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mermaidgirl30 · 8 months ago

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✨Enchant Me Chapter 1: I Was Enchanted to Meet You✨

Series Masterlist

A/N: I want to thank that purple house for giving me this whole idea in the first place, but reader and Joel are so soft in this series I’m crying 🥹 Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for listen to me babble my ideas and rant about how cute these two are in this series! We don’t have enough witchy, nature reader Joel fics, so thought I should make one ☺️✨🌙 Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, I always love hearing your feedback! 💜

Summary: Joel delivers a custom built table to a little house out in the middle of the woods, but he doesn’t realize he’s going to fall for the girl behind the doors of that small purple house. He falls head over heels for her special herbal tea, tarot card readings, and talks of nature and plants as he keeps going back to see her.

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader (Fic is in both reader and Joel’s POV)

Word Count: 7.7k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Soft Joel, lots of fluff, Joel falling in love, witchy reader, eventual smut in later chapters, plant and animal lover reader, lots of cute nicknames for reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

“My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again. These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon. I was enchanted to meet you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you. Please don't be in love with someone else. Please don't have somebody waiting on you.”

- Taylor Swift “Enchanted”

The spring breeze of April rustles through Austin as green leaves blow gently down the street, light streaks of sunlight glistening in the open shop as Joel finishes the final touches on a lilac handmade wooden side table. Tiny, intricate white flowers he’d hand painted cover the lilac material. Joel had no idea who he was making it for, he only saw the order request in the computer on his list of custom orders. Tommy must’ve talked to that particular customer when Joel was in the back crafting something.

As Joel finishes the final touches on polishing the little table, he yells for Tommy to come over. “Hey, Tommy. Who’s this order for? I just got finished, guess I can go ahead and deliver it today since we aren’t too busy,” he says as he stands up with a huff, placing a hand on his lower back as he gets up from the rough ground.

“Ahh, that one is for this sweet girl that came in a couple weeks ago. Kinda shy, quiet, but sweet as pie. Pretty thing, too. She sure talked a lot about nature,” Tommy laughs as he grabs the thick white notebook and gets your contact information out, handing Joel the address and name of the customer who had bought it.

Joel looks at it carefully as his eyes scan the address. “She lives out in the middle of nowhere,” Joel says as his eyebrows knit together.

“Yeah, all the way in Cedar Lake. Not too far, but that’s definitely not in the city. It’s only twenty minutes from here though. So, you want me to take it? I don’t mind,” Tommy replies as he leans to grab the notebook. Joel brings it out of his reach and clutches it to his chest.

“Nah, I’m the one that made it so I’ll be the one delivering it.”

“Suit yourself,” Tommy scoffs as he holds his hands up. “Tell her I said hello, will ya?”

“Sure,” Joel says as he grabs the paper with your name and address on it and shoves it down in the denim pocket of his dark jeans. He rolls his blue flannel sleeves up to his elbows and exposes tanned skin as he grabs up the table and loads it in the back of his white Chevy truck.

Once he’s inside and has the engine revved up, he pulls away from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and heads down the street, toward the direction of a long, gravel road that will take him to your place.

Cedar and oak trees fill the last half of the drive while deer scurry off from grazing in the grass as soon as they see Joel’s truck. The houses get thinner in this area, only one or two spread out with acres of land behind them. Joel keeps driving through the thick of the green, eyes trained on the narrow road ahead of him.

“Now who lives all the way out here?” Joel asks himself as his GPS stops him right as he pulls up to a single house that’s surrounded entirely by the woods.

He puts his truck into park and turns off the engine, grabbing his keys and shoving them in his pocket. Just as he steps outside into the grass, a wild rabbit runs off into the opposite direction of him and a black raven caws and flies off into a tall cedar tree.

Whoever lives here must like animals a lot.

Joel carefully retrieves the furniture from the bed of his truck and grunts his way to the front door, making his way up the few wooden steps that lead him to the front door. When he sets the side table on the wooden porch, he takes in the outside of the house.

The house is painted a deep purple color with yellow wooden rails outlining the edge of the porch. All types of different floral plants of names he doesn’t know lines each side of the cobbled stone path that leads to the front of the house. Colorful stained glass windows are sprawled on the top windows as the bottom windows sit wide open for the warm breeze to seep into. It’s unique, a house like he’s never quite seen before. Now he needs to know who lives way out here in the middle of nowhere in a little purple house that’s stacked with plants.

He knocks on the sturdy purple door three times and stands back while he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans, fidgeting with his fingers as he patiently waits. Before long, he hears the creak of the door opening and looks up to say his greeting.

“Hi, I’m from Miller’s Woodshop Creations and I came to…”

He stops when he takes in the sights of you as you open the door wide, stepping out onto the porch in a lilac colored sundress that goes down to the middle of your thighs, exposing long legs as the bodice hugs your hips perfectly. He gasps at the beautiful shades of your eyes. He’s never seen such beautiful eyes before, a color that reminds him of warm summer days and clover covered fields. Your hair is in soft curls, held back by a pink ribbon as you flash him a smile that can knock him down to his knees. He thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. The most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Oh! My little table I ordered. I had no idea it was finished! Let me see it,” you say excitedly as he steps out of the way and lets you bend over to analyze the table.

You rake your fingers over the smooth, polished wood and carefully trace the edges of the hand painted white flowers that cover the surface of the table. It’s so beautiful, exactly what you were looking for when you placed the order. You were afraid they wouldn’t see the vision you were going for, but this was exactly what you wanted. It was perfect.

“This is incredible! Exactly what I pictured it to be. Who made this?” you ask incredibly as you hover over the top of the smooth wood.

“I did,” he says nervously behind you.

You drop your hands and push yourself off the porch, turning to take in the man who made this himself. “You made this?” you ask quietly.

“Mhm. Just finished it up today,” he answers, his eyes locking on yours as he nods his head up and down slowly.

“Oh, well it’s exactly what I wanted! It’s gorgeous, thank you.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” he says with a Southern accent that stops you in your tracks.

Sweetheart. You like the sound of that a lot.

“And you are?” you ask with a raised eyebrow, curiosity swirling in your eyes at the handsome gentleman who stands in front of you.

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He holds his arm out, waiting for you to take his hand patiently, his eyes flicking over yours carefully. You slowly place your hand in his and shake.

You almost gasp when you feel his calloused fingers close over yours. He feels like magic, like shooting sparks are flying in his soft brown eyes as he holds your hand in his. You’ve never had this reaction shaking a man’s hand before. This feels… different. The magic dies as soon as he drops his hand, and you almost reach for his hand again just to feel that buzzing sensation through your body that was there when his hand was in yours.

“Miller. Is Tommy Miller your brother?” you ask with a curious smile.

“Yes, ma’am. He helps me run the shop.”

“Oh, I see. Well, Joel, I’m glad it was you that brought this by for me today,” you smile gently, fluttering your long eyelashes up at him as he blushes and pushes a hand through his tousled curls nervously. You think he’s absolutely beautiful.

“It was no trouble. And your name? I didn’t catch your name, darlin’.”

Darlin’. There he goes again with the little nicknames. You wish he’d never stop. He could just keep going. He could call you anything he wanted to, and you’d let him. As long as he came back here again.

You tell him your name, and he repeats it like honey dripping off the tip of his tongue. It sounds beautiful the way he says it. Like sweet tea that simmers in your soul. It sounds all lilty and dreamy, and you decide then that you do want to see him again.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says softly as his lips curl up into a dreamy smile that almost takes your breath away.

“Oh, uh - thank you,” you smile in return.

You take in his full features now. See the way his eyes shine like caramel in the warm sun that glazes over them, see the dark brown flecks mix with warmer colors to make the prettiest soft brown eyes you’ve ever seen in your life. His skin is tan like gold, his broad shoulders filling out the blue button-up flannel shirt that presses firmly to his strong chest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows as they expose thick veins that cascade down his arms to end in big, thick hands. Hands you’d like to hold on more than one occasion.

And his smile. God, his smile sends your insides spiraling. He’s so fucking beautiful, and you hope he’ll stay for tea. Maybe, just maybe he’ll want to try your famous hibiscus herbal tea.

Please, stay.

“Here, let me put this inside for you. It’s a little heavy, so don’t want you to try to lift it,” he says adamantly as he bends over and scoops up the little side table in his arms.

You open the door wide for him and watch him walk through the entrance as you point to your cream colored couch that sits up against the soft pastel purple colored walls. “Just right next to the couch will be fine, thank you,” you say as you watch his biceps cling to his flannel shirt, watching the way his back muscles pull against his shirt to expose thick muscles that you’d kill to run your fingers down.

He’s so gorgeous.

When he sets down the table on the dark wooden floor, he takes in your little living space. He examines your white shelf that holds purple orchids, different colored carnations, and potted hanging plants whose vines spill over the edges fluidly.

Next, he notices the windowsill that has amethyst and pink quartz crystals lined against the edge as a stack of flower tarot cards lay against the crystals. He takes in the bright colors of your kitchen as the sunlight beams through the open windows as robins chirp their melodious songs outside the window. Lavender and white tulips encase the edges of the light colored wooden countertop as it overflows with various herbs that stack neatly together.

The air smells dewy-fresh as the aroma of flowers and tea fill the air. You watch Joel take in his surroundings carefully and see his lips part open just slightly as he spins in a slow circle. You lean against the wooden countertop and rest your chin in the palm of your hand as you watch him dreamily. He’s just so handsome, so intriguing, so curious.

As he turns back your direction, you straighten up and try to act normal, but it’s so hard around him. So very hard. “You uh, you sure like flowers don’t ya?” he asks as you blush from the question.

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask nervously as he comes over and leans against the opposite side of the counter, staring up into your eyes as he gently smiles.

“No, s’not a bad thing. Just I haven’t seen a house quite like yours before. It’s very… unique what you’ve done to the place,” he says as his eyes skate across your lit up kitchen.

“Well, I’m a unique person,” you giggle out, letting the single pearl necklace bounce along your tan chest.

“I can see that,” he smiles as his eyes skate down your lilac sundress, gulping when you see him rake his eyes over your full breasts and down your curvy hips and smooth thighs. You suck in a breath when his warm eyes land back on yours as you watch the sunlight trickle warm golden colors against his gentle brown eyes.

He’s so fucking beautiful.

“Purple your favorite color?” he asks as he examines the soft colored walls in your kitchen.

“How could you tell?” you ask as a soft giggle echoes around the small living space.

“I’m good at observations,” he says with a smirk that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

Oh, this one is gonna be a tease. You just know it.

“You live out here alone?” he asks as he walks around the counter, dragging his finger along the wooden edges as he stares at the purple orchids that lay across your wide open kitchen window.

“Yeah, it’s just me and my flowers. Also, my cat, Oliver. He’s probably outside hunting mice or something,” you laugh.

“Ahh. I see.”

You watch the way he furrows his eyebrows at the flowers, looking at them as if he’s trying to figure out what they are. Somehow you think he doesn’t know a lot about plants. Maybe you could teach him.

“Orchids,” you say as you walk up next to him, laying your hand on the wooden counter as you place your eyes on the vibrant deep purple colors of the flowers.

“Huh?” he asks as turns around and faces you.

“These are orchids.” You nod your head to the lush flowers, and an understanding grunt comes from deep within his chest.

“Oh, I see. They’re pretty,” he says as he drops his hand back to the counter. His pinky finger drags along the side of yours, and you feel hot fire run through your fingertips.

You drop your hand and watch him take a step back, eyes melding into yours as the sunlight bursts through his brown irises. You can’t help but to fall for him right then. This man was going to make you pull out the tarot cards, see if love was in your near future. With him.

He shifts his weight and leans into the edge of the counter, contemplating his next actions. “Well, I guess I shouldn’t take up anymore of your time. It was nice to meet you,” he says as he starts to walk toward the front door.

You freeze, almost choke up as the words run dry in your throat. “Wait!” It comes off desperate, loud, and you think you just ruined your chances with him. He turns back around with his eyebrows raised, maybe even alarmed that you almost screamed at him.

“Tea? Do you like tea?” you ask, desperate for him to stay a little longer. You want him, need him to stay just a few more minutes. You want to get to know this man, maybe want to give him a tarot reading, if he wanted one.

“Tea? ‘Course I do. Why do you ask?” He knits his eyebrows together as if he’s concentrating a little too hard on you, and you gulp at the sight of those gorgeous flecks of brown staring back at you.

“Will you stay for tea? I just picked some fresh herbs from the garden, and it’s the least I can do for having you deliver my furniture for me. Please,” you say as you nod to your cream colored couch, asking him to sit while you prepare the tea.

He flicks his eyes over the smooth material of the couch and back at you as his eyes blaze into yours. “Sure, darlin’. I’d love to,” he says as he moves to the couch and sits down gently as his body presses against the soft material. You have to avert your eyes from his large thighs that pull against the dark material of his jeans.

He’s so fucking broad and muscular. He was going to get you into trouble if you were already practically drooling at his Southern charm and good looks.

You smile and get to work chopping up lavender and rosemary herbs as you mix them together with elderberries and hibiscus flowers while you pour almond milk and a dash of water together. Everyone loves your herbal teas, you just hoped Joel would, too.

“So, is this one of your specialities or somethin’? You sure do have a lot of herbs and teacups around,” he says as he assesses your china cabinet full of floral tea cups and fine china that you’ve been collecting for years. Call it a hobby or an addiction, but you’ve been making tea for as long as you can remember. That’s why you have your own tea shop just a few miles down the road. A business you’ve loved every since you got to open your little shop a few years ago.

“Something like that,” you giggle as you continue mixing the various ingredients together in a large glass pitcher. “I actually own my own little tea shop a few miles down the road. It’s called Starlight’s Corner.”

“Starlight’s Corner, huh? Strange, I’ve never heard of it. Where is it located?” he asks as he leans his elbows against his knees and places his hands under his chin, eyes focused on you. You try not to blush as he watches you mix together the tea, but you fail to no avail.

“It’s just off Fourth Street, right next to a little boutique. You can’t miss it.”

“Wait, that’s not too far from my shop. I guess I’ll have to come check it out sometime,” he says with a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Yeah, guess you should.”

After mixing the ingredients together and throwing a dash of sugar in there, you pour two glasses of the floral sweet smelling tea and walk over to him slowly. You hand him a glass and when he takes it your fingers brush up against his, causing you to jolt your hand back as purple liquid splashes over the side of the cup and lands on top of Joel’s denim covered thigh.

You gasp and set your own drink down on the glass coffee table as you run to grab a towel from the kitchen. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that, really I’m so sorry,” you apologize hurriedly as you go back over and hand him the dark hand towel, your face beat red with embarrassment as you say sorry another five times.

“Darlin’, relax. It’s alright. It’s just a little spill. Nothing I can’t handle,” he says as he hushes you, circling his hand over your wrist as all worries seem to vanish at his soft touch.

Your breathing calms as you relax your shoulders, his fingers still pressed firmly around your wrist as you feel every single callous that covers his thick fingers. It’s soothing, relaxing, mind numbing as he stares up at you with those warm brown eyes of his, his chest rising and falling calmly as his other hand presses the towel to his damp thigh. And suddenly it’s like you’re in the middle of your lush garden outside, smelling the sweet scents of wildflowers and fresh air as you breathe in his mahogany scent. He smells like fresh wood and pine trees, a scent you could get completely lost in, drown in.

He suddenly drops his fingers from your skin, and it’s like you wake up from a trance. You want him to touch you again, you want to feel the flames that ignite your skin every time he traces his calloused fingers along your soft, silky skin. You want to know what he tastes like, what he sounds like if your lips ever pressed up against his soft, plush lips.

You shake your head out of your lovesick daze and grab your glass of tea as you go around to the other side of the couch and sit down next to him, just inches from your thigh meeting his. You watch him towel off the damp spot on his thigh, rubbing the material harshly as he calls it good and sits the now damp towel on the coffee table.

“Joel, again, I’m so sorry. Let me…”

He holds his large hand out and silences you as your voice stops cold. “Sweetheart, ya gotta stop aplogizin’. Really, it’s fine,” he presses as he goes to grab the half filled glass of tea. He grips it in his large hand and brings it close to his plush lips.

“I hope you like sweet tea,” you say before he takes a sip, hopeful that he won’t hate it.

“If it’s as sweet as you, I’m sure I’ll love it,” he smiles.

Your cheeks flush crimson as you take in the compliment and watch him bring the rim of his glass up to his lips, throwing back his head as you watch the hibiscus tea run slowly down his throat. You watch the way the liquid pulls at his lips, watch the way the veins in his neck bulge and flex as he drinks it down. You can’t help but lick your parched lips as you watch him gulp the liquid down. You wonder what it’d feel like to hang on his lips like that, wonder how it’d taste to run your tongue along his soft, inviting lips.

He tilts his head back up and sets the now almost empty glass back on the table as he licks his lips and smiles sweetly over at you. “Darlin’, how did I not know you had a tea shop so close to my store? This is the best tea I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he muses as you smile over at him in wonder.

“Really? You really liked it that much?” you ask with wide eyes glazing over his big brown eyes that you want to get lost in.

“Mhm. I mean it when I say that was the best glass of tea I’ve ever had,” he says as he nods his head. “Especially when it’s from a gorgeous girl like yourself,” he blushes.

Gorgeous? Oh. He called you gorgeous.

“Oh, stop,” you laugh as you stand and grab his glass up. “You want some more? I have plenty.”

“Absolutely,” he nods.

You pad your bare feet into the kitchen and find Oliver sitting at the edge of the window. His large green eyes hover over at Joel and his calico markings dance in the sunlight as he creeps into the kitchen and slowly makes his way over to Joel, inspecting the newcomer in his house.

“This must be Oliver?” Joel asks as he bends over and pets Oliver as he rubs against Joel’s leg. You giggle to yourself as that’s a sign Oliver likes someone. Looks like Joel is now welcome in his humble abode after all.

“Yep, that’s sweet Oliver. I think he likes you,” you giggle as you watch him scratch the clean fur on his back, hearing Oliver’s loud purrs echo into the open kitchen.

“Looks like it,” he chuckles out. The sound is so warm, inviting as it reverberates through his chest. It’s a sound you’d like to hear around here more often, a sound you could get used to fast.

“You have any pets, Joel?” you ask as you pour more delicious liquid into his glass and saunter back over to him, setting it on the table as to not spill anymore tea on him.

“Can’t say that I do. Never really was a cat person, but for some reason this one seems to like me,” he says as Oliver rubs up against his leg and jumps up into your lap the moment you sit down.

“Hmm, guess he has a good sense of judgement,” you wink at him, watching him nervously run a hand through his tousled dark curls. You want to run your hands through his curls, down his patchy beard that’s sprinkled with salt and pepper grey. He looks to be in his mid forties, an older man who you’d love to get to know better.

“How ummm, how old are you, sweetheart?” he asks as he drags his thick fingers through his patchy scruff, ending at his chin as he drops his hand gently back to his lap.

“Twenty-nine. And yourself?” you ask as you cock an eyebrow up at him.

“Forty-three,” he answers nervously as if to await a harsh judgement his way. You have no issue with an older man though. You wouldn’t even mind if he was your same age, you just wanted to know him. You were intrigued by his charm and creative hands.

“Forty-three, huh?” you ask as your eyes flick up and down him, memorizing his lean jaw and the way his fingers lightly flex in his lap when he has his eyes fixed on you. You were starting to read him well. He was nervous, maybe a little shy around the edges, but you definitely saw that he was nervous about his age. He shouldn’t be.

“Yeah, I’m an old man,” he jokes as his cheeks turn slightly pink from nerves.

“Nah, you’re definitely not old,” you confirm. “If you were old, you wouldn’t have been able to carry that table in for me,” you smile.

“Forty-three ain’t too old for ya?” he teases, but his eyes focus intently on you, needing to know he had a chance. And he definitely had a chance.

“No, it’s the perfect age,” you smile shyly.

He laughs and shakes his head, making a stray curl fall against his forehead. Without even thinking, you take your hand and push it back out of his eyes and feel just how silky smooth his hair really is.

His lips part open as you realize just how close to his face you are now, just a couple inches from his plush lips that probably taste of velvet. Your heart speeds up as you stare into his beautiful eyes, seeing every single golden brown fleck that glistens like galaxies in his eyes. You feel your hand drop to his chest, feel him lean forward as you inhale that woodsy scent that draws you to him. You’re so close, so close to a taste of heaven you so desperately want to reach.

When you realize just what you’re doing, you push back from him and put some distance in between the two of you as you catch your breath and come back down to reality. You almost kissed him. Why the fuck did you stop? You take a large drink of your tea and let the floral flavors float down your throat, hoping it’ll cool off your flushed cheeks as you feel fire burn through your core.

Get a hold of yourself. You just met this man.

Joel clears his throat and shifts his weight on the couch, grabbing his glass as he takes another generous gulp of the purple tea. Oliver sits across the room now and stares in between the two of you, meowing as even he feels the connection in the quiet room.

Joel clears the air as the heated moment disappears for the time being. “So, you’re a flower girl, huh?” he asks as his eyes gaze around the room at all your colorful hanging pots of flowers and plants that line the walls.

“How could you tell?” you ask with a flirtatious gleam in your smile.

“Oh, you know. Lucky guess,” he smirks as you feel your insides coat with warmth.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you giggle. “I have an entire garden out in the backyard, too. Actually, more like an enchanted forest, but you know. You’d have to see it to believe it.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna show it to me?” he asks as a smile curls against his lips, making a dimple appear that nearly brings you to your knees. He’s so pretty that it hurts.

“If you want me to,” you say through long lashes that fan out for him.

He chuckles lightly and nods. “C’mon then. Show me,” he says as he stands and reaches for your hand. You’re hesitant at first, but he keeps it extended and nods down at his hand. “C’mon, sweetheart. I know you want to show me.” That’s all the encouragement you need.

You take his hand as he helps you up, feeling his calloused fingers close around yours as he pulls you off the velvety surface. He keeps his hand latched around yours until you make it to the back door, feeling a sigh escape your lips as his warmth leaves your hand the moment he drops his fingers from yours. His hand in yours felt so good, it felt right.

You slide on a pair or sandals and lead him down your back porch, past the flowing stone fountain where birds are sitting getting drinks and ruffling their feathers as they bathe in the cool water. You lead him down a winding stone path and watch as he follows close behind.

You trail your fingers on some tall standing cedar trees and push past a small field of sunflowers, watching as the golden finches hang on the flower stems and feed on the seeds. You look behind you and see Joel looking all around him as he takes in the sights of crowded red rose bushes and white tulips that sit side by side as their colors paint each other crimson and white.

“Where are you taking me?” he laughs as he follows close behind.

“You’ll see,” you smile back at him as you grab ahold of his wrist and whisk him to the left, nearing your favorite spot in the place you call your enchanted forest.

As you round a small corner and go through a vine wrapped awning, you pull him into the middle of a large circular field that has rows and rows of different colored wildflowers that scatter across the entire field. Beds of strawberries, grape vines, and all types of various herbs have their own raised beds. Lavender, white lilies, purple irises, and different types of carnations display every which was as the sound of the rushing stream that sits behind a forest of trees carries through the wind. This is home to you.

You spin around and find Joel looking dazed as he takes in his surroundings. He runs his large hands across the growing lavender as he lets his fingers dwindle on the green stems, looking carefully over everything that sits in front of him. He looks to be in awe.

“Welcome to my little place I call my enchanted forest,” you say as you continue staring at him as he slowly turns your direction, releasing his fingers from the lavender that sways slowly in the spring air.

“Did you grow all this?” he asks with wide eyes as you see a Monarch butterfly land softly on the side of his sleeve.

“I did. Took me a little over a year to get everything going, but I think it turned out nicely.”

You walk over in front of him and hold your finger out to the butterfly, watching it come to you as it crawls over your index finger, letting you hold it carefully in your hand as you smile and say hello to the beautiful butterfly.

“Beautiful creatures, aren’t they?” you smile, watching it flap its bright orange wings as it flies off in the direction of some pink wildflowers.

You turn slowly to Joel, and he’s just standing there staring at you as if he’s stuck in a trance. His golden brown eyes gaze into yours as his lips part just the slightest. “Yeah, they are,” he says quietly. But he’s not looking at the butterfly anymore, he’s looking at you. You feel your cheeks burn hot at the way he’s looking at you. He makes you feel so nervous yet so beautiful at the same time. It’s strange, really. Nothing you’ve experienced before.

“Did you know they’re the state insect of Texas?” you say proudly as you pick up a fallen lavender rose off the ground.

“No, I didn’t know that. Fascinating,” he says awestruck, his voice quiet again as his eyes never waver from yours.

You twirl the purple rose in your hand and smile down at it as your fingers brush over the soft, velvety petals. Lavender roses mean enchantment, wonder, and love at first sight. You can’t help but giggle to yourself as you walk over to Joel and slip the rose inside the pocket on his blue flannel shirt, accentuating his look as he looks down and runs his finger over the flower.

“You know, all roses have different meanings, depending on their color,” you say as you rock on your heels, your hands behind your back as you play with your fingers nervously.

“Oh, what’s this color mean?” he asks as he runs another finger over the soft petals.

“It means enchantment, wonder, and admiration,” you smile, leaving the love at first sight out as you feel the sun warm your rosy cheeks.

His eyes look up into yours as a small smile curls against his lips, his eyes lighting up like warm honey that you want to drown in. “Enchantment, is that right?” he asks as he takes a step closer to you, his leather boots meeting the edge of your open sandals as you suck in a breath.

“That’s right,” you say quietly, eyes never leaving his warm colored irises.

“Well, you sure enchanted me, sweetheart,” he smiles, his eyes staring straight into yours as you feel warmth overwhelm all your senses.

You enchanted him.

You break his gaze and look down shyly, unable to say anything to that sentence except just to blush and turn around so he doesn’t see the ridiculous smile that’s covering your face. Turns out he enchanted you, too.

“Come here, I want to show you something else,” you say as you lead him over to the large white trellis walls where blackberry vines trail along the ladder. You fill your hands with the deep colored blackberries and tell Joel to follow your lead.

He looks at you with knitted eyebrows as you tell him to be quiet and watch his step. You take him to the edge of the woods where the trees are thick and tall, a sea of green sprawled out in front of you as you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth, calling to the family of deer that usually greet you every evening.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” he asks quietly as he leans up against the smooth bark of a tall cedar tree.

“Why don’t you take a look?” you smile as you nod your head in the direction of the woods. He straightens up as he watches the pack of deer walk cautiously out into the open as they gather around and greet you.

“Hey there, guys. You hungry?” you ask as you hold your hand out for them to come up to. They come all at once, their reddish-brown coats glistening in the sun as their long legs patter lightly against the green grass. Their wet noses kiss your skin as they eat the berries slowly out of the palm of your hand. You giggle as their wet noses tickle your skin.

Joel stares in wonder, his eyes focused on you as you laugh and smile as each of the deer take berries from your hand. He watches how happy you are as you reach out your open palm and stroke gently over their backs, amazed that wild deer allow you to touch them.

He watches how your eyes light up each time one of the females rub their head gently against the middle of your arm, watches the way you interact and speak to them as if they’re human themselves.

He’s smitten with your smile. That damn beautiful smile that takes the breath from his lungs. And God, he thinks he’s falling in love. He’s never seen someone quite like you before. You’re so soft, so gentle. Almost as if you’re a delicate rose yourself.

You catch him watching you with the daze of his warm eyes, a soft smile etching the corner of his mouth as he stares at you. It’s like he’s in a trance, and it makes you tingle with pure delight inside.

“Joel, come here,” you instruct as you nod your head and call him over.

“Oh, no I couldn’t,” he says timidly as he leans harder against the tree. You’re not letting him get off that easily.

“Joel, please. Just give me your hand.” You reach for him and take his hand in yours, leading him over carefully to the family of deer. He doesn’t pull his hand away, he just keeps his fingers tightly closed over yours.

“Here, wanna feed them?” you ask as you scatter some blackberries in his calloused hands. He slightly hesitates at first, but then he eases up as he holds his hand out and lets one of the females eat out of the palm of his hand. You watch him carefully as his face relaxes, his shoulders lowering as his hand lays flat with the berries inside them. Another deer comes over and starts grazing out of his hand, and you swear you see a little twinkle in his brown eyes.

“I think they like you,” you giggle, watching the way they crowd around him just like they do with you.

“I’ve never fed wild deer before. It’s… well, it’s…”

“Amazing.” You finish his sentence for him as he nods his head up and down.

“Exactly that,” he replies.

When the blackberries are gone, you gently take his hand in yours and reach his arm out, showing him how to pet them the right way so they’ll remember him and want to come back later. You keep your hand on top of his and guide it along the soft fur as one of the females lets you stroke the top of her head. You drop your hand from Joel’s and watch him still trail his hand up and down the deer’s side, seeing the way a soft smile spreads across his face.

“There you go. You’re a natural,” you beam as his honey eyes meet yours, sending a wave of bliss down your entire body.

He just shakes his head and chuckles out a deep laugh. “I swear, it’s like you’re Snow White. You’re really somethin’ special, aren’t ya?” he asks as his eyes sink into the pits of your soul.

Special. He thinks you’re special.

“Thank you for thinking that,” you giggle shyly. “I just know how to get in touch with nature. It’s one of my favorite places to be,” you say with a sing-song voice as you tilt your head and take in the splashes of warm sun against your skin.

Joel just watches dreamily as you close your eyes and take in the sun. He thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, knows just how special you are. He thinks he knew the moment he laid his eyes on you.

When all the deer have left, you give him a tour of your grand garden, telling him all about your favorite flowers and take him down to the edge of the stream as little minnows swim around the middle of the clear water. When you start to lead him back to the house, he starts up light conversation again.

“You really are an expert on nature, aren’t ya? Anything from flowers to planting herbs to animals. You’re really quite somethin’,” he says mesmerized as he stops on the edge of the porch and lingers his hand next to yours, grazing his thumb lightly against the back of your hand as you feel the sparks light up like a million fireworks going off at once. It’s warm, feels safe, makes you feel alive as you trail your pinky finger against his. You want to dance in the flames, let the orange sparks ignite your soul as they take you down to devour you whole.

“You think so?” you smile, watching his honey glazed eyes trail over yours.

“Mhm. Just like a little garden fairy,” he teases as he traces his calloused fingers down your jawline slowly. “Gonna have to teach me more, enchantress,” he whispers as his fingers drop from your jawline, your face burning with desire as you beg to be touched by him again.

Enchantress. The word echoes through your mind as his Southern drawl crashes through your ears. Enchantress, you repeat back to yourself. He’s so sweet, just like the honey that swims in his captivating eyes.

“I’d like that,” you swallow as nerves build in your chest.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens up a blank contact page on the lit up screen, handing it to you so you can type in your phone number. You take the phone from his hands and dance your fingers over the keyboard, putting a fairy emoji next to your name as you push save. You hand it back over to him as he slides it back into the pocket of his jeans.

The sun starts to set as colors of deep purple, bright orange, and dark pink paint the sky red as the sun slowly slips beneath the fluffy clouds. He rakes a hand through his tousled curls and nods your direction as he steps down the porch steps. You wish he’d stay for dinner, but you should probably let him get back home.

“It was nice meeting you, darlin’.” He says your name slowly as it drips off his tongue like sweet molasses, sending butterflies flitting through your stomach. “You gonna save some of that sweet tea for me next time?”

Next time. That means there will be a next time. Another day with Joel Miller sipping on your herbal tea as you teach him all about your favorite things. It sounds absolutely magical.

You smile gently at him and shake your head. “I’ll have a pitcher waiting for you,” you promise.

He chuckles as a smile splays against his gorgeous face, painting his eyes the color of hazelnut coffee. So fucking beautiful. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll hold you to it.”

He turns and walks back to his Chevy truck, but before he makes it he turns around and gives you one more long, waning glance. His eyes full of admiration. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you whisper back to him, letting the soft wind carry your voice over to him. He gives you one more lingering smile and then walks away. You watch him start the engine and watch as the his headlights disappear through the trees, down the gravel road that’ll lead him back home.

You turn and slide down your porch, leaning your elbows against the edge of your lilac dress as you let out the longest sigh you’ve ever breathed out of your mouth. Oliver comes up and brushes up against your hip, meowing as he stares up at the lingering dirt in the air from Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, Oliver, I think I like this one, too,” you sigh, daydreaming about the next time you’ll see those dreamy brown eyes of his again.

Joel lays in his bed that night, twirling the lavender colored rose between his fingers, inhaling the scent of fresh gardens, sweet smelling flowers, and you. He’s already memorized your exact smell. You smell like rose petals, lilacs, and sweet tea. It’s intoxicating, a fragrance he can’t seem to get out of his head.

And your smile. God, that sweet smile you give him makes him a weak man. He could never say no to you as long as you fluttered those long, dark eyelashes up at him as you flash him that beautiful smile. The one that makes his heart swell in his chest. He can’t wait to see you again. Just the thought of him pulling you in his arms with that form fitting lilac sundress sends chills down his spine. Joel Miller is not one to fall easily, but for you it might be as easy as putting one foot in front of the other.

He places the soft purple rose on his mahogany bedside table and takes a picture as his camera flashes over the rose. He pulls up your name and attaches the picture with a cute little message.

Please, don’t mess this up, Joel. She’s too perfect.

Your phone chimes on your cream painted nightstand, and you roll over in your queen sized bed, taking the lilac sheets with you as you reach for your iPhone. You see a number you don’t recognize on the lit up screen and slide the lock open. Your heart jolts as soon as you see the picture of the lavender rose on his nightstand, the words take your breath away. It’s him, Joel.

Joel: Thanks again for the rose, little enchantress.

You melt as you read the text over and over and over again. Little enchantress. The nickname nearly makes you fall out of bed with how sweet it is. You text him back a couple minutes later.

You: You’re so very welcome. You’re always welcome to come get some more. My garden is always open.

You end the text with a smiley face and a rose emoji, setting your phone back on the nightstand after pushing send and then hug the silky purple pillow to your chest.

He kept the rose you gave him. He kept the rose. He was thinking about you just like you were thinking about him.

You turn again in your silky lilac sheets and inhale the soft vanilla candles that burn in the corner of your room. The gentle breeze of night slips through your cracked window and blows the sheer white curtains to the side. Shadows dance across your lilac covered walls, and it almost looks like two people slow dancing in the moonlight. You pretend it’s you and Joel, dancing under the moonlight as he pulls you close and grazes his lips against yours, pretend his hands envelop yours as his calloused fingers graze the edges of your face.

You turn back around and close your eyes, wishing for dreams of dark eyes and tousled curls. Joel, Joel Joel. You were all his, all for the taking. He just needed to come sweep you off your feet, and you’d be his. You already knew, he was the one you wanted, the one you’d been wishing for for your entire life. He was the one.

Joel was the one.

Tags: (Please let me know if you do not want to be tagged. I figured you guys would want to read!) @joelalorian @joelmillersblog @vividispunk @tuquoquebrute @mountainsandmayhem @princesatracionera @blueseastorm @janaispunk @amyispxnk @bambisweethearts @vivian-pascal @strawberri-blonde @dugiioh @akah565 @ka-x-in @orcasoul @lotusbxtch @reddedmiller @r3dheadedwitch @pedrostories @jasminedragoon @msjarvis @littlevenicebitch69 @ezrasbirdie-main @cherrybombsxxx @thischarmingmandalorian @prettytulips @burntheedges @sweetercalypso @keylimebeag @casa-boiardi @vvitchesh3x @laurrrra

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rainneverstopped · 4 months ago

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July 29th 2024, 4:30pm

Another day of intense grief, guilt, confusion and so much sadness because you don’t belong and need love that never, ever comes. I woke up so tired today for no reason and I wasn’t sure I would be able to function. The constant sleepiness is becoming a daily thing. I’m scared of having moments of calm because I don’t want to be magically punished for them later. I miss having weeks where I felt all right and had fun. When did it become this fucking helpless?. The worst part is everyone’s unwillingness to see any of this as a serious issue. I did have a very good session with my psychiatrist on Saturday. I don’t want to flatter myself by thinking I’m important enough for him to give me an emergency session (I sent him an upsetting message while having a crying fit) maybe he just works on Saturdays but it was so nice regardless. I felt heard which is rare, I felt ok for a moment. Of course in true “me” fashion I asked him if he disliked me and he laughed and said he didn’t dislike his patients. I figured it would be better to ask than to wonder like I always do. I walk down the street and feel like I’m witnessing some kind of theater play where everyone is “in” and I’m kinda there watching. It feels like being somewhere where I’m not supposed to be. Like going to a foreign country except that it’s not fun or positive or constructive in any way and no part of my soul feels nourished. If anything it feels drained. This is particularly funny because at the same time I constantly feel I’m putting on a show and pretending to be human and I’m pretty sure most people just exist and leave it at that, they don’t have to spend hours wondering how to react or behave. Cried myself to sleep yesterday because I got attached to someone (not romantically) that is not in my life and now I miss him and cry desperately whenever I feel alone or just in general. I feel asleep and had some weird sleep paralysis where I could breathe (I generally can’t during sleep paralysis) but couldn’t move and I kept hearing construction like noises and voices of people yelling and calling my name. I would struggle to wake up and felt scared for my life and kept thinking I needed to walk to the window and check that everything was all right but couldn’t get my body to stand up and as soon as I opened my eyes and tried to snap out of it, they would close again and I would drift into this half asleep state where it would continue. I was terrified. Whenever I opened my eyes the voices would dim a little bit they were still there. Eventually I managed to fully wake up by moving my toes around and got up and checked at the window and the voices went away, it was deserted outside. I stayed up a bit with my phone because if I go straight back to sleep it usually just happens again. It’s like my brain needs to reset before I keep on sleeping. I went to sleep after a while. Today at the subway there was a woman who was selling pens and stationary because she was hospitalized and on disability benefits. She was schizophrenic and the hospital had allowed her to leave for the propose of selling those things to cover for the cost of her soap, toothpaste, shampoo, ect. Apparently the government doesn’t cover those things and it has to come out of her own pocket. What kind of evil, gross hellscape are we existing in?. I want to opt out. Tired of my country, tired of waking up, tired of the dark, dark sadness of it all and the constant, debilitating fear that doesn’t even let me enjoy reading a fucking book. Living should be reserved for the most horrible of humanoid monsters, nobody else deserves this perpetual panic. I hope nothing bad happens to me. I know I have it good in many ways but I wish I could spend the rest of my life crying in somebody’s arms, heavily sedated.

Edit: I noticed I sometimes write “you” instead of “I” when talking about myself. I usually core t it but I’ll leave it because it’s interesting to me and I should probably think why that is.

#my thoughts #ocd #avpd #autism #depression

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overcomingmentalhealth2024 · 10 months ago

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Almost 6 years ago one day in Feb I get on Facebook and the first post I see is bad news. Our friend that we graduated with died from a drug overdose. He had been suffering through grief that turned in to serious severe depression.

I couldn’t stop crying the pain in my heart after I had talked to my friend the only friend that calls me shawty. When he told me how our friend died and that he was suffering through depression using drugs to take the pain away I instantly started thinking what if I had known? Would he still be here today? What if I talked to him more instead every once in a blue moon would he still be here? I can’t change Gods will and now my grief from 6 years ago has been let go.

Now I am on a healing journey I have committed and been reborn through Christ. I am able to show you the way to healing, so please take my hand I’ll be your friend. Listen to my words and let’s take this journey together. Those drugs and any thing that will harm you or me destroy it. Give it to someone who will make sure it won’t be in your sight ever again. Now I have to tell you this one piece of advice. You have to open the door to your heart, let the devil out. He’s going to run away and he’s going to run very fast. That does not matter and that’s what we want. So let him out… because the devil don’t want you to win. The Devil don’t want you to be somebody everyone else thinks your not. The Devil wants your soul he wants to use Your soul for all eternity you will never find happiness if you allow the Devil to take your soul.

So you see Jesus loves you and he will never forsake you. He will never lie to you. Jesus has made a place for you. He wants you to come to the place he has made for you. The way through healing of depression is through Jesus.

What happens when like David you have cried out in anxiety pleaded in prayer and sung in faith. What happens when you acknowledge your feelings as real feelings and put them under the authority of God’s word. What do you do then?

I’ll tell you what do you do then you go look up Granger Smith you read his book. You listen to his podcast. You listen to his sermons and that right there is the joyful feeling of your going to feel better in your heart the moment you hear that soothing voice through his music, his podcast, his book and his sermons the storm will stop the skies will clear the sun will come out and the blue skies in your heart will rain down covering your heart with pure happiness.

One day 2 years ago I was listening to the radio. I was working for Hardee’s for a store that I’ve been working at for a long time. I was listening to the Bobby bones show and I heard this sweet calming voice the moment he started speaking talking about his music the storm in my heart just calmed it soothed my soul and I started wondering am I in the wrong place who is Granger Smith? So I went home and I googled him oh boy oh boy he’s a radio host. The next day I went to work listening to after midnite with Granger Smith and my life changed!!!!!!!!! I became a fan started saying yee yee and became a yee yee nation Virginia girl. Yee yee nation has changed my life. When someone upset me I just say Yee yee and if I have to I just walk away Yee yee with my hands in the air and if I really have to I don’t look back. And I don’t let that one person ruin my life. Life isn’t promised and you have to take one step at a time and be granted that You woke up only bc GOD WOKE YOU UP THIS MORNING.

When God wants to bless you how does he do it? I’ll tell you how he blesses everyone. He sends people in to your life and there’s a purpose for everyone that loves you, there’s a purpose for everything in this world. God sends people in to our lives like for example your going through a rough patch so you go on to Facebook and flip through the reels. You see a funny guy telling jokes he made you laugh and you felt better. Do you know why he does that? To make you not feel alone you make you feel like you know who this guy is and you feel like he’s a friend. He may not know you but you know him. You know why? God put him on this earth he told him go out make people laugh.

There was times when I was alone and a few years ago I started following my creator influencers friends that I’ve always loved. They have always made me feel like I wasn’t alone.

Before I close this blog entry I would like for you to do something today. GO MAKE A FRIEND!!! Go laugh and put that laughter in to your heart. I can recommend a few friends for you to follow. When I thought I needed a counselor for mental health before I went on TikTok I realized that there’s creators that can give you the same connection but I’m going to say that they are not any mental health consultants of any kind but they can be a friend and they can take you on a journey and give you inspiration.

One friend to follow is GRANGER SMITH. They have the SMITHS vlog and much more.

Second friend to follow is newellboyce. Newellboyce he became a friend and he has really good inspiration and is a really good listener. Go see him on his live and he will make you feel like he’s a brother you never had. He’s funny, he sings plays music plays the guitar gives good advice has a showcase. And he makes you laugh and he also makes you have that feeling like your stuck in the live and you can’t leave bc you just don’t want to leave. Newellboyce he’s the type of friend that I hope to meet someday. He’s also been through a rough road and he tells his story and he tells it like no other.

I also recommend you follow manusia_selang. Newellboyce was talking about his live and he recommended that some go watch l his live. Well I listened to the voice that is a great inspiration to me and manusia_selang he just makes me happy to. Make sure you give him a cowboy hat he will pick up the heavy weight.

I’ve recommended 2 tiktoker creators for you to follow please tell them Angie sent you!!!!!

#mental health #mentally tired #positive mental attitude #mental illness

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plinkcat-gif · 2 years ago

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🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

🍦 What's the sweetest fic you've created so far?

<33333 im like out of it sorry if these qs are bad lakjdb

it’s ok dfjksjdjfks <3333 i understand feel better soon!!! <33333333

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

no lololol i don’t think so <33 i have like one irl friend that knows vaguely of my naruto interest and that’s it

🍦What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?

sweetest as in “that’s so sweeeeet dude” ?? coyote for sure but don’t read it i’m embarrassed but read it it’s important to me but don’t read it it’s bad but rea—

sweet as in “awww cute!!” ?? ummmmm idk i feel like all my fics follow the formula of “sad neurodivergent gets comforted by slightly happier neurodivergent” and so they all kind of have the same amount of hurt/fluff ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ask game!

https://kirpyee.tumblr.com/post/693413281781710848

#idk i’m lowkey bad at talking about my fics #because i want to but i’ll die if somebody reads it and thinks it’s bad #but i want to talk about it #but i’ll cry if somebody reads it and th #kirpy answers

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winter-soldier-vibes · 4 years ago

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Come Back Home (Bucky x reader)

Come back home

Bucky x reader

Word count: 3,061

Summary: You were getting worse and were afraid to hurt Bucky, but unable to hide it. Instead of talking it out, you ran away. Embarrassed and afraid, you avoid the calls and voicemails from the man you left. But one night, you can’t help but listen to them, and you need to hear his voice.

Warnings: depression, reader blames herself, Bucky blames himself, anxiety attack, lots of tears, lots of fluff and comfort

I actually got this idea from @thelifeof.jana on TikTok, she posts different scenarios with comfort characters and I wanted to make it into a fic.

Tags: @buckfics @buckys2thicc @abitgryffindorky @stucky-on-spiderman @thatfangirl42 @thundering-barnes

A/N: It’s nearly finals week and it is CRUNCH TIME so I’ve been writing when I can, I apologize for the sporadic-ness of it. Thanks for sticking with me!

A/N 2: I left a few things to interpretation, such as a nightmare. Insert what you want, I know everyone has different experiences and I wanted this to be as relatable to as many people as I could. I also left out when y/n gives an address because 1) I don’t know New York and 2) It’s likely somebody’s address in real life so...interpretation.

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Your phone began ringing, piercing the otherwise silent house and startling you

Answer it.

You stared at the phone, taking a deep breath.

Ring

You picked it up and turned it over, closing your eyes and letting a breath out.

Don’t answer it.

You looked at the screen again, seeing the name of your favorite person.

Bucky…

Ring

Answer it

No.

Please, I wanna hear his voice.

I can’t

Ring

Letting a breath out, you put the phone down and sat on the floor next to your bed, leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Then you were left in the silence once again.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, waiting a few more seconds for the next noise. Sure enough, your phone made a sound, notifying you of yet another voicemail.

Another addition to your library of ignored messages.

You picked up your phone, clicking to see the messages you never listened to.

25 unheard messages. All of them from Bucky.

Your finger hovered over them for a moment, allowing yourself to ponder listening to them. But you sighed, closing your phone and placing it back on the nightstand. You couldn’t listen to them. Because if you did, you wouldn’t be able to resist calling him back. And you couldn’t take that risk.

You’d spent this much time without him. Once you heard his voice you’d be spilling everything to him. Just like you used to. Which is why you left in the first place.

Bucky was special to you. He always had been. Despite all the trauma he’d gone through, he was still kind and gentle. He had been the one to pull you out of the dark place you were in at the time. He was always there to talk to you, listen to you, or help you take care of yourself when you just couldn’t anymore. He’d sat through many of your panic attacks and calm you down if you had a nightmare, just as you would for him. He would drop anything for you, you always came first.

And that was the problem.

He did too much for you, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. This man had already gone through so much pain and suffering and was finally getting better. He was going out more and the nightmares happened much less often. You were grateful for the love he gave you, and you loved him more than anything.

Which is why you couldn’t bring him down anymore. So, one day when he was out on a mission, you had packed up your few positions and left him a note.

Bucky,

I just wanted you to know that I love you so much, but I have to go now. I’m sorry.

-Y/n

You had to keep it brief. If you said anything more you knew you’d say too much, and it would only make leaving harder. And if he knew you were leaving because you were hurting too much, he wouldn’t stop until he found you.

Not that he wasn’t looking for you know.

You had rented out a room in the cheapest hotel your could find in somewhere-New-York-City. It was small, it wasn’t the cleanest, but it was fine. You didn’t care, it was functional. Within hours of leaving, your phone started ringing. Not that you answered. You couldn’t, not when you would start crying once you heard his voice.

You got many texts and calls that night.

What happened?

Where are you? Y/n are you okay??

Tell me where you are, we can talk this out, please.

You couldn’t bring yourself to read more than that. You silenced his messages and let the calls go to voicemail, never able to bring yourself to reject a call, instead letting it ring all the way until he got the same voicemail message every time.

Hi, it’s y/n. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, have a nice day!

The same fake cheery message every time, giving an empty promise.

What you didn’t know was that on the other end of the line, Bucky was shattering a bit more with each voicemail he left.

Bucky’s POV:

He couldn’t understand what could have happened. Why you had left all of a sudden. He knew you had some bad days, and the first time he had read it he was terrified that you had done something. He usually was able to see when things were getting bad again but he couldn’t think of what he could have missed. When he saw that you had read his texts that night, seeing the word read appear after a few of them, he told himself that you were okay.

Because he didn’t know what he was going to do if you weren’t.

What you didn’t know was that you had helped Bucky just as much if not more so than he had helped you. His nightmares happened less often because you were there with him every night. He was more outgoing because you had dragged him out to those first few bars and parties. He felt happier because he was helping you, and you made him feel safe and wanted.

And then you left.

He couldn’t sleep most nights, worried about you. Most of the nights he did sleep, he dreamt about you and everything that could have happened. He called you every day, multiple times, needing desperately to hear your voice. He withdrew again, only going on one mission when the team absolutely needed him. It was his only sense of purpose anymore, but it meant nothing compared to what you had meant to him

But you didn’t know that. Because you hadn’t opened any of his messages yet.

It was late now, and Bucky was discouraged. It had been over a week since you had left, and his texts had gone unread ever since a the first night you left. It wasn’t a long time. But it was still too long. He decided to try your phone once more.

Ring

Bucky closed his eyes, begging you would pick up, silently knowing you wouldn’t.

Ring

“Hi, it’s y/n. Leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can, have a nice day!”

Sighing, he got ready to leave a voicemail. After the beep he said, broken.

“Please y/n. Come back home.”

Your POV:

You sighed as yet another round of rings echoed through your apartment, hearing the notification soon after, notifying you of yet another new voicemail.

You looked at the time. 11:03 P.M.

You sighed, knowing you should get some sleep. But no matter how tired you were, you knew that once you closed your eyes, you would have nightmares again. And no one would be here this time.

You couldn’t deny it, you weren’t doing well. Your appetite had diminished and you relied heavily on caffeine to supplement the sleep you refused to get. Not that it helped your appetite in any way.

You would go through the motions, make it to work (most days) and get through the day just to...get through the day. You weren’t living really. Just surviving. You knew it was getting bad again, some nights so dark you weren’t sure if you would see the light the next day. Yet you couldn’t let yourself call him. You didn’t want to hurt him.

But you didn’t know that you had already hurt him more by leaving than you ever could’ve by staying.

You sighed, knowing that eventually, you were going to need to sleep. Might as well try to. You didn’t know if for sure you would have a nightmare, so may as well try?

That turned out to be wishful thinking.

Major wishful thinking.

You woke up screaming, drenched in sweat and looking around the room frantically. When you realized it was just a dream, you put your face in your hands and felt tears immediately prick your eyes.

When was this going to stop?

You felt your chest contract as you realized the truth. It wasn’t. Not like this at least.

Just over a week and you were already at your breaking point.

Call him

You looked at the time. 2:47 AM.

You couldn’t call him now.

Call him.

You opened your phone and found Bucky’s contact, finger hovering over the name once again. At the last second, you clicked your voicemail inbox instead, scrolling back down to the first one on the night you left.

“Y/n?”

Your breath hitched as you heard his voice, fresh tears pricking your eyes. Not just from his voice and how much you had missed it, but also the absolute panic in his voice.

“Where are you? Are you okay? Why- why did you leave? Please, answer the phone, I need to know you’re okay.”

You clicked on another one from a few hours later.

“Y/n, please, I saw you read the first few texts I sent. Please answer the phone. We can talk this out, whatever it is just - please call me.”

Tears were falling from your eyes, and you didn’t have it in your power or even the desire to stop them. You flicked to another one that was sent a few days later, this one was longer.

“Please y/n,” it started, his voice soft and cracking with emotion. “Where are you? Just - just tell me where you are, please. I need you. These past few days it’s like I hear your voice and then there’s nothing. I miss you so much. I’m nothing without you please....please just come back home. I don’t care what you did or think you did or why you left. I love you. And I could never stop loving you. I can come get you, we can talk this out. Please. I can’t do this without you. I - I’m falling apart.”

You were now sobbing as you flicked over to your text messages and clicked on Bucky’s name, seeing texts upon texts from him.

One of the more recent one’s caught your attention.

“I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong?”

Never, never in your heart did you ever think Bucky would think that he had done something to drive you away. Your heart broke, realizing he could be blaming himself for your leaving. It was never his fault. It could never be his fault.

With shaking hands, you pressed the phone icon below his name, bringing the phone to your ear as you listened to it ring.

You tried to control your breathing through the tears, falling apart after a few seconds of thinking you had it together.

Ring

Please pick up, I need to hear your voice.

Ring

I’m sorry this is all my fault.

Ring

Please, I -

“Hello?”

Your breath hitched and your eyes flew open. Your words got caught in your mouth, having no idea what to say. Bucky, on the other side of the line, hadn’t even looked at the caller ID. He hadn’t fully fallen asleep yet, but the tiredness was evidence in his voice.

“Hello?” he said again

“I’m sorry,” you choked out.

Bucky’s eyes flew open and he pulled away his phone, seeing your name across the screen. All exhaustion was gone from his body, and he heard you trying to control your breathing on the other side of the line.

“Y/n?”

“I’m so sorry…” you said again, breaking out into sobs.

“Y/n, can you tell me what’s wrong? Where are you?” he said, panicked and getting out of bed, pulling on a shirt and shoes.

“I’m sorry, Bucky, I’m so sorry,” you said again, not being able to say much else.

“Y/n, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re okay. But I need you to tell me where you are, can you do that for me?”

He waited for a moment while you tried to pull yourself together enough to repeat the address of the hotel.

As you did, Bucky was already out the door and in the car, starting it and putting you on speaker, driving as fast as he could to the hotel and ignoring all traffic signals. It was the middle of the night, and you were not okay.

“I’ll be there soon, angel, can you keep talking to me?

“I’m sorry Bucky…”

“It’s okay y/n. You’re okay. We’re okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

His words didn’t reach your ears, your breathing getting harder to control and your tears fell faster. You had fucked up, this was your fault. Why did you call him, now he knows where you are and you were going to burden him with all your shit again.

He could hear your breathing become labored as he sped further towards your location. He tried talking to you more but he soon realized that he wouldn’t be of much use until he was in front of you. His heart was breaking and he was hoping nothing was seriously wrong.

But you wouldn’t have called him like this if nothing was wrong.

Clenching his jaw, he scanned the street signs for yours, knowing the city well enough to know he was close.

When he pulled up to the street, he couldn’t help but wince at how dingy this place was. It was run down and the smell was putrid. He was so sad that this was where you had run off to. He took his phone, saying how he was here but it fell upon deaf ears. You weren’t calm enough to hear his voice from the phone you had dropped when you had moved to cover your face instead.

Bucky took the stairs 3 at a time, getting to your room in record time. He pounded on the door, trying the knob even though he knew it would be locked. Calling out your name and getting no response, he decided to break the door in. It was barely hanging on its hinges anyway.

“Y/n? Y/n where are you?” he called out, met only with the sounds of your labored breathing. He followed it to your room, where you had curled yourself into a ball against the headboard, hands covering your face as you struggled to breathe.

He walked over to your side, reaching out his hand but thinking better at the last moment. He needed to make sure you knew that he was there, he didn’t want to scare you.

“Y/n?” he starts softly.

You lifted your head and looked around yourself wildly, startled when you saw the figure of a man standing in front of you, trying to push him away. He grabbed your arms and you tried to break free

How did he get in here?

What does he want with me?

Why-

Your eyes settle on his. Light blue eyes, staring right back into yours. You knew them, you were safe with them. Your own eyes, red and blotchy flash with realization and you let out a sob.

“Bucky…”

He took you into his arms as sobs wracked your body, rubbing an arm up and down your back in efforts to calm your shaking form. He was repeating comforting words over and over again. You clung to his shirt as you kept apologizing over and over again, not knowing what else to say - or even how to say it.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Shh, y/n, it’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m here. I got you.”

You tried to focus on his heartbeat, steady and strong, as you tried to take deep breaths. Eventually your tears slowed down as you still clung to him, tears drying on your face as you were able to deepen your breathing to match his. His hand still rubbed up and down your back as the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes.

You took a shaky breath. “I - I’m so sorry Bucky.”

Bucky took a deep breath and held her a little more tightly. He could still feel her heart racing. What could she possibly have to be sorry for?

“What happened y/n?”

You felt tears prick your eyes again. Sadness, shame, embarrassment and made you feel sick to your stomach. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before you were able to speak.

“I - I don’t know.”

“Please y/n. Tell me why you left.”

“I just… I was… “ you swallowed and let out a shaky breath. “It was getting bad again,” you said, voice barely audible.

Bucky clenched his jaw, angry at himself that he didn’t see it. “Why didn’t you tell me? I told you you could talk to me about anything.”

You screwed your eyes shut. “That was the problem…”

Bucky pulled you back to look at you. “What?”

Your eyes darted everywhere but Bucky’s face. You didn’t want to see the pained expression you knew he’d have right now. You took a deep breath.

“I just… you were doing so well. And I - I just felt so bad for bringing you down all the time. You would drop anything for me, and you were always there and you were always perfect but I wasn’t.” you finally looked at him. “And I left because I realized I was never going to be.” You shook your head slightly. “I didn’t want to put you through that when you were doing so well.”

You looked away, unable to look at Bucky’s sad eyes any longer. Bucky broke the silence after a few moments. “You were the only reason I was better.”

Now it was your turn to look at him confused. “What?”

“You brought me out to places when all I wanted was to hide. The nightmares stopped because you were there to make me feel safe. Every time I helped you, I was helping me too,” he said, voice cracking. “You were the best thing that ever happened to me. You weren’t too much for me, you never could be.”

When you still looked unsure, he moved his hand to cup your cheek. “It’s okay to let people help you, y/n.”

Tears pooled in your eyes once again. That had been what you had said to him when he began closing himself off, be it an intense nightmare or being triggered. Back when things were bad. Like they were for you now.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay.” he whispered, hugging you again. “Let’s go home.”

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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Weasley support system

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Summary: Y/N takes the position of a subtitute teacher at Hogwarts; her and George’s eldest son comes out as gay Word count: 1465

warnings: pretty emotional, but I wouldn’t say sad? supportive parents and siblings

a/n: This is based on the concept from my last post. I didn’t spend too much time working on it so I hope you like it? I couldn’t decide on a title so this one might be rubbish. It was a good palate cleanser while writing the next chapter of little steps as it’s long and my mind started going in loops. Which is why if you have any request, send it my way. I know I haven’t shown much yet, but I’m open peeps

Feedback encouraged!

14th May 2020

Dear Y/N,

The reason I am writing to you is to make a request.

I have recently received news of our current Defence Against the Dark Arts professor’s plan to retire. I’m afraid this has come as a bit of a shock to me and I won’t be able to find a suitable and competent successor in time before September. I don’t suppose you would be willing to take that position long-term, however, I’d like to offer you the position of a substitute teacher for one year, time in which I’m sure to find somebody good enough.

I am giving you time to think the decision through, but I hope to see you at the start of September.

Minerva McGonagall Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

You finished reading the letter and placed it on the table next to your coffee mug and the breakfast leftovers. George took your hand and you looked up at him, both of your facial expressions in a mix of excitement and uncertainty. “What do you think?” He asked after a bit of silence, softly caressing your hand with his thumb. “It’s an interesting opportunity..” “It is..” you trailed off “I would see the kids more” he nodded.

You got a bit happier at the thought, and your mind once more went to how soon they’d finally be back home for the summer. You got used to being apart from them, last September even your youngest left for Hogwarts, meaning you and George were left alone at home. You got used to it, but you still missed your babies, who were not babies anymore.

Your eldest, Lucas - now finishing his fifth year, was an introvert with a heart of gold. The twin girls – Ruby and Vivian – although different from each other, both took after their dad – but to your luck with less interest in mischief. The youngest – Jacob, had a natural talent for driving his sisters insane.

You knew being apart from George for months after nearly twenty years of being married would not be easy, but you decided to go through with it, hoping this interesting experience would prove worth it.

Riding on the Hogwarts Express brought a familiar sense of excitement, but you weren’t a student anymore. It was strange, passing the compartments and seeing your children and their many cousins chatting with their friends just as you have all those years ago.

As a professor, you were determined to make your students comfortable and interested in what they were learning. They often asked questions about your work and sometimes about Weasleys’ Wizards’ Wheezes (as a Mrs Weasley it was inevitable) which served as a treat.

“Luke, could you stay behind, please?” you called after your son one day, right after a N.E.W.T. level class with 6th years. He gave his friends a look and walked up to you. “Could you pass me your textbook for a second? I think there were some changes between editions and I’d like to check it with the one I have before my next group…” You said as he reluctantly took the book back out of his bag and put it in front of you.

You flipped through a few chapters and started skimming through one you needed to check. You saw some doodles around the text, along with a few signatures from the same person – Dylan. You did not give it much thought – you knew Dylan, he was Luke’s friend and visited your house a few times in their first years.

You also didn’t notice Luke’s change in expression when you reached that page. His whole body tensed up and breath hitched. He didn’t listen to you ramble about the change in the description of non-verbal spells, he wiped his sweaty palms in his trousers and studied your face, waiting for something.

“You should invite him over around Christmas, baby. It’s been a while.” You said closing both of the books. “Who?” “Dylan” “Why?” asked with a shaky voice, starting to feel slightly sick. “Well, you mention him so often. He’s still your best friend, isn’t he?” you looked up to see your son in a state you’ve never witnessed before and you didn’t understand why. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as his eyes started to shine. “He’s not really my friend, mum.” you waited for him to continue, “I like him.” his voice barely audible, yet you still didn’t understand what was going on. You brought your hand up to caress his arm as his lip began to tremble, “I know, baby, it’s-“ “No, mum, you don’t get it!” He bit his lip holding back his tears. “I- I like him…”

You pulled him into a hug and cursed yourself for taking so long to catch up. You embraced the boy as tight as you could. “I’m sorry,” he said between weeps. “No, baby! You have nothing to be sorry about” You brought his face to your shoulder and caressed his head. He took his height after his dad and was already taller than you, but right now felt so small in your arms as you wanted to protect him from the world. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you sooner” “It’s my fault you didn’t feel comfortable enough to tell me.” You said, now crying with him. You stayed like that for a bit, kissing the side of his head from time to time. “I’m not sure you could’ve done any better, mum. You’re pretty great,” he laughed softly. “I try.” You chuckled. “Could you.. could you not tell dad?” he said pulling away. It slightly worried you. Was he afraid of coming out to George? You didn’t know how he’d react, but it couldn’t be bad. He loves his children, no matter what. “I- I just want to tell him properly, face to face. I’ll do it during Christmas break.” “Ok, baby,” you said, relieved, pulling him down to place one last kiss to his cheek, to which he rolled his eyes. Back to normal, that means.

It wasn’t easy hiding it from George when you saw him next weekend, but you managed. Luke soon came out to his siblings (Jacob replied with ‘so?’ and the twins claim they knew).

Before you knew it, George was picking you all up from Kings Cross and you were heading home for Christmas.

The next day, you spent the early afternoon at the Burrow to Molly’s delight. Back home, you planned to decorate the house and most importantly – the Christmas tree, after dinner which you were now preparing in the kitchen. It was open to the lounge room, where you could hear George mumble mostly to himself while reading a magazine. You had missed that.

Lucas walked down the stairs inconspicuously and walked up behind the couch. “Can I talk to you, dad?” he asked and you tried to stick to your cooking and let them have their moment, but it was hard not to listen in. “Sure, champ, what is it?” George looked up from behind the paper for just a second, and Luke sat down. “I- I gotta tell you something.”

George put the paper down, confused by the sudden seriousness. “..You’re not making me a granddad yet, are you?” he tried to lighten the mood, but when Luke only looked at his feet, George straightened up completely with raised eyebrows. “No, I’m not,” George’s face relaxed a bit, before his son continued, “that’s unlikely.” he paused for a bit and took a deep breath. “I’m gay, dad”.

There was silence for what felt like hours when in reality it lasted just a few seconds.

George’s face showed pure shock. His back fell against the couch. “Dad?..” Tears started to well up in Luke’s eyes and you wanted to run up to him when you heard the shakiness in his voice. But then George looked up at him.

The warm, reassuring smile you saw on his face reminded you again why you love that man so much. He opened his arms and your son entered his embrace. “I love you, son. And I’m proud of you.” “I love you too, dad.”

That evening, decorating the house with your family made you happier than ever before. You watched the kids bicker about the placement of the ornaments when an arm snaked around your waist. “The rascals will always find something to fight over, won’t they?” he said with a smile and kissed your cheek. You looked up and placed your hand on the side of his face and whispered “I love you” “I love you back,” he said and kissed you softly. When he pulled away, you saw that familiar smirk and he turned to the kids.

“So, any boy you’re gonna introduce to us soon?”

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #weasley twins #harry potter imagine #x reader

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custardcrazy · 4 years ago

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Newt Scamander x Reader: I’ll Be Seeing You (Part 1)

A/N: i’ve been working on this lol and writing for newt makes me stupidly happy.. lol

anyhow, here’s part 1 of this new series about our favorite magizoologist !!

warnings: angst (next part will have fluff dw), parents fighting, bullying, a tad bit of abuse from the father. do not read this if any of that stuff triggers you.

part 2

------

Poppy

Since you were a child, you had possessed the ability to connect with plants on a near-spiritual level- and to heal them, as well. Even for a kid born into a magical family (you were a pureblood), this was unusual.

It was an ability that was pretty much laughed at by anyone you told.

"That's ridiculous! Stop lying!" said some. "That'll be useless in combat," sneered others.

Your mother was very kind, but could do little to nothing to stop people from ridiculing the "plant-talking freak". All she really did was provide you with temporary comfort and a sense of safety from the outside world that was less than welcoming. Your father, close-minded as he was, didn't directly yell at you, but you could tell from his expressions that he was disappointed.

When you were younger, you were very lonely. It was really stupid how people would distance themselves from you, thinking that they'd catch a disease or something if they got too close. And all of this manifested itself into you being maybe a bit too friendly for some people.. because all you wanted was a real friend.

One warm summer day when you were about seven, you were playing in the local park. Your mother was sitting on a bench nearby, reading a book. Your father was busy at work, as usual.

With a small sigh, you had gotten up from the patch of flowers you were in, and walked over to an area of trees to look around.

Whenever there was natural life around you, you had discovered that it was present as a dull hum in your mind and ears. At first it had been annoying, but by now you had grown used to the feeling. Welcomed it, even.

As you peeked around a tall oak, you caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar kid squatted over the ground. They seemed to be poking at some pink, mushroom-like things.

You drew a bit closer, trying to get a better look at them.

But as you took a step forward, you stepped on a stick, and it broke in half, causing the kid to jump and nearly fall over backwards.

He (now you were sure it was a he) looked at you, with widened eyes. He looked absolutely petrified!

"Oh- I'm so sorry for scaring you!" you said quickly, holding up your hands.

"I-I-it's fine," the boy stuttered, turning around to face the mushroom things again with a slightly flushed face.

You tilted your head to the side slightly. "Are you okay?"

"Y-yes-" he answered, looking extremely reluctant to continue the conversation. But being the young child you were, you didn't recognize that at all.

"I'm glad that somebody else my age is in the park!" you interrupted, a smile beginning to form on your face. "What's your name?"

"Er.. Newton.. but y-you can call me Newt, I guess." Newt gave a short sideways glance to you as you crouched down next to him.

"Oh, that's a nice name! I'm (Y/N)!" You stuck out a hand for him to shake.

He merely looked at your hand, then returned his attention back to the pink fungi things.

"I don't.. do.. handshakes."

You shrugged, pulling back your hand. "Alright then."

Pausing, you focused your attention hard on the pink things, wishing to communicate with them. But, strangely enough, you didn't sense anything from them- so even though they did look like plants, they weren't, you concluded.

"What are those mushrooms called? They're not plants, are they?" you said, now curious to what these beings were.

Newt looked a mix of surprised and impressed, turning his gaze fully at you. "H-how.. ho-how did you know that? It's nearly im-impossible to tell between-"

With a slight hesitation, you just grinned. "I know a few things about plants, I suppose."

Over the next year or so, you grew closer to your new friend bit by bit. You learned that he was interested in magical creatures. That he was studying the mushroom things- Horklumps, he said they were called- to learn how they worked. Apparently he had some back in his home!

School did start up again eventually, but that didn't stop you from visiting the park nearly every day, looking forward to the afternoons spent with him playing around in the woods. Newt had become the closest and best friend that you'd ever had.

You still weren't sure if he'd react kindly if you told him about your freakish powers, though.. and you didn't want to lose him.

One evening, when you were flipping through one of your favorite books, you heard yelling from downstairs.

Sneaking over to the stairs, you peeked into the living room, where your mother and father were having a heated argument. They hadn't been getting along well as of late, with your dad growing more and more irritated at work and coming home in a terrible mood all the time, having shouting matches with your increasingly quiet mum over trivial things. (He did most of the shouting.)

...But it wasn't like they got along very well in the first place, anyway.

"WELL I DON'T CARE! JUST CLEAN THE DAMN PLATES BY THE TIME THAT IT'S TIME FOR SUPPER!" roared your father, red-faced in his anger.

Your mother looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Please, just be patient! It'll only take a minute-"

"A minute!? Woman, GET ON WITH IT!"

She shushed him. "Please, think of our child, you'll frighten-"

"Our child? I never asked for that plant-whispering freak!"

Tears began to blur your vision.

But just before you ran upstairs, you saw your mom suddenly clench her first, hissing words at your father that you couldn't hear before pulling out her wand.

Not wanting to watch any longer, you hurried upstairs, running into your room and slamming the door behind you.

Turns out your parents split up shortly after that.

The feeling was numbing, really. You didn't feel sad. You didn't feel angry. You didn't feel happy, either.

And when you learned that you were going to move to America to live with your mother's sister, you just slowly nodded and packed up your things.

The day before your departure from your home, you visited the park for possibly the last time. The last time you'd see your dearest and only friend.

You found Newt easily, and he gave you a crooked grin. "Hello."

"..Hey," you said, looking and sounding as hollow as you felt.

He instantly looked concerned. "I-is anything the matter, (Y/N)?"

"No- well, yes." Sniffling, you nodded. "I'm.. I'm moving. I'm moving, Newt."

"Wait- moving to wh-where?" Standing up from the ground, Newt walked a bit closer.

"To.. to.."

You felt tears threatening to spill over your cheeks, and couldn't find the correct words to tell him that this was maybe the last time you'd see each other.

"(Y/N), please, ju-just tell me. I-I'm- we're friends, right? You can trust me-"

"LOOK, I'm moving to America- and I'm pretty sure I'm not coming back!"

If this was a normal situation, you would've laughed at the expression of pure shock on Newt's face.

But this time, you just wanted to cry and cry and cry.

"Th-this.. th-this isn't a joke, r-right..?" His pitiful expression showed that he was wishing for this to not be true. That it was just a nightmare. And partly, it was a nightmare.

"I-it.. it.. it really.. isn't." You sniffled again, trying and failing to wipe away your tears. "I.. I do-don't want to leave, but t-there's really no other choice..,"

"So.. I'll never see you.. again..?"

You could tell that he was struggling not to cry. You could see the glimmering in his eyes.

With a sob, you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight.

He froze momentarily, but slowly hugged you back, tears slipping down his face.

"(Y/N)!"

You heard your mother's call in the distance, pulling back from Newt.

"(Y/N), we need to get going!"

"Look, I- I'll miss you," you said hurriedly, letting go of him and turning away. "Goodbye."

Suddenly, a gentle hand grasped your wrist.

You looked back, and found something being pressed into your hand. Quickly bringing it up to look at it, you found a smile making its way into your expression.

It was a bit rough, but nonetheless charming. A little copper moon charm threaded onto a rope bracelet that was a bit big for your wrist.

"..T-thank you," you said.

"(Y/N), this is the last time I'm going to yell!"

Newt smiled back at you. "Be careful. I'll miss you too."

And you turned around for the last time, running off and not looking back.

#newt scamander #fantastic beasts #fantastic beasts and where to find them #x reader #newt scamander x y/n #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #angst #there will be a part two

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rizlowwritessortof · 3 years ago

Text

Meant To Be - Chapter 7

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 2537

Warnings: Smut, violence

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Jordan barely saw Dean or Donna for the next two days. She had almost given up and gone to bed when the door opened and they trudged into the room, and she didn’t need to ask how things were going with the case.

Donna held up a hand in a halfhearted greeting and headed for her room, and Dean practically threw himself onto the sofa next to Jordan with a frustrated sigh.

“So it’s not going well,” she stated, reaching for his hand. He shook his head, lacing his fingers through hers, gnawing at his lip as he let his head drop back against the couch.

“It’s like they disappeared. They’re not showing their faces anywhere.”

“Do you think it’s over?”

“No. I’m sure it’s not over. Somebody’s fucking with us, and I don’t like being fucked with. I’m getting a real strong feeling that these kids aren’t at the wheel.”

Jordan looked over at him. “You think there’s someone using these kids to do their dirty work?”

Dean turned his head, nodding his response. “That’s exactly what I think.” His jaw worked for a moment before he went on. “And to make things even worse – that kid, the one Evan was going to shoot? They found his body this afternoon in a dumpster. Shot in the head.”

“Oh, my God, Dean!” She put her hand to his face and he leaned into her touch, his eyes closed. “I know how torn up you are about all of this. But you have to get some rest.” She leaned in to kiss him gently, and he opened his eyes, the defeat there making her heart ache.

“I know. I should head out.”

“No. You should stay.” She kissed him again. “You can go home and change in the morning. Come on, detective, let’s haul your ass to bed.”

“Still so bossy,” he grumped, and she smiled.

“Don’t act like you’re all offended,” she countered, standing and reaching a hand towards him. He shot her a sidelong glance with a rueful smirk, reaching for her hand and rising to his feet. “Come on. You’re exhausted. Bed time, mister.”

Dean made it to the bed and plopped down, untying his shoes and shoving them off. Jordan changed quickly into her usual t-shirt and shorts, and he was still sitting there, staring into the distance. Wishing she could take some of the burden from his shoulders, she moved to stand in front of him, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off his shoulders. He pulled his arms free, and then pulled her close, his face against her chest, and she rubbed at his shoulders and neck for a moment before pulling back. He gave her a sad, weary little smile before standing up to shed his jeans and socks, and she folded the covers back, waiting for him to climb in. “Need anything?” she asked softly, and he shook his head.

“Just you.”

“That I can do,” she said, crawling in beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and giving her a lingering kiss before falling asleep almost immediately.

Dean’s restless twitching and unintelligible mumbling woke Jordan from a deep sleep around 3:00 a.m. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her hand, and she shook him lightly, trying to wake him. “Dean. Dean, wake up, you’re dreaming...” He let out a muffled cry, half-sitting up as she moved back slightly, his breathing panicked and his eyes wild. “Dean, it’s okay. It was a nightmare,” she said softly, waiting until he turned to look at her before she reached to lay a hand on his face. His eyes drifted closed as he dropped back down, his arm flung over his head as he forced himself to calm. Finally, he blew out a breath, and Jordan leaned down to kiss his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He stared up into her eyes, his chest heaving a little less as his body adjusted to reality, reaching up to touch her face with his fingertips. He slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her down, kissing her hungrily but gently, his free hand finding its way beneath the hem of her shirt to caress her soft skin. He rolled, moving her to her back, stopping the kiss only long enough to gaze down at her, the question in his eyes answered as she reached down to pull her shirt over her head. Then his lips were on hers again, tongues tangling as he finished undressing her and ripped his boxer briefs off, fitting himself between her thighs.

His fingers were warm, stroking through her folds before he plunged them inside her, then removed them to line himself up. Their moans and sighs were swallowed by their kiss as he thrust forward, her hips bucking up to meet him, her hands clutching at his shoulders. He rocked into her gently, barely pulling back before burying himself again and again, Jordan’s legs clutching at him desperately as she met his rhythm. When she came, it surged through her like a wave on the beach, quiet but powerful until it reached its peak, and as it began to ebb, she felt Dean’s cock swell and pulse as he joined her. She let her shaking legs slip down to the bed as Dean finally stopped kissing her to let his head drop to the pillow beside her, his breath warm on her neck as he panted softly.

She kept her arms wrapped around him, her fingers stroking through the damp short hair at his nape, until he finally moved with a gentle kiss to her shoulder. “Be right back,” she whispered, rolling over and heading to her bathroom to clean up a little, bringing back a cold glass of water for him. He propped himself up on an elbow, drinking it gratefully, then set it aside and pulled her close again as they drifted back to sleep together.

Jordan woke a few hours later as Dean kissed her on the forehead. She looked up to find him fully dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned down to kiss her lips, lingering for a moment, before raising up to speak softly. “I gotta go. See you later?”

“You’d better,” she smiled.

“Go back to sleep, it’s early. I’ll call you when we’re done for the day.”

Jordan sat on the sofa, her fingers flying over the keyboard of her laptop as she finished editing a contract and sent the email off to Sam. Only one big job left, the Cranston contract, and she began to read, her brow furrowing a little more as she reached the third paragraph. There were conflicting statements, and it was definitely not something she was comfortable handling without talking to her boss.

She grabbed her cell and dialed, waiting for Sam to answer. When he did, he sounded stressed, a little out of breath. “Jordan, hey.”

“Hi, Sam. Everything okay?” He didn’t answer for a moment, and she said his name again, worry nudging at her. “Sam?”

“Jordan, I’m fine. But – well, I’m at the office. Somebody broke in. The cops called me, they waited here long enough for me to get some plywood to board up the plate glass window.”

“Oh, no… Sam...”

“Don’t even say it. Dean would take my head off if I let you come down here. It’s fixed for now. I just grabbed a few important files that are ongoing and I’m heading home.”

“I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to handle that on your own.”

“It’s okay. I’m locking up now and heading out.” She could hear him fumbling with the keys in the door, and then the sound of his footsteps as he walked to his car. “Son of a bitch!”

“What? Sam, what’s happening?”

Sam sighed heavily, his frustration evident. “My car. They ripped out the wiring.” She heard him slam the hood closed before he continued. “Fucking awesome. Sarah’s out of town, and none of the cab drivers will come down to this neighborhood after the shit that’s been happening. I’ll have to walk a few blocks before I can call for a ride. I’d better let you go.”

“Sam! Don’t be crazy, I’ll come and pick you up.”

“The hell you will. I don’t want you anywhere near here, do you hear me, Jordan?” His voice brooked no argument.

“Okay, okay. But I could drive and meet you farther up, give you a ride the rest of the way. I don’t like you being on foot down there, especially since they already vandalized the office and your car.”

She could tell by his breathing that he was walking, and waited for him to respond to her offer. “Okay. Don’t come any further south than that convenience store on the corner of 57th Street. Even if you don’t see me. You wait for me there, and if I don’t show up, you call Dean. Promise me.” When she didn’t answer, he spoke again, firm and insistent. “Jordan? Promise me.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath. “Fine. I promise. Just – be careful.”

“I will. See you soon.”

Jordan grabbed her keys and her phone and headed out the door, her concern for Sam’s safety all she could think about. It was a twenty-minute drive to the office, and she was hoping that he would have reached the safety of the convenience store by the time she arrived. She had an ominous feeling that he was being toyed with, and she wouldn’t feel better until she had him out of the area.

She pulled into the store’s lot, parking at the outer edge so she didn’t block the gas pumps, and peered up the street. Half of the street lights were broken, of course, but she thought she saw a large figure moving her direction. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when she could finally see that it was him, a laptop bag bulging with file folders clutched in one hand. He raised his hand in greeting, walking quickly towards the car.

She unlocked the doors and smiled at him as he opened the back door to toss the files inside. “Thanks, Jordan. Gotta say, I was a little nervous walking...” Before he could finish his sentence, he was surrounded by several dark figures wearing hoodies and ski masks, and he managed to slam the door closed before his legs were swept from under him. Jordan screamed his name, grabbing her phone to dial 911.

“911, what is your emergency?”

“Please send help, there’s a man being attacked! Corner of 57th and Harrison, by the convenience store. Hurry!” One of the attackers rolled over the top of the hood and reached for her door, and she quickly hit the door lock.

“Ma’am, please stay on the line...” Jordan didn’t hear the rest of the sentence as the glass from the driver’s side window exploded into the car and a gloved fist landed a heavy blow to her jaw. A large gloved hand grabbed the back of her neck and slammed her face into the steering wheel. The last thing she heard was the tinny sound of the dispatcher’s voice from her phone. “Ma’am? Ma’am, are you still there?” The words grew faint and distant as her world faded to black.

Dean charged off the elevator, badge in hand, with Donna on his heels. “Sam Winchester. He was just brought in, he was assaulted.” The nurse took one look at his face and the badge, and with no argument began to type the information into the computer.

“Looks like they’re prepping him for surgery. Exam room 8, down the hall to the left.”

Dean rushed that direction, and Donna smiled and thanked the nurse before following. He was being blocked from entering the room by a nurse in scrubs who was patiently explaining what was happening. “Sir, we need to get him into surgery, so it will have to wait.”

“Is he gonna be okay?” Dean dragged his hand down over his face, trying to calm his panic.

“He’ll be fine. We think he may have a ruptured spleen, and his broken arm needs to be set. He’s got some broken and bruised ribs, and he’ll need a few stitches for cuts on his face, but he’s going to be okay.”

He looked at the nurse, fighting his urge to just push her aside and enter the room. “Good. That’s good. Problem is, I need to talk to him. There was a woman with him, and she’s missing. I need to know if he saw what happened.” The nurse closed her eyes for a moment, then let out a reluctant sigh.

“Okay, sir. You can speak to him for a moment. But we have got to get him to surgery.”

Dean nodded in agreement, rushing forward as soon as the nurse moved. “Sammy? Sam, can you hear me?”

“Dean. They took her. They got Jordan.” Sam’s voice was weak and strained, his face bloodied and bruised, and Dean clenched his teeth at the surge of pure fury that washed through him. “I’ll be fine, Dean. You gotta find Jordan.”

“Did you see anything? Faces?”

“They all wore masks and hoodies. All black. Couldn’t tell who they were.”

“Sir, I’m sorry, you have to leave now. We have to finish prepping him for surgery.” The nurse, half Dean’s size, was determinedly shoving him towards the door.

“Sammy, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He grabbed the nurse’s hand as she turned away, and she looked up at him. “Please call me when he gets out of surgery. That’s my brother.” Her face softened a little, and she nodded.

“Give the desk nurse your information, and we’ll let you know.” She gave Dean’s hand a squeeze, then hurried back to Sam’s side.

He turned, long strides carrying him back to the front desk, giving the nurse his contact information. Donna waited by his side, then grabbed him before he could move away. “Okay, now – stop for a second. What’s the plan, Dean? You need to calm down and think.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. Okay. You’re right.” He looked into his partner’s eyes. “They’ll be calling me.”

“Yes, they probably will. Do you want to head to the precinct, get set up for a trace?”

“Yeah. Probably won’t do any good, but – yeah.” He rubbed his hand roughly over his face again, shaking his head. “I should be here with Sam. I just...”

Donna took hold of his arm. “He told you to go. I already called Sarah, she’ll be here in a couple of hours. He knows you need to find Jordan.”

Dean nodded. “Okay. Okay, let’s go.” He looked at Donna again, his eyes full of torment. “Donna, this is all because of me. If something happens to her...”

“No. We are not gonna let anything happen to her. We will get her back, whatever it takes, and we will take down the bastards who did this. Right, partner?”

He blew out a breath, then nodded. “Right.”

“Good. Now let’s move it, Winchester. We’ve got work to do.”

Chapter 8

#meant to be #chapter 7 #dean fic #dean smut #dean x oc #dean x jordan

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dex-xe · 3 years ago

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I’ve made Spotify playlists inspired by each of the ghosts and I’ve made these little written pieces to talk about them. if you wanna read them, please go ahead - if not then enjoy the music!!

This is the Captain's playlist:

Moonlight Serenade - Glenn Miller

This is one of my favourite like old WWII style songs, I just think it’s beautiful and really great to dance slow to (at some point in my life I will dance with my husband or wife to this song in our little kitchen, and then my life will finally be complete). It’s in Doctor Who (in The Empty Child) and Jack and Rose dance to it in front of Big Ben, like it’s a really great scene in one of the best episodes of Dr Who ever. So good and a great WWII song.

Soldier - Trixie Mattel

Yes, I know this is about Katya’s issues and everything that happened with that but like it is also like very accurate to the Captain’s arc. Like “soldier, take your time” is like yeah?? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t believe the Captain is even remotely aware of the fact he’s gay cause like I don’t reckon he understands love or the fact that he’s got feelings like that, I don’t think he knows so yeah take your time to figure it out yeah, Captain.

We’ll Meet Again - Vera Lynn

This song seems to have taken a new meaning in pandemic times but Havers leaving Button House and (I assume) never returning but like the Captain staying at Button House completely in the dark as to what happened to Havers and therefore living with the possibility of Havers returning.

HEAVEN - Troye Sivan & Betty Who

Obviousssss, but this song was such an integral part in me figuring shit out about my life. Like, I was 14 and a massive Troye fan when it came out and (growing up in a working class, strict religious, small town family) the music video was literally my first understanding of the fight for queer rights. I knew about LGBTQ+ identities and identified as a variety of queer labels at the time I was completely unaware of the entire struggle that had come before me and seeing photos and footage of this fight for the first time was O.o Anyway, I'll stop talking about myself and say that I’m incredibly happy with the hc of the Captain trying to learn a bit more about queer history in his journey to accept himself.

In Our Bedroom After the War - Stars

The poor Captain, let the man love I beg. I have so much love for stories and hcs of the Captain being sweet and being in love like pls ily.

Achilles Come Down - Gang of Youths

This might actually kill his gay little soul but by good it would be worth it!! I’m gonna go off on a bit of a philosophy tangent but what were ya expecting from me honestly: the sample used in Achilles Come Down is an extract from a 1942 essay by Albert Camus who, alongside Kierkegaard and Nietzsche and the like, wrote about the concept of ‘the absurd’ which is a tricky concept but a reallyyyyyy simplified version of it is basically the idea that humans constantly search for a meaning and purpose for life and the universe but the universe does not provide answers to that which causes human distress. Basically, what I mean to say like isn’t that concept just so Captain?? Like he searches for meaning in war and can’t see life beyond the war because that provides him purpose, you know?? But yeah, it’s a banging song and I’m sorry about the tangent.

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

Ya saw this one coming :P Well he just is a good old fashioned lover boy so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

William, It Was Really Nothing - The Sm*ths

Even just the name being right is like *chefs kiss*. Yes there are lines in this song that are just shit and reallyyyyyyy show the views of M*rrisey and his general shitty behaviours.

It’s a Long Way to Tipperary - John McCormack

It’s just a fun song.

You’re Somebody Else - flora cash

LGBTQ+ staple really, ik it’s about being trans but I wanted to include it because of the recent Ben Willbond interview when he talks about how he’s interested in the contrast of a confused authoritative figure. Like the Captain is such a contrast and I love that in characters.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time - Harry James

Like I’ve said repeatedly, I wanted at least a little bit of time specific music for each of them I could. So yeah there’s a few for the Captain, WWII music is such a vibe tbh.

The Boxer - Simon & Garfunkel

I’ve always interpreted the song as being about loneliness and well, Captain my boy that you. Like he’s literally surrounded by people 24/7 but is so very alone. When the others are all watching tv in Redding Weddy and the Captain is just sat in the window watching for Havers is just so pretty and I think it’s really telling of the relationship he has with the others.

The Arrow and the Aim - Nadia Reid

Pretty pretty song, the voice is *mwah* but that’s irrelevant.

Ramblings of a Lunatic - Bears In Trees

Okay but like yes. The Captain is so alone like despite being around people literally all the time - not being able to escape you might say. Is he aware he’s different? Like what goes on in his head, will we ever know?? Cap, you gotta start talking to people, man. You gotta open up cause you will go crazy, Ik it’s been 70 years fella but seriously you’re gonna go crazy soon.

Death with Dignity - Sufjan Stevens

Just a beautiful song, and yeah with the Captian being the way he is and so focused on the war and military and the idea of "death with dignity" is pretty prolific. Given that we're fairly sure the Captain never saw any action, would he be considered to have died with dignity?? Maybe, maybe not idk.

I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General - Arthur Sullivan & John Reed

That one scene where Alison is trying to sleep and the Captain is just sat beside her bed singing this. Like that’s so funny XD It’s his little head bob as he sings like that’s so good.

Kiss Me Goodnight, Sergeant Major - Arthur Askey

I remember my nan had an Askey record and she used to play it all the time and this always made me laugh cause 5 year old me couldn’t get the image of a really strong and tough soldier being all motherly and yeah I just wanted to include it :D

Teddy Boy - Paul McCartney

The Captain’s name is Teddy, I take no debate on this. Just the idea of the Captain’s backstory, like a childhood backstory for the Captain genuinely makes me cry. I know a lot of people have shared their stories of their interpretation of the Captain’s childhood and they’re all sad and I love them all :’) (Specifically a big fan of Operation Keep Calm on AO3 and what they’ve done with the Captain’s character and story, 10/10 would recommend but it’s not finished and I really hope it is at some point ily).

O Captain! My Captain! - The Static Shift

Just an interesting song, yeah? “I believe I’m in my prime”/“In my bally prime”, you get it XD

John My Beloved - Sufjan Stevens

I love this song (no I’ve never seen the film and no don’t really intend to) It’s just sweet, you know, and the religious elements etc yeah that’s good.

#bbc ghosts #bbc ghosts captain #Spotify

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch45: He Started It

Intro: Katie and Steve adapt to being the parents of a new baby as 2020 ticks by in a whirl of dirty diapers, sleepless nights…and a very childish war between Steve and Tony.

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut! (NSFW) No under 18s.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Yeah, I love this chapter. I hope you all do too. And thank @angrybirdcr for the edit. It made me laugh, a lot.

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.

Chapter 44

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

May 2020

Katie heard a set of keys being dropped onto the table in the hallway and looked up as Steve opened the door to the living room, crossing the floor, Lucky following him before promptly dropping on the rug in front of the fire place, clearly pooped after his walk.

“Hi.” Steve smiled, sinking to one knee and pressing a kiss to her cheek as he reached out a careful finger, gently tracing the curve of Jamie’s busily working cheeks. “Somebody’s hungry.”

“Somebody takes after his father in that respect,” Katie retorted glancing up at him as he gently loosened another button on his plaid shirt, rubbing his hand over his clean shaven face.

“I feel like I should be apologising.” Steve smiled as his lips pressed onto hers and she gave him a proper kiss. He pulled back, grinning as he looked down at the tiny hand that gripped his finger solidly, lost in his thoughts.

Only the previous month the new dad had been in the throes of a sudden crisis of confidence post one of Jamie’s check-ups. Though Jamie was as healthy as a baby could possibly be, he was still on the small side. Bigger than he was when he was born but still tiny. The Paediatrician advised it was nothing to worry about, and that it was likely to be something to do with Steve’s body chemistry and who he was before the serum. Steve had been none too thrilled and had blurted out to Katie later on that he felt like he had let their son down.

“You could never let our boy down, ever.” She said, as they both lay on the bed, Steve’s feet planted firmly on the top of the duvet, legs bent with Jamie resting back against his thighs, both his hands curled round Steve’s fingers. “He’s perfectly fine and healthy, love. If he grows up a little small, so what?”

“I just want more for him, more than I was you know.” Steve swallowed, his eyes misting over.

“Hey, look at me.” Katie reached up and turned his head to face her. “You have always had the biggest heart, regardless of what you think. The serum isn’t you, you’re you, and if Jamie grows up to be half the man his daddy is I’ll be so proud”

The fact that right now Jamie seemed to have an exceptionally strong grip for a twelve week old baby made Steve slightly more confident that maybe he had inherited some of the positive effects of the serum after all.

“What time do we need to be at Tony’s?” Steve eventually asked, tearing his eyes off his son to look at his wife.

“Pepper says to get there any time from four so we can collect Emmy from school and go straight up.”

“Sounds good. Do you wanna stay or come home?” Steve asked.

“Rather be at home.” She answered, honestly. “Just easier whilst he’s so young. If he starts screaming the house down at least we’re here.” “Whatever you want, Doll.” he smiled, and at that point his attention was taken once more by baby Rogers who had finally finished his meal, milky mouth opening into a small yawn. Katie handed him over to Steve and did up the shirt that she was wearing, as Steve stood up, adjusted a soft cloth over his shoulder and held him tenderly to his front, gently patting his back.

“Baby, you look exhausted” He glanced down at Katie as she yawned.

“Thanks.” She grumbled, shooting him a glare.

He chuckled “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah well I probably do look like shit.” she sighed “Neither of us got much sleep did we?”

They’d had a rough night the night before. Since they’d brought Jamie home, Steve and Katie had both shared the night feeds following advice from various people to spread the load so to speak. The problem is, for some reason, Jamie hadn’t settled at all post feeding and in attempt to let Katie get some rest, Steve had brought him downstairs but it hadn’t worked as she was unable to sleep as the sounds of his cries made her heart ache.

“Why don’t you go get your head down for a bit?” Steve suggested, as his large hand rubbed at their son’s back. Before Katie could reply, Jamie promptly spit up down the front of Steve’s T-Shirt, missing the cloth completely.

“Nice shot, son.” Steve rolled his eyes and Katie laughed standing up to mop him off. Jamie seemed utterly nonplussed by his activities and his large blue eyes blinked heavily before closing. Steve brushed a soft kiss across his son’s forehead and then looked at his wife again.

“Go, get some sleep. And that’s not a request, I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

“Bossy bastard”

Steve arched an eyebrow at her “I’m not bossy, I just can’t deal with Tony’s tantrum if his baby sister falls asleep at his 50th party.”

“Good point, well made.” Katie conceded. She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek before heading back out of the room.

Steve watched her go, a frown playing across his face. She’d been really quiet over the last few weeks. Life with a baby wasn’t easy, it was full of hard work, sleepless nights, puke, poop…but every time he saw his son it all paled into insignificance for him, as he was worth it. Maybe his wife was struggling a little, as despite her joke before, Jamie sure did feed a hell of a lot. At their last appointment it had been suggested that maybe they tried introducing formula as well to help fill him up which was what they had started to do overnight and he had been hoping that it would it make things a little better for her as he could do the night feeds and allow her to sleep.

Last night had been the worst one they’d had in the twelve weeks since his birth but that aside, there were other things Steve had already noticed too the main one being she wasn’t as affectionate towards him as she had been. The other night for instance he’d tried to instigate a little bit of something because frankly after months of giving himself a jerking off once every so often when he felt like his balls were explode, and he missed her. He missed how she felt under him, over him, next to him…any which way she was. But, he knew he had to be patient, her body had been through a lot after all. He’d wondered at first if it could be post-partum depression but none of the other signs he had read up on were there so he was putting it down to tiredness and hormones.

He couldn’t help with the latter, but he could sure as hell try and make sure she slept. And he could apologise for being impatient as well.

Once Jamie had dropped off to sleep, Steve placed him in his basket and headed into the kitchen. There were a few dishes and what not from breakfast so he sorted that out, wiped the surfaces to save Katie a job and then settled down in front of the TV. It wasn’t long before he was himself asleep.

***** Katie wanted to cry. Nothing in her fucking closet fit, well nothing that didn’t make her look huge. She’d settled for a navy blue strapless maxi dress which flared out from her waist so wasn’t clingy. The large pink and white flower patterns also flattered her as much as she could but she wasn’t happy.

You’ve just had a baby, let’s be real… she thought to herself, before she grabbed a pair of strappy sandals and a denim jacket, hastily wiping her eyes. Fuck it, she was going to be amongst friends, as if they cared what she looked like. She stepped back into the main part of the bedroom, where Steve was pulling on a dark green polo-shirt. She looked at him for a moment, simply admiring him, and found herself rather jealous that his physique hadn’t changed since having a baby. He had no stretch marks, no two inch increase to his hips, belly and fuck knows what to his boobs.

Bastard.

Steve’s head emerged from his shirt and he looked at his wife, watching as she moved to sit at the dresser to pull her hair back into a loose braid. He passed her, his hands dropping to her shoulders as he stopped to give her bare skin a soft kiss.

“You look beautiful.”

“Sure.” The sarcastic response and the eye roll happened before she could stop them, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed but of course, he had. Steve frowned. “You do.”

She sighed and looked down slightly and Steve didn’t like this, not one bit. Moving so that he was by her side he gently placed a hand on her knee and knelt down next to her, and she glanced at him as he looked up from his spot on the carpet. “Honey, please don’t fly off the handle at me, but are you okay? This isn’t like you and I’m kinda getting worried a little.” “Hormones.” Katie sighed, rubbing at her eyes slightly. “And lack of sleep. That’s all.”

“So it’s not something I’ve done. Or not done?”

“No, baby, it isn’t, I promise.” She gave him a little smile, reaching out to brush her hand down his cheek.

“Alright, as long as you’re sure.” He licked his lips slightly before he took a deep breath “And I’m sorry if last night you thought I was rushing you or putting pressure on you.” He licked his lips. “I didn’t mean to. At all.”

Katie looked at him and suddenly felt awful. He hadn’t done anything of the sort. He’d been nothing but patient and loving with her since Jamie had been born.

“Steve.” she shook her head, “That’s not…” she sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose “You didn’t. Honestly. It’s me…I-“

She swallowed and looked down at her hands and when she looked back at him, it was his turn to sigh as he saw the tears brimming in her eyes.

“Honey, please talk to me.” He begged, both his hands now on her knees as he knelt up slightly.

“I just…” the tears trickled down her face and Steve took a deep breath as she looked at him. “I know you say I look beautiful but I don’t feel it, not at the moment. I don’t feel like me. I look different, none of my stuff fits now, I feel huge and fat and…” “Okay, okay, stop.” Steve instructed sternly but not unkindly. He wanted to tell her she was being ridiculous, as frankly he loved the changes to her body. There was a new curve to her hips, her body was softer, her face slightly rounder. She wasn’t fat either, but Steve understood straight away that the problem was she was used to her figure before-hand, washboard stomach, trim legs and thighs all courtesy of a physical job and Avenger Training. And as Steve knew only too well, sudden changes to yourself could be hard to deal with.“You had a baby three months ago.”

“I know but since when did a baby mean my ass had to treble in size, or my hips, or my boobs…” she trailed off.

Steve took a deep breath, and then suddenly something popped into his head, something that hopefully could make her understand and see why none of that shit, even if it was true would matter to him in the slightest.

“If I woke up tomorrow, and the serum was gone, and I was back to being that 5ft 4, ninety-five pound scrawny guy from Brooklyn would you love me any less?” “No, of course not!” She scoffed, indignantly. “But that’s not the same!” “Why not?” “Because this is about how I feel.” she said

“Yeah, and I still feel like that kid that was getting his ass kicked all the time.” Steve implored, searching her face. “As you keep saying, the serum didn’t change who I am.” “And that’s why I love you.” She frowned.

“Exactly. So what makes you think I could possibly love you any less now because your hips or your ass or your boobs are bigger, which for the record, I’m kinda on board with.” “Jerk.” She mumbled, sniffing slightly and he smiled.

“Frankly,” Steve looked up at her, his eyes heavy, “I still find you the most beautiful woman on the planet. And you’re my wife, who gave birth to my baby boy.”

She cocked her head to the side and he saw a smile flicker on her face. “Say it.”

He raised an eyebrow, “What?” “You know what.” “You’re my baby momma.” He grinned with a low voice and it made her smile as she bit her lip. He took a deep breath and reached out with his hand to cup her face. “I love you.” “I love you too.” She replied gently, and she leaned down to press her lips onto his, the kiss growing quickly heated as she slid her hands into his hair, her nails raking down his neck causing him to groan.

“Seriously,” Steve pulled back, looking at her, “you’re gonna have to stop that because if start I aint gonna be able to stop and we’ll be late picking Emmy up.”

Katie looked at her husband, his blue eyes shining with mischief and she was both surprised, pleased and a little relieved to feel that familiar tingle between her legs that she hadn’t felt for ages. Glancing at the clock she realised she was right so she sighed and turned back to the mirror.

“Hold that thought, Soldier.” she looked at him in her reflection as he stood up and smiled, dropping a kiss to the crook of her shoulder and neck, and this time she didn’t push him away.

***** Tony Stark had always been known for his parties. Anyone who’s anyone would attend the raucous events filled with memorable moments. In contrast, the small gathering that was now sat on the table outside the lake-house was much more subdued. This was their first social gathering really since the snap and although various faces were missing, every single person sat there would have been happy to tell anyone who asked that it was enjoyable.

Thor, who hadn’t seen Jamie since a week after he was born was astounded at how fast the boy had grown, commenting that he was remarkably like his father, but with his mother’s nose. Their baby was, in turn, fascinated by the God, pulling on his beard at every chance he got. Steve kept apologising profoundly, but Thor wasn’t in the slightest bit bothered, if anything he seemed to enjoy it. He entertained the little boy for quite some time, which gave Katie chance to relax. Relax enough to quietly, although not that quiet so that Steve couldn’t overhear her, ask Pepper if she would be okay to have a glass of wine whilst still feeding Jamie. Pepper had smiled and simply told the younger woman that one glass wasn’t going to hurt, especially if she wasn’t going to be nursing until the morning and with that she’d poured a large one and slid it over to Katie across the kitchen counter. She’d hesitated for a moment and Steve had leant over closer to her, his finger-tips gently stroking her bare neck and shoulders.

“Doll, we have enough bottles made up, if you want to drink, it’ll be fine.”

With that she’d smiled at him, picked up her glass and headed back outside. He’d followed and as she’d gone to sit back down at the table had pulled her chair out for her, force of habit as always, only this time when she’d sat down and he’d leant forward to place a soft kiss on her cheek she’d turned towards him and gently rubbed her nose against his.

“Thank you.” She smiled softly, and it didn’t take Steve longer than a second to figure out she wasn’t talking about his display of chivalry over the chair.

“Gross.”

Katie looked up to see Emmy was sat next to Tony as the pair of them stuck their fingers in their mouths, miming being sick before they cackled and shared a hi-five.

“One day you’re gonna grow up.” Katie looked at her brother over her wine glass.

“Hmmmn, not so sure.” Pepper said, dropping down in the chair next to him, Morgan in her arms. “Think this little one will do that before him.”

“Erm, you can’t insult me, it’s my birthday.” Tony shot, looking round.

“He’s right, they’re the rules.” Emmy nodded, earning herself a fist bump from her Uncle.

“Cheers kid.” He smiled, and Katie rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t worry, Kiddo, she’s thirteen this year right?” Rhodey leaned forward for his drink. “Soon be way ahead of his mental age.”

The table giggled and at that Tony pouted and announced it was time to fire up the grill for the food.

For the rest of the evening, Jamie spent most of the time being passed around the table for cuddles from his extended family. And Tony even took on a nappy change to give Steve and Katie the chance to continue eating as Jamie chose the most inopportune moment to kick up a fuss about needing one.

It wasn’t until they later that night that they realised there was an ulterior motive for his helpfulness.

Steve was busy making sure Emmy was tucked in for the night, the eleven year old having slept most of the 45 minute drive back home, whilst Katie was getting Jamie ready for bed, trying not to wake him. She removed his little dungarees and t-shirt to reveal a small vest underneath and as she looked at it she felt the laughter bubble in her chest and she couldn’t stop no matter how hard she tried.

“What are you-“ Steve stopped and gazed down at his son, his eyes widening. Katie had tears pouring down her face as she glanced down at the small white garment which bore two simple words and a symbol; ‘Uncle > Dad’

Katie wiped the tears of laughter out of her eyes as she gently undid the buttons along the shoulders of the vest and carefully slid it over Jamie’s head.

“You’re bother is an asshole.” Steve looked at his wife, grabbing the vest and tossing it across the room in a display of annoyance.

Katie rolled her eyes, smirking as she picked up their baby and gently placed him in the crib at the side of their bed. Steve wrapped an arm round his wife’s waist as she smoothed down the blanket and they both peered down at their son before he kissed the side of her head. She turned her face and captured his lips, the kiss deepening slightly as Steve pulled her to him, his hands strong at the base of her spine. Playfully he slid his hands down to cup her ass and she smirked into the kiss.

“Hands, Rogers.” She teased and he shrugged.

“I told you…” his lips brushed hers, “I like your ass.” “I like your face.” She pulled back, causing him to laugh and look down at her.

“My face?”

“Yeah, your big, stupid, handsome face.” She muttered, pulling him back down to her. In between the dizzying kisses, Steve steered her towards the bed, and as her legs collided with the edge he stopped to gently trail his lips across her bare collar bone. With soft hands, he undid the zip on her dress and he felt Katie hesitate slightly. Steve paused for a second, before his lips found her jaw and then she relaxed, allowing her dress to pool by her feet. Steve groaned and followed it down, dropping to his knees, his hands gripping at the back of both her thighs. His mouth gently licked the inside of her knee, making its way up her leg and Katie let out a shaky whisper of his name, her hands tangling into his hair as he moved his affections upwards slightly, skimming his nose across the waistband of her underwear, over her soft stomach. This time her gentle whisper became a loud groan which she stifled with her hand as he pressed his nose into her arousal, and she felt her knees tremble slightly.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, peeking up at her. She nodded and with a wicked quirk of his eyebrow, he stood up, fast, hand still on her thighs so she went with him and he pitched them forward onto the bed. Then it was a scramble to get out of his clothes as fast as he could before he fell forwards again, back on top of his wife, his hands pulling down her underwear, lips kissing at the spot just below her ear.

Katie was utterly lost now, lost in the sensations she hadn’t felt in so long and she tilted her head back, sighing softly as he continued to nibble at her neck, settling himself above her. His fingers gently dropped between her legs and he felt her slick against the tips as he gently coaxed at her clit, continuing until she was nothing short of a writhing mess clawing at his back, aching for him. They locked eyes as he took her left hand in his, and slowly worked into her, both moaning simultaneously at the sensation, Katie’s eyes rolling back at the stretch. Steve began to move his hips slowly, displaying nothing but absolute tenderness in his thrusts which weren’t measured in the slightest. His free hand kept hold of Katie’s hip, keeping her as close as she could possibly be.

A gentle breeze from the night air which blew through the slightly open window ruffled his hair and Katie wound her right hand into it, pulling him down to kiss her again as he kept his lazy thrusts aimed perfectly on her spot. Given that it had been over three months since their last time, it didn’t take them long at all before their releases were creeping to the forefront. Steve’s senses were on fire, and he broke the long, lazy kiss that they were sharing to stifle a moan against his wife’s cheek when he felt her clench around him. The sheets rustled underneath and around them both as their pace continued slow and languid until the very end when Steve saw his wife’s head tip back, her throat bared to him in utter bliss as she came hard, her moans soft and breathy. Steve gave a low grunt which morphed into a gasp as he clung to his wife as he spilled himself into her, his hips slowing to a stop as he collapsed forward. Katie gave a soft chuckle as her hands gently slid up his back and into his hair, as she moved and pressed a soft kiss to his head.

“You’re gorgeous.” His voice was muffled as his face pressed into her neck, and she felt herself flush and grin before he moved to look at her, catching her mouth in a sweet kiss.

******

July 2020

“What are you two up to?” Katie asked as she walked into the kitchen to see Steve and Emmy looking at the laptop one morning just as Steve handed Emmy his card.

“Buying something.” Steve replied.

“What?” “You’ll see.” Emmy glanced up. “In time.” Katie rolled her eyes, she had a horrible feeling this was to do with Steve’s return shot after the whole vest thing Tony had pulled just over a month or so back.

And she was right.

On Steve’s birthday, the perfect revenge was taken when the Rogers’ hosted a gathering, similar to the one Tony had held.

There was plenty of Asgardian mead shared between Thor and the Super Soldier. They got louder as the night went on, Thor telling him about another brew he had on the go and inviting him to New Asgard to be part of the testing panel. Katie wasn’t completely sure that was a good idea, but she couldn’t help but admit that pissed Steve was one of her favourite Steve’s, and she enjoyed watching him cut loose once in a while.

At one point, Steve took the boys and Natasha to see his recently furnished ‘man cave’ which was basically the cabin next to the pool house, which now held a couch, a TV, stereo and his art supplies along with a desk. They men spent a while looking at his latest project which was a pencil sketch of Emmy and Jamie sat on the lawn before returning to the group, topping up their drinks.

Natasha, Tony, Pepper and Morgan were staying that night, and when it started to get late and the thirteen month old was dropping asleep, Pepper took her into the spare room they were sleeping in, emerging with the highest tech baby monitor available, of course, which linked directly to FRIDAY. About an hour or so later, Katie saw Steve and Emmy disappear inside, the pair of them whispering. She watched them go and when they came back about five minutes later, Steve simply raised his eyebrows at her, grinning.

Later that night when, after Morgan had been making some soft noises, Tony went to check on her and the five of them who were left heard his exclamation on the baby monitor.

“son of a-“

His mumblings were followed by a loud fit of laughing and Pepper frowned. Steve and Emmy exchanged a look of glee and soon Tony emerged back onto the patio area of their garden, Morgan balanced on his hip, the dark haired tot wearing a bright blue Captain America hat. Steve reached over to hi-five Emmy as he raised his glass to Tony, giving him a slightly tipsy smirk.

“Now we’re even.”

“Oh if you think I’m leaving it there, Spangles, you’re very much mistaken.” Tony sat down with Morgan on his lap. “Just you wait.” And wait they did.

*****

October 2020

Steve walked in the door to a barrage of noise. Lucky was flopped out on the floor in the hall and simply gave Steve a look which he was convinced was the equivalent of an eye roll and he knew why, Jamie was screaming blue murder.

He was teething.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Steve smiled, dropping a kiss to Katie’s cheek before he gently laid his hand on the back of his son’s head. His cheeks were flushed from the teething and his little face was stained with tears.

“I don’t know what to do!” Katie looked up at Steve, utterly lost. “He’s been like this all day. I feel useless Steve, nothing I do helps, and the more he cries, the shittier I feel because he’s in pain!”

“Let me take him for a while.” Steve offered. “You should be getting ready to go out.” She pulled a face, and Steve frowned. She had been invited on her first night ‘out’ since having Jamie, with Brooke’s mum Jennifer and a few other mom’s from the school. Well, it wasn’t strictly out, it was a few drinks and snacks at the coffee bar for one of the lady’s birthday but still, it was a chance to let her hair down and she had been looking forward to it.

“I don’t know if I can go, not with him like this.” “Yes you can.” Steve looked at her as she gently bounced Jamie in her arms.

“But you have Emmy and Brooke to watch as well, it’s her birthday weekend and-” Steve snorted. “They’ll be in the den in sleeping bags watching movies and eating crap all night. As long as I provide them with pizza and a constant supply of popcorn I won’t see them. Come on, give him here.” He gestured with his hands and Katie passed Jamie over, and instantly the baby looked up at his dad and broke into a teary smile.

“Oh, that’s just fucking typical.” Katie threw her hands out to the side. “I sit here all day, you walk in and after five minutes he stops.” Steve laughed and looked at her, as she scowled. “I’m sure he’ll start again soon. Now go and get ready. Go on.”

With a last look at them both she headed out into the hallway and up for a shower. When she came back down an hour or so later, having taken her time just because she could, she found Steve in the kitchen making himself a coffee whilst Jamie sat in the highchair, chewing on a frozen teething ring. He grinned up at his momma who dropped a kiss to his head, all tears and tantrums forgotten, and Steve turned to look at his wife, a smile crossing his face.

She looked knock out in a simple pair of tight jeans, a white silk vest top and black blazer with three quarter length sleeves. She’d bought the outfit especially, after finally getting down to a size she felt comfortable at thanks to stepping her training back up making use of the pool and their gym. She had changed shape, there was no getting away from that, and Steve doubted that any amount of training she did would take her back to her SHIELD Agent size, which he didn’t give the slightest shit about anyway, but what was important was that she didn’t seem to care anymore. Her stomach was more or less flat again, even if it was a little softer than before, but her hips were bigger, giving her more of a curve, which Steve loved, grabbing her ass every chance he could do. There was also the added perk that, even though she was down to one feed a day with Jamie being on solids, her boobs hadn’t shrunk much, remaining two cup sizes bigger than they had been. Another thing Steve found pretty damned fine about his wife’s post-baby figure.

But, what he loved the most though was that she was comfortable with herself and it showed tonight as she grinned up at him and gave him a twirl. He aimed a playful swat at her ass before he pulled her close and dropped a kiss to her lips.

“You look great.” He smiled and she blushed, giving him a kiss back before they heard he door open and voices echo in the hall.

“Get a room.” Emmy said as her and Brooke emerged into the kitchen. Steve arched an eyebrow and made a meal of pulling his wife closer as Brooke whooped and Jennifer, who had come to drop the girls off and pick Katie up gave a wolf whistle. Katie laughed and stepped back, shooting Steve a look that almost had him hard right there as he knew full well it meant he was in for a good night when she got back.

Emmy opened the fridge, and Steve looked at her. “Yeah there’s nothing in there, we’re getting pizza.” “Sweeeeeeet.” Emmy grinned, exchanging a hi-five with Brooke, handing her a soda.

“No wonder she likes coming here so much!” Jennifer laughed again as the two girls headed back into the hall.

Steve smiled and leaned back against the counter. “Yeah, well, Katie’s the cook, not me.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Katie rolled her eyes, picking up her phone and dropping it into her purse “He can cook most things fine, he just can’t be bothered.”

“Don’t blame him, it’s Friday.” Jennifer laughed, as Katie dropped a kiss to Jamie’s head again before she turned to Steve.

“Don’t wait up.” She winked, and he rolled his eyes, giving her a look, because he knew full well he would.

*****

At the end of the month Emmy turned twelve and was overjoyed with the new bike, clothes and phone she got, but was most overcome with the party Steve and Katie let her have in the pool house, the parents supervising six other pre-teens from afar as they splashed about in the water before Katie fed them all burgers, mac and cheese, and enough sugar to keep them wired for a weekend. Emmy had cried again later that night, never having had a proper birthday party before and thanking them so much it made the pair of them tear up slightly too.

The start of November brought the time they’d been equally looking forward to and dreading- Jamie started crawling. And he was fast, possessing Ninja skills Natasha was extremely proud of. Steve and Katie, aided by Emmy seemed to spend all their time running after him and poor Lucky was the target of his affections as Jamie loved pulling his fur or ears. In an attempt to give Lucky some peace and to prevent any mishaps, Steve erected baby gates all over the house which were small enough for Lucky to leap over if he needed a fast escape, but they confined their little Carpet Terrorist to the room he was in. Naturally, Jamie hated them, and would sit and scream in frustration when he couldn’t follow his parents and sister freely, and Katie couldn’t help but laugh one day as he sat by the gate which separated the living room doorway from the hall, gripping the bars and yelling in objection as she and Emmy headed to the kitchen to make lunch. Steve was stood behind him, arms folded, shaking his head, a huge smile on his face as he chuckled.

“He looks like he’s in jail!” Emmy laughed as Steve swooped him up into his arms, blowing a raspberry on his belly instantly making all the tears vanish, his angry cried replaced by gurgles and giggles. At that point there was a sharp ringing in the hallway, indicating someone was at the drive entrance. Emmy headed to the screen.

“It’s a delivery driver.” She pressed the button to open the metal gates. Steve followed her into the hall, Jamie still in his arms. Katie continued into the kitchen and was joined a moment later by the three of them, Emmy carrying a small box.

“Who’s it from?” Katie frowned as she pulled the items out of the fridge to make sandwiches.

“No return address.” Steve shrugged, as Emmy pulled open the box. The girl glanced inside and her mouth made a small O as she pulled out the stuffed American Eagle toy that was inside, but then dropped it harshly as it started to sing. There was a pause, as the ‘Star Spangled Man With A Plan’ theme tune blared round the large kitchen from the stuffed animal, and then Katie started to laugh as did Emmy and Steve dropped his head and gave a groan.

With perfect timing, Katie’s phone began to ring and she pulled it from her pocket, grinning as she saw it was Tony.

“Ahhhh you got it!” He laughed, clearly able to hear the noise on the other end of the phone.

“Where on Earth did you find that?” Katie snorted.

“I made it, well, I made the voice box. I told him to wait! Tony Stark 2, Spangles 1”

Of course, Jamie loved his latest present. And every time Steve made an attempt to hide it, he would scream blue murder. Mind you, Steve wasn’t sure what was worse, the constant screaming or the damned song emanating from the fucking toy.

“I really, really hate your brother.” He groaned one evening at the end of November as he was sat on the floor trying to coax Jamie into playing with one of the other hundred toys he had, the infant simply refusing.

“I told you not to start a war.” Katie sniggered.

“I didn’t start anything!” Steve scoffed, indignantly “He started it with that damned vest!”

“Well if you retaliate it’s gonna keep on going, you know what he’s like he’ll…oh my God, Steve!” Katie suddenly changed subject, her mouth dropping open as she watched Jamie who had crawled to the side of the sofa and was now attempting to pull himself up. They both watched in awe as their baby grasped the side of the cushion in his hand and used it as leverage to get to his feet where he stayed for a second or two before his knees gave in and he crashed to the floor with a loud thump, his diaper clad backside hitting the carpet. There was a pause where they both waited for the ensuing scream, but it never came. Instead he gave a loud shriek of laughter and went to try again, Steve recording the second attempt on his phone, all thoughts of revenge and stuffed eagles flew out of his mind as he watched his son hit another milestone.

Jamie had a sudden growth spurt heading into December, meaning he was more than ample size for his age, much to Steve’s relief and delight, and all three of them noticed that he was incessantly chattering and although it was complete gibberish they often found themselves answering back. Emmy was best at this, Steve and Katie one Sunday afternoon hid in the doorway, stifling their laughter as she held a full blown conversation with the nine month old whilst they watched the lion king.

“No that’s Simba.” Emmy responded to a loud screech as she pointed to the screen.

More ineligible babbles.

“Nala, and that’s Zazu.” Another noise, this one a little softer.

“Yeah, he will in a minute. Not for a while though. He’s gotta go to the elephant graveyard first.”

Jamie giggled, gesturing with his arms.

“I know, right?” Emmy rolled her eyes. “Stupid thing to do, should stay on the pride lands.” A string of gibberish escaped Jamie’s mouth and he looked at Emmy with an expression on his face, just like he had said asked her a serious question.

“Well, no, I mean a lion could take them but man, those hyenas are sneaky.” At that, Emmy looked up to see her parents watching from the door and she shrugged.

“He still talks more sense than you.” Steve grinned, earning himself a scowl in response ***** “It’s wonky, Dad.” “No it isn’t!” Steve shook his head, standing back to look at the Christmas tree.

“Yes, it is!” “She’s right.” Katie grinned, where she was sat on the floor, Jamie stood in between her legs, using her fingers which she held out to support himself on his legs, bouncing up and down.

Steve stepped back and gave a groan as he saw it was, indeed, leaning to the right. After a bit of a reshuffle scattering more needles on the floor he finally righted it. Katie watched as father and daughter shared a hi-five before they set about digging the decorations out of the two boxes at their feet. Katie was happy to leave them to it shouting the odd direction and the time came for the star and the big switch on.

“You wanna put it on again Em?” he asked and she nodded eagerly. She took it in her right hand and, despite her being taller and bigger than the year before Steve easily lifted her off the floor, hands on her hips so she could drop the star onto the top of the tree.

“Ready?” she asked once her feet were back on the floor, as she ran to the socket on the floor.

“Hit it!” Katie grinned, standing up and swooping Jamie along with her so he was propped on her hip.

“3-2-1…” Emmy gave a count down before she flipped the lights and the tree came to life. “Awesome!”

She moved over to where Katie was stood and reached up, bopping Jamie on the nose who gave a smile in response. He was fascinated by the lights on the tree, his eyes going wide and he let out a loud noise of approval, reaching both his arms out towards it.

The decorations on the bottom two branches lasted approximately twenty minutes until Steve and Emmy hastily moved everything up out of his reach.

The family spent Christmas Eve afternoon with Tony, Pepper and Morgan (who was now fast into her toddler stage being eighteen months or so old) but their first Christmas together was spent at home, with Natasha joining them. Jamie doted on his Auntie Nat-Nat, a nickname Steve had given her, one she faked disgust at, but they knew she loved it.

They all exchanged gifts, giving Natasha a chunky silver chain bracelet which Katie had spotted as they were shopping not long ago, which made her tear up, and a framed photo of her and Jamie from Jamie, obviously, along with a box of her favourite sweets carefully selected by Emmy.

It wasn’t long before they got a call from Tony.

“I’m gonna kill your husband.”

Katie frowned. “What…”

“Morgan, she won’t leave the damned toy shield alone.” “What toy shield?” Katie asked. Hearing the exchange Steve looked up, grinning and she locked eyes with him, as he shrugged innocently.

“The toy shield that was in the pile of gifts you bought her, well she’s just thrown it straight at Gerald, the poor animal is traumatised!” Katie let out a sigh, rubbing at her forehead and out of the corner of her eye she saw Natasha, Steve and Emmy share a three-way-hi five, and she couldn’t help but smirk at the sight.

“Tony Stark 2, Spangles 2…” She grinned. “Merry Christmas, Tone.”

It turned out, however, that Natasha wasn’t about to let Steve get away completely, and the solder groaned where he sat with Jamie on his lap as they opened one of Jamie’s last gifts from his god- mother, which was a teddy bear wearing a Captain America shirt and a little plush shield, not unlike the one Steve had won Katie at Cony Island. Nat raised an eyebrow at Steve as Katie choked on her glass of wine but Jamie shrieked as Steve tried to take the bear off him for a closer look, ignoring the hundreds of other toys he was surrounded with.

“Jamie, that’s Cap.” Nat said as she sat on the floor, taking the bear from him and rubbing it gently in his face causing him to shriek with laughter. Steve simply shook his head and handed his son over to her.

“Suppose its better than that damned eagle.” He mumbled as he sat next to his wife who was opening the gift from Natasha to them. Both of them looked down at the photo frame which housed a number of pictures, some of which Katie and Steve didn’t even know existed. They went as far back as the first battle of New York in the shawarma joint, where they were both laughing at something. There was one taken in a bar in DC that Katie could remember, one of them cuddled up on the balcony of the tower, then some taken without their knowledge like a particularly nice one where Kate was sat on Steve’s lap on one of the couches at the tower during one of Tony’s parties. There were a few pages of their extended family as well, including Thor, Natasha, Clint, Wanda, Sam, and right bang in the middle was a photo of Steve, Katie, Emmy and Jamie, taken at Steve’s birthday in the summer.

“Nat,” Katie croaked, “it’s…”

“Fantastic.” Steve smiled, looking at her from where he had settled on the arm of the couch, arm extended along the back.

“Well, I saw the one in the hall and figured you could do with another to go with it.” Nat smiled, shrugging their thanks off as she referenced the large frame that Katie had made for Steve all those years ago.

Their newest photo collection was hung by the side of the already existing one the very next morning.

Everyone had warned both the new parents that time would fly by, and as they welcomed New Years in, this time as a five with Natasha, sitting in the garden all wrapped in blankets round the fire pit, both Katie and Steve realised that nothing else could be more truthful. As the fireworks erupted across the Brooklyn and Manhattan skyline, calling time on 2020, and Jamie’s first nine months of being alive Steve pulled his wife closer and she turned to face him.

“Happy new year, Soldier.” she whispered.

“Happy new year, Baby.” he replied softly, dropping a kiss to her lips.

**** Chapter 46

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x ofc #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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noonmutter · 3 years ago

Text

Introductions

Daily Writing Challenge 2021 Day 12: Ball/Gravestone

"It's gonna be a quiet meetin'. They're not...th' most talkative people, these days."

"No, I know, love, of course. I absolutely still want to do this. You're so brave for this and I'm so proud of you."

Leon couldn't hold in a chuckle at that. Valarin's open, whole-hearted support of him for what was, admittedly, a trip that Leon had made dozens of times by now was all but impossible to ignore. The reassurance wasn’t necessary, but he wasn’t about to ruin Val’s fun. He simply set a hand on his wee love's shoulder to momentarily silence him, and bent to kiss his forehead.

"Thank you, love. It's okay. I'm not gonna collapse, it's just...a li'l tense, sometimes. Bringin' somebody new..." He let himself trail off as he inspected the kit they'd brought with them. Valarin had brought the supplies for their lunch, and he'd brought a bag of gardening tools, along with a couple bouquets of marigolds at Val's insistence. Asking about the marigolds had opened up the floodgates, not that he minded; listening to Valarin get himself going about something he was passionate about was one of Leon’s favorite things.

"The marigolds are traditionally very important! You see, the land of the living can be confusing and difficult to navigate for spirits. We try to help them by providing strong sensory things to guide them. The marigolds have a strong smell, but I think their color is quite strong too! And the candles are a little lighthouse..."

The flowers had been a bit of a trick to avoid crushing once they'd left the road that would've led them across the border into Stranglethorn, but they'd managed. He still wasn't sure if mum and dad would actually like the marigolds, but he understood the importance of it being this specific kind of flower, now. It was both like and unlike the little ceremonies the Gilnean was familiar with.

"This is such a lovely area, too. I’m honestly so excited to see where your parents rest. I’ve not really seen many human gravesites. I’m interested to see how similar they are. I’d like to learn about Gilnean customs regarding it. I know that the Day of the Dead is more widespread now, so I’m sure your parents will enjoy the offerings all the same. And--Hey, are you doing okay? You’ve been a little quiet."

Leon paused, then gave a short shake of his head. "Just tryna make sure we don't get lost, hey?" It was a lame excuse for letting his mind wander, but Val let it pass, since they were tromping through an awful lot of dense foliage. Valarin was aware there was a moonwell not all that far from where they wandered, and though there was a ceasefire, it was still Alliance territory and he was still visibly not a night elf. The tension wasn't really there like it'd been during their trip to Aerie Peak, though; they were alone and nowhere near a proper settlement.

He almost asked another question before Leon stopped, pointed at a small cluster of bright purple blooms hugging the forest floor, and said, "We're 'ere." It was hard not to get excited all over again, but he wanted to be respectful of Leon's feelings, so he kept himself from squeaking and simply gave Leon his best 'I'm here for you' smile. Leon answered it with another kiss on his forehead. Val liked those kisses, even if they were usually Leon filling in a silence when he couldn't figure out what to say.

He watched Leon pull a ton of vines and push a ton of branches aside like a very sturdy set of curtains, and after a moment, rushed to assist. Together, they opened up a relatively worn footpath to a small clearing. Val couldn't help but gasp softly at the sight; it seemed like every square inch of the ground was covered in lilacs! Little purple flowers were everywhere, and the scent was almost overwhelming. Butterflies fluttered from blossom to blossom in every direction, and small clouds of them seemed to erupt every time he or Leon took a step. He found himself tiptoeing to try and avoid crushing anything almost immediately.

"Oh, Light, it's absolutely beautiful, Leon. You did this?" The thought was enough to bring tears to his eyes, but he tried not to let it, at least not yet. He knew he'd do plenty of crying before the day was out and he'd really rather not start again so soon. It was a little embarrassing, even if Leon said it wasn't. Just focus on not snagging your pants on anything, Valarin…

"Well, I mean, th' flowers did it on their own, mostly... flowers do tha'..." Leon looked sheepish as he deflected praise, "All I did was plant a couple an' leave 'em be. Lilacs 're 'ardy, easy thin's. Part o' why mum liked 'em so much." The Gilnean made his way carefully but quickly through the dense growth, well used to the path he took and not worrying overmuch about whether he was stomping flowers or butterflies; the flowers were going to be cut back anyway, and the butterflies were quicker than he was. Reaching the apparent edge of the clearing, Leon bent to set his hand on a particularly tall lilac bush, then abruptly tore away a few branches to reveal the carved wooden grave marker underneath it.

It was not a professional job, this marker, but it had definitely been a work of diligence and a high degree of effort. It was sanded down to a nearly glasslike smoothness, and it would probably shine like it once it was cleaned up. The uneven top edge of it suggested it had originally been a chunk of driftwood, but it’d been stained so dark that it was hard to be sure. Valarin was privately glad he’d gotten better at reading Common lettering; hand-carved stuff like this was a little tricky. “Bettany Marie Ambroce” caught a bit of light and practically glowed.

“Right. ‘Ere we are, then.”

“Oh, Leon,” Valarin said, “This is so lovely. This is your mother?” He knelt down beside the wood and brushed his fingertips over the lettering. “Hello, Missus Ambroce. I’m happy to meet you.”

“Yeah.” Leon didn’t really know how else to answer, but felt like that was woefully insufficient. “This’s mum.” Okay that was almost less helpful. He brushed his fingers along the lettering in much the same way Valarin had, mulling over a few things before he settled on a simple, “...You r’member Val’rin, right? I’ve talked about ‘im b’fore…” He risked a glance at his little love, offering a weak smile. “Only th’ good stuff, though. Promise.”

“It better have been!” Val flashed a playful grin and tossed his hair. “I am a perfect angel, after all.”

Chuckling, Leon set down the bag of tools and took out a pair of hedge trimmers, offering them to Valarin. “I’ll take care o’ th’ bigger messes, you clear out th’ stuff all over th’ ground, okay?”

“Wait, are we doing this entire clearing?”

“Course. Otherwise th’ lilacs’ll grow way too far an’ get completely outta control. It’s already bad enough cuz I waited longer’n I should’ve, I norm’ly come by ev’ry month or so.”

Valarin looked out across the small expanse of purple with a tiny bit less wonderment than he had the first time. This was a bit more work than he’d realized, but, he had to admit to himself, Leon had warned him. And he was bound and determined to help, regardless, so! Nothing for it but to roll up his sleeves and get to work. Leon had to restrain himself from grinning at the look of almost militant determination that Val got before he started clipping away.

“Cheer up, at least y’ don’t ‘ave t’ make it look pretty, too, hey?” He waggled his own pair of much smaller clippers, and gestured toward the high-piled bushes covering the pair of markers. “I’ll prune these down an’ then we’ll both tackle th’ rest of ‘em. It only takes about an hour if there’s two of us.”

“Isn’t this a bit much?”

“‘Ow d’you mean?”

“Well I’m going to end up killing most of these by cutting them back all…all willy-nilly, aren’t I?”

“Sure, but tha’s kinna th’ point. They can’t all keep growin’ or they’ll overtake more’n th’ forest kin afford, see? S’why I come back an’ clean it up at all. Can’t just plant whatever, wherever, or it throws th’ ‘ole balance outta whack. I’d be a worse druid than I already am if I just planted a bush an’ left it.”

“You are not a bad druid!”

Laughing, Leon pruned away, and Valarin attacked the rest of the lilacs with gusto.

Once they were roughly halfway through the clearing as a whole, Leon mercifully called for a break. Valarin was not at all accustomed to Leon in work mode, at least not like this; he knew the man could get lost in his leatherwork for hours, but that wasn’t quite so physically demanding as this. It was impressive, if a bit exhausting to keep up with.

They both sat down with a satisfied sigh, and Leon stretched his legs in the much more visible grass by the cleaned-up gravestones. Once properly polished, the lettering on both gleamed like it had been painted with gold:

Bettany Marie Ambroce Beloved wife and mother I’ll take it from here

Graeme Iain Ambroce Beloved husband and father I’ve got this

“Dad would’ve liked you, y’know.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Anybody ‘o kin keep up with an Ambroce’s bullshit is worth keepin’ an eye on, somethin’ like that.” Leon chuckled with a subdued smile, thinking back on various times when he’d heard that. Naturally, Graeme had been talking about his own wife, but still. It had merit. “‘Especially th’ wee ones.’ Mum was about yer ‘eight, I think.”

Valarin’s ears went back just a little. “I’m not that wee.” After a moment, though, he let himself chuckle, too. “Although I suppose it’s still a compliment. You said he was a mountain, anyway.”

That made Leon laugh, and he threw his arms out wide. “Oh yeah, an absolute fuckin’ behemoth, was dad. ‘E wrestled with steer at th’ yearly fairs, sometimes, an’...”

As much as Leon enjoyed listening to Valarin give impromptu dissertations, Valarin loved listening to Leon tell stories of his family and his home. Knowing that he’d never get to see either of them the way his boyfriend did, he clung to every word to try his best to imagine it, and let the farmboy ramble as long as he was willing to. He only dared to interrupt long enough to break out their picnic, which thankfully didn’t stop the flood at all.

Once they’d eaten and Leon had run out of tales to tell--some of which Valarin was sure had to be at least exaggerated, if not totally made up, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out which ones--they’d gotten back to work. It was almost agony to start over again, since they’d had enough time for their hands to start hurting. That only seemed to spur them to get done quicker so that they were able to put the tools away after what felt like no time at all.

While Leon was raking the detritus into a corner of the clearing, Valarin set to work by the markers.

First, Valarin set up a small collapsible bed tray in front of the markers themselves, and covered it with a white cloth. He set out a few candles and arranged the marigolds all around what would become their ofrenda. Upon the tray he left portions of the favored foods they had brought; raspberry tarts, beef pasties, fried taters, all sorts of things. Though they had no pictures of the deceased--Leon couldn’t bring himself to risk losing the only image he had of his entire family--it was the thought that counted for this.

Obviously, Leon wanted to help, but he also didn’t want to do things wrong (despite Valarin’s many and constant reminders that there was no wrong way to arrange an ofrenda), so he hung back until it was almost finished. At Valarin’s urging, Leon took up a long match, and they each lit a candle at the same time, one for each parent. Finally, a small bundle of marigold petals was pressed into Leon’s hands, and he awkwardly scattered them in a rough line from the ofrenda to the graves themselves. Valarin had already made one out of the clearing itself, and with Leon’s contribution, there was a complete path.

When he returned to Val’s side, Val immediately curled both arms around his waist and tugged him down till they were both seated in the grass before the ofrenda. There, Val could finally get the cuddles he so cherished. Leon smiled softly and dragged the insistent thing into his lap, the better to hug him close and rest his chin on top of Val’s head.

“So… what ‘appens now?”

“Now, you tell me more stories about them, and cuddle me, and I’ll tell you stories about mine, and cuddle you.”

“All night?”

“All night.”

“I think I kin do tha’.”

Though they couldn’t leave everything behind, the next morning, a pair of marigold-and-lilac wreaths hung from the wooden gravestones.

( @daily-writing-challenge @valarin-sunstorm )

#my writing #leon #valarin #valeon #mum and dad #collab #writing valarin in full Explain Mode is HARD so the mun helped :D #dwc

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spookyboywhump · 3 years ago

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Ok but hear me out- Zander sees an another dog bullying some small pet (or maybe a bait dog) and he protec. Zander like “pick on someone your own size) I’m just saying…

HEHEHEHE HE PROTECC!!!!

***

The boy was clearly a lap dog, Zander thought as he looked at him. He could tell just from one look, from the clean and expensive pretty clothing, to his big, scared eyes, he wasn’t a fighter. If he was, he wouldn’t be cornered right now, by three actual fighters who were looking at him hungrily, like wolves looking down on their prey. It pissed Zander off, and though he told himself to mind his own business and not get involved, he knew he couldn’t possibly do that.

“Aww, he’s cuter when he’s scared!” One of the dogs, a man named Leo, laughed. Zander already couldn’t stand Leo, he thought he was obnoxious and stupid, and his treatment of weaker or smaller pets did nothing to help his opinion of him.

“L-leave me alone…” The boy stammered, pressed against the wall as much as he could get, his eyes darting around as he looked for a way out of this. He was much smaller than the three others, much thinner, he certainly didn’t stand a chance if he wanted to fight his way out. One of the men grabbed his face, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“You really are adorable, you think we’ll listen to you?” He sneered, and the boy whimpered, trying to pull away.

“I said leave- leave me alone!” He said, trying to sound more serious, but that just caused the three of them to laugh. One of them grabbed him by the hair, jerking him away from the other man and laughing when he cried out in pain. It was the sound of his cry that finally forced Zander to his feet.

“He’d make a great bait dog.” Leo said, jabbing at the boy’s ribs with his finger. “Hold him still and I’ll take care of that pretty face of his.” He said, and the boy screamed as the other two quickly grabbed his arms, holding him in place.

“Stop!” He yelled, thrashing and kicking. “Let go! Please!” He begged, but he was quickly silenced by a hit to his jaw.

“Knock it off!” Zander snapped, already storming over to them.

“Wait your turn, mutt.” Leo growled at him, and Zander glared, grabbing him by the collar and roughly jerking him away.

“Leave the kid alone, the fuck is wrong with you?!” He snapped.

“Are you really going to try and play guard dog for some random bitch?” He snapped back.

“Look, I know you’ve been pretty shitty lately- what is it, three or four losses in a row now?” He said, unfazed by the way Leo growled and narrowed his eyes, “Picking on some lap dog isn’t going to help you, but I guess it’s the best you can do since anyone stronger would kick your ass!” He didn’t care that the man was getting angrier and angrier, if it kept his attention off the kid then that was fine by him.

“Watch your mouth, mutt.” He growled. “Fuck off and mind your own business, just because you defend him doesn’t make him your bitch.” He said, and without any hesitation Zander grabbed him by the collar again, holding him in place when he slammed his fist into his face, landing one blow after another before he let go and shoved him back, watching him writhe on the floor in pain, his hands covering his nose which was gushing blood. He looked to the other two who still held onto the boy, though they were looking at him fearfully now.

“Drop him.” He snarled, and they immediately let go, the boy falling to his knees while they went to Leo, helping him up and leading him away before a full fight could break out. Zander went and knelt down in front of the boy, who was holding his hand over where he’d been hit and sniffling, blinking back tears. “Hey…” He said softly, his tone changed completely from just a second before.

“I’m fine…” He whimpered, shying away from him at first. When he glanced at him, he could see that same look of fear in his eyes.

“Can I see? I won’t touch more than necessary, I promise.” He told him, and the boy let him pull his hand away, very gently brushing his thumb over his jawline. He winced, but nothing else, he was likely to have a nasty bruise in the morning though. “Looks like everything’s alright… are your arms okay? They looked like they were holding pretty tight.” He said, and the boy nodded. He glanced at his collar, which had a gold tag that simply read Bea in pretty lettering. He wondered if that was his real name.

“Th-thank you…” He said shakily after a few moments, and Zander nodded.

“They’re fucking idiots, Leo especially. Your owner should keep a better eye on you.” He said, and Bea gave him a look.

“I don’t- I don’t have an owner. Th-That man, he doesn’t own me.” He hissed, in that standard way a poor, resistant pet would. He had that fight in him, but Zander had a feeling it wouldn’t last long.

“Right. I’m sorry.” He said simply.

He stayed by Bea’s side, and at some point the boy shuffled closer, pressing himself up against him. Zander very carefully draped his arm around his shoulders, holding him close. He growled whenever another dog got too curious regarding Bea and got too close, and for the most part it kept them away from the pair. They didn’t say anything to each other, there wasn’t much to say, but Bea appreciated the protection, and Zander was happy to help somebody rather than hurt them.

#my writing #my oc’s #Zander #HIM SO PROTECTIVE #even random lapdogs get some niceness from Zander

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platypanthewriter · 4 years ago

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Secrets and Butterflies

Harringrove April prompt day 5, “Butterflies”--Max and Billy friendship, abuse depiction

At first, after the trailer showdown where Billy got his ass kicked by his little sister, he kinda wished she’d just tell his dad, and get it over with. Tell Neil Hargrove his son couldn’t be trusted not to punch a child, or beat a guy half to death, and let Billy take what was coming.

It was grating, knowing Max didn’t fear him anymore.

She made him wait picking her up, and she brought friends over, and if he turned the music up too loud, she just stomped into his room and turned it off, or reached right over the gearshift and turned it down. Billy snarled, and clenched his fists, and twitched every time she cleared her throat at dinner, waiting for her to triumph, but she mostly just ignored him—until she walked in on Billy and his dad.

Neil didn’t usually say anything much to Billy with Max in the house, was the thing. He’d make sideways comments—point out a mess, or a project Susan needed help with, or compliment the neighbor kids—but he didn’t lean in and clench his fingertips in the meat of Billy’s shoulder with Max there. He didn’t shove Billy into anything, with Max around, or twist Billy’s arm behind his back like this, while Billy swore, his face mashed into the hood of his car.

“Why did the cashier at Bradley’s Big Buy tell me you were good friends with his son?” Neil asked, in the impatient voice he got when the mail was late, or Susan burned dinner, or he was about to dislocate Billy’s shoulder.

“I don’t know,” Billy gasped. “Sir. I don’t—”

“What did she see, Billy?” his father asked, and Billy tried to think—he’d made so sure not to throw his arm around anyone, or spend too much time with a guy—“Did you hear the question, Billy?” his father asked, tightening his grip, and Billy’s boots scraped against the cement floor of the garage as he forgot himself and tried to squirm away.

“I don’t know,” he panted, his eyes tearing up with the twisting pain in his wrist and shoulder, and he blinked hard, gritting his teeth. “I don’t—I didn’t do anything, I swear, I didn’t—”

“Is that how you address your father?” his father asked, more softly, leaning harder, and Billy grunted with pain.

“No, sir,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m sorry—”

“I had thought we were past this,” his father said, and Billy heard a creak of hinges, and looked up to see Max glaring at them from the door of the garage, her mouth falling open. “I thought I was perfectly clear,” Neil said, and Billy nodded, swallowing, and trying to offset his crying like a fucking child by mouthing fuck off at Max.

She mouthed back something he couldn’t parse just as his dad shook him, forcing all his joints a little further, and Billy bit his lips on a yelp, his tears dripping sideways over his face, over his nose and across his cheek to smear against the hood of his car.

“I’ve been—I’ve been good, I haven’t done anything, I don’t know what the hell she thought she saw...sir,” Billy gritted out, and Neil sighed. Billy’s fingers were going numb.

Max turned on her heel and walked off, and Billy hated her, for a moment, for not giving a flying fuck. All the time Neil had spent making sure she didn’t see, and when she did see, she was fine with it.

Probably getting some popcorn, Billy thought, forcing down a laugh as more tears leaked out of his face, and snot dripped off his mustache. Off she went, glad her shitstain fag brother got what was coming. Neil took another breath—Billy shut his eyes, his breath catching in his throat—and then all of a sudden Susan screamed in the kitchen.

Billy’s dad slammed him down against the hood and walked quickly out of the garage, leaving Billy to swear under his breath, work his fingers, and push himself unsteadily to his feet. He kept a hand on the wall as he crept out, and down the hall to his room, laughing a little at his own idiocy as his heart pounded like he was escaping enemy soldiers.

He opened his window and leaned out, lighting a cigarette, and drawing deep breaths of the fresh air. “Shit,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead, and then his door opened, and he scrambled up, smacking his head hard on the edge of the raised window sash.

It was Max.

“Fuck you,” he muttered, sticking the cigarette in his mouth to hold his head with the hand his dad hadn’t been twisting, because that one was half pins-and-needles, and half numb.

“You sure about that?” she whispered, shutting the door. “I told Mom I saw a mouse so she’d scream.”

Billy’s brain kinda hit a speed bump with that one, and he stared at her, touching the spot where the window had hit, gingerly, and grimacing at the tenderness. “...the hell d’you mean,” he hissed.

“That’s what you meant,” she said, a little shakily, walking over and sitting on his bed like she owned the goddamn place. “You—you kept saying it was my fault, and I could tell he was pissed at you—that’s why, isn’t it.”

“The hell are you talking about,” Billy asked, his head pounding, and his shoulder feeling like it might snap right off like an action figure’s arm. “Actually, I don’t give a shit, get out—”

“When I told him you were parked with Matt Greeley,” she whispered, and Billy twitched. “I just…” she whispered, swallowing hard. “I just thought it was weird, you lying, you said you were on a date—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy grated out, his throat hurting.

“It was a date, wasn’t it,” she said, dropping her voice until it was barely audible. “You weren’t lying. It was a date with Matt Greeley.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Billy snarled at her, and she glowered back.

“And then he made you go outside to talk,” she whispered, “—but I didn’t—I th—I thought it was such a little thing. That’s why we moved out here, that’s why we live in the asscrack of nowhere, isn’t it.”

Billy took a long, deep drag on his cigarette, his heart thudding in his chest knowing she had more to hold over him, now.

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” she whispered, laughing a little. “I—I’m good at secrets, actually. See?” She sniffled wetly, and rubbed her nose with her sleeve. “You didn’t even know I had any.”

“Why the fuck would you help me,” Billy asked flatly, glaring at her freckled, tear-streaked face. “You wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire—”

“I didn’t know!” she hissed back, through bared teeth. “I didn’t fucking know you were queer, okay, jesus, I mean…” she groaned into her hands.

“...what,” he growled, tossing the butt of his cigarette out the window, and lighting another.

“You don’t tell me anything,” she muttered. “The hell was I supposed to know I was doing...that.”

That, he though, snorting a laugh. Upending his life. Making his dad go from barely tolerating Billy to hating him. Oh, that. There was a time, Billy thought, he’d have wanted to throw Max out a goddamn window, but he was too fucking tired. “Whatever,” he grunted.

“...one of the girls in my class’ older sister kissed another girl at this nun camp,” Max reported, eyes intent, and Billy snorted a laugh so hard he choked.

“What the fuck,” he said, between coughs, and wiped his eyes.

“And there’s David Bowie,” she said, glowering earnestly.

“...there is David Bowie,” he agreed, sitting back against the wall, and taking a long drag off his cigarette. Billy had read and reread the interview in Melody Maker over and over, unable to comprehend that somebody else had the same fucked-up feelings he had, and didn’t mind.

Billy blew out a long trail of smoke. “What’s your point, shitbird.”

“I don’t care if Steve Harrington gives you stomach butterflies,” she said, her eyes narrowing, as Billy sputtered and coughed some more. “And I swear I won’t tell.”

“I don’t—fucking—butterflies—” Billy spat, snarling, and her mouth quirked, dangerously close to a smile. “I don’t,” he growled. “Why the fuck would you bring Harrington up—”

“No reason,” she said, with a smirk, and he burned all over, with humiliation, but also because she’d lowered her voice again and glanced warily at the door, like she honest-to-christ wasn’t gonna tell Billy’s dad.

“...you tell anyone and I’ll end you,” he growled, letting himself slump back against the wall, just a little.

“...he didn’t use to pull that shit, did he,” she whispered, frowning at him again. “When we were kids. Before—before I snitched.”

Billy remembered getting slammed into walls, shoved around so he staggered, and the bruises from getting yanked around by the arm. He concentrated on the feeling of smoke in his mouth and lungs.

In the silence, Max whispered, “It’s worse now.”

“Shut up,” Billy hissed, on reflex.

She sighed heavily, and let herself flop back on his bed, like it was her fucking room, and Billy scowled over. “...it’s something, with Harrington,” she sighed.

“I don’t get butterflies,” Billy hissed, his face heating, and she started snickering.

“Whaddya get,” she whispered, propping herself up on her elbows to snigger at him. “Something tough? You get Death's-head moths?”

She was still laughing, so he glared harder, even though the name sounded cool. “The fuck is that,” he muttered.

“Roaches are tough,” she whispered, cupping her mouth with a glance at the door, and he snorted a laugh, and leaned to kick a leg of the bed, so she squeaked.

“I don’t have bugs, Maxine,” he grunted, and it felt...good, hearing her muffle cackles in his blanket, like it hadn’t felt since she’d sliced open his deepest, darkest secret, letting it spill out in front of everyone like a slashed vein, red and unmistakable. He took another deep breath, and leaned his head back, listening to the sounds outside the window—cars, and the wind in the late Indiana spring.

“We hang out with Harrington, sometimes,” she said, to the ceiling, with a sigh that sounded as tired as Billy felt. “You can gimme a ride. See if they’re roaches or butterflies or whatever. Stomach slugs.”

“Fuck you,” he told her, and she laughed, softly. “...it’s not butterflies,” he said again.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done

#Harringrove #Harringrove April #Max and Billy #Missing scene of sorts #Neil's abuse #Teasing

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction || Losing Weight [TW]

A/N: Before this started please remember that you are all beautiful in every way possible. Everyone comes in different shapes and sizes and you should love yourself for you!! In the wise wise words of Rupaul, Love yourself first cause if you can’t love yourself how in the hell are you gonna love somebody else! THAT BEING SAID! I love you all!!! Again no one will be tagged because I don’t want to upset anyone.

WARNINGS: Mentions of bad weight lost habits, diet pills, negative thoughts about S/O and mentions of ED please don’t read if you are triggered by any of those things

Seokjin:

Jin hadn't noticed until it was too late until you were pale and were getting sick far too often for anything to be a coincidence anymore. You were starting to get tired quicker from the smallest of things, running up the stairs resulted in you holding your knees and trying to catch your breath, a common cold was currently making you feel as though you needed to be hospitalised because your body wasn't fighting the bug off. It didn't have the energy to do so and your immune system wasn't healthy enough.

"Baby, we should take you to the doctor." He whispered as he sat beside you on the bed, he took off the wet cloth he'd applied two hours ago and replaced it with a cold wet one to try and keep your temperature down.

"I'm fine Jin, it's just a bug." He stared at you as you tried to sit up in the bed but failed to do so,

"A bug that took me three days to kick-off, you've been this way for a week." You rolled your eyes at him and shivered, he wrapped the duvet around you and shook his head at you.

"You have to see someone," You looked up at him and you could tell he was really worried but it was just your new diet plan...Or at least that's what you kept telling yourself. It was the new fasting diet plan you were trying out but no one had told you that since you weren't used to it your body would react poorly.

"You're not eating enough." He commented as he looked at the plate of half-eaten food beside the bed.

"It's not my eating time, I can't-"

"I don't want to hear that anymore, if you want to go on a diet we will go on a better and healthier one together but for now I want you to eat and get better." He didn't snap at you but you knew he meant what he was saying, he was red in the face kind of like he was whenever he yelled at one of the younger members when they did something bad or something he didn't like.

"Jin-"

"Please, it's killing me to see you like this. You're perfect in every way to me." You stared at him as he went on to list everything he loved about you,

"Your personality made me fall for you but then you, your positivity it made me fall harder. I thought you loved the skin you were in?" You looked down at your hands, you were losing the weight faster than you intended and you were only looking to tone your body.

"I do I just- I wanted to tone up and look good for you." He groaned laying his head on your shoulder and then pulling your hand to his lips, leaving a small kiss on the top of it.

"You always look good for me, you could walk into my room in a bin bag and messy hair and you would look good." You stared at him from the corner of your eye and then looked at yourself in the mirror beside the bed. He was right, you knew he was right he was Jin he was always right.

"I'm sorry, I promise I'll come off the stupid diet and eat properly," He nodded and looked up at you,

"We can start joining Jungkookie in the gym if you want." You nodded as you yawned out and closed your eyes feeling tired thanks to the painkillers the doctor had put you on for the cold.

Yoongi:

"Painkillers?" Yoongi asked when he woke up the next morning with a hangover from the night before. You'd all gone out drinking to celebrate his D-2 release and it ended up turning into an afterparty back at your apartment where you both promptly passed out in your shared apartment bed.

"Top shelf of the bathroom cabinet." You mumbled into the pillow not having the energy to go and get them for him, you felt the bed shift and then you heard the door so you knew he'd gone for himself.

"Can you get me some too?" You called out as you sat up in the bed, you stared at the mattress in front of you holding your head and trying not to fall over. The room still felt as though it was spinning and you were going to vomit at any moment.

"Sure, which bottle-" He cut himself off when he poured the contents of what said painkillers into his hand, but inside were little red pills. He knew them anywhere, he'd seen other idols taking them before.

"What did you say?" You looked up to see him standing in the doorway between the bathroom and bedroom holding a handful of the pills in front of you. You gulped and he waited for an explanation from you,

"They're just to help me lose some weight." He stared at you waiting for you to continue but you didn't,

"How long have you been taking them?" He asked taking the ones in his hand and the ones in the bottle and dumping them into the bin.

"Yoongi!" You yelled out but he wasn't bothered he stared at you,

"Well?"

"Four weeks," He stared at you and then at the bin,

"Why?"

"I just wanted to lose a little weight," He looked you up and down and he noticed how different you looked. You were losing weight but it wasn't a healthy way to do it,

"Why the pills?" You felt like you were under interrogation so you laid back down on the bed and closed your eyes wanting him to drop the subject but he wasn't going to. The bed shifted as he got in next to you, he rolled you over so your head was laying on his thigh and he rubbed your shoulder blades.

"Do you understand why I'm being like this, do you know how dangerous they can be?! You could have been hurt and I wouldn't even know what to tell the doctor because I didn't know you were-" He stopped talking once he saw you staring up at him, you weren't in the mood for the rant he was about to do and you just wanted to sleep away the hangover.

"There are healthier ways of losing weight." He whispered and you nodded in agreement with him, you knew there were better and healthier ways then what you were doing but nothing worked quite as much as they did.

"They stop me snacking." He glared at you as you tried to defend your actions,

"They also can raise your blood pressure to high levels. You knew he was doing this for your own good but you still hated how right he was about it all, he laid down with you and kissed your forehead.

"We'll start working out together if you want to lose weight, you can come with me to the gym."

"You hate me watching you work out."

"I'll make an exception." He whispered to you but you nodded in agreement with him, working out with Yoongi did seem like a good idea.

Hoseok:

It wasn't Hoseok that had noticed what was happening with you at first, it was Army. Your relationship with Hobi had been out in the open for the last year and they adored you, you would keep them updated on anything and everything you were allowed to. Always checking with Hoseok first though in case you weren't supposed to tell them something like the time you almost leaked Hope World to everyone who followed you. Army was starting to worry about you though, with every new picture you posted to Instagram you were starting to look skinner and you had stated you were trying to lose weight but this seemed too fast to everyone that was following you so they started to call you out on it. You ignored the comments but Hoseok who had a private account saw the comments and started to notice himself that you were losing too much too fast.

"Hey baby, did you enjoy lunch?" He asked one day when he came in from work, you rolled up the yoga mat you'd been using to work out on and nodded.

"It was lovely, thank you Hobi." He stared at the back of your head, you were lying and he only knew that because he hadn't made you lunch that day to try and trip you up on it.

"It's funny though, well not funny but weird..." You turned to look at him with a frown, he dropped his bag onto the floor and watched as you put your work out things away.

"I didn't make you lunch today." You felt your stomach sink as you realised he was catching on to what you were doing,

"I just skip lunch Hobi, that's all." He hummed and followed you into the kitchen,

"Did you have breakfast?" You stared at him from across the kitchen and he knew then that you didn't, you were never good at lying and especially to your boyfriend Hoseok.

"Why?" You looked down at the floor trying not to cry over something like this, it was something you dealt with a lot and so did other people but it didn't make the subject easy to talk about.

"I don't like the way I look Hobi..." He walked over to you and wrapped his arms around you, he knew there was nothing he could say in this situation to make you feel better so he did the best he could to help you.

"Losing weight this way is harmful, I know you've probably heard it all before but this is a bad way of doing it...Let me help you if you want to change." You nodded along with him and he kissed the top of your head,

"But you have to eat so your body has the nutrients it needs to help you lose weight." The rest of the night you came up with a diet plan together, something that you would feel comfortable with and then you wrote a workout plan, planning to go with him to dance practise twice a week to have a little extra workout together.

Namjoon:

The moment it became clear to Namjoon what you were doing he wanted to help you but he knew a direct approach wasn't going to work with you, you'd never been good with people coming right at you with information, you had to be shown that what was happening wasn't good. So he started by skipping meals with you just until you would notice he wasn't eating like he had with you, he stopped having breakfast like you, then lunch and that's when you picked up on it, he was sitting up in his studio at home working and you found the food you'd made him was still sitting in the fridge and he hadn't touched any of it,

"Was your food not okay?" You questioned coming into his home studio, he looked up to see the food you'd made him still in the small lunch box and he shrugged his shoulders.

"I wasn't hungry." You walked back out of the room without questioning him again and he felt bad already for doing this to you. He felt awful for not eating your food but he knew he had to make you realise this wasn't a good way to lose weight and this was the only way to get it through to you.

(X)

"You're not hungry again? Shall I call a doctor, you look pale." You panicked rushing over to Namjoon later that night, you'd offered to cook him something to eat claiming that you'd already eaten but it wasn't true and Namjoon knew that and he was upset that you'd lied to him about it.

"No, baby...Don't you see what I'm doing?" You shook your head and he groaned at you, he took your hands in his and sat you down on the chair that was in front of him.

"I know you've been skipping meals and I want to know why." You stared up at him, his eyes were tearing up and you knew he was upset over the fact that you'd been doing this to yourself,

"I was just trying to lose weight."

"Why not go onto a diet? Or work out more, you don't have to skip meals, it doesn't work." You looked at the floor, he was right and you knew that. You'd done all the research you could on losing weight and you knew what worked and what didn't but this was working for a short time,

"It'll work now but once you start eating normally again your body will retain everything and you'll build the weight back up," He'd been doing his research, he wanted to be able to talk to you about this properly he didn't want to come charging at you without any information to help you with.

"I know-"

"So why are you doing it?" You didn't have a real answer for him, you knew what you were doing wasn't going to work but it was working then and there and you wanted results fast.

"Your weight will bounce up and down while you do this...But I promise you if you want to lose weight we can do it together in a healthier way, we'll start going out on more walks? We'll-" You cut him off by kissing him on the cheek and he stared at you,

"Thanks, Namjoon, I promise I'll start looking after myself." And you meant it, you were going to take his advice and look after yourself.

Jimin:

Jimin was overjoyed when you told him you wanted to start dancing with him and it was fun at first but as time went on he began to notice something odd about you. You looked paler than usual and with every dance routine it was taking you longer and longer to recover and move onto the next one, you were out of breath and practically dying on the floor for air.

"We should take a break." He said one day looking at you panting against the mirror but you threw your hair back into a ponytail and that's when he noticed the bruises. There were small purple bruises lining your wrists and hips.

"What the fuck?!" He called out a little louder than he probably should have because Hoseok looked up from his phone on the other side of the room, you stared at him from the mirror and then noticed what he was staring at.

"You and Jimin going a little too hard at night?" Hoseok joked getting up to leave the room, he left and Jimin rushed to your side examining the bruises but they weren't from him or from the bedroom.

"I bruise easy." Which wasn't a lie, since starting the new diet you were on you had started to bruise easier than normal so he stared at you.

"What do you mean? You used to bang your legs and never have a bruise." You looked at your skin and ran your fingers along the bruises.

"I cut meat out of my diet, I'm probably just not used to it, I'll get some supplements and multivitamins." He stared at you as you went back to the stereo ready to start the next dance but he turned off the music the moment you started it and you frowned.

"Jimin what's the-" You stopped when he lifted the corners of your shirt up to reveal your stomach to him,

"What are you doing?" He sat down on the floor and pulled you into his chest, he felt awful and that he was the worst boyfriend in the world for not noticing until that point.

"What did you have for breakfast?" He asked rubbing your head,

"Nothing, I never eat breakfast." He nodded in agreement, he knew that. You hadn't eaten breakfast in the three years you'd been together so that was nothing new to him.

"What did you have fun lunch?" You pushed him away from you and stared at him,

"You were with me, what is this about?" He stared at you as he tried to remember what you'd had that day at lunch but he couldn't remember anything.

"You had coffee? A black coffee? That was your lunch?" You stared at the floor as he began to catch on to what was happening and then he forced your head up to look at him in the eyes.

"You are perfect-"

"Jimin stop," You said trying to push his hands off you but he held them steady on your head and kept your eyes trained on him.

"Listen to me, you're perfect okay? You don't need to start skipping meals or working out harder." You looked at him and he sighed he knew that you weren't going to listen to him but he wanted to be able to let you know how he felt about this.

"If you really want to lose weight, which you don't need to, I'll come up with a diet plan for us, we can do it together." You shook your head at his suggestion,

"Jimin you're hot, look at you! Your body! You're just- You're everything and I just- I want to look good enough for you." He blinked at you and then shook his head.

"You're good enough for me, fuck that, you're more than good enough for me." You began tearing up and he pulled you into his arms,

"Just promise me you'll start eating again and taking breaks, please." You promised to go back to meals and he continued to hold you on the floor while you talked about everything.

Taehyung:

You were standing in front of the mirror measuring your body and jotting them down into a notebook when Taehyung came home, you hadn't heard him come in and so he watched through the gap in the door and everything started to make sense to him. You'd stopped having breakfast and for lunch, you were having shakes that he didn't think were good for you but you continued to have anyway because they helped you. The more he thought about it the more he couldn't remember the last time you had a real meal, he snuck back down the stairs and slammed the front door.

"I'm home! Making dinner!" He yelled going straight into the kitchen and started getting things ready, you came bouncing down the staircase to him and hugged him from behind.

"I'm not hungry baby, but why don't you go and have a shower and I'll cook you something." He shook his head insisting that he would cook for the night and he wanted you to have a nice long bubble bath.

While you were in the bath and the food was cooking he snuck up to your shared bedroom to find the notebook you'd been writing in, he found it stuffed between three different books on your nightstand and he flicked through. Finding photos of you and then measurements beside it he heard the bathroom door unlock so he raced down the stairs with the notebook in his hands.

(X)

Halfway through the meal he watched you, he wanted to make sure you were at least eating something but he noticed you'd only eaten the vegetables,

"I found a book I like." He started and you looked up at him,

"What book?" He walked over to where he'd hidden your notebook and placed it in front of you tapping his fingers on the front, your eyes widened as soon as you saw the writing on the front and you swallowed hard looking back up to his face which was full of concern.

"I just want to know why." You looked back at the notebook and then back to Taehyung trying to think of something to tell him to make the situation lighter but there was nothing, you were trying to lose weight and you weren't doing in the best way.

"I wanted to-"

"I know what you wanted to do but I just want to know why this way, why not a different and healthier way?" You felt bad for the way that Taehyung was looking at you and you knew you'd hurt his feelings by doing something that could have been dangerous to you. All he wanted to do was protect you and he felt as though he was failing now, you looked at the photos in the book and then back up to Tae.

"There are better ways," He promised you taking the book and putting it into the kitchen bin beside him, you knew he was telling the truth and that there were going to be better ways to keep the weight off and still be healthier and he was going to sit and come up with a plan for you. After telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved you and how you looked and that you only have to change if you wanted to.

Jungkook:

Everyone knew how much of a work out freak that Jungkook was, he was always at the gym and when he wasn't he was doing at home workouts and that's how it started, you started feeling insecure because of how fit your boyfriend was and you decided that you wanted to be fit with him. Jungkook hadn't noticed at first that you were losing weight dramatically, he saw you working out with him and going to the gym more but Namjoon had noticed for him and mentioned it to the maknae that it could be dangerous for you. Since then Jungkook had been keeping an eye on you, what you ate when you worked out and what you did between, he wanted to make sure you were staying healthy. You were standing in the gym together and while someone was spotting him you went onto the treadmill to go for a run, you knew how long Jungkook was on the weights because he focussed on building his body while you focused more and losing what you already had.

"Be careful," Jungkook called out to you, he'd noticed you'd skipped lunch that day and he wasn't too sure about you coming with him to the gym but he couldn't say no without making it look like he was suspecting you, he wanted to be sure that you were doing what he thought you were doing even though it was worrying him so much.

"I always am." You yelled back cranking up the speed and turning from a jog to a sprint within a couple of seconds. Jungkook kept an eye on you and noticed that you were starting to look pale and your body was swaying a little,

"I'm done." He put down the weight and rushed to your side just in time as you slipped on the belt and fell backwards off the treadmill, the machine shut down and you sat up from the floor. Jungkook cradled you in his arms and you tried to stand up,

"I'll go again." Jungkook pushed you back down into his arms and sighed at you, Namjoon was right you were going too far with it and it was starting to worry him.

"We'll go home." He helped you walk into the changing room to get you some water and to get changed,

"Kookie I'm fine I just-"

"You're not fine!" He snapped as you were alone in the changing rooms, you stared up at him he'd never been this angry with you before and it was unsettling to you.

"I've been worried sick and so has Namjoon, he noticed you were skipping meals and how much weight you were losing...Y/n, don't you see what just happened?" You looked down at the floor, you'd hoped no one had noticed that you'd skipped meals or started working out harder than you should have but someone had.

"Kookie-"

"Don't, okay? I thought that maybe Namjoon was seeing things but you just nearly passed out Y/n, don't you see how bad this is now?" You looked at him and nodded, of course you saw how bad it was.

"But I was doing well, I was losing weight." He sighed at you and took your hands into his,

"You'll only put it back on the moment you start eating again, you have to eat regularly and work out, that way your body will have the right things to burn while you're working out and you'll stay healthy...Won't pass out like you almost did in there." You nodded in agreement with him and he sighed pulling you into his arms trying to come up with some kind of diet plan for you both so you would stay healthy with him and still feel good about yourself.

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vanchlo · 4 years ago

Text

The Partner / Chapter Nine, "The Perte"

Word Count: 7.6k / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: Carried Me With You by Brandi Carlile from Onward (click to listen) / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death

"I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never without it (anywhere I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)"

- I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) by E.E. Cummings

“Mum?” a voice comes, but it only drifts over the top, as if a bird over a courtyard of school children. I feel like one hovering over them, able to make out some words, but not all of them. When I try to focus harder, I catch a few more. “The last time, you said Daddy had that case with Uncle MyMy, but you stayed home, so what’d you do? Was that when you were pregnant with me?”

Quickly, I lifted my wings and soared back overhead, regretfully dipping to hear what I did. It came to me as a shock, and still it didn’t. I had made up excuses every night for the last few days to not have to continue telling this story, our story. Her siblings’ soccer games and our Sunday family dinner worked well for that, but the guilt could never escape me for long. It would only worsen when I stopped for a second to look into her eyes, a pair far familiar. Was it the cerulean blue shade that I saw in the mirror, or the glinting sunshine born from her father’s? This time, I let myself look and I realized again how she looks more and more like him every day. The almond eyes that wait patiently, the smallest of dimples accompanying her excited grin, and the dark chocolate curls falling around her face. Her stubbornness especially. Still, I wondered how much she knew, but even more, how much this would upset her. The truth.

“Becks?” it came and with it, a hand falling into my hair. The hammering of my heart that I didn’t notice starts to calm at the gesture, and the always safe sunshine that I find in his smile. Yet, I see it there, the knowing. The truth. “Do you want my help telling this one?”

“Please, Harry.”

Perte: loss, ruin, undoing; the act or fact of losing.

It all started with a jolt, and then a wave of pain. Stirring, I slowly came to, remembering that I was in bed. The feeling lingered and so did another one that I couldn’t ignore. I knew this feeling and the secretive one that accompanied it. My feeling. They both were instinctive to me, dating back to my earliest memories. Pain and wetness. At the realization, my sleep-doused eyes flew open. I wasn’t sure how long I lied there, feeling it all as I refused to do just that, to feel.

I thought that I knew before I did it, but when I reached my hand in between my legs, my wildest fears were confirmed. No, I knew I hadn’t wet the bed at the ripe age of twenty-whatever I was now. When I lifted it from the toasty warm covers, the morning sun pouring in past the shades confirmed my worst nightmare. The shock of smeared red stared back at me from my hand, and my heart plummeted into smithereens.

I wasn’t sure what I did first. Was it ripping the covers back to have it all confirmed for me? Or was it the wetness that flooded my eyes instantaneously, blurring the small red puddle that had formed underneath me? No, it was the one word that flew from my lips incessantly.

No.

No, this couldn’t be happening.

No.

Harry.

I’d never be able to retell what happened next because every second melted into each other, every single one unable to ever recount. And yet, at the same time, every second felt like a minute. Time slowed down at the one moment that it didn’t need to. Reaching for my phone felt like it took five minutes, and pressing his name in my contacts took longer.

I didn’t remember getting out of bed and settling onto the cold tile floor of the bathroom. It was a scene that I knew all too well, but no, not like this. I’d never thought it would be because of this, our baby dying instead of it reminding me it was alive by the way I’d knelt over the toilet, time and time again.

“Please, answer. Please,” the plea is thick and choked from my mouth, because it couldn’t be anything more. There is nothing more, so what would I even say if he answered. Part of me wished that he wouldn’t, because I can’t tell him. I can’t hear it in his voice, the-

“Hey, this is Harry. If you’ve gotten this far, it means that I missed your call. Sorry! Leave a message, and I’ll get back to you,” my favorite sound in the whole entire world greets my ears, and somehow, my reaction is to curl into myself further. To cry harder and louder. I don’t know what to say, and so I don’t.

It’s only a repeat when I dial his work phone, despite how he’d kept saying he meant to get rid of it. I find myself agreeing with him, seeing how he never answers it, when I press End yet again, fleeing from the terrifying sound of the electronic beep, knowing that there’s no way. I try once more and listen to his voice again, and his exclaimed sorry, knowing what two phone calls means. An emergency.

“Hello?”

“Skye,” it’s a sigh, and I don’t know where it’s come from. Maybe it’s just because somebody finally picked up.

“Ree? It’s nearly seven, you know I don’t get up this early.”

“I-I’m sorry, but-,” the words stop there, stolen away by the wave of pain attacking my abdomen. It spurs another sob from my chest, because I made the mistake again. When I pull my hand away this time, the red is darker on my palm. “Skye, I need you t-to come.”

“Why, is everything alright, Ree?”

“N-No,” I stammer, feeling the way my lips shake underneath the weight of my impending words. Much like the trembling of my fingers, a droplet of scarlet falling down my hand. “I think . . I think I’m l-losing the baby.”

“Oh my God,” something catches in her voice, and it opens a door inside of me. Anything and everything I’d been holding back storms out of them. My head feels twenty pounds heavier than a moment ago, only growing as I finally tip it to my fall against my knees. “H-Have you called Harry?”

“Yeah, b-but he’s due to be in court again. He didn’t answer.”

“Okay . . Well, I’m sure he’ll call back soon. D-Do you think you can drive yourself? If not-,” she begins, voice distraught with worry.

I try to ignore it, but it’s all too much coming at me. None of it compares to the sour feeling born in my gut when against my thighs I feel the little bump of my belly. Inhaling quickly, my lungs struggle for air as I sob again, aware of the growing wetness between my legs, “N-No.”

“That’s fine, not a worry. I’m grabbing my purse and putting on some clothes right now. I’ll be leaving in a minute and it shouldn’t take me long to get there. I’m sure everything will be alright, I’ve heard of women having spotting during their pregnancy, it’s-.”

“It’s not, Skye. There’s s-so much blood and I . . I just know,” all I see is blackness as the words tear a hole inside of me, one started just moments ago. Her voice is absent from my ears, but then something else replaces it. When I pull my phone away to see what it is, it’s torn bigger in my chest when his face grows hazy in front of me. “It’s Harry. I-I-.”

“Answer it. I’m leaving right now, I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay,” my voice is small, and when I press the button and hear his voice, it’s nearly nonexistent. Because I know it’s not okay.

“Becks. Hey, it’s me. I’m sorry I didn’t answer before, I just got to the courts building,” I hear it, the normalcy to his voice. The very thing that I’m going to crush when I say those words. There’s the murmur of voices around him, and with a shaky breath, I wish it didn’t have to be like this. Why does it always have to be so wrong and unfair? Our whole entire relationship was riddled with it, and it’s not- “Honey, you still there? I see you called twice, is everything okay?”

My head is shaking and I don’t even notice it at first. Neither did I decide to keep my crying silent, knowing that he’d pick up on it. He would know with the first word and at the sound of my voice that something was really wrong. I didn’t want to do that to him. Sometimes, and especially at first, I knew that he’d wanted this more than me.

“Alright, Becks? . . You’re worrying me, bug,” he continues, and suddenly, the voices around him are gone. I hear another, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. I know them, though. “I know, My, just give me a minute, alright? It’s important. Becks, are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

No drink of water could cure the dryness of my throat, or wash away the knot that had grown in it. How? In this whole entire world of words, how could I tell him? Even at the beginning, I’d never wanted to hurt him, because it brought me pain too.

“No,” the word comes, and I felt guilty that I had been thinking it more than the one all of this was about. The next one I needed to say. Baby. “I don’t think . . the b-baby’s okay,” only now did I realize the galloping of my heart or the itchy warmth that had climbed my entire body.

“Becks,” his voice comes quicker than I thought it would, and so is the way it drowns in the feelings that I placed there. Because, after all, this is my fault for having to say those words.

Prints of red become permanent on my shirt when my shaking fingers settle on the roundness of my stomach at last. My lips refuse to stay still, even when they sing from pain when they press tightly to each other, “You need to come home, Harry- You h-have to.”

His intake of air is unmistakable, much like the next course of agony that wraps around my abdomen suddenly. I unhide them now, letting my cries free to the air, and to his ears. It’s to my surprise and all others that I let spill the very thing we both knew was happening, but I couldn’t say. How I’d said it for the first time to Skye, I didn’t know, especially now that it felt like the first time, all over again.

“I th-think I’m l-losing the baby, Harry-.”

“You don’t know that,” his usual molasses voice is stretched thin with tears filling its numerous cracks.

“But I do,” I whisper, unable to get my chest to stop shaking.

“C-Can you get yourself to the . . to the hospital, do you think?” it only makes my body shake harder, the sound of his voice drowning in the sadness that I’d caused.

“Skye’s on her way.”

“Good, good . . ,” he trails off, sniffles replacing his voice. I don’t know which is better, or how to even decide that. “I haven’t seen the judge come in yet, b-but I’ll . . I’ll grab him when I do and tell him what’s going on- or see if Myles could manage on his own. It’s a two and a half hour drive, though.”

“It’s okay.”

“But it’s not, Becks,” he almost wails, and the hole grows wider at the sound of him breaking.

“I know it’s not, Harry, but . . I don’t think two and a half hours is going to make any difference.”

“You can’t say that, because you don’t know. What if there’s something they could do to save them? To save t-the baby?” the next crash through my middle doesn’t even compare to the agony coursing through my body at the sound of his voice. It all only piles onto each other, and I wish I could make it stop. That I could end it all.

“There’s too much, Harry . . too much blood . . for them to be okay. I-I just know it.”

The smell of tears had long ago surrounded me, and now his miserable sobs fills my ears.

“I’m so s-sorry, Becks.”

“You don’t have to be. You didn’t d-do anything, Harry,” I try, but I can’t. My voice won’t go any louder, despite the shouting aches of my heart. The background pleas my mind makes.

Please be okay, baby. Please somehow be okay. For us. We want to meet you so badly. We already love you so much.

“But I-I should be there, Becks, not two bloody hours away.”

“I’m not even four months, Harry, i-it’s common.”

“Stop,” he sighs, and I never knew it could be so painful, a simple word. A breath, that to keep breathing could prove so laborious.

“I want to, and I wish I could, but it’s t-the truth. Deep down, I know it,” it continues to pour out, and I’m unsure of how to stop it. I wish I had the key to lock the door and make it all do just that, to stop.

“Becks,” Harry cries.

“Harry.”

“I don’t want to hang up, b-but I have to talk to Myles so I can leave a-and come . . come home.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper, the appearance of our bathroom materializing before me. Those are the furthest from my mind when my head dips and I see that color again, knowing what sits underneath it. Our baby.

“I-I’ll call you back once I’m leaving, okay?”

I try to say that word, but my lips won’t move. No, not when the pain becomes constant inside of me, drawing blood from my lip underneath my teeth.

“I love you, Becks.”

“I love you . . Harry,” I croak, hearing the words repeated inside of my head, and then they come through the phone.

“I love you, little baby, so much. Mommy and Daddy love you more than anything in this world. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise, Becks, it will be. I’ll make sure of it. I’ll be home soon, t-text me with updates. Love you, buggie.”

I listen to the dial tone, knowing already that it never will be. No, we had come back from hell too many times now. I knew we wouldn’t make it again, maybe him, but not me. As I listened to the sound of the door opening downstairs and Skye’s subsequent shouting of my name, my eyes couldn’t unglue themselves from my belly. And I couldn’t stop thinking that there was no way in hell that I could ever feel okay again, knowing that our baby was dying inside of me.

It didn’t register with me, the voice needling at my ears until I felt his hand on my shoulder. “Hare, what is it?”

“Wh-What?” my reply is lost on my lips, immediately stammered. Jolting around, I didn’t think anything could shake me after that, but another wave comes at the shadow that comes across his face.

“Hey, what’d Becky say?” Myles asks frantically, his hand cupping my shoulder. I just blink, it’s all that I can do, staring at him. It feels like I’ve forgotten how to speak, and suddenly, how to stand, as well. “Harry, watch it- Here, sit down.”

I hear the piercing squeak of the chair dragged across the floor, but it’s just that, it doesn’t reach me. His figure crouched in front of me is blurry, but as the tepid wetness graces my cheeks, I realize it’s for more than one reason.

“Hare-.”

“I-I don’t understand, everything was . . ,” but they catch in my throat and stop there. “Everything was perfect.”

“You don’t understand what? What’s happened, mate?” he continues, urgency propelling his voice forward. It had taken me a while, but I remember it, the woozy feeling that had covered me like a darkness the second she’d said those words. I’m unsure if it could ever be lifted- no, not by anybody but her.

“Becks-,” I mutter, getting to my feet, but that wasn’t a good idea, I soon find.

“H-Hey, sit down, would you? Take a minute to collect yourself. You still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time, My’. I need t’ get home.”

“Why, Harry?” Myles asks, grabbing hold of my arm when I’ve already taken a few steps. “Hey, would you mind telling me what the hell’s going on here? We have a case to argue in twenty minutes, Hare. I’ll understand if you need to go, but can you at least tell me why?” it’s monumental, the look that knits his features together when I turn around again. Another bout of tears splashes onto my cheeks, and my lips shake from what I know I’ll have to say.

“My’,” I begin, but that’s the furthest that I can get. The tears have already swallowed that first syllable, and threaten to steal any more.

“Hare,” his voice, the one I know better than almost any other, is but the wisp of a feather. At that thought, her smiling face appears in my mind, and my chest shakes at the remembrance of hearing her break from the inside just now. “It’s not- is it the baby?”

My head is nodding wildly before I can think of what to say. I don’t bother with it, because suddenly the little air left in me is whisked away when his arms come around me. Apologies fly from his lips as tears coat mine. It’s all a blur wetted by tears and rushed with words, and before I know it, I’m looking at him over my shoulder as I walk away. Her beautiful face is stuck behind my eyes, the very day that we first heard our baby’s heartbeat. Something I may never get to hear again, and a smile I fear I’ve seen the last of.

It was more than a mess, trying to figure out where the hell I was going whilst the morning commuters plugged the freeways. But after I put Home in my GPS and got going, I was on my way, unsure of how I’d survive the next two and a half hours knowing what I did. Being on my way to one of my worst nightmares, and yet, I couldn’t get home fast enough. I’d be by her side with a snap of my fingers, if only I could.

The blunt ringing of my phone fills the empty car around me, that is until the sound of my heart in my ears returns at the sound of her voicemail. Fuck. No, Becks, please answer. I need to hear your voice, know that you’re okay- No, wait, you’re not. How could you ever be? I don’t even know if I am, or if I could be. I- The first hint of relief graces my lungs when the trill of my ringtone sounds, her name appearing on the touchscreen.

“Hello? Becks?”

“Hey, Harry. Sorry, it’s me.”

“Oh. Um, hi, Skye. Where’s Becks?” I nearly demand, holding back a curse when I pull up on the rear of a Ford Explorer, hastily changing lanes.

“She’s in the exam room. I just stepped out to take your call. There’s a nurse in there speaking with her, and doing well, an exam. She’s assessing, as she said, how soon she needs to see a doctor.”

“What d’ya mean how soon she needs t’ see one? I bloody well reckon she should be seein’ one now!” the words explode from my lips, nearly echoing inside the car with me.

“They’re her words, Harry, not mine. I told them the same exact thing, but- I dunno, it’s their protocol or something, she said. Beats me what’s priority to them in the Emergency Room.”

“I’m sorry,” I hardly can hear myself, making me unsure if she did, too.

“It’s fine. Um, are you on your way?”

“Yeah, I should be there in a little over two hours. Fuck, could this bloody bus go any faster?” I exclaim, pounding a hand on the wheel in exasperation.

“It’s okay, Harry, just get here safely. You know that’s all Becky would want.”

“But ‘s not, Skye, ‘s not-,” the sentence snaps there, dangling from my lips, as a tear does the same from the tip of my nose. Something cracks in my chest, thinking the thoughts that I’m unable to pack away. “We’re s’posed t’ be parents in five months. We bought a crib and all these clothes, picked out names. I-.” She’s not the one to interrupt. No, it’s me who does the honors.

“‘m stupid, aren’t I? Fer never thinkin’ it could happen? Th-They were this . . this miracle baby who came outta nowhere and picked us t’ be their mum and dad, and now . . ,” I don’t know what to say, because what is there? I don’t blame her for the following silence, one that I fill with my thunderous sobs, accompanied by her own.

“You couldn’t have known, Harry, neither could she. I-It’s not something you’d ever want to think about. You two did everything right, a-and I wish I could say something to fix it all, because I’ve never seen her like this except when . . when it was you, Harry. But you made it, and I don’t think the baby w-will. I dunno how she’ll make it back from this, she’s wanted to be a mum since before I met her. It’s all she’s been able to talk about lately, and everything she’s bought has been f-for them . . everything she’s done . . I’m so sorry, Harry,” her words catch on something inside of me, pushing the tears out faster as I wait at a red light, pressing my fist against my mouth.

“Go back in there and take care o’ her . . ‘til I-I can, Skye. Please, would you do that fer me?”

“Of course, Harry.”

The radio show I’d had on earlier this morning replaces her voice in the speakers, but it doesn’t fill the thoughts drilling holes into my skull. My lips ache from the pressure of my teeth against them, but it doesn’t pass when I let my hand fall. Neither does the weight inside of me as I twirl it around my ring finger, wanting more than anything to be at her side, and knowing that I dread it too. She’d found it at a shop from our outing that Saturday when we picked out the crib, a memory I remember with tears clinging to my eyelashes. I loved it the second I’d laid eyes on it, the way the tawny gold fit against my skin, several miniscule amethyst stones set into the band. Its twin had sat below her engagement ring ever since, and at the thought of twirling it around her finger, I pressed down harder on the gas pedal.

I didn’t think I could feel my heart anymore. It had long ago run a race into oblivion, but it felt somewhere between my stomach and my feet by this point. Like a hat, it dropped lower at the sight of that wild head of hair I spot in the hall on the OB floor. For some reason, my feet skid to a stop and I’m just staring at her. Dread had already begun to fill my veins when I walked through those sliding doors and past people in scrubs, but now, it douses my insides entirely. The cold metal of my keys greets my hand when it escapes into my pocket, not knowing where else to go as my eyes scan the nearby rooms. She’s in one of them, isn’t she? Waiting for me?

The hand that rubs across my face does little to wash away the emotions painting it, but it wouldn’t matter, because of the ones drenching my insides. I don’t know why I stand there for a moment, knowing that collecting myself is far gone. My lips chapped from the February cold sting when met with the newest round of tears drowning the sights in front of me. I welcome it somehow, not knowing when they’ll ever stop.

“Which room is hers?” my question comes, and so do her exhausted eyes over to me.

Quickly, they flit to the closed door behind me. My next breath catches on my lips when her eyes meet mine and tell me everything I hadn’t yet known. Words pour out of them with every second that passes, and my eyes only fill with more tears.

“How is she? You hadn’t texted . . in a while,” I try to keep my voice steady, but I lost that ability hours ago. Pressing my taut fist to my lips doesn’t help as she readies her words.

“There wasn’t much to update,” Skye begins in a hushed voice, one I’ve rarely heard. She was always Becks’ nutty friend to me, never down to earth, no. “She wanted to wait for you until they did the tests, t-the ultrasound but . . they’ve made her comfortable for now and managed her pain . . It was a lot of blood, Harry, it doesn’t look too good. I’m really sorry.”

It’d been hard to hear from the get-go, and already I’d looked away, feeling it all with every second. It only grew worse as my eyes stopped on that door, her words sinking in as I dwell again on the fact that I wasn’t there when she got here. All I can do is nod my head before walking away, not wanting her to wait another moment.

The room was bathed in darkness when I pressed the door closed behind me. There wasn’t even the beeping I was used to in these places, the first time with her and then with me. A silence I’d never be able to forget clung to the walls and left a coldness in my veins. The only warmth I could make out is that of the wetness running faster down my cheeks when I see her. My sudden intake of air is the only sound, save for her soft breaths that I listen to for a few moments too long. I was sure she was asleep, and I hated to even think of waking her and bringing her back into this nightmare I’d walked into. The last thing I wanted to do was have her wake up to it again, because even asleep, I knew she would rather stay there.

I don’t blame her, because I have to turn away after a few moments, realizing that all of this is real. I’d been driving for hours, but it hadn’t sunk in, because how in the hell can it? All of a sudden, it dawns on me and I struggle to keep my crying quiet. My feet begin to lead me away and towards the door, but an icy cold roots me to the spot at the sound I hear.

“Harry?”

For a split second, I debate picking my feet back up and leaving, although I’m not sure why. Another fissure courses down my heart at the sound of her voice, my very favorite one in the entire world. It had been a long time since I couldn’t pick out the tone in her voice, and now, I almost wish I couldn’t. With a sigh, the will drains out of me and I’m turning around, preparing myself to see her again, but for real this time. Nothing could, I realize, when I see the glint already covering her eyes, drowning my favorite color out. The very eyes that I’d hoped now for years that our kids would have, and at that thought, a sob escapes my lips.

“H-Hi, lovebug,” I whisper with a hand carding into her hair. My voice shakes with the new sob tearing its way through my chest. Her lips are absent of words, but her eyes are the least bit that. Her silence is torn away by an awful sound leaving her lips, creasing her face in pain. I do what I know best, and surround her with my arms.

All words escape me, my entire vocabulary, and it’s no plight that a dictionary could fix. No, an entirely new language sits between us now, found in our cries and our hands. The taste of saltwater clings to my lips as I chase breaths, wishing for the sweet relief that doesn’t come when I hook my chin over her head.

I could feel it, every last bit. Her tears hot with rage and sadness racing down my neck, and the way her lungs burned from gasped breaths, only because so did mine. The vanilla and orange blossom scent of her hair did nothing to bring me back down. No, it only reminded me of the first memories I had of the scent, and how it was of the hospital when my grandpa was dying. How come we always made it back here, to a fucking hospital? We hadn’t even been together two years, and we’d already been to one three times now. It wasn’t even for- No, I wouldn’t get to leave with her this time holding a car seat with our baby tucked into it.

The next breath runs away from me at that thought, and I race after it, unable to stop thinking about the should’ve-beens. We should’ve been having our four-month ultrasound next week once I’d gotten back from a case I should’ve won. No, Becks and I should’ve been reading a few more pages from the baby name book tonight over the phone, writing down a few. Now, we wouldn’t. I wouldn’t get to curse my way through installing a car seat into the Rover, and placing a burrito-wrapped baby into it. Neither would I get my question answered, my dream come true of our baby having Becky’s eyes, something I’d wanted so badly. Dreamt about, even. As her ragged hiccups met my neck, I held onto her waist tighter, realizing I hadn’t gotten to feel the baby kick. I never would, now. We’d never meet our baby, one Becks sure was a girl. Our little Annie Styles.

I wasn’t sure when I’d gotten into the bed with her and pulled her against me, somewhere in between remembering the baby shower my sister was planning and when Becks bought our baby’s first outfit. It was one of the few strong memories I had of when I was in this very hospital, the one that we’d come back to every time, the fucking place. We hadn’t for the ultrasounds and prenatal visits, we just couldn’t. I’d almost lost Becks here and she’d almost had me torn away from her. Now, we’d say goodbye to our baby here too.

No words had been said still, and yet, dozens had been cried into each other’s necks. She wasn’t falling back asleep as my fingers traced lines through her hair. An emptiness sat hollow in her eyes like I’d never seen before, and she didn’t answer my touch or voice. Everything was wrong, I felt it in my bones. But she answered my lips when I pressed them to her forehead, instantly feeling her lean into them. No more was the sight of her puffy, red eyes and distraught face as it escaped to my neck. Even if I couldn’t see or hear them, I felt the tremors that coursed through her body as more tears painted the crook of my neck. It was then that there was a knock on the door and we turned to stone.

Nothing could surprise me by now, but the hands on the clocking telling me I’d been here for an hour already sure did. Another one ran through me with a shock when I saw the familiar face step into the room.

“Dr. Baker?” my quick question came, but when my eyes flit to Becks, the surprise wasn’t an emotion on her face. No, every other one was, but not this one.

“Please, you can call me Beth. I’m at this hospital today and when I heard that Becky had come in- well, I thought it’d be easier to have a familiar face around.”

Nodding is my first instinct, but when I don’t hear a peep from Becks, I know that I need to take over. Words struggle to come from my lips though, because what do I say? I freeze up entirely when my eyes move to the ultrasound machine in the corner, and suddenly, I realize what her appearance means.

A ‘thanks’ barely drops from my mouth when hers part, “Would the two you of like some more time or-.”

“No, you can do it now,” her voice is barely there, but I’m taken aback by it. When I look back to Becks, the exhaustion weighs heavy in her eyes, the very pair that won’t meet mine.

“You’re sure, Becks?” I ask softly, feeling my face squish together in question. A sudden one, at that.

“Yeah, let’s get it over with,” my fiance mumbles.

“Are you sure you’re both ready?” Dr. Baker goes on to say, making sure. I’m not but I nod along, regretfully peeling myself away from Becks to sit at her side.

I don’t know how it went unnoticed, but the tears have already made their return down her cheeks. The sound of them sends another tear down my heart, especially when they worsen as Dr. Baker exposes her belly. My very favorite one, the one I’d gotten to watch grow over the last almost four months, even if only in the slightest. It sent a wild ache through me, the slight curve to her stomach below her belly button, where our baby had been growing. I didn’t know that it could, but this sends tepid ones down my previously drying cheeks. Her hand is clammy in my own, and as I watch her cover her eyes, I draw constant circles into her skin.

The blank screen of the monitor stares back at me, and I’m quickly made aware of the sourness growing in my gut. The memories of the previous times I’d seen this machine, and how happy I’d been those times. How happy the both of us had been, because we’d gotten to see our baby, no matter how small and to hear its heartbeat. Now, those were both things I doubted entirely, and I didn’t think I was ready. No, I wasn’t ready this morning to wake up to a day that would mar my life, standing out from all of the rest as the day we had a miscarriage. I wasn’t ready for this any more than when I’d almost lost Becks just days after getting to love her as I’d wished to.

But I have to be, even if I’m not, because the love of my life is lying in the bed next to me breaking into pieces, and I’m going to have to hold her together somehow. No, Harry, you can’t break too. You can’t. But as the doctor explains that she’s going to look for a heartbeat for the reason we all know why, I know that I’d never be able to prepare myself for this. And as Becky’s sobs worsen beside me at the sound of the doctor’s regretful words, I don’t waste any time pulling her back into my chest, soaking up her miserable cries. I still heard them in my ears but all I could do was stare ahead as the sight of the city outside the window blurred before me, my love’s wails muffled against my chest. It could never soften the blow of the words though, the very one’s the doctor just spoke. The very ones that made my heart leave that space between my stomach and my feet, and drop to the floor in a blink. My stomach too, making all of the air whooshes out of me.

I can’t find a heartbeat . . I’m so sorry for your loss.

I’ll give you both some time before I come back to talk about what happens next.

How? How could this happen? I asked myself that over and over as I held her tighter to me, feeling the way her entire body convulsed with the sobs. They were the kind of cries I knew that stole every breath from your chest because you couldn’t cry any harder if you had it in you. I knew because they soon broke my insides apart when she began to cry my name, and then the word that had brightened our conversation for months now.

The baby.

Annie.

I’d already given up on trying to keep my cries quiet, especially as I could barely hear my own over hers. By now, the front of my button-down was already soaked through from her crying, and I surely had done a good number on her gown. Still, I wasn’t sure when I’d ever catch my breath again, not even how many minutes later when she finally looked at me again, every ounce of happiness ripped away. It felt as if the same emotion had been dripping out of my broken heart, never to be seen again. No, how could it?

“I love you,” my murmured words come, breathed against her forehead before a kiss there. Her reply is marked by sniffling and the hiccups that haven’t left her.

“I love you t-too,” she sighs, using the last breath inside of her.

“I wanna say it’ll all be okay, but . . but I don’t t-think I can,” I whisper against her skin, feeling the tears escape my eyes, despite the way I shut them tightly. “Not right now.”

Her hiccups had always been cute, adorable even. Something I’d give her crap for when she’d gotten them randomly, attempting to scare them out of her. We’d try all of the silly remedies, but they’d never work.

Now, I remembered she’d get them when she cried so hard it almost hurt. “Me too,” her ragged voice replies. “Our baby, Harry, th-they’re gone. Why?” she sobs, leaning into me, and I against her. Burying my nose in her hair and being met by her calming scent doesn’t work this time.

Her hands relax on my back, letting go of the clutches of my blazer she hadn’t dropped this entire time. Likewise, my hands burned when I let go of her scratchy hospital gown, smoothing her hair back. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d already pressed my lips to her forehead, and the subsequent times they scattered more across her face. No matter, I couldn’t stop the tears leaving her eyes, the pair that stared past me and off into the distance. Nor could I cease the ones pouring from my eyes, even if they were quiet now.

“Are you in any pain, bug?”

Her head shook from side to side, although belatedly. Her cries had quieted at moments too, that is until her head dove back against my chest, and they returned. I held her there, pressing my lips to her head and closing my eyes, being sucked back into my thoughts.

The should’ve-beens made a regretful comeback, and as each one paid a reminder to me, so did a tear down each cheek. The old dresser we’d already filled two drawers of clothes with. The tiny sandals and Nikes in there somewhere, blue Vans and pink Converses for whatever color they may like. A canvas print bearing ‘Baby Styles’ had hung on the wall in the other guest bedroom for months now, a surprise present from my mum that she’d painted herself. Slowly and without us knowing, that room had turned into their nursery, despite the absence of a crib or much more. Ronnie had already given us handmedowns of Harper and Ollie’s - stuffies, clothes, a baby carrier, a crib mobile, and newborn hats that still amazed me at their tinyness.

Each one spurred a new sob from me, the next one is harder than the last. I wasn’t sure if they’d ever stop, nor did Becks’. Each time I thought I was close to relief, my lungs burned from another memory that stole my breath away. The framed sonogram on my desk, the maternity photos we had planned in a few months, or the list of baby names in a shared Note on my phone. I wondered which of the same memories spun through her head, and which one it was when her hands clung to me tighter.

“W-Was it me?”

“What?” I barely spit out, pulling back with a wish to see her face. She doesn’t let me though, continuing to hide it as I search for her. “What’d you say?”

“W-Was it me, Harry? C-Could it be my fault th-that-.”

“No, Becks, of course not. Don’t say that, buggie,” I can’t stop her soon enough, not even with the cries that adorn my words, wishing she’d stop.

“B-But-.”

“No ‘buts,’ you did everything right, Becks. Y-You ate healthy, exercised, slept, took the vitamins- you did everything right, honey. It’s not your fault. It’s not, I promise-,” I begin, but the stubbornness in my bride shines through, to no surprise.

“But what if I did, Harry? What if it’s m-my fault? I could never forgive myself, maybe you wouldn’t either,” she wails against my chest. No rubbing, hair playing, kisses, or singing can calm her, or even me.

“It’s not your fault, Becks, it’s nobody’s. You heard Dr. Baker, she said it’s never anybody’s fault, they don’t know w-why it happens- something just doesn’t work out,” I whisper into her hair, my lip singing from pain when my teeth sink into it. Anger courses through me as I wish over and over for the thousandth time already that I could wake up from this nightmare, and so could she.

I almost can breathe again when she doesn’t go on, making me ask into the open air the same questions. Why?

“Harry,” it’s a sigh, a whoosh of her breath leaving her lungs. “Wh-What if they knew?”

“Knew what, bug? Who-?”

“The baby . . What if- What if they knew that I d-didn’t . . want them at first?” her last few words catch in her throat, like a t-shirt on a sharp branch in the woods. No. Instead, it feels more like a thorn from a bush catching on your leg as you run through the bushes away from the path. I didn’t know how to navigate this. No, not even from the first second, because already we’d stepped off of the path, and I’m lost as can be.

“They didn’t, Becks,” I begin, shushing her arguments when they come, breaking even further when her sobs louden. “They couldn’t have known. You were a wonderful mother to them and already, you showed them so much love. That’s all they knew, I promise you that. We talked to them all of the time, read them stories, sang to them, and you fed them so much chocolate they’ll be a nine pounder-.”

There, I stop, because I realize what I’ve done. I hear it in my words and in her weeping, the step that I shouldn’t have taken. Without knowing, I spoke in present tense, and knew that I’d only made it worse. I reminded us of what we couldn’t have- what we wouldn’t have. What should’ve been. Should be.

Her ‘sorrys’ are sobbed against my neck slick with her tears, only making my hand rub the circles harder into my back. My throat burns, wishing for words to find so that I could make it all better, that I could fix this. Fix her, and me in the process, but for once, I can’t. We’d always been so close to losing something or each other, and now, we’d lost our only child.

It was all whisked away when a sound pulled me from the depths, and I gasped for air alongside her, turning my head towards the door. Dr. Baker strode back in quietly with the smallest of smiles, worry creasing her brow once more.

When somebody asked me later what had happened next, I could barely recount it to them. The doctor had come back in and discussed with us our options. Words I’d never wanted to hear coming up was a recurring theme today, one that I wish I could make it like it never happened, but I couldn’t. No, there was no getting rid of the wince when the doctor mentioned the remains of our baby. It didn’t help anything when she assured us that we didn’t do anything wrong, and that it wasn’t our fault. It didn’t remove the blame that stuck to me, unwilling to leave, and painfully, I knew it coated her insides even thicker.

It carried on in a blur and before I knew it, I was kissing her goodbye. A medical shower cap donned her head as tear trails painted her cheeks, unspoken words passing between us. With another kiss and whispered words of love, they whisked her away to the operating room, and I was left alone. All I could do was stare blankly around the room, wondering how all of this had happened. Unsure if I’d ever missed her as much as I did now. I had hardly blinked and suddenly, I was gasping for air as a new sob overwhelmed me. They said she’d be back in no time, the procedure wouldn’t take long, and we’d be able to go home tomorrow. Even that I feared, not knowing how anything would ever be the same- No, my life could never be the same again, or Becks’.

“Hello?”

“A-Are you still in town?” a whisper is all that I can manage, but already I know they hear what I try to hide. “I need you to come to the hospital. Saint Edward’s . . No, I’m okay. It-It’s the baby, we’ve lost them.”

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