#okay I skipped anything about Tommy’s time in prison | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xfeliciahardyx · 4 years ago

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Summary: What happened in the bakery changed you. The next few years would force you to harden and build so many walls that you vowed to never let anyone in. You can probably guess what happens when a certain soldier starts to scale those walls so that he can get to you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: mention of blood, intense details about ww2, side character deaths, traumatic backgrounds, mention of Nazis, mentions of broken bones and bullet wounds, children suffering due to the war, imprisonment in a concentration camp, someone does get stabbed, and angst (Warnings will be added as the story continues if need be. This is just for the first chapter!)

Taglist: ~Here~ (Feel free to add yourself to any other categories!)

Word Count: 9k

Author's Note: Okay everyone reading I first want to say thank you for reading my imagine. There are some things that I need to clarify before you start reading this. The entire series will be me going through the Captain America movies. It first starts at The First Avenger and continues through the places in time where Bucky is and where he is not OoOoOoO plot twists. But yes this can be overwhelming to read because some details are VERY graphic. i did use techniques from my medical skills class so all the medical procedures are researched and correct. Please enjoy The Winter Soldier and The White Feather or as I like to call it WSWF

The war was changing you and everyone around you. It was making kind people turn green and bad people even worse. You learned that the hard way of course. When you’d had been taken to the facility you didn’t know what to expect. Now you had been in it for God knows how long and you didn’t know what would happen. You had no way of contacting your family. Of contacting anyone you knew really. You were lost, scared, hoping for a savior that didn’t seem to be appearing. Lost traveling in a fog ridden meadow without any sense of direction. It killed you to see how many people died and suffered at the hands of the Germans, but your screams were of no use. The way they treated everyone was as horrible as a cat chasing a mouse. Like you were the filth on their boots, the scum of the earth. Any time someone said something to them they’d react as if a fire touched their skin and recoil away. They acted as if they didn’t have enough money to feed anyone properly. The food was sure to break several health codes back in the city but that didn’t seem to stop you all from eating it. If it wasn’t stale bread that you could knock someone out with, it was week old soup that had hints of green to it. The water was as piss pore and was a dull gray. Not your best moments or the biggest feast for the holidays but it was for survival. It was meant for you to get on through the day and do as you’re told. The inmates had started to call it the end of the world. You didn’t blame them because it was. That didn’t stop them from constantly complaining about every little thing. You on the other hand couldn’t give a fuck. It was like every single one up and flew away with the happiness that had been your life in France. You couldn’t even speak after the horrors the world and slammed into your life. You avoided everyone and everything that lived, scared and desperate to stay hidden. It was the way to go and others followed your lead. You weren’t one to speak or do anything with another person and the others around you knew it. So, they cleared their distance and you appreciated it. You had never been one to stay quiet for long around people. Eventually you’d try to get to know them. But you had changed just as times had. Even now you knew to keep your cool and to keep up with your manners. At any minute they could kill you. Or they could do something to shatter your already scarred mind. You knew you weren’t like the people who decided to suck up to them. Kissing the floor, they walked on for a little bit of clean water, or a bowl of soup that was freshly made. They were horrible to the suck ups and laughed at them as they did their best to seem appealing. You would never stoop as low to be a person who supported the people who had made this sad reality your life. Despite everything your parents had done to you, you always managed kindness. The girl who was secretly the crush of every guy because of her brains. The kind of girl that went to the library in her free time. The girl who never dated because she claimed she wanted to focus on school but could never know how to talk to guys. Went to the movies with her one friend who she cared about more than anything. The girl who made life positive because her family had always made it negative. Yes, you were over all kind but when you needed to be you could be as sharp as a spear. So, why did they kidnap you? It was simply a case of being at the wrong place in the wrong time. But that didn’t excuse their actions following the moments they walked in that bakery with their rifles held high and their voices screaming in curses. Why did they have to kill one of the most important people in your life right in front of you? Shot her straight through the heart at the bakery around the block from the school. All because she was Jewish. Their logic didn’t explain why they had the right to take her life. Her younger siblings had been complaining about food and you had an extra food stamp to use. You’d despised the stars they had to wear on their chest that prohibited them from having the normal things every person

needs. You all had practically skipped to the bakery in hopes that they’d have chocolate. It was a nice moment thinking that everything was back to normal. She had only been 21 and you 20. That was 3 years ago. Even so long after you could still imagine the events that had occurred. Her blood had splattered all over your polka dotted yellow dress. All she had asked for was food for her siblings. Sure, sweets would have been kind but you were all hungry in general. When the soldiers had come in, they’d been attracted to her star. You should have been on guard more, but you’d been naive to think they wouldn’t harm them. One had grabbed Ciera and pushed himself against her. In her reaction she’d kicked the German away and his comrade shot her. Her siblings that had been clinging to your side as they shot her cried out for their sister as she dropped to the ground. Siblings that had their throats slit as they clung to your arms. You had begged for their lives. They were just two children. You thought they would have a little mercy. You knew you would take care of them for their sister. You tried to explain that Tommy and Cassandra had been hungry, and their sister had been killed right in front of them. The trauma they had suffered was enough for their minds to endure. All of what was happening was enough to make anyone mad. It was necessary that they cry and mourn. But as heartless as they were, they showed no remorse. That two children crying for their dead sister would never and hadn’t stopped the Germans. They’d ripped the children from your hands and pressed their silver knives to their throats killed them. You wanted to fight for them. You loved them like your own siblings. They didn’t deserve the fate that had been handed to them. The third soldier had held your arms behind your back to stop you from tearing them away. You had tried to fight him, but you knew he wouldn’t let go. You watched the blood slip from their throats, and you sagged against the soldier. He had been the kinder of the three. A recruit perhaps. You didn’t realize until later that he’d held you in his embrace throughout the car ride to the place where you’d be transported. The screams that left their mouths still haunted you and you saw their terrified faces in your dreams. Sometimes they would come together as a group. Other times Tommy would visit you with blood seeping from his throat asking you for his sisters. You blamed yourself for not fighting hard enough. You watched as the life left your eyes when you knew it should have been you. You should have been dead on the ground with them as they lay dead next to their sister on the ground. Yes, life was unfair. But if life was unfair than war was no comparison.

“Gurl!” A German soldier yells pointing his finger to a spot in front of him. Most of them could barely speak English and when they did it was so slurred. Half the times you had to watch their hand motions to understand what they wanted. His eyes are locked on you from your spot by the back of the courtyard. It was a quiet place that everyone avoided because of the sun that would beam on you. They preferred the shade, but you just needed the quiet heat to cleanse your mind. You cursed and grabbed onto the chain fence behind you to lift yourself up. It bent with your weight but you knew it wouldn’t break. It was a trashy fence that if you tried to climb, you’d either be shot down or just get so scratched that you’d just end up doing more harm than good. The fence traveled around the vast courtyard that was rundown and brown. The fence had rust in certain spots from when it rained but it never did anything for the concrete. Blood stains covered the floor from where prisoners had been shot and dragged away. There were splatters and puddles all over the already dirty floor. Even on the ground leading into your cells you’d find the lengthened blood beneath your feet. The courtyard was the only time you got to see the outside world. They also had a calendar on the wall that told you what day it was. You weren’t sure why but maybe it was to bring down the spirits of everyone. You on the other hand had been there for 3 years 2 months and 25 days. Since the beginning of the German’s invasion of France. It was made up of mock punching bags filled with paper plates and hard pillows that no dared to sleep on. People sat in cliques all around speaking in different languages. Most of them spoke French and in your time there you’d picked up bits of other languages. Nothing too major but just enough to understand.

“Ve dount ave foreevare vittle gurl.” He yelled again and you picked up your pace. You didn’t want to do anything to cause any more attention to yourself. His accent sent prickles of fear up your spine and the hairs on your arms stood on end. As you walked by a few whispers drafted into your ears and people glanced away. Being called over by a soldier wasn’t a good thing and people avoided it as much as they could. There was always the possibility of someone getting shot or having to do something you weren’t mentally or physically prepared to do. So, the terror that was filling up your mind with endless possibilities wasn’t a fun thing. Anxiety tightened the space in your chest and your throat was constricted with worry. You stopped a few steps in front of the soldier who towered over you and said nothing as his eyes trailed over your body. Once upon a time you would have blushed and shifted awkwardly where you stood but now you stand still and stare straight at the wall behind the soldier to avoid eye contact. The mic on his shoulder beeps and he holds out a finger to you. You don’t respond and continue to stare straight ahead. He responds to the German voice in his native language rapidly and you fiddle with your hands behind your back. You could feel the tension rising around the two of you and it wasn’t good. His eyes had begun to harden more, and his posture grew rigid. His eyes darted around the dirt filled courtyard until he turned around and stared at a man. He had been beat up. On his eye was a purplish hue with hints of green. You saw a small limp in his walk as you turned your head in his direction. He stopped and leaned against the fence with his arms crossed a pair of tags dangling around his neck. The green Henley he wore was matted and had spatters of dried blood. His pants hung off his body, still fitting but with tears. Looking from the outside in he looked just as bad as every other prisoner of war. He had an unreadable expression as he surveyed his surroundings. You caught a small calculating look in his eyes as he scanned people that walked by. His eyes caught yours and your breath caught in your throat. He didn’t just stare at you from afar. He seemed to bare your soul out in front of everyone to see. His gaze was intense, and a hint of curiosity was in his dark eyes. The soldier beside you muttered something into his radio and your gaze snapped away from the handsome stranger and you turned back at attention. You couldn’t get the image of him out of your mind even as the soldier gave you your new group to follow to your cells. Everyone was given a number when they were placed in the camp. Each cell was alphabetized and most of the time people didn’t even pay attention to them. They did it to give themselves a feel of control. The only one you didn’t follow. You didn’t say anything back to him and when he dismissed you, you promptly walked back to your spot. You didn’t want to turn your head in the direction of the stranger you knew was walking over to you. You wanted to disappear, and you knew the moment he talked to you your tough exterior would break. There was something different about the way his head was held high and his shoulders never slumped. You could practically feel his confidence from across the courtyard and out of your peripheral vision. You slid down the fence with a sigh as you put your head in your knees. You took a few breaths to keep yourself calm as a pair of shoes came into view. They were brown and matted and looked like they’d seen better days.

“You okay?” a voice followed. It was low and soft, but it sent shivers down your spine. You slowly raised your eyes up the body that was wearing them, and your eyes widened in surprise where the man from before stood in front of you. He’s much taller than you initially realized and his eyes a deeper brown. He stares down at you with worry and you just stared at him not knowing what to do. He was around your age and it was rare you found anyone your age and that spoke a language you could speak. Sure, there were people who spoke your language and had tried to talk to you. Soon enough they stopped coming around because staying in a group too long would strike fearing the people because they wouldn’t want the Germans thinking new company meant rebellion. He moved to your side and carefully slid down the steel fence. You stared ahead at the people who stood in the middle of the courtyard.

“So, you people watch.” The stranger says motioning to the people in front of you both. You nod without looking at him keeping a close eye on the people in front of you. Something felt wrong about the gathering. It wasn’t anything good. Someone was shoved across into another person and you heard the stranger suck in a breath. He felt the sudden shift too and he pointed a finger towards a short man in broken glasses. His eyes flipped from each side of the courtyard where the two soldiers stood. His hands were clasped together, and his feet were headed in the direction of the crowd. You nudged your elbow into your newfound companions’ arm tilting your chin up in the direction of the people. The air felt stiff in the courtyard more than normal as the crowd began to step into a circle the short man now joining them. The soldiers seemed to notice it too because their gazes were hardened, and their guns were pointed. Your heart began to pound as you knew what was coming next. It haunted you every night ever since you had seen it the day you’d been kidnapped and taken to this camp. The images of Ciera’s body falling to the ground flashes through your vision and you shake your head, feeling your heart squeeze. The screams of her siblings were in the wind you closed your eyes tight and took in a deep breath. They were screaming out orders in German, but the group paid them no mind. You couldn’t breathe. Your hands rubbed against your rugged jeans completely lost to your nightmares that were coming to life. You opened your eyes slowly and looked around to see if anyone else was witnessing what was going down. A few other small groups of people watched from afar with dead eyes, but none made a move to assist. Your eyes were locked on the German soldier directly across from you that was walking towards the group. With each footstep your breathing became faster and your mind screamed for them to heed the warnings the Germans were giving. The group was large and growing by the minute which in the eyes of your captors was a bigger threat. The German nudged one of the people in the group with his gun and what happened next you had never expected. The stringy thin man with blood hair who had been poked spun around and stabbed the soldier in the neck with a foreign object and someone screamed. His hands went to his throat and he dropped his gun. The man dove for it as the soldier fell slowly bleeding out on the concrete. Everything was chaos as the gun dropped and a single bullet escaped from its chamber. The bullet flew across the courtyard and your eyes flew with it watching it impale a single child.

“No!” you screamed bolting up from your place by the fence. The soldiers burst into action firing down anyone who had been in the huge crowd. Everyone went running towards the inside of the prison, trying to avoid the bullets. It was pure chaos as people from everywhere were getting shot as they tried to escape the rage of the soldiers. There were screams of all different languages and you heard the cry of the mother above all. Her cries for her baby filled your ears as you raced across the courtyard toward the downed child. The man followed you close behind, and you paid him no mind as you shoved through the on rush of people. People were getting into meaningless fights as they tried to get away. A man stops in front of you making a grab for your waist. A hand presses against your chest shoving you back as the stranger jumps in front of you. He throws a hard punch at the man who’d made an attempt touch and he gets knocked to the ground. You grabbed his hand and started running again. The mother’s screams in French guided you through the crowd. You felt your foot hit something before you went flying. Your hands moved out in front of you to stop the fall by instinct and on impact you hissed in pain. You had landed hard on your free hand but was yanked back up just as quickly.

“We have to go.” The man from before whispered in your ear.

“The child needs help.” You whispered back and he didn’t say a word back as he supported you on the remaining distance. The child lay on the ground holding his mother’s hand as she screamed for help. The brown-haired man set you on the floor beside the child and you immediately began ripping your jacket off your arms. You ripped the sleeves off the jacket and used the back to apply pressure to the wound. The single bullet hole was small but on the size of the boy was enough to cause a lot of damage. You quickly felt it become wet with blood and pressed down a little harder as the boy cried out in pain.

“Mon garçon, s'il vous plaît, sauvez mon garçon.”(My boy, Please save my boy) She sobbed as her eyes covered her face. Her hands were covered in his blood and your mind flashed with the memory of your own hands covered in Tommy and Cassandra’s blood. You ignored her cries but that didn’t stop you from helping her. You kept a steady push on his leg to slow the bleeding. After a few checks you eyed the wound and you couldn’t help the feel of triumph that flowed through your heart. The slow of bleeding meant you could check the wound for any other injuries it could have caused. You ripped open his pant leg and wiped the blood away to get a good look at the wound. This wasn’t the first time you’d be a medic and it wouldn’t be the last. Your father had gotten plenty of hunting wounds and you had been the one to take care of them. His leg only held one bullet hole, but his leg was so skinny it could fit in the palm of your hand. Your heart ached that this would be the childhood he remembered and not one filled with days of running in a field with his mother or being in school with his friends. He was one of the lucky ones you had to remind yourself. He was alive and you were determined to keep him that way. Your hands moved with remarkable speed as you lifted the child’s leg and looked for the exit wound of the bullet. A small hole was in the back of his leg and you wiped it clear of blood. You lifted the sleeve from earlier to your teeth and made a big enough tear that you could rip it with your bare hands. The long piece of clothing dangled between your fingertips as you examined the length. From the way the threading looked it wouldn’t hold for long, so you’d have to find a more permanent solution. But that was later and the thin cloth would do good for now.

“How can I help?” The man whispered in your ear again as your mind whirled with adrenaline. Your instincts in healing were helping you move through the steps you’d done so many times before with ease, but you couldn’t help the storm brewing in your feelings. You were enraged, scared, and so many other feelings all at once. You had gotten lost in the moment as you rushed to save the boy that lay before you. People were still running inside, and the screams had begun to slow. The courtyard was filled with sobs of families returning to their loved one’s bodies that lay dead on the floor. The blood on the ground would haunt them for the rest of their lives as the bodies were carried away by the ‘healthy’ prisoners.

“Lift his leg carefully. I need to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding.” You said softly showing him the places to place his hands. He placed his above and below the wound just as you’d asked and lifted slowly. The boy screamed in pain and the mother began to reach her hands out to stop you. You glared at her, but she ignored your attempts to stop her from distracting you. She was screaming at you in French, begging you to stop hurting her boy. You ignored her cries and curses and continued to work. Her hands were gripping yours now as she tightened them around your wrists, and you struggled to tie the knot.

“Si vous ne retirez pas vos mains, votre fils mourra!” (if you don’t pull your hands away your son will die) you snap back at her in French and her nails stop digging into your skin. She pulls away quickly but doesn’t move her eyes away from your face. You sigh in frustration as you tighten the knot around the boy’s leg. You can hear the boy crying for his maman and she’s trying to calm him but it’s no use. You grab the jacket and place it over the boys wound again and apply pressure. The mother is sobbing as she holds her sons face and you watch knowing that you can only help minimally. You motion for the man to lower his leg softly and he does. He watches you carefully as you wrap the torn jacket around his leg and tie it again in the back. The bleeding has slowed to minimal trickle, but you’ll have to find something to clean the wound to keep away infection. You sigh in relief collapsing on the back of your heels as the woman steps away from her boy and walks over to you. She offers a hand over to you and you stare at it not sure what to do. She smiles weakly and shakes her hand again. You realize she’s trying to get you to stand up and you take it willingly. She helps you stand up and as soon as you’ve got on your feet, she pulls you into a hug.

“You…help…. me Henry.” She whispers in your ear as she pulls away. There’s a new look in her eyes as she apologizes for hurting you in French. She pulls your wrists to her mouth and places small kisses over the crescent moon shaped marks. Her fingers run over them in a silent guilt and you pull away and give her a small smile. Her hand brushes your cheek leaving a trail of blood, but her eyes are locked on yours. She leans in placing a kiss on your cheek before releasing you from her embrace. She quiets quickly once you tell her that it’s alright and that you have something to tell her. You start to give her basic instructions that will keep her son alive. How to clean the wound and tell her the signs of infection. Her hands grip onto her fingers, and her eyes are eager to make sure she doesn’t miss a word. You tell her your cell keep so that if she may ever need your assistance, she can send someone. The man who helped you stands beside you as you give her these instructions nodding as you list off everything. Once you trust that she knows everything you bid her goodbye and tell her to stay safe. She doesn’t respond as she looks away from you down to her son whose hand is out reached for her. She rushes to her knees and grabs his hand and doesn’t give you another glance. You know she won’t leave him alone for a minute. The fear of losing her family wasn’t a good one and it had scarred her heart forever just as it did to you months ago. She would hold on tight to his hands and watch for any signs of sickness. She would not sleep through the night but would tell her boy that she did. She’d do anything to protect her last light in the dark world. Your eyes travel from their joined hands to the boys’ face. It’s pale, most likely from the blood loss but he smiles at you. He opens his mouth to say something, and just as quick as it opens it closes as a grimace of pain flashes over his face. You shake your head giving him a weak smile. You kneel beside his head and place a soft kiss on his sweaty forehead and murmur a good-bye. You give the mother and son a small wave before standing once more and turning on your heel to walk away. Your tail follows you as you make your rounds around the courtyard. People cry out to the two of you as you try your best to help anyone and everyone. Most people have died by the time you reach them, and you close their eyes for the dead to mourn. Some don’t accept that their loved one is dead and continue to scream their fury at your insistence. One man almost attacks you because he refuses to believe his wife was killed and the stranger has to stop him. Tears stream down your cheeks at the sight of each body that lies on the floor. There was so much blood on the court now that it was rare you saw an old patch that was dried. It runs underneath your shoes and covers each piece of cement with ease. It soaks the clothes of the people lying beside their families and friends crying their hearts out to someone who is no longer there. Their pain has become apart of you and you can feel the shock of it numb you by the time you reach the last patient. Your tears have dried up and your hands are covered in so much blood that pieces flake off when the wind blows through the courtyard. You stand beside the teenage girl that holds her arm limp as her companion stands nearby attempting to talk to you in German. You attempt to converse with him in French the only language you’d been able to learn in your months of imprisonment but it’s no use as he doesn’t understand you. The girl cries softly as you touch her arm trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Was ist mit ihr passiert?” (What happened to her?) your partner says in German earning a glance from the boy. He speaks faster now the urgency in his hand motions clear. You can’t help but watch in awe as the man who has been helping this whole time stays remarkably calm. He nods and continues to ask him questions and gives him responses without hesitation. He doesn’t interrupt when it becomes clear that the boy is in full out panic mode. You place your hand on the girls’ shoulder and she flinches away before you give her a small smile. She stared at you with a suspicious glare in her eyes, but you tapped your eyes and then pointed to her shoulder in hopes that she would understand. Her eyes are wide with understanding and she leans in closer to you. You press your fingertip towards the top of her shoulder, and you feel her flinch. Doing this a few more times as you examine her shoulder you realize it doesn’t look like the other. It’s bent at an odd angle and you curse yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Her shoulder is dislocated presumably from being trampled in the panic. I know how to put it back in place, but it’ll be a two person job so I’ll need your help...” you trail off not knowing your assistants name. He glances over his shoulder giving you a smile makes you look down at your hands tat have begun to fidget.

“Call me Bucky.” He winks but you can tell he immediately regrets it because he turns away and starts muttering something under his breath. You catch a small huff of frustration that he cuts off quickly with ‘idiot’ following in English. You chuckle a little and his eyes brighten at your show of emotion towards him. Besides the subtle nudges of worry from before the attack, it was the only one you’d shown. His whole demeanor changed then, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to the sudden beam of light. He was trying to hide his ear to ear smile as he shifted in place. You shake your head slightly and notice the two people that had been forgotten for a short moment. The man from before is quiet now as the girl talks to him in a soft voice. You motion Bucky over, and he leans down to your level.

“She needs to lie on her back. I’m going to pull it back into place.” Bucky gives you a single nod and begins talking to her in German. She stares at him in confusion but then as he explains it even more, she begins to nod her head in understanding reaching out to her boyfriend for assistance. He grabs her lifted hand and Bucky grabs her waist. Her boyfriend kneels beside her and the two exchange soft words that you don’t attempt to hear. Yes, there were things worse than what she was going through but what you were about to do wasn’t about to be as painless as she’d think. Besides the love that you could see when they looked at each other felt like you were intruding every time they looked at each other. When both men have settled, they both slowly lay her down onto her back, but your eyes don’t miss the flinch she gives once Bucky goes near her and her partner has stepped away. You slightly nudge Bucky out of the way and lightly grab her arm. You can see the gratitude in her eyes, and she tries to grab your hand most likely to thank you in the only way she knew how. You gave her a small nod and remained silent because somethings were better left unsaid. As you go through the steps you tell Bucky what you’re doing and in turn he translates. She doesn’t take her eyes off her partner the entire way as you begin to move her. Her arm is causing her a lot of pain, so your touches are featherlight. She is squeezing his hand and you take a lot of breaks to offer her some relief. Once her arm is outstretched towards you, you place your foot underneath where her shoulder is. You take a deep breath and without warning pull her arm at the same time as you push into her side. A loud pop sounds from her arm and you immediately stop pulling on her arm and let it sit on your lap. A blood curdling scream leaves her mouth and she begins to sob in pain. You can see her body shake as her free hand covers the tears that stream down her face. The three of you aren’t the only ones that heard her of course and a German soldier runs over to you all and starts yelling commands that you don’t understand. The girls companion starts responding to him much quieter than before most likely being careful with what he says. Even with the man explaining the soldier still has his eyes locked on you with a hatred you’d never seen before. It’s as if the soldier doesn’t care that you helped her and that she’d be better off in pain. You glare right back at him without a second thought before he turns his gaze away. He doesn’t respond to the boy before walking back to his post near the corner a few feet away from you. You let a breath you didn’t know you were holding in as he leaves the four of you alone on the courtyard again. You look down at the blonde girl who lies with her hair matted in blood from the concrete. She looks at you with a blank expression on her face that soon turns into gratitude. It’s not the first you’ve gotten but something about the way she put her trust in you makes your heart jump for joy. She lifts her arm into the air slowly but gives you a thumbs up, which in turn makes you laugh a little. She grins at you as you return her thumbs up right back and she looks away reaching out to her lover. He grabs her hands quickly and helps her to her feet. It’s a slow process as she slowly tries to get a handle on her pain tolerance, but eventually she stands up. She holds onto his hands to balance herself and gave her shoulder a roll. She let out a soft laugh in triumph and glanced over to where you and Bucky stood. Her eyes warm with happiness that would only last in the moment but were well deserved. She directed her eyes to Bucky and gave him a small smile as she spoke to him in German. You took the chance to finally look at the man who’d introduced himself to you. Here he was in the middle of a war willing to trust you and take care of all these people and be your assistant and he didn’t even know your name. You could tell by the hard built of his shoulders and the way his jaw tensed was because he was strong. Not in a physical way but in

a mental was as well. He could be one to give support and be just as willing to take it away. He was strong but not with many walls. He was determined but not without conscious. He was a good man. A handsome one at that you think before turning away and blushing. Here this man was helping you as a translator and you were thinking about how strong and physically built he was. You shake your head biting on your bottom lip to avoid the smile that wants to appear on your face.

“What have I got something on my face?” he jokes placing his bloody hands to his mouth. You shake your head but can’t help the small laugh that leaves your mouth. Even as a good guy who’d helped you save 20 people who were either bleeding or needed something fixing, he was a dork. The couple gives you a wave before walking off the courtyard towards the yelling Germans. It was time to go to your designated area. The cell of which you’d have to stay in until mealtime which would be in about an hour. As if on cue your stomach growls extremely loud and you place a hand over it. Usually you could hold your hunger over with some water, but it didn’t seem like there would be anything clean for a little while. The usual stream that came out of a hose was used to clean the victims’ blood away. You turned towards the hose where it had only on clean spot on the concrete. Today had been horrible and you knew there would be more days just like this to come. You still felt the ache for the people you couldn’t save and how their blood was still on your hands. You looked down at the floor and your eyes connected with the blood that covered your shoes. You felt the sudden urge to rinse it off and clean them with bleach, but you knew they would never truly leave. The stains would wash off physically, but it would stay with you forever and trap you in its horrors.

“Don’t let it scar you more than it already will.” He whispered into your ear. You didn’t have the strength for words as the day’s exhaustion hit you. You felt your knees buckle and Bucky’s arm wrapped around your waist quickly, keeping you up. All the adrenaline was dying out and you could barely keep your eyes open as he attempted to have you walk. You couldn’t though and it made your feet hurt 10 times more. You groaned and forced him to stop for a minute. You were blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out.

“I got you.” He murmured placing an arm under your knees and swooping you into the air. His arms pulled you closer to his chest and you placed a hand on your stomach. You wanted to say thank you, but the words wouldn’t come. You were burnt out of all your energy and your eyes lazily rolled over the man who was walking you across the courtyard. He looked straight ahead, and his gaze sharpened at the people who passed by. It was clear he didn’t trust the people around you. It wasn’t something anyone should ever give out willingly but the thought that he had given you such a fragile thing made your mind whirl with possibilities. You kept staring at him in wonder and you weren’t sure if it was from the lack of food and water, but you felt a sort of friendship growing with Bucky. He made you feel safe and he hadn’t abandoned you as you fell but instead, he’d picked you up. He’d let you work and hadn’t tried to take over either. Your hand gravitated towards his cheek and you held it there. Something about the action felt right and it comforted you. From what you saw it had the same effect on him. He looked down at you with a sincerity in his eyes and a small smile formed on his lips. It warmed your heart that you were able to get that reaction from him after such a long day and you couldn’t stop the smile you returned. He looked up and his gaze sharpened once more but there was something else displayed across his face. It was more lie… astonishment. You turned your head in confusion to see what had made him look such a way and you let out a small gasp. The area around the only source of water wasn’t crowded like it had been when you’d glanced at it. The people had made two lines directly to the water hose. You recognized these people as the ones you’d helped. Men and women who’d lost their loved ones and had found some broken but ready to be helped had stepped aside so that you could get some water.

“No.” you croaked nudging Bucky. You needed them to know you weren’t any special. You weren’t some savior. You’d been able to save them, but you couldn’t save your best friend and her siblings. That their ghosts still haunted you in the depths of the night. You began to squirm in his arms your energy suddenly making its way back into your body. He glanced down at you as you struggled to get down. He lowered your legs and planted them on the floor without a word, but his arm didn’t leave your waist. You were glad because if it weren’t for the support you were sure to fall. You pointed to the hose and Bucky nodded and began walking the two of you towards it. The area was clear as the people watched you from the sides. You could feel your terror rising as you looked to the guards that watched from afar. Your heart was beginning to pound with anxiety. You didn’t want another shoot out. Too many people had died already, and you wouldn’t let any more die. You urged Bucky forward and soon you reached the front to where the boy, Henry stands as his mother washes his wound. He looks up at you and gives you a small wave and begins tapping his mother. She looks up from her action with a look of annoyance, but it vanishes the minute she notices you. Her gaze softens and she smiles urging you forward. You kneeled beside them and murmured a silent hello as Henry proudly held back the torn-up pant leg. He was telling his maman in French about how he would be a strong boy and protect them both from harm. She said nothing but only let a smile and a few laughs through her tough exterior as she let you inspect the wound. There never was a lot of talking in the prison except for the quiet whispers between the terrified families. People weren’t the chatty types when they’d be kidnapped out of their homes and forced away from their families. You shook your head as images of Jews being thrown out into the street and onto a bus in your hometown flashes across your mind. Just like you couldn’t save Ciera and her siblings you couldn’t even save them. But you could save these people. Some part of you hoped that you could help push the everlasting guilt away, but you knew you would always feel that pain. So, you internalized it and turned to the wound on the boys’ leg again. The flesh surrounding the wound looked clean which was already a very good sign. You checked along his leg for any red lines that would travel up. It was a common sign of blood poisoning but seeing as he had none you knew he would be alright for the time being. If there were any of the blood red veins trailing along his pale skin, it would be a sign of infection and with no antibiotics would be the death of him. She pulls the pant leg away from the boy at your request because he dances away from your touch. He giggles because your touch is warm against his cold skin and you smile at her and her boy. Giving her the good news is probably a moment you’ll never forget as she wraps her arm around her son tightly. You can tell from the way she’s beaming at being able to stay with her son for more time means that in some way they’ll get through this together. It makes your heart jump for joy and you can’t help but let the happiness consume you. The mother hands her son to Bucky and he kneels on a rock nearby holding the child. At one point while the mother washes a wound you catch Bucky letting the boy squeeze his cheeks and pull at them every which way. He doesn’t let this stop him from tickling the boy and the sight is so pure that you’re smiling for the rest of the time. More and more patients leave to go towards their cells after you give them direct instructions. They all come to the water and you and the mother wash out their wounds and they walk away. It’s a process that soon you start to do without realizing how many people you’ve helped. Some were far worse than her son with multiple wounds that fill with blood at the touch. It takes a lot to break a person and seeing multiple scrapes and bullet wounds would make anyone sick. After about the 15th person she ran away to throw

up because of the smell of cooking flesh from the sun above. Bucky immediately took her place in helping you clean the wounds. You looked over at the woman in concern but found her son rubbing her back as they sat on the concrete holding each other. You felt for her because this scenario was nothing good or that pleasing to see. Knowing all these people were hurting and that the men who guarded you all watched from afar and refused to help was making you feel 20 shades of green. You wanted to just react at them. To hurt the people who were hurting all these innocents. You despised them and with each wound that began receiving care by your hands the hatred began growing bigger and bigger.

“Neutralize your expression. Showing you’re angry will upset the Nazis even more.” Bucky’s hushed voice interrupted your thoughts. You lift your eyes to meet his as you turn the faucet off and dab at the patient’s jacket to dry his wound. The confusion you felt must have been visible on your face because his eyebrows raise as his head jerks to his right. Your eyes slowly follow the trail to where a German soldier stands with his gun in his hands. His eyes stare directly at your actions as if you were a criminal about to attack.

“They’ve been watching the entire time. Through the cameras in the corners. They have orders to let us be but to shoot if they see anything wrong.” You immediately drop your expression and place a blank look on your face. Bucky’s nod confirms that your expression is fine and you both help the man who’d been stabbed on the right side of his chest. The panic of knowing you were being watched never quite faded so you dived deeper into doing whatever you could for the people’s wounds. He’d been lucky for the knife to not puncture his lung because if that had happened his lungs would have filled with blood and he would end up choking on his own blood. If that had been the case, there would have been nothing for you to do at least long term. You were slowly coming to realize that all those trips spent in the library studying the multiple medical books were coming to work out in your favor. Bucky calls out the information in which you’ve told him to tell the girl who accompanies the man. She nods vigorously before grabbing his hand and helping him walk over to the opening that leads to the cells where you all would be holed up. The prison inside of the prison. How ironic. You call out for the next person to step forward but are met with silence. You look to the previous line to be met with open space.

“Come here.” He urges. He’s kneeling in front of you from where you sit on the high-rise rock. You ignore the outreach of his bloody hand and you walk around him. He sighs as you reach down to the faucet. The cold water greets your fingertips and you don’t move away from it. Bucky taps your shoulder and you turn around to see what he needs. He’s staring at you like you’re the smallest child in the playground and that if you don’t listen, he’ll throw you in time out. He points to his raised knee and you scoff shaking your head.

“Either you do it willingly or I force you.” You shake your head again and he groans throwing his head back in mock pain. You giggle and lean forward to reach the faucet again but you’re swiped off your feet as hands grip your waist tightly. He sits you on his lap and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from falling. You whip your head around to glare at him because you’re certain he’s a mad man and he grins leaning towards the faucet. You let out a squeal and you grip his knees as he shifts back on the rock sitting you square between his legs. You know you look beyond pissed because he avoids your eyes. He’s still grinning though at your reaction as his hands release your waist and reach towards the faucet. You move your hands away quickly and lean forward with him, eager to get the remaining blood off your skin. Bucky turns the faucet to the left and water starts spilling from it. He tuts when your hands almost touch the water and he grabs your wrists. The interaction makes your skin tingle and interlocks your fingers with his. In that moment you feel the firs spread throughout your body. Everywhere he touches you sends a different burn straight to your heart. His chest presses against your back as he washes the blood off both of your hands. When he breathes you can feel it hit your ear and it makes the hair on your skin rise. His hands caress yours as they wash 30 or more people’s blood off. His fingers slide into between yours with ease that you watch in awe as your hands become yours again. Except with his hands on yours you aren’t exactly sure where he begins and where you stop. Funny thing is, you don’t ever want to figure it out. His fingers brush over yours and they move away too soon. Before you can grasp what you’re doing you grab his hands and start the same movements. You slide your fingers against his long ones and watch as they become his just as yours were yours. You hear Bucky’s breathing grow uneven and you look over your shoulder to see what’s wrong. His eyes immediately lock on yours and you can see something that you’d never seen on his face before. You can’t read it, but you know it’s something he tries to hide because his face becomes black once more and his hands move away from yours. You gasp softly at the loss of contact and swallow the complaint that tries to force its way out. The moment has disappeared, and you can feel the slight tinge of embarrassment floating its way through your senses. You wipe your hands on your pants and the sight of you and Bucky’s hands together burns itself into your mind. You know it shouldn’t be there, but your heart holds it close and locks it away for safe keeping.

“You ready?” he whispers. His hand lays on your stomach which does a flop at the sight of it and you nod not sure if you could even get through a full sentence without stuttering. You stand up and take a step away from him. You were trying to get a grasp on your emotions but the only thing you could focus on was how his scent no longer surrounded you. Your legs wobble as you try to walk but your knees give out. Bucky grabs your hand and pulls it around his neck.

“I don’t think I can walk.” You whisper. He doesn’t respond at first but you can tell he’s debating what to do.

“Hop on my back. I’ll carry you.” You nod slowly as you walk behind him and grab onto his shoulders. His hands wrap around your thighs and he pushes you up in the air. You jump and let your legs fall around his waist and let your arms hang loose over his shoulders. His figure shakes a little as he tries to steady you and start his long walk towards the open steel doors. You place your chin on his shoulder and let out a small sigh.

“My knight in shining armor.” You tease half heartedly and he laughs. The sound warms your bones more than anything else could and you don’t catch the small smile that spreads across his face as he starts walking towards the yelling Germans. It’s time for everyone to go back to their cells and if told once more there would be consequences. Your arms become heavy and feel like blobs of jello as they swing. You can feel yourself absentmindly snuggling into the warmth of the man carrying you, but it doesn’t register as your senses begin shutting down. You blink a few times as you stared down at the dog tags that swung on top of the green Henley that adorned Bucky’s chest. The faint sunlight disappears as he enters the prisoner compound and the room becomes dark. You lift your head up as shouts erupt around you. You catch people clapping and you have the urge to tell them to stop. Drawing attention of the soldiers wasn’t a good idea because they had just witnessed what happens when you cause a ruckus. You bury your head back into Bucky’s neck as you silently wish for the cries of joy to stop. Despite all the good you’d done you still couldn’t get over all the good you could have done so many years ago. Bucky senses your discomfort and starts to walk a little faster than before.

“Get some rest. You look like you could use it.” He says softly as a metal door creaks and it gets held open for the two of you. You nod slowly feeling your eyes shut again. You listen to him this time and let the exhaustion finally take over your body.

Tagging some peeps~@randomfangirl82 @stucky-my-ship @jules-1999 @starkssnarks @dallaswinstonswife1109@notsosecretspy @kyn-lyn-blog @alltoowell-taylorsversion@creecree-4-life

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starrywolf101 · 4 years ago

Note

For the zombieinnit thing what about different people finding out how fragile Tommy is

The 5 Times Tommy Gets Hurt

(+1 he gets protected)

1 - Jack Manifold

He had a brief interaction with Manifold on the day he left the prison, but he was still reeling and not truly listening to anything Jack said. That day was more of a blur than anything.

But now here he was, wanting Jack to stop rebranding the hotel. It was only a couple weeks since the last time he'd seen the other, but by now he's made more strides in recovering. Nobody but Puffy, Sam, Tubbo, Ranboo, and Michael knew about his zombie status yet.

Currently Jack Manifold and him were locked in a glaring content, both of his eyes locked onto the other's heterochromic eyes.

"Look, Jack, you can keep managing it and everything, but I really need you to remember that it's my property. Not yours, you arse."

Apparantly not liking that answer, Jack sneers and shoves Tommy. Freezing up in fear, Tommy doesn't even trying to defend himself from the attack. He loses his balance and falls to the ground, skull hitting the floor with a sickening crack. Regret flairs through Jack's veins as he immediately drops to his knees to check over the kid. Tommy's eyes are glazed over as he stares blankly up. His mind is replaying the moment he died over and over again, when his skull was slammed into the obsidian floor. Back in the present, Jack calls Sam Nook for help, the robot had been standing outside the hotel as per usual. He didn't actually want Tommy dead... again,,

When the robot had started helping Tommy, the kid's new... symptoms having been recorded into It's database, Jack had nearly puked. The back of Tommy's head, where he had hit the ground, looked rotted, and... ew was that Tommy's brain??? How was the kid still awake!?

He watches in shock as Sam Nook pours a potion of harming onto Tommy's injury, nearly jumping in to stop the robot, before watching with widened eyes as the wound healed...

"YOU WILL SPEAK NOTHING OF THIS JACK MANIFOLD."

Jack had nodded silently and fled the scene. There was so much to process...

2 - Sapnap

Sapnap and Tommy have always had a... complicated relationship. Sometimes they got along, and other times they were against each other. But since Dream had cut all attachments, Tommy had shown sympathy and reached out an olive branch to the other, and Sapnap had taken it. They still don't always get along perfectly, but its back to how it used to be... playful teasing and pranks!

But since the kid had left the prison, he's been... quieter. Seeing Tommy so quiet felt wrong.

In fact, he rarely saw the kid nowadays.

Having been looking for an excuse to see the teen, Sapnap had found the perfect thing. By a river, he'd found a rock that, if you squinted, it was shaped like a dick. Surely Tommy would get a kick out of this!

Approaching the dirt shack, gift in his pocket, Sapnap had a slight skip in step. He knocks on the door and called out for the boy.

"Tooommmyy! Are you home?"

A crash inside the home was worrying, but a quiet groan of pain set off alarm bells. Without another thought, Sapnap tries the doorknob— surprisingly the door was unlocked. Did this kid want to be stolen from??? Shaking off the stray thoughts, once again focused on the task at hand, he opens the door and enters. A light on downstairs leads Sapnap into a storage room with Tommy sitting curled up in the corner.

A rancid smell hits his nostrils and he scrunches his nose. An odor that was familiar to the awful smell of meat having gone bad.

Walking up to the teen, Tommy stared back at him with large, scared eyes. He was cradling his hand close to his chest, hiding it from view. And now that he was closer, something in the back of his mind registered that the smell was coming from the kid.

"Hey Tommy," Sapnap's voice took on a softness usually reserved for his close friends and his fiances. "Wanna tell me what happened so I can help?"

After a moment of Tommy examining his facial expression, he must've realize Sapnap meant no harm, and hesitantly holds his hand out. What Sapnap sees makes him want to vomit. Across Tommy's palm was a huge cut, but it was green and purple... the muscles torn and bone glimpseable .

Frowning, Sapnap mumbles: "Oh, kid... Here, I have a regen pot on me–"

"NO" Tommy's panicked shout cuts him off mid-sentence. "I– I mean," the kid gets quiet and nervous. "Use the one from my chest...: He shakily points towards the single chest across the room with his good hand.

Shaking off the shock, Sapnal roots through the chest and pulls out a bottle ful of a sickly potion... upon realizing what kind of potion it was, the cogs in his head turn. Rancid smell, rotted wound, potion of harming... Tommy was undead.

Sapnap scoots back over to Tommy, gently taking hold of the kid's wrist as to avoid spilling the potion on himself, and pours a generous amount of the viscous liquid onto Tommy's injury. The kid winces, but neither miss the twin looks of relief on their faces as the wound knits itself closed.

Seeing that Tommy was still clearly in a bad mental space, he remember the gift in his pocket. Pulling it out and handing it to the other, Sapnap smiles as he simy says: "I got you a dick rock."

Tommy's surprised, burst laugh was like music to his ears.

3 - Ghostbur

Ghostbur didn't understand what Tommy meant when he said he'd died. Tommy couldn't die, right...? No, his little brother was a survivor!

There was no way he had talked to Alivebur... but that look in Tommy's eyes... there was no way to fake that.

All the evidence kept piling up, and though he forgot some of it, some things never left his mind anymore. The way Tommy would get scared of taking damage, the way touch repulsed him... Tommy was also a lot quieter nowadays.

It was a nice day in Snowchester when it Ghostbur was confronted with the awful truth.

He had been visiting the small community when he spotted Tommy huddled up inside Tubbo's house. Obviously, he wondered why his little brother wasn't outside playing in the snow, so he goes to investigate.

"Tommy!" His raspy voice calls out cheerfully upon entering the cozy home. "Tommy what are you doing inside?"

He misses the way Tommy flinches, the terrified look in the youngest's eyes. Maybe Wilbur would've spotted it immediately, but Ghostbur wasn't him. He only saw the forced smile that covered it up, mistaking it for genuine happiness.

Tommy opens his mouth to respond, but he hesitated too long. Ghostbur was already talking again, excitedly bouncing in place. "I saw the snow outside and I remember how we used to have snowball fights when you were itty bitty, and it must've been a long time ago because now you're all tall and gangly! So I was thinking to myself, 'hmm, Tommy had been so sad lately! You know what would cheer him up? A snowball fight!' Except I can't touch the snow or else I'll melt so I thought we could go find Tubbo to play with!" It was a good thing Ghostbur didn't need to breathe anymore, because that whole rant would've taken a lot of air. Before Tommy could even finish processing all of that, Ghostbur grabs his wrist and starts tugging.

The unexpected contact send Tommy reeling, memories of a time when Wilbur would drag Tommy by the wrist, grip tight and unrelenting as the kid kicked and screamed. Times in the dark, cold ravine where nobody else could hear him plead for help. That morphed into when Dream started to doing the same thing during exile. Dream and Wilbur were interchangeable, their voices of anger and disappointment morphing into one. Adrenaline kicking in, Tommy starts shouting out for help, thrashing in Ghostbur's loose grip and causing the ghost to let go in surprise.

Luckily, Ranboo was close by and appeared inside the house. His teleportation ability kicking in without him realizing. He's quick to Tommy's side as the ghost watches on in horror. Quiet, comforting vwoops leave Ranboo's chest, and Tommy unconsciously curls closer to the source of familiar comfort. Once the majority of the panic was over, Tommy looks at Ranboo, eyes locked onto his tie. "Ra' boo?" The youngest slurs out tiredly.

"Hey, Tommy, you're safe. You're in Snowchester, with Tubbo and me."

Tommy simply nodded and closed his eyes, slumping over. The air is still for a moment, a tense quiet fills the walls of the house.

"Is... is he okay...?" Ghostbur finally speaks up.

"Honestly? Not really..." Ranboo answers, turning to look at the ghost, but never quite making eye-contact. "But he'll be better when he wakes up. Panic attacks are exhausting, especially for him nowadays.."

When Ranboo picks Tommy up, the red and white shirt rides up on his side a little, giving Ghostbur a good look at a nasty wound. Flesh eaten away to reveal the muscle underneath. Already feeling himself forgetting, Ghostbur watches the two teens leave the room.

4 - Philza

It had been awhile since he'd seen Tommy. Last time had been when he'd shown up to help Ranboo move. After the eyepatch incident, the base had been wrapped in a tense silence. Ranboo left for a few days afterwards, though Techno and Phil couldn't blame him. He did come back, but nobody spoke of what happened.

So, Phil hadn't been ready to run into Tommy in the Nether. He had just been on his way towards the larger SMP when he saw the kid sitting on a path, legs dangling off the side as he stared into the lava below. That sight set off so many alarm bells, and it took everything in Phil not to yank the kid back from the edge.

"What are you doing out here, mate?" Phil calls out, wings ruffling nervously on his back. He kept his voice and expression calm.

Tommy flinches, but his posture quickly relaxes again as he turns to look at Phil, his empty socket uncovered. Phil has to force himself to not stare at it. "Oh, its you." There was an apathetic tone to Tommy's voice that rubbed him wrong. Tommy was one of the most expressive people he'd ever met, and to hear him so emotionless...

Contrary to popular belief, he was not Tommy's dad. He hadn't even met the kid until his son, Wilbur, had gotten attached. But that Tommy was very different from the one he's looking at now. What had caused this change?

"You just gonna keep fucking staring at me like I'm some circus freak, or are you gonna sit down already?" Tommy pulls Phil out of his thoughts, causing the man to blink in confusion. He accepts the offer before the teen catching his mind— sitting cross-legged on the path beside Tommy, but not too close. They sit in silence for a bit, listening to the songs of the Nether. Piglins and Zombie Piglins oink and snort, there's a distant cry of a Ghast, and even the lava is bubbling to its own tune. Every now and then, Phil catches himself staring at Tommy, forcing himself to look elsewhere when he does. Tommy catches on, "I know I'm handsome and all, but staring is considered rude, bitch. Thought someone as old as you would know that," there's a hint of teasing in his tone.

Embarrassment floods his veins, causing Phil's wings to poof a bit, but he could blame it on the heat. "Erm– Sorry, mate... just caught up in my own head, I guess,"

Tommy rolls his eye and makes direct eye-contact with Phil. "I don't want your pity. I don't care for your thoughts. If you have questions, ask them now, cause you might never get another opportunity."

Phil swallows heavily and looks away. A lot of questions raced through his mind, but only one stuck:

"Did you talk to Wilbur?"

The teen grimaced, and that was an answer all in itself. "Yeah, asshole talked about solitare for months straight, would not shut up about the stupid game."

Oh... that hadn't been the answer he was expecting.

"And then continued to want to destroy the entirety of the SMP. He's acting crazier than before, but I guess I would too if I sat in a void for nine years too."

He remembers reading something about the time difference between death and life... back when he was still researching revival. Moving on from his question about Wilbur, he then asks: "How have you been doing?"

Tommy simply shrugs. "Usually? I'm either knee deep in flashbacks, or I'm aware enough to stumble about. Today? Can't feel a thing– 'm hollow. That's why I don't care about the questions,, I literally can't."

His heart breaks as he listens to Tommy's words, here is a kid so beat down and ruined by the world. To the point where he's gone numb. Not sure what else to do, Phil pulls Tommy into a hug, wrapping his wings around them. "I'm sorry."

Still for just a moment, Tommy slowly leans into the embrace, "Yeah.. me too."

5 - Puffy

Captain Puffy prides herself on being there for her friends. For trying for those she loves. Learning that she didn't try hard enough for Tommy left her broken.

And then, by some miracle, he was back. But... not as he was. In fact, the trauma he's lived (and died) through seems to have shut the once lively boy down.

She finds him hesitating outside her therapy office, or therapuffy as she calls it, fiddling with his torn and bloodied shirt. She mentally noted that he needs a new wardrobe.

"Hey, Tommy! What's up, my dude?" She keeps her voice soft and upbeat, not wanting to scare him away. "Did you need something?"

She internally frowns at the way he shies away from her, even though she's not anywhere near enough to initiate contact. Even stranger is how he doesn't fully turn to face her, half his face obscured from view. Still, she doesn't show she noticed it, and continues to smile warmly. Here was a duckling who was afraid of opening back up, but desperately in need of that love and affirmation he deserves. But she has to wait for him to come to her.

Realizing that maybe he wouldn't start anything on his own, she starts up the conversation. "Did you hear about the latest prank on Bad?" She asks. When Tommy shakes his head, the corner of her lip quirks up in amusement as she continues. "Somebody put a bunch of swear words all over his house!" That gets a chuckle out of Tommy.

They sit in silence after that, though its not awkward. It feels more like Tommy is internally debating on what to say, and Puffy didn't want to distract him. After a minute, with his voice uncharacteristically quiet, he asks: "Do you have any potions...?"

"Yeah! I've got some in storage," She hums. "Do you wanna come with me to get some?"

He hesitantly nods before turning his body to fully face her. That's when she saw it. His cheek in the left side of his face was rotted away, revealing teeth and gums. Nausea twisted in her gut, but still somehow remains calm. Instead of even referencing the gruesome sight, she simply smiles and holds out her hand. Seeming to get the message, Tommy places his hand in hers. She leads him down to where she kept most of her stuff, and sits him down on a spare surface– the place being an empty chest just sitting out.

"What kind of potion you need?" She asks, not wanting to assume and end up messing up.

"...Harming,"

Humming, Puffy digs around for a minute before successfully retrieving a potion of harming. It was a drinking one, surprisingly enough. Usually she just turned all of those into splash pots. Pulling on a pair of gloves and dousing a spare rag in the viscous liquid. Carefully holding up the soaked rag to his face, she hovers just above the rotting flesh and asks: "May I?"

Tommy nods and she presses the cloth to his cheek. She can feel the flesh knit itself back together under the cloth. Once she was sure it was healed, she hands whats left of the potion over for Tommy to drink. That'll fix up any internal damages he was possibly dealing with.

He grimaces as he accepts the bottle, "It always tastes like that shit nasty medicine i took as a kid.." he grumbles before throwing his head back to gulp the potion down as quickly as possible. Her inner pirate from days long gone idly thinks that Tommy would he good at putting down shots.

He soon leaves after that, not a word from either of them. Puffy silently promises to look out for the kid.

+1 - Techno

Tommy was being chased down by Bad and Ant again... though they were quickly gaining on him. Since coming back from the dead, Tommy's had very poor stamina, and he's not sure if its a zombie thing or him being very unhealthy thing. Being skin and bones, unhealthy underweight, would definitely affect him,, but he just couldn't seem to put any of the weight back on now.

The Egg cult must've been especially focused on him, bevause they were still chasing him, and Tommy was stumbling through a snow biome... Deja vu much?

Panting, Tommy can only hear the blood rushing in his ears, his heavy breathing, and the crunching of snow.

There's a light in the distance, though! And a very familiar cabin. Alarms blared in his head, his traitorous brain reminding him that he wasn't welcome here anymore. He didn't have much time to think, though, because his foot gets stuck in a snowdrift, causing him to collapse into the cold, frozen ground. The snow cushions his fall, though he definitely feels his foot pop off from his ankle.

"Well well well, looks like its the end of the road, Tommyinnit... again." Bad mocks in a chilling voice– it was a hollow sort of joy, a mimic of how warm Bad's voice used to be. He watches as Ant picks up the detached foot, frozen still with fear. "Any last words, Tommy?"

He squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for his swift end... knowing that Bad was lifting up an axe to swing. Only for it to never come. Instead a clank of metal on metal, and a familiar monotone voice.

"You see, I can't let you do that. You're all on my land, and I'd hate for the snow to stain red."

Peaking open an eye, he's in awe of the sight before him. Technoblade was standing in front of him, his axe having blocked the strike. Bad and Ant look at each other, nod, and back off. It was obvious that going against The Blade was a losing battle. Ant drops the foot into the snow as the two retreat.

Techno puts away his weapon and crouches down to pick up the foot. "What are you doing here, Theseus?" Techno didn't turn towards him.

"Give it back." Tommy ignores the question, putting up his wall. "That's mine, you arse."

"What do you mean its yours? Whose foot is this anyways–" Techno's words cut off as he turns to face Tommy, finally taking in the kid's appearance.

Tommy wasn't wearing his eyepatch, but thats not what caught his attention. It was the lack of a foot attached to his body. Quickly realizing why Tommy was demanding back the foot, he hands it over to the kid, watching in morbid fascination as he pops it right back onto his leg and rolling his ankle. The voices were all screaming different things,and he couldn't make sense of what they were saying.

"So... uh, the weird egg people were chasing you?"

Techno sucked at small talk, but he honestly didn't know what to say as Tommy stood up and brushed the snow off himself. "I'm immune and shit— well I was before the uh, prison visit. But I think I'm still immune."

"Ah,"

...

"Uh, I'm gonna go back home.." Tommy points towards the Nether Portal. "Thank you for saving me, or whatever.."

"Yeah.. yeah,"

...

"I'm just... gonna go."

Techno watches as Tommy starts to head off, slowly crunching through the snow.

He didn't know what terms he was on with the kid, but it didn't seem nearly as hostile as before. It probably wouldn't hurt anything if he started to watch out for Tommy from the shadows..

[Masterpost]

---

Okay its done, I've been working on this for ages! I also didn't go back and read it, and most of this was written while I was exhausted, so there's that

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kiuda · 3 years ago

Note

endchasers au. Despite no charges being placed on the SMP they still are treated as outcasts. Scott even bans them from MCC telling them that while Dream did bad thing they aren't good either. He'll only let them join when they apologies to Dream and their Admin forgives them for everything they on his server. Until then they have to watch at home. Bonus if Scott is a Admin so he sympathizes with Dream but doesn't excuses his actions.

Oooooooh! Interesting idea Anon!

/rp

Scott is not happy with them. Even more - he looks furious. Noxite and the other present Admins like Captain Sparkles, Iskall and Xisuma don't look happy either.

"You did what exactly?!" asks or rather shouts Scott. Quackity is still not sure what the big deal is so he says such.

"You don't- What do you mean you don't understand why we are angry?! You tortured a person Quackity!"

"Yeah I did. And?" he is still calm, trying to asses the situation. The other dsmp members have already went through the same questioning. They all looked a bit sick afterwards, but Quackity knows better. Dream deserved everything that happened to him.

"And?! And?! Is that not enough?!"

"Scott, you have to understand - he is a monster. We needed to take action. And we did."

"Taking action would be sending him to therapy! Or forcing him to right his wrongs! Not torture and isolation!" Scott yells again, throwing down some photos of the prisoner and the cell. The most common colour on all of the photos is unsurprisingly red.

"You weren't there! He was far too gone! We had to protect ourselves!" Quackity had enough. How dare they. How dare they tell him what's right and wrong. How dare they assume they knew anything about what they went through. "It was us or him! He abused Tommy Scott! He killed a lot of people! He destroyed homes!"

Scott looks at him with a bit softer look. "I understand that. But torturing a person is not the answer here."

"It is! We were fine with him gone! Everything was better!"

"Was it Quackity? Was it really?" Noxite speaks up for the first time. "I remember seeing you win MCC with Dream. I understand he was already in prison back then." At Quackity's nod he continues. "He was scared. Looked like a shell of a human. And your team or any other team fron your server wasn't looking any better. You were all stressed. You weren't happy. But you know that already, don't you?"

Quackity stills. A deep, very well hidden part of him agrees. He understands that what he did was unforgivable. He knows that no one deserved what Dream went through. But another part is still angry. Angry at Illumina for causing the whole situation. Angry at Dream for everything. Angry at the Admins for trying to lecture him. He chooses to say nothing.

Scott sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair in distress.

"Okay. Here is what we are going to do. You are all banned from MCC for now. Don't!" he puts a finger up, stopping Quackity from protesting. "You are all going to be banned. At least until we find Dream and can get his side of the story as well. Maybe and only maybe after that we can talk about letting you all back in."

The dismissal in his voice is clear, so Quackity stands up slowly, feeling his legs shake a little.

"And Quackity?" says Scott again, right before he walks out of the room. "Don't you dare skip any of the therapy sessions. And remember the rules: you stay on your servers until you are deemed ready to live in a normal society again. Good luck."

#ask #anon #thank you so much for the ask!! <3 #man you all anons are out for blood from the other members! haha #the punishment will come after they understand their wrongs ^^#endchasers au #writing!

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shutupanakin · 3 years ago

Text

Wasting Your Time Ch.3

“Wh— what?” Tommy choked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of use all day.

The man rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t just ask a completely impolite question. “I said, do you have any booze?”

Tommy sat still. He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand finding only a plastic pen. Could he stab this man with a plastic pen?

Tommy pulled said piece of plastic out, visibly holding it up. “I have a pen.” Something about the bemused look on the man's face made Tommy click it, and again, repeatedly.

click click click click click click click click—

...

or; Tommy planned on dying. He meets Wilbur instead.

Chapter Summary: Tommy is wrong. Wilbur tries to teach him color theory.

cw for suicidal ideation

Tommy was not proven right.

In better words, his thesis, his argument, it was wrong. He was wrong, okay? He could admit that! He was wrong and Wilbur was right. Wilbur, him, and his stupid antithesis. Wilbur got the good grade, Wilbur got the pat on the shoulder from the teacher. Tommy got credit for participation. Tommy got a pity smile and a gold star sticker and a ‘good job! You tried!’

Tommy should be happy. He is happy! He talked to Tubbo and Ranboo. After they were all done with classes on Friday, because Tommy had waited that long— he talked, and they listened! They did!

“ Would you guys be happier if I— I don’t know. Stop hanging around you, or something?” He was picking at the thread, pulling it so tight he could feel it move the inside of his sleeve.

The answer he got? They said no. Ranboo was quiet, letting Tubbo babble. Then Ranboo would reword what Tubbo said, more coherently. And Tommy resisted his urge to just scream, because that was their dynamic. Of course it was! Tubbo was the controlled forest fire and Ranboo was damage control.

What Tommy did not expect was when he had pointed that out, his friends didn’t let him burn out like he thought they would. Tommy wasn’t the tree burning up, Tommy was the water that Ranboo was using to put it out.

They had hung out at Ranboo’s all weekend, after that. Sam was busy and couldn’t handle the noise, Tubbo’s dad worked nights and refused to leave the house to them alone. Ranboo’s cousin was cool about it, thank god. The guys' friends were fucking awesome, Tommy thought. The shorter American was telling him about Molotov Cocktails and one with the stupid fucking glasses tried to teach him and Tubbo some clutch in Minecraft.

Tommy wasn’t afraid to admit that he lost.

The train, as it always does, stops in front of him. Tommy didn’t hesitate this time, grabbing his seat at the back. There might have been more of a skip in steps this time, but no one he knew was there to point it out. The woman at the front promptly ignored him. He sat down, hands tucked firmly in his jacket pockets.

He did not doubt that Wilbur would show up this time. The man himself had indicated that he’d love being proven right. Tommy was willing to let him take this, to take this ego boost. Tommy knew when to admit that he was wrong— he was, okay?

“I like your pin.” Ranboo’s cousin said, passing him a coke from the fridge. “Smile. Nice.”

Tubbo looked at him, his eyes settled on Tommy’s jacket. He reached out, fabric gripping up in his hand. His thumb ran over the yellow and black pin. “Bee.” Tubbo tilted his head. “When did you get this?”

“Oh. Uh.” Tommy stuttered. “Uhm. Two weeks ago! There’s this cool shop a bit out that sells them.”

Tommy fiddled with the bee, adjusting the diagonal position it had fallen into. He didn’t tell Tubbo or Ranboo about Wilbur— he didn’t know how to explain it. How to explain him. He didn’t want to tell them what had led him to go to the train station in the middle of the night. That was a conversation that Tommy was simply not ready for, yet.

Wilbur was also eerie, and he was sure that only Tommy himself could deal with his weirdness for a whole night. He would probably psychoanalyze Tubbo and make him cry, or monologue to Ranboo and give him a breakdown. He’d keep them separated for a bit, Tommy decided.

When they pulled into their next stop, Tommy didn’t shut his eyes this time. He watched Wilbur come into view through the window. Wilbur entered swiftly, following behind a man that nabbed a seat in the front.

“Hello, fellow science experiment,” Wilbur grinned, placing himself down opposite Tommy. “I assume it went well?”

If Tommy was in a worse mood he would curse him out. “I’ll have you know, it went exceptionally well, Mr. Soot. I even walked here with a bit of pep in my step. I did that! Not you!”

“Of course you did, they were your words, I just gave you a motive.” Wilbur hummed.

Tommy scowled. There it was. “You’re a prick,”

“A correct prick.” Wilbur said. “So your friends took it well then?”

Tommy hesitated. “Well. You could say that? They’re trying, now. They’re listening. I’m not just hitting the pavement anymore. But we’re talking! And we spent the whole weekend at Ranboo’s!”

“So you are getting somewhere,” Wilbur concluded. Tommy nodded.

“It— it’s nice enjoying myself, hanging out with them. Ya know? Like it’s not a chore. It’s easy. I don’t have to zone out to be around them.”

They stopped. No one got on, the man remained at the front.

When Tommy was around them, he would have to do that. Zone out. Sometimes it wasn’t on purpose, other times he just found himself begging to just go, anywhere else, but he was too aware to go away, their voices were too loud and the air was too cold and Tommy couldn’t fucking breathe—

He didn’t feel that way all weekend.

Tommy didn’t feel trapped. He was in the present. He was in the present and he was happy. If not just for a few moments, Tommy was okay and he didn’t have to think about anything else.

“So it worked,” Tommy said. “It did! We’re working on it; this weekend was fucking great though. I know how to make a Molotov Cocktail now—“

“You what —“

“I didn’t actually make one,” Tommy emphasized. “I was just taught how! It’s quite easy actually! Ranboos' cousin, one of his friends just... it was a lot of vandalism advice.”

Wilbur groaned. “Please do not get arrested for vandalism. You need better influences.”

“You’re a bad influence,” Tommy waved him off. “don’t worry big man. Can’t come to see you if I’m arrested. Sam would also kill me. In cold blood. Dead, I would be dead as fuck, man.”

If Sam had to bail him out for something as stupid as setting something on fire, he would be so fucked. Oh, Sam was so fucking overbearing when he was paying attention, he would never hang out with Ranboo again. Or Tubbo for that matter. Sam would deadbolt his door closed. Tommy would never see the sun again. Screw prison, Sam would lock him up himself.

Tommy will not be doing that, thank you. If anyone offered to help him burn something down, he would certainly not be taking it.

They stopped. A woman got on, the clanking of her jewelry as she sat down echoing in Tommy’s ears.

“How am I a bad influence?” Wilbur enquired.

“HAH!” Tommy blurted. “Look at me! Mr. Soot! I go on trains in the middle of the night! I gamble with teenagers. I am suuuuuuch a good role model.”

“I do not gamble with teenagers!” Wilbur cried. “No money has been placed! I told you that!” Wilbur accused. “Also I am not the one telling you to blow stuff up.”

“ Memememememe — I said nothing about blowing anything up,” Tommy argued. “I was at most implying arson. I said absolutely nothing about exploding shit! That’s you!”

Wilbur slapped his hand against his forehead. “Oh, you insolent child!”

“Oh, you cryptic old man!”

Wilbur shot up. “Hey!”

“I hardly know anything about you,” Tommy retorted. “You— you could be a war criminal or something for all I know—“

“Do I look like a fucking war criminal to you?” Wilbur interrupted.

“... You could be!” Tommy exclaimed. “What’s your favorite color?”

“What is your favorite color?”

“Red. Answer the question.”

Wilbur groaned. “Blue. Used to be teal.”

“Why did it change?” Tommy pressed.

“There is not enough of it here,” Oh god, Tommy thought. Here we go. “The sky is cloudy. The water is gray. It is muted, it is drowning in black and white film instead of saturation. I wish there was more of it. Especially down here.” He longed, Tommy was exasperated.

“Wilbur, we are underground. Look at the graffiti.” Tommy deadpanned. “Or just go on Google man. Color blue— not everything needs to be a Greek tragedy.”

“That is not a natural blue,” Wilbur objected. “It is artificial! From a spray bottle, or on a screen!”

“I’ll bring you some flowers or something, okay?” Tommy snapped. “You’ll get your fucking blue.”

“I will sneeze on you.”

Tommy hit the side of the seat. “You will not!”

Wilbur made a face, rearing his head back. “A—a— ACCHOO. Like that. But you will not be expecting it.”

“Fuck you! And your blue!” Tommy exclaimed, Wilbur cackled.

“And why do you like the color red so much then?”

There was no special reason as to why Tommy enjoyed red. When teachers asked in primary school he gave it as a response, no deep or intricate thought attached to it. That was the difference between him and Wilbur. Everything Wilbur did and said seemed to have some sort of deep thought attached to it, everything he said was planned out, and said carefully.

Tommy was decidedly not that.

Tommy existed in the moment and Wilbur existed around it, quietly observing. Whispering. Taking notes.

“No reason,” Tommy shrugged. “It’s just kinda nice. Loud.”

“Like you.” Wilbur teased.

Tommy groaned, hitting the back of his head against the glass. “Stop patronizing me! I’m done doing color theory with you!”

“Oh I can do color theory—“

Tommy put his hands out, gesturing for him to stop. “No, no. Please do not. I’m begging you. I can only handle so much of your monologues.”

Wilbur scoffed. “My ‘monologues’ are fantastic, I will have you know.”

“You should write songs,” Tommy said. “You’re a right emo; you— you— you could take all that messed up shit up there,” Tommy pointed. “and make stuff. I dunno.”

“I mean I used to,” Wilbur breathed. “not anymore though.”

“Why not?” Tommy pushed.

“Have not felt like it.” He said simply. “No fun in doing it anymore. Can not even sing to anyone.”

Tommy’s brows furrowed. “That’s shit,” he grumbled.

“Poor me, having to exist being friendless!” Wilbur sighed. Tommy knew he was being dramatic, but it still made Tommy glare.

“Hey!” Tommy objected. “I’m your friend!”

“That just makes me sad,” Wilbur groaned, rubbing his face. “we are friends?”

“ Nooo,” Tommy drawled. “I only meet mere acquaintances on the tube line in the middle of the night.”

“You came back here because of our deal,” Wilbur pointed out. Tommy’s brows creased, because technically he was right. To be proven right, to be proven wrong, that’s why he kept coming here. Some sort of odd mutual trust and genuine curiosity enabled Tommy to keep coming back.

Sam might call it a lack of self-preservation.

And he wouldn’t be wrong, sneaking out in the middle of the night, to a tube station, alone, to meet a practical stranger was in every right dangerous. The first time Wilbur had stumbled into the seat across from him, Tommy couldn’t bring himself to care about that part, the danger. If Wilbur had mugged him then and there it wouldn’t have changed anything.

Once again, the thought of not seeing Wilbur again was bothering Tommy. Did Tommy want to make another deal? To continue this odd tradition? Tommy felt, alright. Kinda. He was happy. This was a good weekend. His classes yesterday were bearable, the overwhelming feeling to pull his hair out was muffled under the warmth in his chest.

Did feeling better mean he would never see Wilbur again? Surely they could keep doing this. Just a... check-up.

“You should play again,” Tommy suggested. “if not for anyone else, then just for yourself ya know?”

“Do you play anything?” Wilbur asked.

“I know piano,” Tommy thought. He hadn’t played said instrument in a bit. He had a keyboard that sat in his closet collecting dust. He hadn’t taken it out since he moved into the flat with Sam. “I haven’t played it in a while. Too much noise.”

Their stop was coming, Tommy realized. Tommy hit his leg awake, standing up. “Guess we will dive into that later,” Wilbur said. Tommy shook his head.

“No, no,” Tommy was going to put a stop to that right now. “I’m not you. There’s no deep, depressing reason. I just don’t play anymore. Stop psyche evaluating me, or whatever the fuck you people call it.”

“Alright, alright.” Wilbur said lightly. Taking the lead as Tommy followed him out. “Are you still going to get pins?” Tommy hummed an ‘mm-hmm’ in response.

“I like the pins,” Tommy confirmed. “Do you want anything?”

Wilbur shrugged him off. “Nah,” He waved. “Knick knacks, I would have no use for that. Nowhere to put them.”

“Are you homeless?” Okay, that was a bit rude, Tommy would admit. But that slipped, alright? “Because that would explain a lot actually.”

“ No,” Wilbur said immediately. “I have a house, Tommy.” He groaned in exasperation. “Believe it or not, I can exist in different places other than a tube station. ”

“No, but it makes sense! Every time I see you you’re wearing the same shit!”

“It is my Tuesday jumper,” Wilbur defended. “I already told you that.”

“ It is my Tuesday jumper .” Tommy mocked. “Fuck you. You don’t have a house.”

They stopped outside the glowing Jack Of All Trades sign.

“Get something cool this time. Like an orca.” Wilbur suggested as Tommy pushed open the glass door, Tommy mumbling a ‘will do’.

Jack leaned over the counting, scrolling through his phone. His eyes met Tommy as he strolled further into the shop. “Hello again!” He put his phone down on the counter. “I was wonderin’ if you were gonna show up.”

“It’s become a habit,” Tommy said, reaching into the bowl.

“What’s ya name again?” Jack enquired.

Oh, Tommy realized. “Tommy,” He answered. He took the blood-orange-flame-shaped pin in his hand, placing it on the glass counter.

“You’re gonna run me out of pins,” Jack joked, sliding the pounds over to the register.

“You’re gonna run me broke,” Tommy joked back. He clipped the pin in, securing it. “Bye Jack!”

Jack waved as Tommy pushed out the door. Wilbur stood waiting for him, raising his eyebrow as Tommy showed him the new pin. “You did not get an orca,” Wilbur pointed, disappointed.

“He didn’t have any orcas, big dubs. Is that why you got banned?” Tommy asked, turning backward as he walked in front of Wilbur. “He didn’t have any orca merch? Is that it, Wilbur? Have I cracked the mystery yet?”

“Nope!” Tommy’s excitement visibly dropped. “Good guess! Still wrong.”

“ Ughhhh, ” Tommy groaned, kicking a stone. “Fuck you, man. Just tell meee,” Tommy begged.

“No,”

“Please.”

“Still no.”

“Did you steal something?”

“No.”

“Did you kill his mother?”

“ What ?!— Tommy, no!”

“Are you a felon, Wilbur?”

“Let me stop you while you are ahead,” Wilbur said. “The answer is no, no, and no. To everything.”

Fuck you, Tommy thought. He didn’t like not knowing things. He’d figure it out. He would drop it for now, because this clearly wasn’t getting anywhere, but he’ll make Wilbur slip. He will! He just needs to catch him off guard. He could do that! Outsmarting Wilbur would be a feat, an accomplishment.

“I’ll figure it out, you watch,” Tommy grumbled.

“Good luck with that Toms,” Wilbur hummed.

“I don’t need luck,” Tommy stated. “Just my big brain.”

“You do have a big head,” Okay, that was mean, Tommy thought.

“That was unnecessarily rude,” Tommy stated. “I can’t believe you’ve done this to me, Wilbur. My self-esteem. It’s ruined.”

“Oh come on,” Wilbur retorted. “I have a big forehead. Look.” Wilbur lifted the curly bangs that framed the front of his face.

“Oh no,” Tommy cried. “Don’t do that, please. My eyes! I can’t stare directly at it!”

Wilbur fixed his hair, chuckling. “My jumper buddy used to call me Forehead-Bur.”

Tommy snickered. “Jumper buddy sounds cool.”

“He really is not. He is a real loser.”

“Like you?” Tommy chortled.

Wilbur scoffed. “Shut it!”

When they got to the station, two women were standing together on the platform. Tommy nodded politely while Wilbur simply ignored them. When it had pulled in, Tommy trailed Wilbur to the back. The two women had sat down at the front.

“Got any plans for this week?” Wilbur asked, Tommy shrugged.

“Got a test Thursday. That’s about it.” Tommy thought. “I think Tubbo wanted to go to the mall Friday, dunno. I’ll have to text him.”

It would be the next time that Tommy would see him; his, Ranboo’s and Tubbo’s schedules made it difficult to see each other during the week. Tommy was no longer actively avoiding them now, though. Maybe Tommy could set up a game of Pub G, or CSGO.

He was starting to feel guilty for blowing them off, actually. Tommy would have to make up for that. He didn’t really regret coming to see Wilbur, he couldn’t. If Tommy was given the choice between playing a first-person shooter game on a Tuesday night with them versus… this…

Tommy knew what he would choose.

They stopped. No one on or off.

“You have anything planned?” Tommy asked.

Wilbur did not look like he was expecting to be asked. “Hmm,” He wondered. “Might go see my dad. Been a bit.”

Tommy did not know why that had shocked him so much. A father! Everyone had a father, Tommy knew that alright? That was completely logical.

Wilbur had just, given off the feeling of someone who didn’t have anyone. Wilbur was a feather floating in the wind. Tommy supposed that feather had to come from a bird then, perhaps it was missing it.

“You should bring your dad something,” Tommy said, shaking off the frown.

“Like what?”

“Like— like a snowglobe or something man, I don’t fucking know. Flowers!”

“He likes birds,” Wilbur thought aloud.

“Chicken,” Tommy decided.

“ No,”

“Chicken,” Tommy repeated. “You gotta let me know how that goes next time.”

“Next time?”

Oh.

They stopped. The two women left, the brunette left quickly while the blonde frowned at him.

Tommy forgot that they hadn’t even thought of another deal yet. Did they need that at this point? Couldn’t Tommy just show up and trust that Wilbur would be there, deal in the air or not?

“I... I—I think I want to keep doing this?” Tommy admitted, pulling at his hair. “Showing up. And talking, to you, ya know? I enjoy it. I keep thinking like, what deal, what bet this time we could make again. And nothing comes up.”

“You want another deal?

“Do you?” Tommy asked, genuinely. “I don’t… I don’t want to make you feel like you have to come back here.”

They stopped. A small group got on, this time kids around Tommy’s age holding bottles wrapped in brown bags.

Wilbur thought for a moment, like he was mewling over his next words carefully. “As long as you need me, we can keep doing this,” Wilbur said softly.

Catharsis, there it was. Tommy swallowed. “Okay. We can do that.” It was another deal, in all technicality. An extended one at that. Conditional.

But Tommy was relieved from that pressure of not knowing if there will be a next time. Because now he knows for sure there will be! And another after that!

Wilbur might have started as a buffer to what Tommy considered the inevitable, a simple delay. Despite the serotonin high that he had for the past few days, Tommy hadn’t forgotten about Wilbur. He hadn’t forgotten about why he met him in the first place.

Did he want to anymore?

Tommy didn’t have an answer, apparently.

That’s why he needed these meetings with Wilbur to continue, they got him to the end of the week, they got him through his current problems. He helped him fix his relationship with Tubbo and Ranboo. Maybe Tommy wanted to figure out what he could solve before he left. What he fixes— then he’ll decide.

He’d make up his mind then.

Because was Tommy’s decision to make, not Wilbur’s. Not Sam’s, not Tubbo’s, not Ranboo’s. His. He knew that. Alright! Tommy knew that.

They stopped. The loud group got off.

Tommy eyed them as they left. “It looks like you asked the wrong teenager for booze,”

Wilbur cackled, his boisterous laugh filling the now mostly empty train car. “I had forgotten I did that,” He giggled, wiping away at his eye.

“I didn’t!” Tommy pointed. “Man, I thought you were going to stab me. Or demand for my wallet. Or both.”

“You thought I was going to mug you?”

“You asked me for booze!”

“I was breaking the ice!”

“You break the ice by asking for alcohol ?”

“Yeah! You looked miserable. I thought you could use a good laugh.”

“I didn’t,” Tommy said. “I clicked a pen at you. I was prepared to stab you with that in case you were a wrongun.”

“Oh no, ink poisoning,” Wilbur dismayed. “What will I do?”

“Go to the ER,” Tommy replied. “But you’re probably banned from that too.” Wilbur was silent. Tommy had meant that as a joke. “Wilbur…”

“It is a long story,”

“Oh my god.”

“It is!”

“Geez man,” Tommy rubbed his temple. “And you scold me for making jokes about Molotov Cocktails!”

“They are mini bombs.”

“And you’re not allowed in places in half of England!”

“I did not set anything ablaze, Tommy,” Wilbur said, rising. His stop was next. The night was coming to an end. “Try not to get arrested between now and next week.”

There it was, his confirmation. “No promises big man!” The train was stopping. “Try to stop pissing people off!”

“See you, Tommy!” Wilbur stepped out, not looking back at Tommy.

When they moved again, Tommy startlingly realized that he was alone. Just him. Two weeks ago, Tommy would’ve killed for this. He would’ve died for this.

Tommy sat alone, and the flashing markers of the tunnel were too bright and the rumbling, vibrating feeling of the tube going at its ungodly speed was nauseating because Tommy should’ve been—

He could’ve been—

Tommy shook his head. Squeezing his eyes shut. He could drown out the lights. He was okay. He was alone, and that was okay. It didn’t matter. Being alone didn’t make a difference. Nothing changed. The time of the night was really starting to become very prominent to Tommy. He wanted to go home and just sleep. Tommy checked his phone, no new messages other than some old Instagram notifications.

When his stop came up, he practically bounced up and sprinted off of the train, pushing past a concerned-looking ginger woman. He was up the steps before the train could even pull out.

Tommy was alive for right now, and he was okay with that.

#wilbur #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #tommy #crimeboys #crimebois #sbi #sleepy boys inc #crime bois #crime boys #dream #dream smp #sleepy bois inc #wyt shutupanakin #shutupanakin posts

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pandoraborn · 4 years ago

Note

I dunno if your taking prompts/ideas, but I keep seeing things in Techno's streams and keep connecting them to Tommy (like little reminders of Tommy) so maybe Techno reacting to these sort of things? (Cobblestone towers, the hole to tommy's basement [if it's still there idk], little things like that)

Part one || Part two word counter: 1537 words triggers: suicide mention, abuse mention, violence, hearing voices, anxiety, panic attack

Techno hates being here. For some reason, his own home feels wrong, like something is amiss. Nothing feels safe right now; he barely feels safe in his own skin.

He rubs his arms as he wanders about, trying to fight back a panic attack. He’s Techno, he doesn’t panic. He doesn’t lose his cool, he doesn’t... he doesn’t need to feel like this. Yet, everything feels wrong, nothing feels comforting.

Maybe it’s the remnants of that stupid cobblestone tower that still exists by his house. Phil had missed a few chunks in his haste to mine it away, but there’s enough of a reminder that sends Techno into flashbacks. He remembers joking around with Tommy while he built it, Techno remembers playing around with the scaffolding to scare Tommy.

At the time, it had been fun. The tower only became harmful after Tommy left.

Techno heads inside the house, wanting to erase that particular memory. He can’t afford to think about Tommy right now. He still wants to recover from the earlier visit, not wanting to focus on how much Dream had terrified him.

The humming from the villagers down below startles him. Techno’s hearing is far too keen, and he’s letting out a panicked yell in response. When he settles, he hears nothing but the blood rushing in his ears, accompanied by the faint, distant sound of the voices. They’re still screaming Tommy, and he doesn’t know why. For a second, he wonders if Tommy is hiding in his house again, so he heads down the ladder to check.

The first basement is skipped over. Techno goes even deeper, landing in what should have been Tommy’s hole. It’s no longer the raccoon basement. Techno stands there for a second, caught in yet another memory. He vividly recalls Tommy sassing him, throwing potions and giggling. At the time, Techno would have given anything to throw Tommy out into the snow, but now, he misses having Tommy around.

He hates missing Tommy. Techno hates remembering all the silly little moments that had won him over in spite of himself. He hates remembering how he tried his hardest to help, even if his intentions hadn’t been the best. He remembers hiding Tommy in a box, with Tommy eating gapples the whole time, peeking out to glance closer at Dream.

A new wave of panic washes over Techno. Dream. He’d fucked up bad enough to the point he’d isolated the teenager who was clearly crying for help, turning him away in favor of the entity who’d abused him. All because of one stupid debt Techno felt he owed.

Oh gods, he really did fuck up.

The voices are screaming louder. Some yelling Tommy’s name, some yelling at his stupidity, and some yelling incoherent nonsense that he can’t decipher. Amid the cacophony, there is something hushed, whispered, barely carrying through above the din.

Intruder.

The blood drains out of his face. The word is not repeated. All Techno hears now is the sound of screaming, blood rushing through his ears and drowning out the sound of the villagers. He crawls back up the ladder, trying to slow his rapidly beating heart. It’s too soon for another fight, it’s too soon for him to get into another scuffle. If it’s Dream-

No, it shouldn’t be. He would have heard over the comms by now if Dream had escaped. It’s not Dream, it’s someone else who isn’t supposed to be here.

On the first floor, Techno grabs the axe Ranboo made for him. It just makes him think about how Tommy still has the axe of peace, and for a brief second, the thought fills him with comfort. Tommy has his axe, Tommy’s keeping it safe. Techno doesn’t even want it back at this point, it’s enough to know that it’s in good hands.

The thought is gone once again when Techno moves outside, seeing a dark figure in the distance move closer. It’s someone who’d come through the portal, but Techno recognizes the silhouette almost immediately.

The panic gives way to anger when he lunges for Quackity, rushing through the snow and closing the distance between them. He knows Quackity is doing the same thing, running headfirst for him, with a sword in his hands. Quackity looks just as pissed as Techno feels.

“If it’s death you want, then you should have told me at my own execution,” Techno snarls. He swings his axe hard, but Quackity parries him with a strength that Techno doesn’t remember him having. He’s almost impressed. But he swings again, hoping to actually chop off a limb this time.

Quackity dodges out of the way, letting out a furious snarl. “I’m surprised you haven’t dropped dead yet,” he snaps. “I wanna know why you visited Dream.”

“What?” Techno pauses momentarily. He’s surprised people had seen him near the prison. Had word gotten out already?

“You’re such a piece of shit Techno, it’s bad enough that you helped Dream blow up L’Manburg, now you’re still in contact with him? What are you planning? What are you up to? I swear to god, if it involves any of my friends-”

Quackity interrupts himself to swings at Techno again, aiming for his midsection. Techno’s eyes widen as he blocks the blow, pushing back against the sword with renewed panic. He knows exactly who Quackity means by ‘friends’.

“I went to ask him why, idiot!”

“Why, what? Don’t play innocent here,” Quackity snaps. “You’re just as guilty as he is.”

“Why he tried to kill Tommy and Tubbo! Jesus Quackity, do you really think everyone who doesn’t automatically side with you is a card-carrying villain?” There’s no actual point in fighting, not if they’re just going to keep going around in circles. He pulls back and wipes snow off his axe with his pants. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“It is my business. Tommy used your stupid axe to hold me at knife point because I told him I hated you. So naturally I had to come see why he’s so suicidally attached to you. I still don’t get it.”

“That’s because everyone else is too stupid to figure out what Tommy was fighting for.” Techno turns to leave. He knows he sounds hypocritical, but right now he’s not in the mood for anyone’s bullshit, especially Quackity’s.

“You’re a hypocrite then. Because you knew Tommy was fighting for L’Manburg, and you turned against him anyway. If I remember correctly, you helped blow it up.”

“If you want accuracy, Dream blew it up. I stood by and watched, just like literally everyone else did. I remember Tommy and Tubbo trying to talk me down, and I heard Tommy was the only one who did anything when you all confronted Dream. So we’re all hypocrites here, letting a teenager do all the work for us. Congratulations Quackity, you’re a villain too.”

“That’s not true,” Quackity protests. “I’ve always put my friends first. I always tried to do what’s right.”

“Did you? I can’t remember details, exactly. But when Tommy was at his lowest, he ran to someone for help. Who was it he turned to...? I really don’t think it was L’Manburg.”

Techno glances at the still-standing mailbox. He has no room to talk here. It’s not like he treated Tommy the best during their brief time together, but he likes to think he tried.

“Oh, so now you’re some glorified savior because Tommy ran to the nearest location for help? Remember how Tommy was exiled from L’Manburg? It’s not like he could run home.” Quackity sheathes his sword and glares. “Don’t pretend you know what’s best for anyone, because you’re still a tyrant.”

“Think of me as whatever you want,” Techno mutters. “Dream’s the one in prison, not me. You don’t have any power anymore, so any delusions of grandeur you might have about arresting and executing me are just that: delusions. Now if you don’t mind, get the fuck off my property before I decide to add your teeth to my collection, officially.”

“What is Tommy to you? Why is the kid so attached to you, and why are you so attached to him? What’s going on between you two?”

Techno pauses. He doesn’t know what is going on between he and Tommy. He doesn’t know if he considers Tommy his brother; they certainly don’t act like it. Some sort of bizarre family? Definitely not his best friend, that would be Phil.

It’s something strange, something deeper. Whatever it is, Techno doesn’t want to let it go.

“He’s my Theseus,” he finally mutters. “He’s always been my Theseus, and I’m going to protect him.”

“What did Dream tell you?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is that Tommy’s safe, alright? Will you please leave?”

Quackity doesn’t respond. Techno can hear him trudging off through the snow, hopefully going back through the portal. Maybe he’s taking the long way home, but it doesn’t matter. The blood lust is no longer driving him to madness, the voices are finally quelled for now. He’s left feeling tired and exhausted, ready to rest, finally.

This time when he enters his house, the memories don’t hurt as much. Theseus once lived here, and that’s okay.

@mysterio-is-the-truth @egopocalypse @lilsprout-exe @dragonsight9

#mcyt #dream smp #dream smp fanfic #fanfiction #mcyt fanfic #technoblade #quackity #c!technoblade #c!quackity #angst #violence #anxiety #panic #hearing voices #suicide mention #abuse mention #long post #miishae writes #nonnie

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punkscowardschampions · 5 years ago

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Ali & Ro

Ali: One of your kids is here??? Ro: Oh no! Ro: I double checked everyone was aware of the cancellations and everything Ali: You know what people are like, probably received but didn't actually read/listen to the message, like Ali: I'll quickly get in before ma can be her charming self any harder Ro: Thank you Ali: [allow time for that] Ali: Done Ali: Why'd you have to cancel anyway? Ro: Sadly I have yet to master being able to be in two places at once, especially when one of those places is so ridiculously far away Ro: What's more surprising though is that you've remained at home for long enough shepherd my pupil in and out for me without assumedly cursing Tess Ali: Ugh, I feel that Ali: until we're blessed with time-turners, we'll all have to muddle through Ali: and I've been there enough myself to guess where you are, so I won't pout about any potential adventures you could've been on Ali: everyone is DOA and MIA today, plus if I let her shout at me for long enough she might not ground me forever 🤞 Ro: Indeed Ro: Well, I can't deny that would be very much appreciated as I've been subjected to plenty of pouting already as things stand Ro: You can let her know that I'll be making my grand return soon enough which will at the very least give her another target should she desire one Ali: You can probably ignore him, he's just feeling the ill-effects of a 3-day bender, like Ali: some hydration and vitamin c and he'll be over it Ali: can't say the same of mother but my sins definitely outweigh yours Ali: though the offer is appreciated 💚 Ro: He's very much fine in that regard I'd been assured prior to my arrival and of course did my part to truly make it so by making him a late lunch or early dinner once I got there Ro: Regrettably, that offer was taken very much not in the manner it was intended Ro: The tally of my sins therefore apparently exceed the number of yours, in Drew's eyes at any rate Ali: Sounds like Drew Ali: you spoil him Ali: Caleb's mum made him work today, as he was too sick for school Ro: All I've spoilt is his afternoon seemingly Ro: Yet again, I'm a waste of time Ali: Hey Ali: don't take on his bad mood just 'cos he's mad he didn't get what he wanted Ali: you know it's bullshit Ro: None of his grievances are unfounded Ro: I shouldn't break promises Ro: Even if I did make them for less than ideal reasons Ali: No, but you know Ali: you have those reasons regardless Ro: And he has his own reasons to be upset Ali: Which you're clearly giving a fuck about Ali: so he owes you the same in return, yeah Ro: Of course, but his anger is fuelled by how much he does care, obviously Ro: It's because he likes me so much that he wants to take things further than they are Ali: Partly Ali: but I don't think anyone can say that that's all it is Ali: not to discredit how he feels in any way Ali: if anything, it takes into consideration all aspects Ro: He is the only one who can address that with any degree of clarity but its a conversation we're unlikely to have for a while Ali: I'm sure it won't be anything like that long Ro: That almost sounds as if you are in fact discrediting how he feels but I have no desire to get into a disagreement with you about the one I just had with him Ali: No, I'm saying he's nothing if not persistent Ali: trust me, he'll get over it if he has any sense Ro: It's less about the sense he possesses and more about the degree to which my own has abandoned me Ali: Do you regret the fact you didn't or regret the fact you were considering it? Ro: Both regrets somehow exist side by side and I have no idea how that can be Ro: Or which of the many internal voices vocalising my many mistakes I should begin to listen to Ali: Sounds about right Ali: are you in love with him? Ro: Yes Ali: Yeah Ali: it's Ali: the worst kind of headfuck Ali: amongst many other things Ro: What would you do in my place? Ali: About what Ali: specifically Ro: My next move Ro: He says I won't lose him but I know it's more likely than not Ro: Especially now that Carly has her own caravan to host in Ali: You shouldn't do it if that's the only reason why Ali: doing it because you're fearful of any outcome is just a bad idea Ali: it should always be primarily that you want to Ro: I do want to but I also don't want to Ro: It's complicated Ali: It is Ali: it might stop being complicated Ali: or you might do it before it does Ali: either of those is fine and valid Ro: What if it doesn't and I can't? Ali: You will Ali: if you want to, then you will Ali: I said it was the most important factor but definitely not the only, not even close Ali: it's complex but you know, like most things, stressing upon it will never make it less so Ro: I suppose Ali: It's like all this stuff isn't it Ali: thinking you'll never get your period and then it just happens Ali: we've all got our own pace for all of it Ro: And my pace is several steps behind always Ro: Maybe next time I should just go to the party Ali: Well his is coming up so Ali: you will be at that one Ro: Oh my god, don't remind me I haven't even begun brainstorming gifts yet Ali: 😂 Ali: you do have time Ali: but it might distract you from this worry so have at it Ro: You're so fortunate that Caleb's is ages away Ali: I know Ali: so much of me cannot hack that, I'd actually die Ro: After emerging from Carly's mostly unscathed, you could be forgiven for believing yourself immortal, I'm sure Ali: It was pretty hectic Ali: not sure if I'd say life-threateningly so but keep that between us Ali: could tell ma though Ali: keep her from hysteria Ro: I'll use that as my conversational opener when I come in if you'd like Ali: Subtle, cheers Ali: tell her there were no recreational drugs or pre-maritial relations too, whilst you're at it Ro: Carly would appreciate the lack of, I'm certain Ro: More so than Tess would my attempts at such a clearly crafted lie Ali: Can't win with her, like Ali: don't lead with that though Ali: even if that's a truth Ro: It's the kind of day I'm having Ro: I'll simply wish on everything possible that the losses extend to calories as well Ali: Don't waste the magic Ali: I know you skipped lunch Ro: You know because I told you I was busy running around after Drew Ali: Exactly Ro: Nonetheless, I've spent more time on this bus than anything else Ro: It's a pity I can't transfigure my bike here Ali: it seems like a good idea until it starts chucking it down halfway Ro: True, I'd be unlikely to garner any sympathy or permission for more time off from Tess even if I caught my death Ali: Seriously Ali: if she has to see any of us tomorrow at all, she might actually lose it completely Ali: what with Bea and Fraze being their delightful selves all weekend too Ali: the only ones not on the shit list rn are Tommy and Joe and that's only through absence Ro: Precisely Ro: Much like how the idea of finding birthday gifts for Drew is favorable after the nightmarish pursuit we all have to endure in order to provide something that Bea will undoubtedly dislike and return where possible Ali: 😂 s'why I kick it homemade Ali: good luck finding any takers for my sentimental tat, babe Ali: bless Ro: Alas the memory of my childish homemade cards finding their way to the recycling bin earlier than I feel necessary haunts me still Ro: Did Carly like what you made for her though? Ali: 😞 Ali: Yes, thankfully she's far more receptive and forthcoming with her thanks Ali: and the caravan looks amazing Ali: looked, I HOPE everyone kept out Ro: It would be difficult for her not to be, Bea, of course, is without competition in that regard Ro: I was impressed by the pictures despite being well aware of your artistic eye and resourcefulness in gathering materials Ro: Perhaps you should take and utilise all the magic yourself immediately Ro: Protection spells have been employed and succeeded for less Ali: True Ali: and a good idea to boot Ali: I better do it remotely Ali: aside from me leaving the house for anything but school and work rn being a deathwish, I'm not sure of the state I'd find the residents in, like Ro: Hm, yes arguably that is an even better idea Ali: Obviously, I do not plan to be her prisoner for long Ali: but for a great escape, I need even greater plans on the outside Ro: It would be my pleasure to extend such an offer, dear sister, but my own flight of fancy earlier did little else but backfire so it's best I stay under lock and key until I feel suitably chastised Ro: Either by Tess or myself Ali: Self-flagellation is next to godliness, of course Ali: I'll think of something Ro: I have no doubt that you will Ro: But whilst the subject of faltering has been raised, can I ask you something? Ali: of course Ali: scientia potentia est Ro: I was just wondering if you spent much time with Drew this weekend, that's all Ali: Not a huge amount Ali: but I saw him about, doing his thing Ali: if I saw anything like that I would've kicked his arse and told you Ali: in that exact order Ro: Okay Ro: Well, thank you Ali: Of course Ali: sisterhood before everything Ali: especially boys Ro: My favorite religion and the one to which I've been devoted to for the longest and most faithfully Ali: 💚 Ali: What's your ETA? Ro: 13 and a half minutes Ali: Ooh precise Ali: that'll please the jailer Ali: tell her 15 and you'll be back in the good books when you're arse is up the table without her even having to shout up the stairs Ali: 👍 Ro: I already told her 21 minutes so I have enough time to fix my face somewhere that isn't a very full bus Ro: She doesn't need to know that I've been crying Ali: 😕 Ali: Cold water fixes all Ali: we can talk about it properly after Ali: feels like forever Ro: It's not too late to pray for a summer storm Ro: Though it seems everyone misses me until they get the opportunity to spend time with me, so I might be wise to adjust my prayers accordingly actually Ali: Not everyone Ali: just him Ali: and just because he's mad Ali: we'll tea and talk, promise Ro: As long as you share too Ali: I gotcha Ali: you wanna hear all the fantastical and sordid exploits Ro: Fantastical yes, sordid not so much Ali: 😂 Ali: I'll do my best to spin the yarn into something comfortable and befitting Ali: don't worry Ro: Being guaranteed one less thing to overthink about will forever be appreciated Ali: That's my job Ali: one of Ali: labour of love, really Ro: tá mé i ngrá leat freisin Ali: 💚💚💚 Ali: right, I got a table to set Ali: not gonna know what's hit her Ali: Rock even agreed not to throw any spaghetti up the wall Ali: providing I buy him sweets for a week Ro: I'm in awe of your power whether or not she will be Ali: whether a six-year-old can stick to a deal is another thing Ali: did threaten him with a broken pinkie so 🤞 Ro: I'll likewise threaten him with the type of hex befitting a 6 year old promise breaker if needs be Ali: 💀🐸🐀🕯🥀💀 Ro: Our minds have always worked in similar ways, that's a truth which deserves to be universally acknowledged Ro: But for now, go Ro: There will be plenty of time for talking later

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smkkbert · 7 years ago

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If loving you is wrong (I don’t want to be right)

Summary: They live in a society where the Ministry for Procreation decides who you get to marry. Oliver and Nyssa have come to terms with that. Although they are married, Nyssa can secretly be with Sara, and Oliver can do whatever he wants to do. When Oliver decides to make changes, he falls madly in love with Felicity. Therefore. his life takes a pleasant turn because although they cannot publicly be together, at least they can be in secret. Things soon get complicated, though, when Felicity receives a letter that shall change her life.

Rating: Explicit

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Chapter 6 of 15: Crazy in love

Felicity sat down on the edge of her suitcase and was already reaching into her purse to call Oliver when she realized that she was sitting right across a wall with a dozen TV screens. Ray Palmer’s face was staring down at her with a somewhat creepy smile that seemed to crawl right under her skin. She actually felt goosebumps spreading on her forearms. She quickly took her suitcase and rolled it over to the wide windows, sitting back down at the edge of her suitcase there and watching the planes take off and land.

“Much better than Palmer’s face,” Felicity mumbled to herself as quietly as possible. She had barely heard herself over the noises surrounding her. Yet, she shot a quick look around to make sure nobody had heard her. She took in a deep breath and rolled her eyes at herself. “Pull yourself together.”

One should think that four months of secretly dating a married man should teach you how to not freak out about a slip like that. Saying something against one of the high-ranking politicians in the party could cost a few thousand dollars, maybe a day or two in arrest. Having a relationship with a married guy could either force you to spend the rest of your life in prison or cost you your life. Yet, she wasn’t half as nervous when spending the night in Oliver’s bed. She actually slept quite soundly in his arms.

Smiling, she pulled her phone out of her purse and picked Oliver’s number from her last called contacts. During the call setup, Felicity shot a look at her watch. Verdant hadn’t opened yet, but she knew that Oliver was already at the club to take care of the last preparations before the club would be opened. The dial tone sounded only once before he took the call.

“Hello?”

“Starling City got me back.”

Oliver chuckled. “That’s good. Now I need you back here with me and it’s perfect.”

Felicity smiled, shooting a look at her watch. “I already called my driver and got my suitcase. I will head to the exit now and should be home in half an hour.”

“I need at least two hours here before I can make myself scarce here. By then, the party should be going and-“

“Hey, if that’s Felicity, I’d suggest you drop everything and leave now!” Felicity heard Tommy whisper from Oliver’s end of the line. “You have been unbearable since she left.”

“I’ve not been unbearable,” Oliver mumbled back.

Felicity chuckled. “Unbearable, hm?”

“He’s exaggerating,” Oliver replied, the tone of his voice giving away that he was probably giving his friend a certain look. “I have just been a little…”

Oliver stopped, trying to find the right words. Felicity perked up her eyebrows, waiting expectantly with a wide smile on her lips. She was more than relieved that she had installed some security apps on both of their phones to make it almost impossible to hack them. She wouldn’t have gotten through this last week in Gotham City if it hadn’t been for the long phone calls and sexy little text messages she and Oliver had shared. It was weird, but after the last four months it felt impossible to remember how life had been without him.

“I just missed you,” Oliver admitted with a sigh. “I really, really missed you.”

Felicity’s smile widened. “I missed you, too.”

Suddenly Felicity remembered why it was so much easier to have an illegal relationship with Oliver than it was to mumble some true words about Ray Palmer. Everything was just easier when Oliver was around, and everything felt safer with him. Something about Oliver, probably his own usual calmness with the situation, made her feel better about it. She enjoyed being with him. It felt good.

“You know, last night I had this dream of how I would pick you up from the airport and you would come running into my arms in slow-motion and I would scoot you up into my arms and-“

“Now I feel guilty for leaving you alone with Tommy when you have been like that the entire time,” Felicity interrupted him, shaking her head with a chuckle.

“Trust me, you have nothing to feel guilty for,” Oliver told her. “Besides, if I hadn’t whined about how much I missed you for the past six days, I am sure Tommy wouldn’t have given away his free evening so easily.”

“Oh, so it’s all tactic.”

“Of course, it was,” Oliver replied with a chuckle, then added, “at least partly.”

Felicity smiled. She knew he had missed her because she had honestly missed him, too. She knew that should scare her because in a world like this there was just no happy ending for a couple like them, at least not in the way it was in the fairytales. If they were lucky, they could spend the rest of their life secretly dating. If they weren’t, even that would be taken away from them soon or later.

A quiet sigh escaped Felicity at that thought.

“Hey, everything alright?” Oliver asked.

“Yes,” Felicity hurried to say, biting down on her bottom lip and trying to sound as cheerful and possible when she added, “You know me. I get lost in my thoughts every now and then.”

Felicity was sure that Oliver could hear right through the lie, but she didn’t say anything more. They had promised themselves to enjoy every second of what they had while it lasted. There was no good in worrying about the future as long as it hadn’t come. It would only overshadow the time they had.

“I am going to wait for you at your home, okay?” Oliver asked after a moment of hesitation.

“Sounds great,” Felicity replied with a relieved smile and sighed once more. “I can’t wait to get home and finally sleep in my own bed again.”

Oliver chuckled. “In that case, I know exactly where I will wait.”

“I love sleeping naked by the way,” Felicity added.

“Well, that definitely gives me a hint of the dress code for tonight.”

“Oh, yes,” Felicity replied, smiling to herself. “See you later.”

“Can’t wait.”

“Me, neither.” Felicity already got up and was about to hang up when-

“Hey, how did that last meeting with Bruce Enterprise go today anyway?”

“Great,” Felicity replied, taking her suitcase and heading towards the exit. “He repeated once again how much he loved his last visit in Starling, especially because of the great club by the way.”

“Who cares about the club right now? What about your joint project? What did he say about the adjustments you suggested?” Oliver asked.

Felicity smiled. She knew that Oliver barely understood anything of what she told him about her work. Yet, he always asked and always listen closely. He caught up on her excitement and felt it infecting him. It was one of the many things she lo- really, really liked about him.

“Yes,” Felicity answered, shaking off the thought that had just crossed her mind. “He loved the ideas I shared with him and said he’d gladly invest more money since the new direction of the project promises a much larger outcome.”

“That’s great, Felicity. I am so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Felicity smiled to herself. “It really eases off quite the burden from my shoulders.”

“I know,” Oliver replied and she could hear the smile in his voice. “Okay, I have to hang up now so I can go to your place. Should I get us some takeout on the way?”

“I ate something in the plane. It was horrible because I am so spoiled with all your homemade food, but it did satisfy my appetite.”

“Well, I hope it didn’t satisfy all your appetite.”

Felicity smiled and licked her lips. His words made goosebumps spread all over her skin, leaving a slight prickle in her core. She bit down on her tongue to suppress a strangled moan. Her body had memorized the feeling of having sex with Oliver in so many details by now that just hearing him alluding to sex like that set her nerve endings on fire.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “There’s definitely a lot of that appetite that build up inside of me these last days.”

“Well, I am going to be happy to help with that.”

Felicity chuckled. “In that case I rather hang up now, so I can have dessert when I am back home.”

“Consider me already there waiting for you.”

“I will,” Felicity replied. “See you later.”

“See you later.”

Felicity hung up, smiling to herself. Her life had become so much better since she had met Oliver. She was happier since he had stepped into her life and she had decided to do her best to let go of her worries and try taking her life into her own hands. Oliver really made her happy.

She thought back to the words that had threatened to form in her thoughts and caught her bottom lip between her front teeth in response. A part of her felt like she should be worried about that word. Saying you loved someone was quite the thing and given her and Oliver’s situation it was destined to end in heartbreak. She knew it was true, though. She had fallen hard for him from the beginning. They had decided to slow things down to really get to know each other, so they had taken their time and gotten to know each other. That process had only made her feel more and more for him up onto the point that she felt she had crossed every line she had set for herself in life.

She loved Oliver.

The thought made her heart skip a beat. She had thought it a few times already, but she hadn’t told Oliver yet. She hadn’t been ready and she wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear it, either. Oliver was great. He was the best boyfriend you could wish for and far from being commitment phobic. They had decided to take things slow, though, and Felicity wasn’t sure how slow exactly that was.

She felt tempted to tell Oliver. She had thought a couple of times already that he wanted to say the same to her, but that he had stopped himself. Given that she had run away after their first date she couldn’t really blame him for hesitating, especially since she wasn’t exactly sure about whether to tell him either.

Maybe she should tell him tonight. After the long week away, she was even surer about her feelings. She was a little bit afraid about how much she cared, but compared to how scared she had been at the beginning of her relationship with Oliver she was quite calm actually. Like a few weeks ago, she would have probably-

Felicity’s thoughts came to a sudden stop when she bumped into something or rather someone she realized when she looked up and was faced with a broad chest. Movements around caught her attention and Felicity gasped for breath, letting her suitcase fall to the floor at the sight of the three guns that were pointed at her. She could hear the clicking of the safety catches over the rushing of blood in her ear and felt her heart beating right up into her throat.

“Guns down,” a voice demanded. “Now.”

Despite the guns being put on safety and lowered, her heart was still racing in her chest. It pounded against her ribs painfully, almost feeling like it wanted to crack the bones. Her legs were shaking, her whole body in shock mode it seemed.

“Ms. Smoak, I am so sorry,” the voice from before much calmer and warmer now. “My bodyguards are extremely oversensitive these days. Are you okay?”

Felicity flinched when she felt a hand being put to her shoulder and quickly sought out the eyes of the man talking to her. She felt the last of color fading from her face when she found Ray Palmer’s face only a couple of inches away from her. She would probably think that he was quite handsome if it wasn’t for the fact that he was probably going to be the next and yet youngest presidential candidate for the governing party.

“Are you okay?” Mr. Palmer asked once more.

Felicity forced a smile onto her lips. Her body was close to trembling, but she did her best to hide it. She swallowed quickly, nodding her head.

“Yes, I am fine,” she answered, stroking her hand through her hair and making Mr. Palmer’s hand fall from her shoulder in the process. “I am sorry for running into you. I was distracted.”

Mr. Palmer smiled at her. She knew it was supposed to look friendly, but when you worked for an organization that forced into loveless marriages, tortured and killed people who fought for honest democracy and didn’t see anything wrong with what you were doing, everything you did looked creepy. She swallowed once more.

“Do you have someone to drive you home, Ms. Smoak?”

“How do you know my name?” Felicity asked back immediately.

Mr. Palmer’s smile widened even more. “I am very interested in technology and kept an eye on your company.”

“Oh,” Felicity made.

She couldn’t really say what it was, but something told her that this wasn’t the full truth. The way he looked at her with a knowing smile like he had a secret he didn’t want to share with her, gave it away. He looked at her like he had seen her naked and she didn’t know. The thought made Felicity’s heckle rise nervously.

“So, do you have someone to drive you home?” Mr. Palmer repeated.

“Yes,” Felicity hurried to say. “My driver is waiting. Thank you.”

“Well, it was nice to finally meet you in person, Ms. Smoak,” Mr. Palmer said, holding out his hand for her.

Hesitatingly, Felicity put her hand into his and shook his hand. “It was nice to meet you too.”

She quickly pulled back her hand, took her suitcase and turned around. She had to force herself to just walk hurriedly instead of running as fast as she could. She still felt goosebumps all over her body. Felicity couldn’t say what exactly it had been, if it had been about the creepiness of meeting a high-ranking politician, about the fact that she was betraying the legal system by dating Oliver or about Mr. Palmer knowing her name. Either way, something about the meeting had left a really bad taste in her mouth and she wasn’t sure she would get rid of it easily.

* * * * *

Felicity was still rummaging around in her purse, trying to find her keys, when the door suddenly opened from the inside. A hand wrapped around her wrist and she just got to grab her suitcase to pull it into her townhouse behind her before a familiar, broad body pressed to her front and pushed her back against the door until it clicked shut behind her. There was barely time to take in a breath before Oliver’s lips were already on hers.

Releasing a low moan, Felicity framed his face with her hands and stroked her fingertips through this short stubble. Oliver stroked his tongue against hers, his taste invading her mouth. Felicity’s fingers moved into his hair, clawing around some strands. Oliver pushed closer to her, his body getting so close that Felicity could barely breathe, but she couldn’t care less. She moved her legs up and down until her dress finally rid up high enough on her thighs for her to wrap her legs around Oliver’s hips.

It was crazy, but one week without him had left her crazy with need to feel him pressed against her and moving inside of her again. She had no idea how Oliver did that, but seeing him or kissing him or touching him always left her wanting more. Hearing his hoarse voice over the phone had been enough to bless her with vivid dreams of what her night would look like if she hadn’t been on the other side of the country.

Slowly Felicity moved her hands down from the back of his neck and over his shoulders and chest to the waistband of his jeans. She grabbed his shirt and tugged it up his body. Oliver pressed his hips against hers, trying to keep her against the door, so he could lift his arms and allow her to take off his shirt. The movement of his hips against hers elicited a wonderful friction that didn’t go unnoticed by either of them, though. Moaning, they started thrusting against each other, heightening their arousal. Felicity could feel Oliver harden in his pants, the friction growing more delicious until Felicity had to part her lips from his to gasp for breath.

Her lungs were burnings with the need for air, but her quickly increasing pleasure only allowed her to take in shallow breaths. She squeezed her eyes shut, letting her head drop back against the door and enjoying the sensations that appealed to her. Oliver’s erection pressed against her core, the zipper of his jeans making the friction all the more delicious. His hands grabbed her thighs firmly, keeping her against the wall and holding her legs open for him. His chest pressed to hers. His lips sucked at the side of her neck while his tongue was caressing the soft skin there. His stubbled scratched her in the way she loved so much.

When Oliver thrust up against her particularly firmly, Felicity gasped for breath. Her legs tightened around him, holding him in a firm grip.

“Bed,” she demanded, clawing her fingers back into his hair and scratching her fingers over his scalp. Oliver growled against her neck, the sound vibrating against her skin. “Now.”

Oliver didn’t have to be told twice. He adjusted her position against him before he stepped away from the wall and started walking them to her bedroom. In the meantime, his lips moved back up her neck to her lips. Their tongues met in a passionate dance. Unable to hold back from touching him any longer, she moved her hand under his shirt and stroked over his well-defined abs. Oliver took that as encouragement and let his right hand slide from the middle of her thigh to her butt, squeezing gently. Felicity chuckled against his lips in response.

When Oliver sat down at the edge of the bed, Felicity moved closer to him immediately. She grabbed his shirt and took it off of him. While her hands explored his naked chest, Oliver lowered the zipper at the back of her dress. He pushed the fabric down her shoulders until it pooled around her hips.

Their lips met in another hungry kiss as Oliver stood back up with Felicity in his arms. The dress fell to the floor before Oliver set Felicity back on the bed, standing in front of her. Quickly Felicity kneeled on the bed and stroked her fingertips through his hair, never breaking the kiss. In the meantime, Oliver unbuckled his belt and slid off his jeans and boxer briefs in one go.

“Felicity,” Oliver growled when she wrapped her hand around his shaft and moved her fingers up and down with slow movements.

Only now Felicity realized that neither of them had said a word since the second she had stepped into her house. While she couldn’t care less since she appreciated his lips against hers or whatever other part of her body, it suddenly hit her how much she had missed hearing his voice like that. As soon as the thought popped into her mind, as quickly it faded away again when Oliver’s lips claimed hers in another searing kiss.

While Felicity continued to stroke his erection, Oliver unclasped her bra and threw it away carelessly. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he bent her back and captured her right nipple between his front teeth. Felicity gasped, her head falling back and her eyes squeezing shut. Oliver tongue flicked over the sensitive nub, eliciting a strangled moan from Felicity.

Slowly, his muscular chest moved closer to her and he lay her back down on the mattress, climbing on top of her without hesitation. His warm body covered her, her hand falling off his length. Felicity scratched her short fingernails over his back and Oliver growled against her nipple, the vibration running all through her body.

“Oliver,” she whispered.

Immediately, Oliver lifted his head from her breast and looked at her. His deep blue eyes seemed to crawl right under her skin, eliciting goosebumps all over her body. Both of them were breathing heavily, neither of them speaking as they just looked into each other’s eyes. Oliver was still propped up onto his forearms. His fingertips stroked over her cheek gently.

Felicity felt warmth and contentment spreading in her chest. She loved those quiet moments when she and Oliver just looked into each other’s eyes, saying a thousand words without speaking. She loved it even more when they had these moments in the middle of foreplay. It was like all of a sudden, their feelings and the deep connection they shared broke through the passion and lust and just took over. It reminded her once more that they had so much more than some shallow thing.

Felicity could almost feel the words she had held back for the past weeks threatening to spill from her lips when Oliver started rubbing his erection against her clothed center. Her back arched, a low moan falling from his lips. Oliver used the opportunity and stroked her tongue into her mouth once more.

His fingers hooked into her panties and pulled the fabric down her legs. Felicity wiggled her hips, tugging the panties down the rest of the way with her toes. She kicked them away carelessly, waiting no second to wrap her legs around Oliver’s hips and welcome him against her. Both of them moaned into each other’s mouth when his hard cock pressed to her wet folds.

They had stopped using condoms a couple of weeks ago. Felicity was on the pill and they trusted each other. Oliver had even gotten himself tested to make sure that he was safe. Somehow, feeling Oliver inside of her without any barriers in between made the sex even more amazing.

Unable to wait for feeling him inside her again, Felicity scratched her fingernails down his back. She put her hands to his butt and squeezed gently like he had done before. While Oliver chuckled against her lips, Felicity moved her hand between them, grabbed hold of his cock and positioned him at her entrance.

Oliver pulled back enough to look at her. His lips were opened as he panted. Felicity could feel his rapid heartbeat against her ribs. While Oliver entered her slowly, his hard length sliding through her slick walls with ease, she rubbed her hands up and down his neck, focusing just on Oliver’s eyes.

Once he was settled deep inside of her, Oliver stayed unmoving, letting her adjust to the way his cock stretched her. Felicity bit down on her bottom lip, suppressing a content moan at the feeling of being so perfectly filled by him. When Oliver licked his lips, Felicity lifted her head from the pillow and captured his lips in a kiss. It started out slow and gentle, but soon grew more passionate.

Oliver pulled out a little before he thrust back into her. He settled for a quick rhythm without much movement. He barely pulled out before he was already urging his hips closer to hers again. Yet, the way he moved in and out of her, his length rubbing all the right spots, made her pleasure rise quickly. Oliver’s pelvis rubbed against her clit, made heat coil in her stomach quickly. Felicity pushed her heels against Oliver’s butt, wordlessly urging him on.

Soon, their kisses were growing sloppier. Oliver’s thrusts picked up speed. Both of their breathings were becoming shorter and shorter.

“Oliver,” Felicity whispered when one particularly hard thrust made that coiling heat in her stomach form to a tight knot. “Oliver.”

“Yeah, me too,” Oliver whispered back, knowing exactly how close she was.

Only a couple of seconds, a few thrusts later, Felicity felt the well-known prickling in the tip of her toes. Her nails dug into the skin covering his shoulder blades. Oliver grabbed her thigh, pulling it closer to her chest and opening her more to him. The slight change in the position gave her just what she needed. Three thrusts later, the prickling in her toes spread all through her body. Her back arched, her breasts pressing against Oliver’s hard chest and her nipples rubbing against his body as he continued thrusting.

Through the blur of her pleasure, she watched Oliver’s face. He looked at her with intent eyes, his gaze fixed on her face. He was completely focused on her as if he was trying to memorize this moments forever. Felicity lifted her trembling hands and framed his face, her fingers stroking through his short stubble.

“Felicity,” her name fell from Oliver’s lips with a grunt when his hips stilled, and he came.

While both of them enjoyed the aftermath of their orgasms, their hips moving against each other slowly, drawing out the last moments of their pleasure. When their breathings slowly got back to a more normal level, Oliver took one of her hands from his back, kissing her knuckles and lacing his fingers through hers. As he rested their joint fingers on the pillow next to Felicity’s head, Oliver lowered his lips onto hers and kissed her gently. Felicity stroked her toes along his calves, the fingers of her right hand tracing the length of his spine.

When Oliver pulled back enough to look at her, he smiled. His free hand moved to her face, cupping her cheek and stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. He brushed his lips against hers once more before he whispered, “Hi.”

Felicity chuckled at the verbal welcome after he had already welcomed her back nonverbally in such an intense way. She snuggled her face into his hand and kissed his wrist. Smiling at him, she replied, “Hi.”

“I missed you,” Oliver told her and nuzzled her nose. Then he ducked his head and pressed his nose against the side of her neck to breathe her in. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Felicity answered, “so much.”

Oliver pressed a kiss to her pulse point, squeezing his hand. “I am so glad you are back.”

Felicity nodded. “So am I.”

He kissed her pulse point once more before his lips traveled up the side of her neck and along her jaw until they found hers. Felicity bit down on his bottom lip gently and Oliver growled. Instead of deepening the kiss, though, he pulled back.

“I’ll be back in a second,” he whispered against her lips and kissed her once more. “Don’t move.”

When Oliver slipped out of her, she bit down on her bottom lip to suppress a low moan. She was still so very sensitive. Oliver seemed to realize it because he cocked his head and gave her a certain look. Hiding the arousal she was still feeling, she stretched herself slightly, enjoying the pleasant soreness of her muscles.

“Don’t worry. I am not planning on moving anytime soon,” Felicity explained.

“Good,” Oliver replied.

He pecked her lips once more. Then he crawled out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom, not before looking back over his shoulder and wink at her. Felicity smiled. Only when the door closed, she squeezed her eyes shut and released a long sigh. This had definitely been the best way she could have been welcomed back. She couldn’t have felt more at home if she had tried. Being back in Oliver’s arms had given her back the familiar feeling of home so easily, and it had taken away all the worries she had had when he had stepped inside of her home.

With a suddenness that seemed to choke her, the memory of meeting Ray Palmer at the airport came back to her mind. Felicity felt goosebumps spreading on her skin and quickly pulled the blanket over her, feeling the sudden need to cover her. She still couldn’t get rid of the weird feeling that had been crawling under her skin when she had met Palmer.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Felicity took in a deep breath. She had to pull herself together and forget about this. There was probably no person in the world that acted against the law and was still all calm when meeting someone like Ray Palmer. Meeting people like him always left a weird feeling, no matter what. There was no deeper reason to it.

“How would you like-“ Oliver started when he came back into the bedroom. Felicity turned her head to look at him when he stopped. He stood in the frame of the door, holding a wet washcloth in his hands. He was frowning at her. “What’s wrong?”

Quickly, Felicity put on a smile. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

Oliver’s frown deepened and he gave her a look, wordlessly telling her that he didn’t believe her. Felicity bit down on her bottom lip and avoided his gaze.

“Do you want to-?” Oliver asked and held out the washcloth for her.

Felicity nodded quickly, taking it from her. He was usually the one to clean her up after sex, but she guessed that he had caught up on her uncomfortableness and decided that maybe she’d rather do it herself tonight. She didn’t know if that was really true, but she definitely didn’t mind either. She wiped away the remains of the sex between her legs and threw the washcloth over into the bathroom like Oliver usually did while he was putting on some new boxer briefs. He always kept some clothes in her wardrobe.

When Felicity felt the mattress dip beside her, she turned her head to watch Oliver sitting down at the edge of the bed next to her. He looked at her gently, interested but not urging.

“Talk to me,” he pleaded with whispered voice.

Pressing her lips together, she took his hand in both of hers and held it close to her chest.

“I ran into Ray Palmer at the airport.”

Felicity could see Oliver stiffening. His lips formed a tight line and he frowned at her in a way she wasn’t sure how to interpret. Squeezing her hand, he moved closer and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. He pulled her closer until her body was pressed against his and her head rested against his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her tightly and protectively. Felicity released a sigh, enjoying the warmth and the scent of his skin.

Oliver kissed the top of her head. “Don’t worry. He doesn’t know about us. Nobody knows about us.”

Felicity wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or if he just wanted to convince himself. Either way, when she leaned her head back to look at him, she could see the worry in his eyes. He tried to hide it behind a smile, but just like he had been able to see through her smile before, she could see through his smile now.

She stroked her hands over his abs, avoiding his gaze when she whispered, “I am scared.”

Oliver’s arms wrapped around her even more tightly, and he kissed the crown of her head. Her hair got caught in his stubble a little and Felicity smiled at the feeling. She had gotten so wonderfully used to it like she had gotten so wonderfully used to so many things that happened between her and Oliver.

“Do you want to end this?” Oliver asked.

Immediately Felicity looked at his face again, looking for a sign that maybe that was what he wanted. Instead, she only found pain in his eyes. His face looked miserable like the bare thought of their relationship coming to an end was making him sick.

“No,” Felicity hurried to say, shaking her head. “No, I don’t want to end this. I am just scared that it will have to end.”

Oliver tightened his arms around her and kissed her forehead, shaking his head slightly. “This won’t end until we want it to end.”

“How can you be so sure?” Felicity asked. “With everything that is going on in this world, how can you be sure that-“

“I love you,” Oliver interrupted her.

Felicity felt her breath getting caught in her throat. Her heart jumped in her chest arrhythmically a few times before it started racing and pounding against her ribs. She tried to say something, but her lips refused to move and, she doubted that even if they did, she could get a single tone out of it.

“I love you,” Oliver repeated eventually. “I love you, and you can bet your ass that there is no way I would ever let this end between us. I’d run to the other side of the earth with you if necessary. I’d never give up on this without a fight. I’d never give up on you without a fight.”

Felicity felt tears welling in her eyes at his declaration. He hadn’t only told her that he loved her. He had told her that he would fight no matter what obstacles were thrown their way. Given their situation, she wasn’t sure he would be able to keep this promise. Yet, knowing that he was willing to give everything to keep her close and be with her touched her more than she thought possible.

She had to swallow down the thick lump that had formed in her throat before she whispered with trembling voice, “I love you, too.”

Felicity watched Oliver blink a few times like he couldn’t believe what she had just said. His deep blue eyes focused on hers, looking for any doubt in her eyes. Only when he couldn’t seem to find any, he captured her lips in a desperate kiss. Felicity responded to it instantly, giving back as good as she got.

Soon, Oliver rolled them over, pressing her back into the mattress and covering her body with his. They repeated their I love yous again and again as they claimed each other’s body once more, letting actions follow their words as a proof of their truthfulness until they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

* * * * *

The loud knock at the door woke them up abruptly. Oliver sat up in bed just as quickly as Felicity did. Both of them stared towards the door, silently praying for this to be just a false alarm. When it knocked once more, though, Oliver looked at Felicity.

“Are you expecting someone?” Oliver asked her with whispered voice.

Felicity shook her head, her face pale and her eyes wide open. Oliver felt his heart quickening in response. Of course, he knew that there was always the possibility of people coming over unplanned. Yet, it seemed like a weird coincidence that today of all days Felicity was getting an unplanned visit when she had run into Ray Palmer yesterday and had a weird feeling about it.

They both climbed out of bed hurriedly. Oliver picked up his pants from the floor and put them back on. Meanwhile, Felicity put on some sweatpants, a bra and a shirt. Oliver looked for his shirt, but he remembered that she had took it off somewhere along the way to the bedroom and guessed that it was still on the floor in the hall or somewhere.

When there was another loud knock at the door, he saw Felicity flinching in response. She was already taking the first step to the door, but Oliver cut her off quickly. He put his hands to her face, holding her head between his fingers like it was the most precious thing to him, probably because it was the most precious thing to him indeed. These last months, he had allowed Felicity to get so deep into his heart and he had fallen in love so hard with her, he almost couldn’t believe that he had never meant to fall in love with anyone in the first place.

Looking at her scared eyes now, Oliver remembered why he hadn’t wanted to fall in love in the first place. This country was a dangerous place for people to fall in love. There was no happy ending for people who just fell in love, and there was definitely no happy ending for people who fell in love when one of them was already married to someone else. There was no way this could have ended well between them. Yet, Oliver couldn’t bring himself to regret falling in love with Felicity. These last months, he had been happier than he had ever been before.

“I love you,” Oliver reminded her again.

Felicity swallowed. She took in a deep, slightly trembling breath. “I love you, too.”

Oliver felt his heart stumble in his chest at the words. He leaned in and kissed her gently. His lips brushed against hers, and Felicity responded to the kiss, opening up to him. Before he could stroke his tongue into her mouth and taste her, another loud knock made them pull apart, though.

“I am just a friend and needed a place to stay after a fight with my wife,” Oliver whispered a somewhat reasonable excuse for his presence here. “Okay?”

Felicity nodded. “Okay.”

She put her hands around his wrists and pushed his fingers away from her face. Closing her eyes for a second, she left the bathroom. Oliver stayed where he was standing in the middle of her bedroom and listened. He heard her steps going further and further away from him. There was a moment of silence before he heard the door being opened.

“Good morning, Ms. Smoak,” he heard a voice he didn’t know say and felt his heart stopping in his chest already. “There is a certified mail for you.”

Oliver suppressed an exclamation of relief or at least a long sigh as the tension fell off of him. Squeezing his eyes shut and breathing out as slowly as possible, he sat down at the edge of the mattress and let his upper body fall back. He rubbed his hand over his naked chest, trying to ease the stitching pain that still continued on despite the relief of knowing that it was just the postman. Taking in a deep breath, Oliver put his hands to his face and rubbed them over it roughly.

These past months, he had tried avoiding any thought of what would happen if things went down between him and Felicity. There was always the danger of being caught. They knew they could trust their friends, but you could never know about anyone else. Felicity’s neighbors could get suspicious when he showed up too often, and though most people in the Glades would rather die than work for the government, there was always the danger of people realizing how often Felicity was spending time there and deciding to report it. That way they would ensure themselves the government’s goodwill.

He knew all of that, but being with Felicity had made him push those worries aside as fast as possible and focus on the bright side of their relationship. He loved Felicity and he was happy with her. He didn’t want to give up on that just because of the fear what might happen sooner or later. Maybe, just maybe, they were lucky and whoever Felicity would have to get married to – a thought Oliver tried to avoid as much as possible – would accept what they had and everything would work for them.

Either way, he’d enjoy every second he had with Felicity and only lose himself in worries when they time would come. He would find a way to stay with Felicity, no matter the cost, then. Hopefully, that would wait another couple of years.

When he heard Felicity entering the room again, he grinned and was already about to comment on how they had gotten panicked despite all their resolutions when he sat up and saw the still shocked expression on Felicity’s face. He quickly got up and walked towards her. He cupped her face with his hands and hold her safe.

“Hey,” he said gently and stroked his thumbs along her cheekbones. “It’s okay. Nothing happened. It was just-“

“Nothing’s okay,” Felicity whispered.

Oliver felt the need to lower his gaze and look away. He couldn’t lie right into her face like that and though things were okay for now, they were far from okay given their general situation. He knew that. Yet, he wanted to calm her down. He didn’t want her to be scared. If he could take her fear from her and carry it for her, he’d do it.

“Felicity, it’s-“

The words got caught in his throat when Felicity lifted the envelope she held between her fingers. Oliver didn’t even have to look at it. Even from the corner of his eyes he could see the emblem on the right corner, telling where the letter came from. Oliver’s heart clenched painfully in his chest, beating arrhythmically against his ribs with a lot of force.

“Nothing’s okay, Oliver,” Felicity whispered. She swallowed hard before she took in a trembling breath. “I will have to get married.”

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