#n as always tryin to practice n get familiar with the ways you can use panels hehe yippee!!

[peppermint-moss]

caligo comic!! (feat. oblivious Eric delivering the most terrible news when the gang is already feeling Pretty Fucked Up)

commission info || ko-fi (tip jar)

[bananapie99]

Leaving Home

Part I of my new Home series

Part II here

Part III here

Part IV here

Inspired by Welcome Home from Bandstand the musical

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Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers (brother) x Reader

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The scraping of a key in the lock jolted you back to reality. Your hands flew to the chest on top of yours and shoved back. Quickly you attempted to straighten out your dress and rake your fingers through your hair. You straightened his tie and desperately swiped your hand over the lipstick smudged onto his lips. Your hand found its home back in your lap from wiping around your own mouth just as the door swung open. A silent prayer danced across your lips as your brother’s eyes came to meet yours from the doorway.

“You’re home early,” you noted in what you hoped was your usual tone.

He shrugged off his coat casually. “Got lucky today I guess.”

I don’t think he caught on to what he practically just walked in on....

The man next to you on the sofa cleared his throat. “Busy day punk?”

“You wouldn’t believe it Buck. I’m just happy to be home now.”

Just as you thought you were off the hook, your brother seemed to pause mid thought.

“Buck, why are you here? I thought you weren’t gonna be by ‘til tonight.”

No.

“Oh, ya know punk, I was just around. Thought I’d stop by and see how your sister was doin’.”

“Steve, when is he not here?” You try to say it casually, with a little laugh in your tone.

That seemed to satisfy him. “Alright I’m starved,” he said walking down the hall. “What’s for dinner tonight (y/n)?

Dinner. You hadn’t even thought about that today. You were a little...preoccupied.

“Umm...” Your thoughts were interrupted by a nip at your collarbone. You shoved your elbow towards Bucky and let out a soft growl. “Not now James.”

He let out a laugh and threw his hands up in surrender.

“I was thinkin’ I would just heat up the meatloaf from last night. I’ll get that goin’.”

As you stood from the couch to head towards the kitchen, Bucky made a grab for your waist. You stumbled back a step but he was quick to catch you on his lap.

“Beautiful and quick on her toes,” he whispered into your ear. Heat rushed to your cheeks, his warm breath brushing your neck sent a tingle down your spine.

Pulling yourself together again, you pushed off him. “Still not the time. Care to help me in the kitchen?”

“Baby doll, you know I don’t cook.”

“Well at least keep me company?” You batted your eyelashes and held your hand out towards him.

Rolling his eyes he replied “how am I supposed to say no to that face?”

With a smile, you risked a quick peck to his cheek. Heavy footsteps approached and you dropped Bucky’s hand, making a beeline to the kitchen. Pulling the leftovers out, you strained your ears to try and catch what Steve and Bucky are talking about, listening for any clues that your brother was not as clueless to what he walked in on as he seems. Sadly, your hearing has never been amazing, so you were left praying for the best.

Lost in your worry and preparing the meatloaf, you jumped out of your skin as familiar hands slid across your waist. Out of fear that Steve would hear, you managed to choke on your scream.

“James, stop it! Steve could walk in and see.”

“You think I’d let him catch me with my hands on his baby sister? That wouldn’t end too good for me baby doll. He’s got a headache, said he wanted to lay down for a bit.”

Bucky’s hands on you, his chin resting on top of your head softened the blow of Steve not joining you for dinner. Feeling the sudden slump in your shoulders, he squeezed at your hips.

“Chin up cookie. You’re all decked out and now we can have a nice little dinner for two.” He spun you around to give you a real kiss. Whether you were dizzy from the spin or the kiss was anybody’s guess.

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur between the wine and Bucky. Steve must have decided to call it a night and never made an appearance. Even so, you two tried your best to keep your voices low and your hands to yourself... mostly.

A little past midnight Bucky decided to head home. “Wish I could stick around, but I don’t want your neighbors thinkin’ you’re a different kinda dame, baby doll.”

More intoxicated by the wine than him, you stumbled to the door of your apartment, steadied by Bucky’s hands, to let him out.

“Goodnight (y/n), I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He pulled your hand up to his lips and left a soft, lingering kiss. “Lock the door behind me.” With a wink, he disappeared into the night.

Somehow you found your way to your bed and fell asleep as soon as your head hit your pillow.

You woke up with your head throbbing, dreading opening your eyes. Then a noise caught your ear. You could not understand the words being spoken, but it was definitely two men talking. Steve and Bucky. The thought of seeing Bucky provided the necessary motivation to try and get up. No way were you getting all dolled up feeling like this, but you found your way to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. You cleaned off the smeared makeup left over from yesterday and just added a little mascara. Yesterday’s dress was all wrinkled from sleep, but it would do for now. Following the mumbles, you found your way to the living room where Steve and Bucky were seated on the couch.

The sight in front of you seemed foreign and you could not pick up on what it meant. Bucky’s head hung low in his hands, a piece of paper seated next to him, your bother’s hand on his shoulder.

“It will be okay Buck.”

Your eyes zeroed in on the paper again. The longer you looked at it, the deeper it sunk into the cushions, the heavier the air got in the room. Suddenly you felt off-balance. When did the stars start coming out with the sun?

You woke up on the couch, Steve and Bucky’s faces coming in and out of focus. Finally your eyes locked on Bucky’s and that was when you broke down, sobs shaking your whole body. Both men put a hand on you in concern.

Bucky spoke first. “Baby doll, what’s wrong?”

“You- you c-can’t leave. They can’t m-make you go.”

The words were tangled in your throat, fighting their way out.

“I’ll be okay (y/n), I promise. I’ll be home before you know it. I could never leave my best girl.”

You were too upset to register the implication of what was just said, but Steve was not.

“Your best what?” His tone was caught somewhere between shocked and indignant.

“Steve, I’ve been tryin’ to decide when to talk to you...”

“You- You’re with my sister?”

“You gotta understand, I love her, I really do.”

Silence is deafening. You had never understood what that meant until now. Somehow you sat yourself up on the couch and reached for Bucky. He moved closer, taking a seat next to you. The rough pad of his thumb wiped at your tears, pleading with them to disappear. You collapsed into his chest, no longer afraid of what your brother might think, instead afraid of losing the man you love to your country. Steve remained quiet, observing the two of you. He watched you relax into Bucky’s arms, your sobs softening to whimpers. He saw how Bucky stroked your back, how he fingered through your hair. He saw Bucky’s lips moving near your ear, the words inaudible to him, but seemingly soothing to you. Steve’s body relaxed with your heart rate. When you turned to face Steve, his heart shattered. Your face puffy from crying, mascara staining your cheeks, your arms extended to Steve. He knelt in front of you and pulled you into him.

“It’ll be okay (y/n). He’ll come back to us. He’ll come back to you.”

You could not bring yourself to look at the paper, could not bring yourself to ask when he had to leave. Bucky opened his mouth to speak.

“Please,” you whispered. “Not yet. Don’t tell me when. Not yet.”

He nodded and kissed the top of your head before pulling you back into his chest.

Bucky did not leave Steve and your apartment that day, even decided to stay the night. The men would be lying if they said they were not worried about you. Something broke in you upon arrival of that letter. That night before bed you finally asked.

“Buck... when do you have to go?” Tears threatened to spill over but you fought them back.

“In a week baby doll. We have time.”

A week was no time at all. A week to live a lifetime. It could easily be the last week at home for his lifetime.

Stop it. You cannot think like that right now. Bucky is here, safe in front of you. What comes after this is not yet your concern. Love him now. You squeezed Bucky tight, as tight as you could. He hugged you back, gentler but just as desperate. His hands slid around your waist to hold you there. He started rubbing up and down your back as he felt your chest start to shake.

“No need for tears cookie, not tonight. I’ll be right here waitin’ when you wake up.”

The next few days went by quicker than you would like. Before you knew it Bucky was leaving tomorrow. How can that be correct? He just got his letter yesterday.

Steve was kind, understanding of the new relationship between you and Bucky. Well, new to Steve. The two of you had been sneaking around for a while. You had been scared your relationship would ruin their friendship. You loved Bucky, but you would never put your happiness before the two of them. They had been inseparable your whole life. Whether Steve would have always taken it this well or if it was a result of the letter, you would never be sure. Knowing Steve, you believe he would have gotten to this place eventually, it just might have taken a little longer under normal circumstances. You caught the two of them talking and laughing the night before, same as always. That warmed your heart. Both of the men had been so concerned with how you were handling the letter, you were worried they had not processed the information for themselves. As the thought crossed your mind, you caught the little sniffles and chokes mixed in with their laughter.

Bucky was acting different today. How could you blame him? He ships off tomorrow for training. It’s 1943, by now you all knew the statistics of those shipped overseas. Holding onto hope was necessary to not just collapse then and there, but that was an exhausting task.

You got all dolled up that day for Bucky. You put on his favorite dress, which had actually been a Christmas gift from him the year before. It was beautiful. The dress was navy blue with a scoop neck that showed off your collar bones. The sleeves ended just above your elbows, the waist cinched in with a matching belt, and the A line skirt landing just above your knees. You spent extra care on your makeup this morning, though you are sure the mascara will not last the night.

The morning and afternoon went by as it would any other day, the three of you pushing the inevitable to the back of your minds.

Around four o’clock that evening Steve asked you to run an errand. It seemed inconsequential given the circumstance and you argued it could be done in a few days. Steve insisted it be done now, and indignantly you left the apartment.

You arrived back around forty-five minutes later, errand completed. As you inserted your key into the lock, you picked up music coming from inside. Once the door opened you instantly recognized the tune, Glenn Miller’s “Tuxedo Junction,” your and Bucky’s song. The lights were low, candles everywhere. You did not remember owning this many candles. You followed their glow and the music into the dining area. There Bucky was seated, dressed in his best suit, waiting for you.

“James, what’s goin’ on?”

“Sit down baby doll.” Bucky got up from his seat to pull out your chair.

As you sat down, he pushed your chair back in and leaned down to kiss you.

“I should be doin’ this for you, you shouldn’t be doin’ this for me.”

He let out a low laugh. “No (y/n), tonight is all about you.”

This felt backwards. He was the one leaving for war, not you.

Steve appeared from the kitchen, two plates in hand. He sat one in front of each of you, then retreated back towards the kitchen.

“Steve where are you goin’? You should be eating with us.”

“Tonight is for you, (y/n). Bucky and I had our time while you were out.”

With that he disappeared and you and Bucky were left alone, just the food, music, and candle glow to keep you company.

The two of you were silent for a while, afraid speaking would ruin the illusion that this was just a romantic night in with one another, and not possibly your last.

Bucky was the first to speak.

“(Y/n), you know I love you, right?”

“Of course James, why would you even ask that?”

“I know we’ve been dancin’ around what tomorrow means.”

Your heart dropped at the mention of it. He noticed the change in your demeanor and reached a hand across the table to hold yours.

“Baby doll, I love you more than I thought a man could ever love anything. You make up my whole world. Without you, there is no life I want to live.”

“James...”

“Promise me you’ll be waitin’ for me when I get home.”

“Of course I will James. My heart leaves with you tomorrow.”

“(Y/n)... I talked to Steve, asked for his blessing.”

His blessing? You are both adults, there is no need to ask for a blessing to love one another.

He stood from his chair and took a step closer to you before kneeling.

Oh.

“(Y/n), I know there’s no time before I leave, but when I get back...” He reached into his coat, fingers pinching an object. His hand came back out and the object caught the candlelight, creating a little sparkle like in a dream.

A ring.

“When I get back, will you do me the honor of marrying me? Since our first secret date I knew you were the one, cookie. Please make me the happiest man on Earth.”

You lunged forward, taking his face in your hands and kissed him as tears streamed down your face.

“Yes, James. I am yours forever and always.”

He slid the ring onto your finger. It was beautiful, elegant in its simplicity. For such a small ring, it weighed heavily on your finger.

When I get back he had said, but he meant if. If I get back.

Please God, bring him back.

The night was again a blur, made up of wine and Bucky. Your Bucky. That night he slept with you, tradition be damned. Steve did not even bat an eye as you led Bucky towards your room. All of the ifs weighed heavy between the three of you.

Morning came too fast, and Bucky gathered his things to leave. You did not bother with makeup this morning. It would all be gone before he even stepped out the door. You stayed in bed while he got everything in order. He found you there, wrapped tight in your blanket and clearly lost in your thoughts. He slid behind you, placing an arm over your waist, pushing his face into the back of your head, clinging onto your scent.

“It’s time, baby doll.” He spoke just above a whisper.

No. Not yet. It’s not fair.

At that moment you broke again, violently, much like when you first saw the letter.

“Shhh, it’s okay cookie. I’ll be back in a jiffy, just you wait. I’ll write ya a letter every day. Cross my heart.”

Knowing this was even harder for Bucky than it was for you, you forced the tears to stop. You forced the sobs silent, and you turned to face Bucky.

“I love you James.”

“I love you (y/n).”

With his help, you got out of bed and headed towards the front door. Steve was sitting on the couch, waiting. He stood when he was the two of you. Bucky walked over to him and gave him a hug. Both men teared up, praying this was only a temporary goodbye.

“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back.”

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

One last embrace and they let go.

Bucky turned back to you and opened his arms. You leapt into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You buried your face in him, your turn to memorize his scent.

He kissed your head and you looked up. Steve was right there, but neither of you cared, and I doubt he did either. Bucky kissed you, long and deep, trying to make up for all the kisses you will miss between now and who knows when the war will end. The kiss of a lifetime.

He set you down, wrapped one arm around you again in an attempt to delay his departure. He released you, hand landing on the doorknob. He twisted it and pulled the door open. One last look back.

“Come home James.”

“Before you even have time to miss me.”

With a wink he closed the door.

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Requests are open!

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Tags: @belladonnabarnes @moteldwelling

[inkrabbit]

Hi! So I was wondering if you could do a Sean Macguire x male!reader where they’re arguing because Sean unnecessarily risked his life and Sean tries to get out of the argument by saying ‘you’re cute when you’re angry’ and instead of reader getting all flustered and blushy, he gets even more pissed off and just says ‘oh fuck off’ then goes off to his tent. And a little while later Sean finds him and apologizes then promises to be careful and it just ends in fluff and sleepy cuddles before they fall asleep together.

Sorry this took so long! It's not the best, but I did what I could for the plot. Hopefully you enjoy <3

I'll work on the next request soon

Word count: 1,957

Sean had once heard that, in life or death situations, time would slow down. He laughed at those stories, wondering how that could be possible. Time and time again, life continued to speed by him and the gang with no intentions of ever slowing down.

That was until he had jumped in front of you, green eyes blown wide and his mouth hanging open, a strangled gasp escaping his throat. In that moment, time truly did seem to stop as he fell back. The yelling and cheering of the final O'Driscoll fell away, along with the gunfire as he slowly brought his hand up to cover his side. It hurt, and his blood stuck to his hand, warm and sticky as he gripped his jacket and skin in an attempt to stop the bleeding and quell the rising pain.

The sound of your panicked voice was the only thing that came through the white noise and ringing in his ears, still reeling from the damage. He barely registers that, in his daze, you've managed to get a clean shot off on the man who had originally wounded him. Now laying in only your presence, he let out a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding in, shaky and filled with discomfort. Each breath he took, no matter how small, seemed to intensify the pain in his side.

“Are you okay?” Oh, but no matter how much pain he was in, that familiar goofy smile made its way to his lips as he stares up at you.

“Aye, I am now, love,” he chuckles softly, but his hand doesn't move from its spot. With arms still shaking from the adrenaline, you crouch down to help lift him up, just into a seated position. “Ah, watch it, lad! Still not feelin' meself, as ya can see!”

“I don't wanna hear it!” It wasn't often you shot back at him like this. Sure, he was used to the snooty remarks, and maybe the comments that would act as a slap on the wrist, but the roar in your voice made him feel like a child being scolded. He expected this from Miss Grimshaw, or Hosea; maybe even Dutch on a bad day, but to hear it from his boyfriend? Well, this was certainly new.

“I had it all under control!” you continue as you hook his arm over your shoulders and lift him up, ignoring the whining that reverberated in his throat. “All you had to do was stay behind cover, and you couldn't even do that!”

“Where's the fun in hidin'?” He tries to give you a cheeky smile as you two walk over to Ennis, and he notes how you're almost reluctant to help him up and onto his saddle. “'Sides, I was just tryin' to protect ya, love.”

“Oh, shut it,” Watching you mount your own horse, the two of you trot back to camp. Silence falls and Sean notices that you won't even spare him a glance. Still, he can tell by the way your brows are furrowed that now's not the time to make small talk. One hand grips the reins as his other covers the hole in his side. Maybe he would try saying something when both of you returned to camp?

To no one's surprise, Miss Grimshaw is the first one to start hollering across camp when she sees Sean struggling to get down from Ennis and the blood that soaked his clothes. She pushes right past you, demanding the Irishman to explain himself as she leads him over to the wagon. He can barely get any words out before the older woman starts talking over him. Being practically thrown onto the small stool, Sean peers around Miss Grimshaw as he watches you hand over the loot from your expedition.

Once more, a seed of guilt is planted in the pit of his stomach, but he doesn't have long to dwell on it before Miss Grimshaw is instructing he removes his clothes so she can take a better look at his wound. He moves slow, wincing as he feels the material try to cling to his body, and the pinch and burning pain as he moves.

“Just what were you thinkin'?” she demands as she picks up a cloth and some antiseptic. To the best of his ability, Sean shrugs.

“I just wanted to protect 'im,” he responds softly, sucking air in through his teeth when he feels the sting of the cloth against his side.

“You know Y/N is more than capable of handling himself,” He nods, almost sheepishly, as he avoids her stern stare.

“I know, but...” He watches you from across the way, standing before Dutch and Hosea as you rant, no doubt about his little act. You're stomping your foot and flailing your hands, your face red and your brows furrowed. He had never seen you this mad before. “Ya don't know what it's like watchin' people shoot at someone ya love.”

“Oh, 'course I do,” He finally turns to stare at Miss Grimshaw, green eyes waiting for her to continue. “You think Dutch and I were always safe? Things escalated more times than I can count. He couldn't take his way out of everything, even if he thinks he can.”

He opens his mouth to say something, maybe ask more questions, but his mind goes blank when you finally walk over with your arms crossed over your chest. The scowl is still cemented on your face, but that doesn't stop him from putting on that old, goofy smile and sending it your way.

“Ya look cute when you're angry, Y/N!” he teases, resting his elbow on his knee so he can bend over just slightly. He had high hopes you would give him something; a smirk, playful huff, or even a roll of the eye. But the way your jaw clenched only made his heart drop. Before he knows it, your hand is lashing out and smacking his cheek, jerking his head to the side. There's a ringing in his ear, and he barely catches the mild scolding Miss Grimshaw starts to deliver to you.

“I wouldn't be so angry if you weren't such an idiot!” Your tone is clearly angry, but he can hear that slight wavering in your voice; the slightest crack that he would've missed had he not been paying attention. His mouth drops open, ready to fire back in a desperate attempt to calm you down, but you've already turned your heels and stormed away towards your tent. He's left sitting there, a deep frown on his face.

“Oh, now look at what you've done,” Miss Grimshaw sighs, her eyes trailing you. “You just can't keep your mouth shut, can you?”

“I gotta go after 'im,” He plants his hand on the stool, slowly trying to lift himself up, but the old woman is faster. She grabs his shoulder and forces him back down, a wince coming from the man.

“Oh, no you don't!” Her face is hard, brows furrowed as she glares down at him. “Now, I think you've done quite enough for one day. You just let poor Y/N simmer down before you go botherin' him.”

“But I just-”

“But nothin'! You're stayin' right here!”

Maybe he would've argued more if his side wasn't on fire, or if the woman hadn't had such a brutal grip on the base of his neck to hold him still. His eyes followed your direction, and he stared at the closed flaps of your tent. He hadn't meant to make you mad.

The rest of his medical treatment consisted of him barely listening to Miss Grimshaw's rant. Something about him being more careful the next time he's out, and how he has to be more aware of his surroundings and not make such stupid decisions. He absentmindedly just nods his head, eyes still trained on your tent. He went over the conversation you two would eventually be having repeatedly in his mind. Should he just apologize? Should he try to explain himself? Should he just try and forget it all happened and keep going on as if everything was normal? He supposed he would figure it out when he saw you.

By the time the sun slipped behind the horizon, everyone had heard about Sean's little event and nice slap he had received. Of course some of the members had poked and prodded for more information, and other teased him about what had happened. He never told them, of course. Just rolled his eyes and brushed them off. But the whiskey he was offered as a sort of “get well soon” gift was more than welcome. It helped calm his nerves for what was to come.

When the last drop of whiskey hit his tongue, he tossed the bottle to the side and bid everyone at the campfire a farewell. Some had wished him luck, expecting him to be thrown out of your tent within seconds of entering just by saying something stupid. And truth be told, that thought had entertained him for a while. He was worried he would say the wrong thing and receive another slap, only to have you throw him out seconds later.

Standing outside of your tent, he gnaws at the bottom of his lip. It was now or never, he supposed. While the alcohol still coursed through his veins and gave him that little bit of courage, he reaches out and pulls the flaps apart. You're laying down on your cot with your back towards the entrance, paying him no mind.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” he starts softly, only to be met with silence. With a soft sigh, he steps into the tent and lets the flaps close behind him. His strides over are slow, worried you'll lash out at any second. “Look, I just wanted to tell ya I'm sorry. I-”

“Like sorry makes it any better,” He finally reaches the cot, taking a seat on the edge to reach out and rest his hand on your shoulder. “You could've died, Sean!”

“Well, I'm fully aware of that...” He holds his breath, worried he'll be met with more aggression. When you don't respond, however, he decides to continue. “I just... I dunno. I guess seein' ya in trouble like that... it made me panic. I can't lose ya, Y/N.”

“So your first thought was to jump in front of a bullet?”

“My first thought was to protect you. Didn't matter what happened after.”

You slowly shift on the cot, sitting up and finally facing him. He can finally see your bloodshot eyes. Reaching out, he gently brushes his knuckles against your cheek.

“I just don't wanna lose you,” you sigh. A small creeps across his freckled face as he leans in to press his lips against yours.

“I'll try to be more careful.”

“You promise?”

“Well, best I can, love.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, this one lingering longer than the last.

“You ever do something stupid like that again, I'll kill you myself,” you murmur against his lips. He chuckles softly.

“I'd expect ya to, lad,” You help him slowly lay down on the cot next to you, letting his head rest against your chest as you ran your fingers through dirty red locks. He's softly complaining about the ache in his side, and you just remind him it's what he deserves after making such a stupid decision. Still, he gives you a smile as he promises to not pull another stunt like that again.

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Ghost - Chapter 17

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: swearing, fluff, foreshadowing smut?

W/c: 2.3k

A/n: I know I know, it’s been quite a few nights since I last posted since I usually try to every few days... This week has been a whole long seven days. And honestly I needed to charge my battery and take a break from writing for a minute. Anyyways, thats boring, and this is not. Were almost done here, and I’m so excited to move onto some imagine’s I’ve been brainstorming! Hope you enjoy! 

Bucky’s breath fanned across your collarbone, drifting in and out of slumber. How he could even attempt sleeping after the day's events was, quite frankly, astonishing. But you didn't dare wake him, afraid you wouldn't get a chance to be this close to him again. 

It was easy enough to conclude how you felt about the past few days as confusion. Specifically speaking, you knew it went deeper than that. Your memories had kicked you in the teeth, reeling from the guilt and grief that Tommy was dead and it was all your fault. Yet in the matter of hours, you had fed him to Hydra. You knew exactly what they would do to him when they found out you had escaped. You also knew that when the team circled back to dispose of the Hydra base, or what of it was left, Tommy would be gone. For good this time. 

Bucky’s body shifted, leaning in closer to you. Your heart raced as a small sigh erupted from his chest, vibrating through you. 

And then there was that. You weren't sure when that feeling of butterflies had come back when Bucky looked at you, but nevertheless it had. Part of you thought you should be sorrowful after your ‘almost’ fiance ‘almost’ shot you. Maybe take a day for bereavement, and yet, the idea of pressing pause on Bucky, after all this time, felt impossible. More to the point, you were tired of fighting between what you thought was morally right about how your heart beated ten times faster when he was around.  

“Do you hate me?” He hesitated under his breath. The rest of the team had all taken their seats at the front of the aircraft. Even still, he spoke as though he was afraid they would hear your confession. 

Your eyes met his, looking for some sort of punchline, but none came. Silence hung heavy around his question, and you swallowed deeply. 

Did you hate him? There was a time not so long ago that you would have been an easy question to answer. He hadn't stolen the life you thought he had. No, Tommy did that all on his own.  He betrayed everything you had built together. He wasn't the man you thought you knew. Bucky, on the other hand, always had been. You knew about his past. He had spent countless nights wrapped in his arms dredging but old and broken memories about his time with Hydra. The only thing you knew for sure was he made you feel like you belonged in a world that you thought had written you off years ago.

 Maybe, if you hated anyone, it was yourself. How long had Tommy been lying to you?  How could you not have seen it? How many nights had you spent in your bed, giving yourself to him, trusting him, believing him? 

“Thats a loaded question.” He murmured before you could answer. “I just mean, I miss this… Miss, you.” 

You worried on your bottom lip, watching as he huffed out a breath and accepting your silence for an obvious answer. Before he could pull away from you, you took his hands in yours, starling him from the sudden warmth. 

“I- I don’t think I ever hated you.” You offered honestly. 

Bucky pursed his lips and looked you over quizzically. “Could’ve fooled me.” He chuckled, leaning back into you as his breath steadied again. 

“I know I never really got the chance to- uh, apologise...” You tried the word on your tongue, but it tasted bitter. How do you ask for someone's forgiveness after attempting to murder them? “I don't really know what to say…” You mumbled, feeling the walls you built around yourself behind to crumble. 

“That’s cause’ there's nothing to say. Listen doll, of all people you don't need to apologise to me for homicidal tendencies. I get it.” He teased. You appreciated his light hearted approach, but his words send a lump to appear in your throat. Was that what it boiled down to? After a long day of dark thoughts and murderous rampages, Bucky would be there to understand. You weren't sure if the sentiment was romantic or the plot to a Tim Burton film. 

“And besides, I kinda’ deserved the ass kicking.” He signed, smiling into your shoulder. 

“You kind of did.” You chuckled. 

Huh…?

Were you making light hearted joking about attempted murder? Is this who you were now? Honestly, it wasn't the worst thing you’d done. Besides, there was something so comforting about the way he accepted you. Flaws (and boy oh boy were they flaws) and all. 

“Okay. So I'm not sorry for putting you on your ass.” You specified. “But I am sorry. For what I said after. I don’t know where that came from. I don't really think those things about you. You’ve never given me a reason to before.” Bucky huffed, and you could physically feel him stiffen. 

“I lost control, Y/n. I gave you a perfectly good reason...” He noted. You didn't have the heart to tell him that ever since that fateful day in the hallway all you could think about was the aching in your core and how perfect his death machine of a hand fit around your throat. 

“It doesn't matter…” You spoke, running your fingers over his flesh ones, until they locked into his. “I’m fine. You're fine- ish, right?” You chuckled, motioning to his chest now dried with blood, “I don't blame you.”

He squeezed your hand and signed into your shoulder. Everything about this moment was perfect. The impending doom you had left behind was just that. It felt long gone as you stared into Bucky’s arctic eyes and breathed in his scent. Comforting, familiar, and something you weren't ready to comprehend. It sent shivers down your spine and made your legs clench together at the thought. But now, sitting in the back of the quinjet avoiding the loud stares of Wanda scrutinizing your every move was not the time. There was no doubt she was reading your loud heated thoughts, and so desperately, you tried to quiet your want. 

……………………………

When you landed, medical was at the ready, helping Bucky out of the aircraft and into the compound. Shuri tried to force you apart from the injured man long enough to convince you to go for a check up also. 

‘I feel fine. I’m fine’ you tried to argue, but it was no use. Her mind was made up and you were smart enough to know when that happens, there's very little one can do to change it. 

You sat in the small lab, letting Shuri pry and pron at you, asking question after question but your mind was distant. Distracted. There was only one person you wanted to be with, and right now he was down the hall, having bullets plucked from his body. 

The overwhelming need to be near him was sudden, but not unwelcome. Try as you may to push it away, it krept back in, startling you every time. You could play dumb all you wanted, but now that he was not next to you, youre only mission consisted with getting him back. Were you confused? 

Yes. 

Did you understand what you were feeling? 

Not entirely. 

How did Bucky make you feel?

Brave… Loved… Horny? All of the above. 

Yes, yes and yes. There was no denying it. As much as you wished it was more complicated. Your entire core was drawn to him like a magnet and your brain was just along for the ride. Heart stuttering and mind foggy. 

Shuri gives you a once over and taps on your shoulder, yanking you from your thoughts. “You okay?” 

The question was simple. And yet, the words wouldn't come. 

You cleared your throat, physically shaking your head and clearing your racing thoughts, “Yes. I’m okay. Do you think I can go?” 

Shuri smiles knowingly, a chuckle bubbling out of her small chest. “He’s fine, ya’ know. Doctors said they extracted the bullets easily. He’s probably all healed up already-”

Her words were cut off by your impatient foot, bobbing anxiously for the answer to your question. 

“Yes. fine you can go.” 

You practically jumped off the lab table, swinging the door open and shouting a thank you over your shoulder on the way out. 

When you entered Bucky’s medical room, it was quiet. Turning the corner you could see he was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring out the large floor length window that looked out to the rolling mountain of Wakanda.

You tried to step lightly, not wanting to alarm him.

“Can't sneak up on a trained assassin.” 

You jumped, clutching your heart at his sudden voice. He chucked, watching your panicked face melt into a smile. 

“Guess not. How ya’ feeling killer?” You smirked, taking a seat on the windowsill across from him. 

Bucky squinted, looking at you skeptically, “I don't know if you're tryin’ to be funny or-” 

“I'm not. That was a stupid joke….” You scoffed as you bathed in the awkward silence that followed. 

There were so many things you wanted to say. So many you wanted to do, and yet your body was frozen, staring at the floor unable to meet his intense gaze. You could literally hear your heart beating in your chest and your face growing warmer by the second. 

“So.” you finally choked out, forcing yourself with all your might to look up. His eyes were soft and full of reassurance. Something you so desperately needed at the moment. Maybe the old Y/n could convey her emotions, but the real one was a total disaster when it came to this sort of thing. 

But that's what you were doing wasn't it? This is what it had all led up to. The kiss, the midnight conversations, the unyielding sexual tension. This was it. 

“So…” He repeated your words, coxing your next ones. 

You chuckled dryly, clearing your throat and starting again, “So, about what happened back there.” 

“When I got shot or when we kissed?”

“Both I guess?” 

“You guess?” He quipped, amusement dripping from his mouth. He was loving this. Watching you fumble over your thoughts. Of course he did. Smug bastard. 

“Listen, I’m not good at this stuff. Obviously. So could you just tell me how it is. Was that some heat of the moment thing? Like before. Because if it was you just gotta’ tell me.”  You finished in a huff. 

Bucky signed, running his flesh hand through his hair. “It wasn't.” He finally spoke, “not then and not now. I was such an ass, pushing you away like that. I just didn't- I guess I still don't think I deserve something like you… Touching me like that.” 

You soaked in his words. Watching his lips intently as his tongue darted out and wetted the bottom one. In a breath, you crossed the room and took the open space beside him as an invitation to sit down. 

“Will you please let me decide what I deserve from now on?” You smirked, looking up  at him from behind your lashes. 

“Yeah, I think that's best.” he chuckled, leaning into you. 

“How’re you feeling?” You mumbled, listening to his breathing steady as he signed into the comfortable position you were both in now. 

“Better. Thanks for that by the way. Wanda’s never used her power on me like that. It really helped.” He spoke, softly, as you waved him off, motioning ‘it was nothing’. 

It felt like the first time in a long time you had spoken to Bucky without the nagging desire to murder him. 

Maybe this is what people talk about when they say you should ‘grow’ with your partner. You're sure that they weren't referring to homicidal rage… But still. 

You looked up to Bucky, watching as he softly bit down on his lip. Without warning or much thought for that matter, you swung your leg around, purchasing yourself on his lap. You would like to believe it was with agile and ease, but the motion sent Bucky back against the bed while you fell against him, straddling his hips.

“What was-” You shushed him with your palm over his mouth, coaxing a deep moan from the back of his throat. It sent a shiver down to your core, but that was a problem for a later time. 

“I want to try something.” You breathed, pulling your hand from his lips and swifting replacing it with yours.

He reacted instantly, his hands settling on your hips as yours pulled at his hair. You melted into his touch as his tongue softly traced the bottom of your lip, deepening the kiss. You could feel his pants tightening around him as he ground his thick member against your core. He was unrelenting as you gasped for hair, pulling away and resting your forehead on his. Had it not been for the room being made entirely of glass you were sure you would have lost your pants. Honestly, you were still considering it. 

“I just wanted to know what that felt like without my life being at risk.” You spoke over heavy breaths. 

Bucky chuckled, his swollen lips turning up into a smile. “And?”

“Eh.” You shrugged, causing Bucky to gasp and he flipped your over, gaining the upper hand. His icy blue eyes, now blown with lust. You're breath caught in your throat by the new intimate position, flexing your thighs shut hard and suppressing a moan. 

“D-did you get the ‘ok’ to leave?” You stuttered, feeling your body tremble under the radiating heat of his. He nodded his head, a few loose strands of deep auburn hair falling from his bun and onto your cheek. 

You bit down on your lip, watching his chest rise and fall above you, feeling the electricity that emanate around the room. The idea that this could very well be a huge mistake crossed your mind and maybe if you were stronger you would have listened. Maybe you just didn't care anymore. Or maybe, it was possible this was exactly where you needed to be. Where you belonged. And so, without hesitation, you slid yourself out of Bucky’s grasp and pulled him down the hallway towards his room.

.......................................................................

A/N: As always, thank you to @cutie1365​ for just being you! Thank you for all your help with this my friend! Were almost done! Like and reblog if you enjoyed! See ya soon! 

@projectcampbell​

@calwitch​

@kalesrebellion​

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Unremembered

Switch AU

Finally, another entry in this series. I’ll admit this one was a bit difficult, but I’m happy with how it turned out. This is from Marvin’s perspective, as we learn more about what’s going on in his life. Particularly when it comes to a certain gray bastard. I don’t know what else to put in this description so I’m just gonna leave it there. Hope you guys like this one :)

More of this AU found here

Nothing could be better on a rainy day than lying in bed with a book and a cup of tea. Marvin adjusted the pillows behind him as he propped up the book. But before he could take in a sentence, he heard a faint mrrp? Glancing at the door to his room, he saw Mr. Fluffington squeeze his way through the gap in the doorway. “Hey, Mister,” he said, smiling. “You here to keep me company? I woul’ appreciate it.”

Fluffington wandered over to the bed. Marvin lowered his hand, dangling it over the side. After sniffing it for a bit, Fluffington butted his head against it and hopped up onto the mattress. Correction: nothing could be better on a rainy day than lying in bed with a book, a cup of tea, and a cat. “Normally I’d warn ye against sittin’ on me and trappin’ me on my bed,” Marvin said, idly stroking Fluffington’s back. “But I’m not goin’ anywhere today, so feel free.”

Though Marvin did have to be honest with himself: he couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that he should be doing something. After all, the kids were still missing. Schneep was out almost every night looking for them, JJ was studying any spells that could help—at this very moment, in fact—and Jackie and Anti were...well, they were doing their best. The stress of having their respective kids missing for two weeks now was wearing on them both. Everyone was involved except for Marvin, and he couldn’t help but feel that he should be helping right now.

“Ridiculous feeling,” Marvin muttered to himself. “‘M doin’ all I can.” Fluffington made another mrrp sound, stretching out across Marvin’s legs. “Ah, you’re lucky, Mister. You don’ have t’do anyt’ing at all. We even take care of food for you. Maybe I shoul’ve been born a cat, t’at sounds amazing.”

He leaned back against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. So tired today. Some days he woke up and could feel the fatigue dragging down at him like an anchor pulling him into the ocean. Inevitably, the guilt would come with it, telling him that he shouldn’t just be lying in bed. He should be productive! Nevermind if he physically couldn’t walk that far! Marvin did his best to ignore that part of him, but sometimes he couldn’t help it.

And as he tried and failed to focus on the story in the book before him, he found that this was one of those times. That niggling feeling was growing quickly in intensity. Sighing, he picked up the bookmark from the nightstand, slid it between the pages, and slowly sat up straight, trying not to disturb Fluffington. He managed to gently nudge the cat away, pulling off the miracle of moving without making him run away. With not a small amount of effort, he walked down the hall, and with some more effort and a few breaks, he climbed the stairs to the second story.

Ever since Marvin had turned the office on the first floor into his bedroom, JJ had started using the second upstairs bedroom to practice spells. He’d moved all his spellbooks and any other materials there, and recently he’d been considering somehow padding or reinforcing the walls in case any spells backfired in an explosive way. 

Marvin stopped outside the room’s door, breathing heavily and leaning against the wall. His legs were trembling, but he only took a moment before standing up straight and knocking on the door. Only a few seconds later, JJ opened it, looking surprised.

“Hey Jems,” Marvin said, smiling. “I came to check on you.”

JJ nodded slowly, still looking surprised, and walked further back into the room. Marvin poked his head through the doorway, scanning the shelves full of books, the desk with yet more books, and the simple wooden table in the center of the room, free of books. “I see your collection is growin’ fast,” he whistled, impressed.

“Oh, are you Marvin?” There was a woman in the room, red-haired and wearing a pale yellow hoodie. She waved, friendly. “Hello. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Aoife.”

“Ah, you’re t’at other magician,” Marvin recalled. “The one who came to rescue Jems when he left the city an’ ran into—I shoul’ say thank you for t’at. Thank you. It’s a pleasure t’meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” Aoife said. “JJ’s told me a lot about you. Though I seem to have underestimated your Irish accent.”

Marvin laughed. “Well, I can pick up a trace o’the same in you. Especially your name, t’at’s a strong Irish name if I’ve ever heard one.”

JJ tapped the table, drawing Marvin’s attention back to him. He held up a notepad, which had apparently been left nearby, on which he’d written, I thought you were going to rest today.

“It’s fine,” Marvin dismissed. “I jus’ wanted t’pop right in, see what you two were doin’, magic-wise.”

“Well, Jameson was just telling me about his attempts at animal transformation,” Aoife explained. “I’m impressed, in all honesty. It’s a very difficult spell.”

I still haven’t done it, JJ wrote, pouting a bit.

“But you’ve gotten close! Marvin, have you seen him?”

“Yes, apparently he’s s’posed to have someone t’ere when tryin’,” Marvin nodded. “T’ere was a lot of smoke. And feathers.” He paused, swaying on his feet for a moment. “Are you doin’ anyt’ing else? Is t’ere...t’ere anyt’ing I can do to help you?”

Yes, you can go back to bed, JJ said sternly.

“Aw, c’mon, Jems, don’ be like that.”

I’m serious. You’ve gotten much paler in the last few minutes.

“But—” Marvin wanted to protest, but saw JJ immediately writing again and stopped.

I know you want to help. But you’re always telling me to take care of myself, shouldn’t you do the same for yourself? JJ smiled. Hey, if you want something to do, are you up for practising some more sign? We still need to get the hang of it.

“I s’pose I could,” Marvin mumbled. He took a step backwards, wobbling for a moment. “Hey, when you two are done with your magic, come tell me about it, alrigh’? It's int’restin’.”

Of course!

Marvin waved goodbye awkwardly and headed back downstairs, thankfully finding it easier than heading up. He only had to stop twice: once on the stairs and once in the hallway. Entering his room again, he sighed and collapsed on the bed. Well. Looks like today was just going to be another one of those days.

A small cat face poked into his field of view and he chuckled. At least Mr. Fluffington was still here. Marvin patted him on the head, then reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a book. Not the one he had before. Instead, this one was titled: “Basics of BSL: Learn to Sign in Ten Chapters.” He opened to the spot he had marked and started to read intently.

———————

The room was freezing, bone-deep cold leeching the warmth from any exposed skin. He could see parts of the sky through the gaps in the boards across the window. It looked just as gray and cold as it was inside.

His breath rattled in his throat, and he coughed into the tattered pillowcase. Even though the door was ajar, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it off the bed and across the room. He was so...so tired. This was the sort of fatigue that left weakness in every limb, a fatigue that he was, unfortunately, all too familiar with. Sometimes when he felt like this, he couldn’t help but remember the first time: barely eight years old, lying in bed too tired to even move, terrified that it would stay that way for the rest of his life.

But at least back then, he had some family still there to stay with him. Now? He didn’t even know where he was or how he got here, and he’d much rather be alone than with this thing.

Speaking of which...he glanced over at the door again, just in time to see it start to creak open. A hand crept into the room, blackened and dead-looking. He immediately turned his head away, burying it in the pillow. Maybe if he pretended to be asleep, it would go away. Doubtful, but it’s worth trying.

He didn’t hear the footsteps, but he felt the sudden weight settle down on the edge of the bed. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to keep his breathing slow and even, difficult as it was. The silence in the room weighed down on him. And then he felt the weight shift, getting closer to him. “Still sick, then?” said that voice, that eerie voice with absolutely nothing memorable about it. “Aww.”

The blanket was pulled back. It was thin, but it was a layer of warmth, and without it, he started shivering. “Hey.” A hand grabbed his shoulder and started shaking. “I know you’re not asleep. Look at me. Look at me.”

He didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t, so he lifted up his head and glanced over his shoulder. There it was. Black eyes dripping. Face always smiling. “Leave me alone,” he whispered, voice rasping from disuse.

“But I’m here to help you.” It sounded upset, but of course, he didn’t believe it for a second. “See?” In its hand, it held a small purplish bottle with a white cap. It held it up and waved it. “I got you medicine.” 

“N-no...” He pushed himself upward, but wasn’t able to completely get into a sitting position, so he ended up awkwardly scooting back against the bed’s headboard. “No, I-I don’ want...”

“Don’t want what?” It crawled closer, and he flinched, unable to get farther away. “You should accept help from your friends, you know.”

“You’re not my friend,” he mumbled, turning his head away. And besides, he didn’t want anything that it would give him. Past experiences have proved that it wouldn’t be anything good.

“Now that’s just mean.” He glanced toward it just in time to see it unscrewing the lid of the bottle. “I just want the best for you.” Quickly, its hand shot out and grabbed him by the chin, turning his face toward it. He tried to push it away, but in this condition it just turned into weak flailing. “Now help me help you, or I’ll have to do something drastic.”

———————

Marvin woke up with a start, still shivering from the cold. It took a solid minute for him to look around and ground himself in his surroundings. It was just his room. Everything was fine. Everything was okay. Slowly, half-expecting something to grab him from the shadows, he reached out and turned on the lamp on his nightstand.

The light was comforting. Nothing could hide in the light. But even with that, his eyes kept scanning the area for anything. After a few searches of the room, he sighed, leaning back against the pillows.

Why could he only remember things in dreams? Marvin didn’t know much about memory, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t how it worked. It wasn’t how it worked for Jackie. He remembered every moment of the nine months he spent with Distorter. Meanwhile, Marvin didn’t even know how long he was with that...creature. But given how many dreams he’d had, it must have been quite a while.

He lay back down, but his eyes felt glued open. It was some time before sleep came again.

———————

Good Owl Books was a quiet shop. True, it received a steady stream of customers, but there was always a hush in the air, like stepping into a library. Except you could actually keep the books you got here. The shop owners were a pair of elderly women who were understanding of their employees’ needs, and always forgiving of absences. Not to mention the shop’s collection was extensive, mostly fiction but with an impressive set of nonfiction as well. They even had a small area of the shop that was taken up by a coffee stand. And it was for all these reasons that Marvin had taken a job here.

He was working the register today. A simple enough task, so he was happy to take it whenever it was available. It was much easier than moving boxes of books from storage to the shelves. The manager allowed him to read when he wasn’t busy helping anyone, provided he keep an eye on his own book so it didn’t get mixed up with the wares. Also, they had chairs for the workers behind the registers. Now that was a definite improvement since Marvin’s own time.

The sound of soft footsteps on the shop carpet was familiar enough that Marvin instantly bookmarked his place and got ready to help the approaching customer. He slid the book under the counter and looked up. “Hello, how was your shoppi—wait.” Marvin blinked. “Miss Stacy?”

“Oh, so this is where you work.” Stacy looked mildly surprised at this. It was understandable, though. After all, she’d just run into an acquaintance in a place she wasn’t expecting at all. “Well, it, um...” She glanced around, clearly feeling awkward for once in her life. “It suits you.”

“T’ank you.” Marvin cleared his throat. “I haven’ seen you in here before. Just droppin’ by?”

“Yes, I figured if I’m going to be staying in town indefinitely, then I might as well get familiar with the area.” Stacy set a small stack of books on the counter. “And pick up some reading material while I’m here.”

“Great idea.” Marvin picked up the fancy scanner and started looking for the barcodes. “Ye much of a reader, Miss Stacy?”

“Just Stacy is fine,” she said. “And no, not really. My sister was always more into books than me.”

“Sister?” Marvin raised an eyebrow, curious, but then made his face blank as he decided not to push it. He wasn’t sure if the two of them were close enough to talk about that.

But nonetheless, Stacy wanted to talk about it. “Yes, she lived here,” she explained. “Moved here for college, then decided to settle down with her boyfriend and get married. We visited each other as often as we could, but flights are expensive, unfortunately.” 

Marvin nodded, trying to look understanding. He’d scanned about three of the books, and there were about five left.

“So...you like books, right?” Stacy asked.

“Woul’ I be workin’ here if I didn’?”

She chuckled a bit. “Well, I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe it was close enough by that your partner could drive you—”

“My what?” Marvin blinked, taken aback by the phrase.

“Your...partner,” Stacy said slowly. “You know, Jameson.”

It took a moment for ‘partner’ to register as something other than ‘for business,’ and the moment it did, he dropped the scanner in shock. “No! No, Jems and I aren’—not that way.”

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” Stacy’s eyes widened and she covered her mouth in shock. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“Well, a lot of people t’ink t’at, but no, we’re not—not together.” Marvin felt his face grow flushed.

“I shouldn’t have thought—just because you live together—”

“It’s alrigh’, don’ worry.” Marvin picked up the scanner again. “We’re close friends, t’at’s all. I’m not Jems’s type, anyway, and he’s not mine.” He coughed awkwardly, and scanned another book. “What were ye goin’ t’say? About books?”

“I was...just going to ask if you had any suggestions,” Stacy muttered. “Based on these ones here.”

“Ah.” Marvin set down the book and looked over Stacy’s choices. Two biographies, one advice book, four realistic fiction novels, and one...well, that was odd. “Sorry to ask, but...did you mean t’get t’is picture book?”

“Oh. Um...yeah.” Stacy shifted awkwardly. “It’s stupid, it just reminded me of my niece.”

“T’at’s not stupid at all.” Marvin scanned the cover of the book. A simple drawing of three rabbits took up the cover, the art style soft and watery in pastel colors. “I t’ink it’s sweet t’at you’re t’inkin’ of her. She’d like it.”

“Oh...yeah, she did. It was her favorite.”

Marvin glanced up. He wasn’t all that great at judging tone of voice, but even he could hear the deep sadness in Stacy’s last sentence. Immediately, he felt bad for unknowingly bringing up something to cause that, so he cleared his throat again and moved on, scanning the picture book. “Well, I can’ really give you suggestions, t’be honest. I’m more of a fantasy type of reader. Maybe jus’ stick wit’ the section you found these in.”

“Right.” Stacy nodded. 

Marvin finished scanning the rest of the books in silence. He hit a couple buttons on the cash register. “T’at’d be 147.25,” he said.

“Yes, yes.” Stacy took a wallet out of her purse and pulled out a debit card. As Marvin scanned it, she shifted awkwardly on her feet. As he handed her the receipt and a pen for her signature, she suddenly said, “Can I tell you something?”

Marvin looked up, surprised. “Ah...I s’pose so?”

“The reason I came to this country...wasn’t originally for a vacation,” she said slowly. “I come here every year, around the same date. Normally I don’t stay this long, but I was...I wanted to make sure everything worked out with you, after I found Jackie.”

“...Oh?” This felt deeply personal, and Marvin wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear it, but she seemed like she needed to say this.

“I come here to pay respects,” Stacy said, almost too quiet to even hear. “To...my sister. And her kids.”

“Oh.” Marvin’s stomach slowly sank. “My...my condolences, Miss Stacy.”

“It happened years ago, at this point, but I still remember them.” Stacy kept her eyes down at the counter. “They were my only family.”

“I...I’m so sorry.” Marvin shook his head slowly.

“Thank you.” Stacy took a deep breath, then picked up the pen and signed the receipt. She handed it back to Marvin, who put it into the appropriate slot in the cash register. “I’m sorry for suddenly bringing this up. I just...I’ve been thinking about them lately.”

“You had t’get it off your mind, it’s alrigh’,” Marvin nodded. “I just hope t’at you don’ do t’at wit’ every cashier.”

Stacy laughed suddenly. “No, don’t worry. I suppose that...because I recognized you, it just all came spilling out. I’m still so sorry. I promise I’m not usually like that.”

“It’s really alrigh’. Now, d’you need a bag?”

“Oh. Oh right. Yes, please.” Again, Stacy fell silent, watching as Marvin slid the books into a bag. “Thank you.” She took it from him, then cleared her throat. “Well...perhaps I’ll see you soon.”

“Perhaps. G’bye, Miss Stacy. Feel free to return anytime.”

Marvin turned to the cash register and pretended to mess with it while Stacy left. He didn’t move until he heard the bell at the store’s entrance chime merrily. Then he slumped. “Well.” It was all he could say. “Well.” That was...a very odd encounter. He wasn’t too familiar with Stacy, but he knew enough to know that was sort of out of character. It must have really been weighing on her. He couldn’t help but wonder if she had anyone she could talk to about this.

He shook his head. This wasn’t the time to think about this. He was at work, and in fact he could see another customer heading towards the till. Marvin straightened, put his best customer service smile on, and got back to work.

———————

The darkness was almost complete. Almost being the key word. There was a sliver of gray light coming from underneath the closet door. He pressed his face to the floor to peer out from under it. Why was everything in this place, even the light, tinted with gray? But gray was better than pure blackness, so he stayed close to the small bit of light.

It felt like the room was getting smaller. He knew it wasn’t, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling. And he could barely move as it was, his legs pressed against the wall. Maybe it was smaller than last time. Maybe that was why he thought it was shrinking.

Everything was cramped. His throat was dry, and his stomach clenched painfully. How long had it been? Must’ve been almost a day. A day since he...he couldn’t remember what he did, but he remembered that it got angry with him. “If you’re going to be like that, then I’ll just leave you alone!” It had shouted.

He didn’t want to be left alone anymore. Slowly, he reached up and knocked on the closet door. “Are you th...?” he asked, quieter than he wanted. He cleared his throat and hit the door again. “Are you here? Can you hear me? I...I’m sorry.” His voice broke on the last word. “Please, I’m sorry.”

There was no answer. He pushed himself into a sitting position, pausing for a moment as his head spun, and banged against the door as hard as he could. “Can you hear me?!” he yelled. “Please! I’m sorry, jus’...jus’ let me out!”

Long after his fists started to hurt, the voice came from the other side. “Did I hear you asking for me?”

He rested his forehead against the wood of the door. “Please...I-I’m sorry. Jus’ please, please let me out.”

“Oh? But didn’t you want to be alone?” Its voice was mocking him. “Didn’t you want me to go?”

“No...” he whispered, slumping downward. “No, I don’ want t’at.”

“Well, what do you want, then?”

A sob escaped his throat. He wanted to know where he was and why he was here. He wanted to get out of this twisted house. He wanted his cards back. He wanted his life back. He wanted to see his friends and family again. He wanted to go home.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite catch that.”

But of course, it didn’t want to hear any of that. It only wanted to hear one thing. “I want...to be with you. Because...we’re friends.”

Silence. And then the door slowly opened. With his weight resting against it, he fell forward. Right into a pair of arms. He shuddered, but didn’t pull away. “I’m glad you remembered that,” the voice said cheerfully. “We really shouldn’t fight like this, you know. But you’re sorry, so it’s okay.”

He nodded, and closed his eyes.

———————

Marvin woke up, breathing hard. His throat hurt, like he’d been crying out without even knowing about it. Just like every other time he woke up, he turned on the light and scanned the bedroom.

“Hello again.”

He tried to cry out, but it turned into a wheezy rasp. It was him. Distorter. Standing in the corner of his bedroom and grinning. Immediately, Marvin made to get away, scrambling out of bed and falling onto the floor. He grabbed the nightstand and pulled himself up, then ran for the door.

“Ah ah ah.” Just as Marvin reached for the doorknob, a blackened hand grabbed his wrist, and then the other, pulling his arms back. “I need a favor, Marvy.”

“Don’t call me—!”

He wasn’t able to finish the sentence. Distorter yanked him backwards and threw him to the ground, slamming him hard against the floor. While Marvin was still dazed, he wrapped his hand around his neck and pressed down. Marvin choked and instinctively grabbed Distorter’s hand to try and stop him. “Now that I have your attention,” Distorter said calmly. “I want you to deliver a message. Because he probably won’t listen to me, so I’ll ask you.”

Eyes wide, Marvin shook his head. “I’d never—”

“It’s just a small favor. Calm down.” Distorter pressed his other hand against Marvin’s mouth. “You look so upset. You should smile more.” He leaned closer, the blood from his eyes dripping onto Marvin’s face. “Listen to me. Only listen to me. No room for anything else.”

Thoughts were becoming difficult. Marvin struggled to move, but he kept...kept forgetting. Forgetting...something. Did it really...did it really matter? What was happening...?

“Listen to me.”

———————

There was a door. He knew it, recognized it, but the details couldn’t pierce the thick gray fog in his brain. His hand reached out, and he watched it, as if it wasn’t his at all, but someone else’s. And the hand knocked.

When nobody answered, he knocked again.

And again. Much harder.

That one finally got a response: “Alright, I’m fucking coming, don’t break the door down!”

Footsteps from the inside, and then the door opened. A man was standing there, brown hair and green-and-blue eyes, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt with some sort of band logo on it. The man was familiar, very familiar, and he struggled to remember. But the gears of his mind were clogged up with gray cotton, and he fell back down into the fog. “Marvin?” The man asked, surprised. “What are you—your eyes!”

He took a step forward, staggered, and fell against the man, who stumbled in turn but caught him. “...hhhnntsseeeyuhh.” A garble of sounds fell out of his mouth.

“M-Marv? What...?” The man stepped backwards and awkwardly reached around to close the door. “It’s him, isn’t it? What did he do?”

He blinked, and the motion caused two streams of warm red liquid to slip from his eyes. Those eyes locked onto the man’s face. That’s him, whispered a voice. Tell him what I told you. A voice that didn’t stand out at all, yet he couldn’t stop listening to it. Give him the message. The only thing in the gray fog that gave him a purpose, so he listened. He stared at the man, looking at him so worried, and said, “He wants to see you.”

The man was silent. “He does, huh? Well, he could’ve told me himself instead of...this.”

A light appeared in the corner of his vision. A green light. He glanced in that direction. A small green sphere was floating in the air, flicking a tail. An eyeball. It came closer, and the light was...piercing. Shining through the fog. He stared at it, transfixed.

“You don’t look so good. Here, sit down.” The man pulled him toward a sofa and set him down, crouching down across from him so their eyes were level. “Did this fucker have anything else to say to me?”

The address. The return of the voice made him look away from the green light from the eyeball. Strange, it sounded quieter when he was staring at the light. “68 Aspen Street,” he said, monotone. “Three days from now, at noon.”

“68 on Aspen?” The man repeated, confused. Then his eyes widened. “That’s the—Are you sure?”

“68 Aspen Street. Three days from now, at noon.”

“Goddammit, Marvin, snap out of this!” The man grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “He’s treating you like a fucking puppet, it’s sick! You’re so much more than that. Wake up!”

He blinked again. Those words...they were echoing through the fog, but muffled. Still, he felt like he should focus on them. On this man.

“C’mon, c’mon.” The man shook him again. “How’d you get here? Jackson couldn’t have driven you. Did you walk?”

Jackson? Jackson, Jackson...J...JJ? Did he walk here without him? He’d be upset about that...about him pushing himself.

That eyeball appeared in front of him again, shining even brighter. He heard the man��he knew him he knew him—gasp, but he was too focused on the light. It hurt his eyes, hurt his head—no, it hurt the fog inside his head. It was...burning it away.

Wait, where was he? He’d been here before. It was a friend’s home, wasn’t it? A friend...who was staring at him.

Something suddenly snapped. Marvin gasped. “Anti!”

“Oh thank god,” Anti sighed, relieved. The small eyeball—Sam, it was Sam—flew forward and bopped against Marvin’s forehead. “What happened?”

“I...don’t quite remember.” Marvin shook his head. “‘T’s all...foggy.”

“Well. That’s okay.” Anti leaned back. “Do you want me to call someone?”

“I...Jems. Can you call him?” Marvin’s voice sounded very small. “I want to go home.”

“Right. I’ll text him.” Anti took his phone out of his pocket and started typing.

“Right.” Marvin felt himself slowly listing to the side, and he let it happen, lying on the sofa. Sam flew down and settled on his head, their glow slowly pulsing. He didn’t really notice.

“So...you’re alright?” Anti asked.

Marvin didn’t answer for a while. Anti waited, but eventually got up and started to walk away. It was then that Marvin spoke up. “Why...do I never do enough?”

Anti turned back to him. “You do what you can. I mean, who would be Jackson’s best friend if you weren’t here? Who’d I go to the pub with? Who’d look after Mr. Flufflington?” He paused. “If you ask me, all that sounds like enough.”

Marvin stared at him. He nodded. “Alrigh’.”

“Alright.” Anti turned away again. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“T’anks.” Marvin let his eyes fall shut.

Maybe he should just rest. He was so tired. He should let himself rest.

[hallowxiu]

You’re Hot

Pairing: Satan x gn!mc

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary:  After your attempt with Lucifer, you decide to try your luck with pick up lines on the next brother in your sights… Satan.

A/N: I got this idea from prompt 340 from the account Creative Writing Prompts :) 

Part 2 of the MC isn’t good at pick up lines series lol

part one

“Do ya really think this’ll work?” Mammon asks with a bored tone, the male picking at his nails as he sits on your bed while you pace back and forth in the middle of your room.

“Well, no, not really.” The two of you are having an emergency meeting, as you personally like to label it, after your failed attempt of using a pick up line on Lucifer. To say that Mammon laughed when you explained just how much you failed would be an understatement. You’re convinced he grew a set of abs with how much he enjoyed your misery. You won’t dwell on it though, no, this is a challenge that you’re set on winning. “But, I figured using pick up lines on Satan would be good practice.”

“Good practice for what, exactly?” Mammon asks with a raised eyebrow.

You stop your pacing and think, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. With a shrug of your shoulders, you look at Mammon with a smile. “I dunno.” Mammon stares at you blankly before sighing in defeat.

“Ya sure are weird.” He huffs and leans back on your bed to get comfortable. “Have ya thought of any pick up lines to use on him?”

“Nope.” You admit with a sheepish grin and he sighs again.

“Have ya even considered the type of pick up lines he’d like? Ya can’t just waltz up to him and expect him to like the shit ya tried on Lucifer.” You feel your eyebrow twitch at Mammon’s words. You hated it when he was right.

“Man, Lucifer didn’t even like the pick up line I tried on him!” Well, more like he didn’t understand the pick up line you tried on him. “And now I have to sit through a lecture of his later on the history of fallen angels. I just have to try and make sure I don’t end up running into the same issue with him, though Satan doesn’t really strike me as the lecture type.”

“I think Satan would rather drop dead than give ya a lecture if it’s not about a favorite book of his.” Mammon snorts before sitting back up; that man’s always restless. “That being said, ya should probably find out what type of pick up line would work best on him. Ya can’t use the same type for everyone. Ya gotta find one that matches his interests.”

“Since when were you so good with pick up lines?”

“Ya picked me, didn’t ya? Besides, I’ve spent time with Asmo. The man’s practically spewin’ out pick up lines on the daily.”

“Things that match Satan’s interests…” You tap your chin with your index finger. You sit yourself down on the floor, hands resting on your knees as you stare up at Mammon in thought.

“And what type of pick up lines are ya goin’ for? Are ya tryin’ to romance him? Or do ya just want to throw him for a loop?” You hadn’t thought of that either. Really, when did Mammon become so knowledgeable with this stuff? “Satan’s the type of guy where if ya bat your lashes at him, he’ll probably end up followin’ ya around all day like a lost puppy. Don’t wanna lead the guy on or anythin’.”

“You’re being significantly more helpful than you were earlier. If you had done this with Lucifer, I probably would be free of a lecture tonight.”

Mammon’s eye twitches as he glares down at you from his place on your bed. “Hey, keep that shit up and I’ll leave ya here on your own!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You wave him off with a disinterested sigh. You needed to make a list of things Satan likes, which shouldn’t be too hard. You jump back up to your feet, Mammon startling where he sits from the sudden burst of energy. You grab a notebook from your desk, flipping to an empty page and grab a marker. After a minute or two of you quietly scribbling things down, you show off your list to Mammon, similar to a proud child showing their parents a drawing they made.

“Cats...books...uh,” his eyebrows furrow as he looks at the list closer, “did ya actually write ‘smart things’?” You let out a sheepish chuckle as you scratch at the back of your neck. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Maybe it’s because I’ve been hanging out with you too much. I’m losing brain cells by the minute; maybe I should charge you a fee for killing so many off.”

Mammon shoots you a scandalized look before scoffing loudly, “ya were stupid before ya arrived to the Devildom! Don’t act like this is on me.” Before you can counter his attack, Mammon begins to speak again. “Satan isn’t the type who would like pick up lines about books. I also don’t think he’d appreciate cat ones either; they seem a little too cheesy for him.” You take his words into consideration before turning the list over in your hands and scribbling the first two options off the list. “So that just leaves us with…” Another sigh escapes Mammon from where he sits. “And what on earth does that possibly suggest?”

“I don’t know!” You let out a flustered shout as you squirm under his gaze. “Just smart things! Things smart people would enjoy! Physics? Science? Wait-- physics and science are the same thing, right? Oh god, what are smart things? Frogs?”

“Frogs?”

“It’s the first thing that came to my mind, don’t judge me!” You’re a little too flustered now.

“He likes politics. Why don’t ya look up pick up lines on politics? Maybe there’s some out there on the internet; some weirdo has got to like them.” He comments while digging his D.D.D out of his pocket. Within a few seconds there’s a frown on his face. “There aren’t many… and the ones that I found-- well, they’re fuckin’ awful.” Just before you can both give up and admit defeat, an excited gasp leaves Mammon’s mouth and his phone screen is immediately shoved in your face. “What about this one?”

You move your face back just enough so you could actually read the words on his screen. A grin forms on your lips when you read it over once. “This is perfect! He’ll be swooning, I just know it.”

“He’ll probably be impressed too that ya know so much about global warmin’ and what not. We really outdid ourselves with this one.” There’s a smug smile on his face that’s nearly identical to yours. “So, what are we doin’ wastin’ time here? Stop sittin’ around and find Satan!” You want to argue that Mammon’s the one sitting around, but you decide to let it go just this once.

❀❀❀❀

“Target sighted.” You find yourself reporting to Mammon via an old walkie-talkie. It wasn’t your idea, and you didn’t know why you couldn’t just text Mammon yourself, but the white haired demon insisted that this would be a more convenient means of communication. You didn’t even know that Mammon had these hidden around in his room, but you guess you shouldn’t be too surprised. With the antics Mammon’s always up to, you probably didn’t want to know why he had these in the first place.

“Awesome. Where’s he at?” Mammon’s voice, accompanied with static, rings through the speaker.

“The library; where else?”

“Fair enough. Alright then, go make your move. Wait,” he quickly cuts himself off and for a second you’re worried that Lucifer somehow found out about this, “do ya remember the line?” You breathe out a sigh of relief before rolling your eyes while turning the volume down. You’ll be amazed if Satan didn’t already know you were lingering outside the library with how loud Mammon is.

“Of course I remember the line. It’s just a sentence.”

“Alright, alright. Jeesh, I’m just tryin’ to help; sue a demon for tryin’.” Just before you can switch off your walkie-talkie, you hear the static pick up again with your name being called. “Wait, leave it on. I wanna hear how it goes.”

You debate for a moment, you could easily leave it off and tell him that you turned it off long before he asked for you to leave it on. You sigh though, already knowing that he wouldn’t buy it. “Fine, but you better not make a single peep, Mammon.” With him confirming to stay silent, you turn the volume nearly to zero before stuffing it in your back pocket. Clearing your throat once, you knock on the library door before pushing it open. “Satan?” You call out, your eyes scanning the room for the familiar blond.

“Over here.” His voice calls from the back of the room. As you approach the fourth oldest, you smile to yourself when seeing him surrounded by a pile of books on the library couch.

“Keeping yourself entertained?” You ask gingerly as you peer over the pile. “Have you been in here all day?”

“Nearly.” He responds, barely looking up from the book that held his attention from his current stretched out position. He reminds you of a cat with the way he’s laying around. You look down to see what he’s reading, a smirk forming on your lips when seeing the title. “You’re reading a book about global warming?” Sometimes you’re amazed with how well the universe lines things up for you.

“Mhm.” He responds lazily. “It’s a topic I’m interested in. I like learning about problems in the human realm and how they react to them. Who would’ve thought that the issue of global warming would be such a controversy there?” He’s sitting up now, though he’s still reading from his book. You wonder how he can pay attention to you while also paying attention to the book he’s reading.

“What do you mean?”

He moves over so that you can sit next to him, an eyebrow raising on his expression. “Well, both the Celestial Realm and the Devildom know about global warming, and the cause is also extremely obvious to us. It’s both humorous and disappointing that the humans don’t understand what’s causing it, and it’s even more mind blowing that some of them believe that it’s a made up concept. If anything, I look into these types of topics simply so I can see the perspective of humans.” You can’t believe how well Satan’s setting you up for your pick up line. Maybe this would actually work out in your favor for once.

“I know the cause of global warming.” You announce a little too proud.

“Oh?” There’s a look of amusement on Satan’s face as he places his book down beside him, giving you his full attention. “Do tell. I’d love to hear your perspective, this could help me further understand your species and--”

“You must be the reason for global warming because you’re so hot.”

Full silence. You can’t even hear the faint static of your walkie-talkie, and you think Satan might’ve stopped breathing. Maybe you should say something? Did he take offense to that? If you listen closer to the silence, you might hear Mammon laughing at you from somewhere in the house. “Ah, well, I suppose I did want to learn more about the human perspective…” He lets out a disappointed sigh before forcing a smile onto his face. This was too much to bear, you think dying in a hole somewhere would be a more pleasing option.

“Y-You know what? I think I hear Lucifer calling for me. Probably failed another test or something, I should go see what he wants.” You’re quick to excuse yourself as you scramble off the couch with a red face.

“Oh? But I don’t hear anything.” He says with a slight frown. “While I am flattered, actually, it’s primarily because of too much carbon dioxide in the atmosphere.” His eyes never leave you as you awkwardly try to step over one of the piles of books, instead tripping over your own feet and knocking the stack over. You didn’t want to sit for a lecture; you should have never used a “smart things” pick up line when you still had Lucifer’s lecture on fallen angels to listen to.

“Really?” You ask absentmindedly as you clumsily try to stack the books back on top one another. “I didn’t know that.” You need to get out of here, and fast. You could tell Satan was about to go on an educational lecture and you only had seconds to flee. Suddenly, before you can dart past the now fixed books, a hand with a strong grip wraps around your wrist.

“Tell me,” he speaks your name with an eerily serene smile on his face, “have you ever heard of a carbon footprint?”

[foxcantswim]

Timeless Jealousy

13th Doctor x Reader https://archiveofourown.org/works/22981072

A/N: Apologies if this idea has already been done! I also understand that this episode is set in the 1800s... So I can't promise that everything fits in with this time period.

Reader gets jealous after seeing Byron flirt with the Doctor...

-x-

You knew what Byron was playing at. And you didn't like it. Not. One. Bit.

You refused to dance, watching the Doctor and Byron getting just a little bit too close. You gritted your teeth, fists clenching.

"So... that was marvelous. Is anyone up for, I don't know, I'm spit-balling here, how about writing the most gruesome, spine-chilling ghost story of all time?" the Doctor quickly stopped the dancing, wanting to get straight down to business.

Yaz had come over to make sure you were okay, you nodded and assured her that you were fine. You both headed over to the Doctor. The Doctor began to speak, but your thoughts managed to drown out the Time Lord's words. You were focused on Byron who was on the other side of the room.

"Excuse me, Doctor. You broke a rule. Next, you'll be snogging Byron," Yaz stated. That made you flinch slightly. Just the thought made your blood boil.

"I was trying to get them back on track. Something's wrong here. This night, Byron challenges Mary, Polidori and Percy Shelley to come up with a ghost story-" the Doctor spoke. You caught onto Byron, he had been glancing at the Doctor every now and then.

Yaz nudged you to break you away from your stare, "Keep an eye on 'em," she said to you as the Doctor made her way over to Byron, "You and I both know how Byron can get."

She knew about your little crush on the Doctor. Well... 'Little' is an understatement. You decided to deny your crush again, "I don't need to keep an eye on them. The Doc can do what she want-"

"Shut up, (Y/N)," she rolled her eyes, "No matter how much you deny it, anyone can see it."

Well, the Doctor can't see it. Always so oblivious.

Yaz's eyes drifted towards the door, "Don't worry. You two will be fine," she assured before giving you a comforting pat on your shoulder, she then went to leave the room.

-x-

You tried to focus on the sound of the sonic screwdriver, anything to divert your attention away from Byron.

"She walks in beauty, like the night," Byron muttered.

The Doctor continued, "Of cloudless climes and starry skies."

"I'm intensely flattered you're familiar with my work, Mrs Doctor..." Byron grinned. You glared.

"Just Doctor is fine. I'm quite into Shelley's stuff too. He about?" she replied. The tension in the room was thick, and you were the cause of it. You were giving off a slight threatening energy which Byron had clocked onto. He knew that he infuriated you. And he decided to continue.

"(Y/N)?" the Doctor questioned.

Your attention quickly moved from Byron to her, "Y-Yeah?"

She stepped closer, a look of concern clearly present within her eyes, "You haven't spoken much today. Everything all right?"

You nodded, "I'm fine. Well... As fine as I can be in a place like this," you stated as a shiver ran up your spine.

"You sure?" she said, clearly not convinced.

Nodding again, "Cross my heart."

She shook her head, not accepting that answer. Stepping forward, she caught you off guard and grabbed your hand, "Give us a minute," she looked at Byron.

He gave a questionable look before standing aside. The Doctor dragged you out the room and into the hallway. She quickly released your hand before retrieving her sonic screwdriver. She stood close and began to scan you, practically backing you into a wall, "You've been off since we arrived..." she said as a red tint graced your cheeks. The Doctor then shone the sonic into your eyes, trying to get any sort of reading.

"Tryin' to blind me there, Doc?" you squinted, trying to tilt your head away.

She still had a look of concern on her face as she put the sonic away, "Something's bothering you," she decided, "Don't try to lie your way out of this one. I need you to be one hundred percent whilst we're here. Can't have you faltering."

You sighed, "It's noth-"

"(Y/N)," the Doctor glared, "Something is bothering you. You are never this quiet."

"Okay, okay," you said, trying to ignore the little space between you two, "I just... I don't like the way he's looking at you."

"Who?" she said, completely oblivious.

"Byron," you said with venom.

She sighed, before a playful grin replaced the frown, "Ah... I see. Don't worry about that," she stepped back, "We promised not to mess with history, and that's what we're doing."

That wasn't exactly the answer you were hoping for... If this didn't mess with history... Would she be interested in Byron. You shook your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts.

The Doctor's smile remained on her face as she reached for you hand again, "I'm not interested in him, okay?" she assured before dragging you back into the room.

-x-

You stayed behind the Doctor as you ran towards the drawing room, Byron was on your heels. You all arrived to see a... hand? Everyone managed to get the hand away from Ryan, Fletcher dished out the final blow. Dust now covered the carpet where the hand used to be.

"Great shot!" the Doctor announced before she made her way over to the remains. You and the rest of the 'fam' knew what was coming next. The Doctor leaned down to take a sample and lick it, "Hmm. 14th. No... 15th century-" the Doctor trailed off.

A smile spread across your face, finding all of the Doctor's little weird quirks fascinating.

"She licked it!" Claire exclaimed.

The smile on your face didn't last long at all, "She is the most baffling creature I've ever been acquainted with," Byron breathed out with a smirk. You glared once more... If looks could kill.

-x-

"If you ask me..." Yaz began as you all made your way towards Byron's chambers. The Doctor was up front with Byron, leading the way. You had stuck at the back with Yaz, "You should just tell her."

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Imagine that. Me with an all mighty Time Lord. Never gonna happen," you were surprised that Yaz could hear you over the loud crash of lightning.

"Yaz is right," Ryan said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

Yaz smiled, "Never hurts to try."

You suppressed a groan, really not wanting to be a part of this conversation.

Everyone rounded a corner and soon they arrived. Walking into Byron's chambers made your skin crawl... Anything that related to him was bad in your books.

"It's a collection," Byron explained as people gathered in the room.

"Of what? Dead stuff?" Ryan questioned.

"Relics of war."

The Doctor began to wave the sonic screwdriver around the room, scanning for any abnormalities.

"From my travels..." Byron continued, "Reminders that we tread on the dust of empires. Crops now grow where blood was split. An innocent fascination, I assure you."

Anything he said really seemed to tick you off... You weren't jealous. Definitely not. No. Never.

You noticed the Doctor's face light up, she put on some headgear she had discovered, "What do you think?" she said, practically showing off her new helmet.

"Suits you," you offered her a warm smile, she smiled back in return - seemingly glad that you liked it.

-x-

"Well, he just turned sort of zombie and went into one," Graham said with concern.

"What do you speak of? What is a zombie?" Byron questioned.

The Doctor explained, "Kind of a dead person walking, but it won't be that."

"Hey, Doc?" you said, trying to get the woman's attention as she spoke to Graham via the fireplace chimney.

"How do you know?" Byron wondered.

She replied, "Because Polidori isn't dead, for a kick-off."

"D-Doctor?!" you said, your voice starting to tremble more as you noticed Polidori's figure walking in through the wall.

"Mrs Doctor!" Claire tried to get her attention too.

"Really, just Doctor is fine..."

"Doc, Polidori!" you said, now that she was listening. The blonde turned quickly to see him looking like a ghost.

Byron had decided to hide behind Claire, "Begone, demon!" he exclaimed. You glared at him in disgust before looking back at the Doctor once more.

The Doctor took a cautious step towards Polidori, "Doc-"

She cut you off, looking towards you, "It's okay," she assured before looking back at Polidori. The Doctor then raised a hand to check for a pulse, "Pulse? Check. Breathing? Check."

Byron's voice filled the room, "May I just say..." he started, "You are quite lovely in a crisis."

"No-" both you and the Doctor said. The Doctor looked at you in shock, you did your best to avoid eye contact. Byron and Claire looked between both you and the Doctor, unsure of what to say. Byron ended up smirking, understanding the situation quite clearly.

Claire decided to break the silence, clearing her throat, "So... He could just be- be asleep, correct? He walks in his sleep!"

Byron scoffed, "One does not sleepwalk through walls."

The Doctor quickly diverted her gaze away from you, "H-He doesn't just go through walls. He was downstairs a second ago," she looked at Byron, "What you said before..."

"About being lovely?" he smiled, glancing over towards. You bit your tongue.

The Doctor was growing annoyed, "Back a bit."

"Way way back," you added, glaring daggers.

Byron chuckled, "What a feisty one you have here, Doctor," he said, pacing the room.

"Byron-" Claire began to warn before he hushed her.

"We haven't got time for this," the Doctor groaned, "By-"

"Don't you see, Doctor?!" he said, "I can't think in these conditions. What with your pet staring at me all the time."

"You little sh-" you muttered before the Doctor cut you off.

"I would really appreciate it if you didn't talk to my friends like that," she said, clear anger lacing her voice, "We're trying to help."

"Help?!" Byron said, "All she's done is look at me as if she wants to kill me!"

The Doctor looked at you before you could stop yourself from glaring at Byron once again, "(Y/N)?" she asked, "He's clearly done something to upset you," she stepped closer, "What is it?" The Doctor wasn't too fond with having Polidori in his current state just standing there but she had to get to the bottom of this. Claire kept her eye on the unresponsive man.

"Nothing!" you exclaimed. The Doctor clocked onto your annoyance... "Absolutely nothing!" She also clocked onto the light sadness that glazed over your words.

"Come on, Doctor," Byron said, "We can solve this... Alone."

That was it. Byron was getting way too close to the Doctor. Thinking back on Yaz's words... You reached forward to grab the Doctor's coat, effectively pulling her closer. Your lips crashed onto hers just before she could protest her confusion. The lack of movement on the Doctor's end had you worried.

You could hear Byron's scoff of disgust and shock.

You were about to pull away, happy with your action - clearly showing Byron to back off. But, you were quickly pulled back by the Doctor who was now responding with eagerness - her arms had secured themselves around you.

"Erm..." Claire gulped, "D-Doctor, I-I don't want to... cut you short or anything. But shouldn't we be worried about Polidori."

The Doctor's face retreated from yours quickly, "Of course!" she exclaimed in triumph, her arms were removed from around you, "Why didn't I think of that!"

"Wh-What?" you stuttered, breathless.

"Have you figured all this out Doctor?" Claire wondered.

"Yes!" she said, excited.

Byron was now glaring at you this time as he spoke to the Doctor, "Well don't leave us in the dark. Enlighten us."

"Jealousy!" she shouted.

"J-Jealousy, Doctor?" Claire questioned in complete confusion.

You felt your cheeks heat up as a nervous laughter escaped, "N-Now... Come on, Doc... No time for joking around-"

The Doctor's brain finally caught up with all the recent events, her smile turning into a look of complete shock, "Ohhh... That's why you were acting like this."

"Doc-"

She cut you off again, "You don't need to be jealous. Especially not because of him," she glanced at Byron.

"Can you two focus on the task at hand?!" Byron exclaimed, annoyed.

"I agree," Claire said, "Polidori is still... Not himself."

-x-

Everybody had regrouped in the drawing room after the Doctor had gotten everybody out of their endless loops, most were admiring the skull and hand under the glass that had been recently been captured.

Byron's eyes focused on the Doctor as she made her way over to you.

"Erm... Doc..." you started, leaning against a desk, "I wanted to apologise for my actions earlier. I just wanted Byron to stop interrupting the investi-"

"You have nothing to apologise for," she assured before a curious look appeared on her face, "Is that the only reason you did that? You weren't jealous were you?"

"Pfft, jealous? Me? Never."

"Terrible liar," the Doctor said with a soft smile. Her hand moved to gently cup your cheek as she kissed your forehead. Your heartbeat quickened in response, "Now once all the rubbish is over... and when we get back to the TARDIS we can talk about this."

"O-Okay," you nodded in agreement.

Just when you thought she was going to step away, she did the opposite. She managed to step closer and you soon felt her lips crash against yours, you felt relief wash over you as she portrayed urgency. Both of you knew that you had to deal with the problem at hand, which caused the Doctor to pull away. You missed the contact, but hopefully there would be time for this later.

Both you and the Doctor noticed Byron's glare, "I think it's Byron's turn to be jealous," the Doctor decided as she stood next to you and put an arm around your shoulders, you began to make your way over towards Byron and the others.

You were just itching to just get this over with. You were excited for what the future holds.

-x-

A/N: The sequel would just be Reader getting killed by Cybermen or something like that cuz I really like angst.

[cthulhuoflongisland]

Fem Roadrat fic below, they’re in love and they bang:

They tore out of Australia like Mako’s fist through a paper screen.

That had been the easy part. The mad dash in the raft to get out, fueled by adrenaline and the knowledge that if Junkrat kept running her gigantic mouth, Mako would be out of a job quicker than it began. The world deserves this, she tells herself as Junkrat chatters away beside her, contained energy making her muscles shake and her voice come out high and giggling. She can’t let this scrawny slip of a woman get choked out before she gives this godforsaken planet what it’s earned, after all.

Junkrat fills Mako’s silence easily, fingers twitching and eyes wild. She never stops for more than a minute, but forgets frequently what she’s talking about. She has no regret or remorse for what she plans to do, or the destruction she plans to bring. She delights, in fact, at the possibility of it without an ounce of shame. Without tears or hesitation or any reflection at all.

The world deserves this, Mako tells herself.

The world deserves this.

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

The hard part comes much later, shoved into a tiny motel room with one bathroom and a shower so small it wouldn’t fit half of Mako’s body. There’s a single queen-sized bed, and for now Mako’s claimed it, thumbing through a water-stained romance novel as Junkrat tries and fails to relax.

The heart pounding exhilaration has receded, after a lot of heists and daring escapes, and now they’re forced to hole up in places like these between jobs. At first, the novelty of vaguely soft sheets and tiny bottles of shampoo were enough to stave off Junkrat’s complaints, but she’s bent over the desk now, tinkering with her arm and periodically letting out growls of frustration. More accurately, Junkrat is cycling between taking apart and reassembling her prosthetic for twenty minutes at a time and then pacing around the room with a sour look on her face while Mako silently rereads the same paragraph about Elizabeth tearing her corset off to succumb to her base desires. 

The cycle breaks when Junkrat flings herself onto Mako’s belly in a display of aggravation that’s so familiar at this point that Mako doesn’t bother to push her away or tell her to knock it off, or even look up from her book. 

“ Roadie.”

She turns the page.

“ Roadie.”

“ What.”

Junkrat tries to hide the stupid smile she gets on her face every time Mako responds to her, like Mako hasn’t learned to pick up on it. She wriggles to a position where she can look up into the eyeholes of Mako’s mask, which requires her to shove her head under the romance novel Mako has yet to put down and rest her pointy, pointy chin on Mako’s rather expansive breasts.

“ Was just wonderin’ when you’d be finished.”

Mako rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, too used to this game to be truly irritated. “ Won’t be for a while if you keep this up.”

Junkrat squishes her sharp cheek against Mako’s cleavage, like they’re well-worn pillows and not human flesh. Mako’s gotten used to the sharp pinch of her, and lays the book down with a sigh. She lays her massive palm on top of Junkrat’s head, pushing her face into Mako’s chest, which makes her cackle and squirm, like she couldn’t suffocate and die there if Mako willed it. Mako ignores the fluttering feeling in her stomach when Junkrat stills and relaxes, only barely twitching when Mako withdraws her hand.

Those eyes meet hers as Junkrat begins to chatter again, subdued and almost focused. Mako silently strokes a thumb over her jaw as she listens, absorbing nothing, not willing to acknowledge that she could spend forever like this.

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

Junkrat stands there, wreathed in flame as she throws her head back and howls with laughter, like all she could ever want is this destruction. Like it fuels her. Makes her. She’s nothing but fire in the vague shape of a woman, lithe muscles glistening in the warm light. If Mako were a weaker woman, she’d fall to her knees and worship her in awed silence, but instead she looks away and stares at the shattered glass of the suits’ offices, as if she can’t see Junkrat’s reflection in the pieces. 

She loves her then. It burns (God, it burns) just like the heat that radiates off of her, her blonde hair wild and stained with soot, a reminder that Junkrat claws her way into everything and everyone with no regard for anything but herself. Mako savors it as she fires bullets into the back of another snivelling billionaire, ready to let it cave her chest in. They all deserve what they get, and Mako meets their empty pleas with the pull of her trigger. The ones that charge her find their skulls crushed and their lips silent, and it’s only when all of them are dead that she realizes her lungs are rattling and she’s bent over a broken desk. 

Junkrat’s fingers are at her back, scorching hot, and suddenly her mask is filled with gas. Mako gasps it in and feels her lungs clear with every breath, Junkrat’s metal hand pressing the canister to its opening until it clatters to the floor, empty. Her smile is wild and crooked as it ever was, and God, she has no idea. No idea what Mako would do to kiss that smile, to keep it on her lips all the time. 

Mako can’t pretend anymore after that, but stays silent. 

There are some things she doesn’t deserve.

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

In another motel, a coast away somewhere on Long Island, Mako lays next to Rat on a bed too small for either of them. It’s four in the morning, too dark to see and too cold for summer, but Junkrat has been talking for hours now, mostly to herself. Mako lets her, knowing that she’ll eventually trick her brain into shutting off, and quietly enjoys the drone of Junkrat’s mismatched ideas. She’s half-way to dozing when Junkrat turns to face her, groping for her arm in the dark.

“ You listenin’ to me?”

Mako grunts, not in the mood to speak.

“ I said, what was it like? B’fore the omnium?”

Mako grits her teeth, letting out a long breath. She hates this question. It always comes back to this, and no amount of silence can deter Junkrat from asking.

“ Less fucked up. Bugs were a lot smaller.”

She can practically feel Junkrat’s eyes roll, and she slaps the mattress in frustration. “ Fuck’s sake, you really weren’t listenin’, were you? I was talkin’ about pickin’ up girls. Used to be easier, didn’t it?”

Mako really must have been half-asleep, because she has no fucking idea how Junkrat stumbled onto this subject. She’s suddenly wide awake, not sure if she’s about to give herself away.

“...Some ways. Depends on why you were pickin’ ‘em up.” Fucking got a lot easier in the wasteland. There were no more nice bars for Mako to sit at, making women blush and taking their numbers home. It all became physical, rougher and faster and leaving Mako wanting for something deeper.

Rat shifts, incentivized by such a long response. “ Yeah? Bet you were good at it.” Her voice lowers a little, and her hand stays on Mako’s bicep. “ Ladies love the big quiet types. Ain’t ever had much luck, m’self, squawkin’ ‘n spillin’ my drinks.”

Mako sits up, her stomach turning at where this is headed. She can’t bring herself to shrug Rat off and go back to sleep, though. Her heart pounds against her rib-cage, and it’s as if she’s found something she’d thought had burned away years ago. Her mouth opens, and she can’t stop the words from spilling out of her throat. 

“ You’re young. Pretty. Wait a while longer and someone’ll snatch you up.”

Junkrat jerks away, like Mako’s reached out and shocked her. A truck passes by and the light that blares through the window lets Mako see her face, chapped lips parted in surprise and those big, amber eyes wider than Mako’s ever seen them. She wonders if Rat can see her, too, and if the brief flash of light makes her look half as perfect.

“ Since when d’you think I’m pretty?”

Mako pauses, unsure of how to answer, but Rat snatches up the silence and fills it herself. 

“ Are you tellin’ me we coulda been fucking this whole time an’ here I was thinkin’ you didn’t like me?”

“Jesus,” says Mako, rubbing a hand over her face, “ I said you’re pretty. I didn’t say I wanted to fist you.”

“ But that’s what you meant!” Rat is suddenly climbing on top of her, jittery and overjoyed. “ I know I ain’t pretty. That’s just what people say when they wanna get in my pants.”

Mako’s heart sinks, her face softening as she strokes the hair out of Rat’s face and behind her ear. “ Rat.” Her hand runs down to trace over Junkrat’s features, worshipping them in the dark instead of just fantasizing about it. “ You’re pretty.”

Rat slows, awed by Mako’s admiration. She lays flat against Mako’s body, so their faces are inches apart, her breath tickling Mako’s cheek. Mako wonders how many stupid men have called her ugly, told her she was too bony, too tall, too strange to be attractive. Mako would kill all of them with her bare hands if she could find them.

“ I’m not saying that to fuck you. I just want you to know.”

Rat nuzzles against Mako’s palm like an affectionate cat, and then steals a kiss from Mako’s scarred, unsuspecting lips. Her nose pokes Mako’s cheek, and her back arches when Mako’s hands, huge and strong and warm, wrap around her tiny waist. Mako feels herself fall into that heat almost instinctively, her surprise melting away and giving rise to slow pleasure.

“ I think yer pretty, too,” says Rat as she pulls away with a smack, filling Mako’s silence for the millionth time, “ Real pretty. You make me wetter ‘n a hurricane.”

Mako snorts, but doesn’t take her hands off Rat, who melds against her like liquid metal. “ Romantic.” She kneads Rat’s tense shoulders, and lays her chin against the top of her head. Rat never could beat around the bush.

“ I’m tryin’ my best!” Rat squishes Mako’s cheeks together, her metal leg catching the sheets as she drags herself up Mako’s body, hips already squirming. “ ‘s kinda hard to set the mood when I know you’d fuck me now!”

“ Never said that.” Mako’s hands, reaching down to squeeze Rat’s hips and feel her shiver, betray her cool tone. She’s already restraining herself, hungry but tender. She’d never forgive herself if she cracked Rat’s bones or left bruises just because she’s been so starved. She deserves to be savored. Treasured. 

Loved.

Rat starts to kiss up her neck, and Mako moans, feeling that wicked smile in the hollow of her shoulder. She feels up Rat’s flat ass, massaging those bony hips that never stop jerking against her, biting her lip at the sensation of a woman’s feverish flesh finally under her fingers again.

Rat wriggles out of the torn tank-top she throws on every cold night, and God, dear God, Mako can’t help but slide her hands up to Rat’s soft, bite-sized tits, pinching them just to hear her gasp. She wants to bury her face in them, feel Rat’s mechanical fingers tangle in her hair as she covers her chest in dark hickies. The smell of her, gunpowder and smoke and faint sweat, is enough to drive Mako wild with long suppressed desire, her head swimming as she tries to make Rat out in the dark.

Rat has no time for such romantic gestures. She flicks the table lamp on after a few times fumbling in the dark, panting, “ Lemme see you, Hoggy, c’mon, lemme see-,” and delights when Mako is suddenly bathed in warm light, maskless and flushed and letting out low, deep groans as Rat grinds against her crotch. Mako’s chest swells with pride when Rat licks her lips, stripping down to nothing and lifting Mako’s worn t-shirt in such a frenzy it’s as if she can’t help herself. She leans down to roll a nipple between her teeth, and Mako holds her there, huffing through her nose.

“ Rat,” she wheezes, “ Slower.”

She pulls Rat’s head out of the cleavage she’s created by pushing Mako’s breasts together and kisses her again, overtaking her thin lips to feel her melt and shiver, both hands grabbing at Mako’s loose hair. Mako squeezes her hips, her ass, her thighs, never hard enough to bruise, and listens to her muffled moans as Rat desperately slides her tongue into Mako’s mouth, tracing her sharp incisors. She vibrates with impatience, pawing at Mako’s covered crotch as she’s held there before she jerks her head out of Mako’s hands.

“ Fuck,” she breathes, still shaking as she presses her forehead to Mako’s, “ please, Hog. I can’t wait no more. I can’t, I can’t, please please please-”

Mako can’t deny her what she wants. What she deserves. She lifts her by the waist effortlessly and sets her spread thighs down on her face, not unlike she’s imagined thousands of times. Rat cries out for her tongue, which pushes into her slick, warm pussy without hesitation and pistons in and out of her until Rat shrieks so loud someone pounds their fist against the wall in the room next to theirs. She lets out high, begging whimpers when Mako sucks her clit between her thick, practiced lips, her thighs pillowing Mako’s head even as she cums, tongue lolling out as her voice chokes in her throat. 

Mako feels the familiar burn deep in her gut as Rat slides back down to kiss her cheeks, her wide nose, every scratch and mole and acne scar. She rubs her cheek to Mako’s like it doesn’t feel like sandpaper, so lovely in her nakedness that Mako can barely stand it. She yanks Mako’s pajama pants down low enough to stick the fingers of her flesh hand inside, still kissing her and murmuring slurred praise. She furiously rubs Mako’s clit, engorged with arousal as two long fingers slip inside her without any struggle at all. She moans for Rat as she’s fingerfucked by shaking hands, which pound the spot inside her that makes her roll her hips and kiss Rat’s pleased grin until she clamps around her and bites her long, tanned neck to keep from having the cranky heterosexual yuppie next door report them to the manager.

She lays there half exposed as she catches her breath, her arms wrapped around Rat’s waist as the lanky little minx snuggles against her, grinning deliriously. She’s so tender when she kisses Rat’s forehead that she feels her heart clench inside her chest, gently rubbing circles into Rat’s naked ass as her muscles relax. 

Rat in turn feels Mako’s biceps up with lazy joy, giggling in between pants.

“ Ain’t never thought that was gonna happen outside my head.”

Mako grunts in agreement, and Rat begins to babble again. She passes out to the sweet cacophony with the light still glowing beside them, and doesn’t wake up until noon the next day.

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

Things don’t change as much as Mako worries. Rat is no less fierce in battle, not regretful or ashamed of what they do every night they can manage. She holds Mako’s arm tighter now, calls her by her real name when they’re alone, screams at anyone who openly looks Mako up and down to sneer at her to keep their eyes off her girlfriend. She is just as rough and jagged as always, and Mako is so proud. So grateful to have this gleaming piece of desert glass stuck to her side, stealing her lingerie and black jewelry from the malls they loot. They murder the people who’ve earned their death, steal what they want, and have their wanted posters hung up in teenage girls’ bedrooms. 

They leave the States to hide in some obscure Sicilian village where no one could understand their accents even if they were speaking the right dialect. People give them a wide berth when they sit together in the bar there, holding hands as casually as Rat orders Mako the most expensive cocktail on the indecipherable menu by jabbing at the picture and demanding it in some of the most atrocious Italian ever spoken.

When it comes, pink and sweet as Mako used to enjoy all the time, Rat slaps her on the back with a wide grin.

“ Go on, mate! You deserve it!”

“ Yeah,” Mako tips her mask up and smiles, “ Guess I do.”

[titaniyaahdrabble]

To be Treasured

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary: You had purchased a treasure map from a stranger in town and Arthur agrees to help find it.

Word count:  1941

Notes: This is just fluff and will be part 1. I have a second part coming. I hope you enjoy.

The morning had proved itself to be rather quiet around the camp. Unsurprisingly, Reverend Swanson and Uncle were both still asleep and their snoring had effortlessly merged in with the distant sounds of birds chirping within the surrounding trees. You had gotten quite used to their sounds whilst you settled into the gang life.

You sat at one of the small camp tables that overlooked the small area where the horses grazed quietly. You found you quite liked that spot. It was away from the main hub of the camp and allowed you some space to think as space alone was scarce with how physically close everyone always was. But today, instead of allowing your mind to wander to distant fantasies fuelled by the many novels you read, you were preoccupied by an old map that was decorated with chaotic markings. Your eyebrows knitted, your face tensing into a soft frown as you tried to make sense of it. You were sure it was a treasure map - the strange man told you it was a treasure map after all - but you were unfamiliar with the surrounding lands. Hell, you were unfamiliar with the act of reading maps itself. You found yourself letting out a loud dejected sigh. You took a large spoonful of your porridge and propped it into your mouth, your eyes not leaving the tattered map and the scribbles; you were determined to make sense of it. As your eyes trailed along, following the questionably drawn arrows, you froze, your lips wrapped around the metal spoon. You had seen that waterfall before. You were sure of it.

“Good morning, Miss (Y/L/N),” the familiar voice pulled your attention from the map and to Arthur standing just before you. He held his cup against his lips to take a small mouthful of coffee as his curious gaze never left your face. You swallowed sharply, spluttering out an incoherent greeting as the porridge stuck to your throat and wrestled with your words. You ripped the spoon from your mouth, clenching it angrily as you fought the urge to cough. Your face flared red with your internal struggle, your eyes watering as you struggled to maintain a calm facade. His curious gaze had turned into that of concern. 

“Mornin’, Mr Morgan,” you managed to say before he could question you and forced a smile to ensure him that everything was indeed fine and that you definitely weren’t just choking on porridge. You placed a hand at your chest, clearing your throat, “This porridge really has a kick.” you lied as you returned your gaze to the map. You silently wished he would leave you to it, but you found he did the opposite; instead, he took a stride towards you.

“What you got there?” he placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, intrigued. 

“Just a silly old map,” you sighed and turned the map for him to get a better look. As you did, he shuffled and stood himself beside you. You looked up at him and was taken back by how close he was to you. If he simply leaned to his side, his abdomen would press against your shoulder. Your gaze lingered on his broad torso, where his blue button up shirt was unbuttoned enough to reveal his upper chest. You saw the small hairs that decorated his chest and it led you to wonder what he would look like shirtless. That fantasy-filled mind of yours would surely be the death of you as you realised it had set you on a dangerous path. One of which you secretly hoped would lead you into the strong arms of Arthur Morgan. As though he had heard your silent prayer, he cleared his throat. You looked at his face then, your own becoming hot. His sea-green eyes narrowed as he silently analysed the map, seemingly unphased by the close proximity to you.

“I recognise some of this,” he hummed as he trailed the arrows with a finger. Feeling greedy, you took the moment to admire his face and the gentle wrinkles that formed to frame his beautiful eyes as he frowned in contemplation. He glanced at you then and you immediately stiffened. You looked away from him and back to the map. Yes, the map was what you were so interested in.

“I was tryin’ to make sense of it but I don’t know the area well.” you said after a beat of silence.

“I’ve seen this waterfall,” he started quietly, “if it’s the one I’m thinkin’ of, that is. We passed it on the way here.”

“Really?” you replied too quickly, trying to conceal the excitement in your voice. He looked to you again, a playful smile playing at his lips as he straightened.

“You just wanna go explorin’ don’t you?” he laughed gently as he turned to throw the rest of his coffee to the ground before stuffing the metal cup into his satchel. You blushed gently at his comment. You soon smiled once again, however, your eyes meeting his. His own held a warmth within them that wasn’t so common. In fact, his expression was so warm that you couldn’t quite place what it was. 

“It’s better than being moaned at by Miss Grimshaw,” you admitted quietly. “There could be treasure waitin’ out there!” You beamed up at him. “Don’t say you don’t wanna go take a look, Mr. Morgan,” you then added. He stood before you, his right hand resting on his gunbelt as he pondered for a moment, weighing his options. You had an inkling that his curiosity would get the better of him.

“C’mon then,” he finally said, taking a step back towards his horse as he raised his arms gently as if to feign defeat. “Guess it wouldn’t hurt to take a look.” You immediately rose from your chair, grinning as excitement consumed you. 

“Really?” You couldn’t believe it. A strong part of you thought it was just a silly map that led to a silly treasure you wouldn’t get the chance to chase after. The smaller part of you also couldn’t believe that Arthur Morgan, of all the people in the gang, would be the one to chase after it with you. 

“Yes, really.” he chuckled as he attached saddlebags to his saddle, “We could be gone a couple days, so make sure you get everything.” his tone was a little more serious and you nodded. “I’ll wait by the horses for you.” Within a heartbeat you had hurried off to your tent, practically running across the camp. 

After watching you for a moment, he glanced downwards and pulled his hat down slightly to hide the smile that he could not shake from his face. In truth, he didn’t care about the map or the treasure. Seeing how you reacted from simply agreeing to escort you had made him feel a certain way that he had not felt in a long time which was reward enough. And, although the feeling was exhilarating, it also scared him. He had felt himself drawn to you and, to his frustration, that feeling had become more persistent with each passing day.

***

You held onto your hat as you threw your head backwards, letting out a loud bout of laughter that you could not contain. As the pair of you rode on through the forest, spurring your agitated horses on and away from what you had assumed was an adolescent blackbear, your laughter echoed into the cold air and startled the birds in the surrounding trees. Arthur was less enthused with the encounter and he tried to focus on guiding his horse through the thickening forest. Your laughter eventually shattered his solemn demeanour however and he cracked a smile, biting back a chuckle. He had found that your laughter was indeed infectious. You had held onto the horn of your saddle and simply giggled, trusting your horse to follow Arthur’s which it did instinctively. 

Once in a clearing and far enough away from the bear, Arthur reined in his horse and the pair of you came to a halt. Your horses panted gently, lowering their necks in a stretch, grateful that you had stopped to allow them to catch their  own breaths. Arthur, donning a stern look, turned atop his stallion to look at you. His lips parted as he prepared himself to scold you on how dangerous it can be to encounter a bear. How dangerous it is to gallop so recklessly through woodland. His words had fled him upon taking in the sight of you. 

You were grinning ear to ear, your chest rising and falling with each pant as you looked around as though you sought out he bear once again - or something equally as dangerous. Your hair was disheveled, the wind had combed through it with ease and left it a mess. You didn’t care and continued to grin, a soft giggle escaping from you as you suddenly looked back at him, the joy in your eyes sparking a response from deep within him. His heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of you. How beautiful you were. How happy you were. That distant feeling that he had felt earlier had started to ebb at him once again.

“Gettin’ chased by bears sure does make you giggle, don’t it?” he smiled and shook his head gently. His comment had earned a small chuckle from you. He rested a forearm on the horn of his saddle and loosely held onto his reins, his attention on you. 

“Now I understand why you spend so much time away from camp, Mr Morgan,” your grin had simmered down to a small smile but the sparkle in your eyes lingered.

“You think I spend it being chased by bears?” he laughed. 

“It’s nice to just be away from it all,” you corrected him, glancing away for a moment to contemplate, and almost regret, your words. You didn’t want him to mistake your meaning. You appreciated being welcomed into the gang. And you appreciated everything they had done for you. It’s nice to just be alone with you. His small hum of acknowledgement pulled your attention away from your thoughts and to him once again. 

“So,” he started, his tone still playful and the glint in his eyes almost matching your own. “I’ve learned today that you’re terrible with reading maps and bears don’t scare you.” a teasing smile was plastered to his lips as he regarded you, causing your cheeks to warm. “I just wonder what does scare you.” 

“Not a thing when I’m with you, Mr Morgan,” you replied almost too quickly but there were no playful undertones to your words;  you had meant what you said. You felt safe when you were beside him whether it be in camp or anywhere else. Arthur’s presence had always been a form of comfort to you since you had joined the gang. He was intimidating and would certainly throw his weight around when he wanted to, but when he shed himself of his angry facade, he was also kind and playful. Perhaps that was part of why you had developed a silly crush on him. He immediately glanced away from you, your words having a greater effect than you had initially realised. He dipped his head to allow his hat to shield himself from your gaze. His cheeks flared a shade of red as he comprehended your words. 

You smiled to yourself before collecting your reins and nudging your horse forward to stand beside his. “So, cowboy, where to next?” 

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

We Do This to Live Ch. 5

Chapter Five

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

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

Word Count: 3475 words

Warnings: Violence? Cussing? That sort of thing?

Masterlist to OCs - Masterlist to Other Works 

Previous Chapter

---

“Y’the only t’ief crazy ‘nough t’steal more than is asked o’ya.”

Geneva shrugged from her spot on Marie’s bed. She had come home only a handful of hours ago and while she knew she should rest, her powers were matching her emotions. A constant hum was in the back of her ears and her nerves felt particularly prickly. Until she found out what all of this new information meant, she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. “T’anks for takin’ a look.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Marie was impressed that in the last twenty-four hours, Geneva had not only caught Jean-Luc up on everything that had happened, but she’d duplicated the contents of the flash drive. It was sneaky…underhanded…and absolutely something Marie was proud of. “Don’t t’ank moi yet.” She clicked on a file. Lab results, videos, photos – everything one could ever hope to find – popped up over the multiple screens. Marie raised a brow, finding a particularly interesting piece of information. “This project was terminated ‘cause the mutant escaped.”

Geneva bit her lip, taking in the x-rays that showed a metal skeleton. A shiver ran down her spine. “What was his name?”

Marie glanced back at the redhead. She knew Geneva had always been hesitant to learn about more of her kind, but it seemed like she was shedding that fear as she got older. “Uh…” She looked back at the information, eyes flitting from each piece of the puzzle until she pulled up the patient’s name. There was a small photo with it. “James Logan Howlett.” Shock washed over her as she told Geneva, “He was military. Part o’that Cap’n America’s Howling Commandos.” A couple lines further down and she realized why this guy was so important. “His mutation was enhanced healin’. No way o’knowin’ ‘ow old the homme really is.”

The familiar creak of her bed let Marie know that Geneva had moved, no doubt standing behind her. The two stared at the sleeping face. A patient used for experimentation and yet…he looked so peaceful in that single image. Who knew what drugs were in his system?

“Ca va,” Geneva muttered, resting her arms on the back of Marie’s chair. “What else?”

Marie exited out of the Weapon X file. “T’ought y’said there were five files.” She glanced at Geneva. “There’s only four.”

“One o’them needed voice recognition t’even move the damn t’ing,” Geneva admitted, running a hand through her hair. “Was called the Sentinel Program.”

Marie’s nose scrunched. “Weird.” She clicked on the Avenger file. Scrolling through the files, her eyes widened. “Oh, mon dieu.”

“What?”

“Shush.” Marie kept scrolling, utterly amazed at the amount of information Geneva had gotten her hands on. “Gen, y’managed t’get the file on all the Avengers and what happened to ‘em. Not the bullshit the media gave us. The real story.”

“Sonovabitch…” Geneva’s eyes sparked a little brighter, excitement coursing through her at the idea of such important information. And she was the one who found it.

A knock came from the door, earning two sets of curious eyes as it opened. Rogue peeked her head inside, leaning against the doorframe. If she had opened it even half a second earlier, she would have caught sight of all the information the pair had been looking at.

Instead, she saw the inner workings of Essex Industries.

Closing her eyes, Rogue took a slow breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Marie…”

“Technically not a government organization.” The excuse tumbled from Marie’s lips effortlessly, as if well practiced and thought out.

They had a deal. Marie could hack away to her heart’s content – but she had to stay out of government business. It wasn’t that Rogue and Remy weren’t proud of her capabilities. They just didn’t want to bring unwanted attention their way.

Rogue forced her shoulders to relax as she looked at the girls. “Just be careful.”

Marie threw a thumb’s up her way as Rogue stepped inside. Geneva, ruffling the tween’s hair, looked at her mom. “Somethin’ up, Mama?”

“Your grandfather told Rem and I how your first mission went. Wanted to congratulate ya.”

Geneva grinned, her powers shimmering under her cheekbones. “Merci.”

Rogue chuckled as she sat on the foot of Marie’s bed. “He also told us how Marie helped.”

Marie tensed, looking over her shoulder. It wasn’t a secret that Geneva and Marie hadn’t been seeing eye to eye. If she didn’t know better, Rogue would comment about how much she loved to see them spending time together once again.

But Rogue was a very smart woman. She knew to keep her mouth shut. At least regarding their mended friendship.

“I wanted to talk to you two ‘bout that,” Rogue told them, bouncing her leg as Marie spun in her chair. “Your dad knows that you’re talented, Gen. We’re not doubtin’ that,” she assured her daughter. Just like she had been at Geneva’s age, the teenager was still self-conscious about her own talents. “But where ya might not think everythin’ through, Marie does.”

Marie shrugged. “What’s your point? ‘M a phone call away. She’ll be fine.”

“We don’t want it to have to be a phone call, Marie.” Rogue sighed, looking between the girls before settling her gaze back on Marie. “I know bein’ a part of the Guild isn’t what ya want. And I don’t blame ya at all. This won’t require you to do anythin’ you don’t already. But when Geneva goes on assignments, we’d like it if ya worked together. Someone needs to have Gen’s back and know what to look for.”

Silence fell in the room. Rogue knew it was a hard sell and understood why. With what had happened to Henri, Marie didn’t trust Jean-Luc or the Guilds. She hardly trusted her uncle, Remy.

But…

“I don’t want anyt’in’ t’happen t’Gen. If my ‘elp can benefit ‘er then…” Marie shrugged. “Ca va. ‘M in.”

Rogue looked at her daughter. Geneva simply shrugged. “Sounds like fun t’moi.”

--

That night, the two were in Geneva’s small house. Her projector illuminated a blank wall, showing them the videos she had stolen.

There was Dr. Strange’s arrest. The Eye of Agamotto had been glowing so brightly against his chest, refusing to leave its owner. They took his cloak though, no matter how feisty it had tried to be.

Charles Xavier’s students being arrested, despite their age. The school being shut down. Xavier being injected with so many needles, so much medicine, that he looked like a husk of the brilliant telepath he had been.

There was a clip of Natasha standing trial, being asked questions she refused to answer.

Another with Stark in the same predicament except…he spoke too much. His confidence screamed arrogance to those deciding his fate. They couldn’t trust him.

Both walked out in cuffs.

Geneva remembered learning about them in school. Photos of the infamous Black Widow and Ironman, teachings of how they were traitors to humans.

“We should show this to Pere ‘n’ Mama,” she whispered, absentmindedly drawing circles on her inner knee.

Marie looked back at her. Her cousin, the mutant, looked so terrified. Curled against the wall as if everything she had been taught was a lie. The media had told so many stories about the evils of mutant-kind. Of the Avengers. It was easy to lose track of what you were supposed to believe. Marie remembered a time where Geneva refused to believe heroes even existed. As far as she knew, the redhead still clung to that belief. To her, the only ones that were good were her own parents.

“We can’t, Genny,” Marie told her, smiling at the annoyance that flashed across her face. It was better than the fear. “Y’pere wouldn’t let y’go on more missions. Y’know that.” Pausing the clips, Marie turned to face her entirely. Geneva’s eyes, staring so intently at the pale images, finally looked at Marie. “’M gonna be helpin’ now. Y’know that too. This way, we can keep learnin’ the truth. If we get enough, we can stop SHIELD.” She took Geneva’s hand in her own, not bothered by the slight shock that tingled her palm. “We gonna do this toget’er. Y’not alone.”

Geneva blinked, her eyes finding their hands. “’M not a hero, petite. Not tryin’ t’be one eit’er.”

Marie nodded. “I know.” She gently squeezed her hand. “And y’don’t ‘ave t’be. Just gotta promise that we do this together. Just us.”

--

Bringing Marie in to help Geneva provided an almost-guarantee that their daughter was going to be safe. Where Geneva didn’t naturally over-think, Marie did. She knew the security guards’ schedules. She anticipated changes whether they occurred or not. While Geneva was smart in her abilities, there were cracks that Marie managed to fill in.

They worked well together. Naturally performing like a well-oiled machine.

Knowing and seeing that, Jean-Luc sent Geneva on more missions. Bigger and higher stakes that made stealing a few files look like nothing. Not that Jean-Luc believed so. A single promise to Marie had Geneva gathering as much information as she could, sidelining it and keeping it under wraps from the man in charge of it all.

He had no idea that any inkling of HYDRA existed.

Or that he kept sending her in the middle of it.

“This ‘as t’be the stupidest idea,” Geneva muttered, knowing Marie was listening on the comm.

“Jeez, tell moi ‘ow y’really feel.”

Geneva snorted as she stepped into the service elevator, janitorial clothes hanging loosely off her figure. Her hair, tucked behind her ears and hidden well under the company hat, was kept out of sight and mind. It was a fair enough disguise. People were leaving to go home at about this hour. It meant less disturbances. On paper? It totally made sense.

In person? Dressing as a janitor to slip in and out of Pym Technologies? It was slightly more terrifying. A single ding came from above and she stepped out. Just ahead, two workers were hanging a new sign.

Trask Industries.

Nodding to the boys, she kept walking until she came across the janitorial closet. The ID card deftly slipped between her fingers as she asked, subtle accent perfectly intact, “Didn’t think to tell me Trask bought this place?”

Silence.

Geneva opened the door as she asked, “Marie?”

“I didn’t know.”

She hesitated, barely able to gather any sense before she was tugging that blasted janitorial cart out of the closet and down the hall. Her nerves were going haywire as she trudged along. This hadn’t been a part of the plan. Breaking into Pym’s was one thing, but Trask? Alexander Pierce’s best friend?

“Breathe, Genny. It’s gonna be okay.”

Geneva snorted. “Easy for you to say.” She visibly relaxed when that sign was finally out of sight. From here, she could at least pretend it didn’t exist. She could act as if she wasn’t walking into a warzone entirely unprepared.

The doors opened with a hiss. She slipped inside, the doors closing behind her. Metal walls surrounded her, long labs stretching here and there. A quick glance to the last specialist was enough for Geneva to focus on taking out the trash.

“T’ink this is the most I’ve seen y’clean after someone else.”

Geneva wanted to snap at that, but she knew better. Each table had a small trash can next to it and by the time she had gotten to the fourth, the dweeby scientist was finally leaving. She set the bin down. As she looked up, a loose strand of hair fell free. She was alone.

Well, sort of.

“What’s the passcode,” she asked as she walked to the back of the room. There was a second door made of heavy metal. A keypad too. On the other side, something that might help them with sneaking just a little bit more. Geneva glanced through the window. No doubt it was thick glass. Probably bullet-proof.

“135081965.”

The keypad beeped with every input, followed by a much longer one as the door unlocked itself. “Any tricks I should know ‘bout?”

“Shouldn’t be, non. The glass’ll be thick, but y’powers should be able to handle that.”

Geneva chuckled as she took the hat off, shoving it in one of her many pockets. “Should bein’ th’key word, right,” she muttered, almost closing the door before stepping further inside.

The room was massive, bigger than the one before. It made no sense to her. The glass bubble, thick glass secured by metal, was the only thing in the room. And its contents were the smallest thing she’d ever seen.

“There’s no way that’s an actual suit.” Geneva circled the glass.

“It’s called the Yellow Jacket.”

Geneva looked up, bright eyes sparking a little brighter. But... Who the hell? There was no one in the room. “Marie? T’ought y’said no tricks.”

“I got nothin’.”

“Oh! Sorry. Uh…give me a second.”

Geneva’s jaw ticked, fingers crackling with electricity. A static filled the air and prickled her skin before a figure appeared in front of her. A red suit, silver helmet and red lenses, and…was he just small?

“I’m Ant-man.”

“What’s happenin’, Genny?”

Geneva didn’t say anything to Marie. This was the first time she had ever really crossed paths with someone that wasn’t…normal. “I – I’m Geneva.”

“Gen, what’s goin’ on?”

He tilted his head. “That’s your alter-ego name?”

Geneva’s brow furrowed. She shook her head. “Not exactly.”

“Oh!” He pressed a button and Geneva curled her fist. She couldn’t help it. It was simply instinct. But seeing the helmet disappear, she was met with a…surprisingly kind face. Well, there was no way the guy was a thief or assassin. “I’m Scott.”

Definitely not an assassin.

“Geneva, be careful. You don’t – “

“Guessing we’re after the same thing?” He pointed to the suit between them. Something so small and so protected. Just how powerful was the thing?

Geneva took the comm out of her ear. She could hardly think with that thing in her ear. Shoving it in her pocket, she dropped the fake accent and told Scott, “’Fraid y’not the one that’s goin’ t’walk away with it.”

Scott huffed. “Look, we’re both thieves, right?”

She shrugged. “Eh. Maybe not on the same level.”

And with that – the lights flickered off.

Geneva’s eyes lit up, glowing in the new darkness. She recognized the whizz that came from Scott’s helmet, but paid him little attention. He wasn’t where her focus was needed. Fingers brushing against the glass, she watched it tremble.

But before it could shatter – something small and heavy hit her stomach.

Geneva’s back slammed into the wall. Fluorescents shattered above as Scott reappeared. Now – between her and her prize.

A hand pressed to her abdomen, she asked, “Were y’just petite?”

“Did you do that?” Scott’s hand pointed to the ceiling.

It seemed to dawn on them at the same time. Maybe this wasn’t going to be an easy assignment for either of them.

Geneva dropped low. Her staff extended. Swiping at his legs, she smirked when he landed on his ass.

Scott groaned. “You’re not a normal janitor, are you?”

“What clued y’in?” Her eyes sparked a little brighter and her staff lit up, crackling with her powers.

She swung for his head. He rolled, shrinking down to an impossibly small size. Geneva hopped to her feet. “Where the fuck…?” She looked around, desperate to catch sight of any sort of movement.

Something.

Anything.

She felt the tug at her wrist. A twist and jerk forced her hand behind her back. Pinned between her shoulders. Geneva hissed. She stumbled towards the wall, her hand pressing against the metal before her jaw could.

“Sonova…” She growled. Electricity shimmered over her hair, flying towards the lights. They burned ever so bright.

“Ah, fuck!”

There he was.

Her power surged through her pinned arm and –

ZzZzAP

Scott flew through the air. She spun, watching a small dent appear in the metal protecting the yellowjacket’s case. He grew in size, twitching here and there. The sparks of electricity still dancing on his suit zapped through the air, seeping once more into her skin.

Her veins and scars lit up as she threw a punch. There was too much going wrong with this assignment. She needed to wrap it up. Marie’s warning now long forgotten, Geneva aimed for his head. He dropped, vanishing once more as her fist, and her powers, shattered the metal and glass.

An alarm rang.

Scott reappeared behind her as the door swung shut. Locked.

With no way out.

“Ya sonova – “ Geneva turned towards him, eyes wide and panicked as Scott’s helmet vanished.

“I didn’t do it! You did!”

“Y’coulda let moi hit ya!”

Scott huffed, crossing his arms as if waiting for her to realize how ridiculous that sounded.

“I know ‘ow it sounds and ‘m not takin’ it back.” She turned away from him. Pressing a hand to the door, she focused on her abilities.

That was when the room’s light went red.

“Whoa.”

Geneva looked over her shoulder. Scott’s attention was still focused on her, staring at her appearance. “What?”

“Well, when the lights went red, it…” He pointed to her skin.

Geneva followed his gaze. Her skin, once glowing brilliantly, looked as normal as it possibly could. Her brow furrowed. The familiar buzz in her ears…the tingle to her skin…Those things she had grown so used to…

It was all gone.

She stumbled then, exhaustion tugging at the corners of her eyes. Scott stepped forward, offering her a hand. “Hey, careful.” He helped her lean against the wall, oblivious to the gas that was appearing through skinny vents. “Are you okay?”

Geneva blinked slowly, looking around. Her comm link. She needed – Her eyes drifted to the gas. Squeezing his hand, she nodded towards it. Their fight forgotten, survival seemed far more important. “’M powers make moi so…”

“It’s okay. I understand. You’re a little battery, aren’t you?” It was a lighthearted joke, something to make her laugh and hopefully wake her up a bit. He glanced at the gas, noticing how it started to fill the room. His helmet appeared, a barrier for him though he couldn’t do anything for her.

“Y’should…” She coughed, resting her head against the wall. “Go. S’meone is bound t’show up and there’s…” Another cough, this time followed by a yawn. “No point in us both getting’ caught.”

“You were ready to kick my ass a minute ago.”

Geneva shrugged, offering a weak smile. She saw his eyes through those weird red lenses. He was concerned and she appreciated it. “That was a minute ago. Sil vous plait, go.”

Another minute passed. A part of Scott didn’t want to leave her. It seemed inhumane. If this was still Hank’s building, he might consider it, but the whole reason he was here was because of Trask. The man was changing everything. He had a plan. He had power. And he had had enough of both to push Hank out of his own company.

But if he stayed…what would happen to Cassie?

“I’m sorry. I – “

She shook her head, pushing his hand away. It was then he noticed how green her eyes were. Like pretty jewels. “Don’t. Jus’ go.”

Scott took a step back, shrinking just in time for the door to open. He stumbled back, feet brushing against the vent just as the door opened. Geneva seemed to be drifting between consciousness and sleep, eyes barely able to stay open. With one last apology, Scott stepped through the vent, making his escape.

Geneva allowed herself to smile, relieved that at least both of them wouldn’t be caught. Competition was one thing, but prison? No, she wouldn’t wish that on anyone. She looked up, nodding slightly as masked guards came in. And right behind them, someone much smaller stepped inside.

Trask.

She grinned. “Y’lot shorter than I ‘magined.”

“And you,” he told her, voice muffled by his own mask. “Were almost smarter than I anticipated.”

--

Marie sat in her chair, curled up to look as small as possible. The shouting down the hall did nothing to ease the tears slipping down her cheeks. Sniffling, she wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked to the News.

“After apprehending a mutant thief, Boliver Trask has looked to SHIELD in hopes of fast-tracking his newest creation. With long-time friend Alexander Pierce holding office as Secretary of SHIELD, it appears this mutant’s actions were all that was needed to fast track what they are now calling the Sentinel Program. SHIELD officials have plans to introduce these creations to our larger cities first and - ”

She turned the screen off. Head hitting the chair behind her, Marie listened to Remy and Rogue screaming at each other. Shouting blame. Shouting worries.

Another sniffle as Marie stared at the ceiling.

What was going to happen to them now?

 --

Permanent Tags:

@butcherofblackwater​

[br4tcult]

﹒☼﹒

UPON RETURN ⎟  T. SHELBY

﹒♱﹒

✒︎requested: no i just loved the gif ✒︎warnings: swearing & narcotics + mentions of blood, bruises & violence && lots of tension ✒︎word count: 5000+ ✒︎season set: 1

[originally posted on my wattpad, bc idk how to post via tumblr but we tryin’. feedback majorly appreciated x]

﹒♱﹒

You took a deep breath as you lifted your bruised and dried bloody knuckle to the oh so familiar door. A thousand thoughts racing through your mind as you tapped your foot, both with impatience and disconcertment of what consequences would follow. 

You had moved to Small Heath at the age of seven, give or take, your father had got a job promotion which meant moving up country. When you first arrived you were known as 'The Cockneys At The Bottom Of Watery Lane'. You weren't even from London. You just happened to live near the capital. Not that anyone cared.

When you started school it was the same, only worse. All the girls would pick on you for speaking funny and the boys would pick on you for being too 'brash'. It wasn't your fault your parents had raised you to not take any shit. With your fathers line of work, he wasn't around an awful lot which mean you and your mother had to do a lot of things yourself. Which you, of course, didn't mind but it did mean that a lot of people would be confused and usually straight up rude.

They'd say things along the lines of, 'Whys a women doing this' and, 'Are women even capable of doing that', and so on, when you and your mother were doing the simplest of things.

Anyway, when you joined the school in Small Heath you found that being a girl with her head held high and strong arms wasn't easy.

One day you were minding your own business under the oak tree in the corner of the playground, reading Oliver Twist, if you remember correctly. When out of nowhere a group of kids made their way over to you; three girls and about five boys, all looking irritated.

"Wot ya doing, girl?", a boy with a scarf on asked you.

You rolled your eyes, turning to look at him as you put your bookmark in your book, "I have a name, you know?".

The boy scowled, "I don't care".

'What do you want?', you asked again, looking at the rest of them, "I'm busy".

A girl took a step forward, her hands behind her back as her plaits fell in front of her shoulders, "Just wanted to know why you're such a freak?".

You laughed, "I'm not a freak", you stood up.

"Yeah you are", a little boy from the back spoke up, "Ya read all the time n wear trousers". Another girl nodded, "Yeah girls don't wear trousers, they're for boys, ya freak".

"Girls can wear trousers too, you know?", you crossed your arms, "They're actually really comfortable".

The first boy that spoke to you shook his head, "I bet you wear trousers coz your mum n dad can't afford dresses, ay?", he said as he turned to look at his friends.

You didn't think twice before you lunged forward and brought the boy to the ground, "Fuck did you just say?", you spat as his friends gasped. When the boy didn't answer you shook him by his collar a little, "Didn't hear you".

"I said", he spoke, "You're poor and a freak of a girl", he sniggered.

You narrowed your eyes and lifted your fist before hitting him in the nose. He yelled and pushed you, knocking you slightly but you didn't fall over.

The kids started shouting "Fight... Fight... Fight...", causing a crowd of other kids to come running.

Soon enough you had hit him about four times before you heard an older voice, "Wots going on 'ere then?". You turned around to see three boys in flat caps, the voice belonging to the tallest.

"Wot's it look like?", you said, "I'm beating him u-", you were cut off as the boy beneath you grabbed one of your braids, yanking you down to the floor with him.

You quickly kicked him in the stomach before the three boys grabbed you and held you back, the other boy groaning in pain.

Walking you away as you shouted the boys laughed.

"Wot's your name then?", the smallest one asked as they sat you on a bench. You kept your chin up as you studied them, "Y/N", you narrowed your eyes, " 'ho uh you's then?".

The other two boys looked at each-other and chuckled before turning back to you, "That", they motioned to the smallest boy, "Is John". You nodded. "I'm Arthur", the tallest said before turning to the boy in the middle, "And this is-".

"I'm Tommy", he said as he held his hand out for you to shake, "These are my brothers".

You shook his hand and sat up straighter, "So Wot?", you began, "Yous the topdogs 'ere or sumin?", you asked.

They laughed as John spoke, "Yeah! We're the best here". Tommy gently shoved his brother, "Shut up, John", he said and looked back to you, "We're not yet, but no one messes with us if that's what you mean".

You nodded again, "So can I join your little gang?".

Arthur laughed, "Well you're not a Shel-", his brother Tommy cut him off.

"That's what I wanted to speak to you about actually, Y/N".

You smiled, "So that's a yes?".

John looked over to his older brothers, "Oh please, she's funny!".

Arthur looked back to you, "Where'd you live?", he asked you.

"Wa'ery Lane", you told him, "'bout a month now".

"Oh you're that girl", he said, "She's the cockney down the bottom of the Lane", he nudged Tommy.

"Alright we'll come and see you after school and you can join us", Tommy smiled.

You jumped to your feet and stood on your tippy-toes to be at the same height as Tommy, "Nah", you simply said as you watched his eyebrows furrow, "I'll meet yous, by the bridge at 'alf three", alright?".

Tommy sighed, "Deal". The two of you spat on your hand and shook on it.

The rest was history. You and the three brother became best friends.  Wherever you went, they followed and whoever they met up with, so did you.

You and John were the same age, you two were practically the same, it was hilarious. As you grew up you and John would always be playing pranks on the others and messing around with baby Micheal. No one left the two of you alone because they knew something would end up alight.

As for Arthur and Tommy, you all got on well. Whenever anyone messes with you, a seldom occurrence, they wouldn't mind paying them a quick visit. You helped Arthur with his maths and various other things as often as you could, although you didn't tell everyone about that, he wasn't proud.

As for Tommy, you two always loved to talk about the bigger picture and such. Often you two would walk down to the Canal or Charlie's Yard and spend a good few hours just talking about life and theories and your life aspirations.

By the time you and John were 18 your life had changed a lot, along with his. Of course you were still close friends but what with work and relationships you didn't see him as much as you would've liked. The same with Arthur, he always seemed to be busy, doing what you weren't sure exactly but when you did see him you'd always stop for a chat.

You saw Tommy most, he always made a point of stopping into the Newsagents you worked at, just to say good morning. You appreciated the gesture but couldn't help but feel as if you were wasting his time, you were always so busy trying to set up for the day you never got a minute to sit and chat with him.

As you had grown older, yours and Tommy's relationship had shifted slightly. Not that either of you dared to acknowledge, but you knew. You were both guilty of finding excuses to be around each-other and touch one another. Purposely bickering to clear a room of Shelby's out so that you were alone. Stealing glances whilst the other weren't paying attention. Just silly little things that you would try and pass off as platonic intimacy as you laid in bed at night overthinking every single word you said to the man that day... and every other day you'd ever known him.

Of course you wondered if he felt the same. It felt like he did but you could just be imagining that. And you weren't prepared to ruin what you had just because of some silly crush.

However come the end of 1913 your father was now too old to do the job he had moved here to do. And your mother missed her home town and family and as one thing led to another and they decided it was time to move back.

Of course you were devastated, you loved your job even though it was more than trouble then it was worth and you loved your friends. But you were also excited to go back, of course you had been back, Christmas and Easter and what not. But you missed living there, the bustle, the accents, the opportunities and fast changing trends.

So that's what happened, you spent your last few weeks making the most of it with the Shelby's and your job before the day you left came around. You promised you'd visit, and of course you would. You promised to write, and of course you went out and brought new writing pens and paper.

By the time you were settled back into your hometown war had broken out and it seemed almost every man you knew here was off to war. The brothers back in Birmingham as well. You couldn't bare to think about the consequences of that. You still kept in touch with all three of them though.

Until you didn't.

Around a month after the boys were back from the war the letters stopped coming. You weren't sure why or how but they did. So you stopped writing. Your pride was to big to just simply write to Aunt Pol and ask if everyone was ok incase they were and they just didn't like you.

So how did you get to knocking on their betting shop front doors at 11 o'clock at night?

The door opened after you had began knocking constantly after a minute of waiting.

"The fock do ya wan-", a deep voice began before releasing who they were speaking to.

You looked up, almost shocked, "Fuckin' 'ell, Arthur, you ain't 'alf grown since a last saw ya", you let out a strained chuckle as you looked at the man who seemed to be stunned.

"You gunna let me in or should I just bleed out over your shop front?", you joked dryly, "Don't think it'd be good for business".

"Uh yeah", he said as he shook his head, "No come in, yeah, just watch your step, it's busy". You furrowed your eyebrows as you stepped past him, it was 11 at night why would it be busy?

It was though. The entire room was full of people racing back and forward, counting money, writing numbers, sneaking an extra line now that Arthur had his back turned.

"There's a race tomorrow", Arthur told you as he placed a hand around your shoulder, "Now come on, let's get you fixed up, and then you can tell me what the fock happened to ya hands".

You nodded and followed him through the busy shop, keeping your head. Avoiding catching anyone's eye. Someone's eye.

"Polly!", Arthur shouted as he closed the green doors behind you, "Ay! Polly! Ada! Get down 'ere!".

"Sorry, am I causing you trouble, I didn't mean to end up here I just sort of- did?", you mumbled to Arthur, nervously.

"Wot you on about? You're always welcome here Y/N, you know that", he smiled before shouting for Polly once more. "And besides, this is a great time coz Tommy needs a fucking cheering up", he said as he pulled out a chair at the table for you to sit at.

You looked down at the table as you carefully held your hands above it, trying not to ruin it, "Is that so", you began, "dunno if I can help with that mate".

Arthur reached forwards and tilted your chin up to face him, "I hope for both our sakes that ain't true, you're the only hope left, Y/N", he said honestly.

"Wot do'ya mean?", you asked quietly.

Before he could reply you heard two squeals from behind Arthur. Looking up you saw Polly and Ada, and a little boy following behind.

"Y/N!", Polly said as she lifted her hands in the air, "You're here! You're well", she smiled as she walked over to you, wrapping her arms around your side.

"Oh my god", Ada said as she walked over to the other side of you.

"Wot the fuck happened to ya-" Polly asked as she grabbed an old tea towel and placed it carefully under your hands.

"To make a long story short", you forced a smile, "I thought it would be a good idea to find the man that burgled my parents", you cut yourself off with a 'fuck' as Ada began tending to your bruises, "And let's just say.. it wasn't".

Arthur sat up straight, "Can't be that bad", he laughed, "What'd'ya kill him or something", he joked, making light of the situation.

You licked your bottom lip, not saying anything for a moment before looking up from your hands to Arthur's face with a gulp.

"Wait you-", he began.

"You fucking killed someone!", Ada raised her voice in shock.

"Who's killed who then?", A chirpy voice asked as they walked in the room. You knew that voice from a mile off.

"John?", you called out, "John is that you, come 'ere", you said as you tried your best to turn towards the direction of the voice but Ada and Polly were blocking your view.

"Oh fuck off", John said as he pulled out a chair next to Arthur and next to you, "You didn't come and see me first! I'm offended" he joked, "When did you get back?", he beamed as he leant onto the table, hands clasped, "How are you? Any crazy stories to tell me coz I've got loads and- The fock happened to your hand?", John besieged you with questions.  

You laughed, "Yeah, missed you too, mate", you said simply as you looked back down at your hands which were stinging now as Polly cleaned them with neat alcohol.

"So do you wanna go down the Garrison after this then?", John simply asked you, ignoring the fact you were being patched up and hadn't seen him since 1913. It was as if you hadn't even spend half an hour apart let alone five or so years.

You looked up with a beaming smile across your red lips, "Fuck kind of a question is that .. of course I do, John".

Arthur cheered as he got up and reached up on top of the kitchen cabinet and grabbed a bottle of whisky. Finding a few small glasses he poured out some drinks, passing them around. John holding yours as both your hands were currently being worked on.

"To this one", Arthur said as he ruffled your hair slightly, just like he had to when you were kids (which you hated, but now it seemed comforting), before everyone cheered slightly and downed their drink.

"Who we toasting to this time then, ay?", a quite deep voice spoke from across the room. Arthur turned around in shock, spilling the bottle of whiskey over that he had brought over and left on the table. "Oh fuck sake Tommy, look what you made me do!", he shouted.

"You fucking idiot", Polly complained as she looked up, "I brought that whiskey to drink, not wash the floor with!".

John burst out laughing as he watched Arthur scuttle around trying to find something to soak it up with. As Ada left your side to help her brother, you looked up back to where the voice had come from.

Thomas.

You gulped softly, running your eyes over the man across the room. He seemed colder, more mature but rather in a sense that he had lost any grip on hope or joy. A contrast to how John seemed. As you looked back up to his face you blushed as you realised he was already staring back at you.

He walked over as he took his cap off, shoving it into his pocket and pulling out a cigarette.

He sat down at the table, stealing Arthur's seat, who was still trying to apologise to Polly for spilling her drink.

"Bet you're glad to be back", Tommy joked dryly as he placed his cigarette in his mouth and nodded in your direction as he pulled out out a light.

You smiled, "Yeah, I definitely missed this", you said sincerely, looking over at everyone, "Whatever 'this' is", you laughed, looking back over at Tommy.

Everyone pretended to still be busy as they all secretly listened in on the exchange between the two of you - amazed that Tommy had even cracked a smile.

"Right, well that should be fine now", Polly tapped your shoulder, "Just don't get into any fights for about a week, at least", she smiled before walking off, taking Ada and Arthur with her. Leaving John who was playing with his thumbs.

"So the Garrison yeah?", you looked over at your best mate, "tonight?".

"Yeah", he smiled, "I'll buy the first round".

You tilted your head with narrowed eyes, "Don't you practically own the pub", you asked as the smell of Tommy's cigarette filled your nose, in a weird sense it was comforting to you.

John nodded with a shrug, "So you won't be buying it then, will you?", you laughed, "And I will".

"Yeah something like that", he laugh as he stood up, "That's what you get for leavin' us".

"Yeah, coz it's not like you went away to war or anything anyway", you shouted after him as he walked off, acting offended. You let out a quiet snort as you watched.

"Why didn't ya visit?", Tommy spoke after a moment, "Y'know, when we got back".

"Yous stopped writing", you said plainly, "So I thought yuh didn't wanna see me", you shrugged as you looked down at your bruised hands.

"We didn't stop.. you stopped", Tommy leant back in his chair.

"Um, No", you furrowed your eyebrows, "I didn't stop writing first, why would I've done that", you argued.

Tommy shook his head slightly, blowing smoke out as he rubbed his temples, "I know what happened". You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain. "Someone stopped delivering our letters and stealing yours when they got here", he leant forward, looking down at your hands, clenching his jaw, "Wot happened?".

"But- But why would someone do that?", you asked, ignoring his question.

"Dunno", he said and thought for a moment, "I'll ask Finn, he used to collect our post and such".

"Finn?", you raised your eyebrows, "Oh my god, is Finn the boy that- oh my god he's so grown up now!", you gasped.

Tommy smiled, "Shot up when we all went away, didn't he?". You nodded, shifting in your seat, turning towards Tommy slightly as you leant back.

"What happened?", Tommy asked again, in reference to your hands. You watched as he brushed away any dirt on the table, not wanting anything to get lodged in your cuts even if they were now covered and treated. You studied his hands now, all the small marks left from old cuts and gashes.

"Um", you didn't know where to start, "Just after the war ended, y'know, everyone settling back in best they could, everyone still disorientated", you absentmindedly began tapping your foot under the table as you continued. Tommy noticed but kept quite. "Well this man, I knew him actually — right cock'ead, worked at the butchers and spied on all the school girls when they walked 'ome", you grimaced, "So yeah anyway, it was a Wednesday evening, I'd popped round to me parents 'ouse, just two roads away from mine, and um", you licked your bottom lip, lightly biting the skin on the inside.

"When I got- when I got there they were both knocked out cold, only just fuckin' breathin'", you shook your head as you remembered, your tapping growing louder, "That's when I realised someone was in thee 'ouse". Tommy held his chin high as he tried to contain his displeasure, not only had this mysterious man caused you pain but also your parents - who he knew well and respected.

"So I goes up stairs and the pig is filing though my mothers jewellery box ain't he?", you laughed dryly to yourself, "Only to realise everything is sentimental and barely worth a fuckin' thing", you cursed.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, unsure of what to say but he wanted to comfort you, even if he was a little late. He didn't get the chance as you began speaking again, the anger in your voice more present.

"I mean what the fuck did he think was gonna be there? Fucking Faberge Eggs? We're livin' on the outskirts of London for fucks sake", you wanted to clench your fists but it would ruin everything Polly had just achieved, instead you decided to throw your head back and angrily  shout 'fuck'.

Tommy stifled a laugh as he watched you so desperately want to lash out, "So what did you do?".

You lifted your head back up slowly and looked over at Tommy, dead in the eyes, "I told him to fuck off and never come back", you simply said, adding, "With a butchers knife in my hand, and a pistol in the other".

Tommy took a long drag of his cigarette as he looked at you, "And people say I'm threatening", he joked.

Shrugging with a small smirk you leant forward, crossing your legs in hopes of stopping yourself from tapping them. "Anyway, he left with his hands up and then I never saw him again".

Tommy butted his cigarette in the ashtray and folded his arms, ready to hear the gruesome end to your story.

"That was until I obviously tracked him down, I wasn't going to let him get away with hurting my parents".

"Did it take long?".

"No", you looked down at your hands once more, "I found him in a day or two, moved up to Coventry .. I went up to visit him once a month— secretly of course, just to make sure he was still there and what no", you raised your eyebrows before you spoke, "And then today I decided he was finally comfortable, my threats of finding him finally at the back of his mind".

Tommy looked you over as you sat, one leg still bouncing as your thumbs rolled over one another, your bottom lip a piece of meat to your top teeth as little bits of your lipstick began to wear off.

"I'll spare you the gore but let's just say he got more then I intended to give him and now he's resting in his own fire pit", you smiled sinisterly as you looked up to Tommy. "I feel bad of course, I guess", your smile faded, "But he deserved it, and it wasn't as if he had any family that cared about him".

Tommy took a short breath, straightening his back and smoothing his waistcoat down before looking at you with a concerned look.

"Wot?", you asked as you saw the look in his eye, "Look, if you're going to ask any questions about my well being- don't .. I'm clearly fine, aren't I?".

"What about the stuff that's not obvious", Tommy said lowly, "Why are you really here? Hmm?", he leant forward, adjusting your bloodied shirt cuffs, "I'm sure you could find many people to patch you up, and better then Pol too", he joked.

"Ay don't discredit Pol, she did a great job", you changed the subject. "And anyway", you carefully stood up, standing behind your hair as you pushed it under the table with your hip, "It's easy to hide in plain sight here".

Tommy watched you as you walked over to their sink, turning on the tap and bending to drink the water. The prospect of filling and holding a cup in your bandages wasn't looking fun right now. Tommy held back a giggle as he raised a brow at your behaviour, "How so?".

You turned around, leaning on the kitchen surface, "Well not only do I just have to put some coal on me and call it day, my best mate is the leader of arguably one of the most powerful organised gangs in the country, no one would dare give me up", you smirked.

"You reckon John's in charge?", Tommy stood up, leaving his chair untucked as he walked over to you, placing his hands either side of your waist, "Is is that what he's told you".

You gulped with a playful expression still on your face, "Well Arthur's too hot-headed and you're too collected, Johns a mix of both", you half lied, just to test Tommy's patience. He narrowed his eyes with a sly smirk upon his lip.

"You don't think that", he said simply.  

"Says who?".

"You".

"Well I literally just said the opposite so I don't exactly understan-".

Tommy cut you off as he leant closer, his hands subconsciously moving closer to your body as they glided across the surface edge, "Your body language", he said as if it was obvious, "Your heart".

You let out a loud dry laugh, trying to outwit him as you held your chin high, feigning confidence, "What do they say then? Because my brain is saying that you're embarrassed by my opinions".

"Well for starters you've ended up in my old house, pinned to a surface by me", Tommy took a shallow breath as he stood up straight, now his chest was practically touching yours, "Not John", he looked down into your eyes, holding your gaze, "Not Arthur, and not Jack from down the lane who used to flirt with you every fockin' chance he got".

You bit your lip, praying that no one would interrupt this, wanting to see how far it could go.

Of course you had thought about this before. You and Tommy. The way you both bounced off of eachother so well, the way you never felt awkward around eachother, the way you just understood eachother. Tommy and You. Of course you had thought about his lips on yours before, his hands on your waist- around your neck. The two of you cuddled up after a long day of running the betting shop. It had occupied the small space at the back of your mind since you were fourteen. You ignored it best you could though.

But over time that small space had become bigger, migrating to the front of your brain. And after all of your hard work getting it to shut up whilst you were back home, you had to come back to Birmingham and run into him. He had to ruin it and make you fall for his rubbish all over again.

Or maybe you came to Birmingham for that exact reason. Shit. He was right.

"No, you're in front of me", He said as you looked back into his eyes, "And I think we both know why".

"Do we?".

Tommy narrowed his eyes a playful smirk grew upon his lips, he chuckled to himself quietly, just above a whisper, "You know what your problem is?", he asked.

You shook your head a little, not trusting yourself to speak, afraid you would give in to him first.

"You're too stubborn, your ego is the size of a circus".

You furrow you're eyebrows with a gasp, "Am not!", you childishly defended yourself, "What makes me stubborn then, huh?".

"The fact you won't admit you've come here to see me".

"Well in actual fact, if I had come to see anyone, it would be John", you raised an eyebrow, "But as I said, I just ended up here and I'm glad I did because Polly is the only other person besides from my mum that I'd trust to patch me up".

Tommy returned back to his infamous imperturbable expression as he looked at you, "Why aren't you with John Boy now then? Ay?", he pressed, "Why aren't you terrorising Harry with him down at the Garrison?".

You shrugged, "Maybe", you smirked, "Maybe because you've trapped me in this godforsaken little kitchen because you're to scared to admit that you fancy me", you flushed a little as you finished your sentence, your heart racing as you wondered if this was the end of you and Tommy. Whatever you and Tommy was.

Tommy clenched his jaw, his eyes darting from your eyes, to your chest, to your hands, to your lips. "Well go on then", he stepped back, leaving you just enough space to walk away, "Go off and play with John then".

You frowned, eyes narrowed as you wondered if he was being serious, it was hard to tell with him.

You pushed yourself off of the counter, closing the gap between you both again as you stood as tall as you could. Your nose practically touching his chin as you looked up to him. "Fine", you said coldly, "I'll see you later then, after I'm done catching up with John", you quickly turned and headed for the front door before you could fall victim to Tommy's eyes again.

"And my Gin", you shouted before the door slammed shut behind you.

Damn both of your conceit.

﹒♱﹒

✒︎author note: part two? + plus plz comment any spelling mistakes etc ✒︎requests: open 09/2019

~ published: 29.10.2019 ~

﹒☼﹒

[legolaslovely]

A Fair Rose Part 1

A/N: Hello! I have been so excited to post this one for you guys. There is a part 2 already written that I will post in a few days. This story is based on this imagine from @imaginexhobbit and includes the song I’d Pluck a Fair Rose from the show Poldark because I’m obsessed. I really hope you guys enjoy.

Pairing: Kili x Reader

Word Count: 1,680

Warnings: None but FLUFF 

Summary: You, a musician performing in Erebor for the first time, quite literally run into Prince Kili. He doesn’t seem too angry about it though.

Part 2

You winced as the wheel of the dolly ran over your toes again. “Mahal. Sure, Buck, leave me all alone to drag this harp into the mountain. That’s a great idea. I have no idea where I’m actually going, but it should work out fine. What could go wrong?”

You mumbled and growled on as you walked backwards with your full sized harp through the winding corridors of the mountain of Erebor. “Where is this grand hall anyway?”

You turned a corner and ran into something hard. You set the dolly still and whipped around to see a strong shouldered dwarf. If his hair didn’t give his identity away, his royal clothes surely did. You fell into a curtsey, eyes to the ground. “Prince Kili. I-I am so sorry. Really, my apologies. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” Tears started to gather behind your eyes.

“How could you when you’re carrying this harp all alone? Let me help you. The grand hall is this way.”

“Oh, no, Prince Kili. I will be fine by myself. I will be sure to watch my step in the future.” You set your trembling fingers on the golden arch.

“I’m going that way myself. This is the least I can do to repay you for the beautiful music you will grant us tonight.” He pushed the dolly down the corridor with ease. You watched with wide eyes. Not only was the prince of Erebor doing your work for you after you plowed into him, he was also acting like 100 pounds of gold and string weighed nothing. He glanced over his shoulder at you with a crooked smile. “Coming?”

You nodded and rushed after him.

It wasn’t long until you reached the large wooden doors of the grand hall. Two guards in armor threw them open for the prince and you felt mortified that you couldn’t handle the harp by yourself. The looks of the dwarfs in the hall were enough to melt your dignity like an icicle in the sun.

“Brother, you’re late.” You looked up from the stone floor to see Prince Fili smirking at his brother.

“Hardly,” Prince Kili said with a roll of his eyes. “Even so, it was for a good reason. This lovely dam needed help with her harp. We couldn’t start without her, could we?” He winked at you and you sent your eyes to the floor again.

“Thank you again for your assistance, Prince Kili. I will take the harp over to the stage and we will begin for you as soon as possible-”

You hardly finished your sentence before he wheeled it over to the stage for you, easily lifting it off the dolly and placing it on the wooden platform. “Here?”

You blinked wildly. “Tha-that’s fine. Thank you very much.”

He passed you, leaning to your ear. “I very much look forward to hearing your music.”

You nodded and curtsied, then rushed to the stage. Buck chided you endlessly in a harsh whispered yell. Why were you late? Why was Prince Kili doing your work for you? Why couldn’t you stay with the group?

“You left me to bring in that harp all alone! Did you not expect me to have trouble? To get lost? Do you think I know where in Mahal’s name the grand hall is? We’re in the damned mountain of Erebor, Buck!” Your whisper was low but heated and you were practically nose to nose with Buck.

The sound of a chuckle pulled you from your argument. You turned, seeing Prince Kili ignoring his brother and instead looking at you. His smile was wide as he shook his head at you.

Your eyes blew round and focused again on the floor as you backed away from Buck. You circled around your harp that was set in the middle of the musicians and adjusted your skirts before sitting on your stool. You closed your eyes and focused on the set ahead while Buck spoke to the audience, giving an introduction and thanks.

Song after song seemed to fly by. You played most of them with your eyes closed, allowing your fingers to blindly and accurately find the correct strings to pluck. Often, you sang harmonies with the other musicians until it came time for you to sing your song. It was the only one you would sing by yourself in the set.

Buck stepped out before you and placed a hand on your shoulder. “This next tune is a real treat. (Y/N), here, our harp player, will take the stage alone and sing “I’d Pluck a Fair Rose.”

Sudden applause began and startled you, doubling your nerves. You followed the sound and saw that Prince Kili had started it. A smile pulled at the side of your mouth, but you closed your eyes and took a deep breath to steady yourself. Then you started to play.

“I’d a pluck a fair rose for my love

I’d a pluck a red rose blowin’

Love’s in my heart, I’m tryin’ so to prove

What your heart’s knowin.’”

You had sung the song so many times, you hardly needed to think of the words or pitches. That played to your favor as your mind was busy thinking of Prince Kili. You felt his eyes on you and as steady as your emotions usually were, you felt yours going haywire at this moment.

Between the verses, there was an interlude of just the harp. You took this moment to glance at him and you regretted it. He was watching you intently through the thick brown hair that fell over his eyes.

A shaky breath led you into the next verse.

“I’d a pluck a finger on a thorn

I’d a pluck a finger bleedin’

Red is my heart, wounded and forlorn

And your heart needin.’”

Now, you saw Prince Fili lean over to his brother’s ear. Prince Kili smirked and whipped back a remark and elbowed his brother away. Soon, his eyes returned to you and you saw the light dancing in them.

“I’d a hold a finger to my tongue

I’d a hold a finger waitin’

My heart is sore, until it joins in song

With your heart matin.’”

You let the last notes ring out through the hall. There was silence until Buck and the other musicians joined you again on stage and started the applause. You stood and bowed with a small curtsey. When you lifted your head again you saw both princes standing for you. You felt yourself flush from your chest to your ears and dipped your chin in a nod before returning to your stool for the last song.

The set ended with a rowdy number that encouraged the audience to dance. It was great fun and you always enjoyed playing it, but tonight you hardly payed it any attention. Your head was in the clouds and it only landed when Buck pulled you off your stool to stand and bow with the rest of the musicians. He thanked the audience loudly and you were left to pack up your things.

“You were wonderful, (Y/N).”

You whipped around to the familiar voice. Standing beside the stage were the two princes. Prince Kili reached out a hand to assist you in stepping off the short platform. “A much better harp player than harp transporter.”

“I would hope so,” you laughed forgetting yourself. You quickly regained your resolve. “Thank you, Prince Kili.” You curtsied.

Prince Fili looked over your shoulder. “Packing up already?’

“Yes, my prince. Always off to the next show,” you said.

“When can I see you again? See you perform again?” Prince Kili asked.

You didn’t miss his brother’s snort. “Well, you are the prince. You call, we play,” you said.

“I’d be careful saying that if I were you. He’ll have you singing him to sleep every night,” Prince Fili chuckled.

You giggled at that, but laughed loudly when Prince Kili pushed his hand into his brother’s face, sending him away.

“Would you like to play here?” Prince Kili asked. “The hall must have nice… sound…with all the stones and… and walls.”

You hid your amused smile. “It’s lovely here. It’s an honor playing in the mountain for you and your family. And yes, the acoustics are perfect in this hall. I’ve never performed in a space quite like it.”

“Good,” he said. He called to Buck. “I’d like your group to be our court musicians. You’re free to travel and play wherever you wish, but four times a month, you will play here.”

Buck looked as if he were about to faint. He grabbed your forearm and sucked in a breath. “Wonderful, my prince. We will play marvelous sets for you. You will not be disappointed.”

“I am sure I won’t be.”

You shrank a bit under his gaze and breathed out a laugh as you listened to Buck excitedly deliver the news to the other musicians. “We’ll need many new songs! Four times a month? Go! Go write some new songs! Tonight! I want them tonight!”

Prince Kili held his hands behind his back and smiled, laughing heartily at Buck. When his attentions returned to you, you said, “This is very kind of you. Are you sure you won’t soon tire of us?”

“Some, I’m sure. But it will be well worth it to hear you sing again.” When you couldn’t find a reply, he asked, “Will you need assistance with your harp?”

“No, thank you, Prince Kili. I’m going to make Buck do it.”

“Serves him right for leaving you alone today.” He leaned to your ear. “But I’m very glad he did.” He took your hand and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Goodnight, (Y/N). I will see you in a week’s time.”

With that he stalked off and joined his brother. Just before they exited the hall, Prince Kili pushed his brother hard and Prince Fili sent a laughing glance over his shoulder to you. You returned his wave goodbye and wondered what you had just gotten yourself into.

[athena-athena]

Oh oh oh! You NEED to do RavagerQueen for "I can't reach to put the star on top of the tree"!!!

*squeals*  Thank you so much for requesting this, darling!!  You completely made my day!! 😍😃💖

A/N:  Sometimes I forget that @bigbandbombshell and I are the only ones familiar with the term RavagerQueen, but I think this is a good time to finally make an announcement about something I’ve been kinda keeping secret for months now.  I have a new Yondu fic that I’m planning to start sharing in 2020, featuring my OC, Athena!  It’s called Be Good to Me and it’s 48,000 words, which is far longer than any other story I’ve written, and I can’t wait to share it!  Consider this a sneak-peek into Yondu and Athena’s relationship.  :)

Warnings: None.

Tagged List:  @trashpandaorigins @rooker-character-fics  (I’m not going to use my normal tagged list for these, so if you’d like to be added to my temporary tagged list for this holiday bingo, just let me know!)

“Yondu?” asked Athena, sticking her head around the door to the control room, where Yondu was sitting as he worked out some details about his next job.

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Can we go get a Christmas tree?”

He turned around to look at her.  “A Christmas tree?”

Athena smiled. “Yeah.”

“Where we gonna get one a those?”

“Terra.”

“Ya wanna go all tha way ta Terra ta get a tree?  Them Christmas trees don’t grow nowhere else?”  He didn’t give her a chance to answer.  “Nah, guess they don’t.  Ain’t never seen any trees with them shiny things on ‘em, ‘cept on Terra.”

Athena stifled a laugh.  “They don’t grow with the decorations already on them!”

Yondu’s eyes widened slightly for just a moment.  “I’m gonna kill Quill!  He always said they grow that way!”

She couldn’t help her laughter at his indignation.  “He was just teasing you, they don’t grow that way.  You get a tree and then decorate it yourself.”  She walked into the room and sat in the co-pilot’s chair.  “So, what do you say?”

“Yeah, reckon we can go down an’ get’cha a Christmas tree tomorrow.”

Athena leaned over and kissed him.  “Thank you!”

Yondu grinned. “’Course, darlin’.”

“Ya sure we need all these dec’rations fer one tree?” Yondu asked as he brought in the last box of decorations they’d purchased on Terra.

“Yes!”  Athena was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to the tree, already opening one of the boxes.

Yondu shook his head slightly.  “Seems like an awful lot fer one tree.”

“It’s going to look great, trust me.”

Yondu set the box with the others, then sat next to Athena as she looked through the decorations.

“Aren’t these gorgeous?”  She held up two ornaments for him to see.  

“Yeah, reckon so. Ain’t as gorgeous as you, though.”

She blushed and leaned over to kiss his cheek, then placed the ornaments back in the box.  “Flattery won’t get you out of helping me decorate.”

“Wouldn’t dream of tryin’ ta get out of it.”

“Good.” Smiling, she stood and held out a hand to help him up, then picked up some tinsel, which she loosely wrapped around his neck so she could pull him down to kiss his lips.  “I’ve already put the lights on the tree, so you can wrap the tinsel around it.”

“Got it.”

He tossed the tinsel onto the tree then turned back to face Athena, who had her back to him as she picked up a couple of ornaments out of a box.

“Wha’dya think, darlin’?”

She turned and stared, wide-eyed, at the tinsel bunched up and hanging off one side of the tree.  “What is that?”

He shrugged.  “Tinsel?”

“You have to drape it gracefully all around the tree, not just in one spot.”

“Oh.”

She took the tinsel off the tree and began to drape it around the front. “Like this, see?”

“Oh, yeah.  That looks much better.  Yer good at this stuff.”

“Thank you!”  She beamed and kissed his cheek as she passed him on her way back to the box of decorations.  “Now we just need to hang the ornaments.”  

Yondu picked one up and examined it.  “Any particular spot on tha tree where ya want ‘em?”

“Nope, just wherever you think it looks nice.”

They spent a happy hour decorating the tree, laughing and, occasionally, kissing.  Finally, Athena stood back to admire their handiwork.

“It looks beautiful!”

“Sure does.”

She missed the soft look he gave her as she turned back to the almost-empty boxes.  “Oh!  I almost forgot to put the star on top!”

She removed it from the box, then practically skipped back to the tree, beaming at Yondu as she passed him.  She reached up as high as she could, standing on her tip-toes, almost tipping into the tree in her struggle.  Yondu grabbed her around the waist to keep her from knocking the tree over.

“I can’t reach to put the star on top of the tree!”

“I got it, darlin’.”  

But instead of taking the star from her, he picked her up and lifted her so she could reach the top herself.

After she placed the star, he gently lowered her back to the floor, but didn’t remove his arms.  She turned in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck.

“Thanks,” she told him, smiling softly.  

“My pleasure, darlin’.”

She kissed him, briefly, then said, “I love you, Yondu.”  

“I love ya, too, ‘Thena.”  

Their next kiss was not so brief, and it was quite a while before they remembered to admire the effect of the star on top of the tree.  

[uhyeahisurehopeitdoes-blog]

For You

Summary:  While recovering from a rough injury, you and McCree take some time to talk things out.

( McCree x Reader )

~

Looking back on it, there wasn’t anything he could do, really. You’d made your choice, and that was that. No matter how indecisive you typically seemed to be, when it came to McCree, you didn’t show much hesitation. As endearing as this was to him, it often didn’t do any favors for his mental state.

Especially once he noticed you on the ground, bleeding and unconscious after taking a bullet for him.

Although now patched up and sound asleep, McCree had to discard the scene of you from his mind while he glanced at you, working quietly on the small table beside your bed. After three days of heavy medication and recovery, Mercy finally eased off on her dosages, allowing you to be coherent once you got enough rest. McCree guessed that you would be awake soon enough, and he was trying his best to be there for that. Even if you weren’t actually “awake” most of the time before, he figured you could at least use someone’s presence while you were in here. Especially now, even if it was 1:14 in the morning.

With a yawn, McCree moved himself to stand up and stretch, relieving some of the ache he felt from sitting for too long. While he was able to get some decent work done while you were in here, doing mission reports for this length of time wasn’t making him feel any younger, especially with the lack of sleep he’d been getting lately. Maybe I shouldn’t’ve put them off for this long.

Before casting a final glance at you, McCree let out a heavy sigh as he began to exit the medbay, planning to make his way outside for a smoke. Leaving you made his chest ache with anxiety, but he needed something to clear his head. And maybe get a drink, too. Before he could fully leave the doorway, though, he paused for a moment. I must be hearing things.

“Mmh…Jesse?”

Quickly turning around, McCree stared in awe to see you suddenly yawning and wiping the sleep from your eyes. “Am I… In the medbay?” you groggily questioned, gazing around at the soft, dim yellow lighting of the room.

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re awake,” McCree exclaimed as he approached your side with a grin, pulling a chair closer to sit next to you. Gently taking your hand in his, McCree continued, “Yeah, you’re in the medbay. Been here for a few days, now.” Gently squeezing his hand back, you smiled back at him, finding comfort in his gesture and voice. “How are you feelin’, sweet pea?” McCree questioned, curiosity and concern seeping through his tone. “Hmm. Sleepy. ‘Feels good you’re here too, though,”

You looked back at him with dazed eyes, beginning to inspect your form and the space around you with more awareness. You motioned to sit up, only to discover an intense pain in your left shoulder. A quiet “Oh,” was all you could mutter after letting out a small hiss in discomfort . Your lover was quick to lean closer, quickly examining your actions with a concerned look overcoming his features. “Careful, sugar,” Confusion began to muddle your mind before memories started to pour back in, and you were quickly reminded of your actions and the events that transpired a few days ago.

Freeing your hand from his you carefully shifted your garment and blankets to reveal your heavily bandaged shoulder, along with a few other noticeable scrapes and bruises. “Oh,” you whispered in quiet bewilderment. “Well, fuck.”

“Not exactly the reaction I was expectin’, but I’m glad to see you’re back to yourself.” McCree chuckled. “Of all the places I thought I’d get shot first, my shoulder wasn’t really at the top of the list.” You stated, moving to gently graze your hand over the bandages. “You weren’t hurt, were you?” You asked, turning to face him, worry beginning to creep into your mind. McCree simply huffed at your question. “Is that really with what you’re concerned with?” you began to reach out for him before he could finish the thought, but he captured your hands in his, placing them gently back down by your side. “Naw, I’m just fine.”

“Mmm. I’m glad,” you said with a lazy smile. Noticing the time displayed on the wall, you peered at McCree with a bit of shock. “How long have you been here?” McCree gave you an almost sheepish look, glancing away briefly before rubbing the back of his neck, confirming your rising suspicions. “A few hours,” he admitted. “I was actually about to… uh, get some shut eye, but then, well,” McCree surveyed your form before meeting your eyes again. “You woke up, and all.” he smirked. Although you didn’t have any prior context, you knew your boyfriend, and it was likely he wasn’t actually going to bed; not with you in this state.

“You haven’t been taking care of yourself, have you,” it was more of a affirmation than a question, but you still glared at him, expecting an answer you already knew.

“Now what makes you think that, sugar?” while there was a hint of defiance in his tone, you knew he knew that he’d already been caught. “You look like shit, Jesse.” you stated, crossing your arms. You saw that familiar, minuscule shift in his expression at your implication, and you could tell you’d struck a bit of a nerve. “yeah, well,” he started, “kinda hard to do anything after having to carry your unconscious partner under heavy fire for an hour without any reinforcement.”

You’re not sure if it was the medication, drowsiness, or just you’re stubbornness, but you began to feel your nerves start to prick at that. Of course you understood why he was getting a bit irritated, but his attitude was making you get on the defensive, as well. “ah,” you said sarcastically, “lovely to hear that you’ve been spoiling yourself while I’ve been practically half dead.”

McCree glared back, eyebrows knitting together a bit. “hey, don’t you start with that. You’ve had your fair share of moping, too, so don’t act like you’re exempt or somethin’,” he contested. “I’m not saying I haven’t, Jess, but you know I don’t like it when you’re not looking after yourself like that,” you leaned forward, reaching out for his hand again, but this time McCree crossed his arms before you could touch him. “You’re in the hospital for getting shot and have the nerve to try and lecture me for not taking care of myself?” he scoffed. You narrowed your eyes at that, and met his gaze with an icy glare.

“Awfully bold of you to try that after I saved your life.”

“And what? You want me to be thankful you nearly killed yourself in the process?” McCree snapped, eyes narrowing narrowing to match yours. “I don’t need protectin’, y/n.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you laughed. “Did you really just say that?” you couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip at his implication. McCree’s expression didn’t falter, though, and simply furrowed his brows even further at your laughing. “Is that what you think this is about? That I think you can’t handle yourself and I need to babysit you or something-”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything about that,” McCree spat. “You know that’s not true, but I don’t need you getting fuckin’ shot just because I wasn’t payin’ better attention.”

“That’s not the point, Jesse!” you exclaimed, arms frantically gesturing. “This is what we do- we help people, and if you think I’m just going to let you or anyone else get hurt without doing anything, then you’re wrong.”

“Y/n,“ he started. “I know you’re more than capable of holdin’ your own, but you know how much I hate seeing you hurt, and seeing you… Like that, during the mission, just about fuckin’ broke me. Mercy wasn’t near us, and for once I wasn’t sure if-” McCree quickly stopped himself from finishing that thought, before continuing. “I’m tryin’ to be reasonable here, but can’t you understand what that kind of shit does to me?” Frustration getting the better of you, you scoffed, and raised your voice with a stern glare.

“Of course I understand, Jesse, but I did it for you, asshole. I know you don’t like it, but it’s what happened, and I would and will do it again if I get the chance to, no matter how many times you tell me not to, because I love you. Can’t you understand that?” You protested.

McCree simply stared back at you, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint schooling his features; determined, you met his gaze with confidence as you the two of you had your own mini staring contest, unwilling to be the one break first. After a moment of silence, McCree eventually turned away with a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “God, y/n. What am I gonna do with you?”

Your lover’s sudden change of tone and attitude made your cheeks flush a bit, but you were determined to keep a straight face. This quickly proved to be very difficult, though, as you couldn’t help the slight laugh and smile that overcame you. “Well, a kiss would be a good start.” You felt your chest begin to swell with fondness as you heard McCree begin to laugh, before moving to, as carefully as he could, capture you in a hug. McCree always seemed to have a way with putting you at ease, and being wrapped in his embrace right now was definitely no exception; even if the position was a bit awkward. The heat that was radiating from him was comforting, and his scent and hold on you made your heart squeeze with affection as you held him back even tighter.

“Look, y/n, I just… I don’t want to lose you. Not like I’ve lost everyone else.” McCree softly said as he rubbed your back soothingly. “I know.” You relished in the moment before McCree slowly shifted to gently hold your chin and take your hand, forehead coming to rest on yours. He said nothing at first, letting go of a deep breath before continuing, softly, “Promise me you’ll be more careful?”

You squeezed his hand back, and placed a hand on his chest before smiling. “I’ll see what I can do, cowboy.” you both started to laugh at that, and McCree captured your lips in a slow and passionate kiss. Time seemed to slow down as you two basked in each other’s touch, savoring the way you felt against one another. Eventually, though, you could feel McCree gradually putting more and more of his weight against you; taking this as a hint, you carefully moved over and dragged him down to lay next to you. A soft “oof” left his lips before you both began to chuckle, beaming at each other. You both shifted in an attempt to create enough space for the two of you, which, in all fairness, wasn’t possible, but neither of you minded as you became nearly flush against each other. You gazed fondly at each other as McCree took your hand in his, brushing his lips against your knuckles, and it wasn’t until now that you noticed just how exhausted he really looked.

“You look tired.” you commented. “Here,” it took some shuffling and a bit of effort, but you were able to share your blanket with him, along with your pillow. “Cozy?” you asked, resulting in a huff from McCree as he moved to place a soft kiss on your lips. “Couldn’t be better, darlin’.” he whispered. McCree’s expression shifted into something a bit more somber, as he confessed, “Sorry I yelled, earlier,”

“It’s okay,” you moved your leg to go in between his, snuggly. “Sorry I yelled, too. And made you worry.” you stated. “It’s okay.” he captured your lips in another soft kiss, noses nearly touching, before adding, “I love you.” you smiled at that, moving yourself to cuddle into his chest, your head tucked under his. You softly placed a kiss there, returning the gesture. “I love you, too.”

Your eyes began to feel heavy as the sound of McCree’s breathing started to lull you to sleep. You couldn’t stop it if you tried, and you muttered a sleepy “Goodnight” to your lover as you snuggled in closer to him. McCree moved to place a kiss atop your head, muttering an equally tired goodnight. It didn’t take long for either of you to fall asleep after that, thoughts coming to an ease.

Well, almost to an ease. Before you remembered Mercy was most likely going to lose her shit tomorrow when she walked in and saw you two.

[jiminshoney]

Where You Belong (Part 1)

Word Count: 7,522

Summary: When your relationship hits a rough patch you fall into the comfort of Taehyung who has, unfortunately, fallen for you. Possibly a soulmate au, not a typical one. // Taehyung x Reader x Jungkook

A/N: I haven’t posted my writing in quite some time so this is giving me lots of anxiety but I can’t stay away from writing angst so thank you to my dear friend Natalia for supporting this story and encouraging me to share it

-----

When you met Jungkook during your first year of college, you were enchanted the very moment his big brown eyes locked with yours and he smiled. He’d been chatting with your friend outside one of the science labs while she waited on you. Upon your arrival she introduced the two of you quickly, explaining that Jungkook was her partner for a project in their biology class. You remember feeling like you could melt when he’d shaken your hand, the contrast of his warm fingertips against the December frost swooned you alone. You felt yourself unable to tear from his gaze while your friend’s voice blurred into the background.

He’s beautiful, you thought.

After he left your friend shoved you harshly, commenting on how obvious you were.

“You’ve practically got fucking hearts bulging out of your eyes,” she’d said. But you were too busy watching his figure disappear off the trails to care. So what if she noticed? “You can forget about it, there’s 20 other girls like you right now who want him. He’ll never give you the time of day.”

You only scowled at her, annoyed. She was wrong, you had just experienced love at first sight. Mutually. At least that’s what you convinced yourself initially. Why else would he have smiled at you so confidentiality, or stared into your eyes for so long. What else could explain the way your heart was forcefully pounding in your chest.

Well, not love, because after that day your friend’s words proved to be true. The second time you ran into him was during a brief exchange in the library, if you could even call it that. You saw him a few feet away walking out of the computer lab just as you were heading there. You waved your hand high to get his attention, stopping in your tracks as you stood there grinning, expecting him to meet you in the middle. Instead, he offered a toothless smile and nod as he continued towards his original destination, not faltering at all. The rush of air that passed took the breath out of your chest along with it, leaving you with a genuine feeling of stun.

Did he just reject me?

Anytime you think back to that day your ears burn with embarrassment. You wonder how stupid you must’ve looked standing there expectantly. He probably brushed it off though, tossing you and the memory into file with other thirsty girls who sought after him like puppies.

You didn’t want to be like them though. And not for the sake of standing out from the other girls to get noticed- not for that at all. But because you didn’t want to be a trivial memory in his mind of someone who was probably desperate or going to chase after him. You were neither of those things. So you chose to crush on him silently from a distance. You didn’t know much about him back then if anything at all, maybe it was only his attractiveness that drew you in, but it didn’t stop the feeling in your heart whenever you saw him around. Even if he paid you no mind.

-----

It became apparent nearly a year later that the boy never even remembered your name. It was the first day of sophomore year then and you finally found yourself in a shared classroom with Jungkook. The professor had put you all in rotating groups to do self introductions. When you found yourself in front of him he smiled at you the same way he had before.

Maybe I’m not special and he smiles at everyone like that.

“You look familiar...” He’d said.

You prayed that familiarity was from your first meeting and not that cringey moment in the library.

“Er, yeah… we’ve met.”

“We have?”

“I’m Mimi’s friend.”

“Mimi?”

“Seriously? You had a bio class with her last fall, you guys did your final project together how can you-”

“Ohhh! Oh, oh, oh! I remember her now! Sorry…” He looked down solemnly and pursed his lips, “I’m forgetful, I’m sorry. Especially when it comes to ridiculous prerequisite classes I never wanted to be part of in the first place.”

Chuckling you told him, “It’s alright.” Voice coming out softer than planned. You felt apologetic yourself to him though you’d done nothing wrong.

He looked back up to you and smiled warmly, “Tell me your name again.”

“It’s Y/N. But I assume you’ll forget again in three months time when the quarters over? Since this is another ridiculous prereq and all...”

Laughter bubbled out of him at that, and you noticed the way his nose scrunched when he did so. His adorableness had you reeling. It made you want to lean over the table and peck his face, and without self-control you just may have. But you had it so instead you admired how cute he looked from your seat. Heart squeezing in your chest all the while.

“Nope.” He shook his head, raven black hair brushing over his twinkling eyes. “I won’t forget you this time.”

-----

Like a real man true to his word, Jungkook didn’t.

Not that he even had a chance to.

During that quarter you and Jungkook hit a spark and ended up spending more and more time together. It started off innocently, using ‘studying’ as an excuse to invite the other over to their dorm. But those days frequently turned into movie nights or you’d end up together at some 24-hour diner past midnight. (Those nights happened more than they should have for two college students.) Eventually you both stopped pretending homework was the only thing bringing you together and just hung out as usual whenever possible. You two were inseparable. Jungkook had become your best friend.

-----

Jungkook never confessed to you, never came right out and said hey Y/N I like you more than a friend, he didn’t need to. The feelings were always there, they came on early and they came on strong. His reciprocation was simply understood through his actions and your bond, communicating it wasn’t necessary.

That’s precisely why you didn’t pull away shocked when he kissed you at a New Years Eve party. Sure the timing surprised you a bit because you weren’t expecting it, but your hands naturally found their place on the back of his neck to pull him closer. It was nice not having to go through the- waityoulikemesincewhenohmygod conversation. When he broke apart from you, you only had to say, “Finally.”

That’s when the two of you became official. You hate having to tell the story though.

“It’s fucking cheesy,” You tell him every time. “Like, of course you’d kiss me on New Years.”

He just laughs at you, eyes crinkling the way you love so much.

-----

For your senior year, you and Jungkook decide to get an apartment together off campus. It’s nothing spectacular, the rooms have been remodeled but the building is old so it comes with it’s fair share of problems and the location feels inconvenient at times. But it’s a space you get to share together.

-----

February, just a month after your two year anniversary, Jungkook lands an internship with a budding gaming company. It was an amazing thing, you felt just as thrilled as him when he got chosen for the opportunity. The only real annoyance that came was that he spent nearly all his evenings at the company which just meant you spent (too much) time alone.

-----

One Wednesday afternoon when the air happened to be too thick to only be inching its way towards spring, you’d went on one of your typical solo errand runs to the grocery store. You didn’t like to go to the store too frequently so you almost always ended up buying enough food to last the both of you about two weeks. It ended up being a hassle though to carry the multiple bags alone on the walk back to your apartment. The squishy sound of thin plastic rubbing against itself always seemed too loud without Jungkook there to make you forget what you were doing anyway.

Coming up to the entrance, you struggled to get a proper grip on the handle, unable to pull open the heavy metal door to your complex with hands full of grocery bags. You huff, annoyed because there’s a gentleman inside who doesn’t seem to notice, so you kick the door to get his attention. He rushes over quickly, pushing the glass forward to let you in easily.

“Do you need help?” He offers, seeming to count just how many of those plastic filled bags you’re carrying.

“It’s fine,” You mutter. “Thanks.”

With perfect timing the elevator dings and the man rushes in front of you, holding his arm out to make sure the doors stay open while you step on.

“What floor do you need?” He asks, already pressing the 5 as he comes in behind you.

You look at him quizzically then, you realize you’ve never seen this man before and you knew everybody from your floor. “Uh, five…” You twist your wrists as the doors shut, trying to easy the strain in your joints.

“Oh, we’re going to the same floor! You sure I can’t hold a few of those?”

“It’s fine.”

“What room are you in?”

You arch a brow at him, how much caution should you be taking? He seems harmless, but the fact you’ve never seen him before and he wants to know where you live is strange. To your knowledge there aren’t any vacancies for new tenants on your floor either.

The doors ding open again upon reaching the fifth floor. Suspicious, you don’t step out quite yet.

“My apologies, this is improper. My name is Kim Taehyung, I’m the new property manager. Just tryin’ to get acquainted with everyone that’s all. Didn’t mean to rub you the wrong way.”

“Ahhh,” Visibly relaxing, you exit the elevator in timing with his steps, remembering a notice the landlord mailed out to everyone after the holidays. “Mr.Lee said he was going to hire someone to help out here!”

“Yes, that’s me.” He says proudly, revealing a charming boxy smile.

He’s handsome, you think, finally noticing the amount of radiance this man exudes and the most endearing smile you’ve ever seen. After Jungkook, of course. It’s almost alluring.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. I’m in 503.”

“Y/N from 503. I’ll remember that. Mr.Lee will send out another notice on how to reach me quickly by phone but I’ll be in 511 if you ever need me. Just down the hall.” He giggles and there’s a familiar thump in your chest but you don’t put much thought into it.

“You’ll be living here?”

“Well, yeah?”

“Sorry- you seem young it’s weird to think of you as the property manager.” You tease.

“Mm, should I call myself an assistant then? Between you and I my jobs pretty easy actually. People come to me with the problem, I’ll check it out, then tell the boss whether it’s a real problem or not so he can pay for it.”

“I hope that’s not what you put on your resume.”

“Oh no, I’ll fluff it up with shit about me doing regular electrical and plumbing assessments and taking the lead on conflict resolution for tenant complaints.”

Taehyung’s humor makes you share a bout of laughter momentarily, before the air around you starts to feel too hot. The outdoor humidity must’ve followed it’s way in.

“As much as I would love to stay and chat with you, I should go… I’m putting on a brave face but I feel like my hands could fall off any moment now.”

“Right, of course, go! It was nice meeting you Y/N.”

“You as well.”

You couldn’t have known it then, why your insides felt so warm and the air so stuffy. The weather seemed easy to blame when it was already in the mid 70s and maybe the ac isn’t adjusting properly. But that wasn’t it, if only a small piece of it.

-----

Sometime during the summer after you and Jungkook graduated, he was offered a full time position from the company he’d been interning for. He was hesitant at first, unsure if he should even accept the job. He’d gone to school for graphic design and always knew he wanted to do something in the realm of multimedia. Unfortunately, they created a role to stand beside the web developer. His words were that it felt insincere, as if they’d just flicked him into a random department to assist. He also complained the developer worked in seclusion, keeping to herself downstairs in a room where it was quieter. Surely, having to be stuck with her every day all day would be boring… he would have nowhere near as much fun as he’d had for the past half-year being able to dabble with different teams.

You on the other hand were as excited as you were the first time around. Sure it wasn’t his dream, he hadn’t imagined assisting on web content right out of school. But hell, he was lucky enough to even be offered a job related to what he studied. Plus, they made room for him. They liked him that much, so much so that they created a job just so he could stick around. It didn’t mean he had to stay in that role, he could move around as other opportunities became available. And if not, he could at least take the experience to help land him his next job.

Reluctantly, he accepted.

The first few weeks he complained a lot. There were lots of mornings he ignored his alarm and you had to force him out of bed. There were nights he came home so dejected there were no amount of kisses in the world that could pull him out of his rut.

“You hate it that much?” You sighed one night, plopping down next to him on the edge of the bed.

He shrugged, kicking his feet childishly. “I’d rather be working on game development or animation or something with the other guys upstairs. I don’t give a shit about the stupid website.”

“But you still get to design stuff right?”

“Not even…” He lets out a frustrated sigh, letting his body fall back on the bed. You follow his actions, wrapping an arm around his middle as he continues. “There’s barely anything for me to do since Lia just takes on everything. She makes me fix bugs or upload new updates. Like today, a new banner of hers got approved so I literally just dragged it onto the page, waited 30 minutes for the sync to complete, then when I was done she told me to figure out why the paypal link on the checkout page wasn’t working and fix that.”

He rolls his eyes and you know none of this is supposed to be funny but seeing him pout like this you can’t help but chuckle. “I’m sorry, baby.” You coo, tilting your chin to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Maybe it’s just because she doesn’t quite trust you yet, you know? You gotta show some initiative, come up with your own ideas and share them with her. Maybe then she’ll let you handle bigger tasks.”

“I don’t know. It’s starting to feel like some shitty internship-- Y/N I swear to God if she ever asks me to go get coffee I’m quitting.”

You wish he would have been more resistant. You wish he would’ve ignored your initial attempts to convince him. You wish he threw in the towel when it first started making him unhappy. You wish he would’ve just put his foot down and said no, this isn’t what I want to do. Even if it meant he had to settle elsewhere until things looked up.

You wish he never stayed with that company. Because as things got better and he became more satisfied with work, he became more detached from you.

The change wasn’t blatantly obvious at first, it happened gradually. He always gave you a hug and kiss as soon as he got home, sometimes he didn’t. He always texted you throughout the day, sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes eventually became all the time when you two never spoke during the day anymore and you realized you always kissed him first.

But he’d still kiss you back, still cuddle up to you at night and tell you that he missed you today, still say I love you before you left off to work. Through the changes he kept you hanging somewhere in the middle.

Weeks went by and his supervisor finally let him take lead on an app the company was about to launch. Like always, you were happy for him, though it proved to be no help in your relationship. Being able to execute all his ideas and design layouts- he left work before you now, and if it wasn’t that he wouldn’t be home til nearly midnight. When he was home during the evening his attention remained on his laptop. You started falling asleep outside his embrace, his hands too busy tending to his tablet where he was probably drawing something.

“Don’t stay up too late.” You’d say, though it would already be nearing 2 AM. You would try to fight your own fatigue, wanting to wait for him to finish so you could fall asleep together but there was no use. He’d hum a response, at least giving you enough attention for a second to let you know he heard you. But he wouldn’t kiss you or at bare minimum utter a goodnight.

You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Perhaps life was sending your relationship to the ringer. You’d gone these years in your own little world of secluded bliss, maybe it was time that life tested the strength of your bond. Perhaps no longer being students but two working adults in the “real” world was just taking its toll. Maybe he was so focused and happy about projects at work that by the time he got with you he was distracted and didn’t have the energy to give that enthusiasm back to you.

It wasn’t all bad all the time, at least you had Taehyung.

-----

During Taehyung’s first few weeks getting acclimated with the building and all the new faces and names he had to memorize, you often saw him around, always dressed neatly in a white button-down tucked into black slacks. He came across professional and put together, making you feel the pressure of needing to remain poised and impressionable even though he was the one trying to do just that. He always addressed you by name, a nice change from Mr. Lee’s scratchy “Uh, 5th floor right?” when he saw you. To be fair, the old man was hardly around and owned two complexes which meant more people to keep up with.

Taehyung was a delight and winning over everyone’s hearts in no time. He added a vending machine in the gym, stocked with gatorade and water bottles which was a thousand times better than the dinky fountains. You heard from a girl on the floor above yours that when her window cracked he had it taken care of before the weekend. Through word of mouth you heard he always bought coffee for the security guard working graveyard shift, supposedly dinner sometimes too. You never had to call him for anything but everyone always said he was extremely easy to get in contact with. It probably helped that he lived here and didn’t seem to have any other day job but it was still another nice change from Mr.Lee who’s record response time was three business days.

The two of you first got close one evening when he was entering the building just as you were leaving. He was dressed in a sapphire blue dress suit, the first time you’d seen him in anything other than his normal attire and of course it would be even fancier than before.

“Woo, look at you!”

For a moment it seemed his cheeks were turning color but he was doing a spin before you could fully tell. “Like it?”

“You look... great!” Truly he did, like a model plucked straight from a catalog. You were lost for the appropriate word. “Where are you coming from dressed like this?”

“A date.” He smirks.

“Ahh… a date…” You ponder the word, wondering what kind of date it must’ve been if he had to dress up like this. Could it have been at one of those upscale restaurants that make you pay just to reserve a table.. Where would he have got the money for that anyway... and, I wonder what kind of girls he’s into?

“Jealous?”

You shoot your eyes at him, seeing he still has a smirk on his lips. His eyes are teasing but the word still annoys you, or you’re just flustered with yourself for letting your mind wander. “I-Taehyung, I have a boyfriend.”

“I know... I’ve seen him. “

“You met?”

“Not formally. One night I just saw some guy trying to get into your apartment and I was staring at him and finally he looked back at me like why is this guy glaring at me go into my apartment. I guess I put two and two together.”

You nod but don’t say anything, still the slightest bit annoyed but you couldn’t say why.

“I was joking, I’m sorry. Uh, I had dinner with my parents. My dad’s a super important business guy so if I’m not dressed to a T my mom will scold me for days about it.” He laughs but it feels forced and the smile from it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anyway, where are you off to?”

“Uh, I’m hungry and I don’t feel like cooking so-”

“Boyfriend making you walk by yourself this late?”

For some reason his question makes you tense, “He’s working.” You feel a strong urge to defend him, to tell Taehyung Jungkook’s a really nice guy and he cares about me and if he was home I wouldn’t even be out here right now. But that would just be you emotionally rambling. You knew deep down even if he was home he probably wouldn’t have noticed you walk out anyway.

“Well there’s this taco truck on the other side of the block I know of…If you don’t mind me showing you.”

“Didn’t you just have dinner?”

“Sitting with my dad for more than ten minutes kills my appetite. I could use some food.” He chuckles, a bit more naturally this time, and the depth of his tone eases the anxiety that was starting to build in you.

“Sure.” You smile. “Let’s go.”

-----

It was the beginning of fall then but traces of summer kept you warm around him, or could it have been his energy?

You got to learn more about Taehyung that night. You learn that his true passion lies within photography, and it’s what he does for extra money, but his dad doesn’t support it and has been nagging him for the longest to get a “real” job. He lived with his parents up until March of this year when they  got fed up and kicked him out. By some type of strange luck, his dad happened to be good friends with Mr.Lee and helped him get this job.

At the beginning of the year his resolution was to save up the money he was making from different gigs until the summer, that's when he would kickstart his dream of becoming a travel blogger. That all changed when his dad threw a wrench in his plan.

“I like helping out at the apartment, I feel important there.” He tells you. “But now I’m worried I’m gonna get trapped here and never be able to explore my dreams.”

It’s interesting to hear life problems and fears from someone who comes across calm, cool, and collected all the time. It makes you feel less insecure about the fact your own life isn’t what it appears to be behind closed doors.

Maybe everybody’s world was like this, collectively walking on rocky ground while trying to stay optimistic even though you’re scared. By letting down his walls it naturally allowed the two of you to become close and from then on he becomes one of your closest friends.

It wasn’t all bad all the time, you had Taehyung.

You ended up spending a lot of your free time with him. When places came up that you wanted to visit he’d be the one you were dragging along because of course Jungkook would be too busy. Somewhere along the line you two started having dinner together nearly every night whether it was his place, your place, or somewhere out in the city. Although, eating at Taehyung’s place might as well have been the same as eating out because the boy couldn’t even cook anything decent which meant he always ordered delivery. That was alright, it never really mattered what you two did together because being in his presence on its own was enjoyable. He kept you comfortable and kept your spirits up, always forgetting that one thing that otherwise kept you sad.

-----

For Halloween you and Jungkook make plans to see a new horror movie that drops that night. It’s your first date in who knows how long, but without fail he texts you an hour before he’s supposed to get off.

From: jungkook♥ [4:57 PM]

Hey babe, I’m really sorry… Namjoon invited me to this bar. It’s supposed to be really fun on Halloween. You know I haven’t been able to hang out with the other guys in a while so I’m gonna go, ok? We can still see the movie on Saturday. Promise

It’s not shocking but still really disappointing. You two hadn’t spent any quality time together in ages so to be blown off for his coworkers of all things admittedly hurt a lot. You found yourself in the same old situation, treading your way to Taehyung’s door to invite him instead.

“Trick or treat!” You beam when he opens the door, already masking your emotions so he wouldn’t worry or ask questions.

“Oh- I- I didn’t buy any candy.” He looks back into his apartment worriedly, and you can read in his eyes that he’s trying to figure out where he may have some tucked away.

“Hey, it’s fine.” You laugh, tugging on his arm to make him face you again. “That’s not why I’m here. Got any plans?”

“Uh, nothing in particular. Mr. Lee told me to stay home to make sure the building doesn’t get egged though.”

“Okay that’s literally never happened and not going to, sooo... I was supposed to go to the movies tonight b-”

“Ahh,” Taehyung hums, his expression flattening. “Let me guess... your boyfriend flaked and you’re here to try out option number two.”

“Don’t be like that,” You pout. “I always wanna go to these places with you just as much as I want to go with him.”

“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You know what I mean! Why are you being like this?”

He ignores the question and turns back into his apartment, “What time is the movie?”

You follow his lead and shut the door behind you, watching him head down the hall to likely go get ready.  “If you don’t take a year to do your hair we can go to the show that starts in two hours.”

-----

You’re able to make it there an hour before the movie starts, the theater unsurprisingly having two equally long lines already. There's an array of people waiting to buy tickets, between horror movie fans there for the same reason as you, mom-friends with their children dressed in animal and princess costumes, and then the handful of couples with the shared unoriginal idea for a Halloween movie date. You can’t blame them, you would’ve been one of them.

Taehyung speaks up just as you notice more people trailing in behind you, “Don’t think I missed what you said earlier. I don’t think I take that long to do my hair. You make me sound vain.”

You smile up at him, knowing he knows it too since he settled for wearing a beanie tonight. “You do take a while but I don’t think it’s that. I just think you care a lot about how you’re perceived.”

“That’s not a bad thing.” He counters.

“Mm, no. But does it really matter, what others think?”

He tilts his head, thinking before deciding, but before he gets a chance to answer one of the employees steps out of the ticket booth holding a sign and instructs everyone to form a new line if they are here specifically for the new movie premiere. He unfolds the stand that has the movie’s poster on it and a big black arrow to guide people to a designated window.

Taehyung links his arm with yours and pulls you along with the crowd as nearly half the people there rush to get toward the front of the new line. You’re able to mostly avoid the pushing and shoving as you settle behind a couple in front of you.

The girl happens to glance back at you and smile, her curly hair bouncing when she turns back and lays her head on the guy’s shoulder. His arm automatically wraps around her waist and the action has you pulling your own away from Taehyung quickly. It makes you self conscious that you’re here with him and not your own boyfriend, despite no one knowing the difference. Someone could look at you two and assume you’re no different than the pair in front of you.

Something seems oddly familiar, you realize after staring at the back of him, something about him and his dark hair feels like you’ve seen him before. Taehyung starts speaking again but you’re zoned out studying the nape of his neck, waiting for something to click in your mind or hoping he’ll just happen to turn around.

Could it be an old friend from school? Maybe someone who also lives at the apartments…?

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name pulls you out of your thoughts and you see the line has moved and Taehyung is waiting a few feet in front of you.

“Sorry!” You blurt, darting forward. “I- I was-”

“You okay?” His eyes flicker back and forth, he notices somethings on your mind.

“Yeah! This guy just seems like someone I know.” You keep your voice low as you point to him.

“Really?” He leans forward, attempting to be casual as he tries to get a better look of his face, but the guy notices and turns his head to frown at Taehyung.

“Can I help you?”

“Namjoon!?”

He whips around fully, releasing his hold on the other woman. “Heyyy…” He smiles slightly and it’s clear from his furrowed brow he doesn’t actually recognize you.

“Its Y/N! Jungkook’s girlfriend?”

“Right, Y/N!” His dimples bloom once you say that and he remembers. He steps forward to hug you and it catches you off guard but you return it nonetheless. The two of you met months and months ago when Jungkook was still an intern. You randomly brought him lunch on a day they happened to be working together and Namjoon ended up inviting you inside and let you stay a while. He was very welcoming. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, what are you doing here?”

“Um, here to see a movie.” He says obviously through a quiet laugh.

“Right, I just thought-”

“NEXT!” The employee’s voice breaks through a tiny speaker, interrupting you from revealing something you shouldn’t say- thankfully.

The girl he’s with breaks away to go to the window.

He’s already pulling his wallet from a back pocket, “Welp that’s us.”

“Hey-” You call, before he’s out of reach. “Did you come with anybody else?”

He shakes his head a negative. “Just my date.” He smiles once more before going to pay for his tickets where they were both waiting.

Anger bubbles, it comes in and rushes to a clenched fist. And beside that, laying in the pit of your stomach, is pain. You’re not sure what to say or how you should react. It’s a messy combination which makes you want to lash out and break down all at once. What does this even mean? All you know is that you’ve been lied to and it’s maddening. Where do you go from there?

“Tae-” Your eyes are glassy, not necessarily from tears of sadness, just overwhelmed by emotion. “I wanna go home.”

-----

Quiet.

That’s all you are for the time being. You’re quiet the whole twenty minute train ride home, quiet while you walk side by side down the street, you’re quiet upon entering the complex, quiet up the elevator, and quiet following Taehyung down the hall.

It’s not until you’re in the safety of his apartment that Taehyung cuts the silence.

“You don’t have to pretend in front of me.”

You’re already curled up on his couch, he comes from around the corner with a tissue box in hand. He doesn’t say anything about it, just places it gently on the coffee table and sits at the opposite end of the couch from you.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You turn your head away from him, pretending you don’t notice the gesture.

“Come on, what happened back there? Tell me who that guy was.”

“No one to me. He works with Jungkook.”

“Okay…” His voice trails, waiting for you to answer the other half of his question but you won’t. Even if it means you have to sit here in more silence. He’ll let it go eventually, like he always does whenever you get a bit moody. He’ll ask what’s wrong and you’ll say nothing, he’ll press it once or twice and when he’s unable to get through he’ll find something else to talk about. He’ll usually say something funny and you end up forgetting whatever it was that made you upset in the first place.

Not this time.

“Does that have something to do with why you’re upset right now?”

“No. I’m fine. I’m just-”

“Just what, huh? Tired? Is that what you’re gonna say?”

The harshness of his tone surprises you, but when you finally look at him you can tell he doesn’t mean to be rude. He’s frustrated, annoyed, probably with you. It would be fair, you think, since this happens more than it should. You end up bothered over something to do with Jungkook and as much as you try to suppress or hide it Taehyung always senses the change.

He drawls out your name, voice softening as he scoots closer. “Look, I know something is going on between you and Jungkook. You never wanna tell me what it is but I see through these things, I know it’s about him. You can talk to me about it, it’s okay.”

He rests his hand over your thigh and his touch feels too warm. Like all the heat from his palm is trying to melt away your facade. It works, annoyingly it does. Because in seconds you feel your wall deteriorating. Your heart aches unpleasantly, you want to let this feeling out. If anyone was going to support you right now it was him after all.

“He lied to me.” Your lip quivers and you pause to take a deep breath in. Regardless, you still couldn’t cry in front of him. You won’t allow him to see you like that. “He lied, he flaked on me because he said he wanted to hang out with Namjoon but he lied.” Your tears have a mind of their own, despite your resistance they manage to fall on their own accord. It’s frustrating and you try to look to the ceiling and blink them away but Taehyung grabs onto you and presses your head against his shoulder. You’re weak under his hold, it only makes you break more.

“It’s okay.” He repeats, silently letting you know it is completely fine to cry.

“It hurt that he’d rather hang out with his coworker than me but it wasn’t even that! Like, what is then? Maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal if it weren’t for the fact we’re already not in a good space. It’s just not the same, you know… He’s not the same, he doesn’t treat me the same. It feels like he doesn’t love me anymore.”

Your voice wavers through the sentence, saying it out loud hurts even more than thinking it. Saying it makes it feel more real, like it’s not just a paranoia but a fact. Maybe that’s why you hid everything from Taehyung for so long. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust him, you told him everything else. It makes sense to you now that it’s because you haven’t wanted to face it, facing it meant dealing with it. It’s like finding a bug in your home, who knows how long it’s been around or where it’s crawled out from, but once you find it you have to get rid of it somehow.

You break away from him to reach for a few tissues, when you sit back you notice a small wet spot soaked through the red cotton of his sweatshirt. You feel apologetic but it makes you chuckle a bit too.

“How’d you know?” You decide to ask. “That we had problems.”

“Well…” He releases a shaky breath, eyes roaming through his living room while he tries to find his words. “You spend too much time with me, for starters. Which is okay, I know you said he works late but then you were always asking me to go somewhere with you because he bailed. I mean every single time Y/N, how busy can someone be? It seemed weird. And one day we were out and it just kinda dawned on me… you don’t talk about him anymore. You used to bring him up a lot, compare him to what somebody else had done, tell me about things he was doing at work, little things like that they just stopped.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I get it. It’s love. I remember the first time you told me about him, your eyes were sparkling like they do to those little Barbie dolls.”

Laughter breaks out of you at the comparison, “A Barbie doll? Nice...”

“That’s what it reminded me of! All wide eyed, bright, and happy. Jungkook’s an asshole.”

“Taehyung.”

The moment turns serious again. Sure you were mad at him right now and as he should be Taehyung was too. Still, that didn’t open a door for him to talk badly about Jungkook.

“No, I’m gonna say it. He’s an asshole and he’s a dumbass. Jungkook’s got the second greatest woman in the world and he just… he just leaves you like this.”

“Second?”

“Mom comes first.” He chuckles, boxy grin making an appearance.

“You’re sweet…” Your voice remains calm and seemingly unbothered but internally you’re melting at the fact that this pure and thoughtful gentlemen puts you at such a high ranking. He’s literally perfect.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You’re amazing. You’re smart, you always seem to know the right thing to say. You’re loving, you’re sincere… You’re passionate. I love how you don’t half ass anything, you put effort and thought into whatever you do. I mean everything you do. You’re… everything, and… you’re so, so beautiful.”

“Alright.” You sigh, playfully rolling your eyes but really trying to hide the fact you were blushing hard.

“If Jungkook isn’t balls deep in love with you then-”

“Tae!” You laugh, shoving his chest, but his hands just find your hips and tug you closer. Too close you realize when his breath fans across your face.

“I’m being serious.”

Your eyes lock with his, “What are you saying?”

If that wasn’t some type of full blown confession, you aren’t sure what is. But that’s not what you want from him. You don’t want him to confirm it. You want him to say ‘You know it’s not like that…’ Even though it blatantly is. You’ve always known, the desire in his eyes boring into your own right now has always been there. The difference now is he’s only inches away, which makes his feelings that much harder to ignore. You need him to say otherwise because you can feel yourself cracking under his guise. He makes it hard to breathe, the proximity of his body to yours is making you too hot and it’s too much and you don’t know why.

“I think you know.”

His gaze lowers to your lips, the temptation stronger than it’s been before.

Time seems to stop then.

There’s a magnetizing pressure surrounding your bodies that awakens something inside of you. Something that sparks to life and swirls around in your chest. Maybe Taehyung has always made you feel this way. The way the first touch of the sun wraps you in it’s warmth, but sitting under it too long burns. Maybe you’ve always felt the same- a little bit... but never fully been able to reciprocate.

His eyes flutter shut, it seems like so slowly, and you’re caving under the pressure.

I could throw in the towel, you think, letting your lashes fall too. Your relationship has already run its course, hasn’t it? Already hit its peak and crashed. It’s unsalvageable anyway, right?

Delicately, you let your hand cup the side of his face, urging him to come closer. You can give in like this and give this part of you to Taehyung, who’s here and present with his undivided attention.

He’s leaning in and so are you. Your minds made up, you shouldn’t, but you’ve already cracked. It’s too late, you figure when your nose brushes his. You’re so close you can already imagine the taste of him but he’s hesitant, he’s careful, waiting on you to close the gap. It’s up to you after all.

But you don’t.

I shouldn’t.

“I can’t.”

You push his hands off of you, opening your eyes to reality as time snaps back into place.

Jungkook is still your boyfriend. It wouldn’t be right to cheat on him like this. No matter the circumstances. You didn’t have all the answers yet.

You push yourself back into the arm of the couch, you’re trying to break away from him but there’s no room left to go. You mold your hand over his knee, nudging him the slightest bit. You need room to breathe, you need the room to get your head back on straight, but a part of you didn’t want to push him where he might become unreachable.

He moves back, guiding himself all the way to the other end of the couch. The sudden space has your heart squeezing unpleasantly. He doesn’t look at you so you can’t quite read his expression with his head hung low, he could be sad or he could be angry. The guilt you feel is overwhelming either way. You know he’s not an egotistical person, but you can’t help but feel you just broke some part of him. On top of that, you almost just threw away a three year relationship in the heat of a moment.

“I’m gonna go.” Standing from the couch your legs feel like jelly, but you do your best to make your way to the door.

“Hey,” He’s quick to come after you, holding your arms in place. “You don’t have to. You can stay.”

“I can’t stay.”

“You can stay. If you don’t want to deal with him tonight you’re welcome here.”

You don’t miss the way he avoids saying Jungkook’s name. You shake your head. “I can’t stay here, not like this.” You don’t have to elaborate. The last ten minutes should say enough. You pull out of his grasp and hastily shove on your shoes .

“Y/N, stay.” He pleads. “I’ll even let you take my bed, I can sleep on the couch.”

“No! I wanna see Jungkook...”

He does a good job of keeping a straight face when you say that, no type of reaction flickers in his eyes. But when he says “Alright.” The bitterness spits itself in the air.

“Tae, it’s not meant to be this way. I shouldn’t be here right now. I’m supposed to be at home.”

“What if you belong here?”

Belong?

You think about the word for a moment and what exactly he means by that. He didn’t actually believe that, that you were meant to be here with him right now, did he? His voice seems sincere, like he’s asking you to think about it. But how could you even consider that a possibility when there was another human being out there who you’d given your heart to long ago, and whom- despite the rough patch you were currently in- you love very, very much.

“I don’t.”

TBC  Part 2

[eene-fangirl]

Stand By Ed Chapter 3 [An Ed, Edd n Eddy Fanfiction]

NOTE: Chapter 3 of @camriko-arts and I collaboration! Enjoy!

The Eds walked through a grassy field following the train tracks for some ways. Edd glanced at each of his friends. Ed was off in his own world dazzled by a butterfly flying around him. When he turned to Eddy Edd’s smile instantly faded. Eddy was baring his teeth so hard that it looked like they may break. And that was possible.

Edd remembered Eddy recounting his trip to the dentist a month after finding his brother. Other then excessive cavities from jawbreakers no doubt, Eddy’s teeth were practically cracked from grinding them together. Most likely due to his anxiety. He had a hard time talking about his feelings. They’d been bottled up for so long under that mask.

Ahead of them was a bridge. Before it was a sign that read, ‘Entering Lemon Brooke.’ Once over the bridge the tracks went on. They were surrounded by a forest of trees and not much else. Each gulped at the lingering memories. Mostly Edd. His head almost ached having to remember the awful experience.

“How long is it if we follow the tracks all the way?” Eddy asked Edd.

“The body is somewhere at the end of Lemon Brooke, correct?” Edd asked.

“That’s what I heard,” Eddy answered. He was doubtful now. After the incident with the gun Eddy was weary about anything else he had eavesdropped on Bro. He knew.

“I surmise that it will take 20 miles, maybe more, walking,” Edd reckoned.

“We’re already gonna spend the night out here. Are you sure we’ll get there by tomorrow?” Eddy asked, skeptical.

“It is simple, Eddy,” Ed spoke up, holding up his finger. “We have to follow the tracks, cut a ways through the forest, we’ll come to a junkyard, and then there’s a town not too far.”

Edd and Eddy stared at their friend, surprised. “You’ve been through here before, Ed?”

“Dad and I walked through here a lot. We brought Sarah once,” Ed stared into the ground sadly. “I miss that.”

Attempting a forced smile, Ed walked on.

The divorce was going to happen any day. And from how it sounded both parents weren’t right for custody. There was talk about another family member taking them in, but they lived in another state. Ed and Sarah were a part of the decision process both agreeing that they’d like to stay in Peach Creek. Authorities were looking around for someone to take them in whether it was a neighbor or foster care. As long as Ed stayed with Sarah he was happy.

The boys walked on following the tracks. To lighten the mood Ed started whistling a familiar toon. Edd and Eddy joined in. Or tried too. Eddy never whistled before in his life. Instead he sang along, beatboxing a rhythm and dancing.

“Ooh, ooh!” Ed excitedly spoke up. “I brought a comb!”

“You hardly have any hair, lumpy!” Eddy joked.

“Says you!” Ed retaliated, sticking out his tongue. “I brought it for us to share. You said we could get on TV when we found the body!”

Eddy snickered, flashing a grin. “Yeah, I think I’m the only one who needs a comb,” he said smoothing a hand through his recently blue dyed hair. He even let it grow out some. Edd liked it, arguably. Eddy was always looking for attention. This new style made him look... badass. Edd blushed. He could never let that escape his mouth to anyone!

Pretty soon the friends took a rest and sat on the tracks once they were in a big open area with barely any trees. There were power lines not too far from them. That meant civilization was close.

Edd was against sitting on the tracks, but as long as they were cautious. He heard the horn in the distance every so often. Edd loved that noise. Especially in the years where he could never leave his room. He looked forward to it each day. Because of that he knew the train schedule by heart.

“You said there’s a junkyard close by, Ed?” Eddy asked.

“Yeah, but we have to watch out for Chopper.”

Edd winced. “Chopper?”

“You don’t know about Chopper?” Eddy asked. Surprised mixed with fright. Edd suspiciously turned to his friend. He enjoyed messing around with him.

“Chopper is the owner’s dog of ‘Antonucci’s Junkyard,” Ed explained. “He only attacks trespassers. When Dad used to volunteer there he told me how loud Chopper was. And nippy.”

Edd shivered. He always disliked dogs. He didn’t have an exact reason. He deplored his parents actions even more for hiding him away from the world. It destroyed the social skills he already developed beyond his own age. They took away the opportunity to live. Now he was finally living out adventures with friends.

“If Chopper’s there we can give ‘im somethin’ to gnaw on. That’ll distract him from chewin’ off Double Dee’s leg,” Eddy joked, poking at his friend.

“Very funny, Eddy,” Edd replied, unamused.

“Um, guys,” Ed nervously spoke. He was looked through his sack.

“What is it, Ed?” Edd asked, concerned.

“Did any of us bring food?”

Eddy’s eyes bulged. “Shit!”

“Eddy, language!”

“Sorry! We brought no food? What’re we supposed to do?! I ain’t starvin’ myself again!”

Ed’s stomach growled. “Belly’s empty.”

“Why didn’t you bring something?” Edd confronted Eddy, his hands on his hips.

“Hey, don’t look at me! I thought you were Mr. Ready-For-Anything! How come you didn’t bring anything we could munch on?”

Edd shut his eyes for a brief moment not wanting to relieve the awkward and painful meeting he had with his parents. Every day he wished to have some sort of interaction with his parents. They’d talk and then spend the day together. Now he regret that.

“Are there any stores we could go to?” Eddy wondered.

“There’s the ‘Lemon Brooke Mini Mart’,” Edd suggested, though with little excitement in his voice. Eddy briefly looked confused but then remembered the time his friend lived here for. He could only imagine how uncomfortable he was to be back yet again.

“Right, soooo, how much money do we all got?” Eddy asked, a hint of discomfort and embarrassment in his voice.

Edd had the most. Five dollars exactly. Two dollars and seventy five cents from Ed, and only twenty five cents from Eddy.

“Hey, at least we got eight dollars!” Eddy pointed out when Edd scowled at him. “You can get water and whatever else with the rest. How expensive could a few snacks be?”

“Uh, guys, I think there’s an earthquake coming,” Ed alarmed his friends.

Edd also felt the earth shaking, but it was not due to an earthquake. The train was coming.

“We’d better make our way, gentlemen.”

Ed and Edd collected their belongings and moved off the tracks down a little hill. All except  Eddy. He threw his bag to the side. He stood, facing the oncoming train, his feet spread shoulder distance apart.

“Eddy, what are you doing? Get off the tracks this minute!” Edd warned.

“I’m gonna dodge it,” Eddy said, smiling vivaciously. “Just like how they do in the movies.”

“Eddy, no, get away from there!” Edd called out, hesitating to run to Eddy. The train was nearing closer and closer.

“You’ll get yourself killed!” Ed chimed in.

The train blew its whistle warning Eddy to move. Eddy ignored his friends warnings. Now was the time to prove he and Bro were alike. When he watched his brother play chicken with a friend he jumped out of the way at the last second. He wasn’t even scared.

“Eddy, get away from there!” Edd hollered, his voice growing hoarse.

Eddy shot his fist into the air and screamed as if he were going into battle.

Ed ran up and took hold of Eddy, briefly fighting with him. “What are you doin’?! Stop that! I wanna dodge it!”

At the last second Ed pulled Eddy away as the train shot passed them like a bull. They fell on the ground.

“You ruined my chance!” Eddy screamed. He sat up from the dirt brushing himself off.

“You could have been dead, Eddy! I don’t want you dead!” Ed’s voice broke.

Edd walked up to his friend, standing over him. “What in the world were you thinking?”

Eddy stood his ground, staring up his friend. “Just tryin’ to live a bit, sockhead! Bro said!”

They were silent, listening to the train disappear. “Eddy...”

“I know!” Eddy yelled so fiercely that it made Ed and Edd jump. He bent down and threw his big over his shoulder and marched on. “You don’t have to tell me a billion times!”

And they took off, an uncomfortable silence floating throughout the air.