#anYWAY yeah i wrote the aftermath n all that but it’s a part of a piece that i don’t know if i’ll ever finish :((

[hadesforpreswrites]

dirty laundry, pt. 1

a/n: i wrote this when i was feeling incredibly low. it's based on something that happened to me. the title is from all time low. might have a part 2.

before you read this, be aware that this particular piece deals with the after effects of trauma (rape). it doesn't deal with it right after the incident but it shows how even after over a decade it can still affect someone.

before we proceed further: this is your warning that description of sexual assault on a minor will happen. this is based on truth as well as being a work of fan fiction.

i fought so hard with myself to even post this but was encouraged by @remedyx. if you don't want to read it, please by all means don't. but if you do, please be kind.

if something similar has happened to you, please reach out to me if you feel like you need to talk. i love you, you are worthy.

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: talk of past sexual assault, trauma talk, depictions of depressive episode

word count: 2,585

summary: after seeing something triggering online, y/n is struggling. noah learns some deep secrets of his friend and tries to help.

part two part three part four part five

she’s got her secrets/yeah, i’ve got mine too

meeting friends when you’re adults means you have to understand that you will not know everything about them as easily as if you were kids. it was something that rang true for everyone. 

noah understood this and was ready and willing for his friends to have secrets from him. pasts that didn’t want or need to be explained. all that mattered to him was that they were there here and now.

that is until one day when his friend messaged a group chat that consisted of him, andy biersack, and his other friend, scarlett. scarlett messaged them saying that their other friend, one they had planned a birthday party for in this very group chat, was having a very hard time. 

that wasn’t new, she had been having a rough go of it off and on for a couple of months. something to do with her meds and the pharmacy being out-of-stock, something that confused the hell out of noah. but something about this time felt different.

noah abruptly stood up, startling his friends that he was with. in his worry and being glued to his phone for the last however many minutes, he had almost forgotten where he was. 

“you good, man?” nick asked.

“yeah, i just gotta go do something for a friend.”

“is it y/n?” jolly teased. 

“as a matter of fact, yes,” noah said while gathering his things. he waved to his friends, promising to meet up with them again soon, and took off out of the house.

he barely buckled his seatbelt before taking off in his car toward scarlett and y/n’s house. in his relatively short drive, his brain was swirling with possibilities of what was wrong. why had scarlett threatened men specifically? (this time anyway) could he still pick a lock? (probably) what if y/n didn’t want to see them? (she usually did but what if this time was different?) what could he do specifically to make her feel better? (maybe ice cream - she likes ice cream) could he get her to open up and spill this obviously heartbreaking secret to him? (he sure hopes so, but is he prepared for the aftermath?)

he barely registered that he had pulled into the driveway beside andy’s car because it was such an autopilot response to go to their house at this point. he locked his car and walked up to the front door. he didn’t even bother knocking as he entered and was met by the smell of pizza baking in the oven. 

“great! everyone’s here!” scarlett said loud enough to be heard throughout the house - obviously trying to get y/n’s attention. 

“is she still in there?” noah asked, slipping his shoes off at the door. 

“only came out to get water right before we got here,” juliet said, casting a glance down the hall. 

“door may be unlocked now though,” scarlett said thoughtfully. “maybe i’ll go peek my head in.”

“i’ll do it,” noah offered, quickly. too quickly if the smirks on his friends’ faces was any indication. he shook his head as he walked down the hall toward y/n’s room.

he knocked softly and listened closely. “i’m fine,” a quiet voice sounded through the wood, followed by a sniffle. 

“you don’t sound fine, doll,” he said as he leaned his forehead against the door. “can i come in? please?”

“it’s unlocked.”

when he entered her room, his heart shattered. the ever-present blue twinkle lights she had strung around her room had been shut off, along with any mention of light from anywhere else, except her phone screen. she had her comforter pulled up to her ear with her back facing him.

he shut the door softly behind him and padded across to the bed. he climbed under the covers and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight to him. he felt her stiffen at the contact but not pull away, instead leaning into him once she calmed.

he knew this had to be crossing some sort of imaginary line he’d set for himself but he couldn’t help himself. his friend, honestly probably his best friend, was hurting and that trumped any romantic feelings he has for her.

“when did you get here?” she asked, sniffling again.

“just now. needed to know you were at least physically okay. what happened? i thought you got your meds worked out?” he asked, softly.

“i did. it’s not that. i wish it were that because then i don’t feel like i’ve failed.”

“babe, whatever it is, you haven’t failed anything.”

“yes, i have. i thought i’d worked through it and then i see one thing online and suddenly my brain throws away over a decade of work,” her hand moves to wipe newly fallen tears.

“do you want to talk about it?” he asks, realizing it may be a feeble attempt.

“no. but i should,” she sighs before turning around to face him. “i just don’t want you to think differently of me.”

he keeps his arms firmly around her and chances a kiss to the top of her head. “y/n, i think the world of you and nothing is gonna change that.”

“promise?” he could feel his t-shirt dampen with tears. 

he pulled away just enough so he could look her in her eyes. eyes that held a pain he never knew was there. he feels a sense of rage bubble up in him at whoever caused this precious human this amount of pain. “promise.”

she took a steadying breath and began to sit up. they sat side-by-side, backs against the headboard, his legs spread in front of him and hers pulled up to her chest, protecting herself. 

“when i was 15, i was in a really bad place. i was undiagnosed, unmedicated, and wanting love. so i took what i could get from whoever i could get it from. i wasn’t promiscuous or anything, in fact i’ve never had sex. i just wanted someone to love me because i couldn’t love myself. 

i dated this guy who was all kinds of wrong but i thought i was in love. he kept breaking my heart so one day when we were broken up, i decided to invite his friend over to hang out. i thought he was cute and we made out and stuff but that was as far as i wanted it to go,” she took a breath and a drink of water as tears filled her eyes again.

he knew where this was going and he felt himself getting even more angry but he let her keep going. 

“i tried to keep him off me, i really did. he was pulling my shorts so hard and i was trying to keep them on, i thought my nails would break. i kept crying and saying no over and over. but it was like it didn’t matter. like he didn’t hear me. but i know he did because when he stopped, he called me a tease and wiped his hand on a stuffed animal that was near the bed.”

he wanted so badly to hold her and tell her he’d never let that happen to her again, but he held himself back not wanting to make things worse. 

she cleared her throat after a moment of pause. “anyway, i was working through it on my own for years and didn’t tell anyone until like a year later. and then when i got in therapy we worked on it for a bit and i thought i had gotten better. but i was scrolling through tumblr and came across this story that was non-con, non-consensual, and it just fucking broke me.

i don’t normally kinkshame or tell people what they shouldn’t do because that’s their business but i’ll never understand non-consensual, rape fantasies. there’s absolutely nothing to fantasize about. it’s humiliating. it’s painful. physically, mentally, and emotionally. it makes you feel like you’ll never be clean again and that you’re not worthy of even the smallest of respect or love.

noah, i worked so hard to make myself believe that i’m not dirty or broken and that i am worthy. i worked so hard and it was just stripped away from me again like it was nothing.”

“i know you did. you always work hard. and let me tell you something,” he moved so he was right in front of her on his knees. he lifted her chin so she looked at him. “you are so worthy. you’re the worthiest person i know. you deserve the world and he doesn’t even deserve a grave. you’re not broken or dirty, you’re strong and beautiful. and i am so lucky to have you in my life, you know that, right? and now you don’t have to work as hard because you won’t be doing it by yourself.”

“promise?” her voice was small.

“i promise,” he confirmed.

she basically launched herself at him with a sob and wrapped her arms around him. he pulled her into his lap and held her. oh how he had imagined this moment, but she was not crying in his imagination.

“will you stay with me?” she asked into his chest.

“always,” he kissed the top of her head. 

after some time, she stopped shaking from crying and relaxed in his arms.

“let’s get you some food,” he said.

“ice cream?”

“absolutely,” he chuckled. “but i think scarlett made pizza if you want some of that first. if there’s any left, andy and juliet are here too.”

“i might could do that, then ice cream,” she decided, pulling away from him.

“deal,” he stood up from the bed, taking her with him. after setting her down on her feet, he grabbed her hand - just to make sure she knew he was staying by her side, and they walked toward the kitchen.

“hey, sunshine,” andy said as they emerged from the darkened hallway.

“hey, sorry,” she said as she wrapped an arm around him and then juliet, still holding noah’s hand. 

“you don’t have to apologize,” juliet said, as she smoothed the other woman’s hair. “you’re allowed to have people worry about you.”

“we’re more than happy to be those people for you,” andy backed her up.

y/n gave them a small smile and eyed the pizza.

“here’s your gross ass pizza, my love,” scarlett said, handing her a plate with a piece of her favorite pizza on it.

“you’re the best roommate a girl could have,” she said, sitting at the bar by andy, noah sitting on her other side. 

“yeah, yeah,” scarlett said, intently watching as y/n took a bite of her pizza. 

conversation buzzed around them as she finished her slice, she only wanted one right now - her main focus on the ice cream in her future. noah participated in the conversation on the outside but on the inside he was replaying her story over and over in his head like a movie on loop. he was angry for her. he had questions. but he wasn’t sure when was the right time to ask - though he knew not right now in front of everyone. 

he must have zoned out because when he came too he was met with the expectant eyes of y/n.

“sorry, what?”

“ice cream?”

“of course,” he replied, rising from his spot at the bar. 

“let me go change real quick,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.

“for why?” 

“i’m in pajamas?” she motioned to her shorts and oversized t-shirt. a shirt that he just realized belonged to him at one point.

“we don’t have to get out of the car,” he said, standing up fully. “you look fine.” he didn’t miss the look that andy, juliet, and scarlett passed between them. 

“you don’t let people eat in your car,” she trailed off. 

he leaned down to look her in the eye, “consider yourself special, then. let’s go.”

before he turned around he caught a glimpse of a blush creep on her face and felt a sense of pride. he didn’t catch the way she looked at scarlett with wide eyes, or the way juliet motioned for her to move. andy was grinning at the whole scene. 

she got up and slipped on a pair of sandals that were near the door and followed noah out the door and toward his car. he opened the passenger door for her. “well, thank you kind sir,” she said before sliding into the seat.

he chuckled as he shut the door and jogged around to the driver’s side. once he was buckled and started toward her favorite ice cream place, he chanced a look at y/n as she looked out the window.

“hey,” he said softly. “you okay?”

“i will be,” she answered. “it’s just a lot to process.”

“i can imagine. can i ask you something?”

“of course.”

“when you were telling me what happened, you said that you’d never had sex before it happened?”

“yeah. so my first and only experience with sex was that. which is why i always get weird when you guys start talking about it,” she explained. 

“i’d always wondered. wait. did you say your only experience?” he was baffled. 

“yeah,” she answered, finally fully looking at him.

“that honestly explains so much. and also i’m so sorry that your experience was that.”

“you don’t have to apologize. it happened. it sucks. it sucks a lot. and sometimes i feel like i’m missing out on a whole world. but most of the time i’m fine.”

“don’t do that,” he scolded.

“do what?”

“minimize your trauma to make you seem more palatable. it’s not helpful. it’s not cute.”

she went quiet and looked away, back out the window.

he kicked himself. that came out a lot harsher than he meant. he pulled into a parking spot at the ice cream place and told her to sit tight while he went to get the ice cream. she didn’t argue.

“y/n,” he said when he slid back into his seat, ice cream in hand.

she was surprised to see he got exactly what she wanted, not that she deviated from what she liked all that often. she just wasn’t aware of how much he paid attention to her. 

“i didn’t-” he started. “i didn’t mean for that to come out that way. i just meant that i don’t want you to minimize with me. you’re allowed to feel however you feel.”

“i know. i just guess i didn’t realize that’s what i was doing.”

“you do it all the time, doll. i just never knew why and i think i get it now.”

she smiled softly. “how did you know which ice cream i wanted?” she knew the change in subject wouldn’t go unnoticed but hoped he would catch on that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore for the time being. 

he pulled out his phone and went to the notes app. “i keep track of your favorites.”

she blushed. “why?”

“haven’t caught on yet?” he smirked at her. 

“caught on to what?”

“i’m practically at your beck and call. i let you and no one else eat in my car. i apparently let you wear my clothes,” he gestured to the t-shirt she was wearing.

“noah, i don’t understand.”

“how can someone be so smart and so blind at the same time? i’m basically in love with you, dummy.”

[straycalamities]

how did you come up with making Entre? What inspired you?

the onceler LOL and homestuck

okay story time w chase ahem

so actually how i got into tumblr at all is very relevant to the chain of events that led to entre existing. so before here, i was mainly on a...particular art webbed site that was basically a sinking ship circa: 2010 so i forgot how i heard about tumblr? but i joined here at first just to do naruto comm rp. like my only account was a naruto rp account for the first... i dont remember how long

eventually i got curious enough to make a personal account and started being active on that. a bunch of my friendgroup from the other site moved with me and we were just hanging out being naruto nerds. at some point i got into homestuck/learned about the askblog format. i don't remember which came first, but i DID run kibanaru and flutterdash askblogs before the lorax was a blip on my radar

i remember when i was in the homestuck fandom, i was so used to the naruto fandom where like..sure it's huge but i had established myself in a corner of it and it felt very like... it was a community! and in the homestuck fandom i didn't feel like that at all. i felt swept out to sea and it was very lonely tbh aside from the friends id manage to drag with me into it, but i always felt a certain dissatisfaction from my time in it

a friend of mine was the one to show me the lorax and the once-ler. i don't...remember how THEY found him, but they were already very into him before they even came to me about him. and they basically nagged me into watching the movie LMFAO (this was when the movie was still freshly in theaters so all we had was shitty camrips and LiveStream was a thing) so i started to draw smexy onceler and oncest fanart to mess with them and...well y'know ye olde saying about doing things as a joke.

so yeah i kinda got...genuinely interested in him. especially after i watched the 72' short and reread the book and was like wait. this movie is mid as hell actually. (the siren song of mid media) and i was like "well if /i/ wrote the movie id do this n this n this n this" and then all that added up in my head and i was like wait.

what if i did a once-ler askblog where i just change certain things to what i like? it wasnt gonna be a complete revamp/remastering because i wanted to do a proper askblog so i wanted to have his character be recognizable to any fans of the onceler. and this was wayyyyy before anyone was getting the idea to do the very creative and expansive onceler takes we have these days as a norm. so it was kinda like? being shoehorned into being Canon!Once-ler because?? that's just how you did askblogs back then

BUT!! there were a few other askblogs already around back then (end of April 2012 for ref) so i didn't wanna do what everyone else was doing (very much Established Business Once-ler/Greed-ler, Vest-ler/Oncie, or Aftermath Once-ler) so i got the idea to do the onceler but! he's still very fresh and new to his business. still basically vest-ler/oncie in personality but with big things on the horizon.

i started creating his blog the weekend before may. that's why his birthday is May 1 because that's when i officially started his blog and posted his first post and all that. literally when he was born.

so yeah this was all to try and find my niche in a community again as well as do what i'd already been doing for years now: waving my headcanons in ppls faces via my art LMFAO

it was honestly pretty new for me in a bunch of ways so it was very scary. i even tried to keep it a total secret at first. i thought people wouldn't recognize me for my art style.... (yeah idk how i thought that'd work either) and i mean??? for the most part that was true because it's not like anyone in the once-ler fandom would've known me beforehand anyways

so for the first uhhh...idk it didn't last long tho..i was a secret mod, but i got too itchy about sharing art that i didn't wanna put on his blog so i broke that pretty quick. i had a lot of personal rules i put on myself on what to do/not to do on and with his blog. and i still, to this day, follow a handful of them. so when i drew other stuff that i didn't think fit on his blog, i was like well damn i wish i could show this somehow...

tho sometimes i wish i'd tried to keep up the secret mod shtick a little longer

anywho. from there it's kinda like..he really just grew on his own. new ideas, new inspiration, new experiences shaping this or that. now i can write him without touching him for years like i just picked him up yesterday. he's that wormed in my damn brain at this point. he's basically his own person sitting in my head telling me what to do with him/what he'd say

so yeah at first? it was just me trying to write a very accurate 2012 movie onceler with a few tweaks. and then he just grew organically into what he is now. that's still his root and so that's still the default direction i try to take, but he definitely has a lot of things that make him his own person at this point too. even on his main blog.

as for why he's so stupid goofy. well. that's because i like drawing dumb expressions. the end. and in the end i'm glad his main blog remained super unserious and lighthearted because it really helped me mentally a bunch (those random spikes in activity? yeah it was for my own mental health LMFAO he helps me...a lot...because of the escapism and comedy)

bonus: as for truffula flu entre. i don't remember if something in particular inspired me to make him the ender of the world. i just felt like it'd be a fitting story for the once-ler for him to be in that spot. and from there i just approached him how i thought someone like him would react were he to find himself in that position.

my goal was always to make him as human as possible. like he's technically the villain of this story, but he's also the protagonist. yaknow. so i wanted to really interweave those two ideas interestingly into his character (and now im obsessed w it)

originally i thought of truffula flu as everyone doing their own storylines. i didn't expect at all that everyone would adopt MINE as all of THEIR canons. that was LKFJSLDKF a big surprise for me i was like wait what. i guess it seems silly now in retrospect that i didn't expect that, but i was just like "well this is entre's story. ppl can do whatever else they want tho" but suddenly entre's story was everyone's story. and it's pretty cool i can't lie

[nahisummerhold]

Diary… nope

Nahi reported in and was taken with the others on a tour of Dornogal. Her main impression? Square. Never before had she been in such a straight edged place and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Maybe it was just too much stone, considering their hosts in the city it made sense, but that didn’t mean it was a place that she connected with. Suddenly she was hit with a pang of bone deep loss for her home and gardens in Dalaran, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then continued on with a calm demeanor.

The debriefing was interesting, there was a lot of information taken in, much of it was memorized so she could process it later The most distinct impression on her was how people reacted to the list of those missing and presumed dead, she didn’t know any of them, of course, but it touched her just the same.

There was some surprise to see people she knew there, she had expected Dice but Fio and Kai were as well. Her first thought was not to go to them, she was trying to put her performer habits aside and worried she would greet them as she normally did. High energy, overly friendly and a bit distracted didn't seem like good qualities for a mercenary crew, nor were they something she felt she could keep up day to day with people she was living closely with. 

It had been a decision she made over the past couple of weeks that she would work to be authentic more often. The showman public face was still there, it would always be a big part of who she was, but she did not want to separate the two sides as a way of life any longer. In almost fifteen years only her family, and recently a handful of friends, got to see the confident, down to earth, woman she had become through her mother’s injury and the aftermath, it might be time to let others know more of her.

When they were sent on their way to their temporary quarters, she settled in, then went outside to just people watch. It did not take long before she felt a little closed in by all the stone and considered going out further to see the land but didn’t feel like being kicked out for breaking rules on day one. To keep her wandering feet settled she reached out for her recent support system, taking out her family communicator, she clicked on her second to last text.

Nahi: Nave you made it to Khaz Algar?

Pathyn: Hey you! Yeah we are here and scouting.

N: What did you think of the city? P: It is rocky blocky.

N: Oh Sun bless! Thank you! I know rocks are natural and I have been living in floating cities, but it feels so artificial here.

P: The wilds are pretty, if you can ignore the random grouping of nerubians.

N:  Isn’t the point of us being here to not ignore them?

P: Don’t be so literal. Did you find my gift? If not, check your pack.

Getting up and heading back to the space she claimed, she dug to the bottom of her pack and found a book. Folding into a cross legged seat on the floor, she looked through it finding only blank pages.

N: Is this for Kyean? Written in magical ink or something? Did you mix us up?

P: No, I didn't buy him a going to war present. He is very jealous by the way, he wishes you texted him instead.

N: He has no reason to be, I don’t answer to him and you don’t want to fuck me anyway.

P: Well, now that you are not going home with so many assholes… Kyean just threw a rock at my head. Alright I read what I was typing out loud, I deserved that.

N: Asshole… Get back to the book, what is this for?

P: Him or me? Never mind, I know that both is the answer. It is a journal.

N: I am not keeping a diary, do I look like a diary person?

P: You wrote out notes and questions on the flair bartending, do the same with this experience. Ask me, ask Kye, ask people you are there with, or just figure out the answers on your own. Take notes on what you learn or see that you want to remember. 

N: Hmmm you have a point. Thank you Path.

P: I am always right. Sorry Nahi I have to go, be safe.

N: You be safe, I am in town.

There wasn’t a reply so she set her comm aside and picked up the journal, looking at the blank pages for a while before it dawned on her what she wanted to write first. Flipping to the back page she wrote the names of those missing, presumed dead.

@themercenaries

[inkykeiji]

AWWWW sd!nat reader crying on the phone to shouto n he—of course—validates her feelings w ‘yea i know, i know’ ‘dw i’m so proud of u’ lmao idk but he keeps comforting her until she stops cryING AHHHHHH

YES YES YES ANON EXACTLYYYYY just shouto in that soft, soothing voice—the one that eases her anxiety and ebbs her anger, cascading over her like melted dark chocolate engulfing ice cream—murmuring out agreements and affirmations like, ‘you’re right, he is such a fucking asshole,’ and ‘i know, sweetheart, i hate him too,’ and ‘nobody deserves to be treated that way—least of all you, angel,’ and ‘he’s not worth your tears, princess, i promise,’ <33333 just reader n shouto’s routine weekly phone call shit-talking touya and complaining about how much of a mean jerk he is <3 okayokayokay no one yell at me but i actually did write the aftermath of this,,,, aka, touya heard everything </3

[starlight-channie]

not there — bc

synopsis: why did Chan stopped sleeping? Is this all a part of his grief?

pairing(s): bang chan × fem reader

genre: angst! non idol au

t/w: death....?

word count: 835

masterlist

a/n: I wrote this instead of studying for my finals- so yeah this is a shitty one but I wanted to post anyways! Enjoy🌱

'white lilies' kinda like the aftermath of this imagine

"Why aren't you sleeping at night? Sleep is important for a human to survive. I know you're hurting inside and I want to help you, but I can't do it unless you work on your own." said his therapist seated in his chair looking at Chan with sympathetic eyes.

She was born with a weak heart and got a heart surgery when she was just 7 years old. She was healthy and could lead a normal life like everyone else, as the operation helped her. Years pass, she still takes her meds in time, but never a serious case. She was indeed living a normal life. Chan met her during college and immediately he was head over heels for her because she was polite, kind and nice. She was beautiful and had the prettiest smile. She was like the sun, always smiling and just radiating happy energy to everyone around her. Chan always felt content and happy with her, she was his home and he was hers. Soon enough they started dating. Chan loved her with his entire body, mind and soul. Everyone around them said they were soul mates because they were such a good fit together. They now share an apartment and is basically living their best life together. It was until her heart went weak again. Doctors said that it was weak, but it won't give up on her. She just had to take her medicine in time and then she could live till 70+ years. Chan was relieved when the doctors told him that it was not a big problem and that she could go on living her life the way she has until now.

Chan just sat there staring at the table that was between him and his therapist. He was alive, but practically dead inside. "I- um..." he started to speak but couldn't find words to say.

It was a sunny afternoon. Y/n and Chan were having a lazy day. Chan on the couch with y/n's head resting on his lap. "Want something to drink?" asked y/n, "Do we have coke?" replied Chan. "Let me check" y/n said, getting up from the couch and going to the kitchen to check their refrigerator for coke. "Oh, we do, " taking the cola out from fridge to pour them into the glasses. Chan wanted some snacks so he got up from the couch and went to the kitchen. Chan stood across y/n with the kitchen island between them. All of a sudden she felt a sharp pain against her chest, she immediately placed her hand over her chest, trying to massage the area where it hurts. Chan saw her and went to her in an instant. "Y/N, are you okay?? What happened?" Chan asked with a worried tone while grabbing her shoulders delicately. She groaned because of the excruciating pain she was in and after some few secs she lost her consciousness. She could've fallen to the ground, but Chan was there to catch her.

Y/N was laying there on the hospital bed connected to an IV. Chan slowly approached her and sat down on the chair next to her bed. Chan looked at her with teary eyes and gently took her hand into his. He dropped his head because he could no longer stay strong, tears running down his face. "You'll be alright. I am here, I'll always be" he whispered, looking up at her. Chan just stayed there softly looking at her unconscious self sleeping on the hospital bed. "Y/n.... I can rip my heart out and give it to you if you just ask me yeah?" his voice cracked as he said those words.

"Chan? Chan? Are you even listening to me?"

Chan looked up to see his therapist looking at him with the most concerned eyes. "I don't want to sleep" Chan said answering to the question that his therapist asked him previously. "Why? What's the reason?" asked his therapist because he truly wanted to help Chan overcome his grief.

"Because every time I sleep..... I see her, I see her smiling at me, holding my hands..... I can feel her warmth, I can hear her beautiful laugh... I can touch her, kiss her and hold her, but then I wake up and she's not there..... I wake up and I realize that I can never touch her, or hear her voice ever again because she is not here anymore.... And the pain I feel when I wake up and realize she's gone.? It's the same pain I experienced when I lost her.. It's like I am losing her for the first time over and over again." Chan answers while sobbing quietly.

But I wanna sleep next to you

And I wanna come home to you

I wanna hold hands with you

I wanna be close to you

©starlight-channie

[m-aster-of-spinjitzu]

the hues of an empty sky

Missing memories, or having two of them for one moment - not quite the same, but if there's one thing Jay's leant over the last few weeks, it's that literally nothing makes sense anymore.

Or, some Skybound aftermath, Zane actually expressing emotions about his memory switch being turned off for all those years, and what was supposed to be a 'they tell everyone about the erased timeline' fic, but it turned into a 'two characters who barely interact on screen talk at like one am in the morning, and don't actually tell the other what exactly they're alluding to the whole time' fic that I wrote at like one am- 

Also yeah, I realized too late that they split up to look for Wu after s7, we’re just gonna pretend that they waited a few days or something, idk anymore tbh, lol.

(I also didn't have time to edit - so please tell me where the typos are? 😂💛)

Word count: 4539

Prompt: crying, from @ninjago-bingo 's warm board.

Trigger warnings: the main character has a panic attack, and squeezes their fingernails into their hands once or twice but I think that's it.

*facepalms* also, guys, i’m so stupid - i literally just realized that this freaking CHANGES TENSE HALFWAY OHMYGOSH I-  i don’t think it’s super noticeable, but ugh, apologies to anyone who actually thought my writing was good lol-

---

It's cold.

Bitterly, freezing cold.

The biting chill of the air is a bit strange for this time of year, but, heck, that's nowhere near the craziest thing that's ever happened to him - not by a long shot.

He sighs, squinting at the stars dotted liberally against the black canvas of the sky.

Cole had once joked that one of them might be the remains of their golden weapons, after they'd hurled the burning mass into the sky - in another alternate timeline; one that only existed in the memories of a certain few.

Gosh - that seemed like such a long time ago.

Wouldn't it be nice to go back to that time, when he'd still thought that their powers were the coolest thing ever - instead of despising them for all the responsibility and sacrifice that came with them? When one of his biggest worries was whether the girl he had a crush on liked him back - not wondering if his friends would survive the night?

"I did not expect to find you awake at this hour, Jay."

Reflexivity, he jumps back, his mind twisting his friend's gentle voice into the- the djin's triumphant, accented one.

You're supposed to be a ninja. What good are you if your friends can still sneak up on you?

"Geez, warn a guy before you sneak up on him! I almost fell off the Bounty!"

"My apologies. I was... surprised to find you awake at this hour," Zane answers. "What are you doing?" "Couldn't sleep. It's too cold," he confesses, not entirely a lie. Ninjago wasn't 'that' far from the Sea of Sand, but he'd grown up in a much warmer area - unfortunately resulting in his practically nonexistent tolerance to the cold. That never failed to stop Kai from teasing him about it, though. He doesn't mention the pressing weight on his chest, almost tangible - or how it constantly makes him feel. Like he's being dragged through the darkness of an empty sky, spikes of fear making everything so freaking terrifying- "You?"

"I have been analyzing my memories of Pixal, in the hope that it may lead me to her whereabouts. However, all my efforts have proved... unsuccessful," Zane answers wearily, shifting his gaze to the sky.

Oh- oh. They'd all be so caught up in the chaos of the last few weeks - hey, it's not like any of them had asked the universe to permanently be out to get them! - that they'd forgotten Pixal was still offline.

"Hey, I'm sure that she's still there somewhere," he says, earnestly. "After all - she wouldn't be your girlfriend if she didn't pull a vanishing act every now and again, eh?"

The question is punctuated with a laugh, but he doesn't say that he's a little worried about her too. They hadn't talked much, but-

I can't see one of my best friends find out that his girlfriend is dead, a quiet voice at the back of his mind points out. Well - been there, done that, wouldn't recommend, he thinks bitterly. Emotional breakdowns and frequent nightmares apply. Anxiety attacks are half off, too!

It's quiet for a few minutes, neither of them seeing a need to break the silence. The wind blows softly through the sails above them; gray wisps of cloud revealing a pale sliver of moonlight that paints the sky in its glow.

It should be a peaceful night: beautiful, calm, no one trying to kill them or destroy their city - for a change.

His hands won't stop shaking.

It should be a peaceful night, but, as usual, the world is too freaking unfair for that-

He hasn't even slept for a full night in weeks! Well, not since- since-

Don't think about it! That's only going to make it worse, duh-

"Are you alright, Jay?"

"Yeah- I- I'm good, thanks," he says quickly, ignoring the way his breathing keeps speeding up. FSM, not this-

Not for the first time, the world suddenly becomes too loud - too much. Every little thing, from trying to breathe properly or even walk- feels insurmountable, because, gosh, oh gosh, it's going to come crashing down if he even moves-

The memory starts off the same as it always does.

Rubble strewn over the temple grounds, his friends literally reduced to nothing more than statues. A shot that hit the mark perfectly, but perfectly shattered his world in the process.

A poison-splattered dress, a terrifying realization.

Her well-aimed joke, but one that never fails to sting every time. Gosh, why hadn't they just allowed her to join their team in the first place? Maybe they could've prevented this- this- whole situation, if they hadn't been so freaking egotistical-

And, again, he's overwhelmed by the sheer sense of helplessness, all his power and training and skills completely useless to one of the people he cared most about. FSM, if only I hadn't used my first w-request so carelessly! If only I'd been able to escape- or, or if only I'd been able to assemble the team faster! If only-

Despite being in what must've been unimaginable pain, she offers a strained smile - a sweet gesture that, ironically, feels like she's poisoning him, because- because FSM, this is all so wrong, it wasn't supposed to end like this-

He watches with horror as her eyes dull and she stills in his arms.

She's gone, FSM, she's gone and it's all my fault-

"Jay?" a voice asks, concern evident in their tone. Distantly, he registers that he's having a breakdown in front of one of his best friends - one of the things he'd been trying really hard to avoid.

Dang it.

"I-" he tries to say, but, great, he's breathing too fast to even get the stupid words out.

"Breathe in for four seconds," Zane says, softly.

Four seconds? Time has no meaning right now, narrowed down to, like - falling down a chasm, terrified of what's at the bottom, except the fear's all around, this- this... foreboding thing of his mind that keeps yelling that he needs to run, or fight, but he can't, can't-

Right. Four seconds.

You're okay, you're fine, no one's trying to hurt you or your friends. She's not dead.

But what if- what if they're being dragged out of this ship right now? What if it was all a dream, and she's dead anyway, because all of us were too stupid to come up with another plan, and none of us could even do anything when she-

After a little while, when he could breathe a little easier, and the fear didn't feel like it was slamming into him from every possible direction, he slowly opened his eyes. Shakily, he wiped a tear from his face - as if that would wipe away all the weeks that had, theoretically, never even freaking happened.

The sky comes back into focus - pinpricks of light against pitch black. 

How was he going to come up with some sorta explanation without... well, explaining everything?

Great.

My nerves are frayed, and I have to lie to a walking lie detector - what could possibly go wrong?

"Are you alright?" Zane asks, his brows creased in concern.

"Heh heh, yeah. Probably just too many video games," he replies quickly, laughter a bit strained.

"You were muttering to yourself," his friend replies quietly. Ugh, trust the way-too-observant-nindroid to call him out on the remains of his facade. "If you do not mind me asking, what was 'all your fault'? I am sure that it was probably a misunderstanding."

You're the one who misunderstands everything, he thinks wearily, ignoring the part of him that yearns to tell someone else about... well, everything that's happened because of that stupid teapot. He's not one to keep secrets by nature, and it's been taking a bigger toll of him than he'd thought it would. Is this how Nya felt when she was still the Samurai? "It's- it's nothing, probably just nonsense."

"Are you sure? You seem... quite worried about something."

Dang it, were his hands still shaking? He presses his fingernails into his palms, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.

He's talking to one of his best friends, FSM. Weren't friends able to tell each other anything?

"Do you think it's easier to forget? Better?"

He didn't even realize he'd asked a question until Zane's eyes widened in surprise.

A forest coated in snow, ice crystals dangling from the tree branches above their heads. Plenty of screaming - way too much, he reflects, couldn't they have been a bit nicer? It must've been pretty jarring to learn that you weren't human, or that your father had erased years of your life from your mind - in that weird underground treehouse. Those crazy tree monsters - and the realization that they all had much more power than they'd thought.

"N- nevermind," he stutters, fleetingly thinking of kicking the deck. "That's way too personal, you don't have to answer it-"

"I do not mind," Zane says, a bit sadly.

Oh.

Heck, his friend was way too nice.

They gaze up at the stars for a few minutes, not really seeing them - one drowning under the weight of too many secrets, the other, too many memories.

It's quiet - too quiet.

Ugh, he thinks, sighing, that sounds like something a low-budget horror movie would start with, cringey sound effects to match.

But the silence is a painful reminder of the days he'd spent tossing and turning in a cramped cell - nothing but his worries and the bruises on his leg from that stupid ball and chain keeping him awake.

He's been trying hard - maybe too hard - to avoid being alone, avoid being in a situation where they've gotta be quiet ever since then, because, dang it, his memories always seem to fill the silence, and they're always far more terrifying than they should be-

It's easier, in a way, to be mocked for his stupid jokes than it is to relive a single moment from those nightmarish few weeks.

Almost reflexively, he grasps for something to fill the quiet.

"Heh, this is a bit awkward. It's okay if you wanna leave-"

"I do not mind," Zane echoes, walking a bit closer. "It is not as if I need to sleep. But... I do not quite know what to think of your question."

There comes the answer - or a semblance of one at least, and it's the last thing he'd been expecting.

"You don't know?" he blurts out before he can even think of trying to filter the thought. Way to treat your friend who's been nothing but kind to you, Jay. "But you're- you're a nindroid! You know everything-"

"Pixal," his friend mutters softly, sighing, and the hurt, the fear, laced through the word makes something in his heart practically twist. He knows all too well what it feels like to be in that situation - even if, technically, it had never happened.

Then- "I wish that were true. But I suppose that my emotions make certain situations much more complicated than... than they need to be. Thus I cannot give my perspective on this - or, at least, without sounding quite conflicted."

"You know that you're allowed to be conflicted, right? Even the coolest Nindroids don't know everything."

"...Yes, I suppose so."

Jay frowns at the almost subconscious hesitation, eyebrows creasing in concern.

"Seriously," he starts earnestly. They're both leaning on one of the railings just above the deck now. "Just 'cause you're a nindroid doesn't mean that you've gotta chase some kind of perfection that doesn't even exist."

He doesn't miss how Zane's eyes widen in shock, their bright blue hue glowing a little brighter - and heck, if that doesn't hurt even more than the earlier realization.

"Besides - it's not like none of us haven't made mistakes before. Hate to go all Wu on ya, but they help us learn or some stupid thing like that. Even if the mistake is trying not to make 'em, you know?"

"Thank you," Zane replies, a tired smile on his face. "Even the most advanced tech is susceptible to error, I suppose."

They've all made lots of mistakes, heaven forbid if one of them is still agonizing over messing up over the crazy situations the universe constantly put them in. It's not like they were told they'd have to face more ancient evil armies than they could count, were they?

Maybe it's time to stop focusing on events that never even happened, and pay more attention to your friends. What's the point of being part of this team if you're always scared or selfish?

"Shut up," he mumbles, rubbing his temples. What's the point of fighting if your own brain is gonna fight you whenever it gets a chance? A few seconds later, he schools his face back into his default anxious grin. "Great, cause I- I- could use your advice on something." "Alright," comes the quiet reply, his friend seemingly lost in thought.

"What if you wanted to tell someone something, but you couldn't?"

His breathing starts to speed up again, but he grips the deck until his fingers are practically bruised, stark white against his tanned skin. Not this time-

"Is this what you were referring to earlier? An event that you blamed yourself for?" Zane asks, eyes flitting between the floor and the sky.

Dang it, way too observant as usual. He masks his surprise with a laugh, but the conversation definitely isn't going as planned and, oh gosh oh gosh, what if-

No, there's no way that any of them would even believe that. Besides - no one can remember stuff that they've forgotten, especially if magic's at play.

"Yeah, kinda," and he's surprised by how steady his voice sounds. It's not easy to even think about that- event, talking about it is a whole different thing. A much more difficult thing, but also - a bit, a little bit, easier. "I-" "Apologies for interrupting," his friend interjects. "I suppose that I have not been entirely honest with you." What?

"A few days ago, I discovered a number of deleted memory files buried deep within my code."

Just like that, his whole world tilts out from underneath him.

It takes every ounce of his strength to keep himself from falling into the abyss again.

Wait, what?

Has he really known for all this time? It's been weeks! Surely he would've said something? It can't be, it never even-

The rational part of his mind points out that he can remember every day of those few weeks. Well, he was the one to make the wish - magical logic is kinda stupid, but maybe that's why he had to remember it or something?

Well then, a small voice interjects, why was Nya cursed to remember everything too?

Of course, even the stupid magical logic doesn't even make sense to the one who caused this whole mess in the first place.

"They were almost entirely corrupted - scrambled in a way that I am not familiar with. However, I did realize that certain files bore dates that have not even occurred yet. I dismissed it as a problem with my code, however..."

Breathe, calm down, it's not like he was able to process them or anything-

We agreed that no one was supposed to know! What if they end up blaming us for keeping it a secret this long, or, or-

"I mean, they could've been-" he starts, but the way in which he's nervously twisting his fingers is a pretty clear indication that he's lying, dang it.

"So when you mentioned that you were unable to tell someone something - did you mean that it was because they had quite literally forgotten about it?"

Great. Fantastic. Of course the literal robot has pieced it together by now-

He squeezes his eyes shut for a minute, hoping that if he ignores the problem, maybe it'll go away.

Okay, fine, maybe he's trying to figure out a way to fix this whole mess. Doesn't mean that he's any closer to coming up with a solution, though.

"Er, yeah," he whispers, shoulders slumped, eyes still firmly shut. Because gosh, he doesn't want to - can't, can't - see the realization dawn that, yeah, he's lied to people he's known for years and years, even though they've all seen way too many times that secrets bring nothing but trouble-

"Well, then - I would say that you don't have to tell them," Zane replies, surprisingly... earnestly? That, or he's either too freaked out to understand the tone properly. Could be either.

He opens his eyes, hesitantly.

And it comes as a bit of a shock to find nothing but concern reflected in his friend's.

The almost persistent weight on his chest feels a little lighter now, like the sky isn't as quite so empty.

Well, it still kinda is. But that doesn't hold as much weight as he'd thought it did - not if one of his friends is willing to look past that; past the heaviness of holding up all those memories with nothing his single star, flickering in and out of the darkness, to try and light the unforgiving darkness of the sky.

"Why?" Jay asks, so quietly he can barely hear it himself. "Don't I owe it to them? Do you?"

"No. Definitely not," comes the reply, so full of conviction that he almost stumbles back. Why-

"My father..."

Oh- oh.

"thought it was better to spare me the pain of mourning him than for me to know who I was," Zane confesses, hesitantly. "Not that I disagree, necessarily. I just..."

He trails off, clutching the railing so hard that the wood almost snaps beneath his titanium fingers.

It takes Jay a little while to realize why - why exactly his friend, who has access to a wealth of knowledge and information, is grasping for an answer. Because- because, well, even if someone does something in your best interests - sometimes the choice isn't always up to them. Or maybe it is, but it was... difficult, to say the least, to let go of the fact that his parents had never told him the truth sooner. Not that he blames them, necessarily - it's not like they knew that his father would pass on before he'd even get the chance to meet him - but... it's confusing, and difficult, not to know why you were left at a junkyard as soon as you were born. Maybe if he'd known that sooner, he could've asked the one person who might've had answers - although it's not like hoping for the past to change will actually change it.

They don't even know that you know, a small voice at the back of his mind points out, and suddenly everything makes a lot more sense-

"You wanted a choice," he breathes, eyes widening. A choice - like one that he'd never been given, one that he stills struggles not to hold against two people who've always had his best interests at heart. Even if they did have the right to withhold that one thing, after all they've done for him - the 'what if's' still echo in his mind far more often than he'd like. "There's nothing wrong with that, even if it feels that way. I kinda get where you're coming from, dude, and it's... super confusing, but I'd be pretty mad if my memories were tampered with like that."

So would anyone, he realizes, heart sinking. Oh, great. Not helping-

"I- I suppose so?" Zane answers, but it sounds more like a question than a reply. "However, in the same vein, it would be unwise for you to give away your choice whilst you still have one." "But don't I owe it to everyone? You just said it, it's horrible to alter people's memories and I- I-" "Did we forget... whatever it was for a good reason? "I- I mean, I guess, but..." "Then you do not owe it to us to relive something that we do not even remember." The words should be a relief - and they kinda are. But some part of him really does want to explain the crazy alternate timeline, and everything that happened in it. It's just... really, really freaking difficult.

"What if- what if I wanted to, though?" Jay asks hysterically, running his hands through his hair in a frenzied sort of way. "And I still couldn't? I just, I-"

He cuts himself off with a bout of forced laughter.

Zane takes a moment to reply, the bright blue light in his eyes flickering - a small tell that he was thinking so deeply, his processors were literally sparking up a bit.

"You queried earlier if it was easier, or better, to forget. And while all situations are different, I suppose it is... well, subjective. What do you think?" Zane asks, softly.

Derailing the conversation a bit, but his friend's obviously smart enough to be leading up to something.

Sure, he'll go along with it.

"I mean, there are some things I'd rather forget, you know? I guess we all know what that feels like," Jay replies, the statement with oddly sad air to it. They're still kids, after all, and it gets a bit exhausting pretending that their superhero lives were all fun and games - when they'd just given him enough grey hair to last then lifetimes, and enough nightmares to keep him from ever getting the normal amount of sleep his mum always prattled on about.

Sleep, heh heh. Practically a foreign concept, now.

"And I know that stuff that happens, like shapes us or something - and Master Wu would probably go off on a whole ramble about why we learn from our mistakes or whatever," he laughs nervously, resisting the urge to just fall headfirst onto the deck of the stupid ship instead of continuing the conversation," and how 'our scars only make us stronger', crap like that, but I just-"

"I'm just really... tired of this," he confesses warily, shoulders slumped. "W- I remember so many horrible things, and I-" he breaks off, laughing bitterly. His voice takes on a sort of brittle quality, way too high pitched, "and I can't even talk about them, dude. If that's not the most pathetic thing ever, I dunno what is."

"It does not-"

"Don't say it," Jay mutters, rubbing his temples. "I know, I know, my feelings aren't pathetic, they're always valid, whatever, spare me the lecture-"

"That is not what I was going to say," Zane replies gently. "It just seems that you have answered your own question."

"Gee, which one?"

"I do not know how much helpful assistance I can provide in this situation, but it is understandable to wish certain events had never occurred. However, seeing as we cannot change the past, it seems unwise to dwell on said events if you can avoid it."

Jay stiffens, clamping a shaky hand over his mouth. Something seems to press down even harder on his chest, a heavy sort of weight that causes his breathing to speed up again. Don't say it don't say it there's no reason to warn them this time-

"If you would like to tell any of us about something, of course you are welcome to. It does not to be the whole story, after all. Just make sure that it is the decision you choose, not one you choose because of what you think how it will affect others," Zane finishes quietly, ducking his head as if he's embarrassed.

The stars are still white-hot, burning away some million miles above them.

"Thanks," he says, and puts his hand softly on Zane's shoulder. "I mean, I know - that all makes sense, I guess. It's just- I-"

"You want to?"

"Yeah," Jay starts, sighing, "I do. It's just- it's not just my choice. And I'm pretty much dying already right now, so, as fantastic as making it all worse sounds, hard pass."

Oops, maybe he shouldn't have said that last bit. They'd agreed not to tell anyone about it - even this conversation was cutting it way too close. It wasn't impossible for them to put everything together - they were a pretty smart group, after all, even without their resident inventor and engineer - and Jay didn't really know what he'd think if they did. Fearful? Relieved? Angry?

"That does... not sound great? Dying certainly does not seem-"

"It's called sarcasm, Zane."

"Oh- yes. My memory now accesses the fact that people often speak in that manner. It does seem a bit counterproductive, though. Why not just say what you mean?"

"Shut it, you have no clue how integral to my life it is," Jay replies with a halfhearted grin.

A few seconds later, he remembers something his friend had mentioned earlier, and the grin disappears.

"You know that you can talk to us if you're not happy, right?" he asks, earnestly. Sure, it's not like he could always do that, considering, well, a stupid djin and even stupider magic, but it's not like he needs to. It's- well- he'll be okay, probably. Maybe. Kinda.

Zane's eyes blink on and off again, blue fading in and out. "I... I suppose that I was not quite aware of that."

Okay, they've screwed up way too many times, but this... this is pretty bad. Dang it, how long does it take for them to throw self-preservation instincts at their friend before he freaking- picks them up or something?

"However, will it not hurt those who have experienced the same unfortunate events?"

Dude, not the best question to ask someone wondering the exact same thing-

"It's been... uh, nice, kind of, talking to you. So- I don't think so, and I'm pretty sure someone would say so if it did. Besides, don't we talk about our adventures all the time? It'd probably be better if we... uh, well- heh heh, nothing."

"If we talked about the less than positive elements of them? Perhaps, but I still-"

Maybe it's the fact Zane has always tried to be there for him, or maybe he's too sleep deprived to care anymore, but this is a way too familiar situation and-

Well, not ignoring the issue would be a start.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're family, Zane. We care about each other. And, gosh, that means that we care about you too. Memories are stupid and annoying sometimes, but we have to make good ones too, right? To block out the bad ones a bit, I guess? Kinda, at least."

They both look away from the stars now, grappling for something else to say.

In the end, they leave it be with a hug and a fondly exasperated warning about sleeping, if you happen to need it.

After all, they're family. They don't have to be perfect, or tell each other everything - even if it does take them a long time to realize that, and an even longer time remembering it.

---

The next time Jay startles awake from a nightmare, the sky is still empty - painfully so, like an ache that simmers beneath the surface even when it's not able to be seen.

The hue, though, is a little lighter.

Just a little - the all-encompassing darkness of it is now a navy sort of blue, his star shining a little bit brighter.

It's still not sunrise, not even close - but he'll take it. AN: the ‘sky’ mentioned at the start and end is a stupid metaphor that i somehow ended up liking too much to trash, it’s ‘empty’ because he hasn’t told anyone about the timeline, and Nya’s not included because they never had a chance to tell each other everything significant or even talked about it or processed it on screen. so yeah! if you read this,,, not great thing, can i send you a hug or good vibes or smth? tyy🥺

[desertno3]

everything comes back to you (sean wallace x fem!reader)

Sean Wallace is the love of your life and had been ever since you were both sixteen. This is why, in the aftermath of his father’s murder, you do everything you can to make sure no one lays a hand him.

5.4k words.

A/N: To think this all came from me watching this scene of Joe from Volume (2012) and thought… I need to write about bb Sean. There’s also this post which is mostly what was in my head when I wrote this. Also, I was going to say Sean being soft around the people he loves is my own personal headcanon but like… it is actual canon, lmao. It’s so easy to forget because the man is cold most of the time. Anyway, I clearly have too many thoughts about this character. Enjoy. (also formatting on tumblr is shit so if you want to read this with the formatting I intended, head over here to AO3)

prologue.

“What the hell are you up to?” Sean demands as he watches you bustle around your shared bedroom, effectively turning it upside down as you stuff your belongings into a travel bag.

“Business,” You say, hardly pausing to look at him.

“Business?” He scoffs like he doesn’t believe you. You don’t blame him. Finn died mere days ago and every day since then you’d been acting strange. Between consoling Sean and helping the Wallace family with the funeral arrangements, you’d been answering calls at random hours of the day and going off to meetings even though nearly all business operations under the Wallace Corporation had been halted. Sean had been too caught up in everything to question it but now that you’d just told him that you were flying off to god knows where for alleged business, he was suspicious.

“You know something, don’t you?”

You don’t reply.

“Tell me.”

When you remain silent, you see his jaw clench in anger but that’s not what makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. What gets to you is the hurt you can see in his eyes, hurt that his fiancé of all people is keeping things from him. You know it’s unfair to be doing this to him right now but you had no choice.

You walk up to him, taking his face in your hands.

“You just have to trust me on this, Sean,” You say softly. “Please.”

“I can’t trust anyone right now, y/n.” He says it like a plea. He needs you to be the one person he can trust one hundred percent, wants to be able to put you apart from the rest of the world who seemingly had it out for his family right now. He can’t do that when you’re acting like this.

The statement doesn’t hurt you in the slightest. You understand where he’s coming from, understand why he can’t even trust you, but still, you wish he did.

“You can always trust me,” You tell him but you know it won’t be enough. That’s confirmed when his gaze goes steely and he pries your hands from his cheeks.

“If you step out that door, don’t bother coming home.”

You step back like you’d been burned by the ultimatum. “Sean, don’t-”

He shakes his head.

“Whatever you’re doing, I hope it’s worth it.”

_________________________________________________

one.

“It’s just so annoying, you know?” You huff, falling back onto Sean’s bed and pressing the heels of your palms into your eyelids. You’re sixteen and in the throes of teen angst, irritated by the confines of your parents’ demands regarding what you currently could and couldn’t do at that age.

��Yeah, I know,” Sean replies in solidarity from where he stands near the window.

You let out a sigh, the anger that was bubbling in your chest starting to dissipate now that you’d finished venting about it.

You’re so lost in your own thoughts that you don’t realise Sean has moved from his spot across the room to the bed beside you. The mattress dips a little as he sits and slowly lies back so he’s parallel to you.

You move your hands away from your eyes and your heart jolts when you crane your neck to look at him and realise how close he is.

“Thanks for listening to my ranting,” You murmur, starting to feel guilty that you’d come over to hang out only for it to end up being just him listening to your tirade.

He lets out a small chuckle. “Anytime.”

You smile gratefully, your heart rate accelerating as you continue to stare into his eyes. God, you like him so much. You have for a while now. As he inches closer, and you don’t know whether it’s deliberate on his part or not, you wonder what it would be like if you just kissed him right there.

“Y/n…” He says hesitantly, his gaze flicking down to your lips for a fraction of a second. “Can I-”

“Ooooh, Sean and y/n,” Billy sing-songs obnoxiously from the doorway - the doorway that both you and Sean had forgotten was wide open.

Sean leaps up from the bed and growls at his brother, who continues to tease him unfazed.

“Fuck off, Billy!”

He slams the door shut and everything descends into silence once more. You sit up and watch as Sean remains at the door, his shoulders tense. You get up and make your way over to him, feeling bolder than you ever have in your life.

“Sean,” You say softly, grabbing his attention.

He turns to you, the look in his eyes hesitant, and you use that opportunity to press your lips to his. You pull away just as quickly, gauging his reaction, but then he pulls you towards him again and this time the kiss is deeper, needier. Your hands steady yourself against his chest as his own move up to cup your jaw.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, sporting matching shy smiles as you look at each other.

“I really like you, y/n,” Sean confesses and your heart feels like it could burst.

“I really like you, too, Sean.”

~

When you and Sean get accepted into different universities, it worries you more than you let on. It would be the furthest away you’d ever lived from him and you were worried about what that meant for you both. You’d spent your last years of high school falling deeper and deeper in love with him and you weren’t ready to let him go. Not now, not ever.

“Hey,” He murmurs, noticing you’d spaced out again. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug it off but he’s not buying it. He shifts on the couch so that he’s sitting facing you and takes your hands in his.

"Talk to me.”

You end up telling him everything. How you don’t like that you’re not going to be able to see him as often as you do now, how you’re worried that the distance might put a strain on the relationship, how you really, really don’t like the idea of breaking up with him.

You half expect him to brush it off or to tell you that you’ve got nothing to worry about but he doesn’t.

“I don’t like it either,” He admits. “It’s going to be awful being so far away from you but it’s only a couple of years, yeah? We can do that. And then I’ll start working for my dad and you’ll start working for some cool startup and we can move into a flat in London. You and me.”

While your boyfriend’s vision of your future together warms your heart, you’re still hung up on the ‘couple of years’ you were going to be a good distance from each other.

“Babe,” He says, bringing your attention back to him. “We’re going to be okay.”

You nod, finally relenting and agreeing with him. There was no point in letting yourself get eaten alive with worry, not when he clearly loved you just as much as you loved him. It was going to be okay.

“I love you,” You tell him and he smiles, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I love you too.”

~

Sean’s vision of the future wasn’t too far off. You manage to secure a flat just before you both graduate and by the end of the summer, you’d moved in. Sean starts working immediately alongside Alex at the Wallace Corporation and you spend about eight months working for a new tech startup on the other side of London before Finn Wallace offers you a job. It goes over with Sean just as well as you expected it would - which was not well at all.

“Are you really going to throw away everything you’ve worked hard for? To be my dad’s fucking assistant?”

You sigh in exasperation. “I’m not throwing away anything, Sean! Do you think I’m that stupid? I’m going to use more of what I learned at uni as Finn’s assistant than I am now at that fucking sad excuse for startup and you know it!”

Sean knows you’re miserable where you currently work so you don’t know why he’s so against this.

“You don’t want me working with you, is that it?”

He sighs, palms pressing against his eyelids in frustration.

“No,” He says eventually. “No, it’s not that. It’s just… I don’t want my dad having a hold on the both of us. You’re supposed to be free from all the Wallace Corporation shit, out doing your own thing.”

Oh.

You step towards him and he instinctively wraps his arms around your waist. You press a light kiss to his lips, your fingers ghosting over the facial hair he had recently started sporting.

“Sorry to tell you this, Sean, but your dad’s had a hold on the both of us the moment we started dating. Maybe even before that. I’m sure if he didn’t approve of me, I would’ve been out of your life a long time ago.”

Sean grumbles at the realisation but he knows it's true.

You lovingly run your thumb over his cheek. "Nothing in London is out of Finn Wallace's reach."

You’re not a fool. You know Finn offered you this job for a very specific reason. If you were going to continue being with Sean, and at this point, everyone knew that was absolutely going to be the case, you were going to have to know how the company worked. And you weren’t against it. If Sean was to be the CEO one day, you refused to be the kind of wife who was oblivious to their husband’s dealings.

~

Gone is the youthful innocence of the lanky boy you fell in love with when you were sixteen. Sean is filled out and a lot more serious, trying to be more than what he is for his father’s sake. You suppose you're the same, too. It's not easy, being primed to eventually take over a multi-million dollar organisation (connected to an insidious underground one to boot) and Finn put just as much pressure on you as he did his son.

“It’s not my blood,” You mumble when Sean walks into the bathroom to find you soaking in the tub, the water around you a deep red. “Mostly.”

Wordlessly, he comes over and drains it before filling it back up with fresh water. You don’t move as he does so, still shaken and borderline catatonic from having just killed somebody for the first time. Sean doesn’t have to ask, he can just tell that’s what you’ve come back from. As he silently washes the blood from your skin, you look over to see his lips set in a tight line. You know he’s mad. Not at you. At his father, maybe. But there’s nothing he can do now. There’s no going back from this.

~

Everyone thinks you’re the power couple of the Wallace Corporation, steely and unfeeling, and you suppose in many ways you are but you also know that in other ways, you’re still the teenagers you were before, still completely and utterly smitten with one another.

“Hey,” Sean greets you, kissing your cheek before pulling out a chair and sitting beside you in the empty boardroom.

You look at him in surprise as he starts digging into some pre-packaged salad. “Hi. What are you doing?”

“Thought I’d have lunch with you.”

“It’s three in the afternoon.”

“The meeting ran overtime.”

You give him a sympathetic look and he rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. C’mere.”

You shuffle closer to him and let him tuck you under one arm while he forked salad into his mouth with the other.

“What have you been up to, hm?”

You let out an exhale, resting your head against his shoulder. “Meetings, same as you.”

You’re interrupted when Alex pops his head in with an apologetic look on his face, knowing he was disrupting a rare moment between you and Sean. Usually, the both of you would be so busy you’d only see each other in passing at work.

“Finn’s looking for you, y/n,” He tells you before disappearing again.

You sigh, getting up but not before kissing Sean on the cheek.

“I’ll see you at home.”

“Mm, see you.” He mumbles, swallowing his mouthful of salad before his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. “Wait, give me a proper kiss.”

You smile and comply, laughing when Sean pulls you back in for another and another.

“I have to go, Sean!”

“Alright, alright,” He says, letting you go. “I’ll see you later.”

~

"What's all this?" Sean asks when he comes home one night to find you in the kitchen looking like you’re in the middle of making a more elaborate dinner than usual.

"Just something to celebrate you finishing up that contract," You say, smiling when his arms circle your waist and his lips press a kiss to your cheek. "I was also thinking now that the contract's done, you've got all the time in the world to fuck me."

You all but squeal when he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom without a second thought.

"The food, Sean!"

"The food can wait," He murmurs, dropping you onto the bed. You giggle when he moves to hover above you, his lips brushing against yours. "I've got to take care of my fiancé first."

~

It’s those memories of your relationship with Sean that flood your mind as you lean against the brick wall of a Soho back alley, the hand pressing against the wound on your side not doing much to stop the blood seeping from your body faster than you would like.

Dread had filled you the moment you heard about Finn’s death and it had less to do with what happened to him and everything to do with the man you were engaged to, the one who was set to take over the company in his father’s wake. Despite Sean being the clear successor to the business, you knew Finn’s death would still leave a power vacuum in both London’s corporate and criminal worlds. You knew people would be out for Sean, trying to off him so that they could step up and take Finn’s place. And so, since the day Finn had died, you’d done everything you could to ensure Sean wouldn’t be harmed. Even after Sean’s heartbreaking ultimatum, you’d left and had been all over the country and London trying to stop the people that needed to be stopped. This last job you’d just carried out would have been it. It would have sealed the deal and would have kept Sean safe for good. Too bad you were probably going to die because of it.

You wince as your back slides further down the wall, your legs giving out and leaving you to drop unceremoniously onto the concrete. Each inhale felt like a billion knives entering your side and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

It was worth it, you think to yourself. It’s the last thought you have before your eyelids get too heavy to keep open, Sean’s last words to you echoing back in your mind. It may have cost you your life but was worth it if it meant you’d just ensured Sean would keep his for a long while.

_________________________________________________

two.

Despite the number of people crammed into your hospital room, the only sound to be heard is the steady beeping of the machines that had been attached to you. It had been a hell of a night for all of them and one that wasn’t over yet. Jacqueline’s frantic call to Sean about seeing you get wheeled into emergency surgery had cut short the tense discussion the Wallaces and Dumanis were having around the dining table. Sean had all but sped to the hospital, everyone else trailing behind him. Despite everything that had just been revealed to him that night, it all became secondary in comparison to the fact that Jacqueline had told him you were practically dying.

Everyone but Sean looks up when Ed steps back into the room, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“That was Jevan,” Ed announces to all of them. “Things have changed.”

“What things?” Marian asks, the tone in her voice still bitter. It’s a wonder neither she nor Sean have kicked the Dumanis out of the room but it was because there was still so much to be discussed - especially now that you were back in the picture and what happened to you remained unclear.

“The investors now want to keep Sean alive.”

A silence settles over the room at Ed’s revelation. It was mere hours ago that Alex had revealed it was the investors who wanted Sean dead.

“She knew,” Sean mutters, finally speaking up. His eyes raking over your nearly-lifeless face as you lay unconscious on the hospital bed and his mind thinks back to the last conversation he had with you. Business, you had told him then. Now, he had no doubt you had something to do with the investors’ most recent decision. “She knew they wanted me dead.”

“How?” It’s Alex who asks, vocalising the same thought Sean had been turning over and over in his mind. “How did she know where to find them? Who to talk to?”

No one has an answer. The machines beep steadily, filling in the silence until Ed sighs, a realisation dawning on him.

“Finn,” He states like that alone makes the answer clear. “She would’ve known through Finn. Think about it. When she was his assistant, he made her go with him to nearly every meeting he had.”

Everyone in the room was aware of the latter, of course. It was part of your job. It had even been a point of contention between Sean and his father at one point, why you were let in on meetings that he should’ve been in on too if he was going to take over the company one day. "She’s just there to make the coffee, son," Finn had laughed but that wasn’t true in the slightest. You were the one who took down the minutes, noted down anything of importance, kept tabs on any and all of Finn’s dealings with everybody. That was your job and through it, you ended up knowing more about the business than anyone else and you didn’t even realise it. You didn’t realise just how much you knew, how much knowledge you could use as leverage, as blackmail, until Sean’s life was on the line.

After Finn died, you did wonder whether he knew what he was setting you up for when he hired you, wondered if he always knew Sean would eventually need protecting and knew that you would do it without hesitation if you had the capability to do so.

It’s Ed, here in the hospital room, who comes to the realisation that he absolutely did.

“She knows more about Finn’s dealings with the investors than all of us in this room combined,” He continues. “Because he never actually needed her to be his assistant. He needed her to be someone who would know how to talk to them. To protect the company and its successor from them if need be.”

“Successor?” Marian asks. “You mean Sean?”

Ed nods and everyone jumps as Sean suddenly throws his fist against the bedside table in anger before whirling on the older man.

“You knew about this,” He seethes. “You knew he was doing this and you just let it happen.”

“I didn’t know this was his reasoning behind it, Sean, I promise you. But it makes sense. As his son, protecting you was a priority. Through her, Finn made sure you’d be kept safe.”

"Fuck that.” Sean spits in anger. “Fuck that. She's a priority too. You hear me? She needs to be kept safe too because if she's not alive I may as well be fucking dead."

_________________________________________________

three.

“I should’ve fucking realised that’s what she was up to. I should’ve fucking known,” Sean mutters as he looks at you, still lying there unconscious. “She risked everything for me.”

“Are you surprised?” Marian asks him. It’s just the two of them in the room now.

She, for one, isn’t surprised in the slightest. Having known you most of your life, she knew you had it in you. Maybe Finn saw that too, since it was what he ended up priming you for.

Sean sighs. He’s not surprised either. What he mostly feels is anger - at his late father for putting you in that position to begin with - and shame. He’s ashamed that while you were bending over backwards to try and keep him alive, he was doing fuck all for you. He'd even broken your fucking heart in the process. He’d regretted it the second you’d left the flat but he couldn’t get into contact with you afterwards. Either you’d changed your number or you weren’t answering his calls. He’d even hired a fucking private investigator to find out where you’d gone and what you were up to but they hadn’t come back with anything solid enough that could lead him to you. It was like you’d disappeared off the face of the earth.

"She paid you off,” Sean says bluntly the moment the PI enters the hospital room. It’s not a question. After everything that had surfaced in the last twenty-four hours, it clicked into Sean’s mind the reason the private investigator couldn’t find anything on you.

"She did,” They confirm.

Sean swears under his breath. He curses that fact that you were too good at this and curses the fact that it was probably Finn that taught you how, the same way Finn taught him. He should’ve fought harder to stop you from accepting his dad’s job offer. All those years ago.

“She paid me off,” The PI says. "But that doesn’t mean I didn't do my job."

Sean is handed a folder full of notes on your movements and a flash drive full of photos they’d snapped from a distance.

"You are a very lucky man, Sean Wallace. To have someone like her in your life."

_________________________________________________

four.

To say you’re surprised when you open your eyes to a sterile hospital room is an understatement. You were so sure you had no chance of getting out of that alley alive. Still groggy, you briefly wonder if it was the investors who managed to get you here in time - the strange puppet masters that they were - but your train of thought is halted when you realise Sean’s sister is in the room with you, sitting beside your hospital bed.

“About time you woke up,” Jacqueline says softly, a kind smile on her face. “How’re you feeling?”

Her question brings your attention to the relentless ache you feel all over your body.

“Like shit.”

She hums. “Well, you’re lucky you aren’t dead. You gave us all a scare getting wheeled in here the way you did.”

You shift a little, trying to get yourself in a position that would ease the pain somewhat. “How’s Sean?”

Jacqueline has to stop herself from rolling her eyes because of course that’s what’s on your mind right now. You coming back from the verge of death asking about Sean ran in a similar vein to the way Sean had been adamant about not leaving the hospital since you’d been admitted. Like two peas in a pod, she thinks. Always have been.

“He’s just out in the hall, actually,” She informs you. “On the phone to mum. He’s not going to be pleased he wasn’t here when you woke up.”

“But he’s okay?” You ask her.

“He’s okay.”

You let out the breath you didn’t realise you were holding, your head sinking further into the pillow.

“Good,” You say, shutting your eyes in relief. “That’s good.”

Only a few seconds pass before you hear the door open and shut and a heart-achingly familiar voice break the silence.

“How is she?”

Again, Jacqueline has to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Her brother would always ask that same question every time he returned to the room, no matter if he was gone for an hour or for just a couple of minutes. At least this time, she was glad to give him an answer other than ‘she’s the same as she was when you left’.

“She’s awake.”

Your eyelids flutter open and your heart jumps when your gaze lands on Sean.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” Jacqueline smiles when she looks between her brother and yourself. She comes over and rests her hand on yours. “I’m really glad you’re alive, y/n.”

You give her a grateful smile and watch her leave before your eyes flicker back to the man standing at the door. He looks healthy, you note to yourself. Exhausted, but healthy.

“Sean,” You whisper, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” He says softly, approaching your bedside. You slowly sit up and tears start to pool in your eyes at the sight of him here, so close to you. Safe and alive. He notices and reaches out to wipe away the stray tears that had rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” He murmurs and you have to hold back a sob.

"I did it for you, Sean," You can barely get the sentence out, your voice catching as you start to get choked up by emotion. "Everything I did-"

"I know," He says, cupping your face tenderly. His eyes are glassy too. "I know."

“I couldn’t let them hurt you. I couldn’t-”

You stop as your tears start to flow uncontrollably. You’d kept so much of your emotions at bay as you dealt with everything and now that it was all done, they were spilling over in waves. He gently pulls you into his embrace as you cry, mindful of your injuries. One hand strokes your hair comfortingly as you cling to him, soaking the front of his shirt with your tears. You keep muttering apologies into his chest and he has to tell you to stop because you have nothing to be sorry for. He should be the one apologising, he thinks. No matter what he does for you for the rest of his life nothing would come close enough in magnitude to what you’d just done for him.

You sniffle as your sobs finally start to subside but you don’t let go of him just yet.

“I want to come home, Sean,” You say quietly, your cheek still pressed against his chest.

“You are home,” He assures you, his arms affectionately squeezing you ever so slightly. "You're here with me. You're already home."

_________________________________________________

epilogue.

Sean barely leaves your side while you recover - not for business, not for anything.

“The company needs you, Sean.”

He shakes his head. “Alex has it covered. You need me.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Believe me, I know. But still. In sickness and in health, right?”

You snort. “We’re not married yet.”

His arms wrap around your waist.

“But we will be,” He murmurs. “I would’ve married you a long time ago if I had it my way.”

“My mother would’ve murdered you.”

Sean chuckles, all too aware of it.

It was about a year and a half into your university lives that Sean decided he genuinely wanted to marry you and, of course, he had run it by your mother.

“I’ll give you my blessing, Sean,” She had told him. “But only if you promise me you’ll give it a few years until you propose.”

“Just trust me on this, okay?” She said after Sean had frowned and asked her why. “I know you love her and I know she loves you but there’s no need to rush.”

Sean had agreed reluctantly but now, years later, he understands where she was coming from. At the time, he had naively been sure there was nothing the two of you couldn’t handle. You’d both handled being at different universities so well, after all. Now, he cringes at the fact that that was his metric but he figures he couldn’t blame himself. At that age, he definitely never anticipated having to deal with all the shit life had thrown at you both in the last few months alone. He’s somewhat grateful your mum told him to wait because now, after everything, he’s more sure than he ever was about the fact that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

~

You’re finally back home, in your own bed, lying on your back because it’s the only comfortable way you can lay down with all your stitches and injuries yet to fully heal. You turn your head to look at Sean and you smile. He’s on his back as well, the both of you craning your necks awkwardly to look at each other.

“What?” He asks.

“This is very familiar.”

He snorts, knowing exactly what you’re referring to. He props himself up on his elbow and looks down at you.

“At least this time I’m not scared to do this.”

Your eyelids flutter close as he leans down to press his lips to yours. You reciprocate, leaning up to deepen the kiss before pain shoots up your side, making you hiss.

“Sorry,” He murmurs, pulling away.

“It’s fine, just the stitches.”

His thumb grazes over your cheek. “Rest.”

He smiles at the way you huff. You never did like staying still.

~

You let out a content sigh, sinking back in your office chair. It had felt like a lifetime since you’d been in here and finally being back felt like you were putting in the final piece in the puzzle. It was the last thing you needed to feel like everything was starting to go back to normal.

A knock on the door grabs your attention, Sean popping in to check on you. “You ready?”

You nod, gingerly getting up and following him to the boardroom for the family meeting.

~

“So you know Alex and I have been talking,” Sean says to you once everyone had filed in and taken their seats. “About what will be best for the business going forward.”

You nod.

“Things have settled down and we’ve managed to broker temporary agreements with everyone to keep them in line. However, we need to guarantee they won’t act out in the future. So we need someone heading the company who they will listen to, someone who they trust. Alex wants to continue doing the finances and I’m better off sticking to making the buildings so… we were wondering if you would be the CEO.”

Your expression goes slack in shock. “What?”

“We’ve run it by Ed and mum and they agree, too. You’re our best bet.”

You look between everyone in the room, bewildered. “Why?”

“Because you know more about dealing with the investors and shareholders than any of us,” Alex says. “You saw first-hand how Finn did his business with them, something me and Sean rarely did. And they not only know you personally but they trust you, too.”

“Y/n,” Ed pipes up. “Whether he did it deliberately or not, Finn taught you everything he knew about the most important part of running this corporation. Alex knows finance and sales, Sean knows property and asset management but you? He specifically taught you how to bargain. And bargaining and making deals is part of what keeps the Wallace Corporation on top.”

“All our shareholders, the investors, they’ll be okay with this?” You ask.

Ed gives you a look, “You tell us.”

The weight of the responsibility hits you in full force but you’re surprised when you don’t feel scared. You feel sure. They were all right, you’d been doing this already.

You nod. “They will be.”

And it’s not a threat so much as it’s just pure confidence on your part. You knew their strengths, their weaknesses, you knew you would be able to keep them in line with your words, either finding mutual ground or using certain things as leverage to get what the company needed. You could bargain with them the same way you’d bargained for Sean’s life. You could do this.

You meet Sean’s eyes across the boardroom table and he smiles at you, pride blooming in his chest at the thought of his girl, the one he had fallen head-over-heels for at sixteen, being the CEO of his dad’s company. You smile in return. God, you loved him. Your entire world, your whole heart, belonged to him. And his to you. It always had been, and it always would be.

_________________________________________________

End notes: The first kiss setting in one. I took straight from Volume, lol, and then two. is set after that meeting scene at the end of Episode 7 of Gangs but I’ve taken some liberties with that meeting and diverged from canon right before Ed tells them Finn never wanted Sean near the business because Sean’s reaction to that hurts my heart. So that’s not a thing in my fic world. Anyway! Too many thoughts about this show. Let me know if you enjoyed this fic!

[leahseclipse]

Daily surprises

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Everyday, Spencer finds a new book in his bag, as he begins to look forward to it when the event has been occurring for a while.

Requested by @writing-in-april​

A/N: I really liked writing this request!!! it really was cute asF!! Thanks for proposing that April, the fic u wrote for me last time was amazing (as ALWAYS), so I hope that you’ll like this one.

And uhh sorry about the books parts, I don’t know any of the books- I literally googled the summaries-

Word count: 3.8k

Books have always been a passion of mine; I have always been fascinated by how words can make the reader feel, how each reader can have a different opinion about them, different feelings, every reader is different when it comes to the fact of the opinion they have about the work.

They had always been a sort of shelter to me. I usually had the habit (and still have it) to comfort myself in them, they’d be able to express feelings like no one could, allow me to learn about various things, subject, build an opinion on a subject I had never thought of having an opinion, debate or even mention before.

I had been collecting more and more of them through the years, to the point of having an apartment that could be mistaken as a sort of tiny library. 

My books are literally everywhere, in my shelves, on my couch, on the low table, under and on chairs, even at my desk, and in my bag.

I always carry around one or two in my bag (of course, if they both don’t contain a lot of pages to the point of weighing a ton when combined together), in case I happen to have free time (which happened to become rare when I had begun working at the FBI), and have nothing else to do but read. 

It also happened to be a passion I've been sharing with another person, more known as y/n.

She had first mentioned that she didn't happen to read a lot, but eventually appreciated reading, which I was more than happy to hear, considering all the books I knew and how much it meant to me.

Clearly, she didn't expect me to know a whole library in my brain when she happened to ask if I could recommend a few; but she always liked to hear me rambling about them. 

She had eventually begun taking a liking to reading again; often asking me about books I've read, talking about her opinion on the book she had read, which would often be followed by an endless rambling from me, being much longer than what she had previously explained, or even expected when I had begun sharing my opinion as well.

It was nice to have someone else to talk about books with, without feeling I could possibly be disturbing them. 

Most of my colleagues would either stay there until I'd be done, they knew how much I appreciated talking about these to them; even if the majority of the team wasn't much interested, they were just being polite and respectful by staying.

Now that I talk about it, I probably should have apologized for all of the times I had rambled for a large amount of time when talking about the four books I've read in a day.

They're pretty much the main subjects I talk the most about, if, of course, I exclude Star Trek, Doctor Who, and the many subjects I throw facts about all day long from the long list that includes all of the things I'm interested in;

...which would take quite a while to detail its entirety, since I probably would take the time to explain each of them as detailed as possible, without letting any word behind, as my brain would constantly send me as much information as it contains...which again, means, a lot.

But, even if my passion about them is often difficult to keep for myself without having the need to ramble an essay worth long about them, I try not to begin to talk about it, or mention it, except if someone else does. 

That became rare…as I often end up talking more than intended each time.

Reading can sometimes lead me to fall asleep quite later than I planned before even taking the book itself. 

Having the ability to read fast has often led to many nights with little sleep, considering how many books I can read in a short amount of time.

The aftermath of it isn't pleasant, as it results in more fatigue on top of the one I already have because of how late I'd stay up when working at the bureau.

The feeling I had this morning when I had woken up happened to be one of the side effects of a long and endless reading session I had done the previous night.

Little did I find out after thinking about it for a bit that I'd probably be regretting it at the end of the day, if not earlier.

Even if my body was telling me to stay in my bed considering how tired I was, work couldn't allow me to do it, unfortunately.

It only took a quarter of an hour in order for me to get ready, as I already had been crossing the door to leave my apartment without having the time to think about doing it.

The rest of the morning wasn't as busy as it usually would be; only paperwork for the previous days, nothing too complicated. 

But because of the short night I had, the coffee trips have been quite numerous after a while. 

A short conversation had occurred later in the day between y/n and me when she had gone to peek over my desk, curious to why I had been going in and out of consciousness; and leaving a lot to take refills. 

I didn't mind her asking at all, on the contrary, I had been waiting for an opportunity to talk with her; but as I didn't want to disturb her, I just kept glancing discreetly at her from time to time, hoping something to talk about would awaken a future conversation.

After a while, I noticed that she had left the room, just as I had the thought of something situated in my bag.

I had soon taken it in search of what I've been looking for, as I suddenly happened to be quite surprised as I found a book that I didn't remember putting the night before, any other day, or even this morning before leaving my apartment for work at all.

‘The Collector, John Fowles’

It was a surprisingly good choice, and the person who had put it there either had good taste or personally knew my preferences; or even both. 

Who knows. 

Even I would be explaining it to myself, and not to anyone; I’d prefer not to engage myself in that; as it could last up to an hour considering the length, and all that is to explain in order to understand the moral, and the motives of whatever is in the character’s mind in the book; so...a lot. 

“Withdrawn, uneducated and unloved, Frederick collects butterflies and takes photographs. He is obsessed with a beautiful stranger, the art student Miranda. When he wins the pools, he buys a remote Sussex house and calmly abducts Miranda, believing she will grow to love him in time. Alone and desperate, Miranda must struggle to overcome her own prejudices and contempt if she is to understand her captor, and so gain her freedom.” 

The resume of the book had simply begun automatically playing itself before I could even lay my eyes on the back cover; as I had read this book more times than my two hands could ever count, and you know; because of the eidetic memory thing, even if I had read it only once, I would have remembered it anyway.

I remember reading it for the umpteenth time around last week, precisely on a saturday, at 11PM. As long as I can remember, I apparently had nothing else to do but read, and absolutely not any other book to pull out of the shelf, except that one.

Even if I had strictly- no idea -of who could have truly placed it there, except y/n-, I still had appreciated having this work as a possible distraction, or a way to pass the time if I eventually happened to have no idea of what I could do next, in case I didn’t have any work left to do. 

As I raised my eyes to the desk in front of me, I happened to meet with y/n’s eyes just when she had  happened to stare at me as well. 

“What’s that book genius?”

“Oh, that? It’s the collector, from John Fowles. I like this one, but- is that you who put it there?”

“Yeah...why?”

“I uh- no particular reason! I just uh...wonder why it’s there…?”

“Well, read it, and you’ll see.” She said, as she stood to go god knows where.

“Read it? But I’ve already read-” I hurried out, but she had already gone out of the room, shooting me a smile before disappearing in the corner of the door. I stood there for a good minute, as I decided to open the book and read a bit of it as she previously told me to before leaving without even giving me an answer. She always liked to be mysterious, that’s kinda the reason I fell in love with her for. 

It really took a while so I would get a number.

She had slid it in one of my file just when she had left the building to go home, I swore I didn’t even have any breath when I had attempted at catching her before she has gone to her car, and if I hadn’t decided to go, one minute later, she would have been on the road, and I doubt that calling people on the road would have been safe and clever for me to do it.

It might have been a bit “mean” to do that as some would say, but we always had the habit of doing that, way before we started dating. We’d always let the other try to guess what the other meant, what he wanted to say, it all was a game, a sequel to the story that would occur later, all of these discussions, secrets, have been a preparation, and kept for what happened right now. 

It all was thanks to her, because if she wouldn’t have given it, I doubt that I would have gathered the courage too soon. Probably in 10 years or so, if not.

As I still was in my lecture, a bright blue paper with an inscription written in black ink had brought my attention, which led me to read it. 

“I know you’re surprised, yes, it’s in a book, and yes I could have told it to you in person, but I find it better in a note, you can keep it and carry wherever you want. It's also better as a note, and, in a book, because you had always liked books, which became the passion that has made us grow closer. This book was the first one that started a conversation between us, I don’t remember the day, but you probably do. This note might be confusing, but I wanted to do that, because at least, you have a reason to finish the book, because you might have another surprise soon. -yours truly, y/n”

The note had even ended with a heart; she’d always write one at the end of her texts, even a small word sometimes, it probably was an habit of hers, I don’t really know, we never mentioned it once, as I didn’t mind at all, I really liked the attention. 

Well, I pretty much like everything she does, whether she’s talking to me, talking to someone else, or doing whatever thing. I always like to see her around; I tend to get more relaxed when she’s with me; she always talks with me, and tries to know about what I do, even if I often noticed she probably didn’t understand a single word of whatever I rambled about. 

Among all of the subject she was at ease with, books happened to be one of them, she’d always participate actively, as most of the subjects included in the books would often inspirate her, push her to talk more than she usually would with other subject, or even in general, I’d help her find her words, participate in the conversation by argumenting, agreeing with her opinion, sharing my opinion so that we could compare them and argument once more about the differences, I’d also initiate the conversation by switching to another book when we’d have nothing else to talk about the book, or if one of the details in the book would make me think of another one.

Our discussions would often last hours, we wouldn’t even realize the amount of hours we’ve spent talking until one of us would think to look at the time.

Even if I liked every single moment we’d spend together, if I had to choose one (a temporary, as I always change my mind on which moment I prefer as I again like every single one), It’d be our numerous discussions about books, I had and would never grow tired of it.

As much as I like to hear her talking, I often let myself get distracted by her, to the point of having to be “woken up” from my thoughts by her when I happened to not pay attention. 

Because in these moments, all that matters is that I get to hear her voice, her smile as she passionately talks about what she likes, she way she always talks while moving her hands around, when she looks at me while I talk, when she touches my hand with the tip of her fingers to take the book situated in my hands.

She made me get more and more excited about the moments when I’d reach for a book in my bag, or somewhere in the drawer of my desk.

Especially when she had begun picking my interest by telling me she might propose another book the next day...or so? 

I don’t think I’ve been more excited about reading a book again before now.

Who would have thought someone would have such an effect on me on a subject I admire before y/n arrived in my life? I’ve never been so passionate about something other than books before her. 

*

My waiting (that had seemed like an eternity) had only lasted till the next day, not long after my arrival at the bureau. 

I hadn’t expected it, but the book had happened to be situated close to my keyboard, which after thinking, was obvious, if I’d take account of the numerous trips we both had done throughout the morning due to various reasons concerning either paperwork or matters of previous cases.

I had taken a seat on the desk, quite empty for a while due to, again, the trips, as I had glanced at the surroundings, only to see a few members of the team, busy doing whatever task that was in front of them. 

‘Great Expectations, Charles Dickens’

Again; fairly surprising, but quite a good surprise to discover, as I hadn’t seen it for a while before today.

The edition of the book present on my desk was one of the original versions of it, The cover had a black color, along with the title and the author written in large letters under the title of the book, both just on top of an illustration representing a woman holding a bouquet of various types of flowers, behind it, the outfit she wore was visible; a white embroidery, with a grey-ish and black necklace on top of it, which was situated around her neck. The illustration was displayed in the shape of a large square, almost taking the rest of the bottom of the cover, as a space was present after the closure of the white border around the illustration. 

My eyes wandered around the cover, as I switched sides, ending up on the back of it.

“Considered by many to be Dickens’s finest novel, Great Expectations traces the growth of the book’s narrator, the orphan Philip Pirrip (Pip), from a boy of shallow dreams to a man with depth of character. From its famous dramatic opening on the bleak Kentish marshes, the story abounds, with some of Dickens’s most memorable characters; Among them are-” 

I wasn’t able to finish the rest of the summary, as a familiar scent had caught my attention, two arms embraced my shoulders. 

“You didn’t say hi today. I’m gonna begin to think you don’t love me anymore.” She had said, in an obvious playful tone that had taken some time for me to understand as it was, only a joke.

“Sorry, I’m married to someone, my work.” I had said, before the feel of her lips on my left cheek interrupted me; as, before she could go, I turned my face, stealing a kiss from her.

“Is that your apology?” She asked. 

“If you see it that way, yeah.”

“Then I accept your apologies;”

“I’m glad, I couldn’t bear to see you in such a state that would make you sad, all because of me.” I talked in a dramatic tone, which seemed as if I was doing a play, but she had laughed at it, so, turns out that my ‘play’ had been worth it after all. 

“Have you opened it yet?”

“No, I only read the summary. Why, is there something there again?”

“See by yourself.” She said, gesturing her hand in the direction of the book, as I opened it per request. 

When my eyes fell on the first page, I had expected to see the page on which the title and the author are written in black, but instead of it, a picture that had apparently been printed in a matte paper was taped on the page.

The picture had contained a picture of me, reading a book while I was sitting on the floor, against the wall, of what seemed to be my apartment, the book I was holding seemed to be the same ones I was holding in my hands.

“When did you take that? I never saw you taking your phone when we were together.”

“That’s because you never pay attention to your surroundings when you read. A fire could happen in the apartment and you wouldn’t even notice it until you’d smell the smoke.”

“No, you’re lying, I do pay attention…sometimes.” 

“See? You admitted it yourself. The tone of your voice when you reached the end of the sentence even said it for you.”

“Yeah but, did I...do something wrong or…?”

“No, nothing wrong. On the contrary, your focus was so strong that I was able to take the picture. So, that’s a good thing, do that more.”

“Now that you told me that, I’m gonna pay more attention, you might attempt to kill me behind my back.”

“Yeah, I might kill you if you keep saying that. I’ll kill you with a bad book, I’d be a shame to kill you with a good book, I might damage it.”

“You care more about a book instead of possibly committing a murder on the one and only love of your life?”

“My one and only love is tea, you know it.” She said, as I faked being offended. “Come on, I’m kidding. But, if you keep insinuating that, I’ll care more about the book. So, if you don’t want me to kill my one and only love, behave on your best.”  

“Okay, behave on my best.” I said, tracing the outline of the picture with my index. “Even if the thought of seeing myself in that picture is kinda weird, I’ll keep it. Thanks for it, I’ll read it, well, if...I get to finish the work on my desk.” I said, as we both glanced at the paperwork on the desk.

“Yeah...I, uh. Yeah. I don’t want to...sadden you even more, but you should check your mails, there...might be more.” She said, as she tapped my shoulder before leaving, the smile on my face dropping as I came to the realization. 

“I guess the reading session is getting postponed then.” 

*

The week had really been full of a lot of surprises (if I don’t count the case we had, of course), she had pulled out books I haven’t read for years; books that I had wanted to read, but never got the time for; or even books I’ve never read, but she had surprisingly matched my taste well, as I ended up liking them more than I thought I would before even starting the book. 

To my surprise, we had gotten to have rest for once after the busy week that cancelled all of our plans in a snap. 

I haven’t even realized that it already was October 31st today, the work had completely gone over everything else that made up my thoughts, to the point that I haven’t thought of the book y/n had chosen today.

She’d always put it either on the top of my desk where I could see it, or in my bag, but after a minute or so of searching, I didn’t see it.

The only book that I could see was in my bag, a copy of ‘The Narrative of John Smith by Arthur Conan Doyle’,  I had always left it there, it was one of my favorite books, I had never gotten anywhere without it.

‘Maybe she forgot about it today. It happens.’

We had a small party like we usually do (when a case doesn’t interrupt us, of course), and various small events had been organized.

As I had been looking around, my attention had been snatched away by a hand slightly tapping my right shoulder, as I turned around to see y/n.

“Missed me?” 

“Yeah, I did.” I said, as I brought her closer, and brought my lips to hers, as we exchanged a brief kiss. “Where have you been?”

“I was with Penelope, just for a bit, because if you didn’t see it, she wasn’t around either.”

“Wasn’t she? Oh, apparently not.” I said, as I saw her coming in, walking in the direction of Emily who had called her.

“What were you thinking about?”

“You, and books.”

“Oh, talking about books, did you notice something?”

“Something? Uh, no. I haven’t seen one, except the book I always carry.”

“And what is it?”

“The Narrative of John Smith, why?”

“Well, you just noticed something. The book you just saw is the one you were looking for.”

“But, I had it yesterday, and all of the days before. I-I don’t get it.”

"In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s October 31st today; the date the book was published by the edition you own, it even was the first book I laid my eyes on when we met.” She pointed out.

“...you just reduced my IQ to 60 in a minute.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yeah, I knew it was our anniversary, but never had I thought that this book was involved.”

“Now you did, and you better remember it, and never forget to carry it.”

“I would never.” I said, as I gently put my hand on her cheek, as she suddenly raised herself on the tip of her toes, kissing me before I even got the time to think of it. 

“Happy anniversary Spence.”

“Happy anniversary y/n.”

*

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Forever

Duo Shot: Stendhal Syndrome Part 2: Daddy

Intro: Steve feels the aftermath of his reaction to Katie’s behaviour. Rogers by name, Stark by nature.

Uh Oh indeed.

Warnings: Bad language. NSFW (SMUT!) No under 18s.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was a one shot. I got carried away and wrote 24 pages. So now you have a duo shot thanks to the original photo sending me to a dirty place.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 1

Katie stood in the quiet of the lounge, watching the door that Steve had walked through, her mouth dropping open. He had never turned her down like that before. She prized herself on normally being able to get what she wanted when she wanted it out of Steve, either by using her words or other means. Of course, Steve always put her in her place when she needed it, which she took on the chin, and there were certain things she would never sway him on but she respected that and heeded it when needed.

But pulling her up like that over some stupid blonde bimbo who couldn’t keep her hands to herself? Really? Why was he defending her? Was…was there…

She shook her head, brushing away the thought as quickly as it came.  Steve wouldn’t do that to her, half the time he was fucking oblivious to the way other women looked at him anyway. No, this was just him being his old-fashioned, chivalrous self…

Wasn’t it?

“Fucks sake Katie…” she grumbled to herself, wiping her eyes before she left the lounge. She checked her face in the mirror in the hall and, happy that her make-up was ok she headed back into the kitchen. Decided she wanted something stronger than beer she walked into the utility room where Steve had built her a Gin shelf to house her various bottles and glasses. Selecting the bottle of Aviation she poured a heavy measure before stalking back into the kitchen. She pushed the glass under the ice dispenser before she grabbed a bottle of tonic and topped up her drink. Taking a long drink she leaned against the counter looking out at the garden. The tables were pretty much empty of party food now, the kids and adults having inhaled it through the afternoon. Pepper and Jennifer were busy sweeping empty plates into large bin liners and Katie knew she should probably go and help…

“Mom?” Emmy drew her from her thoughts “You ok?”

“Yeah, was taking a moment.” she nodded “What time is it?”

“Almost 4:30…”

“Ok, can you tell your dad we’re gonna do the cake now then.” she smiled, setting her gin down.

“Sure.” Em nodded, before she cocker her head slightly “You sure you’re ok? Dad came out before in a foul mood. Nearly took Sam’s head off when he made a joke about that being a definite ‘quicky’” she framed the last words with her fingers and Katie snorted.

“We just had a disagreement, don’t worry about it.” Katie shook her head “It’ll work out it always does.”

Emmy nodded and left her mother to it. She headed back out into the garden and made her way over to her father who currently had two kids hanging off his arms as he playfully swung them through the air.

“Dad.” she said, stopping a little way away. He stood still and turned to face her.

“You ok Em?”

“Yeah, Mom’s gonna do the cake now.”

“Ok.”

“And I don’t know what you said to her but she’s really upset.” Em levelled him with a look and before he could reply she turned and headed back towards Brooke who was stood next to her mother and Bucky.

Steve let out a sigh and untangled himself from the kids before he started to move around, roping the other parents in to helping him shepherd them over to the tables by the side. He hadn’t meant to upset her but her attitude was ridiculous. At the promise of cake the kids were fairly obedient so it seemed, and it wasn’t long before Katie came out of the kitchen, followed by Jamie and Morgan, the candles lit on Rori’s cake. Their little girl squealed in excitement and Steve chuckled and lifted her up as Katie set the cake down on the table and the chorus of Happy Birthday Started.

“Make a wish princess…” He said, kissing her cheek as he held her over the cake so she could blow the 5 candles out. She scrunched her eyes closed and then opened them.

“Ok, wish done!” she beamed and Steve laughed, setting her down. He turned to his wife but she had already moved away from him slightly to begin carving the large pink and purple unicorn cake into pieces for everyone.

“What is that?” Bucky asked, looking at the piece she had given him.

“Cake.” she narrowed her eyes.

“I need more than that.”

Katie looked at him, but before she had time to reply Jennifer had seized the piece of cake and shoved it straight into Bucky’s face. There was a slight pause before Sam let out a bellow of laughter and Katie’s hand flew to her mouth as started to laugh at the look on Bucky’s face.

“Oh you didn’t…” he said, before he reached out and gripped Jennifer around the waist and rubbed his cake covered face against hers. She shrieked, wriggling in his arms and eventually her shrieks turned into giggles as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“KISSY!” Harry yelled from his spot in Emmy’s arms and Bucky turned his head to look at him, pink and purple icing and butter cream spread through his short stubble.

“You want one pal?”

“Don’t you dare!” Katie pointed at Bucky who began to laugh as Steve handed him a pile of napkins, chuckling. He slid his arm round Katie’s waist and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“Love you.” he said softly.

She turned to look at him, shot him an icy glare and then turned away, moving out of his reach to begin handing the various pieces of cake to the kids as they all ran around her.

“Ok what did you do?” Bucky looked at him as he rubbed at his face with a Princess themed Napkin.

“Told her I thought her attitude was shitty.” Steve sighed “In a roundabout way anyway.”

Jennifer looked at him, as Bucky handed her a napkin so she could wipe the cake from her face “Her attitude?”

“Yeah, towards Dani.”

Jennifer shook her head “Steve, the woman was practically climbing you like a tree.”

“No she wasn’t…”

“God you can be a real idiot at times.” Jennifer shook her head. Giving Bucky another peck she looked at Steve again, before she made a tutting noise and left.

“Nice one Punk…” Bucky moaned as his girlfriend walked off.

“Don’t start Bucky.” Steve said, shaking his head.

“What did you actually say to her?” Sam looked at him.

With a sigh Steve told them exactly what had gone down in the living room, well, almost everything, he skipped the part about the camero and Katie admitting she was wearing no underwear…as he came to that bit he trailed off blushing slightly and scratched at his neck.

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look “Man, we thought you’d go in there, have angry sex and then that would be it.” “I think she thought that too.” Steve said, his cheeks now even hotter. “I told her no..”

“Wait, wait, let me get this straight?” Sam looked at Steve “You went in there, had a row with your wife because she was pissed off some woman was hanging off of you, and then when she offered you make up sex you said no?”

Steve groaned “That’s not…”

“Jen’s right.” Bucky shook his head. “You are an idiot…”

Steve watched as Bucky sauntered off across the lawn and he turned to look at Katie who was now stood talking to one of the other mothers. Sam shrugged and clapped him on the shoulder.

“Think you might have just earned yourself a night in the spare room…”

Steve groaned and let his head fall backwards, looking skywards for a moment before he head back to the garage. He needed another beer.

******

It wasn’t long following the cake that the party began to filter out. Katie and Steve made sure Rori thanked everyone for coming as they left and soon they were down to the last 2, a little boy called Ryan and Aurelia. As Ryan’s dad shook Steve’s hand and thanked Katie they waved him off and it came to Dani. Steve noticed his wife stiffen slightly besides him and made sure that he didn’t offer the woman a hug or anything, simply nodding to her politely as Aurelia hugged Rori.

“Mommy…” Aurelia asked, and Dani looked down.

“Yeah honey?”

“Can Rori come play tomorrow?”

“I errr…” Dani looked at Katie who inclined her head slightly. She turned to Steve.

“We don’t have any plans do we?”

He shook his head.

“Then, yeah, it’s fine by me.” Katie nodded and the little girls both gave a squeal.

“Ok, well, erm…” Dani looked down slightly before she took a breath and looked back up “Do you want to drop her off at say midday ish?” “Sure.” Katie said.

With that she watched Dani lead Aurelia out of the garden and down the side of the house.

“Want me to make a start on clearing up?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, ok.” Katie nodded, before she turned and headed back into the house. She shot through the hallway, cursing herself that she was actually going to do this. She opened the front door and caught Dani just as the woman was climbing into her BMW.

“Can I have a word?” She asked. Dani hesitated slightly before she nodded and closed the door making sure Aurelia was strapped in.

“Look, I erm. Well, I wanted to say that…well I was out of order with what I said about your husband before.” Katie said softly. “I had no idea about what had happened between the two of you.” Dani shrugged her shoulders. “It’s fine.” “No, it’s not fine. It was cruel. I shouldn’t have said it. I know what its like to be cheated on and…”

Dani looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

“It was, well it was a long time ago.” Katie shrugged as she continued. “I just wanted to apologise because I know what you’re going through and..” Dani scoffed “You, with your perfect life and…” “You think my life is perfect?” Katie snorted “I’m as fucked up as the next person. I’ve seen and been through things you couldn’t possibly begin to imagine.” she took a deep breath, levelling out her voice “Somehow I wonder how I came through the other side but…”

“Sorry “ Dani looked down, “I know, I just…” she looked at Katie “Forget it, apology accepted.”

“For the record, I’m not sorry for what I said about snapping your hand off.” Katie levelled her with a look “I meant that. You touch my husband again and I will kick the shit out of you.” Dani sighed “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it. Honestly, I was just being friendly…but, I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, however, I don’t think you need to worry. Even if some woman was throwing themselves at him, he wouldn’t look twice. That man only has eyes for you, it’s plain to see. It’s nice. I hope one day I find that.”

Katie looked at the woman and nodded curtly, contemplating what she had said, her earlier stupid wobble completely pushed from her mind.

“I’ll see you tomorrow Mrs Rogers.” Dani said, turning to head back to her car.

“Katie…”

Dani looked at her, frowning as Katie spoke again “Katie’s fine.”

With that the blonde smiled softly and nodded again, before she climbed into her car and drove off Katie made her way back inside, poking her head into the den to check that Jamie and Morgan were ok before she headed into the kitchen and poured herself another gin.

“Hitting the hard stuff?” Jen asked as she appeared through the back door.

“Yup.” Katie popped the P “Want one?”

Jennifer nodded and Katie set about pouring her one in silence before she threw a slice of lime and a few blueberries into each glass and topped them both with ice and tonic water.

“I’ll probably get bitched and moaned at for breaking it out so early but…” Katie shrugged as she slid the glass over to Jennifer.

“Do you care?” Jen asked.

Katie snorted “No.”

Jen laughed as she took a sip of her drink. “So you two had a bit of a disagreement..”

Katie snorted “Something like that. He told me I was being a fucking brat.”

Jennifer arched an eyebrow “Well, maybe a tad but…well, she deserved a warning.”

“I didn’t just warn her.” Katie sighed “I said something about her husband leaving her. I had no idea she’d been cheated on. I felt a bit shitty when Steve told me.”

“Doesn’t excuse her climbing all over your husband” Jennifer said.

“I know, I said that to her when I apologised.”

“You apologised?” Jen arched an eyebrow.

“For what I said about her husband.” Katie nodded “For the rest of it no, I told her I’d kick the shit out of her if she touched Steve again but she insisted she was just being friendly…anyway, it’s done, don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” “So how long you gonna give Steve the cold shoulder for?” Jen asked.

Katie shrugged “Until I feel like it. He shouldn’t have been a prick.”

Jen was about to reply but they were cut off when Peter walked into the kitchen.

“Hey Pete!” Katie beamed at him and moved to give the tall kid a hug.

“Sorry I’m a bit late Mrs R…” he smiled “the traffic on the way back was awful. Hey Mrs Bucky…”

“Stop calling me that!” Jen rolled her eyes as Katie laughed.

“I saved you some cake and a plate of food…” Katie smiled at Peter, and moved round Jennifer to the fridge.

“You’re the best!” he smiled at her as she handed him the foil wrapped packages and he retreated back outside.

She grabbed her gin and looked at Jenifer, who smiled at her and they headed back outside.

Now all the guest were gone and they were down to the close friends and family, the plan being the adults to have their own party and toast to Tony later on, everyone was sat on the large decking. Jen perched on Bucky’s knee and Steve sat up, making his lap available for Katie but she brushed past and took up and empty seat next to where Pepper was sat, taking Harry off her with a thanks. She turned to Rori who was perched on Sam’s knee to her right as Sam was chatting to Peter who in turn had one arm round Emmy, the other eating his food.

“You had a good day?” Katie asked her daughter gently, brushing her hair back off her face. She was filthy, covered in cake and all sorts of other food and dirt form the garden but Katie didn’t care. She loved it when her kids got the chance to play and be normal.

“The best!” Rori reached up to give her mum a hug. “But can I put my other clothes on now?”

Katie smiled “of course you can…in fact…I think momma wants to get changed too.”

Rori wriggled off Sam’s lap and Katie held out Harry to the man “Trade ya.” she smiled. Sam let out a grin and took the tot from her with a huge smile, one he reciprocated and she noticed him reach out to Peter’s plate and snaffle a sausage roll. He held his little finger to his lips as he looked at Sam who laughed and gave him a wink.

Katie led Rori past Steve who looked at her with a questioning glance but she ignored him and headed inside. Once upstairs Rori picked out her green dungarees and a sweater and Katie supervised her as she changed, then wiped her face clean laughing at her protests. When she was ready Katie let her head down the stairs, “Hold the rail…” she said, watching before she retreated into her own room, kicking off her sandals before she set about getting changed herself.

**** In the mean-time the conversation had taken a grim turn, a turn which the men decided they didn’t really want to be a part of anymore, so when Bucky announced he was going to get a beer Sam, Steve and Pete all jumped at the chance. Harry toddled in front of them across the grass, settling down in the sandpit near the jungle gym. Steve watched him for a moment before he turned back to the conversation.

“Why do women feel the need to talk about childbirth?” Pete said with a shudder and Steve laughed.

“Yeah, well, be thankful Katie wasn’t there…Rori’s birth was quite traumatic.” Steve said, the memory ingrained on his mind forever. She’d arrived so fast, and Katie had done it all with no pain relief. Frankly, she’d been astounding. He looked up as Rori came running over the garden to join her brother and frowned when he realised Katie wasn’t with her. But before he could think about it anymore, a line that Bucky spoke to Peter jerked his attention back to the men round him.

“It’ll be your turn soon enough.” Bucky winked, patting Pete on his shoulder.

“What?” Steve wheeled back round, turning his head to look at Bucky then Peter who’s face had drained of all colour.

“I…what? Why would…” Peter stumbled as he glanced from Steve and Bucky then back again. “I don’t know why he said that Captain, I mean Rogers, Steve…Mr…Mr Rogers…”

“Practicing Safe sex Pete?” Sam nodded, continuing the teasing whilst Bucky was fighting the urge to laugh at the look on Steve’s face “Good man, wrap before you tap…” “I’m not, I mean, we are but I don’t…because Emmy’s…well I …oh god…” Peter flushed and turned and fled, Steve spinning to watch him.

“Did he…did he just admit to having sex with my daughter?” he spluttered, looking at Bucky who laughed loudly, slapping his friend on the back.

“They’re 21 man.” Sam smirked “What do you think they get up to on alone time? Netflix and Chill…Amazon Prime and Sexy Time…”

“Yeah, not everyone was a virgin into their mid 20s…” Bucky quipped.

“Shut the fuck up.” Steve pointed at his friend, his face bright red.

“Language!”

“Wait…” Sam paused “Did Katie pop your cherry Cap?”

“No, she did not…”

“A chorus girl called Lottie did.” Bucky answered and Sam laughed even more.

Steve glared at Bucky “One more word I swear to God…”

“I’m just fucking with you Steve…” Bucky smirked “A bit like Pete is with…”

“Jerk.” the word was little more than a snarl as Steve gave Bucky a hard one-handed shove in the chest. To anyone else it would have sent them sprawling, but Bucky merely stumbled back a few steps, his laughter louder than ever.  Steve shot him another look before he headed inside to find Katie. As he walked into the hallway she stepped off the bottom stair and it became apparent why she’d taken a little longer than he expected.

“You changed?” Steve looked at Katie, frowning. Gone was that gorgeous maxi dress and in its place she wore a pair of jeans and a long sleeved oversized chunky pink sweater that hung slightly off one shoulder, giving him a flash of a baby blue bra strap and her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. He loved that sweater on him, exposing her neck and shoulder to him, enough of a flash to make him think about running his lips over her skin. God, even in her casual clothes like this she looked effortlessly gorgeous.

“Yeah well Rori wanted to get changed and I figured I may as well too as it’s gonna start getting chilly.” she shrugged.

“Oh.”

“Is there a problem?” Katie asked looking at him.

“No, I just…well, you looked amazing in that dress…” He stepped towards her, reaching out to take her by the waist but she stepped back.

“And I don’t now?”

“Oh stop being ridiculous.” he said, shaking his head as she pushed past him and headed into the kitchen “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Well add it to the list of the many things I’ve been ridiculous about today.” she said, her tone a little icy as she grabbed her drink off the side and headed outside.

Steve let out a groan of frustration as he watched her go.

**** An hour or so later Harry crawled onto Katie’s lap and nuzzled into her neck, hand winding into her hair as he gave a yawn. Katie let him sit where he as for a moment before she stood up and said she was taking him to bed. Steve offered to go with her but she shook her head and said she could handle it, carrying him inside. Steve watched her go before he felt a hand on his arm and he turned to look at Jennifer.

“You know she apologised to Dani before.”

Steve frowned, he hadn’t been expecting that. “What? When?”

“Just before she left.” Jennifer said, sipping her drink “Although it wasn’t a full olive branch, more like an olive twig…”

Steve snorted “Let me guess. She apologised for the dig about her husband but still threatened to snap her hand off if she came near me again?”

“Something like that.” Jen said. “Listen, Steve, I wasn’t going to say anything but the last few years or so…you know you guys draw a lot of attention since everyone came back from the Snap, and you only have to look on social media to see the things that people post…” “We’ve always had public interest but I don’t read it.” Steve frowned, not sure where she was going with this. “I know but Katie does and, well, there are some pretty…how do I put this, dirty things written by females about you on there, especially since you started teaching at the University. Maybe she feels a little bit more insecure about stuff than she lets on.” “She’s no reason to be insecure.” Steve shook his head “Jen, I’d never do that to her. Hell I don’t even want to think about any other woman in that way…” “I know that, I just wanted to make you understand why she reacted the way she did. I’d do the same and I’m not sure you’d appreciate another man fawning over her either.”

Steve looked at the woman, he knew she was right. He glanced at the door to the house and stood up, nodding.  He headed up the stairs, the sounds of soft laughter hitting his ears.

“Harry,  Momma doesn’t want a bath…stop splashing me!”

He gently opened the bathroom door and leaned against the door frame, smiling as Harry was in the bath, Katie attempting to scrub him down.

Honey…” he said softly. She turned to look at him “I’ll do that, you go sort his pyjamas.”

Katie nodded and stood up, passing by Steve in the doorway. He gently reached out, hands falling to her hips.

“Steve…” she said softly.

“Look, I’m sorry for before.” he said, his hands squeezing her hips “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” “No you shouldn���t” she said, before she sighed “I probably was a little OTT though…”

“That you admitting I was right?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She narrowed her eyes and pushed him in the chest gently “Don’t push it.”

He chuckled as he let her go and turned to his son. Once he was suitably cleaned and Steve’s shirt was suitably wet thanks to his splashing antics he lifted him out, wrapped him in his little teddy bear towel with the hood and carried him through to his bedroom. Katie had laid out the pyjamas on his bed but wasn’t in there. Steve set about towelling the kid off, gently grabbing his arm as Harry made a break for it, stopping him from running out of the room in all his naked glory. After a few more giggles and wriggles Steve had him wrestled into his pyjamas and was just smoothing his light brown hair down when Katie came back carrying Gerald, his stuffed giraffe that he point blank refused to sleep without.

“No sleep.” Harry muttered, his eyes heavy as he gave a yawn taking the toy off his mother.

“Yeah whatever pal, I give you 30 seconds tops…” Katie said, sitting on the side of the bed as he gave another yawn as he laid back on the pillow. She gently kissed his head and stood up, as Steve did the same and they both made towards the door. When Katie looked back his eyes were already shut.

Steve stood behind his wife, his hands wrapping around her, chin resting on her shoulder as they watched their youngest for a moment before Katie moved back and pulled the door too.

“Come here…” Steve said gently, pulling her to him and she went willingly, her arms wrapping around his back, face pressing into his chest.

“I did what you wanted” she muttered, her voice slightly muffled from the fabric of his jersey, “apologised.”

“I know, Jen told me.” Steve replied, “Doll, I didn’t want you to apologise just because I asked…”

Katie shrugged, her cheek still against his chest “I didn’t. It was the right thing to do. Well, about her husband. I will break her face though if she touches you again.”

Steve sighed and pulled back slightly to look down at her. “You know you really have nothing to worry about don’t you?

She looked down and he gently reached out and with his thumb and forefinger tipped her head up to look at him.  “I don’t want anyone else” “I know and I don’t worry as such, I just…well I don’t like people…”

“Touching your stuff, yeah I know…” Steve chuckled as he finished the familiar phrase with her.

“If I’m such a brat why did you marry me?” she rolled her eyes.

“Because I love you, brat tendencies included.” he smiled, his lips dropping to hers in a gentle kiss as his hands slid down to cup her ass. He looked at her cheekily “You still not wearing any panties?”

“Sorry Soldier…” she smirked “Should have took me up on the offer before.”

He gave a groan “Do you have any idea how much self-control that took to say no?”

“Serves you right…”

“You’re being a brat again.” he said, and she grinned.

“Say it in the way I like…” she whispered and he smirked, pulling her closer, his fingers digging into the flesh of her behind. He bent down so that his lips were by her ear and when he spoke his voice low and sultry.

“Such a fucking brat…”

She practically purred as his lips brushed her ear. “What you gonna do about it, Daddy?” she asked, looking up at him from under lidded eyes.

“Oh I’m gonna show you…” Steve said, and quick as a flash he had hoisted her up, drawing a soft squeak of surprise from her lips as he carried her into their room. Kicking the door shut he deposited her unceremoniously on the bed, causing her to bounce slightly on the mattress before he crawled over her.

“You know…” he said, a soft kiss to her exposed collar bone “This has been driving me crazy all evening, you know I love this sweater on you.” “Why do you think I wore it?” she shot back and he gave a groan as he pushed down harder onto her, the now very present bulge in his trousers pressing against her spot, causing her to moan softly.

“Fucking little tease…” he said, his lips trailing up her neck to her jawline. He gave a little nip before he reached her lips and slotted his mouth onto hers in a deep, needy kiss. Their tongues tangled furiously as he reached down between them, gently grabbing the hem of the offending sweater. With a tug he pulled it over her head and gave another loud groan as he saw the baby blue lace bra.

“You see something you like?” she asked as his hand trailed the edge of the lace.

“Oh I like it, very much…” he said, his hand giving her breast a squeeze as he kissed her again. His mouth moved down her neck and he kissed her sternum then across her chest over the swell of her breast, pulling the cup of he bra down to tease her nipple gently with his mouth. His hand grabbed at the other cup and he pulled it down, roughly and then he heard the tear of fabric. Katie sat up, leaning on her elbows and looked down.

“Seriously?” she deadpanned. Steve winced and looked at her, sheepishly before he shrugged.

“In for a penny…” he quipped as he reached up with his other and with a sharp tug he ripped the garment completely open.

“You’re a fucking jerk.” she shook her head, laughing

“I’ll buy you a new one.” he muttered, his head once more returning to her chest, lips latching onto on nipple as his fingers gently tweaked at the other. Her hands gripped at the bed covers as the heat began to grow between her legs and Steve felt her push up against him seeking friction, anything for relief.

“So needy tonight baby girl…” he muttered, his mouth trailing back upwards to claim hers again in a searing kiss and he pushed down, giving her what she wanted. He swallowed her soft moan and pulled back slightly so he could pop the button and then the zipper on her jeans. He began to pull them down but he got so far and then they stuck, tight.

“Fucks sake…” he muttered and Katie gave a little giggle as he started to wrestle with the damned skinny jeans. “Doll, you look great in these but…”

His frustration built as Katie could do nothing but laugh at the annoyed look on his face as he tugged and pulled ad the fucking irritating denim.

“I’m sure this used to be easier.” he grumbled.

“I wasn’t as fat then.”

“Shut up.” he said sharply. He gave another sharp pull which jerked Katie further down the bed causing her to laugh again, and he was just debating ripping them off as well when she tugged at his hair.

“Don’t even think about it.” she narrowed her eyes “They’re Armani…”

“They’re fucking annoying” he mumbled, as he continued to pull and eventually worked them down over her ankles and tossed them to the side.

“You know if you’d have done me when I said before then the jeans wouldn’t have been an issue.” Katie said as he ran his hands up the side of her thighs gently.

“Actions have consequences…”he muttered, his nose skimming the waist band of the matching baby blue French knickers she was wearing. He kissed his way along her tummy, gently flicking a path up to her belly button with his tongue and she arched her back slightly, letting out a soft sigh. He moved back down and his lips found the apex of her thigh and kissed their way upwards until he nuzzled softly at her panty clad entrance, drawing a keen from her mouth as he took a deep breath, the garment was soaked.

“You’re fucking drenched sweetheart…” he purred as he slid his hands up and pulled her panties down,  kissing back up her leg as he threw them over his shoulder, and set to her with his mouth. His tongue lapped, swirled, a well-known practice as he knew exactly where to pay attention to and in no time at all he had her right where he wanted, a writhing mess, one arm thrown over her mouth to stifle her, frankly, filthy noises for fear of waking their son. The other tangled in his hair and as her pleasure mounted her nails dug into his scalp and he gave a groan.

“Stevie…I’m…” she wined and her back arched, her legs trembled and she uttered a soft “Fuck” as he felt her let go. He took the opportunity whilst she was coming down to shuck off his jeans, he didn’t even bother with his sweater, he was too far gone and needed her now. Grabbing her hips he pulled her further to him and sliding his hands under her back he knelt up and easily lifted her onto his lap. Her legs wrapped around his waist as she gently slid down onto him, her head falling to his shoulder with a groan as he began to thrust up wards.

“Off…” she demanded, tugging at the bottom of his sweater and he moved his arms so she could pull it over his head, not once breaking his rhythm.

“Fuck baby you feel so good” he groaned as he pushed up harder and harder. Her teeth bit into his skin and he hissed at the slight bite of pain increasing his pace until he was relentless, driving into her as deep as he could, hands on her hips, pulling her down to meet him. Her face tilted towards his and she pressed her lips to his, the kiss sloppy and desperate before she groaned again into his mouth.

“Come on doll…” he whispered, “I’m close…tell me you are…”

“Yeah…” she stuttered, her head falling forward again before it looked back, and he dipped forward his mouths swirling at her breast again. At that she let out a low keen and he felt her tightening before her mouth parted in a silent scream, her eyes flittered shut as she pulsed around him. The feeling of her coming undone was enough to tip Steve over the edge and with a few more deep thrusts he spilt inside her and then collapsed backwards, taking her with him.

They were both silent for a while, Steve’s fingers gently tracing up and down Katie’s spine as she hummed in satisfaction, her head resting on his shoulder.

“You good?” he asked, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Yeah…” she said, and she moved and looked at him, sliding her nose against his “We should get back downstairs.”

“Do we hafta?”

“Yes” She chucked, and she rolled off him and Steve pouted at the loss of contact as she headed into the bathroom to clean up. When she came back Steve passed her and gave her a soft kiss before she dressed again. Once they were sorted and she had straightened her hair out they both made their way downstairs. Steve gently kissed her cheek before he reached into the cupboard in the kitchen and pulled the Wakandan Spice out along with 2 glasses and headed outside. Rhodey had arrived and Steve placed the items he was carrying on the table and reached over to shake his hand.

“Kissed and made up?” Bucky asked from his spot on the chair, Jen still on his lap, as Steve poured them both a good measure of the amber liquid.

“Something like that.” he said handing Bucky a glass. Bucky smirked as Steve looked at Rori who was sat on one of the chairs with a tablet in her hand, earphones in her ears as she watched whatever was on the screen. He crossed over to her and gently tugged an ear phone out and she pouted, making her look just like her mother when she did the same.

“Baby, it’s time for bed. You cant watch that upstairs ok?”

“I can stay up and watch this in my room?” she said, eyes wide. They very rarely let her do that but it was her birthday party after all.

“Yeah.” Steve said.

“Ok.” she nodded. She paused the programme and Steve picked her up whilst she said goodnight to everyone. Making his way back into the kitchen he paused as Katie was filling an ice bucket for the champagne she had just opened.

“Rhodey’s here.” he said and she smiled, nodding.

“Yeah he said he was gonna stop by, he misses Tony as well.” she said gently.

“I’m going to bed Momma” Rori said “Daddy said I can watch my film in bed.”

“Well it is your special day baby” she smiled, kissing her cheek. “See you in the morning.”

Steve carried her out of the room whilst Katie grabbed enough glasses and carried them outside before she gave Rhodey a hug. Back in the kitchen she pulled out the pre-prepared trays of crudites, cold meats and cheese which she had done for the adults and carried them back outside along with a few packets of chips, olives, dips and crackers, all of them giving a groan of delight.

“You’re a legend you know that?” Sam grinned up at her and she smiled, popping back inside for the Champagne.

“She ok?” she looked up at Steve. He nodded.

“I told her she could have a bath tomorrow.” he said, pulling his wife to him and giving her a long kiss. She smiled against his mouth and patted his chest before she grabbed what she had come for and headed outside. Once she had stopped fussing and made sure everyone had a drink she sat on Steve’s knee and his arm curled round her waist.

“I know it’s not actually his birthday until Wednesday, obviously, same as Rori’s, but…” Katie smiled at Pepper who returned her gesture “Happy Birthday Tony.” she said, her head looking up to the now darkening sky as she raised her glass as her eyes filled with tears. She still missed her brother so much it hurt. “Love you, to the stars and back.”

There were mumbles of toasts as everyone raised their glasses and Steve gave her hip a little squeeze.

They settled into a comfortable chat, memories of Tony being shared, namely by Pepper, Rhodey and Katie, everyone laughing along and as an hour or so passed Steve looked at his wife as her cheeks grew flushed the more she drank. Mind you, he was getting that way as well, that Wakandan shit was strong, not to mention the Asgardian ale he had been drinking all afternoon. He really should send another thanks to T’Challa and Valkyrie for keeping his stocks up.

“No,no,no straight up.” Katie laughed, drawing his attention back to the conversation a his wife wiped tears of laughter from her face “He thinks he’s getting lucky right? So he’s sat in his Audi flirting with her…”

”And then she served him a subpoena.” Pepper reached over to top her glass up, spilling some on the table as the alcohol made her aim sloppy. “God he was moaning about that for days.”

“And then he realised he was in love with you.” Rhodey smiled.

“What was it you said to us?” Pepper hiccupped and looked at him “You called us 2 seals fighting over a grape…”

“Get a roof.” Rhodey smirked and Pepper laughed, leaning back and closing her eyes with a nostalgic sigh. “I don’t care what anyone says, you’re never gonna beat the time he got Stern to tell him to go fuck himself.” Rhodey continued with a snort “That will forever be my favourite Tony memory of all time…”

“God he was an idiot.” Katie said fondly.

“But he was our idiot.” Pepper smiled at her, and she nodded. At that point Katie’s attention was taken to Jamie who popped his head out of the door to ask if he could take the potato chips into the den. She nodded to him and he gave a satisfied fist pump before disappearing again.

“What are they doing in there?” Katie asked.

“Making a space station out of Lego, apparently.” Emmy said. “We’re not allowed to go in there apparently, and the door has to stay shut once it’s done…” “Looks like Peter’s on the couch then not the fold out.” Steve said, looking at her “Pepper’s in the spare room.” Peter flushed and Katie dug Steve in the ribs with her elbow “Stop teasing him.”

“I’m being serious.” he said, looking at her before he shot a look at the young man.

“Dad…” Emmy groaned “I’m 21.”

“I don’t care…” Steve shook his head, draining his glass before Katie took it from him and poured him another generous measure, doing the same for Bucky. Jennifer took the glass from him and sniffed at it, pulling a face before she handed it back.

“Yeah leave Spiderling alone…” Sam quipped “You two have no room to talk…”

“Don’t…” Steve pointed at him.

“You know they once did it on a mission against a wall?” Sam looked at Emmy whose face arranged into a look of horror “That was what made Rori…” “Sam shut the fuck up…” Steve glared at him.

“Yeah that’s what I was saying when I heard you.” he shot back and Bucky gave a snort “school boy error leaving your comms on.”

“That’s disgusting.” Emmy groaned.

“That’s what Natasha said…” Sam quipped.

“You know Jamie was conceived between the toaster and the fridge.” Katie said snorting into her glass, “There’s only Harry that came from a bedroom…” “Jesus Doll…” Steve groaned as Bucky sniggered besides him. Sam grinned and was about to reply but Pepper piped up.

“Morgan was an Audi front seat Baby…” she hiccupped and Rhodey choked on his beer as the rest of the adults sniggered, well most of them.

“In thought you were gonna say Iron Suit baby.” Sam looked at Pepper

“Come on Pete, Brooke… I’m not listening to this…” Emmy said as she stood up, tugging on Pete’s hand.

“How the fuck would that work?” Bucky looked at him.

“Docking station.” Pete said as he allowed Emmy to tug him up. There was a moments paused before everyone bar Emmy started to laugh. She groaned and tugged on his hand as the 3 younger adults headed away from the table, Peter nodding to Steve nervously as the soldiers eyes watched them leave.

“Stop it.” Katie said gently, turning Steve’s head to face him.

“Did you know they were…you know?”

“Having sex?” Katie snorted and Steve rolled his eyes “Yes I did,I took Emmy to see Dr Kellet.”

“Seriously?”

“She’s 21 Steve…” “I know I just…” “She’s grown up.” “I just…oh I don’t wike it…” he whined, his head falling to her chest and she laughed, her hands tangling into his hair.

“Could be worse.” Katie teased, her nails scratching her scalp “You could have walked in on them like Tony did to us…”

“Doll,” Steve looked at her, shaking his head, “just don’t.”

 **Original Posting 1 2 **

[blissfulsun]

The very last part of lessons in love❣️ It’s been a long but rewarding process to finish my first ever series, I hope you all enjoy (i’m not fully happy with it but I’ve kept u guys waiting for so so long, I hope it’s the ending you all had in mind)🥺💗

word count: 1,707

What I learned from love (us) // Jeff Wittek

Empty. The room, the bed, and you. 

A quiet that feels so heavy it settles in the darkest depths of your chest and simultaneously claws at your throat, invisible to the naked eye as you stumble out of bed that morning and tiptoe down the stairs with the hope akin to that of a child on Christmas morning sparking at your shaky fingertips, only to find the rest of the apartment desolate of even his cologne. 

You hope it’ll wash away with the bed sheet haphazardly stripped off the bed and into the washing machine, with the bathroom tiles scrubbed to shining perfection: this realisation that your twenty for hours were just that. 

One day: one thousand four hundred and forty minutes, eighty six thousand and four hundred seconds that seem far more abstract in their numbers to hold enough time to allow you to both love and lose like never before. 

Jeff doesn’t call: doesn’t ring your cellphone or your door. 

There’s no good morning text or a picture of Nerf or a random dog he saw that day. 

You avoid the rest of your friends like the plague, unaware of the recent events that transpired between the two best friends. 

The deadline for your assignment works in your favour, reason enough to cut every call short and answer each message in the group chat with a polite no. 

Jeff’s name lacks even within that thread of texts. It’s like he’s never existed. 

But the ache in your chest and the tears staining your pillow serve as reminder that’s far from the truth, they gather in your eyes as you blankly stare at your reflection in the empty word document on your laptop for days, only allowing them to fall in the now cold familiarity of your shower or bed. 

Love is crippling, you realise. 

Finally feeling it for the first time but wishing for the undoing of it in the aftermath. 

Until you realise, this is not who you are. 

Staring at the shell of the girl with rosy cheeks and dainty fingers, hair lazily thrown up and his t-shirt adorning your body: 

a last act of masochism before you throw it out with the garbage that night, staying up until the sun comes up as you fingers type away with the deadline looming over your morning. 

It garners you the highest grade in your lecture, a mention by the professor in front of the whole class and a spot at the literature event he’s hosting for the department. 

You thought this heartbreak might feel more poetic as you watch the ink print across the pages. 

That it’ll become less heavy from theory to practice, parking outside the familiar apartment building but sitting in your car for another fifteen minutes before you decide to head inside. 

You realise it doesn’t when your feet turn in the direction of the stairs, prolonging the inevitable only to find Jeff’s apartment vacant anyway. 

There’s traffic on the way home. And for the first time in a long time you’re fine with being stuck in one spot for so long, the tips of your fingers growing cold at the thought of reentering your home. 

Because now, home is a person, has been for a while but you were maybe too blind to notice, too busy filling seconds of silence with laughter, eyes find those familiar pools of brown in every room, shoulders dropping their weight in his presence, fingers slotting in between much larger ones with timely practise. 

For a moment, you convince yourself you somehow fabricate the smell of Jeff’s cologne in the hallway leading to your apartment door, heartbeat accelerating in your chest and legs stumbling to get around the corner while your mind screams at you. It falls quiet when you’re met only with the dark wood of your front door. 

On the other side of town, Jeff stumbles into his own apartment, defeated at the lack of answer at your door earlier that night, foot steps heavy and falling short at the sight of an envelope on his floor.

More silence. Just as heavy on your chest as you clear your throat and frantically glance around the room. 

This time, it’s somewhat welcomed as your mind recollects itself before you look down at the pieces of paper in your hand. 

The words feel wrong as they leave your mouth, stinging on the tip of your tongue. 

Your mind knows they shouldn’t be read aloud like this: to a room full of people, strangers, who’ll only hear the pretty ornaments that barely scratch the surface. Y

ou go ahead anyway, stuttering through the first sentence while students and lecturers alike gather around to listen: 

‘Descartes wrote I think, therefore I am. A dutiful observation of his existence. I am. I wake up each morning, get out of bed and choose to live, though not all of us truly do. I certainly haven’t. I think, therefore I am.’ 

He didn’t come, your mind echoes the sentiment over and over. 

If your heart had thus far remained intact by no less than your entire strength, it’s falling apart right now. 

‘But I do not love, not the boy with blushing cheeks and clammy hands, the one who steals my first kiss under the bleachers, or the next one to follow with flowers and confessions made on the steps of my mother’s old porch, not even the freckled man with a guitar on his back and a promise of forever in his mouth.’ 

There’s practised precision to the way you read the words aloud, eyes glancing away from the sentence that have been ingrained in your mind, finding pools of brown standing tall in the crowd. 

You smile at Jeff, stuck between the relief spurting in your throat and the instinct to run, continuing somehow:

‘And I’m not good at this, always stutter over confessions and stumble through these feelings but with you? I’d follow blindly, rough around the edges but comforting like the first time I held your hand in mine. One day, I’ll hope to say I love you without decorating the words with ‘get home safe’ or ‘sleep tight’ or even ‘you make me a better person’. 

It garners a half broken smile from your best friend, his hands nervously fumbling with the pockets of his suit jacket. 

‘It will be like any other Tuesday night, except our stars will align. The violet undertones of my veins will spill. Heart strings will play to an awaiting choir and these words will finally hold enough meaning, far more poetic than the silence we’ve endured in the aftermath. For now, I grieve for the girl I was before you, perfectly unknowing, waking up each morning but choosing not to live. I grieve for the woman I am now, knowing yet choosing to wake up each and every new morning. I love, therefore I am.’ 

The applause shakes you away from the intense eye contact, professor’s hand patting your upper back as he engages you in a conversation you’re frankly too lost to follow. 

The words might be pretty, soft enough in their realisation to keep you busy with pointless conversation from their listeners: when Jeff finally makes his way to the front, shy in his steps in your direction, flowers clutched in his right hand as the other flies up to scratch through the brown locks at the nape of his neck.

The two of you stand like that for a while, awkward and quiet until you clear your throat and ask, ‘Are those..are they for me?’ 

For a moment, Jeff looks lost at the words until he finally glances at the bouquet clutched in his grasp. 

‘What?...I - yeah’ they’re clumsily shoved in your direction with that. 

‘Darling, look...I-’ Jeff sighs, space between your bodies growing smaller as your best friend nears. 

‘Why did you leave?’ you interrupt, the question whispered and cheeks aflame when you glance up to his towering height. 

Jeff has the decency to look lost for a moment, brows furrowed before his eyes shift and jaw clenches at the realisation. 

‘I didn’t know if I could do it.’ Jeff begins, hands quick to wrap safely around your waist when you begin to pull away at his words, like a wounded animal, not ready to hear the rest of his speech if it’s to carry similar tone of rejection. 

‘Y/n..’ his deep voice begs. When you find yourself glancing up there’s sudden depth there, shades of brown and green mixing together enough to keep you hypnotised long enough to let Jeff continue. 

‘I - we - we wouldn’t just be a trial run alright? If we do this, take that next step...then there’s no going back for me. If I get to wake up next to you, have breakfast together, go on dates and hold your hand, get to -to kiss you? Then you can’t expect me to ever be able to stop.’ 

There’s no pause to his words, no stutter or shaky breath as the confession settles in him and simultaneously washes over you in a room full of strangers and snobby class mates. 

You release a breath for what feels like the first time in a week as your hands involuntarily find their way to his chest, body swaying into Jeff’s like second nature, like what feels as if too long ago in your shower. 

‘You mean?’ you bite your lip, eyes searching his as everything else blurs into the background. ‘I love you.’ Jeff replies, delirious giggle escaping his lips as tears line your eyes. 

Neither of you can help the goofy, ear splitting smiles that stretch across your mouths. 

They remain that way even as your smaller body jumps up and Jeff’s own leans down only to tighten his hold around your frame when your lips touch for the very first time, clumsy and with teeth clicking as you both refuse to stop grinning even for a short while. 

That night, you fall asleep in the safety of his arms, legs intertwined under the covers while you drift off with the knowledge that tomorrow, you’ll get to wake up beside your best friend, the person that’s quite likely the love of your life. 

And then again the night after that...and the night after that, hopefully, for the rest of your life. 

[stevesharrlngtons]

what i want.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: takes place in s1 of hemlock grove just after roman’s coma and the aftermath.  

word count: 3.1k

a/n: yeaaahhhh so i know this is st related but it felt more right to post this here over my marvel account? anyways, i just really really wanted to write for roman and this poured out of me yesterday (which is surprising bc i can’t remember the last time i wrote a fic all in one day) but even though i already know this is gonna flop, i wanted to post it anyway just for fun (: i hope you enjoy and if you do read, please let me know that you think!!!!

With an ear pressed to his chest and a hand cradling his neck, you counted the rhythmic beats of his frail heart.

He looked the same, felt the same, smelt the same; but the man we lay still below you wasn’t Roman. Not in the metaphorical sense at least. This man who’s lashes lay gently against the apples of his cheeks obscuring his large doe eyes, wasn’t your love. He was still and quiet and lacked the emotion of your Roman. Your Roman who could never hide how he really felt, who wore every feeling on his sleeve, unable to mask his emotion.

At least, always around you.

A soft french ballad played in the background as you hunched over his hospital bed in the attic of the Godfrey home. You could hear the faint scratch of the needle against the vinyl, more so when there was a lull between songs.

Heavy footsteps entered from your right and you knew before they reached you that it was Shelly to fetch you for school.

“I know, Shell.” You said quietly, like you might wake Roman from his restless sleep if you spoke any louder, “I just need a few more minutes with him.”

The tall girl loomed over you both, watching you stroke Roman’s cheek lovingly with your thumb, the rest of your nimble fingers still holding his thin neck.

She had never experienced the kind of unequivocal and palpable love that she did when she observed you and Roman together. She often wondered if all the tales of true love and soulmates that were regaled in some of her favorite novels were actually true? Because the way you looked at Roman, and the way Roman looked at you, could not be fabricated or faked.

After a long beat of silence, Shelly gripped her phone and typed out a simple message to you.

“I miss him, too.”

She could see tears forming in your eyes once more. Your eyes that seemed to have not ceased their perpetual filming for the last two weeks Roman had been under.

All you could was nod in response. When Shelly placed a dense hand on your shoulder, you silently wept.

It all felt so surreal. But Roman was always larger than life, you probably should have prepared for something like this. You were just so scared.

That night two weeks before, when he had come to you in the pouring rain, drenched to the bone, you had been scared then, too. Roman was dramatic, yes. But never anything like this. He trembled fiercely and his fingers twitched and his muscles rippled with fear.

He didn’t seem himself as you wrapped him in blankets and placed him in your bed to warm his icy bones. You had wound your arms around him as he cried into your neck, tears and snot streaking your skin as you soothed him the best you could.

“I’m ugly, I’m a monster, I am unlovable and disgusting.” He chanted between hiccups and deep intakes of breath, like he was under a spell.

“Please stop, please don’t say that. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. I love you, I always will.” You whispered sincerely to him, beginning to shutter yourself at the uncharatieric behavior he was displaying.

He startled you even more when he grasped your wrists together with one hand and flipped you onto your back, meeting you with a fierce kiss before you could comprehend his actions.

It was all teeth and tongue and labored breathing as Roman pulled your strings in only the way that he could. Once he was inside you, he only became more brutal. It was more pain than pleasure as he looked at you with soulless eyes and his mouth agape. But everything Roman was, was good. Even now he felt like heaven.

When he had finished and pulled two orgasms from your body, he collapsed on top of you. You cocooned him with your limbs, whispering loving words and frightened questions as his body seemed to pass out from sheer emotional exhaustion, anchoring you beneath him.

The next morning, you were dressed in nothing but Roman’s cardigan and tucked underneath your duvet with no knowledge of his departure the night before.

It was only minutes after you woke that Olivia called to curtly inform you of Roman’s condition.

You placed your own hand, the one not holding Roman, over Shelly’s and squeezed it.

“He is so lucky to have you.” You said, swallowing thickly to look up and give Shelly a smile, “He loves you so much, I know he’ll wake just for you.”

Shelly knew you were trying to soothe her as well, something you had a knack for since you came into the two Godfrey’s lives. She appreciated it greatly, but wished you would let yourself swim and stop trying to make sure she stayed afloat.

“You, as well. He will wake for us.” Shelly typed and you squeezed her hand in a tight pulse.

“We can only hope.”

You dropped Shelly’s hand as she went to turn the music off while you kissed Roman goodbye.

“Where, today?” Came Shelly’s mechanical voice as the music ceased.

“His left eyelid.” You replied, standing up and stroking Roman’s porecelain cheek.

You had taken to kissing a new part of Roman each day as you left him. To cherish him even while his mind was missing. You were saving his lips for when he woke, hoping his subconscious would crave your mouth on his enough to jar him from his slumber. Roman was never quiet about his appreciation for your lips.  

“And tomorrow?” She asked.

“The other.”

As you sat in english class, you couldn’t help but feel Peter’s absence in the seat next to yours. With neither him nor Roman around, you felt off kilter. The boys had been going through a rough patch lately, but Peter was still your friend when Roman wasn’t looking. Giving you winks that would reply with an eye roll, and chatting between classes. You believed you could mend the fence between the two men by simply being Switzerland, but after the police incident, Peter wasn’t so sure.

But you and Roman were alike in many ways, you told Peter as much.

“You two will work this out. Even if it gets hard.” You say flippantly one day as you rummaged through your purse for a tube of lipgloss.

“Yeah? And how do you know? Are you an oracle and just haven’t told me?” Peter jokes as you take the cosmetic from your bag.

You remove the fuzzy doe-foot applicator from the pink make up with a loud squelch and smirk at him.

“Because not only do I know everything,” a swipe of the goods on your lips, “But, I always get what I want.”

Now, his absence along with Roman’s seemed to be significant. Connected.

And then you got a call.

And the ID almost gave you a heart attack.

You fled the classroom without the formality of an excuse. It wasn’t any secret that you and Roman were a couple, so some teachers had been far more lenient with you since he had fallen under. Thankfully, Ms. Day was one of them.

You ran from the class and around the corner for the veil of privacy before you picked up the call.

“Roman?”

“God, how I’ve missed your voice.” He said, punctuated with his melodic laugh.

You burst into tears, clenching your phone tightly in your sweating palm as Roman cooed to you.

“Hey, hey, no. No tears, baby. Too fucking hot to be sad, you know that?”

“I’m not sad, God no! These are tears of joy, of fucking relief.” You felt suddenly very fatigued from the worry and dread escaping your body at the sound of Roman’s voice, and slid down the wall to the grey linoleum below.

“Good, hate to think you’d forget about me after two weeks out of commission.” You could see his smile in your minds eye and your stomach twinge with love.

“You know I could never forget about you.” You replied, whipping your damp cheeks on the back of your hand.

“I’m glad. I was counting on it.” You can see his smirk now.

“Dick.” You laughed and he did as well.

“Eh, you love me.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

There was a silence and you wished so helplessly that he was in your arms. Your Roman. Not the still and sterile one. The one with a wicked tongue and a beautiful smile that he offered to you so freely.

It was in this silence though, that you heard the purr of an engine.

“Baby, are you in a car? Are you with Olivia?”

“Uh, no. Not exactly.” And the bubble of joy popped just as it had formed.

“Roman, where are you? Why are you in a car?”

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, my love.” He hummed quietly his adoration and immediately you knew what was happening.

“Put Peter on the phone.”

“How did you-”

“Just fucking do it, Roman.”

You could hear him curse, then the shuffle of the phone being passed between hands.

“Hey, (Y/N/N), how’ya doin’?” Peter asked, faking a calm tone.

“Let’s forget the goddamn pleasantries, Peter. What in the living fuck are you doing trying to track this wolf when Roman just rose from the dead?”

“Rose from the dead sounds a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Does it sound like I give a shit?”

“Frankly, no. It doesn’t.”

“And what does it sound like I give a shit about?”

“Probably Roman not doing this right now.”

“Bingo, Fiddo. Now you either take him back to his house or I am coming to find you two and I promise you, I can be scarier than Olivia.” You hissed into the receiver, looking around to make sure no rouge students in the halls were hearing your conversation.

“Oh I don’t doubt it. But this was his choice, (Y/N). Nothing neither of us can do anything to change his mind.”

“Peter, I swear to-” This time, you were the one cut short.

“Baby, listen,” Roman said after commandeering his phone back.

“No, Roman, you listen! I know you have some attachment to helping kill this thing, but now isn’t the time.”

“But it is. It’s complicated, but you just have to trust me on this.”

“I do trust you, Ro. I do. But I don’t trust whatever this thing is.” You sighed, leaning your head back against the wall, “Unfortunately I do trust what it is capable of. Which is a fuck tone pain.”

“I’ll be safe. I have Peter, Peter’s got me. I got this. We know what we’re doing.”

“Wish I could believe that.”

“Baby, I promise. I swear, even. We are gonna find some answers and then I’ll be home to you in one piece.”

You pause and Roman calls your name from the phone, his voice vulnerable.

“It’s funny. This morning you were in a coma and you were more safe then than you are right now.”

“I love you.” Roman says firmly.

“I know.”

Another pause and you know you can’t scold your way out of this one.

“Just… please call me when you get back. I don’t think I can take another minute of being away from you.” Your tears were beginning again.

“Me too. You’re all I can think about,” Roman sniffles, “I need you, I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You both sit in silence on the line before Roman tells you he needs to go.

“Ok… but hey, Turner?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell Hooch to be careful. Both of you just… be careful.”

“Always.”

And the line goes dead.

After school you debated going straight to the Godfrey residence to wait for Roman to return, but decided against it. You weren’t sure exactly what Olivia knew and didn’t know, and didn’t feel like being alone with her while you figured it out.

So, you waited anxiously in your bedroom, doing everything possible to quell your shaking nerves. You had a perpetual tremor in your body as fiddled with your phone to try and distract yourself. Which was partly true, the other reason your phone was glued to your palm was so you would know the second Roman contacted you.

Though, as the sun descended in the sky and the night sky spanned for hours, you were becoming more restless. Whatever Peter and Roman were doing was no doubt dangerous and time sensitive, and it made you sick that it was nearing midnight without any word from either boy.

As the night continued to wear on and your mind ran away from rationality into an amalgamation of pure fear and absurdity, you decided you couldn’t sit around anymore. You weren’t going to wait for Roman to call and tell you he was home safe. You were going to drive to his house and wait for him there, and if he wasn’t back in an hour, you’d go out looking for him yourself.

As you put on a pair of house slippers and a sweatshirt over your nightgown, your phone vibrated on your vanity. Your heart began to speed up in your chest as you rushed over to the table and picked up your buzzing phone. On the screen was a text alert from Roman, with only one word present:

Come.

And you didn’t need to be told twice.

When you arrived at the Godfrey’s, you fled your car so quickly you almost forget the keys in the ignition. You ran up the front steps and banged both fists on the door needing to use your excess anxiety and adrenaline for something. And while you didn’t want to face Olivia’s wrath, your judgment was clouded by the chance of seeing Roman, alive and well.

When Roman finally opened the door, you wasted no time throwing yourself into his arms. He stumbled at the impact of your embrace, but was quick to remedy his shock by wrapping his arms around you. The feeling of this made your throat constrict.

“Jesus fucking Christ I missed you.” Roman all but growled as he firmly smoothed flyaways from your hair and placed his strong hand on the back of your neck.

“You have no idea how much I missed you, Ro.” You said, voice thick with tears as you began to pepper kisses anywhere you could reach.

Neck, jaw, ear, temple, cheek, shoulder, trap, clavicle, repeat.

Roman groaned appreciatively in your ear as you covered him in your lips.

“You scared me half to death you know?” You said between kisses.

“I know, I’m sorry. Things have been… odd. I still can’t remember it all.” Roman says, his tone confused.

“Well, Olivia said-”

“I know what she said. I just don’t know if I believe it.”

You furrowed your brows and tried to wiggle in his hold, silently signaling for Roman to place you back on your feet, but he only gripped you tighter.

“Not yet. Just, stay a while.” His voice wavered.

You finally pulled back to look at him, his eyes red from tears and shadowed. Sometimes it was difficult to look at him, his beauty and pain were just too much.

“I’m staying, Roman. You couldn’t get me to leave if you wanted to.” You reply.

A wash of emotion washes over his features as his lip quivers and his eyes attempt to blink back tears. You opened your mouth to try and alleviate him of whatever he was feeling when his mouth crashed to yours.

You forgot how good his lips felt against yours as your mouths meshed together. The velvet of his tongue and the mint and smoke on his breath. His hands gripping you everywhere as he pressed you impossibly close, moaning into you with deep primal noises sounding from his chest.

“Roman, baby,” You pulled away for air and Roman promptly moved his attention to your neck and clavicle. “I need you. Take me upstairs, I can’t wait any longer.”

Roman groaned and bit you hard on the shoulder before hitching your legs higher on his hips and running you both up the winding staircase behind him.

Bruises, at the behest of his mouth and fingers, littered your body as you lay on Roman’s chest as you both still reeled in the blissful aftermath of your climaxes. Roman’s fingers idled along and spine while his unoccupied hand rested behind his head.

He had begun to tell the tale of his night, of Peter and the turn and Chasseur and his mother. He told you Peter was upstairs unconscious and that he was unsure what was going to happen when he woke.

“So, after all this, everything’s still shitty? Is that what you’re saying?” You muttered.

“Essentially. But I have hope… we’re going to figure this out. I know it.” Roman nodded, like he is reassuring himself more than you.

“Me too. You two are smart,”

“You flatter me.” Roman chuckles and looks down at you.

“Just trying to butter you up to get into your pants.” He laughs again and slaps your ass.

“Clearly it’s working.” He replies.

“Well that, and I always get what I want.” You say with a content smile.

Roman hums, “Don’t I know it.”

“You enable it.”

“Again, I know.” He kisses your forehead and you burrow closer to him.

You two lay in silence a bit longer before he sighs.

“I think we should move to sleep in the attic. Just in case something happens with Peter and he needs us.”

We. Us.

The small implication in his word choice makes you smile and once again fall under a wave of emotion, just so happy that your Roman was back to you.

You don’t know what you had done if there was no we or us with Roman any longer. But you choose to not fixate on the past.

You just nod and kiss the underside of his chin. Roman gives you a small grin and begins to get up. As you do the same, Roman throws you one of his white button downs, giving you a stern look as you raise an eyebrow in question.

“Just put it on. I got two weeks to make up for, baby. It started with reuniting, then fucking, and now you in my shirt.”

You try to hold off the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face and put on the shirt, buttoning it to just above your cleavage.

“Yeah? And what’s next?” You ask, watching Roman round the bed toward you.

“Sleep.”

Now in a pair of threadbare silk pajama pants and nothing more, Roman extends his hand to you.

“Shall we?”

“We shall.” You reply, taking his hand, weaving your fingers as he led you to the attic.

i hope you enjoyed even though it was for a different show!! and if you did, pls i’d love some feedback (:::: also let me know if you would possibly want another roman fic bc i have other ideas lol

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 12

warnings: none

a/n: Sorry this took me this long, guys! I’m back in school and am a little bit busier now, but I promise I’ll update as much as I can! Be warned that I did write a portion of this chapter with Can We Sing the Darkness to Light in my brain (it’s a choral piece and I’m a nerd lol) and so I probably found some of what I wrote a lot more emotionally compelling than it is due to my fragile state of mind when I hear a good tenor part. Whoops.

This chapter takes place during “The Headband.” The story kind of stalls for a bit here in the aftermath of Crossroads of Destiny, so I’m sorry about that, but I promise I’ve got some more exciting things planned for later!

Fire Lily Masterlist

The Fire Nation was weird. It was a thought that Y/N couldn’t get out of her head. Everywhere Y/N had been in the Earth Kingdom (besides Ba Sing Se, which was strange and creepy within its own right), had had the shadow of war looming over it constantly. Here, it was like it didn’t exist.

There was no fear in the Fire Nation, not like there was in the Earth Kingdom, and nothing like what Katara and Sokka had described about the Southern Water Tribe. Here, they weren’t constantly on alert. They could relax. Somehow, the Fire Nation had always been on the offensive. These people didn’t know what it was like, hearing about armies creeping closer to your home.

It was also strange to think about how Zuko lived there. The Fire Nation was his home. Y/N was letting herself think about Zuko now, every once in a while. She let herself think about Jet, too. She thought of him every time she picked up her swords to spar with Sokka. She thought of him every time she lit their fire at night.

They were staying in a cave outside of the village, and it gave Y/N the heebie-jeebies. She didn’t like how dark and damp it was, and it made her feel trapped. Toph felt right at home, surrounded on all sides by earth. Meanwhile, Sokka couldn’t get past the threat of “enemy birds.”

“They’re Fire Nation birds, guys,” Sokka insisted, waving his arms frantically to deter the birds in question.

“They’re birds, Sokka,” Katara corrected, rolling her eyes.

“So, this is how it’s going to be until the invasion.” Sokka looked around at their surroundings—the cave, some rocks, grass.

“Hiding in cave after cave after cave…” Y/N shuddered, glaring at the mouth of the cave.

“We don’t need to be cave people,” Katara said, putting a reassuring hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “What we need is some new clothes.”

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, “blending in is better than hiding out. We’ll be safer with Fire Nation disguises.”

As much as Y/N hated wearing Fire Nation clothes, she hated constant cave-living more. “I like that plan.”

“We don’t want to sit around and eat cave hoppers,” Toph said, hitting the cave wall. A few of the bugs came tumbling onto the ground, and Momo scooped one up and ate it with a chomp. Y/N winced. “They have much better food out there.”

“Well, where are we going to get clothes?” Sokka questioned, crossing his arms. “We don’t have nearly enough money.”

Y/N thought for a moment. “We could just steal some. I thought I saw some clotheslines when we flew in.”

The others stared at her for a moment.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?” Y/N added, uncertainly. Yes, they were the “good guys,” but they also needed clothes, and no one had any better ideas.

“Okay,” Katara agreed quickly. “Let’s go.”

---

As it turned out, stealing had been very fun. Y/N wondered briefly if that made her a bad person, but she had managed to find a ribbon for her hair, and the feeling of having it away from her face made her question her morals a lot less.

Y/N did try her best to find something that wasn’t red, to no avail. Soon, they were all clad in their Fire Nation getup. It felt a lot better than the soldier’s uniform, but Y/N still wasn’t sold on the red. Sokka and Aang seemed to be enjoying themselves, though, and Aang seemed a lot less upset about covering up his arrow.

Y/N was very unsure about the sleeveless red top and dark grey pants that she was left with. But it was definitely better than her tattered dress, and the ensemble was easier to move in. She liked how her arms were completely free, and the long pants made the grass let scratchy.

Katara and Toph looked great in their outfits, although Katara did seem upset about having to remove her necklace, and Toph had already punched the soles out of her new shoes. They made the unanimous decision to go into town and get some shopping done with the money they had left.

“Here.” Y/N took her own money out of her bag, as well as the gold cup with her family crest. “We can all use this. I don’t really need it anymore.”

It was time to let go of the cup. It would be useful to them, at least. And there were plenty more heirlooms in her family. And now, standing side by side with the Avatar, two of the most powerful benders in the world, and Sokka, in his genius, Y/N felt more confident than ever that maybe she’d be able to make it back home. Her father could forgive her for getting rid of the cup. Her mother thought it was ugly, anyway.

“Are you sure?” Aang asked with some concern. Y/N nodded.

“It’ll be more useful to us if we trade it,” Y/N insisted. Besides, the cup was just another reminder of Ba Sing Se.

“Wait.” Katara stopped Y/N as the others turned to leave. “Your hair. The ponytail is too low. The Fire Nation has them higher.”

“Oh.” Y/N didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it. She pulled the deep red ribbon out of her hair.

“Here, let me help,” Katara said, pulling the ribbon from Y/N’s hands. Y/N was tall, so she had to crouch a bit, allowing Katara to secure her hair into a ponytail that sat towards the crown of her head.

“Better,” Katara hummed approvingly. She took Y/N’s hand. “Now let’s go.”

The village they were in was vibrant and peaceful, Y/N noticed. There were plenty of people around, and Y/N hadn’t seen any soldiers yet. The group decided it was safe to split up if they wanted to. Y/N followed Toph and Katara to a jewelry booth.

Y/N helped Katara pick out a new necklace, and Toph donned a small crown. Y/N was a bit surprised—Toph didn’t seem like the type to appreciate jewelry. Y/N bought a set of matching gold bangles to put on her wrists.

“You know,” Katara suggested as she secured the necklace around her throat, “we could get you something for your swords. I know Jet had something like that.” Katara’s voice caught on Jet’s name for just a moment before recovering.

It would very useful, Y/N knew. She could always bend, but she felt like Katara could tell she had mixed feelings about it. Plus, she knew more about wielding the swords than proper firebending.

After a lot of scouring, Toph managed to locate a store for weaponry. Y/N asked the shopkeeper for advice on what to look for. He had seemed confused for a moment, and Y/N remembered that hook swords probably weren’t a common choice here—she had read once in her library that they were a traditional weapon from the northern Earth Kingdom. But luckily, the shopkeeper hadn’t asked any questions and directed her to the right area.

Y/N ended up settling on a belt-like sheath, with two loops at her hips that the hooked points of the sword easily fit through, but it would get stuck at the handle, holding the swords securely but still allowing for Y/N to pull them out without much trouble.

“Six gold pieces,” the shopkeeper said in an unnecessarily loud voice. Y/N frowned. They only had a few silver pieces and the cup left, and Sokka and Aang had the rest of the money. Y/N pulled the cup out of her bag and set it on the counter.

“I’ll trade this for it.” The shopkeeper’s eyes widened.

“Where did you get that?” He asked, eyeing the piece. It looked as if he thought it was fake; he picked it up and tapped it on the counter a few times.

“I’m from the colonies,” Y/N said. It wasn’t a complete lie. Technically, she was. The man gave her a brief look of disgust.

“It’s worth more than what you’re asking,” Y/N pressed, tapping a beat on the counter impatiently. She hoped he wouldn’t ask more questions or say anything about what his sour face was for.

“Deal,” the man said finally, taking the cup and stashing it behind the counter. Y/N felt surprisingly little as she watched it disappear from sight, and any wisps of sadness were expunged when she secured the belt around her waist.

Y/N walked back with Katara and Toph to their cave hideout. Sokka was already waiting, but Aang was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Y/N reassured. “There aren’t very many soldiers in this village, and his tattoos are covered.”

“Yeah, Twinkle Toes can handle himself,” Toph agreed, plopping down onto the grass.

“Hey, Y/N?” Sokka called, waving his arm. “Want to look over some of these plans with me?”

Before Y/N could respond, Katara was speaking. “You never ask me to help you with that stuff.”

“Hey,” Sokka protested. “You and Aang and Toph handle the bending, and Y/N and I will handle the plans. No offense, Y/N.”

“None taken.” Y/N knew her bending was almost useless—she could light their fire at night, but other than that she only knew a few basic moves. In a true bending fight, she was done for.

Y/N walked over to join Sokka, sitting on the grass in front of a rock that he was using as a makeshift table. Y/N was a bender, sure, but it was nice to have a non-bender around. Y/N wasn’t comfortable with her bending like the others, who were all masters of their own elements when she had never even had a formal teacher.

“I tried looking into that boiling rock you were talking about a bit more,” Sokka explained, spreading a map across the rock that he hadn’t shown her before. It was an older map of the Fire Nation—Y/N wasn’t sure where he got it.

“I couldn’t come up with much, but my guess is somewhere like that would probably be in one of the more volcanic regions of the Fire Nation.”

“But why would my brother be in the Fire Nation?” Y/N wondered aloud.

“What?” Sokka looked at her in confusion, an eyebrow raised. “You’re looking for your brother?”

“Um…” Y/N hummed awkwardly. “Yeah. He was arrested by the Fire Nation before I left home. I had a weird dream a few days ago, and he said something about a boiling rock.” She could tell Sokka was looking at her sympathetically, although she made a point to focus her eyes on the map.

“I know it’s a long shot,” Y/N acknowledged, “but I thought I’d at least try.”

“No, I totally get it,” Sokka shrugged. “You want him to be safe. I get that. He’s your brother.”

“I feel like it’s my fault,” Y/N admitted. “I didn’t help him. I actually made the situation worse.” Y/N gave a dry laugh. “I don’t know if he’d want to see me.”

“Of course he wants to see you.” Sokka looked affronted. “He’s your brother, and you’re supposed to take care of each other.”

“Yes,” Y/N groaned, “but I didn’t!”

“He’s your older brother, right?” Sokka clarified, his head echoing your nod in response.

“Well,” Sokka paused, as if searching for the right words, “as an older brother, I’m sure he wants to see you. And Y/N, I know it’s hard when you want to protect someone, and you fail.” Sokka’s eyes were filled with a sadness that made Y/N want to reach out and hug him, but she held off.

“But that doesn’t mean that that person is going to be angry at you,” Sokka continued carefully. Y/N felt like he was reassuring himself as much as he was her. “And even if you fail, you can keep doing everything you can to protect the people you care about. And I’m sure that he wants to do the same for you.”

“Thanks, Sokka,” Y/N said softly, her eyes beginning to water. Before she could back away, Sokka was pulling her into a hug.

Y/N hugged him back. She realized she hadn’t hugged anyone since… well, before she left home. They stayed there for a moment, before Sokka pulled away.

“Ready to review my schedule?” Sokka asked, suddenly upbeat. He unrolled a scroll that spread all the way across the rock and down onto the grass.

“Oh my…” The entire thing was color-coded. Y/N wondered where he got the ink for that. “Hand me a pen.”

Sokka smiled as they went to work.

---

Aang returned to camp later in the afternoon and was properly lectured by Katara. Sokka was completely appalled.

“You’re enrolled in Fire Nation school?” Sokka asked for the tenth time. Aang’s answer didn’t change.

“Yes. And we learn about the secret river tomorrow!” Aang reminded them. The secret river was the only thing getting Sokka to moderately accept the idea. Y/N thought Sokka was too easily persuaded by weird sneak-attack opportunities. “But I can’t go back unless I bring my parents to meet with the headmaster right now.”

“Y/N can be a pretty convincing actress,” Toph suggested. “Not for me, since I can tell when you’re lying, but others seem pretty convinced.”

“Sokka, Y/N,” Aang pleaded, “will you pretend to be my parents?”

“Sure,” Y/N agreed. If Aang really wanted to go to this school, she would help. She remembered how much she wished she could go to school. While it was still far from a normal experience… Aang deserved to have some fun like a regular kid.

“I don’t know,” Sokka murmured, looking contemplative.

“Secret river, Sokka!”

“Fine,” Sokka gave in. “But first we need to get our disguises!”

“Disguises?” Y/N echoed, but Sokka was already running off, Aang following enthusiastically behind him.

When Sokka and Aang returned, Y/N almost died from laughter. The beard plastered to Sokka’s face was ridiculous. She had no clue where he got it.

“Y/N, make your hair look more mature and put this in your shirt,” Sokka ordered, holding out a bundle of cloth fashioned into a smooth round shape. It looked like a bag stuff with wool.

“What?”

Sokka sighed exasperatedly. “Do you want to be convincing or not?”

“Fine.”

Y/N felt ridiculous and was pretty sure she looked almost as ridiculous as Sokka as Aang led them into the school building. Y/N noticed how everything inside seemed a little bit short, and portraits of Fire Lord Ozai hung on the walls, Fire Nation insignias everywhere. Y/N had never seen the Fire Lord’s face before until Aang had brought back his macaroni portrait.

Zuko didn’t look like him, Y/N noticed. Ozai’s face was sharp—Zuko’s was kinder. But Y/N found herself imagining Zuko on that poster, with his shaggy hair and scar, and that look on his face when he fired at the Avatar.

Y/N took a seat with Sokka and Aang as they entered the headmaster’s office. The headmaster was a severe-looking man with the same beard, sideburns, and thin mustache that all of the Fire Nation men Y/N had met seemed to have. He greeted them as they took their seats.

“Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs…”

“Fire,” Sokka replied haughtily. His accent was atrocious. “Wang Fire.” Y/N held back a snort.

“And this is my wife,” Sokka gestured to Y/N, “Sapphire.”

It took everything in Y/N’s power to not roll her eyes. “Sapphire Fire. Nice to meet you.”

“Well, Mr. and Mrs.,” the headmaster paused, “Fire. Your son has been enrolled here for two days and is already causing problems. He’s argued with his history teacher, disrupted music class, and roughed up my star pupil.”

“That doesn’t sound like our Kuzon!” Y/N said, giving Aang a discrete bump of her elbow when he smiled.

“That’s what any mother would say, ma’am,” the headmaster responded. “Nonetheless, you’re forewarned. If we continue to have problems, I’ll have to send him to reform school.”

“Reform school?” Y/N asked.

“By that, I mean the coal mines.” The headmaster stood, glaring down at them.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Headmaster,” Sokka said. Y/N wanted to facepalm. “I’ll straighten this boy out something fierce!” Sokka turned to Aang. “Young man, when we get home, you’re in for the punishment of a lifetime!”

The headmaster seemed rather satisfied with that response, nodding with a slight smirk.

“Thank you for informing us of our son’s behavior,” Y/N told him, trying to sound professional to make up for Sokka’s over-the-top character. “Goodbye.”

“Success!” Sokka cheered as soon as they were out of earshot. Y/N punched his arm.

“Wang Fire?” Y/N questioned incredulously.

“What? It’s a good name!” Sokka whined, rubbing the spot on his arm.

“Sapphire Fire?” Aang added with a smirk.

“Okay, so maybe that one wasn’t my best,” Sokka admitted, stroking his beard.

“Will you please get rid of that thing?” Y/N already didn’t like how much Sokka was enjoying his fake facial hair.

“Never,” Sokka replied with a smile.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami, @nadiblue. @la3divine, @sarsky, @aangsupremacy 

[amythedvdhoarder]

Memories to Keep

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: You discover Bucky keeps diaries about his life, who knew they would change yours?

Warnings: Some swearing, little bit of angst and a whole load of fluff

Word count: 3K

A/N: (gif not mine) Ahhh the return to Bucky fluff. This is for the lovely @angelinathebook and her 300 challenge. I had the prompt “The memories I have with you, are the best memories I have.” I tried to be a little more creative with this one so I hope you like it.

Not beta read, any mistakes are my own.

Reblogs and feedback are most welcome, so let me know what you think x

Masterlist

xxx

An odd scratching noise woke you from your slumber. You squinted across the bed to see the bedside lamp on and your boyfriend still sat up in bed.

“Buck, what’s going on?” you murmured, still half asleep.

“Sorry doll, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Buck reached across and gently swiped his thumb across your cheek.

“ ‘s okay.” You pushed yourself up so that you leaning against the headboard, drawing your knees up so that you were mimicking Bucky. After rubbing your eyes and blinking a couple of times you looked across at him and spotted a notebook resting against his thighs and a pencil in his hand.

“So that was what the scratching sound was. I thought we had mice,” your voice wavering slightly as you stretched your arms out in front of you.

“Nope no mice doll, just writing,” he chuckled softly.

“We’ve been going out for 6 months and known you for 2 years. I don’t think I have ever seen you writing before.”

“I’m not surprised, you sleep like a log. I normally wait ‘til your asleep doll,” you elbowed him gently and he clutched his arm in mock hurt.

“Hey you know what I’m like if I don’t get my 8 hours.” Bucky rolled his eyes at you and grinned.

“Yeah I learnt that the hard way. I remember trying to get you up for breakfast after one of Tony’s parties, I was actually terrified you were going to murder me,” Bucky couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice.

“In my defence I was hungover and it was 8 in the morning, to be honest that was entirely your fault,” you yawned and leaned over to snuggle up against Bucky who lifted up his arm to let you get closer.

“What you writing anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You can ask me whatever you want doll, it’s um-” he scratched his head with the end of the pencil as he tried to find the right word “- a diary I guess, just stuff I don’t want to forget.”

Your brows furrowed together and you tilted your head up to look at him properly. “What do you mean forget?”

A sadness filled his eyes as he looked at you. “Um I know what it’s like not to remember things, if I keep a diary then if, you know the soldier ever got activated then –“ his words tailed off and he sighed heavily, “-it’s like an insurance policy. It took ages for me to remember everything before. There is stuff that’s happened recently that I can’t afford to forget.” There were tears in his eyes now, lips pressed into tight line.

You nuzzled into his chest, arm tightening around his stomach squeezing him gently. He leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “You know that’s not going to happen Buck, don’t you? Shuri made sure that would never happen.”

“I just can’t run the risk doll,” he placed another quick kiss and closed his notebook, the pencil marking his the page and put it on the bedside table. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?” You untangled yourself from his so he could get off the bed. You smiled and shook your head.

As Bucky expected you were asleep again. He picked up his notepad from where he had left it, gingerly clambered back into bed as to not wake you. After his finished writing his entry for the day he clicked of the lamp and curled himself around your body. Even in your sleep you instinctively moved, pushing your body against him and gripping onto the arm he had thrown over your waist.

Bucky knew he couldn’t live without you. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would ever meet someone like you, that would let him in, treat him as normal person. He had never felt a love like it. Steve cared about him deeply and showed him every day. But you. He didn’t deserve you, the looks of adoration you aimed at him every time he walked into a room. He treasured every second he had ever spent with you even before you were together as a couple.

From the moment he had met you he knew there could never be anyone else. He had resigned himself to being your friend but when you had asked him out he could have exploded with joy. The thought of losing you made his chest tighten but he knew that one day something could come between you, that was part of the reason behind the diaries. He needed evidence that his time with you wasn’t just a dream but something real. Bucky had never imagined himself with a wife or kids or even a proper future until he met you. As he listened to your soft sighs as you slept he knew exactly what he had to do.

xxx

The other side of the bed was empty when you woke. As you stretched out like a starfish your fingers brushed up against a piece of paper. You took hold of it to see Bucky’s distinctive cursive writing on it.  

‘Sorry doll, didn’t want to wake you. Gone on an emergency mission should be back later tonight. Can you do something for me Y/N? (I’m gonna assume you’re going to agree J ) Please open my bedside cabinet?”

Quickly you climbed off the bed and knelt down in front of his bedside table and pulled open the door. Inside there was a small pile of leather-bound notebooks, similar to the one Bucky had been writing in last night. On top of these was another note.

‘These are all my journals from the last couple of years. Please read them and hopefully you will understand. I love you, B xxx”

So that is exactly what you did. You got yourself settled with a cup of tea and some snacks and hid yourself away in yours and Bucky’s room, knowing that it was the best place to avoid interruptions. The oldest of the books were written during Bucky’s time in Wakanda. It detailed the joy of having Steve back, making friends with Shuri and finding some acceptance of what he had been through and the reality of starting over again. He even hinted that birdbrain (Sam) didn’t seem too bad, he appreciated how loyal he had been to Steve and how he had sacrificed his own freedom for him.

When you got to the second book you found yourself reading about the first time you met Bucky.

Wakanda -  August 2018

Steve showed up and said the world is about to end. Surprisingly not the most interesting thing to happen today. A woman showed up with Steve, Y/N. No words would adequately describe her. She’s breath-taking and her smile lit up the room. I can still feel her hand in mine from when she shook me hand. There was no trace of fear when she introduced herself. Maybe she doesn’t know about me. All I know is before she showed up the end of the world didn’t seem too bad but now all I want is a chance to get to know her a little better. Steve better be wrong about tomorrow.

New York -  August 2022

5 years. I’ve lost 5 years of my life but on the upside the world didn’t actually end. Steve looks different; tired and there is a sadness to him. Y/N came and found me, turns out she wasn’t ‘dusted’. She said that the last five years had been awful. The world had changed and tried to move on as no one ever expected the team to succeed. But they hadn’t given up. She looks exactly the same as she did when I met her, which oddly was only yesterday for me but 5 years for her. Even covered in dirt and blood she was still the most beautiful person I have laid eyes on.

We sat and talked for hours whilst Steve was busy with the aftermath. I don’t think I have met anyone so easy to talk to, despite the day that she’d had she still managed to smile and laugh. Even though not much had happened to me in the grand scheme of things, she checked that I was alright and showed little concern for herself. When she left to find somewhere to sleep for the night she promised to catch me up on everything that had happened over the last 75 years. I never planned on re-joining the real world, I was just going to be a recluse and farm in Wakanda. Y/N makes me want more than that, is it possible that I can have a ‘normal’ life. Do I deserve it? All I know is that I haven’t been excited about anything for a long time, probably not since going to Coney Island with Steve. Now I am excited to start living again with Y/N as my guide.

You took a break at this point overwhelmed by what you were feeling. You could remember meeting Bucky for the first time; you had been so nervous. Steve had told you so much about him that you felt like you already knew him. Immediately you had been distracted by his eyes, they were impossibly blue and you could have spent hours looking into them. You had felt an immediate connection with him. But then of course Thanos happened and Bucky was ripped from your life before you even had chance to get to know him. All of the pain and challenges of those five years felt worth it the moment you saw Bucky again. You felt hopeful again. You had never known that he felt exactly the same way so early on.

For the next few hours you poured over Bucky’s journals, each page you turned your heart melting even more. As the diary entries moved on the content shifted. Most of what Bucky wrote was about the time he spent with you as you reintroduced him to the modern world. He outlined the moments where he realised he wanted more that friendship with you, the moments he started falling more and more in love with you. The first time you watched a film with him, the first time you ate lunch together, the first time you hugged him, your first date, your first kiss, the first time you admitted you loved each other. Each first was described in such detail you could see it all from his perspective. You had never felt so loved or in love with him. To anyone else this may seem a little obsessive or creepy but to you it made perfect sense. Bucky was afraid that one day he wouldn’t have his memories anymore, the thought of forgetting all the time he had spent with you terrified him. So, he wrote it all down to preserve it, that way he couldn’t forget everything, forget you.  

The fourth journal was the most recent. Bucky last entry was clearly the one he had started last night; the writing stopping midway through a sentence when you had clearly woken up and interrupted him. You flopped back onto the bed, your head landing on Bucky’s pillow, his diary clutched to your chest. Inhaling you took in that scent that was distinctly Bucky, a serene calmness washing over you. You weren’t sure why you did it but you turned to the next page. There was some writing there. Maybe Bucky had missed a page a while ago? You moved the page closer to your face so you could read it better. It was dated with today’s date.

Today is the day. I can’t wait any longer. You are the reason I still exist, you’re my everything. I realise that until I had you in my life I wasn’t living, simply existing. There is nothing in this world that I value more than the time we have spent together. The memories I have with you, are the best memories I have. With this in mind there’s one more thing I need to ask you to do doll.

Your eyes blurred with tears as you read the next line. Climbing off the bed, you quickly freshened up in the bathroom, pulled on some proper clothes and grabbed you bag before heading out the door. Bucky’s diary abandoned on the bed, open the last page he had written on.

xxx

Bucky headed straight for your room when he got back. He realised he had missed his time frame with it just having crept past midnight. This meant that you were likely in your room, curled up fast asleep in one of his t-shirts. He opened the door and noticed the light on, his diaries on the bed but worryingly you weren’t there. He glanced on the page that his diary had been left open and and immediately felt a wave of nausea. 

“FRIDAY, where is Y/N?” he said quietly.

“Miss Y/N is on the roof terrace Sargent Barnes.” He was already out of the door as FRIDAY finished her response.

He pushed open the doors and immediately spotted you leaning against the railings looking out over the city. Bucky’s heart was in his throat but as you turned and smiled at him, he felt instantly relieved.

“You’re late,” you teased.

Bucky covered the distance between you in a couple of long steps and went to wrap his arms around you but you stepped away. “Doll, come on. I missed you,” he pouted.

“I know, I missed you too but I have something to give you first,” you pulled the small leather-bound book out of the pocket of your trench coat and offered it to Bucky.

He took the book from your hand and inspected it with a look of utter confusion. “Doll isn’t this one of my books?”

“Nope, it’s new. I went out and bought it today,” you rolled your eyes at him. “Why don’t you open it?”

On the inside cover her spotted an inscription.  

To the love of my life,

From the first day I met you I knew I wanted to be in your life, whether that was as a friend, a lover or even a wife. Don’t ask me how I knew back then, maybe I didn’t, but every minute I spend with you just affirms what I know with all my heart. I can’t live without you James Barnes. I will spend every day showing you that because you are the best man I know. Today is the day you asked me to marry you and today is the day I say yes.

This book is for you to write down our memories, the ones created as husband and wife. Love always Y/N xxx

“Not factually correct anymore as you’re late,” you wiped away the tears that had slipped from your eyes.

He looked up at you, his own tears falling and his signature lopsided grin plastered to his face. “Doll, do you mean it?”

“Yes Bucky, I want to marry you. I’ve loved you for years, but reading your diaries-“ you sniffed as your emotions started to overwhelm you. “I love you, you’re –“ Your words were cut off when Bucky swept you up in his arms and swung you around, all the while peppering your face with butterfly kisses.

He finally put you down, one hand cupping your cheek and tilting your head up so that your watery eyes met his. “I love you. You’re my everything. I know I should have got on one knee and had a ring but I just couldn’t wait,” he was rambling now. “Shit, I shouldn’t have asked you by writing the question in a diary. I’m so-“

You stood up on your tiptoes and crashed you lips to his in an attempt to shut him up.

“Buck, it was perfect ok? I don’t care about a ring or a fancy proposal. I’m yours. I don’t need a piece of jewellery to know that. Plus, your way was a lot more romantic” He leaned his forehead against yours and sighed. “But, if it makes you feel better then ask me again,” you grinned.

He pulled away, placed the notebook carefully on the floor and got on one knee. “Y/N will you-“

“Yes” you blurted out. Bucky shook his head.

“You’re supposed to let me finish the question,” he chuckled. You mouthed sorry at him and pretended to zip up your lips.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Easiest question I have ever been asked. Yes, I will marry you Bucky Barnes.”

As soon as he stood again his mouth was on yours, his hands lightly gripping the side of your face keeping you close. Instinctively your hand went up to rest on his chest as you sighed into the kiss. His lips were soft, and gentle. There was no sense urgency in the way your lips moved against each other’s. There was no need. You had all the time in the world.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in or out

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​, @angrythingstarlight​, @drabblewithfranny​, @rogueheretic555,​ @rebekahdawkins​

[oopsiedoopsie23]

Overdose part 3 | Machine Gun Kelly x reader

A/N: I’M SORRY! I know, I know I literally said that this would come out a couple weeks ago but school and life in general has been up my ass and I’ve had literally no inspiration whatsoever. But on a lighter note, the support and love I’ve been receiving for this series has been amazing! This has been the first time that I’ve implemented songs into my fics and I’ll definitely be looking forward to creating more song fics in the future since y’all love them so much. Anyways, I honestly think this is pure shit but I didn’t think it was fair for y’all to wait any longer for this. Hope your eyeballs enjoy :)

Prompt: The aftermath of the reader’s overdose

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drugs, mentions of death, mentions of overdose

part 1 | part 2

And if I must go and die at 27 Then at least I know I died a legend Now, will you roll and ride like we're together? And keep the vibe alive inside forever And feel me forever

You opened your eyes slowly, the bright lights and your heavy eyelids making the task of opening your eyes nearly impossible. 

You let your eyes flutter closed once again and resided to weakly squeezing whoever’s hand was loosely gripped around your own. 

“Oh my god...Y/N?”

“Nurse! We need a nurse! She’s waking up!”

You heard scuffling around you, taking that as a sign to try to open your eyes once again, this time succeeding. 

You squint under the bright lights, looking around the room in confusion at the faces of your parents smiling widely.

“W-where’s Colson?”

They say I need to slow down, but I don't know how

You should have known something was wrong when your mom’s smile slightly faltered and your dad’s jaw clenched, but your mind was hazy and all you could think about was your ex-boyfriend.

“Don’t worry about it honey, he won’t be coming near you ever again.”

You gave a shocked look at your dad, tears immediately pooling in your eyes. 

“What do you mean? W-what are you saying? Is this some kind of joke?”

Your heart was pounding and you could faintly hear the beeping of your heart monitor begin to quicken. 

“Honey look at me, calm down please.”

“No, don’t tell me to calm down! Where is he! Mom, please! I-I need to talk to him, I need to see him!”

Nurses were now scrambling into the room, trying to say soothing words and reassurances to you but you couldn’t hear them. 

Yeah Real feelings from past dealings When people counted me out 'til I grew up to count millions, uh Like I guess it's good to be different, huh? I'm a star so the sky isn't the limit, huh?

“He’s no good for you Y/N. He’s not worth it.”

Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.

“No! You don’t know what happened! I did this! Please, just let me see him, please I need to talk to him!”

You were screaming and thrashing, dignity flying out the window as you pleaded for Colson. 

I'm living like it's my last day Smoke as if there's not already 27 roaches in the ashtray Smile as if no one hated at all As if anyone understood anytime I evolved Tell me what do you do when your dreams come true? Buy a Bentley and look just like you? How am I supposed to write a song when I'm famous And all the pain is created?

“Can’t you see what he’s done to you, Y/N?!” Your dad’s voice was booming and he was slightly held back by your mom, “He did this! He’s turned you into a drug-fuelled monster!”

“No!” 

You screamed as nurses began to hold you down to try to stop you from thrashing around.

“You overdosed, Y/N! You overdosed because of him!” 

And just as your dad spat those last words at you, the nurses stabbed a needle into your arm, quickly pressing down on the plunger.

I need to overdose on inspiration 27

You felt your vision become spotty and your eyelids becoming heavy once again. 

“Please...I-I need to see him.”

Why don't you just go home? Well, I can't right now, I'm a rolling stone

Colson ran into the hospital, skidding to a stop at the nurses station to ask for directions before being directed to a small room at the end of the hall. 

But just as he reached out for your door handle, he hears a booming voice interrupt the quiet of the hospital,

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

Colson turned around and mentally groaned at the sight of your dad.

It wasn’t like Colson hated your dad, but your dad definitely hated Colson. He always made it clear that he believed that dating Colson would only lead you back to the drug-heavy life that you had once endured. 

But was he wrong?

“I can’t go into that room to see my daughter but this fool can?”

The older man stepped closer towards Colson, shrugging your mom’s hand off of his shoulder,

“You’re the reason why she overdosed! You’re the reason why she’s in that bed! You’re the reason why she almost died!”

Colson kept his head down, knowing that if he looked into the screaming man’s eyes he would either burst into tears, punch him in the face or both, and none of those options would do him any good.

“You’ve got some fucking nerve showing up here.”

“Y/D/N, calm down.” 

Your mom gently nudged your dad away from Colson, letting the older man cool off, before turning to Colson,

“Go home Colson, now isn’t the right time to visit her.”

But before she could walk away Colson responded, 

“With all due respect Ms. L/Y/N, I would like to stay...I don’t think that any time would be the right time.”

The older woman paused, signalling that she was listening to whatever Colson had to say,

“I know that I fucked up by letting her go...sh-she was the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t realize how much I loved her until I found her laying on the floor. I know that I’ve hurt her but please...please just let me see her.”

Silence filled the small hallway.

“I’ll keep him out of her room for as long as I can.”

And if I must go, and fly away And kiss my baby girl goodnight And if this really is goodbye Then let's set the city on fire Can you take me higher? Now, can you take me higher? Can you take me higher? Can you take me higher?

Colson sat with you, placing his larger hand over yours, watching your chest move up and down, the only thing reassuring him that you were still with him. 

If I must go, die at 27 Then at least I know I died a legend Will you roll and ride like we're together? And keep the vibe alive forever Keep the vibe alive forever

“Colson?”

Colson’s head snapped up at the sound of your hoarse voice,

“Your awake! Y-your fucking awake!” 

He immediately jumped up and wrapped his arms around yours, engulfing you in a nearly suffocating hug, but both of you have wide smiles on your face.

“Um Colson I just escaped death, I don’t really want to die, now.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” 

He gently loosened his hold on you, backing away, letting the two of you properly look at the other for the first time in months. 

You attempt to break the awkward silence that had entered the room,

“You look like shit.”

Colson chuckled, “You don’t look much better.”

“Hey at least I have an excuse, what’s yours?”

You watch as his face pales and his smile falters.

Stupid. So fucking stupid.

Colson sighs and runs his hand through his hair,

“Colson, I’m sorry, I’m so stupid I shouldn’t have sai-”

“Are you using again?”

Your eyes widen as he suddenly interrupts you,

“I-I...no.”

“Y/N...look at me.”

He gently nudges your chin so that you were now looking at him in the eyes.

“I found a vial in your room with leftover cocaine in it.”

“I-I” 

You were at a loss for words, your guilt eating up your dignity and pride.

“Look it’s okay, I know that it’s been a fucking hard couple of months but I need you to be honest and tell me how long you’ve been using for.”

You looked down, breaking the steady eye contact between the two of you, choosing to instead look at your fiddling hands,

“It was only one time...this was the first time that I had used since becoming sober.”

“Y/N...”

“It’s true, Colson! I’m fucking telling the truth!”

Your voice rises and you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I-I wasn’t handling our breakup well...but I was holding on.”

“Then what changed?”

Colson’s voice was soft, easily lowering the rising tension that you had brought into the room with your outburst.

“I...I heard the song...the song you wrote about me...about us and the breakup.”

Silence filled the room once again until Colson finally responded,

“Fucking shit!”

I let these words seep through my soul And speak through the song 'Cause if one day, I'm no longer here in the physical Then at least I give you my voice to listen to

You flinch but keep your head down, not wanting to show him the uncontrollable tears that were rolling down your cheeks. 

But out of the corner of your eye you can see him, pacing around the room, muttering profanities under his breath and, looking like he was going to rip his hair out. 

Finally he stops pacing and stands at the foot of your hospital bed, 

“Y/N, please you have to believe me, I was drunk and angry and fucking pissed off at everyone and everything when I wrote that song, I didn’t even want to release it but management was up my ass about releasing new music and I had no choice and I didn’t really think of you and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

And at that moment you could see it.

You could see how desperate and scared he was. 

But he wasn’t just scared because of your reaction to the song. 

He was scared of losing you forever. 

And he almost had.

What is a beautiful life without a beautiful death? What is a beautiful mind, how is our beauty defined? Is it for you to decide, is it my duty to die?

You open your arms letting him cautiously walk into them,

“When I overdosed...I called you for a reason.”

You watched as a small smile slowly spread across Colson’s face,

“Is it because I was the one who caused all of your pain and misery?”

You scoffed and playfully rolled your eyes,

“Well you did...but also because I love you Colson Baker...always have and, always will.”

No matter how I'm remembered, just let me be remembered Kells Yeah, forever young, though, haha Always be those crazy kids running wide-eyed down the boulevard, huh 27 Bloom

@nowhereiswhereibelong @dreamlesswonder86 @mayaslifeinabox @deanwinchesterswife121 @honeymelon22 @poorlittlesuperstar @trashbonesroyale ​ @vladsgirlxx @k-a-t-h-r-y-n-sbin @1teen1dream @bolivianchickennugget @bakerkells @hotel-colson @wesleypiper @sataninsatin @lolychu

[romance-is-tragic]

You Wouldn’t Like Me When I’m Angry (Bruce Banner X Fem! Reader) Part Two

Summary: Part two of this fic. The aftermath of what happens when you see Bruce ‘Hulking Out’ for the first time. 

A/N: Humans and aliens of the sacred hellsite, I know it’s been absolutely forever since I’ve posted anything. I’ve been having some writer’s block recently and I’m thinking of getting off Tumblr for a while. Anyways, this is the second and final part of this Bruce Banner fic. The House MD Wameron fic will be out in a couple of days depending on how bad my WiFi is. Happy Reading :)

Warnings: A little angst. Nothing major. 

Danielle Steel once wrote, "we are all fools in matters of the heart." In those first agonising three months without Bruce, you realised just how true it was. Bruce left to protect you and you stayed away to protect him. In the earlier days, you left the Avengers Tower, you left New York all together. You just wanted to be free. You considered the old hope, selling your house, buying an old truck, moving to a quaint small town but in the end, you were happier with city life. You picked Washington. You found a cheap little apartment, pretty, sunny and convenient, and got a job as a primary school teacher.

 Life seemed simpler. Washington was new, you didn't know anyone and no one knew you. Our first day of work was successful, the children loved you. That was how you lived your life. Wake up, exercise, get ready for work. Teaching, lunch, more teaching, walk home, lesson planning. Dinner, reading, going to bed. There was no excitement in your life whatsoever. You planned to keep it that way. However, life didn't necessarily want you to follow that path.

 You'd caught wind of a physics conference being held in Washington, at a university not far from the school where you taught, but you didn't think much of it. Until the day of the conference itself. You were walking through the cold December snow, the school having been dismissed for winter vacation. That was when you saw him, a flash of dark hair, a purple shirt and then he was gone. Anger brimming in your eyes, you pushed him out of your mind. Too late.

 "Y/N ?" he asked, turning. You didn't, you walked on, tears slowly dripping down your cheeks. You wiped them away, doing your best to ignore his presence behind you. He jogged in front of you and placed a hand on your arm. "Y/N Y/L/N, I never thought I'd see you again," he said, smiling. "I don't want to see you again," you replied coldly.

"Y/N, I'm sorry. Look, just give me one chance to explain, give me five minutes." You sighed, trying to bottle your feelings. "Okay, five minutes," you said, directing him to a nearby park. The two of you sat side by side, letting him explain.

 "I left because I didn't want to hurt you. Not because I didn't love you. I love you Y/N, I still do. Truly. But… I didn't trust the other guy to be around you. I wanted to get him under control. I didn't think…"

"That I'd leave everything behind, run away ?" you supplied. He nodded.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Why'd you do it ?"

"Bruce you idiot, your letter. The way you wrote, it made me feel like… you didn't love me… you didn't want to be with me…" you whispered. Your tone had gone from angry to melancholy in a few short seconds. He took your hands in his. "Will you let me prove that I love you ?" Bruce asked. You nodded. He smiled and softly pressed his lips to yours. As he pulled away, you smiled back.

 Two months later, you walked and in hand as the snow started melting. "I love you," you reminded him as he dropped you off at the school. "I love you more," he grumbled, his brows creasing in frustration. "Brucie ?" you asked, gently rubbing his arm. "What's wrong ? Are you angry about something ?"

"You wouldn't like me when I'm angry," he mumbled. You smiled and kissed him.

"I totally would."

[shotgun--rider]

Daylight

 A Dean x Reader oneshot

Dean finds a letter addressed to him from Y/N, and finds a lot more in her honest words than he was expecting. 

Word count: 4100

Warnings: Brief mentions of blood, extraordinarily fluffy smut, Dean panics a lot

*Female reader, she/her pronouns used in Dean’s POV

A/N: This wouldn’t leave me alone, so here it is, and boy is it aggressively sweeter and softer than intended.

Dean tears open drawers with panicked abandon, hearing the crashing sounds of Sam doing the same to the other side of Y/N’s bedroom. There’s no time to worry about sending her research notes flying, about the haphazard pile of her underwear when he dumps her drawers on the floor. It has to be here. It has to be. 

“Dean, there’s nothing here!”

A glance over his shoulder shows Sammy’s eyes wide with the same terror that’s eating up his chest, her room looking like the aftermath of a hurricane and nothing to show for it.

“Damn it, keep looking!”

The image of Y/N doubled over the bathroom sink, choking up blood, is burned into his brain, and the knowledge that Cas is staying with her is the only thing keeping him here, instead of at her side. 

“Who the hell even got in here with a hex bag?” Sam demands, one of his arms snaking under the mattress desperately. 

“I don’t know, okay? We’ll figure it out later. After we save Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing.” Sam’s hands fly up to his hair for a moment, turning a slow circle as his eyes rake the bedroom for anything they haven’t been through yet. “Dean, there’s nothing here.”

“There has to be,” Dean retorts shortly, running his hand along the upper shelf of the closet. He flat-out refuses to consider any other option in front of Sam, but his brain isn’t getting the message. It’s entirely too easy to picture her sprawled out on the tile of the bunker bathroom, blood staining her mouth with her E/C eyes staring up at nothing. And it’s not like he’s lacking in material for inspiration, having seen her in all manner of near-dead positions on hunts before, giving him a heart attack every damn time. 

But Cas has always been there to heal her, to brush his fingers against her forehead and melt away every life-threatening wound. And this time is infinitely more terrifying, because even an angel can’t just undo witches’ spells. Dean swallows hard, turning to attack the bedside table even though Sam had already dumped out the little drawer. 

“Dean!”

Dean’s head snaps up, almost tripping over himself trying to get to the doorway. “Cas? Cas, is she--”

The angel is suddenly in front of him, holding the familiar looking small brown bag. “It was in the library,” he says simply, catching it on fire with a simple flick of his hand.  His hand lands on Dean’s shoulder, then, smiling with a gentle look in his blue eyes. “She’s fine, Dean.”

Relief first, and then the familiar ache of guilt. There wouldn’t have ever been anyone coming for her if he hadn’t been the one to let her start hunting in the first place. Wordlessly, he throws his best attempt at a smile in Cas’s direction, turning back into Y/N’s bedroom. 

“Go check on her,” he tells Sam roughly, an unidentifiable catch in his throat. Y/N certainly doesn’t need him hovering around at the end of a mess he hadn’t even managed to fix. “I’m gonna clean up.”

Sam stares at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re gonna...clean up?” he echoes. 

“What?” Dean shrugs, trying his best for an air of nonchalance. 

Sam just shakes his head, apparently giving up on his brother’s weirdness and following Cas back in the direction of the bunker’s bathroom. 

Dean clears his throat roughly, in a vain attempt to get rid of the lump that seems stuck there, and sighs. The bedroom is a complete mess, and, truthfully, cleaning it is the last thing he's interested in. Still, in the moment, it feels like a safer option than facing Y/N, so he bends forward, gathering up some of the scattered papers he’d knocked out of the closet. 

There’s a sheet of notebook paper on top of the haphazard stack when he taps it against the edge of the desk, trying to get them in some semblance of order. It’s folded in half, off-center, and would have been completely unobtrusive but for the scrawl of his name on the front, in her familiar handwriting. 

Dean pauses, setting the stack down on the desk and lifting the sheet slowly, glancing once over his shoulder out of habit before unfolding it. His face scrunches up in surprised confusion almost immediately, smoothing out into something that matches the gut-punch feeling in his chest as he continues reading. 

Dean,

I know you don’t want to hear this, but I needed to get it out of my head and put it down somewhere. I don’t know why I’m explaining this to you, anyway. It’s not like you’re going to read this. 

You break my heart, Dean Winchester. (I can hear you laughing, telling me to stop being dramatic. “It’s not a chick flick, Y/N.” Shut up.) You are strong and kind and selfless in so many ways, and you put yourself last to save everybody else and you always find some way to take the blame. But it’s not your fault, Dean. It’s not. You’re good enough, as you are, and the fact that you can’t see you the way we do breaks my heart. 

Everyone around you loves you so much, Dean--me, Sam, Cas, you’ve even grown on Meg. And you don’t have to save the world. I know experience would beg to differ, but I promise, you don’t. Not at your own expense and not by yourself, and it’s okay if the only person you can save right now is you. 

It’s okay to choose yourself. It’s okay to want someone else to choose you. And I promise you that you won’t hurt them, Dean. Seriously. You won’t. 

I hope you find something that makes you happy. And I hope I get to be there to see it. 

Love,

Y/N

Further down, the writing is  slanted and rushed, a desperate addition, an afterthought, maybe a prayer. 

Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

Let it go, Dean. There’s still daylight here, let it go. 

----

You’re in the kitchen when Dean walks in, in search of a sandwich and trying in vain to fend off Cas. “There you are,” you smile brightly at him. “I thought my closet might have swallowed you. Sam said you were cleaning up, I don’t know what possessed you to even try--” You cut yourself off, annoyance creeping onto your features as you reach up to knock Cas’s fingers away from your forehead for what has to be the fourth or fifth time. “Cas, I’m fine. But I am hungry. So move,”

The angel fixes you with a concerned look in his blue eyes. “I just want to be sure--”

“Cas,” you stare hard at him, unblinking. “Go do some research or something before you drive me crazy,” 

He leaves in a flutter of wings with an expression of mixed confusion and frustration as he vanishes, and you sigh, calling a half-sarcastic, “I love you!” to the empty room before turning your attention to Dean. 

“So, to be clear, the closet did not eat you,”

Dean’s mouth twists like he’s trying to smile but it’s gotten stuck somewhere. “Nah,” he says, his voice an octave lower than you were expecting. “Are you okay?”

You shrug, letting out a quiet victory squeak when you finally find where someone has jammed the loaf of bread, all the way in the back of the fridge. “Cas burned the hex bag, I’m good.” And to you, that’s all it is. You’ve been hunting for years; a little hex bag encounter is far from the worst that’s happened to you. And once you caught your breath and wiped the blood off of your lips, it was done. 

“I wonder if there’s a hidden health benefit to puking blood,” you muse absently, debating between mayo and mustard. “Like, they say crying is actually good for your skin, so…” 

Dean is staring at you with a pained expression, and you trail off, blinking at him. “What’s up with you?”

“You almost died, Y/N,” his voice still sounds rougher than usual. 

“Yeah.” You smile at him in a way that you hope is reassuring. “Kinda. But I didn’t. This is a typical Tuesday for us, Dean, what are you...” You let the question hang in the air, unfinished, as you study his face. “Oh, and don’t go thinking it’s somehow your fault. I know you,”

“Yeah, I...kinda got that,”

“What?” 

Dean’s hand reaches into the pocket of his jeans (which, incidentally, do amazing things for his ass) and then he’s pulling out a folded up piece of lined notebook paper and oh. Oh, damn.

His tongue slides out to wet his bottom lip nervously, and you have to make an effort not to watch like a hypnotized creep, and then he flashes you that smile that he sometimes tries on the diner waitresses. The one that says I’m trying to be confident but I’m actually awkward as all hell right now. “It, uh, had my name on it,” he says after a beat, offering it to you like he thinks you’re going to want it back.

Well, it was always for him anyway. Even if part of you wanted to shrivel up and die in embarrassment now that you knew he knew. “You can keep it, Dean. It’s for you.”

He sets it down on the table anyway, leaning one hip next to it and blinking like a deer in the headlights. “Y/N, I--”

You clear your throat. “I hope it wasn’t too awful. I don’t really remember what I wrote.” That’s kind of a lie, especially when it comes to the later two additions, but oh well. 

“No, it-it was good,” Dean’s hand twitches like he’s about to reach toward you, and he curls it into a fist instead. “When did you…”

The question trails off but you know what he’s asking. Blowing out a breath, you abandon your half-made sandwich and reach for the paper on the table instead, unfolding it and sliding closer to Dean. “I wrote this the night after the case at Sonny’s,” you tell him quietly. “I was so damn mad---you were a kid, Dean, you didn’t--” you shake your head, refocusing your thoughts. “I had all these thoughts running around my head and I knew I was going to end up screaming them all at you in the middle of the library one day if I didn’t put them somewhere. I didn’t ever expect you to actually read it.”

 You suck in a breath of surprise as Dean moves to stand behind you, one arm sliding around your waist. It’s entirely unexpected and sends a shiver at the contact running though your entire body, but somehow it feels natural. It’s as if some barrier between the two of you has broken with this letter, and you can’t find it in yourself to mind. By the time his chin finds its way to the top of your head, peeking down at the letter with you, you’ve relaxed into his hold, the solid warmth of him at your back. 

You tap the sheet of paper with one short fingernail, over the words you’d scrawled on repeat, echoing the prayer in your head. Hold on. “That’s from when we were looking for you. Demon you.” You can joke about it now, sort of, so you smirk, wishing you could see his face. “Your little summer of love with Crowley?”

Dean huffs petulantly and tightens his arms around you, and you can picture his pink lips turning into a pout. “It was not,”

“Uh huh, whatever you say,” 

Dean stays silent for a moment, absorbing the information and continuing to hang onto you, and then poses one last question. “What’s the daylight thing from?”

That one’s never going to be funny, and you exhale. “The Mark, after Charlie...you wouldn’t talk to any of us and I just wanted you to know it wasn’t all darkness, you know?”

Dean shudders on a breath behind you, and suddenly you need to see his face. He lets you turn around in his arms, now with the kitchen table against your back, and some bolder part of you slides your hands up to link behind his neck. His green eyes are shining with not-quite-tears as he looks at you, biting off words before he can start speaking. Finally, he settles on familiar ground. Teasing. “So I break your heart, huh?”

You smirk back at him. “Only when you’re stupid.”

He pouts, adorably, and you resist the urge to kiss it off of his face. “When you don’t accept that you deserve good things,” you clarify, leaning closer because Dean is like a goddamn magnet and what are you doing. “That’s just not correct.” The words are spoken a hair’s breadth from his lips, your breath ghosting over them, and Dean closes the gap a heartbeat later.

It’s a hesitant press of his lips on yours, feeling you out like he’s not entirely sure he’s going to be welcome here, and it still feels like being lit up on fire. You’re fully aware that five seconds of kissing this man has turned you into a goddamned cliche, but as you push up on your toes to kiss him back harder, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

Your enthusiasm is all the encouragement Dean needs, and you squeak against his lips as his hands find your hips to boost you up onto the tabletop, parting your legs for him to stand between them as his hand comes back up to tangle into your hair. His other slides up your thigh, thumb grazing over the inside seam of your jeans, and you shiver in spite of yourself. 

Finally breaking away to breathe, Dean moves down to press open mouthed kisses in a trail down your neck, pulling a gasp out of you. “Dean,” you murmur, your fingers raking through his short hair. “Dean,”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” The words are more a vibration against your skin than anything spoken aloud.

“I don’t--mmmh--want to be having sex on the counter when your brother walks in,”

Dean pulls back to look at you, all messy hair and blown pupils, and even though it’s what you wanted, you can’t help but already miss his touch. “Good point,” he rasps out, and before you have any time to react, slides his hands under your thighs to lift you off of the table and into his arms 

“Don’t drop me,” you manage, your ankles locking automatically around his back and your hands tight on his shoulders. “Please,”

Dean chuckles, low, and catches your mouth in a messy kiss that leaves you breathless. “Wouldn’t dare,”

Somehow, you both make it to the door with the gold 11 on it without running into any walls or any of the bunker’s other occupants, which is no small miracle, all things considered. Dean wrestles the door open with his other hand still supporting your weight, dropping you onto the mattress with a hungry look that says he’s going to claim every inch of you. 

You reach your hands out to him impatiently, wanting him closer, wanting to touch. You’re certainly not complaining about the view, but you’ve been looking at him for years. An annoyed noise comes out of your throat when he doesn’t immediately comply, instead smiling down at you with an expression that’s no less passionate, but somehow more gentle than a few moments before. 

Dean comes to sit on the edge of the bed, his hand tracing an aimless path up your ankle and calf, apparently ignoring the sizeable bulge in his own jeans. “Shh, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you to sit up and peels you out of your clothes almost reverently, discarding them across his bedroom floor until you’re left in just the plain underwear you’d put on that morning, and you can hear his breath catch when he looks at you. 

Every other guy you’d ever slept with got both of you naked like it was a speed competition, treating the whole thing as purely physical. Which you supposed it was, given that every other guy you’d slept with had been briefly vetted over the course of a few beers and then picked up out of whatever bar you were in that night. Hunter-style hookups. No strings attached.

But Dean is looking at you like you’re something otherworldly, and while you’re not sure you deserve it, it brings a warm feeling to your chest that has nothing to do with the sensation of him licking his way over your breasts and down to the line of your underwear. He pauses there, his fingertips sliding just under the waistband, and looks up at you with those reverent green eyes for permission. 

“Dean, just hurry up,” you tell him, impatience running through your voice. You’re already flushed and panting, probably looking like a complete wreck spread out over his sheets, and he hasn’t even done anything yet. 

Then suddenly his tongue is licking a stripe directly over your cunt without any warning and an involuntary cry escapes you at the sensation. So much for not scarring anyone else in the bunker, you think wryly, and then all rational thought flees your brain as Dean slides a finger inside you, busying his tongue with rapid little flicks over your clit. “Oh god, Dean, fuck,” 

Your hand flies down to clutch at his head as he slides a second finger in to join the first, just enough sense left to remind yourself not to mindlessly suffocate him against your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming and still somehow not enough, keeping you right on the edge without sending you over, and underneath it all there’s still an undercurrent of gentleness that takes your breath away in a whole other way. “I can’t--please, I--” you pant out, no longer sure if you’re even making sense. 

Dean hums softly, the vibration running through you, and your hips buck up involuntarily in search of more friction. His mouth moves to suck your clit between his lips, his fingers curling inside you at the same time, and you fly apart with a shout, your head falling back and your entire body tensing through what has to be the best orgasm you’ve ever had. Not that you’re going to tell him that.

“Jesus, Dean,” you breathe out when you can see straight again. “Just...Jesus.” 

Dean chuckles softly, his lips and chin still glistening with your wetness, and he seems perfectly content in spite of narrowly surviving being squeezed to death between your thighs. A few more of your brain cells come back online, and suddenly you’re staring at him in puzzlement. “Why are you still dressed?”

He takes that as his cue to climb off of the bed and strip, and all of those damn layers end up making it a teasing show for you even if that wasn’t his goal. Dean shrugs out of the flannel first, then strips off the shirt underneath and unbuckles his belt. By the time he’s left standing in just his boxers, you’re unashamedly two seconds from drooling and he’s painfully too far away from you. 

Dean drops the boxers before coming back to kneel over you, his cock rock hard against his stomach. You’d never thought about a man’s junk as “beautiful” before, but it’s the word that comes to mind as you reach out to wrap your hand around him, thumb swiping over the tip and watching him shudder in response. Instead of letting you continue, though, he pulls your hand away, lacing his fingers in both of yours and resting your linked hands above your head as he leans forward to kiss you. 

It’s sweet, unexpected but perfect, and when he finally slides inside you, leaving you both gasping at the feeling, it seems dangerously close to making love. Dean gives you a moment to adjust to the size of him filling you up, only moving after your hips have rocked up into him, urging him on. 

Somehow you’d thought that being carried through the bunker, all tangled tongues and occasionally teeth, had set the stage for something wild. Or maybe that was just you projecting your assumptions of what Dean would be like in bed. And you had no doubt he could be, but this was...soft. Slow, no matter how much you tried to urge him faster, and you lost yourself in the slide of his cock, the rhythm of his body against you, the feeling of his hands holding onto yours.

He was watching you with an expression that was half lust and half love, the slow roll of his hips hitting just right inside you, and a low groan rips out of his throat when you tighten your walls around him. “Come for me, baby,”

Dean releases one of your hands to slip between your bodies, his thumb flicking over your clit in time with a sharper snap of his hips, and it shatters you. The slow build has you flying apart screaming, clinging to Dean like he’s the only thing left holding you together as your orgasm breaks over you in waves. 

He follows you over the edge a few moments later, falling forward to press his lips to yours with an expression of pure, blissed-out pleasure on his face. For a while, neither of you move, lost in the moment and not quite capable of higher brain function. 

Eventually, Dean pulls back to look at you with a goofy grin on his lips, pulling a startled laugh out of you at the expression, and you clean up and rearrange yourselves smiling like a pair of fools, which, you suppose, you kind of are. 

Afterward, you lay curled into Dean’s side, legs tangled together and your hand resting over his heart and his anti-possession tattoo while his fingertips trace random patterns over your hip. He’s the first one to break the silence, tilting his head to look at you with warm green eyes. He’s close enough that you could probably count the freckles dashed across his face, but he’s distracting you with words instead. “You make me happy,” he says, voice low, and you’re suddenly reminded of the last wish you wrote in that letter.

“Good,” you say stoutly, warmth ballooning in your chest at the words. Dean already looks awkward and slightly red at the little confession, though, and you’re not going to drag more emotions out of him. You lean up briefly, planting a quick little peck on his lips, and snuggle back down against him, just existing in your own little world for a brief, precious moment. 

----

Dean wakes up alone. Instinctive panic is choking him as he scrambles up, his still half-asleep mind wondering automatically if she’s safe, if something has gotten to her. 

Closer inspection of his bedroom floor would have shown him that wherever she was, she was wandering around without any of her clothes, and thus probably hadn’t gotten that far, but Dean doesn’t bother thinking that through. He shoves his legs into a pair of sweats that are slung over the back of the desk chair, almost falling flat in his rush, and bursts out into the hallway. 

His green eyes are wild and his hair is still styled with the aftermath of sex and sleep, and Sam’s startled reaction to seeing him tear his way into the war room shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

“Morning,” Sam says dryly, looking over his brother from head to toe. “Dean--what?”

“Have you seen Y/N?” Dean gets out through the panic that’s suddenly thick in his chest. 

“She’s outside,” Sam gestures up the bunker stairs to the door, shrugging in a way that suggests that all of this is completely casual. “Dude, what--”

Dean’s already gone, up the bunker stairs and out the door still shirtless and barefoot, and there she is. All of the knots in his stomach are washed away in an instant, looking at her on the bunker’s concrete front step. She’s safe. She’s okay. 

She’s just wearing his flannel, the material drowning her hands and falling to her thighs, and she’s barefoot too. She turns at the sound of him opening the door, coffee mug in hand, and her eyes light up when they land on him. “Look, Dean,” she says with a sunny smile, and he can breathe again. Y/N tilts her head to the sky, hair stirring in the breeze against her borrowed flannel collar, and she’s looking at the peach and purple sunrise painting the sky when she speaks. “Daylight.”

He’s looking at her.