#I will get to build shelves. and put things in shelves. organise things. build our wardrobe (for the third time in three years)

[running-in-the-dark]

help I can't stop thinking about furniture. it's keeping me from thinking about the other way more important things I need to be thinking about (Jenkins, Dan Fielding, etc.)

[rorylane1201]

Oh Rory, yesterday you cut your first tooth and it felt like such a symbolic moment for how much you’re growing. Next thing we know you’ll have a mouth full of teeth!

You’re currently 4.5 months old (20 weeks) and the time has flown by. We’re settling into our roles as a family but we still have the odd bumpy day here and there. Your sleep isn’t great at the moment and you’ve been going through a really weird phase where you don’t want to be put down. It’s almost as if you’ve regressed to those early newborn days - which I will reflect on in further posts!

Today was an odd day, you went down for your first nap just fine but only stayed down for half an hour. 15mins of which I was holding you. I managed to get a shower inbetween you being put down and you waking again and then it was back to Mum duty! I felt slightly down today. I think the emptiness of maternity leave is starting to get to me. I fill my days with shopping at supermarkets, seeing Nanny and Grandad and trying to sort out our complete bomb site of a house. I am losing the battle on the house front however, as since the kitchen flooded there feels like no point in even attempting to make the house look nice.

Anyway, after a small cry to your Dad when your morning nap was a lot shorter than expected, I decided to work on your room, with you. I put you in the bouncer that Theodora and Samantha lent to us and put some music on. I wanted to clean out your cot which had just become a storage space. Use the shelves that Uncle Alex had put up for you the day before and organise your room. We had to do this in two shifts as you got a little bored halfway through and I needed to make lunch for your Dad and I.

After lunch, I went to Aldi in St Albans. Which is becoming quite a trend! I wanted to buy some healthy snacks and we needed a few other bits. You fell asleep on the way there and slept the entire way around Aldi. So I took the opportunity of you being asleep to pop to B&Q for my next house project - painting the front door. Now I need you to work with me on this one. I can’t really do the door unless you’re asleep! It’s a mini project building up to seeing whether or not I can paint the hall during your naps.

I then came home and we finished off your room. The evening was a little difficult as your Dad and I had lots to do. Dad cooked hunters chicken and potatoes and I tried to put you down in your cot for the first time ever. It did not go well at all. Your eyes were open the minute your little head hit the mattress and you were not happy about it. We’ll try again tomorrow.

[rhiannonsage]

Faye - Rule of Threes

For our last guest lecture, we were visited by two artists, Faye Hamblett-Jones from Rule of Threes and John Hoskins, PhD researcher based at the ERL. 

The Rule of Threes is an arts organisation based in Sefton, although the association doesn’t have a physical space, they reach their audience through partnerships with public spaces, allowing them to connect with the community. 

Faye explained her background in a degree in fine art, and is also a fellow art historian legend! After finishing her degree, she worked in a gallery space and then gained an internship through the Liverpool Biennial working at The Royal Standard. This kind of commercial practice, where artists make, then display their work, was what Faye was expecting. However, when she took the job at Rule of Threes, it opened her eyes to the different ways you can produce and display art, and the impact it can have on communities. 

One of the key aims of Faye’s social practice at the Rule of Threes is positively impacting the communities she works with, she explained how socially engaged practice can be used as a tool for change in community building and not just used to display in galleries. one of the problems with gallery spaces is that they cater to a very small portion of the population, there are lots of barriers that stop people from visiting, such as finance, feeling unwelcome or unfamiliar in the environment, as well as things like language barriers etc. These factors often stop the majority of the public from benefitting from art and art spaces. In Faye’s workshops, people can become more connected to the work as they are involved in the making process, creating a larger sense of ownership. Sometimes there isn’t even any art made, but people leave with a larger sense of community, which they may have otherwise felt isolated from. 

This Kind of social practice is at the core of Faye's work, she put a lot of emphasis throughout her talk on her passion for helping people and her community.

An example of Faye’s social projects is Moon in Venus, in which Rule of Threes worked with Venus Charity – and organisation dedicated to improving the life chances of women and families living in South Sefton and artist Jeanne Van Heeswijk – the ‘Moon in Venus’ proposed to reimagine the issue of debt. In 2022, the Moon in Venus project took over a vacant shop in the Strand Shopping Centre. Alongside practical support, they delivered a holistic programme focused on looking beyond debt and living well. 

The Rule of Threes also has a focus on sustainable arts practices, one of the places that rule of threes often works at is the library in Sefton where Faye organised a the ‘Kitchen table collective’ in which she invited community members to create ceramics that the library now uses as at chopping sessions (also one of Faye’s projects) and dinner services. One of the artists Faye works with made a cabinet for the ceramics out of old library shelves. Left over clay was also used to make handles for the cabinet. While being sustainable, as the ceramics are being reused and, I would imagine this kind of project would create a sense of pride for the people who were involved, getting to see their ceramics put to good use. this also links back to the sense of ownership that Faye finds really valuable in her programmes. 

Winnowing Phase is also a project based on sustainability, more specifically the climate crisis. Winnowing Phase was a community led research project into air quality in Bootle, working with the artist Gregory Herbert and Ivan Gee. This project involved looking at the air quality in Bootle. Locals were given air quality monitors to take on their daily travels and collect data. The data was realised through Augmented reality projections to allow the group to see the air quality particles enlarged, helping local people understand what the data meant.

This emphasis on having the community involved is something we see all throughout Faye’s work at Rule of Threes, it was really endearing to listen to an artist speak about how passionate they are in helping people through artwork, this is something that I don’t think is appreciated enough about art, especially when it is art displayed in art galleries. there is something really important about the way people interact with art when they can be involved in it, which sort of reminds of the benefits of art therapy, and in quite a lot of instances with Faye’s work, that is what it is, a form of therapy! 

Although Faye mentioned that she doesn't have a specific outlet in which she works from, I think this is a factor that has helped her to create good relationships with the communities she helps. I would think that being based in the library, which is such a communal place, helps Faye to build trust with her audience. However, Faye also explained how being so available to the public can have a negative effect as she finds the lines are often blurred between her role in her job and her personal life. People see her as a friend they can trust, and will sometimes share problems with Faye that she is not qualified to help with, I can see this as something that may risk Faye feeling burnt out in the future, always having to be in work mode.

This is a problem that I hadn't thought about before when it comes to working in social art practices, and as Faye said, it isn't for everyone! Faye went on to explain that although she does sometimes feel her boundaries can be pushed, the positives outweigh the negatives for her, reinforcing to us the passion she has for doing good in her community.

[deepinmummymatters]

Decluttering and Organising

Too much clutter in our homes can often make us feel overwhelmed and stressed; we may even feel too ashamed to invite people to visit. When you get your home organised, keeping it clean and tidy is much easier, especially when surfaces are empty and there is less on the floor to hoover around. We have put together a list of tips to help you take steps towards decluttering and organising your home:  Why should we declutter our homes?  With fewer items around the home, you can concentrate on other things, such as hobbies and activities. You no longer have to wade through piles of things built up over time; once you have made a start, you will feel less stressed.  Make a start  Find the right time to start, and try and choose a day when you don’t have too many interruptions. This means you can focus on one room at a time.  Manage your time  Put your focus on a room or an area within a room (for example, organising the wardrobe) at a time. You can focus on a small part of each room before moving on to the next one.  Keep or give away  Separate things into different piles, things you want to keep and things you will give away. The keep pile can be split into things you use often and things you want to store away. The pile of things you no longer want can be split into things you will throw away, things to go to charity shops and things you might like to try and sell.  What should I keep?  Try to be ruthless; if you have things in a cupboard and never use them, consider whether you will use them. Sometimes we all buy things on a whim, like a foot spa, for instance, it maybe gets used once or twice and then get put back in its box and left in a pile. Go through old magazines, paperwork, broken pens, and clothes you no longer wear.  Keep flat surfaces clear My family is guilty of coming home and dumping their belongings on the dining table or the kitchen work surface. This ends up looking untidy and attracting even more clutter. Try to put books away, file any paperwork in folders, and ensure that things like empty cups and plates are washed and put away. The quicker you find a home for new clutter that appears, the better chance of it not building up again.  Wall space  The more storage space available, the more things you can easily store in your house. In the kitchen, you can free up space in cupboards by storing pots, pans and spices on wall racks. You can also use shelves but try only to use them to show your favourite things such as photographs and a few nice candles.  Keeping on top of things  Let's face it, decluttering your home will not happen overnight. Try to make progress at a comfortable pace, one room area at a time, and you will get there. Try to set aside an hour in your day to ensure surfaces are clear and things are put away. You will soon be in a routine and be well on the way to having a more organised home.  Organising  Once you are decluttered, you can ensure you keep all your items organised. Whether this is in labelled boxes, storage in cupboards, or vacuum bags that can be stored underneath beds - your home life will start to feel way easier. Read the full article

[russellsppttemplates]

Many more to come (George Russell)

The shelves at Y/N's and George's flat were getting smaller for the amount of books and trophies that find themselves into their place

Note: english is not my first language. I added a little something, I hope it is okay!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

Tw: curse words, small mentions of smut

"What are we here for again?", your friend said as she pushed the shopping cart, "our shelves are getting full and we need some new ones. George has been squeezing his trophies in there at this point and they deserve a nice place", you explained as you looked at your phone, the code of the material you needed written in your notes app.

You and your friend had made an afternoon trip to IKEA after sharing lunch in town since you hadn't seen her in a bit and you also needed help with the things you were buying.

Looking down at your phone and the cart you had in front of you, you double checked you had gotten everything you needed before paying and somehow managing to fit everything in your car. Your friend had helped you carry the things to the flat before she bid you goodbye, leaving you to organise your work for the next couple of hours as you turned on the TV, catching the qualifying broadcast with ten minutes to spare.

You changed into your leggings and one of George's t-shirts, combing the hair away from your face as you got on with removing the books from their shelves as well as the trophies that George had collected over the years, cleaning them a bit before placing everything back in, your eyes travelling to the TV so you could see your boyfriend get in the first top 3. Later that night, George called you via facetime, "hello my love, congratulations on your grid position for tomorrow", you said as soon as the connection was settled, George appearing on your screen, his body sprawled on the white bed sheets as you admired how his eyes contrasted with his tanned skin and the colour of the bedding as he began to tell you about the day. "With all the grid penalties and the car, we kind of expected it but it's still good enough, the guys are feeling confident about tomorrow", he smiled "That just means everyone's doing a good job, that the car is heading where it is supposed to be, finally. How are you feeling about tomorrow?", you asked, snuggling further into the blanket you had draped around yourself, "I feel good about it, I know we have RedBull and Ferrari at it too but there seems to be some pace in the car", he said confidently, "You'll give it your best, I just know it", your proud smile could be seen from the stars even as you looked at George.

"Do you have any plans for when I'm back? I think I'm getting home just before dinner, and not going to lie, I really want to spend some time just the two of us", your boyfriend expressed and you thought it would be the perfect plan, "me too, I can actually think of a nice thing for us to do", you said as you looked to the pieces that you and George would hopefully be able to build into furniture before talking some more and then bidding eachother goodbye.

George had finished in third, and after a quick phonecall he was on his way back home to you, takeout already ordered to celebrate his race. You were putting the final things on the table when you heard the front door unlock, going to the corridor to see your tall boyfriend walking in and take his shoes off before discarding his bags next to the door, "Hello darling", he said as you made grabby hands at him as you approached him, landing on his chest as you enjoyed the feeling of being back in his arms, "I'm so proud of you, my love", you said as you looked up at him, puckering your lips so he could meet yours in a kiss halfway.

"So, what's this plan you have for us tonight?", George asked as he kept his arms around you while you guys made your way into the table on the living area of the place, "I ordered some food because I'm starving and I thought you'd be too, and if you're not too tired, we can build some new shelves for my books and your trophies", you tempted him, "the collection is growing and they deserve a nice place to be shown, not all cramped up in the unit there", you pointed to a spot that somehow was fitting four of his trophies, along with a few helmets that also deserved a worthier place to be. George chuckled before he placed another kiss on your forehead, "and how do you plan to build it? You're not suggesting we suddenly turn carpenters in a couple of hours, are you?", he teased before you headed to the room where you had kept the new boards, the one closest to your reach ending up covering your height and George online giggled further as he was only able to see your feet and hands, "So you're the board? I don't think your butt is flat in the slightest though darling, I don't think that's going to work", George teased before he grabbed the wooden board and set it back in the floor, his hands moving to your butt and giving it a squeeze, "When did you get all of these? You said you were going for lunch". Pulling his hand so you could go back to the table to eat, you sat down and started opening the boxes, "I needed help to get all of this from IKEA so she helped me after lunch", you explained as you both dug in.

The instructions were open in front of you, with you separating each time of screw in little plates to avoid mixing them up as you handed George what he asked, "No you can grab that bigger one and join those two while I do these", he said as you got to work before getting up so you could both lift it, "Careful with your fingers when we put it against the wall, darling", the driver reminded you, his worry ever so present as you finally got your furniture placed.

"Well done, Bob the builder has nothing on us", you said as you highfived your boyfriend, "Now, how many trophies do we have to put here?", you started counting the ones you set on the table before George came back from the bedroom with the new acquisition to his collection he retrieved from his bag, "Oh, this one is pretty", you said looking at it as you made a quick math about where and how you could fit everything. "Where is this one from?", you asked, not recognising it straight away, "that's from F2, it was the first one I won in there, even my grandma went to watch that one", he said as he grabbed the trophy and reminisced in the memory, "but I do know this one", you grabbed the first trophy he had won when you were dating, the day one of the core memories you had together. George had invited you to a race and, since his parents were not able to be there, you were alone in his garage and that was when you noticed what he meant when he said they were family too. How everyone had welcomed you and offered you everything they could, how they had given you a set of headphones and how you were able to talk to so many people from the team without feeling like you were the odd one and, to finish it off, how George had won that race. "It was also the day I realised you were it too", George said as he kissed your cheek, helping you arrange it in the shelf.

George volunteered to help with the books and his helmets as you grabbed his trophies, quickly reaching to a halt, "Darling, I can't reach the upper shelf, ai need your help please", you blushed at your admission as George finished putting the last stack of books in one of the lower shelves, "Come on, up", he said as he got up and patted your thigh, hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around his strong waist and you both finished your work. Admiring all of it, George noticed how you had left a bit of space empty, "Why don't we move those around that one? It looks weird with that emptiness there", he suggested, "George, at the speed you're going, quite literally, that space is going to be filled anytime soon, there's many more to come from where those came from", you smiled as you grabbed your boyfriend's neck, pulling his face to yours as a kiss developed to a few more, his hands going back to your hips as he caressed your skin under the t-shirt you were wearing. "You think so, hm?", he said cockily as he hoisted you up again, his hands grabbing your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom for some final celebrations.

[solarpunksoup]

Hey!! I’ve read your post about what we can do in terms of solarpunk and I would like to know how to organise a clothes closet in my school. I usually leave my old clothes (my weight changes often so I usually thrift, don’t worry, I try to build an oversized capsule wardrobe to buy less) in our apartment complex where anyone can take it (my friend took a printed copy of some painting and waits for me to move out so that I can take it) but I am inexperienced in terms of schools. I don’t know how it will work because our school is literal hell for mutual aid. For example, we have free lunches for students who are from families with 3+ children but many people don’t eat them and leave them. I almost had to physically fight to get some free untouched food but the cook took two plates and wouldn’t let me eat a piece. Pretty sure she dumps it in the trash. I hunt everyone with free food now but our school workers don’t allow anything free for students. One person put a box with many pads in the bathroom and they were gone in a day. Nobody refills it anymore. They are also against any direct action as they took off the posters I made about how the war is destructive. The school psychologist tried to tell the police when I hit a guy who had been bullying me for a year. Yeah, he wanted to call the police on ME. This all ended when this student was expelled for stealing vodka during a school trip to another country. My girlfriend’s classmates had to buy a kettle themselves even though every classroom has one. When we have holidays, we spend our money on decorations and do that instead of lessons. And of course, it is mandatory to participate. Any ideas on how to radicalise my school and not get in trouble? I live in Russia, if it helps

hey! i just saw this ask! sorry about that. thats a lot to unpack and super stressful, i totally get it. my school was the same way when i was in high school.

for the clothing closet, we had a dedicated room later on where it had actual shelves and whatnot, and people would donate clothes by trashbag full and volunteers (rare but when they did) would sort, fold and put them away. at the start, we just had a few of those rolling coat racks that we would put by the student center with clothes on it.

as for the pads, the best thing that i personally think you can do is keep stocking them if you can. this happened to me, and i wish i had kept at it and refilling it. if people are taking them, its because they have a need. nobody takes pads and tampons for no reason. i would refill it a few times and bring it up to the school. like here is what happened, so this is proof its needed. me personally, i hated asking the office ladies for tampons and pads, so i would avoid it at all costs, so these little bins were helpful. there were also times in my life where freely given sanitary items were what i had, so you could bring a point like that up to the school.

im sorry about the school lunch thing, that sounds awful. i dont have many tips for you there unfortunately. and with the police and the posters, i’m not really sure how to help you there. i’m not russian myself so i dont know much about the laws and civil rights of students, and i dont want to give you advice that could endanger you, but that is totally unfair and i dont agree with it. i’m really sorry you have to deal with that.

my best piece of advice is to keep up what youre doing. it sounds like you are definitely making a difference, even if its just stirring the pot to let them know you notice whats going on, and that people dont agree. personally, i would keep putting up posters, but i’d be careful not to be seen. i’d do what i could to keep stocking sanitary items, and i would try to involve more people in the less risky, less obviously radical parts of it, like asking people to help stock the closet and the sanitary items, and maybe a community garden. even seeing if theres a way the students could get involved in prepping the free food, or even just communal lunch, would be really awesome! it could be a way for them to find time in valuing and getting used to the idea of serving each other, which could warm them up to other ideas. maybe not the whole student body yet, but even just some kind volunteers who can be nice to assholes could make a huge difference.

best of luck to you, and all of my condolences to your situation. youre doing awesome and you are making a difference, even if it doesnt seem like a lot and even if its just getting noticed.

[lizamango]

Finding You (Bucky Barnes x Reader) 3/?

 A/N: Hey everyone, sorry this took so long!! This chapter was kinda hard to write, I felt like there wasn’t much that I could add but I did my best! I wanna get to Bucky as much as you all do! 😭😩

Summary: You’ve been one of SHIELD’s top spies for years but what happens when the organisation you’ve put your trust in crumbles and Captain America gives you a mission to help him find his best friend? The last thing you expected to happen was to fall in love with your assignment and become best friends with a witch.

Taglist ~ just comment if you wanna be added

@buckylokisimp​​, @white-wolf-buckaroo​​, @austynparksandpizza, @markandlexies​

Word Count: 2098

​Masterlist

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~

Warnings: none

Chapter Summary: You and Steve run from HYDRA

Chapter 3: TOMORROW ISN’T PROMISED TO ANYBODY

I enter a shopping mall where I buy a hoodie for myself and a jacket, glasses and a hat for Rogers using cash. I pass by JD sports and see some Supra Vaders I know the Captain will just love so I go in and grab a pair, and get a pair of Nike Dunk Sky His for myself. I leave and meet him where he waits, away from any crowds and we put on our simple yet effective disguises.

“First rule of going on the run, is don’t run. Walk,” I say, recalling my operations training.

“If I run in these shoes they’re gonna fall off.”

I smirk. “Sorry, thought you’d be bigger.”

Ignoring my innuendo, Steve huffs. “They’re ridiculous, why can’t I lace them up?”

“It’s a fashion statement.” I glance at a map as we pass by. “Apple store’s upstairs.” We ride the escalator and enter the store.

Finding an empty laptop, I get to work. “The drive has a Level 6 homing program so as soon as we boot up, SHIELD will know exactly where we are.”

“How much time will we have?” he asks, surveying the area not so subtly.

“About 9 minutes from…” I insert the drive. “now.” I enter the coding commands to unlock the intel but something inverts each one… now comes in my training from the Academy of Science and Technology. “Fury was right about that ship. Somebody’s trying to hide something.” As I look through the coding script my inputs are rewritten to counter the commands. “This drive is protected by some sort of AI.”

“Like Stark’s robot voice? Can you override it?”

I raise a brow as I type away. “The person who developed this is slightly smarter than me. Slightly. I’m gonna try running a tracer. This is a program that SHIELD developed to track hostile malware, so if we can’t read the file, maybe we can find out its origin.” The map tracks a location and pinpoints it as we are approached by a store employee.

“Can I help you guys with anything?”

I react quickly and give him my best charming smile. “Oh, no. My fiancé was just helping me with some honeymoon destinations,” I giggle, placing my hands on Rogers’ shoulders.

“Right,” he adds awkwardly. “We’re gettin’ married.”

“Congratulations! Where are you guys thinkin’ about goin’?”

I go back to the laptop and the state has been pinpointed.

“New Jersey,” the Captain reads aloud.

“Huh,” the employee lets out, surprised. “I have the exact same glasses,” he says after a pause.

“Wow, you two are practically twins,” I remark as I type away.

“Yeah, I wish!” he chuckles. “Specimen. Uh, if you guys need anything… I’ve been Aaron.”

“Thank you,” Rogers rushes out. “You said 9 minutes,” he checks his watch. “Come on.”

I shush him. “Relax… I’m working.” The screen reads Wheaton, New Jersey. “Done.” I look up at him and he has a frown on his face. “You know it?”

“I used to. Let’s go.” He pulls the hard drive out of the laptop and we walk out of the store. “Standard tac team. Two behind, two across,” he turns to face forward. “two comin’ straight at us. If they make us, I’ll engage, you hit the south escalator to the metro.”

As he speaks I roll my eyes, this guy was definitely not meant for the spy world. “Put your arm around me and laugh at something I said,” I say.

“What?” he sounds utterly confused.

“Do it.” I feel his arm rest on my shoulder and he gives the most awkward laugh I have ever heard come from a person. “See, Captain? No need to make such a scene.” We work our way to the escalator and I spot Rumlow on the escalator coming up. I turn to look up at Rogers. “Kiss me.”

“What?” he says again, flustered.

“Public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable.”

“Yes they do!” he whispers.

I put my hand to the back of his neck and push him towards me so our lips meet and I feel his hand fall on my waist. I open my eyes and pull away slowly after enough time has passed.

“You still uncomfortable?” I ask turning and walking down the escalator.

“That’s not exactly a word I would use,” he murmurs and quiets down as we get to the parking lot.

“We could get bus tickets to New Jersey, think I’ve got enough cash for the trip,” I suggest.

“Keep a look out,” he says approaching a truck as I frown but do as he says. In no time I hear the start of an engine and whirl to look at him. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he says smugly.

I get into the passenger’s side and he starts to drive to the Garden State.

“Can’t believe Captain America can steal cars…” I say striking up a conversation.

He chuckles. “Kind of a necessary skill when you’re fighting a World War and you’re in enemy territory.”

I hum and he glances at me. “And it’s not stealing if we give it back so get your feet off the dash.”

“Bossy,” I remark but do as he says. “I like that,”

There’s a pink tint to his cheeks and his jaw clenches but he doesn’t say anything.

“So I have a question for you…” I start with a raised brow. “But you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, although no answer is an answer in itself so-“

“Get to it, L/N,” he interrupts authoritatively.

“Was that your first kiss since 1945?” I smirk.

“That bad, huh?”

“I didn’t say that!” I laugh.

“Well it kinda sounds like that’s what you’re saying.”

“I was just… wondering if you’ve had practice… since going… into the ice,” for a super secret agent, that answer lacked finesse. “It’s just, I don’t know how you did it in 1945 but guys normally move their mouths for a long kiss like that,” I shrug.

“I don’t need practice.”

“Everyone needs practice.”

“It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m 95, not dead.”

“Oh?” I say, curiosity piqued. “Who’s been kissing Captain America then?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Someone special?”

He chuckles. “It might come as a surprise to you but it’s hard to find someone with shared life experience,” he says sarcastically.

“That’s okay, you just make stuff up.”

“What, like you?” I know he doesn’t intend for it to sound mean so I shrug it off.

“Not everyone can handle the truth, can they? I wouldn’t mind a few white lies to keep something good going… and you don’t need shared life experience, right? Not really… there’s that whole opposites attract notion, after all.”

“But it’s good to have someone who understands what you’re going through, right?”

I shrug… sometimes not knowing is better. Safer. “Maybe. But in this occupation…” I sigh. “Well I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been in love.”

“You’ve – you never had someone?” Looks like I threw him for a loop.

Shaking my head I turn to look out my window at the trees we pass by. “I don’t hate love or anything… it’s just dangerous to love someone like… us. Isn’t it? They’d either get hurt by people we go after or… ya know, if we don’t come back… it hurts them too.”

“But tomorrow isn’t promised to anybody,” he reasons. “So why deprive yourself of something as great as love on the off chance you die?”

“Because it’s easier.”

“For who?”

“Why the interest Rogers? You wanna fill that spot? Play a little house? Imagine we don’t have to save the world from domestic terrorists?”

He hums at my decision to not answer the question. “No, that’s not what I need right now.”

“And what do you need?”

“Just…” he sighs. “a friend.”

Of course. “Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers…”

“Maybe we could start with not calling each other our last names?” he offers.

I smile. “Maybe.”

We arrive at the location the tracer indicated as the sun is setting.

Camp Lehigh is on a sign but it seems to be long abandoned.

“The file came from these coordinates,” I say as I pick the lock on the chained fence.

“So did I…” Steve says looking up at the sign in nostalgia. “This camp is where I was trained.”

“Change much?”

“A little…”

I wonder around, scanning the area for any thing to indicate a power source. “This is a dead end. Zero heat signatures, zero waves. Not even radio. Whoever created the file must have used a router to throw people off.” I tuck the scanner in my back pocket and the Captain looks up at me then shifts his gaze to behind me, frowning. “What is it?”

He starts walking and I follow. “Army regulations forbid storing munitions within 500 yards of the barracks. This building’s in the wrong place.” He breaks the lock with his shield and we enter as it leads us underground.

I turn on the lights and it reveals the insignia painted on the wall. “This was SHIELD. The early days, after it evolved from the Strategic Scientific Reserve,” I say, recognizing the outdated logo.

We wander around, finding a wall of three portraits. “The three founders.” He looks at me. “What? The history is one of the things they teach at the academies. Colonel Philips, Howard Stark and Margaret Carter.”

“There are academies?”

“Three. Very tough admission.”

Rogers spots something and looks closer. “If you’re already working in a secret office…” he pushes the shelves apart. “Why do you need to hide the elevator?”

Using my SHIELD issued code breaking device I type in the code for the elevator which takes us down even further to a room of computers, monitors and servers.

“This can’t be right… this equipment is ancient how could it be used to make the files?”

There was one place that looked like it came from this century and I decide to take a risk and plug in the usb drive. The servers whir and more lights come on.

“Initiate system?” a computerized voice says.

Yes, I type. “Creepy.” As we wait for the system to boot up I smirk. “Shall we play a game?” I laugh at myself. “It’s from a movie that was really pop-“

“I know,” he interrupts. “I saw it.”

A camera moves to Rogers and a voice recites his name and year of birth. Then it turns to me and does the same.

“Is this the AI that was blocking my commands back at the mall?” I say looking closer.

“I may not be the man I was back when the Captain took me in 1945 but I am.” A photo appears on one of the other screens.

“You know this… thing?”

“Arnim Zola was a German Scientist who worked for the Red Skull.”

“He’s been dead for years,” I add, remember something of the history lessons.

“First correction, I am Swiss. Second, look around you. I have never been more alive.” The robot voice recounts his end of life story and how he uploaded his consciousness into databanks.

“How did you get here?”

“By invitation.”

“It was Operation Paperclip after World War II. SHIELD recruited German scientists with strategic value. Always thought they shoulda just locked them all up… we probably wouldn’t be in this mess if they did.”

“HYDRA would have died with the Red Skull.”

“Cut off one head… two more shall take its place,” I recite their mantra aloud.

“When history did not cooperate… history was changed.” A flurry of photos of the Winter Soldier in the back ground of significant political events appear on the screens.

“That’s impossible, SHIELD would have stopped you,” I say, moving closer.

“Accidents would happen.” News of Howard and Maria Stark’s car accident shows up next.

Rogers punches the screen as Zola provokes him.

Does that mean…? I don’t finish the thought as the mad scientist explains what the drive contains.

“What kind of algorithm? What does it do?” I ask.

The doors begin to close as Steve is too late to throw his shield. A beeping comes from my communicator, detecting something. “Steve, we got a bogey. Short range ballistic 30 seconds tops.”

“Who fired it?”

“SHIELD.” I pull out the drive and Steve pulls a grate from the floor. I jump in and he follows, putting the shield up above us as rubble rains down on us. He strains against the weight of it all and the debris settles.

💖💖

Thank you for reading!

I'll be gone until Monday again but I'll try to write on my phone!! I have literally never been so busy throughout this summer until now!

Chapter 4

[yoditorian]

lacuna- part 3

din/reader

she’s dropping early because i have no patience and i’m extremely proud of the last 2/3rds of this. thanks as always to my darling @brothersdrxke​ for being encouraging and yelling with me 💛

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swears, overuse of italics, discussion of violence including graphic injury, mentions of scars (causes not discussed), one use of ‘their’ as a pronoun for reader, usual poetic smut, 18+ no babies thanks

You didn’t think you’d be back here.

Maybe ever, but definitely not after only a couple of years, and your smile is tight as you flick the lever to lower the small freighter’s boarding ramp. You’re sure it won’t come back if you drop it. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Qin’s teeth are sharp in his own smile. 

“You’re not.”

His snarled response is cut off by Ran’s booming laugh before it starts. Your old boss claps him on the shoulder, saying something in lieu of a real greeting about how he’s missed your jokes. It’s a little tense, the way the men take you in for a moment. You didn’t wear your uniform, there’s not a thing on the ship that points any fingers towards the Rebellion, but it’s clear you’ve done well for yourself since leaving. Something they clearly have not, judging by the holes in the jacket tied around Qin’s hips.

“Thanks for letting me stay, system hopping takes a lot longer when your hyperdrive’s busted.” You relax a little, let your shoulders drop, let them think you’re more than comfortable under their scrutinizing gazes. 

“We’ve probably got something laying around here you could use. For a price, of course.” Ran grins, in that predatory way that he always has. He seems so unassuming, but you know different. You know better.

“Your prices always land me on the wrong end of a blaster. I’ll take my chances in open space, thanks.” 

He laughs heartily again, and you can breathe. At least they seem to believe you. 

Ran had offered you your old room, something you’d graciously thanked him for, and left you to it. The station seems to run the same, more or less. He hasn’t hired anyone in your place, or in Din’s for that matter, but it’s difficult to find somebody without loyalties to any one side of the war. Leaving the spots open for now is probably safer for him. You’d raised a hand in greeting to Xi’an when you passed her in the hall, she’d hissed in return but any time she didn’t threaten to cut you is always a win. So at least you’re still in somebody’s good graces here.

Still, good graces don’t last long. And neither does your patience. It’s only a few hours into the night cycle on the station when you creep out of your room and towards the main hangar. Your old workspace looks exactly the same, a few bits and pieces missing, but mostly untouched by time and sticky fingers. Good. It takes less than an hour to completely gut the bench. Every single old motivator, circuit board, gear, and valve packed up neatly in the cargo hold of the ship. There’s still larger engine pieces that the base mechanics are in desperate need of, but Shara’s working on that lead. You find a black marker lying on a nearby workbench and draw a big smiley face on the dulled metal. For good measure.

It’s with a deep breath, and a prayer you never have to return, that you maneuver your ship up and out of the station. You ease it into lightspeed, the definitely-not-busted hyperdrive humming, and disappear. 

“Did you think I don’t keep tabs on people, Mando?”

Din would rather go swimming on Mustafar, or get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, or be literally anywhere else in the galaxy than the hangar on Ran’s station. How he’d even known he’d joined the Bounty Hunters’ Guild is a mystery to him, but the call came through nonetheless. The new representative on Nevarro, a very theatrical man if their short contact was anything to go by, had popped up in the holo-com display talking about a special assignment and given him coordinates he knew all too well. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“You know, Xi’an’s still broken up about you leaving. Convinced herself that you and the pilot organised it, that you’re holed up somewhere together. But we both know that’s not true.”

Din says nothing. He doesn’t need to, Ran’s tone leaves nothing to be discussed. Whether he knows for sure that you went straight to the rebels or not, he has his suspicions. Xi’an can think whatever she likes, he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to deal with her trailing after him like a lost puppy anymore. 

“They said you have a job for me.” 

Ran gestures out for him to follow, leading him to a desk he knows all too well. Your workstation was always cluttered, always a tangled heap of wires and unidentifiable spare parts. Organised chaos, you said, it was about the piles. Except it’s been completely cleared out. There’s shelves underneath that he didn’t even know existed, and a big smiley face drawn carefully on the worktop. Din turns his head towards Ran, a wordless question.

“We had a visit from our old friend, a favour done out of the kindness of my heart. So imagine my surprise when we all woke up to find their room empty, and my hangar pillaged.” Ran’s laying it on thick, thicker than usual. Pillaged is a strong word, it’s clear you only touched your own bench, those parts belong to you as far as Din’s concerned. But it’s not his concern that’s the problem. 

“So, what’s the job?” He doesn’t feel like playing games anymore. He doesn’t see what any of this has to do with him anyway.

“I’m putting a bounty on that little thief, it can be yours or it can go to the Guild. Or,” Ran hesitates, watching the way Din’s shoulders tense, “You can help me out. Help me with this one thing and I’ll drop it.”

Din doesn’t even ask what he needs to do, he only nods and finds himself trying his best to tolerate Qin’s chatter from the Crest’s passenger seat while he flies. 

It should worry him, that he didn’t even consider his own safety. But something about it feels right, he’s sure he’d put anything on the line if it meant you were safe.

It’s almost boring, standing guard at the door as Qin ransacks some official’s office on a planet he’s already forgotten the name of. Ran mentioned something about a trade agreement, although given the largely illegal nature of his dealings it doesn’t take a genius to work out exactly why something like that would have been refused by any law abiding citizen. Although law in the Outer Rim is generally subjective to everyone’s personal code. 

“One more office and we’re done.” Qin assures him as he exits the upturned office, pressing a drive into Din’s gloved palm. He pockets it without question, experience has taught him that wasting time asking will only get them in trouble. 

Trouble seems to find them anyway. It always does. 

He races through the beige hallways, following the blinking dot on the display of his vambrace with Qin hot on his heels. The security guards aren’t fast, they aren’t even armed, there’s no point in shooting when the two of them so clearly have the upper hand. Until a burly Trandoshan leaps out of a doorway and tackles Qin to the ground. But Din doesn’t look back, he just presses forward to the Crest. 

Din hightails it out of there, jumping to lightspeed still in atmosphere. Just in case. And breathes his first sigh of relief since he stepped onto the station. He’s not sure what’s on the drive, honestly he doesn’t want to know, and he just hopes it’s important enough to Ran that he might overlook the tiny detail of leaving Qin to the guards. 

Ran only seems mildly annoyed that Din comes back alone, more interested in the drive dropped into his waiting hand, and agrees to forget about setting a bounty. So long as you don’t turn up on his doorstep, lie, and steal from him again. Din promises to pass on the message.

You’re on Tatooine, arguing with a scrapper in Mos Espa over the price of a rusted laser cannon, when he finds you. The scrapper quiets when he appears over your shoulder, and nods reluctantly at your suggested fifty percent of the asking price. It’s hot and you’re tired, you don’t have the patience to pretend to be surprised when you turn to see him standing behind you. 

“Help me with this?” You ask. Din watches a bead of sweat drip down your temple, tries not to wish it was his tongue instead, and nods wordlessly.

Between the two of you, you manage to haul the cannon to your docking bay and roll it up the loading ramp. Only once it’s secure in the hold do you take a moment to survey his armour, the way you did last time.

There’s no obvious new scratches, although the dust on this rock of a planet will dirty anything in a matter of seconds, but you find yourself relieved by the familiarity of his dark red armour. Nothing has been replaced since the last time you saw him, it seems. You’ve come a long way since then.

“You’re stealing from our old boss now?” Din’s voice breaks your careful study of his armour, and your brow furrows. You thought he might understand, out of everyone in the galaxy, but you don’t even know how he found out.

“We’re in a war.” 

“You’re in a war.”

Your eyes snap up to his visor, and he has to physically plant himself so he isn’t rocked back by the intensity of your stare. You find his eyes every time, you always have. But yours have never held such a cold fury for him than they do now. It’s kind of terrifying, it’s kind of beautiful. 

“This is not about me. This is so much bigger than just me. You may have grown up underground learning how to kill people with your thumbs but I grew up under imperial rule. I grew up building parts for star destroyers and running messages for rebels. All I know is this fucking war.” You’re rambling but you don’t care. He has to know, he has to understand that this is what you do now. The last couple of years have been the best of your life, you’ve found a purpose. Something that makes you want to get out of bed in the mornings and reluctant to go back to it at night, you’ve thrown yourself into the brewing fight and it feels like you were born for it. The names of all the friends you’ve lost to the Empire sit heavy on your tongue for every TIE you take down, every supply you steal, every bit of intel you scrape together. It’s for them, it’s for everyone who came before, it’s for everyone who will come after. 

Din says your name softly, but the tears are falling and you can’t stop.

“I’ve been fighting my whole life so kids in the future don’t have to live the way I have. I think a few spare parts are worth that.”

You tell him your whole story, standing there awkwardly in the belly of the freighter. You tell him about the messages you ran between workers who resisted, who rebelled, who heard whispers of uprising and felt the roar of hope in their chests. You’d started young, too young really to understand the danger of what you were doing. But what about being young on Corellia was not dangerous? You tell him how the group started to grow, branching out from your factory line to the docks and the mechanics and further. The way they started to include you more as you got older, planning and whispering in darkened corners and safehouses away from the ears of the Empire. 

Not that it did anyone any good in the end. You tell him how they stormed the house one night. No warning, no whispers. Blew the door out of the wall and started shooting. So you’d started running. Nothing but the blanket from your bed, the one you’d had since you were a child, around your shoulders and a younger girl’s hand in yours. You’d almost gotten her to the loading docks. To safety. Almost. You can still taste the blood in your mouth when the blaster bolt split her head open, but you’d left her where she fell and kept running. You tell him how you dove into the first open cargo bay you saw and hid. For days. How you’d cried when you felt it finally lift from the bay. How it had been Ran’s ship, one of his first trades. You hadn’t had the courage to leave the station until somebody had shown you it was possible.

Din doesn’t interrupt once. He only watches. Watches as the tears stop streaming, as you pull yourself back together again. He’s sure you didn’t want him, anyone, to see you so vulnerable. You’ve always had that mask of quick jokes and bright smiles, it’s only now that he realises it's a mask, and it’s oddly fascinating to watch you piece it together. You wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of your jacket until there’s no trace of your tears and take a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, it’s as though you never cried at all. 

Even so, the bags under your eyes don’t lie. He’s sure he’s got a pair to match.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asks quietly, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was concerned about you. But you do know better. 

You shoot a glance over to the freighter’s sorry excuse of a bunk. It’s even worse than the last one he took you in, although you’re not sure he’s suggesting a good fuck will get you off to sleep. It’s very pointedly not been touched, starched sheets still stretched military-tight over the mattress. Not that it’s much of a mattress. 

“Let’s find a room somewhere. I think a real bed might do us both some good.” He makes it sound like an offer, but you know it’s non-negotiable. And deep down, you really could use a good hour or two before you have to fly back to base. The pilot’s seat is definitely more comfortable than the bunk, just about. You dip into the cockpit at the last second to snag your old blanket. For comfort’s sake.

There’s not a lot in the room that an older Twi’lek woman hands you the keycard to. Only a desk with a chair, an attached refresher, and a small bed. But it’s big enough for the two of you. The suns start to dip below the horizon, and Din finally reaches out to touch you. Just barely, just a light stroke of his fingers along your shoulder. But it’s enough to convince you to take a shower, you’re sandy and sweaty and tired and it’ll take more energy to argue than it would to just take the shower. 

You’re in there for longer than you intended, zoning out as your eyes lose focus of the little square tiles on the wall, and it’s dark outside by the time you’re dried and dressed in the spare clothes you keep in your go-bag. Din’s pulled blinds shut, locked the door, and piled his armour carefully on the desk. The ancient wood creaks under the weight of the metal. The man himself is lying spreadeagled on the bed, in only his underclothes and his helmet, the dull light from the single bulb in the refresher reflects off of his visor when he turns to look at you. It might make you laugh if you weren’t so tired.

“Better?”

You nod. Of course you feel better, anyone would after scrubbing what felt like an inch thick layer of sweat and sand off of their skin. You smell of the pleasantly neutral soap from the dispenser and, for the first time in days, you think you can breathe again. Although the weight of exhaustion threatens to drag your bones through the floor. 

Din pulls himself to stand with a low groan, shoulders protesting when he rolls them, and tucks the sheet back far enough that you can get in comfortably. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s laid your blanket out beneath them, a thought that sits jagged in your throat. He approaches you slowly, carefully, as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast. But you take his hand the moment he offers it and leans around you to switch the fresher’s light off, let him lead you back to the bed, and follow him down onto it. 

There’s the barest sound of metal brushing against his hair as he pulls the helmet off and  sits up for a moment to set it down on the floor. 

“Din?” Your voice is quiet, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled in the room, but it makes him shudder all the same. He returns to you, tucks the blankets up around you both, and tugs you into him. The Armourer’s words, the ones that swirl in his head every time he thinks of you like this, are silent. Din finds he’s not even a little bit guilty.

Warm fingers trace your body, soft over your exposed skin, light as they dip under your shirt. He says nothing, only traces the scars on your back, on your sides, along your ribs. He doesn’t ask how they got there, running his touch along the raised marks you’ve collected through your life and leaving goosebumps in his wake. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel quite so empty. 

You shift further into the warmth underneath you, a vain attempt to keep a hold of the last few dregs of sleep. But you feel rested, at least. That’s not something particularly familiar, and you bask in the feeling. A hum rumbles beneath you. Oh, that’s where you are. You’re not embarrassed, or shocked, like you thought you might be if this ever happened. If you ever thought it possible he wouldn’t leave you to wake up alone. But Din is solid under your head, under your arm, the soft fabric of his shirt clutched in your fist. He’s speaking softly, coaxing you from dreams. It’s still dark as anything when you finally open your eyes, so it can’t have been more than a few hours you spent snoozing. 

It’s his story, you realise when your brain finally kicks into gear. He’s whispering about the memories he has from before, his parents. You’d always assumed he was born and raised Mandalorian, how he carries his Way so heavily on his shoulders, but the shake in his ribs as he recounts them tells you all you need to know. Your fist tightens in his shirt when you shuffle a little closer, press your face into his shoulder, a little more over the top of him. A human blanket. 

Din likes it, the weight of you on him, your body helps him to keep focus. He never thought he’d tell anyone what happened to him. A dirty secret to be kept hidden away. But something about you pulls it out of him, something about the peace he’s created here with you in this little room makes the truth ease its way out of his throat. You’re not the only one who felt the wrath of the Empire as a child, you’re not the only one who wants it gone, he needs you to know that.

It breaks something inside you, to hear him so clearly struggle through the details of the attack and his rescue, and you can’t help but push yourself up further. Unwrap your hand from his shirt to find his cheek, press your lips to his softly, slowly. He’s suffered enough. You need him to know that you’re here, you have him. You’ll always have him. You let him lose himself in your body, and maybe your heart. He’s already made a home there anyways.

It’s careful, tentative, more so than the other times. The way you hold each other as though you’re made of glass. There’s no rush, no pressure of a goodbye, no adrenaline of a hunt. You have time. And, god, does it show. The way Din touches you is reverent, like you’re holy. You put everything you are, everything you have, behind every kiss, every touch, every whisper. It belongs to him, you’re happy to give yourself over. Just as he belongs to you, you’re sure of it. The fear that he touches someone else in the way he does you is soothed by the roughness of his voice in your ear, the way his teeth scrape against your throat, the way you hear the words without them needing to be said. Because he does, as you do.

You’re the first one to leave this time, blindly finding your clothes in the dark. You leave him a neutral comm, one you already have the pin saved for. He’ll know what it is. It connects to your personal pin without leaving a trace, and you can buzz him at any point. So long as he keeps it, you think he will. You take a moment to listen to him breathing, steadily in the dark, and raise your blanket to your nose. Din. 

There won’t be a day goes by where you don’t think of him, of that you’re certain.

TAGLIST (lmk if u want on or off the list):

@brothersdrxke​ @remmysbounty​ @aq-vetina​ @1800-fight-me​ @mandos-co​ @kesskirata​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @keeper0fthestars​

[seasonofthewicth]

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 6

AN: I feel like I’ve got my mojo back with this fic a little bit, this was so fun to write and I hope it’s fun to read too!

masterlist

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First days were always nerve-racking, and this one was no different.

Aelin knew she had no real reason to be nervous other than the fact it was new, she had prepared what she needed, even taking extra time this morning to make sure she had put on a swipe of make-up and a smart outfit to feel primed for the day.

She’d taken it upon herself to wake Fenrys up half an hour earlier than normal to make sure he would be ready to leave on time, she knew he normally rocked up to the school right on the bell, but she needed to be at least five minutes early to meet the principal, lest she look unprepared.

Fenrys had left her outside the principal’s office, waiting for the woman to arrive, taking in the blue carpet of the floor and the wooden panels of the walls. The school was in an old building, with mostly traditional décor that gave it character unlike her old school. She liked it. Even though the chair she sat in was hard and uncomfortable as she shifted her weight while she waited for the principal to appear.

She had been thankful for Fenrys’ comforting presence in the car on their way, he had chattered away filling her in on the harmless school gossip, distracting her from her worries about the new school, but now he was gone, off to teach his own classes for the day, the nerves had settled back in.

He had been almost more excited than Aelin about her new role, glad to have her at the school, and he had championed most of the drinking the night she had found out. She had had a great night, each of her friends seemed genuinely happy for her and had toasted to her all night, even once she had gone to bed they had continued to celebrate.

She hadn’t managed to quiz Lysandra after her kiss with Aelin’s cousin, whenever Aedion came up between the two Lysandra had been quick to change the subject, embarrassed at her drunk actions and the fact that they had even played truth or dare at all.

Aedion had recovered well, from Lysandra’s determined ignorance of his existence every time she saw him since, and Aelin was relatively sure he had brought a guest home from the night she hadn’t made it out to and had instead gone to bed.

Gone to bed might have been putting it generously, she remembered the way Rowan had guided her to her room. A gentle hand making sure she didn’t stumble, tucking her sheets over her and leaving a glass of water for her to down in the morning.

Her heart gave a squeeze at how gentle he had been.

Heels clacked against the cheap flooring and she glanced up. The woman striding towards her was dressed smartly in a black pencil skirt and a navy blue blouse. She had a couple of decades on Aelin, but her dark locks didn’t have even a hint of grey, nor did her harsh face have the beginning of a wrinkle.

The woman strode up to Aelin and presented her with a hand.

“Miss Galathynius I presume? Welcome to our school.” Her voice was stern but polite and Aelin stood and shook the hand she was offered. “I’m Maeve Valg, Principal, we’re glad to have you on board. Please follow me.”

The woman, Maeve, led the way into the office Aelin had been sat outside. Aelin nodded, greeting the woman and following her in.

Inside the office it was tidy, shelves lined the walls, overflowing with books and files, but organised in a way that Aelin was jealous of. Her own organisation wasn’t lacking, it couldn’t be, as a teacher she needed to know where things were, but she could never reach this level of military-style precision.

The Principal took a seat behind the large wooden desk in the centre of the room and Aelin dropped to the seat on the other side, facing her.

“Welcome,” She said again, a polite smile on her lips.

“Thank you, it’s great to be here.” Aelin said, folding her hands in her lap.

First impressions were important, and she knew she’d be able to get away with much more at a later date if she gave Maeve the initial impression that she was to be trusted.

Maeve nodded.

“It’s great to have you here, I was impressed with your interview, and I’m confident that you will fit into our school ethos well.”

Aelin smiled. She knew from Fenrys that the school valued the community spirit and communication between teachers a departments, she was excited to get stuck in. She told Maeve as much and she received another slight smile.

A knock sounded at the door behind her and Maeve called for whoever was on the other side to come in.

“Ah yes,” Maeve said standing from behind her desk. “I’ve invited Mr Havilliard to show you around. He can give you a bit more information than I can as I have to attend a meeting now.”

Aelin turned to the man in the doorway and saw he was grinning at her.

He was as handsome as a Disney prince, his thick dark hair curled around his ears, and his deep blue eyes were striking and sparkling. She took in his clean white shirt and pressed trousers where he stood. He wasn’t as tall as her roommates, but he still tilted his chin to smile down at her.

“Dorian Havilliard.” He offered his hand. “At your service.”

She shook his hand. “Aelin Galathynius.”

He grinned at her even wider than before. “Follow me Aelin,” He turned to the door with a nod behind her at the principal.

“Thanks,” She smiled at the dark haired woman before following Dorian out the door.

Once in the hall, his posture relaxed, and Aelin adjusted hers in response. He led the way down the nearest hallway, the corridors empty of any students given that the first period had already begun.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s a hard ass, but you get used to it.” He told her, his voice was low and smooth.

“Right, good to know,” She joked. “I was worried.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. She’s like that with me still and I’ve been here for years.”

She blinked; he couldn’t have been much older than her. He must have sensed her confusion, or seen the look that crossed her face, and said, “I’ve been here seven years, got the job straight out of college, worked my way up to be one of the assistant principals last year.”

Impressive, Aelin noted. He must have been at least couple of years older than her then, making him maybe thirty, if her quick mental maths added up.

“What do you teach?” She asked him, curious about that path he had taken to get where he was.

“English,” He told her. “I love it, have loved it since I was a kid.”

Aelin shared his interest, she had loved reading ever since her childhood and her mother had bought her book after book when she devoured the stories one by one. She supposed that was where her interest in history had stemmed from, reading historical fiction had led her to historical non-fiction and she found the tales of knights and kings and queens to be fascinating. Sweeping her away into tales of honour and warfare and romance, distant enough from her reality to transport her away.

They were making their way down the halls, Dorian pointing out the points of interest on their tour, telling her where the cafeteria was, where the main hall and staff rooms were. He showed her where her office would be, and they walked past the classroom that would become hers once she had time to make it her own.

“So,” He turned to her after walking her through the grounds of the school, showing her the sports pitches and athletics track. “What’s your story?”

She pondered his question for a moment, chewing the inside of her lip slightly as she took in his smile and the way he was walking close to her, his shoulders leaning into her own.

“My story?” She shrugged, flicking her eyes out across the field in front of her. “I lost my old job to budget cuts, but I’d been there for a couple of years. I actually moved here after college when I qualified and then got the job pretty much straight away.”

He nodded along as she spoke, a dark curl of his hair bobbing along his forehead as he did, but then he tilted his head at her, a piercing look in his sapphire-blue eyes.

“I knew you weren’t from around here, but I couldn’t place the accent.”

“I’m from Terrasen.” She told him, thinking fondly of her home country and her parents who lived there still. It’s rolling mountains and grassy plains that she had explored as a child, sometimes alone, sometimes with Aedion when him and his parents came to visit.

“My accent isn’t as strong now that I’ve been in Adarlan for so long.”

Dorian only smiled at her. “I like it.”

She smiled, unsure how else to respond. Was it wise to flirt with a colleague? She wasn’t truly sure she wanted to flirt with him, and she fought the part of her brain that flashed an image of Rowan up at her. She was trying her best to keep her distance, at least in that respect.

“I teach history, I love it, but I love reading too. I also live with Fenrys, I don’t know if you know him?”

“Fenrys?” He questioned. “Coach Moonbeam?”

She nodded and watched something flash across his face at the confirmation, something she’d have to ask Fenrys about. If his reputation had ruined her first friendship at the school before it had barely had chance to start she’d kill him.

“Yeah,” She confirmed warily. “We live together. He told me about the opening here.”

“I see.” She couldn’t place Dorian’s reaction to her roommate, so quickly changed the subject.

“Any advice for this school?” She asked as he held the door open for her to re-enter the building.

“Not really,” He huffed a slight laugh, scratching his jaw. “Stick with me, and a couple of other teachers here that are pretty sound, and you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah? You’ll have to introduce me.”

Maybe if she could make her own friends here she wouldn’t have to follow Fenrys around like a lost puppy.

He checked his watch, something silver and clearly expensive before saying, “Actually, I think some of them might be free now.”

He led her back through the hallways to the staff room he had pointed out earlier and pushed into the small room.

There were kitchen counters around the sides, a number of cupboards no doubt stuffed full of mugs and plates, standard for a school staff room. There were tables and chairs dotted about the space and at one of the tables sat a man and two women, each nursing a mug that based on the smell she knew contained coffee.

“Aelin,” Dorian began. “Meet Chaol, Yrene and Nehemia.”

He pointed around the table as he made the introductions.

The man, Chaol, was stern looking but his expression lightened when he offered her a small smile, his copper-brown eyes crinkling at the motion. The woman next to him smiled widely at Aelin, Yrene, was beautiful, and her brown hair fell in spirals down her back, golden highlights standing out. A shining ring on her left hand glinted as she waved at Aelin around her mug.

The final woman, Nehemia, was striking. Her dark skin was smooth and her raven hair, braided down her back, had small elements of gold scattered throughout. Nehemia shot her a sly grin upon introduction, Aelin liked her immediately.

“Guys meet Aelin Galathynius. The new head of humanities, Terrasen native and Fenrys Moonbeam’s roommate.”

At Dorian’s introduction Chaol nearly choked on a mouthful of coffee and Nehemia outright cackled. Aelin needed to ask Fenrys about it.

“Hi Aelin,” Yrene smiled at her, her face kind as she waved a hand at the teachers on either side of herself. “Ignore them, welcome. How is your first day going?”

“It’s fine so far,” Aelin said as she followed Dorian over to where he was fetching a cup of coffee and grabbing her own. “I’ve had a great tour.”

Nehemia laughed again, “Right.” She said sarcastically and Dorian flashed her the finger.

“Where did he show you? I’m sure he probably managed to leave somewhere out,” Chaol cut in, his tone ribbing Dorian again.

“Everywhere, I think. Or at least I’d hope so.” She said, taking her seat next to him, Dorian slotting in on her other side.

“Hmm,” Chaol hummed, shooting an unimpressed look at Dorian who held his hands up, grinning at Chaol.

“I did!” Dorian protested to Chaol who rolled his eyes and sighed a laugh. Aelin laughed along, she could tell Chaol was exasperated, but fond of Dorian.

The dynamic between the group was easy, friendly and teasing, but clearly a very tight knit group. Chaol and Yrene were an adorable couple, very much in love, Dorian had sung at her when she had asked. Nehemia had a killer sense of humour, mostly at Dorian’s expense, but he always laughed along, taking the jokes in his stride.

He had been extremely friendly towards her. Filling all of the gaps in her knowledge without her needing to ask, touching her gently on the arm when he directed the conversation to her.

He was an extremely attractive man, with a charming kind of confidence that she normally would have been all over. Had she met him in a bar, she could see herself sliding into the seat next to him and flashing him a small smile while she accepted the drink he would have offered to buy her.

But they weren’t in a bar, they were at work, and he was technically her boss.

She could hear Lysandra’s warnings, you know it’s a bad idea, she would tut before reassuring Aelin she could find a man anywhere else, that she didn’t need Dorian and his disarming smiles.

Lysandra, as per usual, was probably right.

------

The rest of her day flew by quickly. She had a brief introduction to her classes from Maeve, fresh out of her meeting with the school board, and she had had some time to move her belongings and teaching aids into her classroom. Tomorrow would be her first full day of teaching and she was prepared.

It was only later that evening that she remembered to ask Fenrys about Dorian and his friends’ reactions to his name, even though they had driven home together he had filled the journey with tales of his students and their inabilities to play simple games.

She cornered him in the kitchen as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, resting her hand against the island, blocking his exit as she asked.

“Dorian Havilliard?” He questioned; his face carefully blank.

“Yes, do you know him? He had an interesting reaction to your name.”

More than just that, his friends had outright laughed at Dorian when Fenrys’ name had been mentioned. Surely all of the outlandish situations her imagination was telling her were way off, it had to be something small.

Fenrys sighed, taking a swig of his beer and lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Dorian Havilliard and I have a history.” He winced as he said the words.

Aelin groaned. She could try to repair any fights they had had; she knew she could definitely blackmail Fenrys into an apology, she liked Dorian and his friends.

“What kind of a history?” She narrowed her eyes.

A blush started on Fenrys’ neck, spreading up to his cheeks.

“A… sexual history.”

“No!” She gasped.

She ran through the interactions she and Dorian had had today. She felt a blush creeping up her cheeks, she had thought he had been flirting with her, complimenting her accent and the way he had been leaning into her. How had she read it so wrong? And Fenrys had a… history with him?

Fenrys bit his lip as he nodded.

“Oh gods,” She groaned, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I thought he was flirting with me.”

Fenrys shrugged, unbothered by both her reaction and his own revelation. “He probably was, to be fair. He flirts with everyone.”

It was that moment that Rowan chose to come into the kitchen.

She fought the small wave of embarrassment at the sight of him, at the thought of the conversation they had had when she thanked him for putting her to bed. She hadn’t been sure whether to mention it or not but decided it would have been worse to not acknowledge it.

He had been graceful, reassuring her with a small smile that it was no bother. Which she appreciated, had the roles been switched she would have made sure he got to bed. Well, she would have tried.

And she was grateful, any of her other roommates probably would have left her on the couch. Lorcan probably would have even taken photos of her passed out, probably would have enjoyed seeing how many things he could have balanced on her sleeping form.  

“Who flirts with everyone?” He asked, stepping around her to get to the fridge.

He was dressed in his usual uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt; this one was green, and it complemented his silver hair.

“Fenrys’ ex, one of the teachers at the school.” She told him, but Fenrys shook his head around a mouthful of his beer.

“Not my ex,” He said once he had swallowed. “It was a one-time thing. Years ago.”

It reassured her slightly that she hadn’t been crazy, and that she had probably picked up on the cues from Dorian correctly.

“He was flirting with you?” Rowan turned to her, pulling his own beer out of the fridge, his tan face unreadable.

“I think so,” She pursed her lips.

“Oh,” Rowan’s voice was quiet, and he looked down to the beer in his hand.

“It was probably nothing,” She found herself saying. “I wasn’t flirting back.”

“You could.” Fenrys said from beside her. “It would be fine with me, he’s a decent enough guy. Good in bed too.”

She pushed him on the arm, and he laughed.

“Didn’t need to know that,” She laughed as she pushed his arm again when he made a suggestive gesture at her. “Get out that’s gross.”

“Didn’t think you were a prude, Galathynius.” He teased, but turned from the room, blowing a kiss at her as he left.

She turned to Rowan, who remained leaning against the counter opposite her, picking at the label on his beer bottle.

“Office romance on day one, huh?” He teased her, his lips twitching with the smirk that was threatening to break through.

“Stop that,” She told him. “It was very light flirting.”

He shrugged at her, taking a sip of his beer.  

“If that even, he probably wasn’t. Or maybe I’m making it up.”

“Now you stop.” Rowan told her; his eyebrows drawn as he pushed off from the counter. “Why wouldn’t he have been flirting with you?”

She raised her eyebrow at him, unimpressed, daring him to continue.

“I’m serious,” He continued, stepping over until he was directly in front of her.

Every time they were close she was struck by how much bigger he was than her. And how good he smelled, his pine and snow combination was clean and fresh, she took a deep breath in.

“Why wouldn’t he want to flirt with you?”

She tilted her head up to look at him, suddenly vulnerable in what had previously been a light-hearted conversation, taking in his serious expression. His eyes were earnest as he looked into her own.

“I don’t know,” She started, not drawing her eyes away from his. She wasn’t sure she was able to. “After Arobynn I haven’t been flirted with for a while.”

She loosed a self-deprecating laugh.

He put his beer down on the counter, resting his hand on the counter by her side, his front was almost pressed up against hers now and her breaths came quickly.

“Of course you have,” He told her, his voice soft. “Maybe you just haven’t noticed.”

She swallowed hard.

He picked up a piece of her hair between two of his fingers, smiling gently as he twisted the strand around a knuckle. Aelin liked his smile, it showed a lighter side of him, and he looked especially handsome when he did.

“I think I would notice if guys had been flirting with me.” Her voice was rough as his other hand came down on the bench by her waist. He boxed her in to the island now, close enough to her to share breath, as he hummed in response.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she felt as if an electric current was thrumming below her skin at his close proximity.

“I’m not convinced.” His voice rumbled over her skin, his breath brushing her ear sending shivers down her spine as she tucked her chin down at the sensation. Her action pinned Rowan’s face in the crook of her neck, but he didn’t pull away, instead he pressed his face into the spot where her shoulder met her neck, breathing her in deeply.

His lips brushed against her neck, their touch feather light.

Aelin couldn’t move. She was sure she was panting now; Rowan’s own breaths had increased their pace where she felt his chest pressing against her own. Each brush lighting sparks along her skin.

She needed to be careful, this would look incriminating to any of their roommates if they walked in now, but she couldn’t connect her brain to her body.

While her rational brain was screaming at her to step away and put some distance between herself and Rowan, her traitorous body urged her to press closer into Rowan. Urged her to press her hips against his own and generate the friction she craved.

Rowan’s brain seemed to work faster than her own as he drew his head back with a hiss, leaning on his heels to put some distance between them. She felt the cold where her body now touched only air.

His green eyes were dark, almost taken over by his pupils as he scanned her face.

He cleared his throat and picked his beer back up of the island.

“I think you’d notice.” He told her with a hint of a smile.

He stepped back from her fully and left the kitchen without another word. She heard his bedroom door close before she managed to breathe again.

She screwed her eyes shut as she squeezed her thighs together, trying to convince herself she felt nothing.

He was a rutting good flirt, damn him. She definitely noticed.

------

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen​

@maybekindasortaace​

@slytheringalathynius​

@http-itsrebecca​

@morganofthewildfire​

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​

@fictional-horan​

@tottenhamboys20​

@dressedindustandshadows​

@sleeping-and-books​

@perseusannabeth​

@ireallyshouldsleeprn​

@superspiritfestival​

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln​

@spyofthenightcourt​

@jlinez​

@queen-of-glass​

@booknerdproblems​

I’ve combined the tag list for this fic and general tog for ease, but I’m not convinced I’ve done it right so let me know if I need to make any changes.

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 is finally here and sorry for the wait. I work full time and I am doing uni as well. I have an assignment due next week so I had to leave my fic aside as well.

Tonight here in Scotland is a big night for rugby fans. Rowan and Lorcan from my fic will be probably celebrating with me just now. Scotland has won against England at Twickenham (Home game for England) and for the three of us it's a very, very, very, big thing. I guess our two men are on their way to the pub to get totally pished (wonderful Scottish word for drunk).

Also, I was so involved in the game that I almost forgot to publish tonight.

Chapter 20 has been a challenge. I have changed a part of the story about 4 times and I hope I chose the best plot. We get to meet Chaol. I know in the books he is not as horrible but i made him a bit more horrible just for the sake of the story. Also, be happy that it finished the way it did. In one of my plans I had gone for much, much more angst. Then I told myself that I was writing a fluffy story and ignored the cruel idea.

Oh, I forgot to add that there is just a smidge of smut.

I really hope you will enjoy the chapter.

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

The next morning Aelin woke up before Rowan again. She had a fantastic sleep after the perfect day they had at the festival, but now she was ready to celebrate Rowan because his birthday had finally arrived. She turned to him and he was still sleeping soundly. The lines of his face soft making him even more beautiful. She had planned a birthday lunch at Maeve’s, she had a few presents for him, but most especially she intended to wake him up in a very special way. The night before he had gone to bed with just his boxer and shirtless, which meant he had been much more tired than he let it show because he never did that before. Slowly she pulled the blankets back revealing his naked chest. He was sleeping on his back making her plan much easier. Wickedly she removed her top remaining naked from the waist up. Gently she straddled him and then leaned forward depositing kisses along his torso making sure that her naked body was in full contact with his. She heard him moan softly and he slowly come to awareness. Surprise flaring in his eyes as he took in their position.

“Good morning, birthday boy.” Her body brushed his, her hard peaks against his skin. His eyes went wide. “What—” but she kissed him deeply not letting him finish the sentence. He shifted up until he was in a seated position and Aelin kept straddling him, then she leaned a bit back allowing him to look at her properly. “You are…” and he pointed at her state of undress. “Your first present.” She took his hands and placed them on her breasts. Rowan’s mouth crushed against hers, avid and needy and she did not hold back. His mouth then travelled to her neck and finally he grabbed her hard peaks in her mouths and Aelin arched her back into him. His other hand found its way in the waistband of her underwear and grabbed her butt pulling her closer to him. She felt him hard against her and she had to try very hard not to grind against him. His touch became more demanding as his tongue was doing wicked thing to her mouth. “You can touch me whenever you want,” she breathed in his ear and Rowan groaned and flipped on her back, his body now towering over her. “You…” a lick on her neck “have…” a gentle bite that sent her mind reeling “no…” his mouth on her breasts again “idea…” and his teeth closed on her nipple. Aelin gently moaned. His hands were taking in every inch of her body and she felt on fire at his touch. His mouth followed the lines of her abdomen until he reached her underwear and placed an almost reverential kiss at the apex of her thighs. It was a simple gesture but Aelin almost lost it. His mouth travelled back up and locked again onto hers but a finger slipped between her legs. He pressed gently at her sensitive spot and she felt her body jerk. Using the fabric of her underwear for friction, his finger was now making circles and she felt his mouth bend into a grin. This was not what she had planned. It was supposed to be the other way around with her giving him a special treatment for his birthday. Aelin suddenly felt it, the pressure build, her core now starting to tighten and until release rippled through her like a river out of control. She lifted her head and screamed in his shoulder. She rode her high and he did not stop until she was spent. Then he gave a quick kiss on the mouth and collapsed on the bed at her side, propping his head up with his fist. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain composure “This was not what I had planned,” she turned to face him and his grin was wide “I was the one one supposed to give you such a lovely good morning. Not you.” And she poked his shoulder, in response he leaned over and kissed her again. “You provoked me.” His knuckle traced her breasts “with these.” He kissed her again “and I really, really loved my present.” Still half naked she got out of bed and went to her old room to grab his presents. She came back and climbed on bed under his hungry stare. She sat down, not bothering to get dressed again. She handed him the first present and he opened it and smiled when he realised what it was: a green t-shirt with the Peat and Diesel logo. His face blossomed in a lovely smile. “Put this one on.” He said handing the t-shirt back to her. “Does it really bother you to have me naked in bed?” “No,” he said leaning closer “I want something with your smell on.” She put the t-shirt and he kissed her “perfect,” while slowly his hand sneaked underneath the fabric. She patted his hand “I have one more present.” “Very generous woman.” He sat back and took the envelope that she handed him. Once opened, he read what was on it. It was a handmade coupon for a romantic getaway of his choosing. “You choose the location. It can be the mainland or here on the islands. Anywhere in Scotland to be honest. And you get to choose when as well.” She explained “My only rules are that it’s somewhere possibly quiet and with a lot of nature. And once we have the location, I get to chose the accommodation, which will be of course on me since it’s my present to you.” She looked at him “You choose the location and the dates, everything else is on me. Clear?” His mouth was on hers again and she pulled him down on the bed where he landed on top of her. “Thank you for your presents.” She hoped he decided on his getaway as soon as possible because she could not wait any longer. His hips slammed into her and ground against her thighs gently and Aelin groaned against his shoulder. With all the force she had she pushed him off and flung herself out of bed “Breakfast. Work.” She said breathless “Please Ro, I am about to lose my wits.” And she moved to the kitchen to cook breakfast. There was no way she was letting him cook on his birthday.

The morning at the bookshop had been busy. The town was buzzing with festival goers and also tourists and they had their constant stream of people flocking in and Aelin was in her element. Some of them even had told her they had discovered the bookshop on Facebook and her face morphed into a grin. She had gone back to Rowan and told him and she bragged about her amazing PR capabilities. He, in response, rolled his eyes. “You might be the owner, but I put the shop on the map.” Rowan chuckled and kept working on his computer. Aelin got closer and sneaked her head under his arm peeking at the screen “So you are ignoring me for paperwork?” “Aelin, I am not ignoring you. You know I need to do this and reconcile the invoices.” He turned his head and looked at her. “I can handle that for you if you want.” “Title of your sex tape.” He kissed her and grinned. Since Aelin had introduced him to Brooklyn 99 he had become obsessed with the show and they have been binge watching it for a while now. Rowan had also started to make ‘title of your sex tapes’ jokes and she was so proud of him. “I created a monster.” She laughed leaning a bit more against him. He put an arm around her for a moment and kissed her head “Can I just finish this? That you can annoy me all you want.” “Fine,” she said, walking away and swaying her hips on purpose “Come and call me when you are done.” He grinned “You know what I am about to say, right?” “Yeah, title of my sex tape.” And she walked away to play with some of the shelves and let him finish work as he asked. It was a couple of hour later when Rowan joined Aelin. She had one shelf completely empty and was now re organising the non fiction section. “What are you doing?” “I am giving a chance to some of these books to be noticed.” She replied while hauling a small pile to the table “This is the slowest seller section. Fine, we don’t have many titles, but we need to make an effort so it does not lie here forgotten.” “Go ahead and have fun. I trust you.” Then he looked at a couple of titles “Let’s choose one title to put in this week’s recommendations.” “Great idea.” He left her when a customer came in and froze at the sight. He knew that face, he had seen him in a picture Aelin had binned after she moved to his place. Rage surged in him. “I am looking for Aelin.” The man said. Aelin recognised that voice and jumped and went to the front of the shop and stared at the man. “Hi babe,” Her hands fisted at her side and Rowan was at her side as soon as he noticed. “What are you doing here.” Her voice dangerously low. “Saw all you lovely pictures on Instagram and had to come and have a look where my dear ex wife had moved to.” His hands went to his pockets and strutted around the shop admiring it with curiosity “So this is where you work now? A bookshop?” He added in a mocking tone. Aelin was now shaking with rage and Rowan placed a hand on her lower back which did not go unnoticed by Chaol. “Your big dreams seem to have taken a hit.” “Why are you here?” She asked again, reining in the desire to thump him. “To take you back of course.” “You what?” Aelin was speechless “What makes you think I would want to come back with you?” “You love me.” He moved one step closer, ignoring a seething Rowan at her side “I know we had our issues but I am ready to start again. I left her. No more lies. I just want you back. We can have a trial run and then get married again.” Aelin was so shocked by the admission that she could not do anything “I can’t.” She finally said. “You lied to me for over a year. You treated me like a monster. Cheated on me and now you expect me to come back to you? Just because detective slut has left you?” She took a step toward him “You have some guts.” “Aelin, please,” he grabbed her wrist but Rowan grabbed her as well and pulled her back to him. Chaol looked at Rowan and the man straightened up to try and look as imposing as possible. Rowan was a good twenty centimetres taller than Chaol. “Seriously? This guy? You are leaving behind your life in London for this guy?” Aelin heard the growl coming from Rowan. “There is nothing in London for me, Lysandra aside. My life there is a part of the past, same as you are.” “Aelin I was wrong okay? And I am sorry for the way I hurt you. But these months without you made me realise I miss you and I want to do all I can to take you back.” He took another step closer to her. Aelin started pacing. Her mind was spinning out of control. There was no way she was going back to him. Never. She was furious. “I am not coming back.” She eventually said in a low tone, looking at him in the eyes. “My life is here now. I am looking for a job as a doctor here. And I have Rowan. You had your chance and you blew it. Now it’s too late. You should have fought when there was a chance to fix things. It’s over Chaol.” “A job here? Treating what? Sheep? Come on, Aelin, you have more ambition than that.” Rowan almost lunged forward but Aelin stopped him and gave him a tender smile. “Even on an island people need doctors. This is my life now.” She placed herself between the two men, facing her ex husband “And I love it here.” “You can’t be serious.” His tone was getting on Aelin’s nerves. “Like a heart attack.” Was her dead pan reply. Chaol ran his hand through his hair a move that a long time ago it would have sent her shivers down her spine and then ended up in his arms. “It looks like your leg has healed.” She needed some time to refocus. He was taken aback by the sudden change of topic “Yeah, Lysandra is a wizard at her job. I am still walking slowly, but I abandoned my cane last week and I will go back to work the next one.” “Good.” “Aelin, can we please have lunch together and talk? Perhaps without an audience?” And he glared at Rowan. “No. I have said all I had to say to you.” She sighed. He was always stubborn “I have no regrets for the divorce. We were not happy anymore. You were a cheating bastard. It was the only option and you need to accept it. I have moved on. Now it’s time you go back to London and do the same.” “Did you fuck your boy toy already?” Aelin stepped dangerously closer to Chaol “Yes. And you know what?” Another step “He made me scream in a way that you never did all those times he fucked me against a wall.” That was petty but Chaol was out of line and she had enough of him. Then she took a step back and joined Rowan and placed an arm around his waist. She could see rage in his eyes. “Aelin has been quite clear. I would recommend you to leave this shop immediately and never come back.” Rowan’s voice was flat and she realised she had never heard him like that. It was eerie. He was furious. Probably just as much as she was. “Chaol, please…” “I loved you.” He shouted “I still do. I don’t deserve all this hate. It was not all my fault. You didn’t even try,” he stepped back. He was about to add something else but gave up in the end. “Fine. Enjoy your pathetic life here. Enjoy your new boy toy, I hope he can handle you. You are not worth it. Not anymore.” And with those words he left. As soon as he was out of the shop Aelin let out a sob. Her hand to her mouth and her body shaken by the now full blown sobs. Rowan moved a step to her to try and console her but she moved away. She went to the back office and gathered all of her stuff “I need to be alone.” “Aelin…” Rowan’s hand was extended in an effort to stop her. “Leave me alone. Everyone.” She growled and left the shop. Rowan felt his heart break at those words. He only moved again when he heard a customer enter the shop.

Working had been a nightmare. Rowan’s mind kept thinking about Aelin’s broken stare. She pushed him away and the whole thing was driving him insane. She wanted space and he was going to give it to her but it did hurt. He closed the shop at his usual time and went back home with dread in his guts. She hadn’t texted him and he was getting worried. They were meant to go to the ceilidh but that was probably off the table now. And he raged. He was looking forward to dance with her. Once at home he changed into something more comfortable and crashed on the sofa. He lay down and placed a hand on his head and his mobile on his chest, just in case he had news from her. He was almost falling asleep when the phone buzzed. He jumped seated and went for the mobile. It was a text from Aelin. I am sorry. Are you okay? Where are you? Tolsta. Was all she said. Rowan stood and debated what to do next. She had told him where she was. Did it meant it was okay now for him to join her? He paced for half an hour and in the end he decided to go to her. Then he stopped. His car was still in the shop and swore loudly. He had a look at the buses and for a moment he hated island life where buses could be infrequent and stopped after a while. He couldn’t even ask his aunt because she lived outside town and she needed the car to go back home. Finally he decided to get a taxi. It was his only option. He booked the ride and got changed again very quickly. The ride was short and fifteen minutes later he spotted her car at the car park and made his way to her, his heart hammering with fear. What if she was going to break up with him? He knew it was a stupid idea but he was terrified. Once he reached the beach he noticed her seating in the sand, her arms around her legs and his Glasgow uni hoodie on. He had returned it to her the day before. He stopped behind her. “Aelin.” “I am sorry.” She said in a voice that broke his heart. “Can I sit down beside you?” She patted the spot on the sand beside her, but never turned to face him. Rowan sat down beside her and noticed she was staring out to the sea. Her eyes were puffy and anger resurged in him. “I am sorry… I din’t mean…” she leaned her head on his shoulder and her crying resumed. His arm went around her and pulled her closer and rocked her in silence. “He made me so mad.” And another sob rippled through her “I am so tired of hurting for him.” Rowan wanted to say something but at the moment he had nothing that could help her. “I gave him ten years of my life. Ten. And it just went down the toilet.” She breathed in deeply and tried to regain some control “what’s the point in falling in love. It just ends in pain anyway.” Rowan froze at those words. She could not be really thinking about giving up on them. Aelin stare met his “Even us. What’s the point? Knowing my luck you’ll grow tired of me in a few years and bugger off to a new woman.” Rowan kissed her “No.” He said cupping her face and forcing Aelin to stare at him “No. I understand that right now you are in pain, but you can’t give up on us.” And he kissed her again to make his point “I don’t know what fate has decided for us, but I know that I will do my very best to make you happy. You are my everything and I am not giving up on you. Don’t even think about it.” “You say that now—“ He stopped her “Aelin I know my feelings. I am in this for the long run. I love you. And I have never been surer of my feeling in my life. You have to believe me.” “I am scared.” She confessed, snuggling to him “What if we are going too fast? We have known each other for only a few months. We already live together and share the same bed. We said to each other things that people who have been going out for a few months don’t usually say. I am terrified.” She looked up at him, fearing the hurt she would see in his eyes. His hands never left her face “I am scared too. After Lyria left me I told myself never again. I was willing to be on my own forever because I could not cope with the idea of committing so much again. And then you appeared in my life and all my resolutions went to hell.” A gentle kiss on her lips “I have the same fears as you. I love you. Madly” then he smiled at her “If we were in a fantasy we would now confess each other we are soulmates and I would praise our love with an epic speech.” “But we are not…” she added sadly. “No, but it doesn’t change what I feel for you. The fact that no matter how crazy it sounds, I am sure about us. Somehow my soul is telling me you are its missing half. And it frightens me, but I am not giving up on you just because I am scared.” Aelin caressed his face and stared at him in silence. “If you want to slow down, go back to your room or find your own place, I will understand.” She shook her head, tears flowing down her face “No. No, never. I am fine just the way things are. Chaol’s words hit me more that I was expecting. I thought I was over all the pain, but it looks I am not.” “You were not ready. You were not expecting him to come into our shop and say those horrible things to you.” He pulled her face to his chest and hugged her tight “I was terrified when you left. I thought I lost you somehow. And it was the scariest feeling ever.” “I thought about breaking up with for a minute. I was trying to convince myself that not being attached to anyone was the better option. Then I tried to picture not having you at my side and I was even more scared, because I can’t.” “I almost punched him.” Confessed Rowan, lingering in the feeling of her body against his ��I have never punched anyone in my life but for him I would have made an exception.” He heard her chuckle and the ice gripping his heart finally thawed away. “That would have been a show I would have paid to see.” “I ruined your birthday.” She sniffled. “You did not. Police officer did. We just blame him.” He kissed her head “being here with you is perfect enough. You are my most precious present.” Aelin laughed “That is so cheesy.” He followed her “I know. I am shocked. See what you did to me?” He felt her hands cover his on her waist “You transformed me into a man who sings epic declarations of love and says cheesy things. You ruined me.” They were silent for a while and then Aelin spoke again. “Ro? I applied for a job as senior emergency surgeon.” She had applied for the job a few days before but hadn’t been able to tell him. It felt like a betrayal. He turned to her and smiled “Good.” “You are not mad at me?” He squeezed tighter “Why on earth? It sounds like an amazing opportunity and I could never be mad at you for choosing to do what you love.” “But the shop—“ “You don’t worry about the shop. Go, get the job and rattle the stars. I will be very proud of you.” “It feels like a betrayal.” And Rowan understood her uncertainty. “No it’s not. Not even close. You are not leaving me or abandoning me without reason. For as much as I hate the man, Chaol was right. Working in a bookshop is not for you. Not with the skills you have. The hospital will be very lucky to have someone with your experience.” And he meant it. Every single word. He wanted her to succeed “unlike some people, I am not scared of a successful woman at my side.” And she finally grinned at him and light reached her eyes still red from the tears. He kissed her forehead. “Ro?” “Yes?” “I am not in the mood for the ceilidh tonight. Can we just stay at home and watch Netflix or read? And snuggle?” “We can also order food and have a very quiet birthday evening. I would love that very much.” “Thank you. Rowan just kissed her. He’d do anything to make her happy. To make sure he could see that wonderful smile on her every single day of their life together. Then he finally stood “Come on. Get your arse off the sand and let’s go home. We have season five of Brooklyn nine nine to tackle.” She stood, stopped right in front of him and kissed him “I love you.”

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Random acts of kindness | Haikyuu!! Headcanons 』

The everyday acts of kindness our boys do and think nothing of, but are actually incredibly sweet.

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Kuroo Tetsurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Iwaizumi Hajime, Sugawara Koushi, Bokuto Koutarou, Azumane Asahi, Oikawa Tooru, Akaashi Keiji, Nishinoya Yuu, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, Kozume Kenma, Miya Astumu, Miya Osamu, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Hinata Shouyou, Kageyama Tobio, Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Haiba Lev

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), no warnings, fluff, lots of characters I didn't realise how many I'd done until I came to type up the list 😳, a lot of cats and dogs, cuteness, headcanons

A/N: I've had an exhausting and busy week, and just felt like writing some comforting fluff. Thanks for reading! Please enjoy! ♡

And please consider voting in this poll (ends this Sunday 18/10/20) to help me celebrate reaching 100 followers! Thank you to everyone who's already voted! ♡

☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆

Helps lost people find their way and regularly gives directions

We're talking off-duty, here Daichi puts the 'hot' in 'Hot Fuzz' 🥵

Hahaha, fuck 🙃

He's very approachable and warm, and gives excellent directions

He'll also walk them there if they don't understand or don't feel confident, even if it disrupts his day 🥺

And he's really good at helping lost kids and calming them down he feels so proud when he gets them back to their parents, safe and sound 🤗

×

☆ Kuroo Testurou ☆

Helps elderly people with their shopping bags and getting across roads

It goes against his nature to stand by and let an old person struggle, and even if they're not struggling, he always offers his services anyway

He has a soft spot for old people, 'kay? 🥺

He makes a point of getting the traffic to stop so it's safe, and letting them hold his arm as they slowly make their way across the street

They often tell him that he's 'a very sweet and handsome young man,' and 'nothing like the other young people you meet these days' and he blushes

×

☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆

Gets things from the top shelves for people that they can't reach at the supermarket

It's a pretty normal thing to do, right? So he's chill about it

Except he will 100% walk down the entire length of the isle just to help if he sees you stuggling it's super cute 😩😍

But he won't smile or make idle conversation, or anything. He'll just nod courteously

It can be a little ominous, with his looming height and serious face, but most people take the gesture well 😊

×

☆ Iwaizumi Hajime ☆

Pays for the shopping of the person in front of him when their card gets declined or they don't have the right cash

He manages to offer in a way that isn't offensive or patronising he's honestly a life saver 🥺

He's very humble and casual about it

It's what he hopes someone would do for him, if he were in that awkward situation

And you never know what struggles people are facing, so his philosophy is to always be kind what goes around, comes around, my dudes 😌✌

×

☆ Sugawara Koushi ☆

Leaves snacks and a cute thank you note on the porch for the mailman

Or mailwoman! Or mailperson!

He hopes that the little gesture will brighten their tough day of work so precious, I can't 🥺🥰

There's usually a good selection, too no skimping here, no sirree 😌

If he's home, he'll give them a cheery wave through the window as well

Especially in this COVID-19 environment. Suga would really appreciate the services they're providing

×

☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆

Spends time every week playing with the cats and dogs at the local shelters

This man is hoenstly a blessing, I physically can't 🤧

He loves seeing their little faces light up when he walks in, scruffling their ears and playing fetch, etc. and just generally showing them that they're still loved 🥺😭

And he helps take the dogs for walks too, so they get their exercise, and brushes them down, and rubs their tummies–

He wants to adopt, but he's not settled enough, so he knows he can't 😭 but it's his goal

One day 😖

×

☆ Azumane Asahi ☆

Always holds doors open for other people

We're not just talking the occasional, feebly held door

Asahi will ALWAYS hold a door open for anyone else

Men, women, children, old people, people with prams, whole families– literally everyone

He is TALL and STRONG, and he will be USEFUL

He will hold it open even if you're really far away, like the giant dork that he is 😂😂 you cannot escape

×

☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆

Often pays for the next customer's coffee in advance

Sure, it makes him feel good about himself. But, I mean, why not? What's so wrong with that?

Oikawa calls it SAOK-ing people (pronounced 'soaking') meaning: Secret Acts of Kindness Iwa-chan has told him to change the name, but he won't 🙄

Oikawa would love the touching joy of a stranger paying for his coffee in advance, so he gets a warm, tingly feeling when he thinks about it happening to someone else because if him he's literally beaming for the rest of the day 🥰

☆ Akaashi Keiji ☆

Buys food and drinks for homeless people when he passes them

He sometimes stops to have a chat with them, too 😔🤧

He's the least condescending person you could meet if you're in trouble he's so genuine, I can't

Except for maybe Iwa-chan and Daichi. They're also very down-to-earth

He'll also give them all his food vouchers that he's been collecting in his wallet to help spread their costs

Akaashi finds it hard to watch other people struggling and suffering, and so always makes the time for it when he can afford to

×

☆ Nishinoya Yuu ☆

Helps make up the numbers for the kids playing games in the park

Be it soccer, dodgeball, basketball, volleyball, tag, or something else entirely, Noya loves to see the kids running around in the park, playing games and enjoying themselves

So he's only too happy to join in when they need more players he'll sometimes recruit Tanaka to help as well

Yuu fits right in with them, both in height and mentality 😂😭😂😭

He may or may not get them to call him 'senpai' 🙄😂

×

☆ Tanaka Ryuunosuke ☆

Helps fix people's cars on the road

Tanaka's one of those people that knows how to change a flat, and so can't drive past someone having car trouble without stopping and helping

He's also a pretty good handy-man in general, and is always willing to help out his friends and neighbours with their jobs that need doing

Like plumbing problems, putting up shelves, building furniture, etc. He's good with his hands!

Kiyoko: 👁👄👁

And he'll never charge a penny! He's all too happy to do it out of friendship and the kindness of his heart 😇

×

☆ Kozume Kenma ☆

Hosts gaming charity livestreams for various causes on a regualr basis

All the donations go directly to the charity of choice for the stream, not through him, so everyone knows it's legit 😇

He also donates gaming consoles etc. to charities and organisations that help kids who are in hospital

He's a huge advocate for charities and organisations that focus on helping people through gaming, like AbleGamers and St Jude PLAY LIVE, and regularly donates to them

Honestly, Kenma is an angel 🥺 👉👈

×

☆ Miya Atsumu ☆

Gives up his seat on public transport for old/pregnant/disabled etc. people

Look, Tsumu can be a little selfish and grouchy at times, but he's not a complete asshole 👉👈

There's a line, and hogging seats on public transport when someone else clearly needs it more than him is, indeed, the line 😌

He'll do it without a second thought or a fuss, and with a smile on his face but will be low-key proud of himself, ngl

He will also get offended if someone else doesn't give up their seat when they should, and may confront them about it 😳 like, what makes you so special that you can't do that simple courtesy that even he does??

×

☆ Miya Osamu ☆

Donates food to charities and shelters

Both store-bought food and from his own shop

Literally gets so depressed at the thought of people not getting to eat 🥺

This man LOVES FOOD. And people are out there not able to?!

He also has a scheme set up where homeless and stuggling people can come into his shop for some free onigiri

This man 🥺🤧 can I please marry him already?!

×

☆ Sakusa Kiyoomi ☆

Donates sanitary supplies like soap, toothpaste, antibacterial gel, pads, tampons, etc. to shelters on a regualr basis

Literally cannot abide the idea that people are forced to live without these basic necessities, simply because they can't afford them

It's almost for his own peace of mind rather than theirs? 😅😂 almost. He does actually care on their behalf, too

But he doesn't like to make a big deal out of it, and so donates anonymously

His donations are literally a godsend to those people, though 🥺😭

☆ Hinata Shouyou ☆

Reads books to kids at the library when he's there with Natsu

And he's really good at it! He reads very animatedly, and really gets the kids engaged with the stories you can just imagine it

The kids all love him and bring him their favourite books to read!

And the parents all watch and compliment him on how good he is with kids

And this goofball just blushes and grins like a doof 😚 so freaking sweet

×

☆ Kageyama Tobio ☆

Always carries a spare umbrella with him to give to someone

He hates getting caught in the rain himself, so he keeps a spare just in case this precious baby 🥺

He's had to use it quite a few times, sometimes giving it to people he doesn't even know, so he ends up not getting it back and has to buy a new spare

But it makes him smile, if a bit awkwardly, to know that he's helped someone out, even just a little Tobio!! 😭🤧🥺

×

☆ Tsukishima Kei ☆

Steps into the road to allow room for people with pushchairs and prams

I know it might not seem like much, but this is Tsukki, guys 🙄

*Narrator voice* this is one small step for man, one giant leap for Tsukishima!

And this just goes to show that he's not as tough of a cookie as he looks

He doesn't like the idea of parents etc. and young children having to walk in the road he gets worried for them...🤭

And he does it consciously, which is important

×

☆ Yamaguchi Tadashi ☆

Spends time each week looking for the animals on the 'lost' and 'missing' posters around town

He hates to think of them out there, cold, alone, frightened–

It makes him feel nauseous just thinking about it 😣

My poor, precious baby!! He's too pure for this world!! 😭

It's not often, but sometimes he actually manages to find one and bring it back to its owner safely, which is a huge boost for his mood and confidence

He feels so valued and appreciated, and just happy that the little guy is SAFE 😇🤧

×

☆ Haiba Lev ☆

Helps strangers get their cats out of trees and other high places

What else is a tall, handsome, goofball-of-a stranger to do? 😌

Legit, he doesn't think twice. Tall people should use their height to help people, shouldn't they?

Sure, it doesn't always go to plan, and his arms sometimes end up looking like well-used scratching poles, but he's just glad to help 😇

It's good to see the cats safe and with their owners

♡°☆•♡°☆•♡

If you enjoyed, please consider voting in this poll (ends this Sunday 18/10/20) to help me celebrate reaching 100 followers! Thank you to everyone who's already voted!

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[jmnjmnjmn]

Eternal beings | Chapter 6

Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Human!Reader

Key words: supernatural, vampire.

Word count: less than 4,000

Warnings: swearing,  sadness, jealousy, mentions of murder

Inspo board

Masterlist

You felt drunk. Your body felt too heavy, your jacket felt too warm, your heart was beating slower than ever. You felt someone’s embrace around yourself and heard someone else speak. Or maybe it was the same person? You weren’t sure. You fluttered your eyelids and opened your eyes slowly just to be met with Jungkook's shocked stare. He was saying something, but his lips moved in slow motion. Slowly you put together what just happened. You started falling forward, but didn’t. You didn’t fall, because Jungkook caught you. “What a gentleman.” You thought and looked him in the eyes. “Wait, what?” You slowly understood the absurdity of your thoughts. “I’m dwelling on a deranged murderer?” You asked yourself and your eyes went wide. You pushed yourself away from his chest, shaking your head to clear it, but it only seemed to make you feel worse. 

“I don’t care what you have to say.” You mumbled, feeling dangerously close to throwing up.

“Wha- (Y/N).” He said in a stern tone. “Stop. Are you okay?” He pulled your arm again making you face him. He looked honestly astounded and concerned for you.

“I will be once you leave me alone.” You ripped your arm out of his embrace.

“We both know that’s not going to happen.” He said, his regular smile coming back onto his face. “Why?” You whined in your head. “Because.” He leaned towards you. “There’s something that we have in common that I’m not w-” 

“Whatever it is I don’t care.” You interrupted him and his confident demeanor dimmed. “I’m not going to stand here and listen to your bulshit s-” You were cut mid word by the sound of the shop door opening and another male voice.

“Hey. Is he bothering you?” You both turned to look at the speaker. Yoongi stepped out of the shop eying the two of you with suspicion. You felt the anger in you explode at the sight of his smug face.

“Fuck off.” The both of you spat at him and turned back to face each other, not sure whether to laugh at your synchronicity or keep bickering. 

“Just… Leave me be.” You spoke before Jungkook had a chance to and stormed off to the shop. As you went inside you cursed at your boss for putting a stopper on the door, because you would love to just slam it behind yourself. The overwhelming anger at both Jungkook and Yoongi made the fear and confusion take the back seat in your mind. You walked into the backroom to leave your bag and jacket, thought running wild in your head. “How is Jimin dating Yoongi? He must be in some kind of conspiracy with Jungkook and he’s a murderer so-”

“Are my eyes deceiving me or did I just see you outside with Jungkook?” Jimin’s sweet tone pulled you out of the trance. You didn’t turn to face him and just put on your name tag. “Explain this to me, (Y/N). He asked Taehyung to stay the night yesterday even though he could’ve asked Yoongi and I. Why?” He digged, but you stayed silent. “You spent an awful long time in the hallway with him. Alone. In the dark. What were you doing?” He kept asking. “Fine. Don’t answer me, but don’t think Yoongi won't tell me later everything he hears from Jungkook.” He said in a nonchalante tone pretending that your silence doesn’t bother him.

“While we’re on that topic.” You said as a brilliant idea came to you. “Could you give me his number?” Since Yoongi and Jungkook are probably in cahoots about this murder you can harras Yoongi about it. Because he was dating Jimin and you sort of knew him he seemed a little bit less intimidating than Jungkook who admitted to you that he ate a man.

“Jungkook’s?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yoongi’s.” You specified and he furrowed his brows.

“Why?” Jimin asked as you walked past him out of the break room.

“I have some questions for him.” You tried to dance around the topic.

“Regarding?” Jimin asked, but before giving you a chance to answer he did it for you. “Jungkook, right?” His tone got higher in pitch with excitement.

“Well… Yes.” You dragged your words. Jimin chuckled and you saw him smile brightly as you turned to face him.

“I have a good feeling about you two.” He said, putting a finger to his chin as if he was deep in thought imagining your’s and Jungkook’s relationship. It made you gag slightly. “I’ll text you his number.” He added and pulled out his phone. A second later you had Yoongi’s number saved in your phone. You wished you had something to make him side with you and give up any information about Jungkook and their shady relationship, but you didn’t have anything other than the fact that you just jumped on him in front of the shop for trying to help you get rid of Jungkook. Despite the bad feeling you had in your stomach about the whole thing you decided upon not wasting time and texted Yoongi to meet up.

You were busy tidying up the alcohol aisle when Jimin called your name. You peaked around the shelves and saw him waving his arm for you to join him by the TV.

“There’s more information on the case you’re involved with.” He said, making space for you to get behind the counter closer to the TV. You glued your eyes to the speaker on the news hoping to see Jungkook’s face pop up.

“Recent discoveriesmade in the case of (Victim’s name)’s murder forced the police to hand the case over to the Federal Beauro of Investigation. Today’s statement made by the FBI says that Mr (Victim’s name) was affiliated with various international crime organisations against whomst the FBI is currently investigating. Many links were found between Mr (Victim’s name) and organizations involved in the illegal arms, drugs and other substances trade in our country as well as-” You stopped listening wondering what that meant in your case. Or more precisely in Jungkook’s. If he killed- ate that man… Was he still the bad guy? Or was he one of the international bad guys? You started to get overwhelmed by the questions piling in your head when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket.

“6 o’clock. Seventh Ave 3458. Take the elevator to the 17th floor.” You read the cold sounding message and cursed under your breath, remembering you had online classes at that time. “Too bad.” You shrugged. “I will have to catch up with the studying later.”

-

Seventh Avenue was not more than five kilometers further from the city than your apartment, but the neighbourhood was totally different. There were many cafes and office buildings in the area. You felt a little out of place rocking a pair of old ripped jeans and a band tshirt when everyone around you looked so dapper and fashionable in their suits. It was nearing six when you finally found the building numbered 3458. You pushed the heavy glass door and headed for the elevator. You pushed the “up” button and checked the text Yoongi sent you. “17th floor” You read for a millionth time. Your heart was beating faster than ever. “Am I going to his house? His office?” You wondered, pressing the silver seventeen button inside the elevator. “Is this one of those fancy buildings in which the elevator takes you straight to the person’s apartment?” You didn’t have time to make any more assumptions about Yoongi or his building, because when the elevator door opened on the seventeenth floor you saw Yoongi, already waiting for you in the corridor.

“I could hear your heartbeat all the way from downstairs.” He said and without any further explanations started walking down the hallway towards the open door at the far end of it. You followed right behind him, making a mental note to yourself about keeping your heartbeat slow and quiet from now on. “Your heart’s still beating.” He said stopping at the door and looking you up.

“I would hope so.” You answered back, immediately thinking it came out snarky and rude, but Yoongi didn’t seem to think so as he half laughed half exhaled loudly and shook his head. His relaxed reaction to your comment made you calm down slightly.

“Come in.” He showed you towards the door. As you walked in you heard voices behind one of the doors you saw to your left and couldn’t help, but feel a little surprised. “Does he have guests? Roommates?” You wondered as you heard Yoongi lock the door behind the two of you. “No going back now.” You thought. “Through here.” Yoongi said, walking down the thin hallway scattered with shoes. As you walked behind him you peaked through one of the doors. It was a small bedroom with nothing, but a bed and a hanging rack. It was messy with clothes and other items laying on the floor. The large glass windows in that bedroom, going all the way up to the ceiling from the ground, and the tiny hallway made you sure this was an office turned into an apartment with bedrooms to let for cheap. Yoongi led you to a kitchen located at the end of the apartment. “Tea?” He asked and you hummed in agreement. Looking at him in this scenery you didn’t feel so scared anymore. The kitchen was small and cramped, meant to be used sporadically by office workers and not daily by various tenants. There were many magnets scattered messily on the tall door of the fridge and unwashed dishes in the sink.

“I assume you wanted to meet because of Jungkook.” He said while preparing the drinks with his back turned towards you. You sat at the small table in the corner of the and sighed slightly. “Where do I start with this?” You thought.

“Well... Who is he?” You asked after deciding to begin with one of the bigger questions lingering in your head. Yoogi set two cups of hot tea on the table and sat down on the opposite end of the table. “What did he do with (Victim’s name) and why?” You added before giving him a chance to answer your first question. “And why did he stay at Taehyung’s last night? You know he followed me to work this morning?” You would keep spitting out questions if Yoongi hadn’t raised his hand to stop you.

“Let me speak and I’ll tell you everything you need to know about him and this whole… Ordeal.” He said tiredly. You leaned back in your chair and exhaled loudly. As you did that you heard a door screech somewhere in the hallway. You looked over your shoulder and noticed a tall man walking towards the kitchen with a confident look on his face.

“Yoongi.” He said, passing through the doorway. “You didn’t say you would be bringing people over.” He extended his hand towards you to shake it and so you did. “I’m Jin.”

“(Y/N).” You introduced yourself and he smiled warmly at you. Jin leaned back on the kitchen counter with his hands in his pockets and nothing but amusement in his eyes as he eyed you up and down.

“We don’t often have visitors here.” You heard Yoongi inhale sharply. “Especially of your kind.” Jin added and you tilted your head not really getting his point. “I mean human.”

“It’s better we talk in my room.” Yoongi tried interrupting him, but you heard what he said. “Human.” You repeated in your head. Yoongi stood up with his tea in hand. “Human.” You did the same and followed him out of the kitchen back down the thin hallway. 

“It was nice to meet you.” Jin said before you left the room.

“You too.” You said not really sure whether you meant it or not. Yoongi led you to the door next to the messy room you peeked into earlier. His bedroom was the same size, had the same tall windows and a double bed, but that’s about all the similarities you could count. The room was clean and dimly lit with only a small desk lamp on. Opposite to the bed stood a small desk and an even smaller dresser with lots of shelves hanging over them. Yoongi had his laptop open on the bed and you noticed his screen saver was a selfie he took with Jimin. “Especially of your kind. I mean human.” Jin’s words echoed through your head as you sat down on the chair by the desk, holding the hot cup of tea in your lap. Yoongi sat down on the bed cross-legged.

“What did he mean by human?” You asked, looking through the window at the setting sun’s reddish rays reflecting from the shiny buildings outside. He sighed.

“He meant exactly that.” He said in a heavy tone and you looked at him. not looking at you. “Humans don’t often come here.” He explained, but you still didn’t quite get it. “We’re not human.” He kept going, glancing at you to check whether you already caught on. “We’re different. Jin, Jungkook, me… There’s others too.” You furrowed your brows, not really following his point. “We’re vampires.” You scoffed, unable to contain yourself. You could believe anything, anything but that.

“Vampires?” You said in disbelief. “Right… And I’m the queen of England.” You added sarcastically.

“(Y/N), I’m serious.” He said, setting his cup down and finally making eye contact with you. “We’re... Not like you. We’re… Well, I don’t know how else to explain this to you.” He basically spat out the last couple of words, his tone indicating his quickly rising frustration. “I told you the truth. It’s up to you to decide  whether to believe it or not.” He said with spite and crossed his arms on his chest. You looked at him with something between disbelief and pity. He looked like a pouting baby sitting like that on the bed. “And I’m supposed to believe him?” You asked yourself and shook your head.

“So according to your vampire theory-” You started sceptically.

“It’s not a theory.” Yoongi interrupted you immediately.

“Okay. According to you-” You tried again.

“It’s not just me, (Y/N).” He added, annoyed.

“Will you let me speak?” You asked him, trying to appear calm and collected. He raised his hands letting you speak again. “If I were to believe what you just told me it would make you, Jungkook and that Jin guy from the kitchen vampires, right?” You couldn’t comprehend why you even entertained the idea of this.

“Right.” Yoongi agreed.

“How does that explain what Jungkook did or didn’t do to (Victim’s name)?” You asked him, hoping for something more than just a silly sounding vampire theory.

“You see, here is where it gets tricky.” Yoongi said, scratching his forehead. “Can it get any trickier?” You asked yourself tiredly. “That guy was close with someone who Jungkook was in a… Dispute with many years ago.” Yoongi’s careful choosing of words made you suspect he wasn’t telling you everything, but you let him go on without interruption. “So to finish his vendetta against that second person, who by the way was not a good person at all, he killed, or as he said, ate (Victim’s name).” 

“Oh-kay.” You had a hard time imagining Jungkook as some kind of an avenger. “And by ate you mean…” You elongated the last word to let Yoongi finish this ridiculous story.

“He drained him of blood by drinking it.” He said and you felt your stomach rise to your throat. You swallowed loudly and decided to ask him another question.

“One more thing. Where does that put me?” You asked honestly.

“What do you mean?” Yoongi frowned at your unspecific question.

“Well, Jungkook said something to me this morning. He seems to think that we have something important to him in common.” Yoongi perked up at your words. “I have no idea what that could be and frankly I don’t want to find out. Is there any way you could get him off my case?” You didn’t feel hopeful about your request to Yoongi, but you had to ask. Any help in getting Jungkook away from you was welcome at this point.

“Honestly (Y/N)... No.” You felt a weight come over your shoulders as he denied you. “If he thinks there’s something between you two-”

“There’s nothing there! I don’t even know him!” You called out in frustration.

“Listen, if he feels that there’s something…” Yoongi shook his head. “I can’t do anything about it.” He said looking you in the eye. The dim light coming from the lamp behind you combined with the shine of the setting sun outside made his pupils shimmer with a golden hue. “The two of you will have to deal with that yourselves, but (Y/N)... Trust me when I say he’s not dangerous. If what you say is true…” He sighed deeply. “If what you say is true he won’t hurt you.” For some reason his confidence in Jungkook’s good faith didn’t make you feel more reassured. Actually it only made you question everything even more. “Is there anything else I can tell you or do for you?” Yoongi asked. “Vampires…” You repeated in your head. “He’s crazy. He lost his mind…” You thought looking at him with slight pity in your eyes. His intentions seemed sincere so you decided to dig a little more, though you didn’t expect to get much sense out of whatever he said.

“Yeah… What is this place exactly?” You asked him. “Some kind of a vampire layer?” You added in your head. Yoongi’s expression hardened and as you apparently chose a topic he wasn’t too comfortable talking about.

“I guess you could call this our headquarters.” He muttered clearly not wanting to talk about it.

“Vampire headquarters…” You repeated to yourself. “Nice…”

“There’s a lot about us that you don’t know and a lot that you shouldn’t.” He quickly added after hearing the scepticism in your voice. “A lot of us- A lot…” He stammered. You saw him like this for the first time. He looked so vulnerable. You used to perceive his quietness as a sign of being bored or above everyone else, but now you realised it was a sign of shyness. Yoongi was more sensitive than everyone thought. “Maybe even more sensitive than Jimin.” You wondered. “We like to stick together. Vampires, I mean.” You only nodded not wanting to upset him with your words or tone, but one more question kept coming back to you and before you could stop yourself you were already opening your mouth to speak.

“Can you tell me more about Jungkook?” You weren’t sure whether you actually spoke or just thought the question, but Yoongi reacted by looking up at you so he surely heard you. “How is he?” You thought to yourself, but quickly snapped out of the weird feeling that came over you as you said his name.

“What exactly do you want to know about him?” Yoongi asked you. “Him… Where is he?” You wondered and looked out the window. “Stop.” You scolded yourself. “Think straight. Answer his question.” You told yourself and looked back at Yoongi who was looking at you with curiosity. “Are you okay?” You heard him say, but his mouth didn’t move. “Answer him.” You ordered yourself.

“I’m fine.” You shook your head a little to clear it, but it only made you feel dizzy.

“I didn’t ask about your wellbeing.” Yoongi said in a low voice and tilted his head trying to read you. You put one of your hands on your forehead to dratch it, it was burning. You scratched your neck and breathed in slowly trying your hardest to collect your thoughts and form a proper sentence.

“Jungkook, said something to me this morning.” Suddenly you felt really warm so you undid the top button of your striped blue shirt and scratched your throat. You looked around for an AC unit or something that could’ve made the temperature in the room rise so abruptly. “He was talking to me, but I wasn’t saying anything.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asked, his curiosity and amusement levels rising with each second of looking at you. You looked distressed and confused breathing slowly and looking around every now and then for something only you could see.

“He seems to think he can read my mind.” You explained resting your elbows on your knees and your head between your hands. 

“Yeah, that can happen.” You fluttered your eyelids, trying your hardest to not to let them close. “Some of us are better at that than others, but if Jungkook and you have… Certain commonalities it might be easier for him to hear you think.” Yoongi explained and for some sick reason it made sense to you at that moment. Not just that Jungkook could read your mind, but also that him and Yoongi were vampires. “I guess it makes sense.” You thought and nodded slowly, your head still in your hands. “It does.” Yoongi’s voice echoed in your head. You looked down at the beige carpet underneath your sneakers and felt a pinch in the back of your brain. “No… That’s not right.” You thought and looked back up at Yoongi. He had a small smile on his face, but he looked unsure. The sudden sound of your ringtone made you come back to your senses. You pulled your phone out to see Tahyung’s photos spread across your lock screen. You swiped right to answer the call and put the phone to your ear wishing Taehuyng didn’t have his license suspended and could pick you up right this moment.

“Hey. I’m on my way home.” He sounded just as tired as you were right now. “You want McDonalds for dinner?” His question seemed so genuine and real after what you heard from Yoongi. “Vampires, vendettas, mind reading… Yeah, right.” You thought rolling your eyes slightly.

“Yes. Get me a BigMac, would you?”

“Okay. I’ll be home at eight.” He answered and you averted your eyes towards your watch. “What time is it?” You wondered. You were shocked to realise it was nearing half past seven. “Did I really spend over an hour here?”

“See you then.” You said and ended the call. “I have to get going.” You picked up your bag and stood up, but Yoongi didn’t bother to do the same.

“You know where the door is.” He simply stated and reached for his laptop quickly coming back to his usual cold seeming self. You nodded and walked out onto the hallway. Your hand was already on the handle of the front door when someone opened it from the other side.

“Oh. Hello.” Said the guy on the outer side of the door pulling it towards himself. His expression grew softer as he took in your appearance. “I don’t believe we’ve met.” He took a step to get inside the apartment and you took a step back to let him pass you by. “I’m Namjoon.” He extended his hand towards you and somehow you felt it was some kind of trap.

“Go home, (Y/N).” Your head snapped back towards Yoongi’s bedroom door where he was standing eying Namjoon suspiciously.

“Goodbye.” You simply stated before walking out of the apartment with your gut telling you you just avoided something dangerous.

[frustratedpoetwrites]

Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter Ten, George’s miscalculation 

 read on AO3 here

I do realise this is is the third thing I have put out in as many days and that kind of production level is unheard of for me haha.

This has a little bit of NSFW stuff right at the beginning of the chapter so I’m going to put it all under the read more line.

Warnings, NSFW and Overdose.

Bill slid a hand through his wife’s long silky hair as she continued to use her mouth to pleasure him. They had always enjoyed making love in the mornings, but lately Fleur had been unhappy with him and not been so receptive. But this morning she had chosen to take the initiative, and Bill was in no position to stop her, not that he ever wanted to stop his incredible witch.

He closed his eyes and bit his lip, concentrating hard, it was almost a relief when she sat up gracefully and mounted him, sliding down his girth and gasping at the sensation, massaging him from the inside, he raised his hands to her breasts her ivory skin almost luminous in the pre-dawn light, sliding his roughened hands down her body to stimulate her more. She swore elegantly in French as his fingers swirled around her sweet spot, riding him a little harder. He could always tell when she was completely lost in the moment when she reverted back to her native language. He wanted control and went to flip them over but she shook her head pushing him back down stopping him. He growled a little and she laughed deeply and throatily, then gasped and swore again as he twisted his hips slightly increasing the pressure on her body. When she wanted to take charge he just had to lie back and take it and do his best to control himself so her pleasure did not end too quickly. He was having more trouble than he normally did keeping his body calm, her soft moans were getting stronger, he could feel his body winding up despite his efforts to keep control. 

“Fleur.” He gasped, letting her know he would not be able to last much longer.

“J’suis proche.” She breathed back to him, he grabbed one of her breasts roughly tweaking the nipple and he knew she was there as her hips moved with less control. “Mon amour, oh mon dieu!” The feel of her climax tipped him over the edge and he could no longer hold on, he gripped her hips in his hands as he emptied himself. She collapsed onto his chest breathing heavily.

Bill kissed the top of her head as they later rested together, her head in the crook of his shoulder, one leg lying over his.

“Not that I am complaining,” he started gently rubbing a hand along her back. “But what did I do to stop you from being cross with me?” She moved slightly so she could look up at him, her deep blue eyes sparkling.

“I have been thinking about family, about why you want to have children now. I am happy you did not tell your mother the truth about why we were having the argument”

“It’s none of their business.” He replied simply running a hand through her silvery tresses, her hair felt like liquid as it slipped quickly through his fingers.

“As you say,” She agreed. “perhaps I have been selfish to think that a baby would spoil what we have. I love our house. The life we have together. I do not want to stop being me, just yet.”

“You made that clear to me my love, and I understand. I was being unreasonable to expect you to stop working and start a family straight away. If you want to wait I am okay with that.”

“Merci my love, but I am not sure that I do want to wait for much longer. When I saw Teddy my heart just melted for that sweet child.”

“You really want us to start trying?” His heart leapt at the thought but he tried to keep the hope out of his voice. Her reasons to wait had been perfectly valid, and his assumptions had been more than a little behind the times. When she had stormed off to Hogwarts to see her friend, leaving him angry and confused, and more than a little bit jealous. It had been a bit of a wake-up call for him. He remembered his siblings as children, had helped his mother with looking after them, and he had always assumed that all witches wanted to have children as soon as they were married. Of course, they had not wanted to while there was such darkness in the world, but when they were finally free to live again it had been top on his list of priorities. It had been until he told his wife this.

“Perhaps not trying. Perhaps no longer preventing?” He understood her meaning and felt it was something he definitely could be on board with. He loved the time he had to spend just the two of them, but he also missed the joy and madness of a house full of children. He kissed her deeply letting her know how happy he was that she had changed her mind. 

 *

  Harry and Ron had been so busy the last few months leading up to christmas, actually being told to stop and take a break had been quite a shock for them. Keeping busy had been something they could both focus on, but it was nice to have Hermione and Ginny home for a while.

They all knew how difficult Christmas was going to be this year, difficult in completely different ways for each of them. Harry and Hermione hadn’t even had a Christmas last year, they had both been rather shaken up from their visit to Godric’s Hollow to even care what day it was. Ron himself had been too filled with guilt and remorse that day to think about anything past his missing friends, until he had heard his name from the deluminator and found another level of determination and purpose. He wanted to make this one a bit more special for all of them. 

He was planning to leave Hermione’s house early on the Monday before Christmas, they had got up and had breakfast together but he insisted he needed to go to Diagon Alley alone. There had been no point pretending he was doing anything other than Christmas shopping, it wouldn’t have taken Hermione’s brains to figure that out. 

“So do I get any clues as to what you are buying me this year?” Hermione asked as they sat at the kitchen table at her parent’s house, she was wearing casual muggle trousers she had called leggings with a giant jumper that was almost as long as a dress, and thick fluffy knitted socks. One foot was resting on the seat of her chair and she was half hugging her leg as she read the profit. He had glanced at the headline when the owl had delivered it, but knew if there was anything significant he needed to know, his girlfriend would tell him. He was already wrapped up against the cold December air, his Gryffindor scarf wound tightly around his neck and party obscuring his face. He leaned over and kissed the top of her head fondly. 

“And spoil the surprise?” He chuckled. “Let me know something my girlfriend doesn’t for a little while longer.” She pulled his head down to give him a proper kiss, moving his scarf out of the way. 

“Don’t be all day, I will miss you.” He cleared his throat at her suggestive tone, and considered shopping another day, but he had made arrangements with and he couldn't change them now. 

What she didn’t know was that his Christmas shopping was already done and he was planning on spending the day organising something special for the family with George. He had been trying his best to spend more time with his closest brother. George was working too hard, and drinking too much, especially now that Angelina had started her new job and was spending a lot of her time away from him. George kept trying to play down his relationship but Ron knew how much he missed her when she was not around. Ron had been helping in the shop when his Auror training would allow it, he could now create many of the products that sat on the shelves without any trouble at all. George had actually been impressed with how quickly he had picked up the somewhat tricky recipes. He had told him without any hint of sarcasm.

The air was crisp and cold as Ron made his way towards the joke shop from the leaky caldron, frost still clung to the fabric awnings and shaded corners of the cobbled street, his breath fogging the air. It had taken him longer to leave Hermione’s house than he had originally planned. They had showered together for an exquisitely long time that morning. 

As he walked along the colourfully decorated streets still thinking about how wonderful his girlfriend was, he stopped at a little bakery and bought a couple of bacon rolls for himself and his brother, who no doubt was still asleep and would have nothing in his kitchen apart from coffee and fire whiskey. Biting into his own snack he continued on his short journey.

The brightly painted shop caught the eye from a distance and Father Christmas in his reindeer pulled sleigh was still whizzing around the shop window. Snow was falling from the roof of the building and disappearing as soon as it landed on the pavement. The effect of the whole thing was brilliant. Portable snow was another new product that George had perfected. Ron suppressed a slight agitation as the lock did not open as he placed his hand on the doorknob. George had said he would add him to the building security, but not yet it seemed. Taking his wand he muttered the password at the lock and heard it click. The door chimed Ho Ho Ho as he entered but apart from that the shop was eerily quiet without the noise of customers. Snow fell inside too but only on the large Christmas tree that dominated the centre of the shop it’s branches decorated with an array of products. Remembering to lock the door behind him he took the stairs two at a time. 

“George!” He yelled opening the flat’s front door. “Hey, George get up you lazy arse I’ve got you some breakfast.” The paper bag dropped to the floor as he saw the body of his brother lying face down behind the sofa. 

  *

                   Harry was enjoying himself this morning, feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks, due to the positive influence of Ginny. He was sitting on his new broom wrapped up against the cold watching her fly. It had been so long since he had flown, the long summer they had spent together seemed ages ago. Of course then they had been able to fly in just shorts and t-shirt but now it was definitely warm jumpers hats and scarves weather and the bulky clothing was restricting his movement. He had been tempted to take off his coat more than once but he was not working hard enough to stay warm without it, and a warming charm would more than likely overheat him the way he was feeling right now. He had only stopped to grab a drink, but he couldn’t take his eyes from watching Ginny. She always looked amazing on a broomstick, she was fast, confident, and graceful. He knew he had flying skills of his own but he had not been practicing like she had. She was flying rings around him today, literally. She was laughing as she pulled her broomstick up beside him and deftly caught the water bottle he threw at her. They were hovering over the paddock at the back of the Burrow. The air was crisp but still, a hard frost still covered the ground, the winter sun was barely above the horizon. He manoeuvred his broom a little closer so he could wrap his arm around her. 

“You are flying brilliantly,” He told her honestly, kissing her temple. “I was struggling to keep up with you. I am so out of practice.”

“And here I was thinking you were going easy on me.” She laughed. “Hopefully we can convince everyone else to play when they are all here later.” He nodded his agreement, then before she was ready shot off towards the other side of the paddock. Before he was even half way there she had caught up, her hair streaming behind her as she beamed at him. He considered his options for a split second before Ginny decided for him and turned her broom sharply cutting his path, he barely managed to change his direction in time. He was about to give chase again when a silver flash and Ron’s jack Russell was running around his head. 

“George is at St Mungo’s please come, bring mum, tell everyone!” Ron’s voice had sounded calm but his agitation was evident by the behaviour of his patronus before it vanished. They wasted no time in discussing with each other what could have happened, they both dived for the ground, Ginny running into the house while Harry put their brooms away quickly. He rushed inside when he heard Mrs Weasley cry out in shock. Ginny had an arm around her mother’s shoulders and was leading them to the fireplace. 

“Can you go get Dad from work? I will call everyone else from the hospital.” He nodded at her and watched them walk into the green flames before running back outside and apparating to the ministry. 

  *

  Angelina stumbled out of the floo at St Mungo’s and would have fallen on the floor if not for a strong hand grabbing her elbow until she could catch her balance. 

“Thanks.” she said politely then recognised the green eyes staring back at her and pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back a little awkward with this rather tactile greeting. She usually enjoyed putting her old teammate off balance but this was not the time, she just needed a hug. “I came as soon as I could. I've been worried sick. What happened? Can I see him?” Harry opened his mouth to answer but stepped aside as he spotted someone else approaching.

“Angelina!” Ginny yelled and barrelled into her hugging her fiercely. “Come on he was asking for you.” She grabbed her hand and pulled her towards one of the wards walking quickly. Harry took her bag and followed without a word. “The bloody idiot’s been taking the draft of peace to help him sleep, he mixed it with fire whiskey last night. If Ron hadn’t been going to see him I don’t know what would have happened.” She explained then started grumbling under her breath muttering more insults to her brother’s intelligence, anger flushing her cheeks. If Ginny was this angry with her brother it was doubtful he was still seriously hurt. “They revived him and pumped his stomach. The healers say he will have to stay in for a few days until his levels are properly balanced, whatever that means.” She stopped for a moment and turned her attention on Angelina. “Did you know he was self medicating? He brewed his own potion, it’s supposed to be taken under medical advice. He made it far too strong.” She closed her eyes for a moment, the fear for her brother coming to the surface. “Why could I not see? I should have helped him more.” 

 “I didn’t know he was taking it, I promise. We enjoy a few drinks when we spend evenings together but it is never to the point of passing out, nothing stronger than beer.” She looked at her friends kindly. Harry was now holding Ginny as if she would fall if he didn’t, she accepted his embrace without comment resting her head on his chest. Angelina suppressed a pang of jealousy for their relationship, they were so openly in love it was sweet. However it was hard to watch when you were desperately in love yourself and having to hold it back for fear of rejection. “You didn’t see it, because he didn’t want you to. He is stubborn with his grief.” She didn’t add that every Weasley she knew was equally stubborn but catching Harry’s eye she knew he had caught the unsaid sentiment.

Angelina saw the crowd of redheads up ahead and knew that George would be behind the one door on this stretch of corridor. They were all looking towards it in concern as they huddled together. Ron was sitting on a flimsy hospital chair, his hands laced behind his bowed head. Hermione sat beside him rubbing his back in a way that said she had been trying to comfort him for a while with little success. Everyone else was standing around, Fleur was comforting Molly in a very role reversal way holding her close and rubbing her back. Arthur was off to one side speaking with a tall wizard dressed in the unmistakable robes of a healer, Percy stood by his father's side paying close attention to what was being said. Bill stood as if on guard by the door his arms crossed his wand in his hand. Ginny walked her past them all. 

“He kicked us all out.” Bill stated going to stop their progress, Ginny just glared up at her oldest brother who actually shyed back slightly at her look. Angelina was always amazed at how easily the tiny form of Ginny could overpower her brothers with nothing more than her presence and a glare. Bill seemed to be weighing his options before he shrugged and stood aside, “Well don’t blame me if he throws things at you, I gave you fair warning.” 

“He won’t kick me out.” Angelina said confidently. “If he tries I will kill him myself.” Ginny gave her another hug and opened the door, letting her go on alone.

The room she entered was quiet, George’s was the only occupied bed, the other was stripped to the bare mattress. He was propped up on pillows with a tube running from his arm up to a bag containing clear liquid. His eyes were closed but she knew he was awake, his right hand would occasionally move or twitch with his constant nervous energy. The only time she knew he was ever completely still was when he was sleeping. She moved to stand at the foot of his bed. He looked pale under his freckles, his cheekbones were more prominent than she remembered the last time she had seen him. His hair was getting long and it looked unwashed, she wondered if he had eaten a proper meal since she had left.

“You know there are less dangerous ways to get my attention. If you wanted to see me you should have just Owled.” She told him firmly placing hands on hips. 

“Angie?” He croaked, his voice a bare whisper, his eyes staying closed. “Are you really there? I have been dreaming of you. You can’t be here, you should be in Montrose. I am not worth losing your new job. This is nothing, just a little miscalculation.”

“I always knew you were a fool but I did not think you were a bloody idiot too.” She had not taken a step closer to the bed, her feet felt like lead. She disliked hospitals greatly, unfortunately it was an inevitable part of Quidditch, and hospitals always reminded her of her mother’s battle and its eventual inevitable end. She had been only thirteen when she lost her mum, a difficult time for her and her dad, especially trying to cope with a confused girl going through puberty. Fred and George had cheered her up without ever knowing they were doing it, their friendship had been so important to her growing up. It had meant the most that first September after her mother’s passing.

Fred had always been the more confident twin, although few had ever bothered to notice, he had asked her out for the Yule ball. They’d had a great time together and had shared a few kisses, but the rest of the time he spent it telling her how great George would be for her, and she had silently agreed with him. George had never asked her out, he had just watched her with his big puppy dog eyes when he thought she was not paying attention. Any time she thought he would finally ask her, Fred would start to flirt outrageously, making her laugh, and his brother would back off with a sigh. It had been like that the whole time they were at school. Then one day last April, when everything was getting really frightening he had turned up at her door and they had connected in a way they never had before and started snogging right there without the need for words. Perhaps it was the fear of possibly dying tomorrow that they had ended up in bed perhaps that had just been an excuse, either way she would never regret it. “I thought we were just casual anyway, just a bit of fun you said.” She didn’t want him to know how deeply her feelings truly ran. She was terrified he would back off and shut her out. She alone fully knew how much he was hurting, how much he was refusing to admit to even himself that he was. She hoped that this would be a wakeup call for him to accept the help of his amazing family, to admit to himself he was not okay. 

“Oh Angie, if only you knew how much you mean to me. I’ve liked you for so long. Fred said I should not waste a day, if I liked you I should tell you. Why can’t I do that?” She went to answer him and convince him she really was standing right there but he continued to speak. “It’s not me you want, not really. Fred’s gone so I am the runner up prize.” The bitterness in that statement was unquestionable. 

“Blind as well as stupid.” She murmured, finally moving to his bedside. “I like you, I have always liked you. I miss Fred too, but he was my friend. It’s you I want to be with.” She took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his. His eyes fluttered open as she did so, the arm without a tube in it tried to hug her.

“You really are here?” He breathed. “I love you.” She could not stop the grin that spread over her face at his words. 

“You have a funny way of showing it.” She scolded mildly before kissing him again. “I love you too and if you ever try to kill your self again I will kill you.” 

“It was a mistake, I don’t want to kill myself.” He slid the back of his hand against her cheek. “Why is it so difficult to be taken seriously? I try so hard to be okay, it’s exhausting. When I go to bed I don’t sleep, not without a little help, I thought it couldn’t hurt. Instead I have hurt everyone, including myself.” 

“You had me worried sick you bastard.”

“The healer who treated me wants me to come in regularly. I am going to do it. Fred would be very upset if I worked myself to death, even if it was to keep our dream alive.”

“Fred would want you to be happy.”

“I know, but I never thought I would have to be happy without him.” She kissed him again more gentle this time, and pressed her forehead to his. 

“When my mum died so many people would say to me. She’s not really gone as long as you continue to love and remember her. I tried to believe it but most of the time I thought it was bullshit. But then when we won the house cup in fifth year and everyone was so happy. I thought I felt her there with me, for just a moment. It will never go away, but it gets easier to carry, and sometimes you have to let others help you too.”

“I will, I promise.” His eyes were a little bloodshot but they looked at her with such sincerity she knew it was true. They were going to be better together, there was a long way to go but he was definitely headed down a better path. 

 *

  Charlie floo’d home from the international port key department to find an empty house. 

“Mum? Dad?” He called to no reply. His concerns started to grow as he saw the abandoned mugs of tea still sitting on the kitchen table. His mother would never leave dishes unwashed. He walked to his mother’s clock, every hand apart from his own was pointing at St Mungo’s. “Fuck.”

Dropping his bag in the middle of the kitchen he Apparated right there. He rushed over to the welcome witch who gave him a practiced smile. “My family is here. Where are they?”

“Do you know the patient's name sir?”

“Weasley.” He yelled

“Charlie?” Bill strode over to his brother and pulled him into a hug. “Sorry, with all the commotion, I forgot you were getting in today.”

                  “Who is it? What’s happened?” Charlie asked, still panicked despite how calm Bill appeared to be. Bill always appeared calm.

“It’s George but he’s okay, more embarrassed about it all if I’m honest” the taller brother laid his arm across the shorter’s broad shoulders and led him to a set of chairs. “We have all been busy with our own shit we didn’t notice how much he’s been struggling to cope. He overdosed on a very potent brewing of the draft of peace. Ron found him, he’s been keeping a closer eye on George and helping him out in the shop as much as he can. It could’ve been worse, he was only comatose for a few hours.”

“At least one of us is looking out for the rest.” Charlie stated glumly. Bill looked at him sharply.

“Hey! That’s not fair. He has been very good at pretending to be okay, and it’s not like any of us are coping much better. Losing Fred, I still can’t believe he is actually gone, I half expect him to appear one day claiming it was all an elaborate prank.” Charlie snorted at that. 

“Pretty poor taste.” Was all he said and Bill nodded his agreement. They sat in silence for a moment. Charlie wanted to go see George and the rest of the family but something about Bill’s body language made him stay and wait. Bill and Charlie had always kept in close communication, the only person he perhaps conversed with more with was Ginny because she always had all the news from everybody else, and she never criticised his life choices like he knew their mother would. Bill had always been his confidant, his adviser, the first time he’d ever got drunk it had been with his big brother, true it had been Bill's fault. Likewise it had been him who had first heard about Fleur and his nerves about introducing her to the family.

“It’s so good to see you, I miss you.” Bill spoke up eventually, Charlie just nodded. They were not the type to delve into deep and emotional conversations, for them this was the equivalent of holding on each other and weeping.

“It is not easy to be so far away from you all, especially right now, but I love my work, and I know I would not be any help if I hung around at home. I just don’t feel like I fit there anymore.”

“I admit I found it difficult living there when I came back from Egypt. Even more so when Fleur moved in too. Having our own space has really helped. Don’t guilt yourself into coming back. George is as fine as he can be considering. We are all going to take better care in looking out for him, and he has promised to get professional help. Your heart is in Romania, with your dragons, even mum and dad know that. Come on, I will take you to see everyone else, I have been hogging your company for too long.”

Everyone was pleased to see Charlie. They crowded around him like the long lost relative he was, even George managed to brighten up at his brother’s arrival. Everyone apart from Ron who was still sitting with his head in his hands when Charlie sat beside him. 

“Cheer up Ronnie, you didn’t put him here.” Charlie said as brightly as he could muster.

“Didn’t I?” Ron stated glumly. “If I hadn’t been selfish last night and stayed over at George’s instead of my…” He paused looking around for their mother, seeing she was out of earshot he continued but still kept his voice low. “My girlfriend’s. He wouldn't be here now.”

“True he wouldn't be now. But who’s to say what would have happened another day? Unfortunately this was bound to happen eventually and what if it was a day nobody visited? You were there to save him Ron, he’s going to get the help he needs.”

“I suppose you are right.” He agreed glumly.

“Of course I am. Now go and see Georgie so he can say thank you for saving his life.” Ron managed a weak smile at that and got up to speak to George.                  

[artificialqueens]

Not Nineteen Forever (21) (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

a/n: omg i’m emotional. guys, welcome to the last chapter of n19f. this fic has been the absolute best fun to write and i truly love these girls and the journey they’ve been on so much. big big huge thanks and love to every single person that’s ever left a note, hit reblog or left me lovely anons, DMs, comments or tags, they’ve all meant the absolute world to me and i love u so much. obviously i can’t let things go, so keep an eye out for some form of sequel coming in the next few months or so (patience is a virtue xo). for one last time…….let’s go, lesbians!!!!!!!

please note: this fic contains young adults often behaving in irresponsible/unadvisable ways with regards to alcohol, drugs and sex. if you are someone who feels as if they could be heavily influenced by fic and incorporate what happens in the plot into ur own life, pls steer clear!

tw: bit of weed in this one. no zoos, dw xo

summary: Brooke, Yvie and Nina are three flatmates who forged a friendship in their first year of university and picked up some other waifs and strays along the way. Now in their final year, there are feelings that need to be unravelled and confessions to be made whilst navigating drunk nights, hungover mornings, takeaways, group chats, library meetups, cafe gossiping, and the small matter of getting a degree.

last chapter: the girls all went to the beach, Scarlet and Yvie made plans for after uni, and Scarlet got the degree classification she so desperately wanted.

this chapter: it’s Brooke’s graduation day.

***

Brooke looked around at the chaos that was their kitchen. The kitchen utensils (which were all Nina’s that she and Yvie had shamelessly used as if they were their own over the 2 years they’d lived together) were wrapped up in bubble wrap and packed neatly into cardboard boxes which sat on top of the dining table. Yvie’s kitchenware- a blue bowl with a chip out of it, a huge white plate, a Tigger mug, and a mismatched fork, knife and spoon- had been inelegantly packed into an orange Sainsbury’s bag and left on the counter. Brooke had already packed up her own belongings and had moved them into a corner of her room so they wouldn’t take up space in the already-tiny kitchen. All their store cupboard food was in the process of being packed up for the foodbank, which was inevitably going to be flooded with the discarded super noodles, tinned soups and flavoured teas of the migrating tenants of student flats.

Yvie let out a snort from her position in front of their food cupboards, and Brooke’s heart gave a twinge at seeing them so empty. Top shelf had been hers: pasta, rice, stock cubes, and emergency maple syrup tin. The middle shelf was Nina’s: loaf of white bread, tins of tuna, ryvita, breadsticks, crisps. And Yvie’s food had occupied the bottom shelf: chocolate digestives, Ainsely Harriott cous cous, peanut butter, and sour patch kids. All gone. Except, Brooke noticed, for a jar of Marmite which had sat on the middle shelf and that Yvie was holding in her hand.

“Whose was the Marmite?” she asked, an amused tone to her voice. Nina shrugged from her position on the sofa.

“I’ve never once eaten Marmite.”

“It’s on your shelf, girl,” Yvie shrugged, her eyebrows questioning. Nina gave another shrug.

“I know. It’s always lived there. I swear to God it just turned up one day and I left it there. Thought it was one of yours because Christ knows you’re both too lazy to put it on your own damn shelves,” Nina reprimanded them both. Brooke laughed.

“You know you’re going to regret being so mean to us when you don’t live with us any more and we’re adults and it takes 9 months to clear our schedules for one singular coffee,” she raised her eyebrows at her flatmate as Nina pouted and let out a groan, held out her arms for a hug which Brooke fell into.

“Don’t! This is already too heartbreaking, I can’t believe we only have two days left here.”

“I can’t believe we’re actually organised with this moving out process.”

“I can’t believe we have a phantom jar of Marmite that nobody’s claiming,” Yvie piped up, peering at the jar with interest. “Brooke, you like this shit, right?”

“Marmite is Satan’s black fecal matter and I’m offended you think I eat it,” she deadpanned, shifting to get comfy in Nina’s lap whilst attempting to be as inconvenient as possible to her friend.

“Get the hell off me. Only my girlfriend is allowed to sit on me for so long that I lose feeling in my legs,” Nina huffed, shoving at Brooke until she relented and sat beside her. It didn’t stop her from putting her cold feet on her bare thigh though, and Nina hissed and jumped away. “I take it all back. I’m not going to miss either of you idiots at all.”

“You’re a crap liar,” Yvie smiled smugly, binning the Marmite and joining the two girls on the sofa, squeezing in between them both. “Awh, guys…it’s the end of an era.”

Brooke suddenly felt tears prick at her eyes out of nowhere. “Shut up. We’ve still got tomorrow and the next day.”

“Yeah, but tomorrow you’re gonna be doing graduation-y shit and then it’s moving day!” Nina protested. Her voice grew small, dropping to a murmur. “It’s kind of like it’s our last day.”

The girls fell silent. Yvie let out a huge puff of air from her lungs. “Don’t tell anyone I said this but I’m gonna miss you girls so fucking much.”

“Awh, Yves. I’ll miss you too,” Nina sighed, burying her face into Yvie’s shoulder and curling her arms around one of Yvie’s. “But this is good! Change is good, even if it’s scary and different. And you’re gonna be living with Scarlet! That’s exciting!”

“How’s the flat hunting going?” Brooke asked Yvie, who had a little smile on her face. Brooke didn’t know if Yvie knew that she always began to smile a little whenever Scarlet was mentioned. She wasn’t going to mention it to her. She would maybe mention it to Scarlet.

“Like I’d rather shit in my hands and clap,” Yvie groaned, running her hands down her face. “It’ll be fine, though. We’ve got a while. Her lease isn’t up until August so we’ve got a few weeks to keep looking and in the meantime I’ll just stay with her in that Dickensian death trap she calls a flat.”

The girls let out a laugh, Brooke resting her head on Yvie’s shoulder too. There was a small silence.

“At least you and Monet are sorted,” Yvie spoke again, Nina nodding in agreement. Buoyed by how well Yvie’s suggestion to Scarlet had been received, Nina had been determined not to fuck up another relationship milestone with Monet and had asked her to move in with her as well. The answer had been an emphatic yes, and the pair of them had used their terrifying teacher-levels of organisation skills to find a cute two-bed flat in a nicer, only slightly more expensive part of the city. They both knew their relationship was still new and fragile, so they’d agreed a room each was a good idea to give them their space when they each needed to work or wanted a bit of time on their own to simply do nothing. Brooke knew the two girls were joined at the hip though so they probably didn’t need that sort of contingency plan, but it was a sensible decision nonetheless.

“I can’t wait to get the keys and just vomit up a bunch of fairy lights and candles in every possible room,” she beamed, excitement radiating out of every pore. “It’s going to be so fun- we’re going to take turns cooking, and build pillow forts, and blast our songs on a Sunday morning and clean the whole place-”

“Fuck. Adulthood’s fully got you. Brooke, quick, if we run we can still save ourselves,” Yvie deadpanned, Nina giving her a whack as Brooke laughed.

“I personally can’t wait to go round and visit at every available opportunity. I’m going to move in,” Brooke smiled, and Nina gave another sad kicked-puppy pout.

“I wish. Canada is so far away,” she sighed, a little knife going through Brooke’s heart at the thought of moving back. She didn’t want to think about it, but it was just inevitable. It was happening, and it was fact. She was going back to Canada. She didn’t really know what she was doing, she hadn’t found herself a flat, and she didn’t have a job to earn money and pay the rent with even if she had, so she was flying home.

She really didn’t want to think about leaving. She didn’t want to think about leaving the city, constantly busy with tourists and families and drunk students and Very Important Working Adults. She didn’t want to think about leaving the park, with the cherry blossom trees that lined every path and fond memories of barbecues and picnics and drinking in the sun with the girls. She didn’t want to think about leaving uni- because as stressful as all hell her degree had been, she’d loved studying fashion design, loved making prototypes, loved learning about something she loved, even though her degree was fuck all use to her trying to get an actual job. She didn’t want to think about leaving the flat: the shower with its drippy head, the hob with the one gas burner that didn’t work, the carpet in her room with the incongruous red faded stain, the fucking Sports Direct mug. The girls that she loved so much her heart felt sore if she thought too much about it: Nina singing obnoxiously early as she got ready for placement, Yvie making the kitchen into a war zone trying new recipes, the ridiculous squabbles they got into about the washing up, pre-pre-drinks where they shared a bottle of pink Gordon’s and splashed mixers into their mismatched glasses and sang along to Ariana Grande at the top of their lungs.

Tears stung at her eyes again, and she swallowed the big lump in her throat to shoo them away. It was too late though, as Nina had seen her glassy eyes and reached over to hug her. Her own voice was thick with tears as she spoke.

“Oh, girls,” she let out a shaky breath, Brooke giving up the fight as she felt her own tears drop down onto her hoodie. “Change is good…but it’s shit.”

“Fuck you both, I’m not crying,” Yvie said, her breathing all shuddery and letting them both know that was a lie. The girls all sat and held each other as they wept quietly, mourning the death of their student careers and this life they’d lived for three years that they’d all too often taken for granted.

Brooke was the first to dry her tears, giving one decisive sniff and sweeping under both her eyes with determination. “Right. I’m putting a stop to this, we’re not spending our kind-of last night in the flat sitting crying like a bunch of babies. We’re going to order food, get high as St Peter’s balls and watch shitty game shows that make us yell at the TV. Okay?”

She was happy that Yvie and Nina both snorted a weepy laugh and nodded at her. “Okay.”

And the three girls did just what Brooke had suggested. There was, however, bickering about where they should order from. Yvie wanted sushi from the tiny little place tucked away in a back street that did bento boxes with prawn katsu and salmon maki which were like little rice parcels of heaven. Nina wanted Chinese from their favourite takeaway that delivered from out in the suburbs and where, for about fifteen points all in, you could get a banquet of sweet and sour chicken in sticky red sauce, crispy golden salt and chilli chips with huge red jewels of chilli and slices of garlic, chicken fried rice in a rich Cantonese gravy which bound everything together and chow mein with soft spring onion slices and huge chunks of onions all tossed in soy sauce. Brooke’s selection won in the end though as her argument was the strongest- “I might not taste any of this again, Canada is a long fucking journey, okay?!”- so they ordered burritos and chips and salsa from the incredibly-overpriced-but-worth-it burrito bar on campus. They finished the last of the weed that had been wrapped in tin foil and cling film and shoved to the back of the broom cupboard along with the bong, and they made horrifying cocktails from the dregs of their leftover spirits and mixers. The burritos arrived and they stuck Challenge TV on and shouted at the Catchphrase contestants who couldn’t get the most obvious fucking catchphrases Brooke had ever seen in her life.

The evening was perfect.

They talked about Brooke’s graduation tomorrow, Nina and Yvie both saying how proud they were of her. Brooke was glad she had the girls, since her Mum’s flight over to see her graduate had been cancelled because of freak winds back in Canada. Brooke had already cried to her over facetime about it, but Yvie had managed to find the link to the livestream that was only meant to be shown on campus, and she’d sent Brooke’s Mum the link so Brooke knew she would be watching even if she couldn’t properly be there. As soon as they’d heard the news, the girls had all agreed on the group chat to set up camp in the union and watch the livestream (as Brooke and Plastique would be graduating at the same ceremony) and then take photos with them both afterwards outside the great hall as if they were a gaggle of proud Mums. Even though it wouldn’t be what she’d planned, Brooke was still looking forward to it.

It was around midnight before Brooke took herself off to bed, and just as she got cosy underneath the duvet her phone lit up with a notification. She couldn’t help the smile that involuntarily shot to her face when she realised it was Vanessa.

V: hey what’s ya fav Kanye West album mine is GRADUATION!!!!!!! How you feelin about tomorrow boo? xxxxxx

Brooke let out a laugh, muffling it too late with her hand when it came out louder than expected. Christ, she loved the girl so much.

B: Kanye West is a misogynist pig and i won’t stand for him xxxxxx

B: Stronger is a bop though xxxxxx

V: You got that one right xxxxxx

B: And I’m good! Big jumble of feelings. Big happy/sad vibes xxxxxx

V: I know it’s bittersweet af xxxxxx

V: Me n Scar just held each other and cried once the ceremony was over xxxxxx

Vanessa and Scarlet had graduated last week, as had their other friends. Brooke and Plastique’s graduation date was the latest and so they were graduating last. She didn’t mind that, though. The longer she could stay being a student the better.

B: Lol we just had a big cry as a full flat xxxxxx

V: Don’t lmao idk what we gonna be like when our lease is up xxxxxx

Brooke scrolled up and looked at all the texts they’d exchanged from the past two months, the same signature of six kisses at the end of them all. They hadn’t really spoken about where they were relationship-wise since the night in the library. Maybe Vanessa didn’t want to. Maybe it was for the best. Brooke’s heart hurt as she realised she was going to be on the other side of the world in a matter of days, and maybe Vanessa didn’t want to see her ever again. She frowned at her own thoughts before tears had a chance to start welling in her eyes again. It had been good to truly get back to where she’d been before with Vanessa- just texting random garbage, having deep chats about the future, being ever-so-slightly flirty with each other. She thought about confronting the issue head on over text, but it wasn’t the medium through which to have that kind of conversation.

As if Vanessa could read her mind, however, another text came through.

V: When do you fly back again? 20th? xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart felt sore.

B: 12th xxxxxx

V: oh right

Brooke’s pulse froze at the lack of kisses. Her fingers ghosted over her screen, trying to figure out what to type. Vanessa sorted the problem for her.

V: fuck I wish you weren’t leaving xxxxxx

Brooke’s heart swelled up then popped. Was this the time? No. But their time was running out, she knew that much. Maybe she could see her before she left. She’d see her after her graduation anyway.

B: I wish I wasn’t either xxxxxx

B: But you’re coming tomorrow yeah? Xxxxxx

V: Wouldn’t miss it for the world baby xxxxxx

Fuck, she would miss her so much. She’d already told Vanessa how much she meant to her, just how fucking incredible she was in every way, and yet Brooke felt like doing it again.

She didn’t, because it would be too weird. But she wanted to more than anything.

V: You gonna look so beautiful and clever tomorrow I just know it xxxxxx

Brooke smiled to herself, blushing on her own at the compliment. Vanessa seemed to be firing risky texts to her left right and centre, so Brooke took a risk of her own.

B: Not as beautiful as you xxxxxx

She almost threw her phone away once she’d sent it. A reply came back almost instantly.

V: Stop with the lies xxxxxx

She was leaving in two days so she sent another risky one, caution truly pissed into the wind.

B: You’re honestly the most beautiful girl in the world xxxxxx

At that point Brooke put her phone face down on her bedside table and decided to sleep, her heart full of butterflies and her thoughts filled with the ridiculously massive crush she had on the girl she’d been idiotic enough to let go the first time.

When Brooke woke up, her phone was blowing up with messages. The one she checked first was from Vanessa in reply to the one she’d sent last night, and was simply a series of heart eye emojis. The next one she opened was a text from her Mum, paragraphs of pride and love for her daughter that made Brooke want to cry already. The others were all from the chat- Silky, Akeria, Vanessa, Scarlet, Yvie and Nina all spamming it with messages of luck and love for her and Plastique, and promising they’d be watching the screen and waiting outside for them when the ceremony was done.

Brooke got ready in a dream-like haze. She took her smart black tailored dress out of the cupboard where it had been hanging for the past month, the garment more ready for graduating than she was. She showered then dried her hair, curling it and brushing out so it made waves down her back. She put on her makeup- browns and nudes with only the tiniest bit of highlight. When she stepped into her dress and heels and looked at herself in front of the mirror, she hardly recognised herself.

She looked like an adult. A woman with her life stretching out in front of her, ready to be whatever she made of it.

Brooke phoned a taxi- it was raining just a little, even though it was already July- and pulled on a smart black coat when she saw it pull up outside, dashing carefully down the steps of the stairwell and out into the new day.

Graduation wasn’t til 11, but Brooke had arranged to meet up with Plastique beforehand anyway, just so they could be excited together. When Brooke pulled up at the taxi rank outside the square and the huge ceremony hall, she could see Plastique and her Mum there already, standing bickering amongst the growing gaggle of students and families. The sight only hurt Brooke a bit, until she remembered the girls would all be watching, and her Mum would be watching too no matter how far away. It would, after all, be about one and a half hours of waiting for Brooke to walk across the stage, take a scroll and shake a hand, and then it would all be over.

It was scary to think that that was all that was separating her and the adult world.

Trying not to get too deep and to instead just enjoy the day, Brooke excitedly paid the driver and dashed out of the taxi, Plastique spotting her running towards her and giving an excited squeal. She opened her arms out for a hug which Brooke crashed into.

“Bitch! How are you!” Plastique cried, Brooke only squeezing her tightly in response. “I’m so excited! And sad. And excited! And emotional.”

“Yeah, I can tell!” Brooke teased, Plastique laughing as she stepped out of the hug and gestured to her Mum, dressed very glamorously in a blue dress, blue heels and a pink fascinator. The occasion didn’t really call for it but Plastique’s Mum was always one to embrace the potential glamour in every situation, and so she had gone all out.

“You’ve met my Mum, right?” Plastique smiled. Brooke nodded and waved her a hello. She’d met her once at their second year showcase, the woman keeping her in stitches with her hilarious stories.

“I have! Nice to see you again, Alyssa.”

Alyssa, throwing formalities out of the window, instead pulled Brooke into a crushing hug. “And you too, my angel! Awh, Lord, ‘Tique told me all about your Mama’s flight. My heart is absolutely breakin’ for you, honey. I would’ve sent a plane over for her but nobody’s flying out of there come hell or high water.”

Brooke suppressed a laugh, finding it unbelievable that “I’ll just get her a plane” was on Alyssa’s list of options. “It’s okay Alyssa. Thank you, though. She’s going to watch the live stream, Yvie hooked her up with a link.”

“Well I’ll be your Mama just for today, girl. I am so proud of you both!” Alyssa cried, putting both her hands on Plastique’s shoulders and sighing. “Look at my intelligent daughter, out here gettin’ degrees and lookin’ so beautiful at the same time.”

Plastique smiled at her Mum lovingly, the two of them sharing one last hug before she and Brooke took themselves off to pick up their robes. It was surreal actually wearing the gown, all billowing and black, and helping each other fix their hoods, light blue with fringes of pink. They went to get their graduation photos taken, Brooke surprised that they were given a prop degree to hold as she’d always thought it was her actual degree she’d be holding. She laughed as Plastique moaned to her about not being able to see the photo until it got mailed to her, and the fact that her Mum ordered about twenty four copies so even if it was horrible she wouldn’t ever be able to escape it. Alyssa texted Plastique to tell her she’d gone into the hall to get a good seat, so her and Brooke decided to just go and sit ready anyway. They had to say goodbye to each other briefly until the end of the ceremony, as everyone had to sit in alphabetical order. As she waited for the ceremony to begin, Brooke scanned the huge crowds all seated in the hall’s three tiered levels. Her eyes fell on each empty seat and her heart broke a little more each time she saw one.

Nobody she truly loved would see her graduate in person. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t absolutely gutted. But at least she had Plastique, and of course, Alyssa.

Before she knew it, the ceremony had begun. She tried to pay attention to the Dean’s address and the chamber choir singing in Latin but she couldn’t help feeling like a 16-year-old in her school assembly, bored and just full of anticipation. Eventually, the awards began. Brooke clapped for all the other students crossing the stage, her eyes trained on the way they walked. She swallowed down the panic she felt, banished the thought of tripping over to the back of her mind. It reached Plastique’s turn, and she gave a huge cheer as her friend walked across the stage with all the grace and poise of a supermodel. She could hear Alyssa’s voice shouting from the balcony- “That’s my baby! That’s my girl!”- and, for a moment, she thought she heard the yell of a voice she knew all too well.

No. That was crazy. She must have imagined it.

E in the alphabet turned to F, then G, and eventually, H. Brooke didn’t have many others to sit through, and eventually there was only one girl separating her and her degree. The moment these three years had led up to, finally being lived out.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

She heard her name and smiled as she walked carefully across the stage, shaking the Dean’s hand tightly and collecting her scroll all wrapped up in its little embossed tube. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she walked to the other side, heard the claps, heard the cheers, and heard…

“Love you, Brooke Lynn!”

Stop.

“Go Brooke! Love you, girl!”

It was her. It was actually her. Vanessa’s voice, soaring above the crowd and reaching Brooke like an arrow.

What the fuck was she doing here, at her actual graduation ceremony? As Brooke dismounted the stage she scanned the room like a meerkat, the place far too packed to distinguish Vanessa from any other of the little blobs of people sitting in each row. But she knew it was her. Vanessa had seen her graduate, had seen her collect her degree and had cheered for her.

Brooke didn’t know how she’d managed to get a ticket - they were all reserved for families- but she suddenly couldn’t wait for the ceremony to end.

She didn���t have long to wait, as time flew by and everything was over before it could all sink in. Brooke and Plastique emerged from the hall to the crowds outside and, just as they had promised, the girls all rushed forward to crush them in ridiculously tight hugs, Silky yelling at the top of her lungs how proud she was of them both and Akeria shaking a bottle of five pound cava until the cork opened easily and sprayed the fizz all over the two girls. Brooke clung to Plastique and laughed, unable to stop the smile that was plastered on her face.

“I can’t believe it! You both did it, congratulations!” Scarlet cried cheerfully, Brooke pulling her into another hug.

“Did you see me shaking when I walked across the stage? I thought I was going to trip and fall off the damn thing!” Brooke laughed, the other girls all laughing too.

“You looked like a confident, graceful, successful queen,” Nina told her, Brooke wanting to cry at her friend’s compliment. “And you are all of those things! Fuck, I can’t believe we’ve all graduated now. What the hell are we going to do?!”

“Aw, let’s not think about that,” Akeria shushed her, a proud smile on her face. “Well done, ladies. We’re all proud of you. You did that shit.”

Plastique hugged and thanked them all again before making her excuses, saying she’d be right back, and dashing off to Alyssa. As she left, Yvie took Brooke’s hand and squeezed it.

“So, have you not got some big, teen-movie speech to make, or something?” she quipped. Brooke frowned, looking at her with confusion. The rest of the girls all waited for the penny to drop excitedly, and Brooke saw Akeria’s eyes land on someone just over her shoulder. Brooke turned around and, through the crowd, saw Vanessa waiting beside the hall. Their eyes met, and Brooke could see her try and then fail to suppress the smile on her face. Brooke turned back to the girls, pointing over her shoulder at the girl waiting for her.

“How did…you were all-”

Akeria rolled her eyes, gave her a gentle shove. “Go get your fuckin’ girl, idiot.”

Brooke hardly had to be told twice. She turned around, took two steps, then three, then four, until she realised she was almost jogging over to where Vanessa stood. And suddenly she was in front of her- her hair wavy and falling over her shoulders, her outfit exactly what any graduation guest would be wearing- a smart red dress that accentuated Vanessa’s collarbones and dark eyes and the bright white of the smile she was flashing Brooke’s way.

“Hey,” Brooke began, faltering slightly. She didn’t know where to start, so she chose the obvious. “You were there.”

“Yep!” Vanessa smiled at her proudly.

“How did…how?” Brooke stuttered out, still completely at a loss. Vanessa let out a laugh, charming beyond anything Brooke had heard before.

“I messaged your Mama. Got her number off Yvie after she sent her the link for the livestream. Basically said “hey Ms Hytes…can I grab your ticket and see your daughter graduate so I can surprise her”?” Vanessa grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Brooke couldn’t believe it. Her own Mum had been in on the whole thing and hadn’t let on. She was going to kill the woman the moment she touched down in Toronto.

“Oh my God. You’re amazing,” Brooke gasped, taking a little step forward so they were closer. She felt like crying. Vanessa was here, in front of her for what was maybe the last time. She had to do something. She couldn’t lose her. Not again.

“Amazing, huh?” Vanessa asked shyly, looking to the ground. They both knew the question meant so much more than simply what it was, and Brooke, without knowing where her confidence had emerged from, took both of Vanessa’s hands in hers. Vanessa’s gaze shot up, and their eyes met.

“Can I kiss you?”

“God, please.”

Without waiting a second longer, Brooke tipped her head down and met Vanessa’s lips. It was somehow just like the first time, even though in many ways it wasn’t at all. This time, Brooke knew every single inch of Vanessa’s body, she knew her ambitions, her fears, she knew what it was like to have almost lost her and be lucky enough to have her come back again. But most of all, Brooke knew that she was in love with her, so fucking in love with her, this one of a kind girl who she was desperate to keep in her life no matter if Vanessa chose her to be hers or not. Their kiss was gentle and urgent and passionate all at once, and Brooke wanted to hold onto the moment forever. When Vanessa’s lips were gone and Brooke was all at once looking at her again, she had tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey, ‘Ness. Come on, this isn’t…don’t be upset.”

“I am, though! I’m an idiot. These past two months we could’ve been kissing like that and going on cute dates and planning the future and having fuckin’ insane levels of sex but I left you hanging like boo boo the fuckin’ fool when I knew what my decision was the moment we had that conversation in the library, because it’s you, Brooke, fuck, it’s always been you. I love you so much,” Vanessa sniffed, frantically wiping her tears away as Brooke pulled her against her chest. Vanessa’s voice murmured against her, the most hopeful, plaintive question. “Do you still love me?”

“Fuck, Vanessa, of course I love you. You’re just…the person I was meant to meet, you’re the person I’m meant to have in my life. I love you so much.”

Brooke felt like an idiot as tears began to well up in her own eyes. She looked down at Vanessa and she looked back up at her.

“You’re leaving,” Vanessa let out a tiny sob, her forehead hitting Brooke’s chest again.

“I’ll come back,” Brooke said immediately, meaning it. “Honestly, I will. I’ll book my flights as soon as I’m home. I’ll look for flats and jobs and we can start again. We’ll make it work. I want to be with you.”

Vanessa looked up at her, her happy, grateful smile at Brooke’s words all she needed. She let out a tearful laugh. “Brooke Lynn, will you be my girlfriend?”

Brooke laughed too, taking her both her hands and squeezing them. “Hey, fuck you, I wanted to ask first!”

They both laughed then leaned in for another kiss. Brooke didn’t need to answer. Vanessa hadn’t needed to ask.

As they broke away and wrapped their arms around each other, Brooke felt the tears spring up in her eyes as she looked over at the girls. There was Akeria, making some quip about something, and Silky howling at whatever it was she’d said. Monet had joined them all and was swigging the cava out of the bottle, an arm around Nina who was looking at her with adoration. Scarlet and Yvie were telling them both a story, their hands intertwined and their bodies close. Plastique had dragged her Mum over to meet them all and her face was animated as she spoke to her, so full of happiness and excitement.

“Fuck, Vanessa, I can’t believe it’s all over,” Brooke let out a small sob. Vanessa reached up, swept her tears away with a gentle finger.

“Hey. Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.”

Brooke smiled down at her girlfriend. Her girlfriend. There was nobody she’d rather have spent the past three years with.

“You wanna go steal that cava back from Monet?”

Brooke giggled and nodded. Joining their hands together and giving them a little squeeze, they walked back over to be with their family.

[tails89]

Bad Moon Rising

AO3

“’lo?”

“Sorry kid, did I wake you?”

Rolling onto his back, Stiles stares up at the ceiling, ignoring the dull ache behind his eyes. “It’s fine. What’s up?”

“Someone called in a body this morning. It looks like some kind of sacrifice-“

With a long sigh, Stiles sits up, leaning back against the headboard while his dad talks.

“Great,” he mumbles into the phone, once his dad is done. “So, you’re thinking it could be supernatural then?”

“I think it’s definitely worth checking out.”

Stiles groans and rolls out of bed. “Yeah, okay. We’ll come take a look.” He disconnects the phone call and drops his cell on the bed. Resisting the temptation to flop back under the covers, he stands slowly moving to gather up a clean change of clothes before heading to the bathroom. He takes his time in the shower—the warm steam helps to loosen some of the congestion that’s beginning to build in his chest, and by the time he’s dressed Stiles is feeling almost human.

He shuffles out to the kitchen, turning on the kettle and rummaging through the medicine cabinet thinking maybe he can dose himself up enough to get through the morning. If he’s lucky, this whole sacrifice thing will just be some twisted, but completely human, occurrence and he’ll be home by midday to sleep off the cold that’s brewing.

Tablets in hand, Stiles sets about making coffee. He’s just finishing up when the front door opens and Derek enters, kicking off his sneakers and dropping his headphones onto the hall table. He wanders over to stand behind Stiles, wrapping his arms around him boyfriend and hooking his chin over his boyfriend’s shoulders

“I wasn’t expecting you to be up yet.” Derek takes the coffee Stiles offers him setting it down on the bench. “It looked like maybe you were coming down with something.”

“Oh, it came down alright.” Stiles leans back into the warm weight and sips his own hot drink. “I’m eighty-percent sure I’m dying right now,” he complains. “But Dad called. He wants us to check out a crime scene.”

“I could probably check it out on my own,” Derek offers once Stiles has filled him in. He backs off to refill his drink bottle. “If magic’s been cast, I’ll probably be able to scent it.”

Stiles slumps forward against the counter. “Yeah, if it’s been cast. But it depends on the ritual. Ugh.” He downs the last of his coffee. “It’ll be easier of we can both get a look at the place. We can rule a lot of things out together.”

“You sure?”

Stiles shrugs. “Yeah, let’s just get this over with.”

They take Derek’s car—it handles the winding, bouncing track out to the crime scene much easier than the Jeep would. It takes about half an hour to arrive and with each bump in the road Stiles regrets his decision to leave his bed. By the time they spot the flashing red and blue lights of the police cars through the trees, the pounding behind his eyes is back with a vengeance.

Sheriff John Stilinski stands beside his cruiser as the Toyota pulls up. He turns to wave at his boys as they walk over, his mouth twisting down once he gets a good look at Stiles.  

“Jesus kid, you look like death warmed over.” John tucks his notepad into his pocket. “You should have said something.”

“Thanks Dad,” Stiles drawls. “Good to see you too.” He stifles a cough in his elbow, ignoring the looks from Derek and his father.

“Stiles-“

“It’s fine,” Stiles promises, waving them both off. “Just a cold. Look, the sooner we do this, the sooner I can go home.”

Sighing, John leads the way over to the crime scene. “The body was called in just after six am by a jogger-“

The acrid scent of magic hangs heavy in the air and Stiles groans at the sight before him. He recognises two of the symbols carved into the tree, the others… he’s not sure. He goes to take a step forward for a better look but is stopped by Derek’s low growl. Turning, Stiles realises that Derek can’t get any closer, blocked by an invisible wall.

“Mountain ash.”

Stiles crouches and brushes his fingers through the short grass. The barrier falls allowing Derek to pass.

“Well this is just awesome.” Stiles straightens too quickly-- his vision going grey and spotty for a second before clearing. “There was definitely magic involved, but I don’t recognise these symbols.” He steps away from the tree to take a couple of photos with his phone. “I guess I’ll go give Deaton a call,” he says, patting away Derek’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll meet you guys back at the car.”

*

Stiles is sitting in the passenger seat of the car when Derek and his father return. He massages his temples, trying to will away the headache hammering behind his eyes.

He jerks up at the metallic squeal of the door opening, fumbling with his phone.

“I really hate talking to Deaton,” he complains. “It’s hard enough to get a straight answer from him normally. I don’t understand his need to explain things in the most convoluted ways.”

“Did you get anything?” Derek asks, leaning against the door.

“I explained the symbols and I’m thinking druid. Deaton said something about the energies of a blue moon…” Stiles trails off at his Dad’s confused expression.

“It’s when there are two full moons in the same month,” Derek supplies. “The second one’s called a blue moon.”

Stiles nods along. “Anyway, it’s something to do with gaining power.”

“Okay, but last night wasn’t a full moon,” John points out.

“No, it’s in, uh-” Stiles looks to Derek for help.

“Tonight.”

“Well, shit. Yeah, so it escalates,” Stiles explains. “The druid killed one person last night. They’ll kill two more tonight to finish the ritual. They may already have their next victims.”

“How do we stop him?” John asks, his mouth set in a frown.

“Honestly?” Stiles shrugs. “No idea. I think we need to get the pack together and Dad-” He breaks off, the tickle in his throat bursting out in a long coughing fit. “-Can you check and see if anyone’s been reported missing in the last few days?” he croaks when he’s done.

“In the meantime, I’m taking Stiles home,” Derek cuts in. “It’s going to take a few hours to organise everyone and figure out how to stop the druid.” He turns to Stiles. “You should probably get some rest while we wait.”

“I knew there was I reason I loved you,” Stiles says grinning. “I’ll start calling the pack.” He’s reaching for the seatbelt when the phone in his hands starts ringing.

“Scott? Wait, slow down. What?” His eyes go wide. “When? Shit. Okay. Where are you? Stay there okay, we’re on our way.” Stiles ends the call and turns to his Dad. “Melissa didn’t come home last night.”

John pales. “You think the druid has her?”

“Given the timing, I think it’s too big of a coincidence. Ugh.” Tipping his head back against the seat he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I guess that’s a raincheck on naptime.”

His dad gives him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “I think you’ve got bigger problems,” he says, looking back to the crime scene. “I’ve got some things to finish up here,” John says. “Keep me updated. Let me know when you find her.”

“Will do.”

Derek climbs in behind the steering wheel and they head straight to Scott’s place.

“Mom worked yesterday.” Scott explains, pacing the living room once they arrive. “She was supposed to be home last night, but she didn’t, she-“

Kira stands, resting a hand on his arm and Scott looks across at her gratefully. After taking a breath, he continues.

“I called the hospital this morning. I thought maybe she picked up another shift. She wasn’t there though. And they said she didn’t turn up for her shift yesterday either. That’s not like her.”

“We’ll find her.” Stiles is quick to reassure his friend. “Hey, we will. We always do.”

It’s still early, almost ten am, which means they still have the whole day to find Melissa. Knowing one of the druid’s victims will make it easier to find all of them. With a personal belonging, Stiles can use a spell to track Melissa’s location.

“Okay,” he says, starting to form a plan in his head. “Scotty, you go talk to Deaton. He tends to open up to you more than he does the rest of us. Show him the photos I took and get as much information as you can— I want to know what each symbol means.” He swings his leg against the coffee table, tapping out a staccato rhythm as he thinks. “We’ll get the rest of the pack together at our place in a couple of hours and head out before it gets dark.”

With the very beginnings of the plan set into motion, Scott and Kira leave to talk to the veterinarian and Derek drives Stiles home.

As soon as he walks through the front door, Stiles starts pulling books off the shelves and spends the rest of the morning reclined on the couch, up to his eyeballs in research.

Derek disappears into the kitchen around midday, returning ten minutes later with a sandwich.

“You should eat something,” he says, placing a plate down on the coffee table, pushing aside the books and papers spread out across the surface.

“I’m not hungry,” Stiles mumbles. He puts down his notebook and rubs at his eyes. His head aches, everything aches, and he wants nothing more than to curl into a ball and sleep for the next week, but with a druid running around sacrificing people for power, sleep will have to wait.

“I know.” Derek hands over a glass of water and two small white tablets. “But you haven’t eaten anything today— coffee doesn’t count as food. You need to eat.”

Stiles eyes the medication, coughing into his sleeve. “Can’t you just use your werewolf pain-sucky magic?” He makes a grabby motion, but Derek shakes his head and places the pills in his palm.

“My ‘werewolf pain-sucky magic’ won’t help your fever,” he points out. “Or that cough.”

Stiles takes the medication with a resigned sigh, swallowing down the pills and grimacing as the water hits his rolling stomach. Once the feeling subsides, he holds out his hands for the plate.

Derek hands over the sandwich and watches Stiles take a few tentative bites. Satisfied, he goes and collects his own lunch before returning to the living room.

“I don’t like this,” Derek says, breaking the silence. He sits down on the couch next to Stiles, lifting his boyfriend’s feet to make room and dropping them in his lap. “Surely there’s someone else who can do this?”

“Who?” Stiles croaks. “None of the ‘wolves can activate the tracking spell. I don’t-” He breaks off to cough into his elbow. “Deaton won’t help us unless it benefits him directly. Dad’s busy trying to keep the rest of the department distracted while we go tramping across the crime scene.” He raises the sandwich halfway to his mouth then seems to change his mind, setting the plate back down on the table. “Melissa is missing. If we don’t do this, if I don’t do this tonight, we might never get her back.”

“I still don’t like it,” Derek grumbles. “It’s dangerous enough without you being sick.”

“I’ll be fine big guy.” Stiles slips a foot out of Derek’s lap to nudge him in the thigh. “I’ll be in and out in the blink of an eye and once the druid turns up, I’m more than happy to leave the fighting up to the werewolves. We’ve got a plan— it’s going to work out.”

Two hours later most of the pack are sitting around the coffee table, while Derek goes over that same plan.

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Scott asks, his face is drawn with worry. Melissa has been missing for almost twenty-four hours and everyone can feel Scott’s fear creeping down the pack bonds—and an unsettled Alpha makes rest of the pack restless.

“Stiles is the best at last minute plans,” Kira says, glancing over at Stiles as she speaks.

“Yeah, but Stiles looks like shit.” Malia is as blunt as ever, sitting with her feet hanging over the arm of the chair. “What?” She shrugs when Stiles complains. “You reek of sweat and sickness. You have magic, can’t you just heal yourself?”

“My magic doesn’t work like that.” Stiles reminds her. “I can sense other people’s magic, do a couple of spells, but healing is beyond what I can do.”

“We can’t put this off any longer,” Derek continues, bringing them back to the plan. “We need Stiles to find Melissa, but then it’s up to us.” He looks to each of the ‘weres in the room. “You all know what you need to do?” Six heads nod back at him. “Okay, we head out in an hour.”

*

It’s cold.

Fucking freezing.

Intellectually Stiles knows it’s not that bad and that his fever is probably just making it seem worse than it really is. That doesn’t stop Stiles from cursing and shivering in his jacket. He presses in closer to Derek’s side, more thankful than ever that werewolves run hot.

It’s not even that late. The sun has only just disappeared behind the trees and little kids across Beacon Hills are probably out trick-or-treating innocently oblivious to the danger that is lurking in the preserve. Stiles can’t remember if he turned the lights off at the house. He hopes no one comes knocking on their door.

It’s a crappy way to spend Halloween. Stiles could be eating candy re-watching The Nightmare Before Christmas and trying to convince Derek to answer the door in his beta shift.  

He forces his focus back to the task at hand. Moonrise is only moments away. Closing his eyes, Stiles re-activates the spell that is leading them to Melissa and the other victim. Focusing on the pull, he walks with Derek, listening hard for the rest of the pack—they’ve melted into the trees ready and watching in case they run into the druid. He clears his throat and resists the urge to cough. His eyes are watering and he can feel a tickle deep in his chest and he does his best to ignore it.

Beside him, Derek tenses.

Stiles looks up at him.

“Moonrise,” Derek explains softly, his eyes glowing golden.

They break into a run.

“They should be right up ahead,” Stiles pants, pointing through the trees. Derek shifts fully, snarling and snapping his jaws. He crashes through the undergrowth, followed closely by Malia and Erica who have materialised from the darkness.

They’re gone by the time Stiles reaches the clearing, but he can still hear them, growling and snarling as they chase the druid.

“Stiles!” Kira is standing off to Stiles’ left with Scott and Boyd. Behind her is Melissa and… Chris Argent?

“We can’t get to them.” Kira gestures to the dark ash the ground.

Stiles pulls his jacket closer around himself, turning towards her.

“Okay.” He casts a glance back towards the direction Derek had gone. “I’m coming.” He jogs over towards the tree, his breath burning in his chest, and kicks his foot through the line of mountain ash.

Scott and Boyd rush in to free Melissa and Chris. They make quick work of the knotted rope and soon they’re ready to go.

Stiles stands to the side, covering his mouth to cough harshly into his sleeve. He wants nothing more than to get Derek and go home.

“Mama McCall.” Stiles’ voice grates in his throat. “Good to have you back.”

Melissa has one arm flung around her son’s waist, and she wraps the other around Stiles. “I’m beginning to wonder if there’s some sort of card I can get stamped each time I’m kidnapped.” Her tone is light, but there’s a tremble to it she can’t hide.

“Next one’s free,” Stiles jokes, letting Scott lead them back towards the cars.

Derek is waiting there in his wolf form when they get back. Stiles pulls away from Melissa to go to his wolf, tangling his fingers in Derek’s fur.

There’s a spare change of clothes in the car. Stiles reluctantly lets go of Derek and follows him around the car so the wolf can shift back into his human form.

“You’re okay? What happened?” he asks, scanning Derek for any sign of injury.

“I’m okay.” Derek says. He opens the front passenger door and pulls on a pair of sweatpants. “But the druid got away.”

Stiles lets Derek tug him in to scent him. “We were able to stop the sacrifice. Maybe he’ll leave.” The words are mumbled into Derek’s bare chest. “Let’s go home. We can sort this out tomorrow.

They’d driven two cars out to the preserve, so they split back into them.

Scott and Kira volunteer to take Chris and Melissa home and Malia goes with them. Derek offers Erica and Boyd a lift before climbing in on the driver’s side. Stiles hops up beside him cranking the heater.

He stares out the window as they drive. The glass is cool against his forehead as the Toyota winds along the bumpy road back to town and Derek’s hand is a comforting presence on Stiles’ thigh— vibrating.

“Oh!” Stiles sits up quickly, ignoring Erica’s giggle from the backseat. The vibration comes again from his pocket. Stiles digs out his phone and answers the call. “Hey Dad.”

“Stiles, how’d it go?”

“We didn’t catch him, but we were able to rescue Melissa and Chris Argent. We’re on our way home.” Stiles rests his head back against the window.

“Do you think he’ll be back?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says honestly. “I hope not.”

John sighs down the line. “Well, the important thing is everyone’s okay. We can sort the rest out later. Get some rest Stiles. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The line disconnects and Stiles lets his hand drop to his lap. Outside the window, the brightly lit houses with their Halloween decorations blur together.

*

“Wha-?” Stiles stirs when Derek shakes his shoulder gently. He squints against the lights of the residential complex. “We’re back?”

Erica and Boyd are gone. Stiles hadn’t even noticed the brief pit stop to drop them home.

Derek nods, stepping aside so Stiles can climb down from the car. It’s only a short walk up the path to their house, but it feels endless, so Stile just focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he makes it to the front porch.

He leans against Derek while the werewolf unlocks the door and turns on the lights. The living room is a mess, but that is a problem for future-Stiles. He ignores it in favour of walking straight through to the bedroom.

“Do you want first shower?”

Stiles shakes his head; he’s been longing for this moment all day. “Jus’ want to sleep.”

He sits on the bed and kicks off his shoes. He can hear Derek moving around in the bathroom as he shrugs off his jacket and lets it fall to the floor. His jeans are the last to go, falling in a heap on top of the rest of his discarded clothing. Stiles contemplates pulling on a pair of sweatpants but walking to the closet just seems like too much effort, so he settles for crawling under the covers in his shirt and boxers.

A few minutes later, the bed dips and a warm body climbs in beside him. Stiles rolls towards Derek, tucking himself up against his werewolf hot water bottle before drifting off.

Derek doesn’t sleep very well that night.

Stiles kicks him awake twice, mumbling and coughing in his sleep. Wrapping an arm around his partner, Derek pulls Stiles in close, hoping to stifle some of the movement.

Snaking his hand up under Stiles’ shirt, Derek splays his fingers across the bare skin of his stomach. It feels warmer than normal, but Derek doesn’t have much experience with human illnesses. He doesn’t think it’s too bad.

Stiles rolls over, mashing his face into Derek’s collarbone. The werewolf cards his fingers though his sick boyfriend’s hair and tries to fall back to sleep.

He gives up some time around five am.

Stiles stopped mumbling at some point during the night, but his temperature has gone up and he’s throwing off enough heat that even Derek feels sticky and uncomfortable lying beside him.

He pushes away the sheets and rises from the bed. Stepping into the kitchen, Derek takes a long drink of water then goes and rummages around in one of the cupboards. He finds an old packet of paracetamol that somehow isn’t expired and inspects the back of the package to check it can be taken on an empty stomach. Before returning to the bedroom Derek refills his glass with water.

Stiles doesn’t even stir when Derek sits on the edge of the bed and switches on the lamp on the nightstand. Setting down the glass, Derek reaches for Stiles’ shoulder, waking him gently.

The younger man groans, one arm coming up to smack away the hand trying to wake him.

“Le’ me sleep,” he whines, curling in on himself.

“You can go back to sleep in a minute,” Derek promises. “I need you to take these first.” He presses the meds into Stiles’ hand.

The younger man glares blearily at the clock on the table and then at the tablets in his hands. “Der, it’s the asscrack of dawn,” he complains, voice rasping. “This could have waited.”

“You’re running hotter than I am right now,” Derek points out patiently. “Trust me. Take these now, you’ll feel better when you wake up later.”

Stiles groans again with the effort of sitting up. He sits back against the headboard, reaching out to take the glass Derek hands him and swallows the pills. “Can I go back to sleep now? Wait. Where are you going?” He asks when Derek stands.

“I spent the night lying beside the human equivalent of a space heater.” Derek twists to look back towards the bed. “I’m going to take a shower.”

“Don’t go.” Stiles makes grabby hands towards his boyfriend until Derek reluctantly climbs back onto the bed.

“You’re so gross,” the werewolf grumbles, running his fingers through Stiles’ sweaty locks.

Stiles snuggles into his chest. “You love me.”

Derek rumbles his agreement, wrapping his arms around Stiles despite the clammy heat coming off him. He manages to doze for another hour and when he wakes Stiles does feels cooler.

The sky outside their window is beginning to lighten, so Derek carefully untangles himself from his human-octopus boyfriend and gets up to fetch a pair of running shorts. He contemplates showering quickly before changing—he is feeling pretty grimy after sleeping beside Stiles. Making up his mind, he ducks into the bathroom.

At the end of his morning jog, Derek detours through town to stop at the pharmacy. He picks up some more medicine for Stiles as well as a thermometer. They’ve never needed one before, but Derek has spent the last twenty-four hours guessing Stiles’ temperature based on comparing it to his own. He knows that werewolves generally run two to three degrees warmer than a human and based on that Stiles had had a pretty high fever that morning, but it would be useful to know exactly what his temperature was.

He’s expecting Stiles to still be asleep when he gets home, but when he pushes open the front door Stiles is sprawled across the couch in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket. His laptop’s sitting open on his knees and Stiles is staring blearily at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Derek moves Stiles’ legs, so he can sit on the couch, then lets the human drop his feet into his lap.

Stiles coughs into his elbow and slumps further into the cushions.  “That druid is still out there,” he says. “We bought some time last night, but this isn’t over.”

“We’ve got another month before the next full moon,” Derek points out. “A regular full moon. There won’t be another blue moon until-“

“August,” Stiles supplies. “2023, but-“

“That’s two years away.” Derek cuts back in. “Take a break. Just a couple of days until you feel better. You’re allowed to take a sick day Stiles.”

“The bad guys don’t take sick days Derek,” Stiles argues. “Besides-“ he’s cut off by another cough. “The ritual was for gaining power. Why? What’s the druid planning on doing with this power? How much does he have already? Maybe he doesn’t need to finish the ritual!”

“Let someone else figure that out.” Derek reaches across to shut the laptop. “I’ll call Deaton again; he might have some ideas. Lydia will be back in a couple of days; she can help too. You’re not the only one who knows how to do research.”

“Yeah, but I do it the best,” Stiles grumbles but he lets Derek take away his computer.

“I know you do,” Derek agrees. “But you can do it later.” He places the laptop down on the coffee table. “I’m going to make some breakfast. It’s still early, why don’t you go back to bed for a bit? I’ll bring you something to drink.”

“Nah, I think I’m just going to stay here.” Stiles tugs the blanket closer around his body. “We could watch a movie.”

Derek passes over the remote for the television before heading to the kitchen. He potters around, taking his time with breakfast.

When he finally returns to the loungeroom, Stiles is fast asleep on the couch. Derek lets his hand brush against Stiles’ forehead. He’s feeling a bit warm again, but his fever is nowhere near as high as it had been when he’d woken that morning, so Derek lets him sleep.

It’s a Sunday morning, and they’ve both got the day off. Derek had been planning on heading into the garage for a bit to work on his car, but he doesn’t trust Stiles not to get sucked into another research binge if he leaves him alone. Instead, he goes to take a proper shower and throws their sheets into the washing machine before remaking the bed. He spends the rest of the morning quietly tidying the house while Stiles sleeps before returning to the kitchen to make some lunch.

Derek digs around in the freeze, finding some leftover soup—soup is supposed to be good for colds. He sticks the container in the microwave to heat while he makes himself a sandwich. He’s mindful of the fact that Stiles probably won’t be very hungry, still, he needs to eat so Derek carries their lunch out to the living room and places it on the coffee table. It feels like Stiles’ temperature is back up, so Derek ducks back to the kitchen for his paper bag of pharmacy supplies.

“’m not hungry,” is the first thing Stiles says when he spots the food.

“I know,” Derek replies, “but the pharmacist said you shouldn’t take these with an empty stomach.” He’s got the new box of cold and flu tablets in one hand and the thermometer in the other.

Stiles sits up gingerly, clearing his throat of the congestion building back up. His chest aches from coughing all morning and he’s desperately trying to avoid setting it back off. He pulls his legs up, crossing them to make room for Derek to sit beside him and watches the werewolf fidget with the thermometer.

“Here.” He holds out his hand to take it. It’s digital and turns on at the press of a button. Stiles sticks it in his mouth under his tongue and waits for the beep. When it comes, Stiles doesn’t even look at it, just hands the thing back over and lets Derek frown over the blinking number.

“What’s the damage?” He asks as he accepts the bowl of soup that had been cooling on the table.

“I think you have the flu,” Derek responds.

“Pretty sure I could have told you that.” Stiles huffs fondly. He would roll his eyes if his head didn’t hurt so bad. He lifts his spoon to eat, pausing after a few small mouthfuls when his stomach begins to churn unpleasantly. When he’s feeling confident his lunch is going to stay put, he takes the offered medicine, but he can’t bring himself to eat any more after that.

Derek starts his own lunch once he realises Stiles isn’t going finish his soup. He flicks on the TV, starting up a new episode of the TV show he’s been watching.

“Oh, yeah, I like this one.” Stiles shuffles around on the couch so that he’s half draped over Derek as the title credits begin to play. He lies like that for a few minutes when suddenly he scrambles out from under the blanket to rush towards the hallway.

The sound of retching hits Derek’s ears a moment later. He follows the sound towards the bathroom.

Inside Stiles sits, slumped on the floor, his head tipped back to rest against the cool porcelain tiles that line the bathroom wall.

“Feeling any better?” Derek asks as he moves to crouch beside his boyfriend.

Stiles goes to nod but then he’s reaching for the toilet again, shoulders heaving. They sit there on the floor together for a few minutes afterwards. Stiles is afraid that if he moves it’ll start up again.

“You think you could drink something?”

Stiles shakes his head carefully.

“Just a little bit, you need to stay hydrated.”

“You’ve been googling,” Stiles manages to say without setting off another round of vomiting.

He hears Derek’s low chuckle and the rustle of clothing as the werewolf gets up from the floor, followed by the sound of footsteps receding. Derek’s back soon enough and there’s a damp wash cloth being pressed into his hands.

Stiles runs the towel over his face and down his neck, it’s a welcome relief against his burning skin.

Taking the towel back, Derek swaps it for a glass of water. Stiles takes a tentative sip to wash his mouth out, but any more than that makes is stomach roll again, so he set the glass down on the tiles.

“I think I’m going to go back to bed,” he mumbles, standing slowly with one hand braced against wall. Once upright, he lets Derek steer him towards the bedroom and climbs into the fresh sheets.

“Roll over,” Derek says. “Facing the window.”

Brows creasing with confusion, Stiles rolls over.

A warm, calloused hand comes to rest at the base of his neck, kneading small circles into his skin. It drags up into his hair and Stiles feels the tension in his back and shoulders melting away along with the pounding in his head.

“You mojo’d me.” The words are almost lost in the pillow. “Thanks Der.”

Derek lets Stiles sleep and heads out to find a large bowl or bucket— just in case. By the time he returns, Stiles has already thrown the covers off and is lying sprawled in the middle of the bed. His skin still feels so hot to the touch and Derek realises that he’d probably thrown up before the pills had really had a chance to work. He’s not sure if he can give Stiles more medicine so soon and debates whether he should call Melissa to ask.

In the end he chooses the middle ground and sends a text. The reply comes through a few minutes later.

Melissa McCall (13:09PM): How long after taking the medication was he sick?

He’s not sure, but it hadn’t been long.

Derek (13:09PM): Maybe 20 minutes?

Melissa McCall (13:10PM): What’s his temp now?

Derek returns to the living room to retrieve the thermometer. He’s reluctant to wake Stiles again, but does it anyway, ignoring the grumble in favour of getting a temperature reading.

Derek (13:14PM): 102.1

Melissa McCall (13:16PM): Just make sure he keeps drinking water and let him rest. You can try again in a few hours. Text me if his temp goes over 103.

“You’re like a mother hen,” Stiles mumbles, blinking up at Derek. “I’ll be fine. Us fragile humans get sick all the time.”

“You’ve never been sick in the two years we’ve been dating,” Derek points out, setting down his phone. “And werewolves don’t get sick. I have no frame of reference for this.”

“You had humans in your pack.”

“I never had to take care of any of them. I was sixteen remember.” The memories are easier to talk about with the distance of time. “Anyway, Melissa said you need to stay hydrated. I’ll get you some water.”

Stiles nods wearily and but doesn’t sit up.

Derek returns with a glass, setting it down beside the bed.

“You good?”

The concern in Derek’s voice is endearing and Stiles finds himself smiling. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

The rest of the day passes uneventfully. Stiles spends most of it sleeping, occasionally woken by either Derek trying to get him to drink, or the cough that rattles in his chest. His temperature hovers around 102 for the rest of the evening, not going any higher, but not coming down much either.

Around dinner time, Derek gets another text from Melissa asking how Stiles is doing. Stiles has migrated back to the couch and is curled up under a blanket. He steals Derek’s phone to reply to Melissa that he’s fine and Derek is being a worrywart and ignores the dinner Derek has placed in front of him.

“Do you need to call in sick for tomorrow?” Derek asks.

“No work tomorrow.” Stiles puts the phone down. “And I can afford to miss a day of classes. I was going to give Scott a lift in though—I’ll text him later.”

Nodding, Derek queues up another movie and they watch TV until Stiles falls asleep on the couch. Derek wakes him just before nine pm for one last dose of medicine and sends him to bed.

Read the chapter 2 on AO3

[mycupoffanfiction]

His Second Chance Epilogue

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Just pure fluff. 

Word count: Approx 3500

Bucky and the Reader have a party to celebrate five years of owning their cafe together and remember some of the best times they’ve had in those years. 

Flashbacks are in italics. 

A/N: THE END IS HERE. I’m both sad and happy, I absolutely adored writing this story and now I feel empty. I have no idea what to write next! I can’t believe that this 21 parter has come to an end. I also can’t believe that this story has been written over 97 pages in Word and in total is 55692 words!! Insane!  Thank you for all of your wonderful support and love for this series 💖

Let me know what you’d like to see next!

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Bucky smiled as he watched you propped up against Steve’s side with Sam on your other side and Gemini on your lap, enjoying the vast amounts of attention coming from you and her two uncles as they had since proclaimed themselves.

 It had been five years since you had ownership of the café and you and Bucky were holding a little party amongst your friends to celebrate the five year anniversary of your new and improved life together. Bucky signalled you over back to your original spot at the head of the table next to him, you’d pushed all the tables in the café together to cater for everyone.

 You sat down next to Bucky, Gem insistent on staying with Steve, Sam arguing with him about how he should get Gemini on his lap and not the other way around. Bucky’s arm draped around your shoulder as he leaned over to press a kiss to your temple before gently hitting his glass with his metal finger, getting everyone’s attention.

 “Thank you, everyone for coming.” Bucky started, five years of normal life had increased his confidence by miles and you could see how comfortable he was with speaking in front of everyone, compared to years ago when he could barely even get a word out to Steve when he arrived. “I’d like to say a few words before we start eating.” He went on, Tony sitting up straight and throwing him a look of encouragement, the two of them having grown closer after the events that pushed them all apart during the civil war.

 Bucky glanced over at you as he stood up from his seat, a soft smile on his lips as he looked out across the room. “I remember when I first arrived back at the tower. It was terrifying, I was in a bad way.” Bucky sighed, his smile faltering for a moment as he remembered some of those scary moments. The worst to him was when he was trying to express his feelings to you but his brain wouldn’t let him, causing him to lash out every time he tried. He had hated himself for it, he’d scared you a few times, but it never ceased to amaze him that despite the fear he caused, you always stuck by him.

 “Without you,” Bucky glanced back at you again. “My pretty girl, god, I don’t think I would’ve pulled through the way that I did. I’m sure I could have done it by myself, but I don’t think I’d be in such a good place without you.” He grinned, Pepper letting out an aww from the other end of the table, Tony and Wanda who were on either side of her chuckling and fussing over her when she began to get teary eyed.

 “We’ve spent five years in this coffee shop, doll. We have some great memories here.” Bucky paused, watching everyone’s faces for a moment before continuing. “Right by that window was where we had our first ever date.” Bucky chuckled fondly at the memory, how damn nervous he’d been that day, how hard it had been to admit any kind of feelings, but he was beyond glad that he had. “I also found our girl Gem right outside in the alleyway.” Bucky grinned, the little cat currently taking residence on Steve’s lap still, much to Sam’s displeasure.

 Bucky went on, listing the things you’d done together, not just related to the coffee shop, but also in the tower and the city in general.

The first days of the coffee shop were demanding, but so fulfilling and as Bucky briefly reminisced about the first weeks of your ownership of the shop, you remembered those times vividly.

 “Whoa, do you need some help there, sweetheart?” Steve asked as you accidentally crashed into him, bounced off his chest and stumbled back into Bucky who was right behind you, dropping the box you’d been carrying. “Sorry Stevie, couldn’t see where I was going.” You giggled nervously, your best friend giving you a grin before squeezing your shoulder gently and bending down to pick up the box you’d dropped. “Nice going, you probably broke everything with your brick like chest.” Sam quipped, causing Bucky to snort as Steve rolled his eyes. “It was just books, asshole.” Bucky grumbled, while making sure you were fine.

 “I’ll put this in the reading nook, sweetheart.” Steve called over his shoulder as he walked away with the box. “You take care of organising things how you want. I don’t want you hurting yourself.” Bucky kissed the side of your head before walking away and you happily went ahead to fiddle with the reading corner you’d just finished building at the back of the coffee shop.

 When you were finished with the reading nook, you were so proud of your work. The café was coming along nicely and the main floor was pretty much finished. All the tables and chairs were where you wanted them to be, all laid out the way you and Bucky wanted. The main counter was set up neatly with all the supplies and bits you needed to begin serving customers. You’d spent a good while writing out the menu on a giant chalk board on the wall above the counter and adding little drawings and pictures to the board, mostly space themed.

 Your reading nook looked great, it had several large bookcases, some comfy armchairs, a little loveseat sofa and some bean bags. Sam had helped you unpack the books and you’d taken great pleasure in bossing him around with the placement of all the genres on the taller shelves that you couldn’t reach.

 “Ready for the finishing touch before we open this place up tomorrow?” Bucky asked, walking towards you with a box in his hands. You nodded with a grin and he opened the box, pulling out large bulb string lights, similar to the ones you’d seen on your first dinner date with Bucky. They always gave you that lovely, cosy feeling.

 You stood back as Bucky finished stringing them up and you smiled, your boyfriend coming to stand next to you with his arm around your shoulders. “I think we’re ready.” You grinned up at him. “I think so too.” He smiled, kissing your forehead gently.

 “And we can’t forget when we moved in to the apartment above this place three years ago.” Bucky grinned. “God, it was a mess, we had to completely rip it out and redo it, but it was totally worth it.” He smiled. “Don’t get me started, man, painting those damn pipes for you sucked.” Sam chimed in, while he sounded offended, he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as he remembered helping you both do up the place. “Shut up, you were proud.” Steve nudged him in the side. “Yeah, but Gem had to go and walk in some paint.” Sam groaned, eliciting a few chuckles and laughs around the table.

 You had just finished helping Steve put down the new wooden flooring in the apartment, the far corner was covered in a tarp as Sam very precisely painted the exposed pipes in a nice duck egg blue colour. Despite his grumbles and complaints, you could tell he was actually enjoying the painting, as much as he liked to make it appear as if he hated it.

 “Almost done up here, you still taking us out for drinks after, Terminator?” Sam called over his shoulder at Bucky who snorted, a smirk working its way onto his lips as he pulled up some painters tape from the other week that had accidentally been left on the skirting board. “Yeah, yeah, we’re going as soon as we’re done, promise.” Bucky nodded as he balled up the tape.

 Suddenly, as you went off to wash your hands, you heard Sam shriek like you’d never heard before. “No, no, no, no!” He cried out, Steve and Bucky immediately collapsing into laughter as Gemini leapt out of the paint tray Sam had been using and ran straight across the new deep brown wooden flooring. You smiled fondly as Bucky scooped up the little Maine Coon whilst she wildly protested and he took her out of the room to clean her up.

 “Oh shit, I’m so sorry, you just put that flooring down.” Sam groaned. “I should’ve known better than to put the damn tray on the floor.” He huffed, moving to start clearing up the paint but you let out a cacophony of unintelligible noises to stop him. Both Steve and Sam looked at you a little confused, Steve tilting his head to the side. “Leave it, I kinda like the paw prints.” You giggled, admiring Gemini’s little bright blue paw prints on the flooring. “But she made a mess!” Sam protested, sure that it was better to just clear it up. “Nah, she added her artistic flair to the place.” You giggled, shaking it off.

 Bucky was far from disappointed when he discovered that you’d asked the boys not to clear up the paint and he thoroughly enjoyed the line of prints that stretched from one end of the living area to the other. “Kinda makes it a bit more homey, don’t you think?” Bucky asked as you both enjoyed the little prints on the floor. “Definitely.” You nodded with a grin.

 “Ooh and not to mention two years ago when Cap finally asked Nat out on a date.” Tony cut in, Nat grinning fondly at her boyfriend as he squeezed her hand. “You lost your touch as a spy that day, Barnes.” Nat giggled. “Hey, I retired from spying years ago, Natalia.” Bucky used her full first name as he pointed at her with a raised bow, trying hard to hold back his playful smile and failing.

 “Hey, sweetheart. One black coffee, a latte macchiato and two of your best cakes, please.” Steve grinned at you while Nat discreetly held his hand under the counter, but you could see what was going on. “You got it Cap.” You playfully saluted at him before shuffling off to make his drinks, leaving Bucky in charge of ringing up their order for cakes and serving the next person.

 “Two coffees, a Sol muffin and a Luna muffin.” You smiled, setting down the tray and handing both Steve and Nat their cakes. “Thanks, sweetheart.” Steve smiled at you and as you were walking away you glanced back to see them holding hands again, trying hard to hide it.

 “Hey pretty girl.” Bucky spoke softly as you sidled up to him during a break between customers, having served the whole line of people, you had a few minutes before either of you needed to serve again. “Hey Buck, you notice Steve and Nat?” You asked, nodding your head in their direction. Bucky scoffed and nodded. “Of course I noticed, how could I not notice my best friend and his crush?” Bucky asked, obviously not catching your drift. “No, no, I meant really notice.” You pushed a little, glancing in their direction as they giggled over something.

 “They look like they’re getting cosy over there.” He remarked, watching as they both got up at moved over to the reading nook. Perhaps they thought you couldn’t seem them around the corner, but both you and Bucky slowly peered over the counter, keeping yourselves hidden behind a display on the countertop. Bucky leaned over, head just above yours and he watched the pair as he drank down some of your homemade tea he’d brewed from himself.

 “Oh my god.” You spoke under your breath, watching as Steve and Nat started making out on the loveseat. Bucky almost near choked to death on his tea, almost spilling it everywhere, but managed to stop himself, both Steve and Nat catching you both watching them and you shyly smiled and waved at them before disappearing behind the counter, Bucky completely frozen as he stared at them. All they could see was your little hand wrapping around his shirt collar and pulling him out of their line of sight before they laughed it off and continued their date in the back of your coffee shop.  

 “We’re just glad you two finally started dating, it was about damn time!” Sam nudged Steve in the side. “You didn’t have to get dirty on my loveseat!” Bucky chuckled at the couple once they’d retold the story, several people butting in with random details and small observations here and there. “Oh come on, I’m sure you two have gotten dirtier than us in this café.” Nat winked, making both Bucky and Steve blush while you sunk down a little in your seat. “Besides, it’s called a loveseat for a reason, right?” Pietro cut in, Sam trying to stop his laughter as Clint playfully smacked Pietro’s arm. “Right.” Nat grinned. “I know what you two get up to.” She winked at you, making your eyes go wide as you slid further down.

“I bet you-.”

“I don’t wanna know!” Peter interrupted, standing up awkwardly from his seat, sending Tony into a fit of giggles at his awkwardness. “Can you tell us something less… Incriminating?” He squeaked out as he sat back down again, Bucky snorting at his reaction.

 “Okay, okay there is one more story.” Bucky smiled, you looked up at him a little perplexed. Perhaps there was one you had forgotten. “This started a few weeks ago.” Bucky began, shifting in his step a little. “Stand up doll, you’re the main focus of this one.” He gestured for you to get up, holding out his hand for you to grab onto as you stood. “So I went out a few weeks ago, I’d been thinking about today a lot, I wanted to make our little party special.” Bucky smiled fondly at everyone. “On my way back I stopped at a store and I saw something so perfect for today that I just had to get it.” He grinned. “I didn’t get it out until now because it’s a surprise.” Bucky turned to you.

 “So, in celebration of our years in this café, I wanted to give you something.” Bucky grinned. “You helped me through so much, you helped me to become human again and learn how to function properly. It wasn’t just the big things, it was small stuff too, like sitting on chairs and sleeping on an actual bed and not the floor.” He went on, everyone falling silent as they listened, Bucky’s full attention was on you this time, rather than the whole group. “You helped me embrace love again, to accept the feeling of love again.” Bucky almost teared up himself when he saw you getting glassy eyed. “I wanted and still want to do everything I possibly ever can to repay everything you’ve given me.” He choked out, taking a short pause to compose himself.

 “So, this is the start of that.” Bucky spoke quietly, quickly pulling out a box from his pocket and dropping to one knee, the whole table was suddenly a mixture of gasps and hushed whispers of surprise. You clapped your hands over your mouth in surprise, tears springing to your eyes as you let them run freely down your cheeks.

 “Doll, pretty girl, darlin’, will you marry me?” Bucky asked, flipping open the top of the box as he tried to hold his own emotions together, just long enough that he’d be able to see your reactions clearly. You couldn’t speak, your throat felt like it was too tight to even form words, so you nodded frantically, letting out a few sobs as you let Bucky take your left hand in his so he could slide the ring on. It wasn’t a diamond, it was something more unique, something that fit both you and Bucky so well. It was a little space rock, a Lunar rock to be exact and it was beautiful.

 Everyone waited for your moment to pass before they erupted into cheers and celebration. Tears were cried, hugs were shared and smiles all around. Pepper practically wept the whole way through, Wanda joining her while Pietro held her hand and shared a few of his own tears with his sister at the sweet engagement. Steve was bawling, tears streaming down his face as he watched his two best friends get engaged, one of which he considered his little sister and he thought about how you’d both changed and grown so much over the years, how both of you had been so good for each other.

 The party went on after everyone had celebrated your engagement and Tony, Pepper and Steve decided they would take over the catering rather than you and Bucky, allowing you both to enjoy the party while they served the food and drinks and later the dessert and alcohol, Steve insisting on staying behind at the end to help clear up, along with Thor who’d been adamant he needed to help out.

 The boys had left after clearing up, locking up the downstairs before they went home while you and Bucky took things upstairs to your apartment. Gemini had made herself comfortable in one of her many cat beds that had been gifted to her. She was often treated like a spoiled little kid, given a plethora of toys, beds, hiding spots, clothing and general gifts here and there.

 “God, this is the life I dreamed of every night.” Bucky sighed as he held you close, your head resting on his bare chest. “Living in a nice place with a pretty girl who I’m engaged to, a sweet little cat and a job that I genuinely enjoy.” Bucky spoke quickly as he brushed some of your hair out of the way. “Never thought I’d have any of this, if I’m honest.” He sighed and you squeezed him around the middle. “I’m the luckiest man alive.” He whispered. “We’re both lucky, Buck. You changed my life for the better.” You smiled into his chest as you snuggled a little closer to him. “So did you, doll.” Bucky agreed, keeping his voice quiet as he held you tightly against him.

 You lay in silence for a few moments, both of you enjoying the company of one another. Bucky gently took your hand in his as he quietly studied the ring on your finger. You both smiled at it, it felt like you’d ended another chapter of your story together and begun a new one.

 “I’m glad we have each other, doll. I wish I could go back and tell myself that I had something so wonderful to look forward to, perhaps it would have helped me not break so much.” Bucky sighed. “Perhaps we were supposed to help each other.” You pondered. You’d both fixed each other, not necessarily with romance, most of it had been through gentle friendship at the start, coaxing each other to open up and find comfort in one another before it slowly turned romantic.

“Perhaps we were.” Bucky nodded, a soft smile on his face as he turned his head to kiss your forehead gently.

 “I think I’m ready for the next part of our journey.” Bucky murmured, looking down at you. “I think I am too.” You grinned up at him.

Bucky leaned down and captured your soft lips in a gentle kiss, his warmth against you as he kissed you slow and passionately. He couldn’t be happier. You’d given him everything he needed and more. He was ready to take on the whole damn world for you if that’s what you wanted. Bucky’s tongue gently caressed yours as he cradled your head with his hand, the other gripping your waist as your fingers gripped at the nape of his neck and brushed at his beard. A soft hum rumbled through his chest as he kissed you, wanting to remember every detail of you, every detail of the day that he’d proposed to you.

 When he broke the kiss, Bucky looked down at your soft eyes, his heart melting at the sight of your sweet features and he grinned. “I love you.” He whispered, gently brushing some of your hair away. “I love you too, Bucky.” You smiled up at him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away again and settling down against his side.

God, I am so damn lucky. We are so lucky.

You did it Barnes, you got the life you wanted with the girl you love.

Bucky stayed awake as you fell asleep against him and he smiled to himself, thinking about all the ways he wanted to show you love and all the things he wanted to do with you in your next chapter of life together.

He couldn’t wait.

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