” she could tell he was trying to be a good boy about this, respecting the boundaries that had been put in place by her, but those days were gone, she needed him and from as far as she could tell, he needed her too. Harper took his hand and lifted it up to her shoulder, making sure he couldn't do anything else than hook a finger under her bra strap “babe..I don't know..” his voice was raspy and unstable, he knew what she wanted but was it for all the right reasons? If they did this then there was no way back and what if she wanted to stop when it got too much after all? He didn't know, no, he was absolutely sure he wouldn't be able to stop. “Oh but I know..I'm absolutely sure..I want you, I need you” she breathed against his mouth again and sat up a bit so he had better access, and gave him the opportunity to push the strap down her shoulder. The touch of his hand on her naked skin was absolutely electrifying and finally he was pushed over the edge and he wasted no time to unclasp her bra, dropping it between them, and from then on everything happened so quick. He pushed her back on the mattress, his hungry mouth grazing over her already hard nipple. “I love you so much” he whispered, making sure her other nipple didn't feel left out, his hands were taking their time rediscovering her glorious body.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30secondstomars #30 Seconds To Mars #30 secondstomars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 76 #Harper Coco #Harper and Jared #caroline18mars

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wisepuma23 · 5 years

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My Bones Crushed to Dust

Roman takes a moment to reflect on his decision. Whether he regrets it or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that Thomas is happy. But is he really? Truly? He sacrificed his own happiness so Thomas could sit playing words with Friends as the Wedding March plays. Alone. Roman wants to scream but his throat is sealed with the threat of honor.

Warnings: Angst, Slight Violence, Spoilers to SvS (new video)

Notes: Oh my god I loved this new video so much and I NEED to write something for it or I’m going to literally die of excitement. AAAHHHHHH!!!! But I need to write some goddamn Roman ANGST if it kills me and this video had buckets of it. Taglist is below at the bottom!

Read on AO3

Roman fiddled with the empty Butterfingers wrapper, the noise loud in the common room. No one else was awake. He kept crinkling it and smoothing it out, over and over again. Something to do with his hands he supposed. Better than focusing on how tears stung at the edge of his eyes. The heavy weight in his chest. He did something good today but why did it feel so bad too?

And that smooth scaly smirk haunted him. All sharp teeth and oozing confidence, Deceit had one hell of an act. But was it? Roman tore a corner away from the yellow wrapping. Maybe Deceit didn’t have to walk the walk or talk the talk, he had more true confidence than the prince himself. His words, his posture, even his damn gloves moved like a spell.

Roman wiped at his eyes.

He wanted to help Deceit. A snake in the grass but one on his side. The callback for an important movie wouldn’t be in the Florida suburbs. Nay! It would be out in the city. Maybe even a few states away! An audition so crucially important for his hopes and dreams! But...he remembered the way Thomas pinched his eyebrows.

Crumpled in his witness stand like a man on death row.

Roman tore another piece and watched it flutter to the floor. The yellow wrapper held delicate as a flower in his hands. Ripped, broken, nothing. What did it matter? Logan wanted the healthier option, enchiladas. Not just that! But left only 0.5% for hopes and dreams on his so-called impeccable priority pie chart! Easily swept away to the wayside. Patton made it clear that when it came down to the wire, Thomas’ friends mattered.

More yellow foil drifted onto the soft carpet like petals. Drip. More tears dropped on the floor. He could hardly see his own empty hands. No more Butterfingers. The chocolate rotting in the trash. The wrapper torn to shreds. Roman covered his face with his hands as he shuddered. Cold tears dripped through his fingers as the dam opened. The maw of emptiness within opened wider like a wound.

He told them he’d be crushed if they didn’t get the callback.

“Roman?”

He flinched and swiped at his eyes, “Sorry, sorry, pretend you didn’t see anything.”

“Why would I? Dude, you’re crying,” Virgil sat next to him on the couch, “So what’s like...up? Okay you know I’m not good at this stuff, shut up.”

Roman took in a rattling wet breath, forcing himself to calm down, “It’s okay. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me, Hot Topic.”

“Boo lame,” Virgil shoved at his shoulder, “No I’m serious. What’s wrong?”

“It’s just-” Roman looked away, “You’ll judge me. Thomas and Patton already did and let me tell you that was no cake walk. Despite being the judger myself.”

Virgil sucked in air through his teeth, “Damn. You...you’re upset about Thomas’ sentence. Like really upset. Right?”

“I know you don’t want to go,” Roman said, head snapping over to him, “Neither does Thomas. Logan even wrote the damn thing on the calendar! The one time!” Roman clutched Virgil’s jacket like a life preserver, “The one fucking time we both agreed on something, Logan and I. And I had to go throw it away.”

Roman yanked Virgil closer, eyes blurry with tears and rage, “Because I care. I care so much about my honor, my valor, but where does it get me?” Virgil clutched his wrists in a desperate grip, “Nothing. We’re still here at the beginning. No callback for us.”

Virgil swallowed back a thick lump. The poor man looked more out of his depth than a mermaid in Kansas. Roman searched his dark eyes for answers. Hope, salvation, or even sympathy. The clouds of fear instead clouded his former enemy’s eyes. Oh, Virgil. Roman wanted to laugh at the bitter irony. Some protector of Thomas.

Virgil couldn’t save Thomas from himself.

“Roman, our friends matter more than our ambitions,” Virgil said, his voice thick with pity, “Logan might be right after all, you’re a Slytherin through and through. Which isn’t bad!” Roman whimpered, “They’re not evil. It’s just that...we’re an empathetic soul. I really don’t Thomas has the heart to turn down the wedding. And his friends would hate us!”

Roman’s mouth thinned, “Yeah, his heart made sure of that.”

“You gave Thomas the sentence himself, so what gives?”

“It doesn’t surprise me you’re on his side,” Roman said more acidic than he intended, “Three out of five sides agreed on this! But nooo! Patton had to-” He bit back his tongue at the icy drop in the room, “I’m just saying that you two are so wrapped up in each other that you don’t even notice us anymore! Your logic, your dreams, even our deceitful self-preservation!”

“Don’t talk about him!” Virgil snarled, shoving Roman’s grip back as he loomed.

“What?” Roman knew he had to stop talking himself into a hole, “Him? Deceit? What is he, your ex-boyfriend you still have feelings for?!”

SLAP!

Roman’s cheek stung. Shadows danced on the walls, the curtains pulled themselves closed. Shit. He cut off the hysterical laugh that threatened to bubble up. Anxiety. Long time no see. His shoulders shook with muffled sobs as the pain smarted. Idiot. Damn fool. He let his mouth run off again.

“I-I didn’t mean,” Virgil started to say, the shadows drawing back.

“No, you did,” Roman said, flinching back from Virgil’s outstretched hand, “Stop it. You won today. Now Thomas and I will have to sit there single and lonely. And probably cry ourselves to sleep later.”

“He won’t--”

“Virgil, you’re his fears, stop lying,” Roman clutched his cheek as he stood up, “I’m going to bed. Sorry, too…” He walked up the stairs then paused to look at Virgil, “Tell Patton congrats on winning his case, he tried his best.”

He closed his bedroom door behind him.

True to his promise, Thomas cried himself to sleep.

taglist:

@poisonedapples @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @milomeepit , @k9cat , @my-happy-little-bean @thesocialbookwormishere @confinesofpersonalknowledge, @mariniacipher @finger-gunsss @peanut0303 @ilylogan @princeanxious @khadij-al-kubra @smokeyrutilequartz @pipapatton @ironwoman359 @celestial-firestorm @virge-of-a-breakdown @bunny222 @rosesisupposes @wildhorsewolf @sander-fander-sides @teacupfulofstarshine @ashrain5 @deafgirl-and-hercoven @moonfang03 @karmels-stuff @everythings-coming-up-aces @a-little-bit-of-ace @thekeytohappiness-is-you @larkiaquail @wundergirllovesyou @gemini-the-kitsune-rp @squishyturtle44 @alotofstupidstuff @pridefox @doing-my-demibest @coffee-fueled-art @tinashrader @pr0bablypr0crstinating @theunoriginaldaisy @fiive-second-cookies @anxiousangel121 @llamaavocado @divinedrabbles

#sanders sides #ts spoilers #sanders sides spoilers #roman sanders #sanders sides fic #myfics #MWHAHAHAHAHAHA #ROMAN ANGST #CHOO CHOO #its so late but i don't care #HERE #HAVE IT YOU ANGST GREMLINS

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ladyruina · 5 years

Text

First story on this site

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since promotion day and to be honest, I had no freaking clue what Promotion Day even was. Apparently once every month the facility selects someone to be “promoted”, the problem is that the people who don’t make the promotion selection get bare minimum notification. Turns out my sector was just informed that I was transferred to a new sector...no one even knew where I went ...explains what happened to Silica. Today, after three weeks, I woke up to a waiting room. Empty seats on every side and beneath my...tush. The same metal box I lived in for the past seventeen years after “recruitment” and would probably die in. The room had the same aesthetic as everywhere else in the facility, stainless steel walls and flooring with well lit bulbs. Couldn’t tell which type of lightbulb though I’d have to gamble fluorescent bulbs with UV integration, cheap, effective and keeps us alive for a little bit longer. Just how the facility likes it. As per my regular protocol when in an unfamiliar space without a commanding officer I entered a status I have titled, “eyes down, nose out of others business”. It’s embarrassing to say that it took a rough fifteen seconds before realizing that the marks of claws against the floor were EVERYWHERE. You adjust to this kind of thing in the facility, there’s always something clawing up the floors, crawling up the walls or eating your friends upper lobe… rest in peace Franklin. My mind defaulted to entity containment training, signs of anomalous activity identified, analyze the signs: three toed claws, they appear to be dexterous and agile similar to species of avians and raptors. Stage four determine if anomalous being has moved from the ar-, that’s when I finally looked up. Three seats down from me stood a humanoid figure, full combat armor with the exact raptorian legs and feet that produced the scratch marks but the entity was calm almost seemed like it was waiting, same as me save for a bit of an impatient air. It swiftly and repetitively tapped its talons against the ground. Naturally my first thought occurred. “Oh god, is promotion just code word for feeding me to an entity.” I scanned the room only to discover many more entities, some looked very similar to the raptorian entity, others were vastly different. Entities with helmets resembling felines moving from one individual to another, entities with creepy masks that were standing on the walls and ceilings to avoid the clutter on the ground, entities that had no eye holes but spikes at the back on the helmet that vaguely reminded me of bats. All were equipped with combat armor and....facility issue weaponry? Aside from that there were few other schmucks in the room that looked a lot like me, scared, panicked and confused. I looked over to the impatient one only to see it staring at me.

“Shit!” it said in a surprisingly human voice “I-uh, sorry about starin’. It’s always just so weird to see one of you in here.”

“One of...me?” I implored.

“Y’know, an unaugmented.” it gestured at all of me. “So… weird after you’ve gone through the process. So, y’know which one you’ll be?”

I hesitated. “What?”

“Y’know. Like a raptor, a bat, a cat. That sorta thing.” it seemed to be naming things off the top of its head. “I’m a raptor so you could learn the ropes with me if you end up a part of the pack.”

This fascinated me, I had never been allowed to examine or interview an entity that I had no knowledge of. So a part of me was excited despite realizing that at any moment this entity could unhinge it’s non apparent jaws and rip into my throat with it’s horrific unseen maw. Yet the pioneer sense of exploring the unknown just...overcame me.

“So what are raptors?” I asked.

“Well, you’re lookin at one.” it said in a smug tone. “We’re faster and more dexterous than the others. Only downside is that itchy to move sensation you get due to the energy boost they hook you up with and that these masks keep you alive.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Heh. yeah, that’s what I said. Apparently The Fixer said that our oxygen has been made “inefficient” by the pollution of the modern world so we’re hooked up with some sorta super oxygen. Apparently it’s the kinda stuff dinosaurs used to breath so that’s pretty badass.”

“And that helps?”

“Gives us the energy to bounce off walls, literally.”

“Fascinating… are the other entities safe to converse with?”

“Ent-? Oh, them? Yeah most of em are chill, might get an extreme one or two but they should be reasonable.”

“Right, thank you.”

“Eh, no prob dude.”

I stood up and began to wander over to one of the “bats” who was standing in a group of its own kin. I began to raise my hand to greet it as I approached, a quick “hey” to get it’s attention only to be interrupted.

“Yes?” it said in a high pitched tone, turning to face me before it even should have known I was on my way. Apparently my shock was apparent as it recoiled quickly. “Right, sorry. I forgot unaugmented wouldn’t know about that. I heard you coming, you’d be surprised how easily you are to hear coming.”

“Echolocation?”

“Indeed! Along with some other traits.” It said “I’m basically omniscient with these mods! I can tell you anything about this room without even looking at it.”

“Hm.” I smirked. “How about this? What color is my shirt?”

It stared at me for a second before giving a light punch. “Cheating asshole.”

“Just wanted to see if you’re capable of processing color.”

“You could’ve asked.”

the amusement faded from my expression as I began to realize that what I said was quite apparently a sore topic.

“Oh...sorry.”

“Whatever.”

I began to awkwardly leave the company of the bats before slumping back into my chair. A few minutes go by and I’m bored out of my goddamn mind. Wish they left me a phone to check, or a magazine to read or a pistol to shoot myself with. Between the embarrassment of my slip-up and the boredom I think the lead would be preferable.

“Excuse me.” said a familiar voice. “I couldn’t help but notice multiple strains in your face aligning with stress that may be caused by the process of transferring to a new region. Is it possible that I may alleviate some of your stress through a formal discussion?”

I looked up, it was goddamn impossible. I heard she was transferred and she just never responded to any message from then on, I thought she either ditched me or… the far more likely scenario, eviscerated or incinerated.

“Silica?” the name of my best friend. “Silica is that you?”

The entity looked confused. “Curious. You have information on my title but records state that you were only stationed here today.”

“Silica. It’s me.” I said in a shaken tone. “Devin.”

“Devin…” she stared at me blankly, moments passed by. “Ah yes. We used to be close friends, is this information correct?”

“Yes. so you’ve been here this whole time?”

“Affirmative, Devin.”

“What happened? Why didn’t you respond to any messages I sent?”

Another brief silence. “I just checked my message log, I received none of them under the name of “Devin” or any related pseudonym.”

“Really?” this was...a bit heartbreaking to say the very least. “You had to keep in touch with Evelyn! I remember the day you got Evelyn’s contact address and you were a goddamn mess. Head over heels! Please tell me you kept in touch.”

Another goddamn pause. “Oh yes, Evelyn. I suppose she was very nice and pretty wasn’t she?”

“What are you talking about?!” the other entity’s started staring at me. I was getting loud. “You sound like you don’t care! You goddamn loved her and now she’s an afterthought?!”

“Please calm yourself. You’re becoming exacerbated and it may draw negative connotations towards you in future conversations with the other people residing in this room.”

I began to look over, the entities around me seemed...concerned. “S-sorry. I’m just hurt is all. It feels like you don’t remember...anything from back at Mind’s Edge.”

“Oh! That I can answer! I don’t!” she said so simply. My heart goddamn sank into the Mariana Trench and she said it so easily.

“You..forgot?”

“Don’t take it personally. Cat units have an AI planted into their brain in order to give them in depth data banks of medical procedures as well as a list of information that may be useful. This unfortunately has to replace long term memories which our AI assistants must remind us of. This also can lead to stunted emotional development. Fortunately though the emotional stagnation only caused depression in earlier Cat units. It also allows us to be proper care takers without having to worry about emotional errors such as becoming overly attached to the patient in therapy settings or panicking in active combat treatment scenarios.”

“I...need some time to process all of this.”

“Acknowledged. Please contact me or another Cat unit if you require any further psychological or physiological aid.”

“Y-yeah, got it. You got it.” That’s probably what I said. Can’t remember if it was actually what I said or not, I was in a haze. Every entity in this room was...a person? My best friend had forgotten about me. The whole world around me just faded. My greatest fear though was...what came next. My thoughts were cut short by the distant sound of heavy claws scraping against the cold metal rang out. As it approached, I could hear the sound of cloth being dragged across the ground. A voice spoke, both high and low pitched with a sort of rattle in its tone.

“Routine Procedures completed. Additional Augmentation scheduled.”

The door on the farside of the room opened.

“Devin.” The creature spoke “Devin Hale. Augmentation scheduled. Follow for Augmentation.”

#original story #fiction #science fiction #transhumanism

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sp4c3-0ddity · 5 years

Note

Oh!! If youre still doing the au thing, neighbors plance au? Everything is still canon compliant but pidge and lance have known each other since they were in diapers (imagine The Angst when pidge disappears after Kerberos and reappears at the garrison and lance has to lie to hunk about “pidge gunderson”)

possibly not quite what you wanted and a bit more than five headcanons (a fic of nearly 3000 words…) but i hope you like it!! sorry it’s a bit of a mess

(also i made up some stuff about the Garrison and the timeline may be a little off)

“Whothe heck is Pidge Gunderson?”

Predictably Hunk shrugs, as baffled asLance is…thoughlikely not as disappointed. He hopedhis comm specialist would be any of the last five girls he had a crush on, andyet—

“Righthere.”

The familiar voice squeezes his chest andmakes it difficult to breathe for a second, but when he recovers - no way, it can’t be her- he spins on his heel to face his and Hunk’s new teammate.

But the round face and petite frame areunmistakable despite the uneven haircut and glasses. Lance doesn’tknow who Pidge Gunderson is, but it’s not the girlstanding before him.

Katie Holt.

***

Lance lay on his side glaring at theGarrison recruitment poster tacked to his wall, well-aware that he was sulkingbut unwilling to do anything about it. He deservedto sulk after Commander Iverson released their class ranking andclassification. Dreams shattered, hopes dashed, his future as a hero andprodigious heartthrob flushed down the toilet and piped all the way to thebottom of the Marianas Trench for the moray eels to make snacks of…

Score: 82.15Ranking: #11Pilot Class: Cargo

The kicker was that his score was a fraction of a point lower than thelowest ranked fighter pilot.

“Thinkof it this way!” Veronica had saidin that peppy voice she took on when he sulked.“You’re top of the cargoclass!”

“Bigwhoop,” Lance had grumbled. “Cargo pilots don’t go on explorationmissions like to Kerberos…”

No, missions like that would be reserved for Keith and James and all the rest at thetop of his year, while he’d be stuck at the bottom of a barreldelivering instant meals to colonies on the moon.

A sharp knock sounded from the door.

“Whatdo you want?” Lance called without turning around. “I’m doing homework!”

The door’s hinges creaked. “That’s a lie.”

He bolted upright, his heart, heavy withdisappointment, lightening when Katie peeked around the door. “Katie!What’re you doing here?” Lance wondered.

She walked in, shutting the door behind her(which his mother wouldn’t be too happy about for some reason…itwas just Katie, their neighborand his friend since forever) and perching on his desk chair. “Iheard from Veronica that you didn’t make fighter class,” she said, scuffing herbare feet against the carpet. “I’m sorry; I know how much you wanted it.”

Lance sat up and waved a hand. “It’snot a big deal,” he said without meeting her eyes. “I mean, at least I made something, right? And if someone in fighter classwashes out I’llbe the first one in line to replace them!”

Katie raised an eyebrow at him, theslightest smirk perking up her lips. “You know that almost never happens, right?”

He slumped, heart weighed down all overagain, and admitted, “Right, well, a guy can hope! Oryou can make it, shoot through the ranks, and change the rules so that the top eleven make fighter class?”He winked at her, oddly pleased when a hint of pink colored her cheeks.

But she rolled his eyes and retorted, “Itdoesn’t really work that way, Lance, and by then it’ll be too late for you.”

“Iknow, I know.” Lance leaned back against his headboard, hands behind his headand ankles folded in front of him. “You couldjust keep some other sorry rank eleven pilot cadet from suffering this samegrave injustice.”

Katie snorted. “You’reso dramatic, Lance.” The bed sank underneath him as she sat beside him andpulled her feet up. “I can tell you’re upset though.”

“Who?Me? Upset that I didn’t get the thing I wanted most in the whole dang universe?Obviously not!”

Katie shot him a flat, unimpressed frown. “Atleast you still get to fly,” she pointed out. “You did reasonably well inflight school, so it’s not like you’ll lack for missions later, even if they’renot glamourous.”

“Easyfor you to say,” Lance mumbled. He covered his face with his arm. “Your dad andbrother are on the mission of a century.”

“Neitherof them is a pilot,” Katie pointed out.

“I’mnot a multi-talented genius like you,” he said, peeking at her from under hisarm. “You can easily get in as a comm specialist or an engineer withoutfinishing school. You can probably get in as a pilot too if you did flightschool first!”

Katie shifted in place, looking suddenlyuncomfortable judging by how she glanced away, and Lance decided to drop thetopic.

“Whatabout you? Going to join me at the Garrison soon?” He grinned, quirking ateasing eyebrow. “Sure, you have to get through at least two years of highschool first, but that’s exciting too, right?”

Katie stuck her tongue out and said, “Please,if I have to suffer more than two years of incompetent teachers and meanclassmates I’ll steal a rocket from the Garrison and launch myself to Kerberoswithout a helmet.”

Lance laughed, but when Katie didn’tjoin in his eyes widened. “That bad?”

She shrugged but rested her chin on herknees, staring at the same spot on his wall that preoccupied him before shearrived. “It’snot a big deal,” she said. “I know there’s an end to it, so I can live with itfor now.”

“Don’tworry,” Lance said. He sat up and slid forward, feet touching the floor, torest a hand on her shoulder. “The Garrison’s better.”

“Easyfor you to say,” Katie said. “You make friends easily and aren’t super smart—”

“Iresent that!” he squawked, hand springing to his chest in offense.

“—soyou fit in.” She smiled apologetically and added, “Sorry, I meant that as anobservation, not an insult.”

“Iknow.” A grin pushed at his lips, and he flicked a strand of her long hair thatfell into her face, unsecured by her ponytail. “But lots of people are supersmart at the Garrison, so you’ll fit right in!”

Probably better than me, he thought with a twinge in his gut.Everyone at the Garrison was just so spectacular…

“Speakingof super smart people,” Lance said, “you heard anything from your dad andbrother lately?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively and added, “I know youtalk to them behind the Garrison’s back…”

Katie’s eyes widened in surprise. She grabbedthe front of his shirt, shocking himinto yelping and his heart - did her face have to be so close? - into racing, and said, “No one’s supposed to know about that!”

Lance raised his hands and stuttered, “Sorry!You’re just not careful around me!”

Katie frowned but let him go. “Don’ttell anyone,” she said.

“Hey,your secret is safe with me,” Lance promised. He straightened his shirt andsighed in relief. “So…is that a yes?”

Katie beamed, the expression radiant andwarming him. “Actually,they’re only a few days away from Kerberos…”

***

“Pidge”avoids Lance just like Katie did after the mission failure, but unlike thattime, when her red-eyed mother answered the door with an apology or the pebbleshe lobbed at her bedroom window went unacknowledged, the truth of it stares himin the face.

So he chooses to confront her.

When she opens the door to her dorm, hesticks his foot in the gap before she can slam it back in his face.

“Ow,”he hisses, the shock of it shooting through his foot and forcing a wince fromhim.

“Whatdo you want?” Katie - Pidge? Isn’t that the nickname her brother gave her? -demands. “I’m busy.”

He refuses to budge, despite his stomachdoing somersaults and his heart pounding an uneven rhythm against his ribs. “Ineed to talk to you.”

“Ihave nothing to say to you outside of class,” she retorts tartly.

His chest tightens, but he scowls andinsists, “You’veavoided me for the last few months, Pidge,so I think I at least deserve an explanation.”

Her eyes widen - no longer hidden behindthose big lenses - while a flicker of shame crosses her face before she sighsand opens the door. “Fine,” she says, waving him in. “Let’s make this quick; I havework to do.”

“Work?”Lance snorts, accepting her reluctant invitation. “It’s the second day of thesemester!”

“Ihave more important stuff to do than classwork, Lance,” she grumbles.

Before he can ask what she means, she slamsthe door shut with enough force to rattle the window.

Clothes and books and manuals litter herfloor, a sharp contrast from her relatively tidy childhood bedroom, but despitethe fact that she seems to have made herself quite at home, nothing gives awayanything…personal. No stuffed animals propped against apillow on the bed, no photos of her family pinned to the wall or sitting inframes on her cluttered desk, no stickers or posters or comic books lining thelittle free space on the shelves….

The sight of it makes his chest ache withsomething like regret.

She - really, what should Lance call her? - stands in the middle of the almost hiddenfloor with her arms crossed and her glower fixed at some point past him. “Sowhat do you want?”

“Totalk,” he says, the adrenaline that sustained him up to this point fading as hurt took over. “Why did you ghostme, Katie?”

“Don’tcall me that here,” she snaps, a hint of fear crossing her face so quickly hemight’ve imagined it.

So that answers one question…

“Allright, Pidge,” Lance says through gritted teeth, “whyhaven’t I seen you in months?”

“I’vebeen busy.”

“Busygetting into the Garrison under a fake name?” He mirrors her pose, adding aneyebrow raised in skepticism. “You’d get accepted here as yourself with youreyes closed.”

“I’mnot here for academicreasons,”Pidge says. “I’m here for—look, it doesn’t matter toyou! I’ll be out of your hair soon enough anyway.”

And as much as it pained Lance when sheignored him every time he tried - and failed- to visit her after her father and brother were declared dead, as much as it hurt for her to attempt to blow him offnow, he really didn’tlike the sound of that.

A frown pulls at his lips. “Whatdo you mean?” he wonders.

“I’m…tryingto switch to a different team,” she admits. And she even has the audacity tolook abashed, her eyebrows drawn together and herfingers wringing the hem of her uniform jacket.

But her admission doesn’thurt like it should, not when his chest burns with anger and he snaps, “I don’tknow what you’re up to - and I sure hope you’ll tell me! - but I would never expose you when you’reobviously in disguise.” He rolls his eyes, scowling at the floor, and mutters, “Icovered for you with Hunk already. He sensedsomething odd when I ‘met’ you.”

Of course he had, when the sight of Pidgeand her big brown eyes made his breath catch and his tongue stick to the roofof his mouth and left him speechless.

Really, all his primary school teachersthat bemoaned how talkative he was inclass should’veemployed Pidge disguised as a boy if they wanted him to keep quiet.

“Hedid?” Pidge’s jaw drops. “A-and it’s not that I think you’ll report me,” shecontinues after clearing her throat. “It’s that…I can’t risk being exposed fromsomething so trivial as I’m too friendlytowards someone I just met. Your sister would catch on in a—”

“I’msorry,” Lance interrupts, rolling his eyes, “but that’s the dumbest thing I’veever heard. And look, I knowyou’renot used to making friends”—he doesn’t miss her grimace at the reminder—”but lots of people are really friendly with peoplethey just met, so don’t give me that excuse.”

“I—”Pidge sighs, gaze drifting down to the floor between them. “I just…I don’tknow.”

Lance, suddenly exhausted with all thisincluding the months of her avoiding him, drops onto her bed. “Whyare you going to all this trouble anyway? Your dad works - I mean, worked - here, so can’tyou just…waltz in if you wanted?”

Pidge shakes her head and confesses, “Igot banned from the premises.”

His head snaps up in shock. “Wait,what?”

She sits heavily beside him. “IfI tell you…”

“You’llhave to kill me?” Lance suggests when she trails off, staring into space.

She smiles fleetingly, but he counts it avictory anyway. “No,but you can’t tell anyone else.”

He draws an X over his chest and says, “Crossmy heart. As long as I don’t have to die for this secret…”

“Youcan’t even tell Hunk,” Pidge insists with a glare.

He raises his hands. “I’malready way ahead of you in that…but it’ll get harder,” he says, rubbing theback of his neck sheepishly.

Her eyes flit from his face to the floorand back again. “Itwasn’t pilot error,” she almost whispers.

He leans closer, unsure he heard her right.“What?”

A familiar ferocity enters her eyes,sending a shiver up his spine, as she says, “The pilot didn’t crash and my father andbrother aren’t dead. Something tookthem.”

Lance gapes at her. “Areyou…really? How do you know?”

“ClassifiedGarrison footage I wasn’t supposed to find,” she tells him shortly. “They’relying about what happened.”

“W-whatcould’ve taken them?” he wonders while dread ties his stomach into knots. Buthe forces a laugh and feebly jokes, “N-not aliens, right?” When Pidge doesn’treply, his jaw drops. “Pidge, what did you see?”

“Isaw enough to know there’s more to what the Garrison said publicly,” shepronounces, “but I’m here to find out as much as I can.”

“Anddo what?” Lance asks. “Expose the Garrison’s lie?”

“Maybe,”she says, frowning. “It…depends on what I find.”

“But,Pidge—”

And before he can wonder what she plans todo next, she cuts in, “I’msorry, Lance.”

At this rate, he’llhave a premature heart attack thanks to all the shocksshe’sdealt him.

“What?”

“Ishouldn’t have shut you out like that.” She pulls her feet onto the bed andhugs her knees. “I just didn’t know what to do after the mission failure, so Ithrew myself into investigating that rather than wasting time on other things.”

“Aw,thanks, Pidge,” he says, rolling his eyes despite the disappointment weighinghis heart down anew. “I’m glad that’s what I am to you.”

Her cheeks darken, and she waves her handfrantically to backtrack, “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Oh,really?” He raises a skeptical eyebrow. “You mean I wasn’t trying to waste your time?”

“Th-that’snot it at all, Lance,” she says. She rests her forehead against her knees so hecan’t see her face. “It’s just…it was too tempting to use your connection and I didn’twant you to get caught up in this mess after you applied for the spot thatopened up in fighter class so I kept it to myself.”

Lance frowns, convinced that, for all thetruth in the statement, she hides something else, but he can’thelp quipping, “How thoughtful of you, Pidge.”

But then—

“Wait,how did you know about the spot that opened up?” he wonders, instantlysuspicious. “That happened a while after you started avoiding me.”

Pidge’s shoulders stiffen. “I don’t remember,”she says. “I might’ve come across it while I was hacking into the Garrison’ssystems and assumed you’d try for it.”

Lance doesn’t call her out on her obvious lie, notwhen relief fills him that her silenceis finally at an end and…well, maybe they can’t resume theirfriendship as it was before the mission failure, but they won’t have to startfrom scratch.

“Howcan I help?”

Pidge’s head whips around, her eyes bulging inbefuddlement. “What?”

He shrugs, feigning nonchalance despite hisheart pounding and the voice in his head that reminds him he’salready on thin ice in the Garrison’s eyes, and waves a hand. “You know, withyour…investigation.”

“Um…”She blinks once, twice, three times before saying, “Pretend like we didn’t knoweach other before.”

His heart plummets anew at that. “Why?”

“Ialready explained,” she says. She jumps to her feet and faces him, arms thrownout and eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It’s bad enough yourecognized me, so what if someone else does too?”

“But—”he tries to protest, but Pidge plows right through him.

“There’s…nothingyou can help with, Lance,” she says with a heavy exhale.

“ButI’m your friend!” He stands, flailing his arms and gesturing around her messyroom. “I can at least watch your back while you do your sneaky spy stuff!”

“I…maybe,”she concedes grudgingly, “but right now the best lead I’ve got requires I be asinconspicuous as possible.”

“D-doesthis mean you’re still switching teams?” His breath sticks in his throatpainfully at the thought that they can repair their friendship only for it tofracture moments later.

He grew up with Pidge; she’sas dear to him as…well, not a sister, exactly, but the last few months withouther - undoubtedly while she hurtand stewed over her father’s and brother’s not-deaths alone exceptfor her mother - left him almost listless with how much he missed her.

Pidge’s brown eyes bore into his as she says, “No,I guess that’s not necessary.” A slight smile finds its way onto her face,reassuring and warmingLance as much as her words. “Knowing one of my teammates is reason enoughto stay.”

#plance #pidgance #lidge #flirtyrobot #aksj;fkj;fsdf i tried i dunno how i did #i wonder if i've lost my touch BUT oh well #how come i post two fics in one day??#WELL this is the only one i wrote today SO #voltron #reem writes fic #Anonymous #also don't want to post anything day of/right before season eight #because i know people will be preoccupied with that #qna

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