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guessimwritingficsagain · 4 years ago

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Delightful, chapter One (Javier Pena x reader)

Paring : Javier Peña x reader

Warnings : none

Author's note : I wanted to write an 'ennemies to lovers' with Frankie but he's so soft that didn't work so here we are.

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It’s not that you hated Javier Peña (Jesus, you wondered how many women thought that very same sentence everyday).

You had met him one busy night during your first week on the job. He’d been polite, had even introduced himself and explained :

‘I’m a regular, might as well know me by name.’

He’d even asked for yours. But the moment your co-worker Carla had stepped behind the counter he had completely switched and had reduced her to a giggling mess in two minutes flat. She’d been putting a brave fight, though, she’d explained to you later. He’d been hitting on her for weeks but she’d resisted, afraid it would be a one night thing.

She had been wrong about that, because when she had finally given in, it had become a regular thing.

She had been wrong about that but had never stopped to ask herself if he’d wanted more than sex. When she’d asked him, though, she hadn’t liked the answer, not one bit. Except he hadn’t stopped coming in, even bringing some friends with him, some blonde dude who looked really American and a woman - his wife, probably.

Try moving on when the guy you wanted to get serious with keeps showing you at your workplace.

So, Carla, yeah, she’d lost ten pounds, taken the day shift, and taken to call you at three in the morning to cry (you guessed she didn’t have that many friends because you certainly weren’t friends with her but she called you anyway).

Which left you to work with Diego, and you couldn’t stand Diego.

So, maybe, you hated Javier Peña a tiny bit.

And there he was, sitting on a barstool, nursing his second whiskey. The place was mostly empty, so you couldn’t avoid noticing how he kept frowning at the liquid like there was something wrong with it. You didn’t ask, though. You always kept your interactions polite and to the point.

After a while, you felt yourself distracted by the music, your actions more a force of habit, automatisms without any real thoughts behind them. You were brought back to the present, though, when Peña asked Diego how Carla was. And Diego being Diego, answered, loud enough for you to wince :

‘Ah. Fucking awful, if you ask me. Got fucked up by some dude. Poor girl looks like shit, now. Shame because she’s fine and I’d fix her broken heart, if you know what I mean.’

Peña had the decency to look a bit remorseful but Diego, oh, Diego kept going :

‘I offered, once, but she looked down on me. Now, though ? I bet she regrets…’

You slapped him with a tablecloth and got real close into his personal space.

‘I swear if you finish that sentence I’m gonna make sure whatever’s down there can never get up again. You’re a pig, Diego. You talk that big talk but you probably can do shit in bed so stop. I don’t need to hear it.’

‘Cállate, gringa. That stick up your ass must be a real pain.’

And Peña, brave, nice, chivalrous Peña, had to speak up, of course :

‘The lady has a point. Carla was nice. Shit, she is nice. I wanted to check on her, I don’t need to hear you gloat because she wouldn’t let you get some. Use your fucking right hand if you need to, but I don’t need to hear that shit.’

Diego’s face lost all previous friendliness when he turned back to Peña.

‘Whatever, man. But you know, stepping in for the lady won’t get you to score with her.’

He stopped himself there, but you could tell that whatever was on the tip of his tongue would have been really unpleasant to hear. Diego left the counter and went to do whatever. You didn’t care.

You should have stepped away and gone back to whatever it was you were doing before but Peña was looking at you and you had to deal with stuff like that on a daily basis because Diego only ever talked about women and fucking them good and you had enough. So instead of choosing the smart option, you leaned in, hands on the counter, shoulders square, and explained :

‘I can handle myself. I don’t need you to do that, especially considering you’re the one that fucked Carla all up.’

‘Listen, I’m sorry about that…’

‘I’m not the one you should be saying that to.’

‘I don’t need to talk to her. There’s nothing to say. It was a misunderstanding.’

He looked frustrated now. And if he were somebody else - anybody else besides Diego - you’d stop giving him crap, because you got it. Sometimes, people get into things, get into sex and don’t stop thinking about the other’s expectations. The fact that Peña never took her to a fucking restaurant or shit should have been a warning in itself but he could have made himself clear from the very beginning. Could have said it was all about making his dick wet.

But he didn’t, and now you were stuck with Diego and annoying phone calls in the middle of the night. And you felt bad feeling that way about Carla, but you clearly hadn’t had time to really connect and you weren’t a free shrink.

‘If you got nothing to say to her, then don’t come around asking about her.’ You spat.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a tiny little voice mentioned that you were being a tiny bit unfair but it was a fleeting thought that you shoved right back where it belonged : in your trashcan of denial.

Peña downed his drink, then, and got up, slapping money on the counter and said, all sarcasm but, you found, no real bite behind it :

‘Thanks for a delightful evening, my lady.’

You watched him walk away. Yeah, it wasn’t that you hated him.

———

You could see the appeal, you admitted to yourself one evening when Peña was there, sitting down with Connie and her husband and another woman.

You hadn’t gotten the other man’s name but Connie had come to you, one night, more than slightly buzzed and had chatted your ear off as you were making the drinks. You’d found her endearing so you’d asked for her name.

There was no doubt that woman was getting into Peña’s bed and you hoped she wouldn’t end up like Carla, calling someone at three in the morning to sob about him. You hoped he’d taken his lesson and was straight with the women he had encounters with.

You could see the appeal, the moustache and the too-tight jeans, and the way he slightly touched her shoulder, the way he gave her all of his attention, the way he laughed, eyes crinkled and that fucking dimple.

It was a slow night, okay ? It was a slow night and you were bored.

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer.’

You turned to see Emil smiling at you, and you playfully swatted his arm. He was a new addition to the team - and a welcome one, at that. Turned out that Diego had gotten into the habit of fucking women in the restroom and you had the privilege to catch him, once. What would have been a traumatizing experience became much more because your boss hadn’t caught the fact that you were going to the restroom and was following you to tell you something. So you’d seen Diego into action (and that was never going in the trashcan of denial, no matter how hard you tried to shove it in there), but your boss, Ricardo, had seen too.

So, no more Diego.

You were delighted.

Even more so when Ricardo had asked you to be part of the recruiting process. You had been surprised, at first, but he’d said :

‘I have three daughters, and I have two women who work for me, I don’t need men like Diego around.’

Very progressive, all in all. But you were glad.

Back to the moment, away from the image of Diego slamming into a woman (she had been faking, you knew, and telling him that right before he left had been awesome), you quipped back :

‘I don’t even like him, trust me, I’m just bored.’

And that was only partially false. You were bored, but not liking Peña was more of a force of habit than a real thing, now. Carla had found out she was pregnant - not his - so she had quit and, well, let’s just say you didn’t get angsty phone calls in the middle of the night anymore.

Peña walked right to the counter, then, and Emil, with what you’d just said, went to get the order but Peña was looking right at you and talking to you so you went with it. As you were handing the beers, you couldn’t help but ask :

‘She knows you’re gonna fuck her into oblivion but nothing more, right ?’

His eyebrows shot up, and the smirk on his face told you you’d just said the wrong thing.

‘That confident in my abilities, heh ?’

You shook your head and deflected :

‘You know why I said that.’

He put the booze down, at that, and actually sat at the counter.

‘How’s the baby ?’

You jumped in surprise, at that, because you didn’t know he knew and you’d never thought he would care. He picked up on that, too, because he scoffed :

‘Come on, I know you think I’m an asshole but Carla was good. She was nice. I keep tabs, that’s my job.’

‘Your job ?’ You couldn’t help but ask.

He played with one of the beers, then, thumb brushing one of the bottles up and down. You looked away, not liking one bit what was happening in your belly.

‘That’s a story for another time. When you like me, or at least tolerate me. I’ll get you there.’

He got up and walked away and you remembered

You hated Javier Peña.

It didn’t sound quite genuine anymore, and you were fooling no one, given the look Emil shot your way after that, but you held onto that anyway.

———

Your parents had never approved of you moving to Colombia because your Spanish is good, sweetheart, you don’t need to do that, you don’t need to make it perfect but you needed out so you’d gone anyway.

Now, though, sitting in a room in the DEA quarters, shaking, you weren’t so sure about your life choices.

You’d been getting home when you’d seen, turning a corner, a man pointing a gun at another, on his knees. You’d backed off immediately, you stupid brain not smart enough to get you to run away. You hadn’t seen anything, but you’d heard. And that had gotten you to the DEA.

You’d been stupid, really, because you’d heard the gunshot, you’d heard a car driving away but instead of taking a detour or something, you’d looked. And the man lying there with his brain all over the pavement was not going in the trashcan of denial anytime soon.

So, you were shaking, and the door opened and you flinched and then you saw

Javier fucking Peña

‘I guess that answers that question about your job, then.’ You joked, but he didn’t bite.

He kneeled right in front of you instead, hands everywhere, and that was comforting, but the flow of questions was a bit overwhelming too.

Did they see you ? Is there a chance they saw you ? Are you hurt ? Want some water ? Murphy, give me some fucking water right now !

You tried telling him you were fine (you weren’t) but he kept fussing.

They brought you some water, you answered some questions, and at the end, the very end, when it was just Peña and you, he spat :

‘I can’t believe you go home every night on foot. Don’t do that. Stop. I swear if I have to come get you every night …’

‘I’ll be fine. It’s fine. I’ll get someone.’

You were lying : you lived stupidly close to the bar, so it didn’t make sense to drive there. And even with what had happened, it still didn’t make sense to do it. So you lied.

Then you got a few days off, doctor’s orders, and when you came back to work, that first night, as you were ready to head back home on foot as always, Javier Peña was waiting outside the bar. Before you could say anything, before you could find a way out, he declared :

‘Get in the car. I’m taking you home.’

Chapter two

#Javier Pena #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Pena x you #narcos #delightful

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bangbangchanie · 4 years ago

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pretty girl || mark lee

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Description: you and mark can't be together because you're a princess and he's your royal guard, but all you want to be is his pretty girl

Genre: angst, fluff, slightly mature themes (barely lol)

Pairing: princess!reader × royal guard!mark lee

Warnings: minimal cursing, no real smut but kinda mentions of it?

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: i wrote this MONTHS ago and i love it for the most part but part me still feels like it's lacking but admin winnie bullied me into posting it 🤧 i hope you guys love it 🥺💕 - Admin Peachy🍑

♡♡♡♡

You had been tossing and turning all night. No matter how you lied in bed, you couldn’t fall asleep. No position felt comfortable enough and your mind was flooded with thoughts that were keeping you awake. There was only one way to fix it…one person.

“Mark,” you called out, your voice slightly echoing in your large bedroom.

It was only a matter of seconds until the door opened. Mark poked his head in, making sure he hadn’t just been hearing things. “Yes, Princess?” he asked, seeing you awake. “Is something wrong?”

You sat up, turning your bedside lamp on. He could see the pout on your face, knowing he was going to be roped in. “I can’t sleep. Will you please come in and keep me company? I need someone to talk to.”

Pillow talk was one of the few ways you fell asleep quickly…and Mark was your favorite person to talk to. “I’m not sure I should be in your room this late at night, Princess.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time; he had been alone with you in your room at a much later hour before doing much more sinful things.

“Mark, as my personal guard, I order you to come talk with me until I fall asleep,” you told him. You both hated and loved using your royalty to boss him around. On one hand, you loved having the power in the relationship. On the other, however, you hated the feeling that he would only be with you if you ordered him to.

With a sigh, he entered your bedroom, shutting one of the French doors behind him. Ever since your engagement, he had always been reluctant to be in there late at night. “What’s wrong, Princess?” he asked, sitting at your side of the bed.

You frowned. “Don’t call me that. You know how I hate it.”

He did know. His demeanor softened and he reached out, tucking some hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?”

If it was anyone else, you’d absolutely despise the pet name. Really, Mark Lee was the only guy to ever make you feel so soft and throw everything you had once believed in out the window. You never wanted to marry and settle down, have kids, or anything like that until you had met him. Unfortunately, he was your personal guard and couldn’t be anything more.

“I don’t want to do this,” you finally told him. “I don’t want to get married in two days. I don’t want to try on my dress tomorrow. I don’t want to live this way anymore.”

Reaching out, you placed your hand on his. “I want you, Mark Lee.”

He winced slightly at your words, taking his hand away from you. “I know, but we can’t be together. You’re engaged, Y/N, and your parents would never let us marry,” he reminded you. “This is how it must be. Maybe one day we’ll finally be together, but not now. You need to stay loyal to your husband.”

You wanted to correct him that he wasn’t your husband yet, but you didn’t. “He doesn’t want this, either. You know what he’s doing right now? Probably fucking two other girls.”

“Language, pretty girl.” Seriously, anyone else correcting you would have pissed you off. “I know you both are against this, but it doesn’t change the fact that we can’t be together. Even if you want to be with me, you’re better than him and won’t do anything.”

Despite how much you loved him, you hated him for knowing you so well. You wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but you couldn’t.

“I’m tired now. You can leave,” you sighed, getting under the covers once more and turning on your side so your back was to him.

He frowned and also sighed. “Don’t be like this, Y/N.”

Like what? He was the one denying you and telling you that it was over…that he wasn’t even going to fight for you. You were too upset to care how childish and selfish your thoughts were.

“I’m not being any way, I’m just tired.”

Still, he knew you better than anyone else did and he knew you were lying. Standing up, he turned your lamp off before kissing your head and bidding you sweet dreams. You didn’t even get the chance to tell him how handsome he looked in the new white uniform.

♡♡♡♡

“You look gorgeous,” your mother cooed, walking over and adjusting the wedding dress sleeves a bit.

You stared in the mirror with disgust. “I look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man,” you told her, making her giggle.

She had to agree that it was a very poofy dress. “Fine, fine. Let’s do the next one.”

Going back behind the divider, you changed into the next wedding dress. The skirt was still poofy, but the rest wasn’t. You liked it the most as you felt it still managed to show off your figure. Most of all, it truly made you feel like a princess. If only you were marrying your true prince.

Stepping out from behind the divider, your mother and some of the castle staff gasped. They were all in awe of how gorgeous you looked and how much you had grown up. You yourself couldn’t even deny how amazing you looked and how great the dress made you feel.

“I’m gonna cry,” your mother said, wiping away some tears and making you giggle slightly. “Oh, you look gorgeous, darling. You’re gonna make such a beautiful queen.”

Right. Queen. You didn’t want to be queen. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to have to leave Mark behind in a different kingdom. Just the idea broke your heart and you had been in denial since you found out about the marriage.

Staring at yourself in the mirror, you knew it was the perfect dress, but it seemed devastating to waste it on a wedding with someone you didn’t love. “Let’s get Mark’s opinion,” your mother suddenly spoke up. “I want a male’s opinion.”

One of the ladies rushed to the doors, calling out for Mark. He entered just moments later, eyes widening at the sight of you. His footsteps halted, so stunned by your beauty.

“How does she look?”

He was at a loss for words, truly. “I…she…it’s…” he trailed off, unable to even put into words how beautiful you looked.

Your mother squealed. “Aw! It’s the one! He’s speechless, sweetie,” she told you.

You looked at Mark and smiled a sad smile. He was the one you should’ve been marrying. He finally managed out, “You look stunning, Princess.”

“Thank you,” you spoke softly, looking in the mirror again. Tears began to well in your eyes. Even though the dress felt right, everything else felt so wrong and you hated it. You couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over.

Your mother gasped, rushing to your side. “Oh, dear! Ugh, this is the dress, isn’t it?” she questioned, wiping away your tears. “I remember how much I cried when I saw myself in my wedding dress for the first time.”

But, that wasn’t why you were crying. Mark knew this and it absolutely shattered his heart.

“That’s not why I’m crying, Mom. The dress is perfect and I love it, but everything else is so wrong!” you sobbed. “I hate having to marry someone I don’t love. I wanna marry the guy I do love, not some idiot who sleeps around with any girl in his kingdom. This life…I hate it so much that I want to scream but I can’t and I just end up choking.”

Your frustration was evident as you had to massage your chest to breathe properly. You couldn’t stop your tears and you just wanted to curl into a ball for a while and sob.

Your mother didn’t know what to say. “Sweetie, I…you’re in love?” she questioned, trying to unpack the heavy confession.

Your voice cracked as you confessed, “I’m in love with Mark.”

Mark froze, shocked you finally told her the truth after all that time. She looked at Mark and blinked. “Can everyone please leave?”

The room emptied faster than ever before. Mark sighed as he left the room. He didn’t care about his job or anything else but you, and he was worried your mother would be upset. She had been upset when you initially tried to protest the marriage.

He went to his own bedroom in the servant’s quarters, sitting on his bed with a sigh. Everything was a mess and he hated that he couldn’t do a single thing about it.

You went to bed early that evening, tired from all the crying. You eventually apologized to your mother for your outburst, telling her you were fine with the marriage. It was a lie, of course, but a princess knew when to sacrifice.

Mark was still positioned outside your bedroom, much to his surprise. He had thought he’d either be fired or placed somewhere else.

“Mark,” a deep voice said. The king.

Despite constantly being close to the king due to the fact that Mark was your personal guard, he was still terrified of him. “Yes, Your Majesty?” Mark questioned, wondering what was going on. The king had never personally sought him out.

“Can we talk?”

What was Mark gonna do? Deny the king? He glanced at your door worriedly before nodding, following him outside to the courtyard where the large garden was. He had never talked alone with the king before…it felt weird and very nerve wracking.

“I heard about what happened earlier with Y/N,” your father finally spoke. “I never knew you two were so close.”

The memory of the night when you and him first slept together filled his mind and he was so glad your father had no idea. “I’m always there when she needs me, Your Majesty, even if that’s as a friend,” he confessed, unsure what to say.

Friend…it was much more than that. “I have to ask, do you feel the same way about my daughter?”

Mark was conflicted. On one hand, he didn’t want to tell the truth solely due to fear. On the other, what did it matter? Once you were married, you were leaving to rule another kingdom.

“I love your daughter very much, Your Majesty. She is very special and important to me,” he finally said.

Your father chuckled, almost scaring him. “Okay, now tell me as Mark Lee, not as her personal guard,” he told him.

The truth. “I’m in love with her too, Your Majesty. She’s my best friend here and I’d be lost without her. Your daughter is an angel and the person I cherish most. She may just be a princess now, but she’s my queen.”

Wow, he couldn’t believe he had just said that…especially to your father. “You’re a good kid, Mark. Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

With that, your father left. That was it? Mark was expecting to be fired…maybe to even be exiled or executed. It seemed too good to be true.

♡♡♡♡

You were woken up by one of the servants the next morning. “Rise and shine, Princess! Today is the big day,” she grinned widely, pushing your curtains open.

Soon, you were eating breakfast in your bathtub as you took a much needed bubble bath. Once that was done, your hair was being blow dried before it was styled and you had your makeup done. You knew wedding preparation took time, but it felt like years had passed. You were still getting your hair and makeup done two hours after you got out of the bath, granted there had been some breaks in between.

“Wait, that isn’t the dress,” you said as it was carried in. “That’s my dress for after the ceremony.”

It was a very simple white, floor-length silk gown. While it was still gorgeous, it was the wrong dress. “The queen said we’d be starting with this dress,” the servant informed you, also unsure of what the deal was, but orders were orders.

You had no idea why your mother said that, but you didn’t argue. You were done fighting and ready to just be a good princess.

Once your hair and makeup were done, you stared in awe in the mirror. You looked beautiful…more so than you had ever felt before.

“You guys did such an amazing job,” you told the staff with a smile. “Thank you.”

It may not have been your ideal wedding, but at least you were going to look great, so that was something.

They helped you into the dress and you were stunned, so you could only imagine how you would feel and look in the actual dress.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, darling,” your mother told you, poking her head inside. “Are you ready? We’re starting early so you can meet some people first.”

Nodding your head, you stood up and walked over to her, glad the heels were tall enough so you didn’t have to pick the dress up much. She linked her arm with yours and you met your father downstairs.

He smiled. “Wow, my little girl is all grown up,” he said, fake crying.

“Dad!” you whined, gently pushing him with your arm, a smile on your face.

He seemed satisfied as he chuckled. Joining your side, you wondered who you were meeting. Most likely, it was the groom and his parents just once more before the ceremony.

You guys stepped outside and you were surprised. You had been expecting it to be loud from both the guests talking and the string quartet playing music, but it was fairly quiet. You could still hear some talking, but not much and no music.

“What’s going on?” you asked as they led you over to where the wedding was to be held. You just about gasped at the sight. All that was there was the aisle runner and the floral wedding arch. There were no tables and only the staff were there talking as they cleaned some things up.

Mark appeared suddenly with a smile. He wasn’t wearing his uniform but a black tux instead. “Mom, Dad, what’s happening?”

Your mother smiled down at you, brushing some hair out of your face. “Sweetie, we are so sorry for not being more understanding about your feelings. We talked last night and we never wanted to be the parents that forced their daughter into a marriage she didn’t want,” she confessed. “When we first got pregnant with you, we swore we wouldn’t do that to you, but we got so caught up in ourselves and what was expected of our family. We’re sorry for not considering how you felt sooner.”

“We want you to be happy, sweetheart. If Mark makes you happy, then so be it,” your father told you, gently patting your shoulder.

Your mother nodded. “I mean, I feel absolutely ridiculous that I never even realized! All those times he was staring at you so sweetly and affectionately or you were staring at him so happily! And, like a fool, I was just like 'Wow, we hired the right personal guard for her'.”

You and your father laughed at her confession. “This may not be your wedding, but we’d both like to walk you down the aisle to him.”

With a smile, you nodded and linked arms with both of them. Your heart began to pound as Mark smiled at you. You couldn’t believe that he could finally be yours. Hugging both of your parents, they left your side and left you with Mark.

“Hi, pretty girl,” he greeted, using your pet name. “You look breathtaking.”

You grinned, reaching out to straighten the tux lapels. “You look so handsome, Mark Lee,” you told him. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Honestly, he couldn’t either. Just the night before, he had been dreading the day. To have to see you marry another and move away would have crushed him.

“I still feel a little lost, though,” you confessed.

He chuckled softly before taking your hands in his own. “Y/N, I love you. I’ve loved you for a long, long time now. You are so sweet, caring, funny, intelligent, gorgeous, and so much more. You’re the person that can always lift my spirits no matter how upset I am. When you enter a room, it just lights up completely,” he began. “This isn’t our wedding, or your wedding, or any other wedding, but I hope that this will be the place where we promise each other forever.”

As he got down on one knee, your eyes widened. You glanced over to your parents. Your mother was crying and your father was smiling, giving you a supportive nod. Looking back at Mark, he took your left hand in his own.

“Y/F/N, I love you with all I have. I can’t imagine my life without you and I want to spend forever with you. I want to wake up next to you every day, take care of you when you need me, and just be happy with you. I want us, Y/N. Will you do me the great honor of marrying me?”

As he pulled out the ring, you saw it was the same one your father had proposed to your mother with. Tears welled in your eyes as you felt so emotional and overwhelmed by the turn of events.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Mark,” you told him with the biggest smile you’d smiled in months.

Smiling widely, he placed the ring on your finger and stood up, kissing you with more passion than ever. You had missed his taste and the way he held you when you guys kissed. You had missed him so much.

Your mother squealed happily. “Yay! Now I can plan the wedding of your dreams!” she exclaimed, making you and Mark laugh when you separated. “And you can move into the cottage! Oh, this is so nice.”

The cottage was perfect. It was still on the same grounds as the castle, so you could visit your parents every day as often as you wanted but you and Mark would still have the privacy and freedom you wanted.

“You guys are the best,” you told your parents, rushing over as quickly as you could to hug them. “I love you guys.”

They smiled, both hugging you. “We love you too, sweetheart,” your father told you, your mother humming in agreement.

That evening, you and Mark were in your room together. He was lying in your bed, reading something on his phone. You had just finished getting ready for bed and were standing in the bathroom doorway admiring your future husband. It was crazy, really. You guys met two years ago, started secretly dating a year after, then broke things off because you were arranged to marry someone else, and now you were engaged.

He looked up from his phone and smiled. “What are you doing?” he questioned before patting the spot next to him. “Come here, pretty girl.”

You grinned widely, rushing over and flopping down next to him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer and kissing the top of your head.

“Can you believe just a year ago we thought we’d never be able to be together?” you asked. “And just this morning I thought I had to marry someone I didn’t even love.”

It truly was crazy how everything turned out. “I’m so glad we’re here, now, together.”

You were too. You were ready to start a new chapter of your relationship with Mark Lee, your best friend and the love of your life.

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takerfoxx · 4 years ago

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Here, have some more of the WN girls watch The Rebellion Story, this time stretching from Moemura turning back into classic Homura while monologuing to herself to when she shoots herself in the head!

Yes, this is the one with the gunfight.

Reminder:

G=Gretchen

H=Homulilly

Op=Ophelia

Ok=Oktavia

Ca=Candeloro/Mami

Ch=Charlotte

...

Op: Dramatic transformation!

H: All I did was take off my glasses and ribbons.

Op: And you did so dramatically! Complete with a slo-mo hair flick while framed by the full moon!

Ch: Which is apparently about to crash into the city, given how close it is.

Ok: “This is a witch’s labyrinth.” Gee, yah think?!

…

Ok: Okay, where exactly are you headed?

H: Deep into the bowels of the earth, apparently.

Op: Quick! To the Homu-Cave!

G: So, uh, can you see all those windows with the witches, or…?

H: Probably not. It probably still looks normal to me.

Op: Now that just sucks! If you’re going to monologue dramatically you at least ought to be able to appreciate the accompanying visuals!

Ch: “Previously, on Homura Magica…”

G: We probably should have watched the show first. Maybe then all of this would make sense.

Ch: I sincerely doubt it.

…

Ch: Why do all of my scenes have me looking like some brand of idiot?

Ok: Have you seen yourself whenever you get within sniffing distance of a piece of mozzarella? If anything, the doll you is way more composed!

Ch: Oh, so I stick teacups on top of my head, is that what you’re saying?

Op: No, usually you smash them and anything else that’s between you and that sweet, sweet cheesy goodness.

…

Ok: Oh, exposition!

Ch: About my idiot counterpart. I really hope I am the villain and this is all some kind of clever ruse, because otherwise, my God.

G: This is really cute, though. And at least you two are close in this universe too!

Ch: I’m basically a pet.

Ca: Well, if I must have a pet, I’m glad that it’s you.

Ch: Woof-woof.

=from outside, Cheese starts screeching=

Che: Bitch-ass cayennnnnne!

Ca: Whoops. He heard.

…

Ch: …Candy? Are you okay?

Ca: I’m…fine. Just memories.

G: You mean it was really like that?

Ca: Well, Charlotte obviously wasn’t a doll, we weren’t trapped in a bizarre facsimile of the city, and there were no Nightmares, but yes. It was a lonely time.

Op: Because of me, wasn’t it?

Ca: Ophelia, you had literally just lost your family, and I…wasn’t as sympathetic as I ought to have been. So no. It wasn’t because of you. Besides, we did make up later. Had a long conversation and everything. There were even tears.

Op: Well, that’s good to hear.

Ca: Actually, it was pretty close to how it is in the movie, once everyone had shown up. The five of us spending all our time together. Fighting together, training together, celebrating together, and just being girls together. For me, it was probably the happiest I had ever been.

Ok: Right up until my love life went sour.

Ca: Oh, there was so much more to it than just that. Besides, it was all just a temporary thing, a staving off the inevitable. What we have now might be much less exciting but is so much better.

Op: I dunno. Fighting demonic teddy-bears every night sounds like my idea of a good time.

Ca: We didn’t have teddy-bears, remember?

Op: Well, we should have.

…

Ok: Um…Homulilly?

H: Well, this has gotten interesting.

Op: You know, there are a lot of jokes I could be making about you freezing time right next to your crush, but I won’t.

H: Thank you.

G: I don’t get it...Actually, I do. Never mind.

Ok: Shoot the rat! He’s right there!

Ch: Oh, no. She’s going after me. Huh.

H: Huh indeed.

=Charlotte and Homulilly shoot each other an odd look=

Op: So…are we gonna get Homulilly vs. Charlotte?

H: More of Homura vs. Bebe, it seems.

Ch: So…I am the villain.

Op: If you’re lucky, you’ll get an overly dramatic and campy solo number, complete with a pipe organ!

…

G: This is getting a little hard to watch.

Ch: It’s not me.

G: It kind ofis.

H: Charlotte, I would like to take this moment to say that you are a dear friend of mine, and the actions of my counterpart do not reflect my feelings.

Ch: Thanks. Same.

=pause=

Ch: Though could your other self please stop choking me? It is getting kind of weird.

…

Op: Okay, that cinches it! Homura can definitely see the weird!

Ok: How do you figure?

Op: The fact that she’s leaping from dessert tray on a stick to dessert tray on a stick! Why would she be doing that unless she could see them?

Ok: I don’t know. Maybe they just look like telephone poles to her.

H: No, the illusion has clearly dropped, at least for me.

Ch: I’m about to get executed and that’s what you choose to focus on?

Op: For all you know you’re about to snap and bite Homura’s head off.

Ch: I…seriously doubt that. I mean, she is kind of the main character.

Ok: Though hey, wouldn’t that be such a wicked twist? To build up someone as a super-important character only to kill them off like a quarter of the way through?

=Candeloro frowns, a puzzled look on her face=

…

Op: Erm…

H: Well, this is certainly condescending.

Ca: It’s not inaccurate, though. I did struggle with many doubts and insecurities, and often found it difficult to put on a brave face.

Ch: That’s just called being human, babe.

Op: Most humans never went through what we went through.

Ca: That’s also true. Like I said, Homura isn’t wrong. I often felt like I was on the edge of cracking. There was more than one time when one of you would get hurt during a fight, and I would make a big show of being calm and unbothered. I’d encourage you and maybe lightly scold you for letting your guard down, and when you were all healed up I’d reassure everyone that I knew everything would be fine and try my best to carry on as normal. And then, when everyone was gone, I’d spend the rest of the night crying. You were right to assume I would react badly if you accused my close companion of being some kind of nefarious villain.

=long, uncomfortable pause=

H: Maybe so, but I think that my other self here wasn’t in the habit of giving people the benefit of the doubt. I think that her frequent failures might cause her to assume the worst of everyone, and act accordingly. I don’t think that she is giving you a fair shake.

Ca: That’s sweet of you to say so, Homulilly. But realistically speaking, she had reason not to trust me with this information.

…

Ch: Yeesh.

H: It’s okay. You can say it.

Ch: Say what?

H: That this alternate version of myself is kind of…shall we say…

Ok: Incredibly terrifying?

H: Just a little psychotic, yes.

G: Well, I mean, considering what she went through. You were lucky to stop after four loops. How many times did she have to relive my death over and over?

Ch: Still doesn’t make watching me get shoved up against a wall and the life choked out of me any more fun to watch.

…

Ch: Hold up!

Op: Well, hey! Wife to the rescue!

Ca: But…how…?

G: Oh. That is…a long ribbon.

Op: Did you have that attached to her foot the whole time?

Ca: I mean, I guess…

Ok: How did she even know you were up to something?

Ca: Intuition, I suppose. Maybe the lack of glasses and the new hairstyle tipped me off?

Ok: Why would that-

Ca: I don’t know, I’m just throwing guesses out.

H: Well, consider me impressed. Clearly, this other me underestimated you.

Ca: Thank you.

Ch: OKAY! If having my stupid doll face on every billboard in town doesn’t tip you off, then nothing will!

G: Homura’s probably the only one that can see it like that. Mami probably just sees a shoe advertisement or something.

Ch: You know what? That’s actually kind of a relief.

…

Ok: Oh, shit!

Ch: Could you stop trying to kill me? Please?

H: Believe me, if I could stop me, I would.

Op, suddenly sitting up straighter: Hold on, is this going where I think it’s going?

Ok: I think it is! I think it is!

Ca: Oh, here we go.

G: What?

Ok: Homura and Mami are going to fight!

G: Oh. Oh!

H: Candeloro, just like I said with Charlotte, the actions and beliefs of this alternate self of mine-

Ca: Homulilly, relax. It’s fine. These other versions of ourselves took different paths than we did. I don’t hold any of this against you.

H: Likewise.

Ca: Good.

=pause=

Op: Fifty talents on Mami.

Ch: Oh, good Lord.

Ok: You’re on! Time stop, Fee! That’s so overpowered!

Op: Which our girl neutralized without Little Miss Sleuth even knowing.

H: Is this really-

Op: Plus Mami’s the veteran fighter, remember? The tanky heavy?

Ok: Uh, Homura’s got multiple timeloops of experience, okay. That trumps Mami’s couple of years.

Ca: It was more like three…

G: I’m in! I’m betting on Lilly!

H: On Homura. I’m not fighting anyone.

Ok: Same diff! You better win, though. We’ve got money riding on this.

Ch: Well, I’m joining Fee and betting on Mami. I think you’ll find her more of a handful than you’re bargaining for.

Ca: Out of all the childish-

Ch: Buck up! You’ve got fifty talents to win me!

=Homulilly extends her hand across the couch=

H: Hey. May the best fighter win.

=pause, then Candeloro sighs and shakes her hand=

Ca: Oh, why not. You’re on!

…

Ch: Well, that ribbon ain’t going nowhere. Time stop, still neutralized.

Op: Ha! What I say?

Ca: My Bebe’s life is in danger. My will is resolute.

Ch: You are not turning Bebe into a pet name.

Ok: Come on, come on. Get with the fighting already!

=long pause as Mami and Homura have their staredown, and then they leap…=

Op: Oh, yeah! Here we go!

…

Op: Holy shit!

Ok: Go! Go!

G: Wow. That is a lot of guns.

…

Ch: Come on, babe. You can do this.

Ok: THIS! IS! SO! FREAKING! COOL!

G: Look at their faces! They still don’t want to hurt each other.

Ch: Oh, come on, doll-me! Get out of there already!

…

Op and Ch: Let’s go, Mami!

Ok and G: Ho-Mu-Ra!

Op: Let’s go, Mami!

Ok and G: Ho-Mu-Ra!

H: This is easily the weirdest thing we’ve ever done.

Ok: Oh, what? The thing with the sea-monster wasn’t weirder?

H: That was just…messy! We’re watching me and Candeloro’s alternate future selves in a fight to the death and you four are treating it like a pro-wrestling event!

Ca: Yeah. And I’m going to win.

=pause=

H: Did I say you could stop chanting?

Ok and G: Ho-Mu-Ra!

…

Op: Downtown is getting fuuuucked uuuup!

Ch: Just wait until she unfreezes time.

G: Jeez, I can’t tell if you’re both terrible shots or just extremely good at dodging!

H: Definitely the second.

Ok: And now we come to the stand-off.

Op: Nowhere to go, barely any room to breathe. Hey, Lilly, is the kinetic force of those bullets maintained?

H: What?

Op: I know they’re stuck in time, but can you just pluck them out of the air, or would you still be damaged by the heat and contained momentum?

H: I…have no idea.

Op: Best not to touch them then.

H: Probably smart.

…

Op: And time starts up…now.

G: Oh, that looks so unsafe.

Ok: Yeah! I mean, sure, if they hold still they won’t get hit with the bullets right next to them. But the freaking air was full of them! What’s keeping a spray of bullets from raining down from above and turning their heads into swiss cheese? Oh, sorry Char.

Ch: Y’know, unlike my moronic counterpart, I can hear the word “cheese” without freaking out.

Op: And that’s not getting into ricochets. They ought to be perforated right now.

Ca: My bullets were magic. They only ricocheted when I wanted them to. Most times they’d either pierce right through or exploded on impact.

Op: Homura’s aren’t.

Ca: True.

…

Ok: So much for your surroundings. Where the hell are you guys anyway?

H: Looks like some kind of cathedral. Only a very…eccentric one.

Ok: City’s getting weirder by the minute.

G: It could be symbolic for something. Like, I don’t know, violence in a place of sanctuary or…something?

Ch: Or gothic architecture just makes for an awesome place to stage an action scene and the animators and directors know it.

Ok: Stop killing the magic!

Op: Though, hell, speaking of which, would they actually die if they got shot? I mean, I know it would hurt, but…

Ca: Hypothetically? No. So long as the soul gem itself was unharmed, any damage would eventually heal.

G: Like we do?

Ca: Er, sort of, but not in the same way. Their bodies are still flesh and blood. Injuries back then tended to be…messy. And healing used up magic, and if those injuries were too great…

Ok: Witch time?

Ca: Bingo.

…

Ch: “Not getting anywhere.” Now there’s the understatement of the year.

G: So who won? Was it a draw?

Ca: So far, but I don’t think it’s over yet.

H: Indeed. I seem to be…up to something.

Op: Okay, if none of those big honkin’ rifles and machine-guns weren’t working, what good is that little peashooter, gonna…hold on!

=Homura puts the gun to her head. Half-a-second of stunned silence, and then everyone starts yelling at once=

G: Oh, no. Oh, no.

Ch: Oh, my God. They are going there.

Op: Okay. OKAY!

Ok: What the hell is she doing?!

Ca: No, no, no, no, no, no, no…

H: What is wrong with you?! Why are you like this?!

=bang=

=collective scream=

#WN Rebellion MST

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castiel-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

Saving you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader.

Summary: Poe saves you after being severely tortured by the first order.

Warnings: Angst. Blood. Medical inaccuracies probably. Leia being a surrogate mother. Wedge being surrogate father. Fluff.

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: I know I wrote a poe for just the other day but I needed to try do angst with flyboy.

Tag: @phoenixhalliwell

Poe had always been that level headed, ace pilot that everyone knew him to be. But this was a side no one else had ever seen. Not even General Organa. He was running off of no sleep and caffeine and that was it. Bags had formed under his eyes, his usually somewhat neat curls were all over the place.

You had been captured and tortured by the First Order. After your X-Wing had crashed troopers had dragged you away, and took you on board of Kylo Rens Star destroyer. It had gotten to the point during being tortured that you started to dissociate from the reality that was happening around you.

"What are they doing?" Hux asked a lieutenant that was in your cell with him,

"It seems they are distancing themselves from reality sir, to cope with the pain." The lieutenant responded as they look down at you, and your weakened state as you stared into the distance.

Back on the resistance base, Leia physically forced Poe to go to bed. Making sure that either Rey or Finn were there to make sure he actually slept. He had to be honest, he did feel better physically after getting some well needed rest. After getting some sleep, he woke up and freshend himself up. That was until Finn came running in the room.

"POE! LEIA NEEDS US!!" Finn stated heaving the words out. Poe, BB-8 and Finn running or in BB-8s case rolling at full force down corridors leading towards the control room. There Leia stood over a table of information. Sensing the 2 boys and the droid enter the room, she turned and looked Poe dead in they eye.

"Poe... we found them." She simply stated. A little bit of pressure had lifted off of Poe's shoulders for a moment, knowing that he would be able to get to you. Everything around base started getting busy, Poe, Finn, Rey and BB-8 got the falcon ready and we're on their way to the ship.

You were still in your cell on the floor. The extent of your injuries worse than anyone on base has had for a long while. You were certain that your leg was broken from the crash, only to be made worse by Hux and his men. They hadn't given you anything to eat or drink, so your hydration levels were extremely low. Cuts and bruises had formed all over your body. You were finding it difficult to move anything, and the extent of some of your injuries would probably require some PT and a slow recovery.

Inside the Millenium Falcon, Poe sat there nervously his leg bouncing up and down. Rey walked over to him and kneeled in front of him.

"We're gonna find them Poe." Rey stated quietly,

"I know. It's just.... what state they'll be in." He replied even quieter. She left him to simmer with his thoughts until it was time to board the destroyer. The destroyer came into view after dropping out of hyperspace, and Rey could sense your presence but it was very weak. After spending a few minutes, the three of them along with BB-8 were aboard the ship and Rey used the force on some troopers to find you.

Coming to a stop outside your cell, BB-8 got the door open for the others. Poe was first in, and the sight shattered his heart into a million little pieces.

"Y/N? Honey, it's Poe. We're taking you home." Poe stated quietly. He could see your shallow breathes, but there was no recognition of the fact that he was there and not to mention you were almost cold to the touch. Picking you up as gently as he could, he heard you groan and your eyebrows pinch a little.

"Poe?" Your voice cracked as you felt your body being lifted,

"Yeah baby, I'm here I'm saving you baby. We're going home." Poe responded. The five of you moved through the ship, Finn and BB-8 in front, Poe with you in and out of consciousness in the middle and Rey at the back. It wasn't long until you were all in the hanger, blaster fire all over the place. But you all managed to get away on the Falcon.

Poe laid you gently on the bed, and sat next you holding your hand. Rey and Finn left the two of you alone, knowing that Poe would just want to be with you and not talk. As he sat next to you, he felt your hand squeeze his ever so slightly but no words came out. You were too tired.

"I know baby, we're two minutes away from base." He said quietly to you, his free hand stroking your hair back gently. Surely enough two minutes later, the falcon dropped out of hyperspace right above the current planet the base was on.

Medics rushed onto the falcon, helping transfer you onto a floating medical bed. Poe ran behind them on the way to medical, but soon stopped him when they went to get ready to be treated. Poe started sobbing, as he slid down the wall not realising that Leia had just arrived. She got Poe to stand up and then drew him in for a hug and let him cry. Leia knew that you two were in love, and it made her heart break to know that Poe almost lost you in the way he lost his mother, but also then having to hear you have been tortured by the First Order.

Eventually, Poe and Leia were allowed to see you. You looked better, the miracle of bacta doing its job. And when Poe touched your hand it was far warmer than it had been previously. It took you a long while to wake up, the bacta working as best it could. The medics checked on you frequently, and Poe stayed next to you for almost the entire time.

You opened your eyes, the bright light of medical causing then to shut again. Slowly your eyes adjusted to the light and you were able to see what was going on around you. Looking to the left of you, you saw Poe dozing at an odd angle in the chair next to you.

"Poe..." you croaked barely anything coming out, "Poe." You managed to say a bit louder. He sat up with a start, almost falling off of the chair. His eyes were wide but tired, as he looked at you tears welled in his but a smile was across his face.

"Hi honey, how are you feeling?" Poe asked quietly stroking your hair back,

"Like absolute shit. You look tired." You replied bringing one hand up to his face.

"It's cause I am baby, you gave me a scare." Poe stated leaning into your hand and locking eyes,

"Your gonna need physical therapy for that leg you know." He continued kissing the palm of your hand.

"I'm sorry I scared you flyboy. And I know, I gathered that when I was.... when I was. Yeah I gathered." You stuttered out, everything suddenly coming back to you at once. You looked at Poe, tears now falling down your face.

"K-kriff I'm.... im so sorry Poe. I almost left you and... and I was so scared, all I could think about was you." You continued breathing starting to get more panicky.

"No, no baby. Hey listen Y/N it's fine, there is nothing to be sorry about. Baby just breathe, please just breathe for me." Poe stated instantly taking your hand in his and calming you down. Eventually you started breathing properly again and squeezed your eyes shut for a moment.

"I'm sorry Poe." You whispered,

"It's okay baby, I understand. You've had a bad few weeks. But I'm not going anywhere and neither are you, because you're safe." Poe responded kissing you gently.

***********************************

It had just been over a month now that Poe had rescued you. Medical had cleared you to go to your own quarters, but you had to go back either every day or every other day for physical therapy. Some days were better than others.

If Poe was away though, you'd spin his mother's ring around your finger. Which he had given to you as a sign of unity, not long after you were discharged.

Today though, you had a rest from therapy and you decided you'd go sit outside and watch Black Squadron practice flight maneuvers. Sensing a presence next to you, you turned and saw that it was Wedge. Wedge Antilles was like a father to you, he was one of the first faces you saw when you joined the Resistance, and he was the one that taught you everything that you knew.

Standing up, you smiled and hugged him. He sat down next to you and looked at the X-Wings flying past.

"Hey Wedge." You said smiling at the older gentleman,

"Hey kid, how's the leg?" He asked smiling back at you.

"It has its moments. It gets bad some days and then others it's like I didn't injure it. But therapy is helping, I just wanna get back out there." You replied looking up as Poe soared past,

"Yeah I know the feeling. I didn't tell you about the time I basically had the same accident as you did I?" He stated tracking your eyes to your fiancé.

"No sir." You shook your head, now focusing on Wedge,

"Not long after the fall of the Empire and the destruction of the second Death star, I went out of my way to find if there was any remnants of the Empire left behind. One day, my ship got shot by a Tie and I crashed into one of the few remaining star destroyers. Injured myself of course, spent a little while moving around the ship before being caught and tortured for answers. This was above the planet Akiva, and they took me to the imperial Palace which was a magnificent building. After that I don't really remember much, but that's where I met Snap and his mum. I done therapy for a injury similar to yours." He explained, his eyes looking into the distance as he remembered.

"I didn't know that you met Snap that long ago." You replied,

"Yeah, he had a droid modified from the clone wars called MR BONES. But the thing is, therapy will get better Y/N." He stated smiling a sense of understanding there.

"Thank you Wedge." You smiled back giving him a hug again. The two of you sat there for a while, until you both agreed that getting food from the mess sounded good. You used your cane to help you around, sometimes placing most of your weight on it.

The good thing was that you had someone who understood how you felt, someone who loved you dearly and someone that could bring you or your fiancé comfort anytime.

#star wars #writing #poe dameron #oscar isaac

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summahsunlight · 4 years ago

Text

All For You, Part 12

Rating: T

Word Count: 1812

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Pilot!Reader

Summary: Your life in the Resistance was not easy, being married to Commander Poe Dameron and a skilled pilot yourself. When you unexpectedly get pregnant, your life is forever changed. Raising a child on base is hard, but never having parents of your own as a child, you are determined to love your little girl and give her the best life. Poe is equally as devoted to you and your daughter, vowing to keep you both safe from the impending threat of the First Order.

Start from the beginning!

Taglist: @thescarletknight2014, @elmoakepoke, @xxidontwikeitxx, @liadamerondjarin, @marvelofwitch, @blushingwueen, @april-14-blog, @agents-assemble, @paintballkid711, @softly-sad, @badbitxhbuckybarnes, @kesskirata

Taglist is still open! Just let me know if you want to be added! Please let me know what you think, I love talking with you lovely people! Happy reading🥰❤️

Usually, Poe considered himself calm and collected on missions--usually. His mind could normally take the twists and turns that any given mission threw his way--but not this.

Despite the truce being called and the Resistance obtaining the information on Lor San Tekka, Poe could see some triumph in Agent Terex’s eyes as he delivered that final blow--how are your wife and daughter, Commander? I trust they are well. Safe.

Poe had never felt his blood run so cold in his entire life. He wasn’t sure how this man knew about you and Emmy, but he did. Which meant that the First Order knew about you and Emmy. Poe didn’t need to say a word for Terex to know that he’d found the pilot’s weakness.

He felt sick the entire flight back to base. Someone had to have betrayed him to the First Order--to keep Emmy safe, she had not been added to his personnel file. He should send you away, but even sending you away held its own dangers. And he could no longer send you to Yavin IV--if the enemy knew about your daughter, they knew where his father lived--they know, they know, they know--the thought kept pounding away at him.

How was he ever going to protect his family now?

“Commander?”

“General?”

Leia was looking at him, concerned. It was then that Poe realized the briefing room had been cleared--he was the only one still standing in there with the general. “What’s going on, Poe?”

Poe swallowed the bitter tasting bile in his throat. “That agent knew about Y/N and Emmy--I don’t know how. Emmy isn’t on my personnel file for the very reason of keeping her safe, a secret. How did he know she exists?”

She sighed and placed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Poe. Maybe it’s time to send them away.”

He looked at her, exasperated. “Where? Someone on this base told the First Order about my daughter--if I sent them away, they’ll tell the First Order where they’ve gone. Or worse yet, they’ll go to my father.... and...General, what the hell do I do?”

“First, pull yourself together.”

“Yes...yes ma’am.”

“Second, you are not in this alone. The Resistance will help you.”

“I know that ma’am--”

“THIRD... talk to your wife, Poe.”

Rocking back on his heels, Poe knew that Leia was right--he needed to talk to you, you had to know of the threat that was made against you and the baby. You probably were not going to like his suggestion of leaving D’Qar. “Yes ma’am, I’ll talk to her.”

Leia gripped his shoulder. “Poe, no one on this base wants to see anything happen to Emmy. No matter what decision you and Y/N make, we’ll support you.”

Poe felt numb. Someone had betrayed him, someone had betrayed you--but worse yet, someone had betrayed your baby. As he headed back towards your quarters, that numbness turned into anger. He had signed up for this--you had signed up for this--both you and Poe knew the risks. However, Emmy, had not signed up for this and it was incredibly low of the First Order to even threaten her.

BB-8 struggled to keep up with him, inquiring if Poe was going to send you and the baby away to someplace safer.

“I don’t know, buddy,” Poe murmured as he punched in the code to your quarters. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“Haven’t decided what yet?” you asked as your husband stepped inside the room. “You’re back sooner than I was expecting. Did everything go okay?”

Sighing, heavily, Poe immediately went to the baby, lifting her out of her crib and holding her close. “I promise, baby girl, no one is going to hurt you, or Mama. No one.”

The tensions in his voice gave you pause. Feeling a pit form in your stomach, you shakily asked him, “Poe? Is everything okay?”

Poe pressed a kiss to the top of Emmy’s head. “No. The First Order knew about our mission, they were waiting for us when we arrived. We managed to get out fine, but Y/N--they know--they know about Emmy. They threatened both of you to get to me.”

“She isn’t listed in your personnel file. How could they know?”

“Someone told them; just like someone told them about the mission.”

“Who...who would do that?”

“I don’t know--but I’m gonna find out.”

You eyes quickly filled with tears. Poe handed you the baby and then took your face in his hands, kissing the tears that fell away. You heard him assure you that everything was going to be fine. “How can it be fine? We were so careful to keep Emmy a secret! And now...now...those monsters know...”

Poe wrapped you into his arms, hearing Emmy gurgle, happily. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. My first instinct is to just send you and Emmy away, someplace else, someplace safe, but then... if they found out about the baby...they’re gonna find out where I sent you.”

Emmy cooed--a common response she had to Poe’s voice--and her little hand reach out to touch his cheek. You swallowed the sour taste in your mouth. “We’re, we’re in the safest place, Poe--the Resistance is the safest place. Even if we went back to the Republic, even if we went to stay with your dad--this is the safest place.”

“For now it is,” he said, softly. “Remember your promise to me?”

“Yes,” you answered, holding the baby closer, “I remember.”

“Good.” Poe’s lips pressed to your temple. “I’m holding you to it.”

“I know.” A sigh left your lips and you leaned into him. “I know.”

Poe stepped back, his thumb stroking across your cheek in a loving gesture. He hadn’t forgotten his promise to you either; even the silent one of keeping you safe. “I’m gonna find out who leaked the information, sweetheart.”

You simply nodded. “I know you will, Poe. No one is as stubborn and determined as you when you put your mind to something.” Suddenly, you recalled how protective he could be when you had been dating--a few other cadets had ended up with black eyes. “Don’t kill them.”

BB-8 whistled in agreement with you. Poe shot both of you a look. “If that is the only way to protect my family--I’m not going to hesitate.”

“And what if the person is a friend?”

“None of our friends would betray us like this.”

Glancing at the baby, you thought about his idealistic look at the galaxy. You didn’t share that--you had seen the dark side of the galaxy at such a young age that there was never a chance to develop ideals. “Are you hungry? Before you came in, Emmy and I were going to go to the mess hall for dinner.”

Poe rubbed his hands over his face. “Yeah... let me get out of this flight suit and wash up a bit.”

You could see the tension in his shoulders as he moved towards the refresher. It broke you heart how much weight he was carrying around. “Poe.” He stopped and looked at you, softly. “It’s going to be okay.”

-------

A few days later it was your squadron sent out on a mission. Poe had thought about ordering you to stay but then realized what a bad idea that was. Instead, he had seen you off on the flight pad with the baby, with the promise that him and Emmy would be there waiting to great you when you returned.

Despite you being away, Poe still had responsibilities to attend too. And he was trusting no one take Emmy while he tended to those duties. She became a permanent fixture in briefings, sitting in his lap and laughing at inappropriate times. No one minded, in fact they thought she was quite adorable.

Poe shuffled each briefing along as best he could. And then he would go straight to communications to see if they had heard from you.

“Nothing yet today, sir,” the operator replied.

“You’ll let me know if you hear from her?” Poe asked.

“Yes sir.”

“Emmy and I are going for a walk.”

“Sir?”

“Use my comm, if she calls.”

Nodding, the operator got back to work, and Poe proceeded up to the flight pad. BB-8 followed behind, asking where they were going. The pilot smiled at the baby girl in his arms. “I think it’s time to show Emmy the lake, wouldn’t you agree Bee?”

Emmy smiled at the little droid when he beeped in excitement. Poe felt his heart warm seeing that smile. His daughter was enamored with BB-8. There were even a few instances where the droid had distracted Emmy enough to stop her crying while she was teething.

Poe carefully walked the path towards the lake. It was spot that he often visited with you prior to the baby being born. The calm of the lake always seemed to put everything into perspective.

“Here we go,” he said, as they got to the shore. “Want to put your toes in?”

The baby kicked her legs and cooed. Poe chuckled, removed her little boots and socks, and then with great care, dipped Emmy’s feet in the water. She squealed and pulled her feet up immediately, but he second time he dipped them in, she laughed and kick her feet about.

For the next several minutes, Poe could forget about all his worries in the galaxy and bask in the joy of watching his daughter discover the lake for the first time. Her curious little eyes soaked it all in, her feet rapidly moved among the gentle ripples and she laughed when BB-8 got a little water on him.

But the joy only lasted for a bit. His comm link went off, calling him back to base. Poe grabbed the baby’s boots and socks, and with BB-8 rolling behind him, he proceeded back to the flight pad.

Snap didn’t need to meet him to tell him that something was wrong. Poe could clearly see the pair of x-wings on the tarmac, smoke billowing from the engines--one of them was yours.

“Where’s Y/N?” Poe snapped.

“Poe listen--before you go storming the base,” Snap started.

“Snap. Where’s my wife.”

“They rushed her to the med bay.”

Poe felt a fire burn in his stomach. “Was it the First Order?”

Snap nodded. “Yeah; it was.”

“Terex?”

“Not sure; no one was able to talk to Y/N yet.”

Emmy whined, reminded Poe that he was still holding her. He gently rubbed her back to reassure her. “I’m going to find out who told him about my wife’s mission, Snap.”

Snap frowned, having seen that look in Poe’s eyes before. “And do what?”

Poe ground his teeth. “Make them pay.”

#my writing #star wars #star wars imagine #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x female reader #all for you #200 followers celebration

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barbasbodaciousbeard · 4 years ago

Text

If You Love Someone, Let Them Go: Part 4

Summary: Since starting with SVU, Sonny hadn’t kept much terribly close to the chest. The squad knew about his family, growing up on Staten Island, the classes at Fordam. What was hidden was why he didn’t date. Sonny Carisi was also separated from his childhood sweetheart, a separation neither ever took to divorce. They had the same haunts. They’d grown up neighbors. Their paths crossed every few months, and divorce talks would turn into reminiscing would turn into a night spent together, sometimes sex sometimes just talking until the early morning. It always ended with one of them waking up alone however. How will that change when the squad finds out?

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Original Character

A/N: The babies. I’ve outlined like eight chapters at least, so I think this thing’s just going to go until I run out of steam. So here’s a third part already. Also, I threw up a pinned post masterlist to throw my AO3 links on

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

November 2014

Victoria had gone to her mom’s house, the one by the Carisi’s, for Thanksgiving, but she should have known better than to think that she’d be there. Housekeepers kept the place up, but Irene hadn’t been around much since her daughter was seventeen. She hadn’t been there the year before for Victoria’s first set of holidays alone, and she wasn’t this year either. The year before, Victoria had made the rounds between childhood friends. Rachel would normally be who she went to now that she was coming to terms with the possibility of an actual divorce. She said she was coming to terms with it a lot for someone who just avoided the subject entirely and cried in Sonny’s Fordham sweatshirt at least two nights a week. Coming to her mom’s house when the childhood friends from the year before were at their significant other’s families’ houses was not her best idea when it meant she could hear the bustle of activity at the Carisi’s house.

“Bella?” she said softly when she answered the knock at her door. It was late, and she’d heard everyone start to wind down and broken out the wine.

“Hey Tori. I know coming over ain’t exactly an option, but I snuck you a plate. And a bottle of wine from their stockpile.” Victoria motioned for her to come in, watching her unload a bag onto the kitchen counter.

“That’s really sweet of you.”

“I wanted to make sure you ate good. You’re getting awful skinny for a baker.”

“Ain’t got Sonny making spaghetti like three nights a week.”

“He’s getting skinny without the endless supply of cannoli. Maybe you oughta come over and reconcile.”

“Bella, he knows what he has to do for us to be okay. I wouldn’t care if it weren’t for the fact whatever he needs to talk to me about made him push me away.”

“At least say hi before the end of tomorrow? He’s got the sad puppy eyes, watching your house.”

“We’ll see.” Bella said her goodbyes, and Victoria opened the second bottle of wine, settling on the porch. She saw Sonny making his way over a half hour later, sighing as she downed the end of the glass.

“Bella send ya?” she called, bundled up in the blanket she’d brought out.

“Just said you were here. Heard you pop the cork and needed a break. Besides, you shouldn’t be alone on the holiday.””

“Nosy neighbor, huh?”

“The sound really echoes between these houses. I’d have invited you, but Ma…”

“It’s okay, Dom. You free all weekend? Or they got you working?”

“I’m not Staten Island anymore,” he said proudly. He’d been drinking too, which made it easier for both of them.

“Where are you now?”

“Manhattan SVU.”

“You made it?” Her voice was ecstatic, and he grinned when she jumped from the porch swing to hug him close. “I’m so proud of you, Dom.”

“Thanks, Tor. It’s only been three months, but I think it’s the right place. I feel like I’m really doin’ something, y’know?”

“Yeah. And you’re such a good guy, y’know? I bet victims feel comfortable.”

“That means more than I can tell you.”

“Want a glass of your mom’s wine to celebrate?”

“I’ll grab the second glass.” Before she could stop him, he went in, coming back and dropping on the swing beside her. She poured them each a glass, head resting on his shoulder as she sipped her own. It was quiet, and she wanted to get at least this long to be close to him. The hope from Teresa’s wedding wasn’t there. This would just be an evening, and he’d go home.

“How’s classes?”

“They’ve been good. I take finals next week.”

“Halfway through,” she grinned up at him as he took a share of the blanket.

“And, I don’t know how else to bring it up, but I’m working on figuring out how to talk about how I felt. It’s like my brain disconnects when I try. I said it to my new boss, and I went to therapy. Apparently it sounded heavy.”

“I appreciate that, Dom. I know that isn’t easy for you.”

“Don’t tell nobody. Ma’s not happy about it.”

“I won’t. Spousal privilege.”

“Now we really can’t get divorced.”

“You’re not wearing your ring.” His hand slid into his hoodie, pulling out a chain with the gold band on it.

“Yours is on your right hand.”

“It’s just hard to explain.”

“I know. The squad doesn’t know yet. I’m already trying to be the new guy. Saying I won’t divorce my wife even though I only see her ever four to six months because I truly believe she’s made for me and I love her? Way too much to unpack.”

“We hired new people. Hard to seem like the boss with her shit together when you ain’t lived with your husband in over a year.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“You’re confident.”

“You’re not?”

“I’m scared you won’t trust me to tell me.”

“It’s not about trust, Tor. I know it’s a lot, but trust me on this. It’s not about you.”

“Okay,” she nodded, taking his hand. “You’ve been really open with me tonight. So I’m willing to believe you.”

“Thanks, doll. I’m going to tell the squad about you. That’s step one. Then I’m going to get my head out of my ass.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, arm slung around her. It felt weird knowing there were people in his life who didn’t know she existed. It bothered him too. He didn’t know how to go into everything. Whenever he talked to his mom or Gina, it ended with him crying, telling them that he knew God had made them for each other, and he’d ruined it all with his free will. He wasn’t ready to be that vulnerable. Telling them what he couldn’t tell his family was one thing; they saw the same thing, day in and day out. He couldn’t taint them. He could make himself seem broken, some newbie who couldn’t tell a woman he’d been with a decade how cases made him feel.

“Do I have to go home or can I just hold you tonight?”

“I’m not up for analyzing things tomorrow. Limbo isn’t changing until you can tell me..”

“That’s okay with me, doll.”

“Then okay. I’m eating the slice of pie Bella brought over first.”

“Of course that’s fine,” he chuckled. “I had t’loosen my belt. Had like a quarter of the pie myself.”

“So there was pumpkin. You just ate it,” she teased, leading him in. The house looked the same as it had when they were kids. Once they got married, they never really spent time there, always going to his family’s house, and Victoria’s mom coming if she felt like it. Now that he worked with SVU, he remembered how often she was alone as a kid and felt grateful it was his family that lived next door. That could have ended very differently for her. He’d tell her about that when the damn finally burst. She plated her pie, tupperware stacked in the fridge, before she leaned over the counter and took a bite.

“Chocolate bourbon pecan. The one you taught her.” He missed that part of the holiday the most. This was the second Thanksgiving he didn’t get to watch Victoria carefully teach his mom a new dessert. She gathered new recipes all year round, spreading them out to narrow down which she’d get the ingredients for the weekend before Thanksgiving. Sonny would usually make lasagna that day, listening as she described the pros and cons of each option and offering his opinion when prompted.

“She did it perfect.”

“Nah. Your crust is better. You ever gonna tell the secret?”

“Not a chance. Gotta keep my edge. You think she’s ever going to tell the secret ingredient to her cannoli filling?”

“Noted.” He dropped onto the stool on the other side of the counter, chin propped in his hand. It had taken a couple more beers than he should have had to come over, and now with the wine, Sonny had the sleepy eyes and goofy grin that gave it away.

“You’re drunk.”

“Just tipsy.”

“No gettin’ handsy, Sonny.”

“Promise. I’m a good boy.”

“Mhm,” she laughed, holding out a bite of pie he took gladly. “We’re going to have to get you to bed soon. Otherwise, you’ll get grumpy.”

“You make me sound like a toddler.”

“Only when you’ve been drinking.”

“Y’know, I’m a detective now. If I hadn’t fucked up, we might be down that road.”

“Dom, we’re so far from kids right now.”

“Let me be drunk and sentimental.”

“I thought you weren’t drunk.”

“Fine, I’m drunk.”

“I appreciate the honesty,” she grinned, putting the plate in the drying rack. “I bet you still got a pair of sweats in my room from high school.”

“Lucky me.” She led him upstairs, digging them out of the dresser and tossing them to him. When he caught them, he was prouder than he should’ve been, stripping his jeans off and pulling them on. Victoria hadn’t taken her pajamas off that day, climbing into the bed. Sonny belly flopped next to her, and she pulled her knees up, laughing loudly. With a grin, he settled the blanket over them and flung an arm over her. Maybe he was taking advantage of the excuse drinking gave him, but he liked hearing her laugh. Sonny Carisi was still a gentleman though, and he was careful to keep his arm on her stomach and his hands on her ribs. This visit was more delicate than the wedding. Memories probably still helped; they were in her teenage room after all. His parents were always home, and her mom wasn’t.

“Whatcha thinking?” Victoria asked gently, hand smoothing over his hair.

“I miss this.”

“Staten Island?”

“Watching you eat pie when I’m drunk and staring at ya.”

“You’re sappy. Get some sleep.”

“If I go to sleep, it’s over sooner.” She smoothed his hair back gently, smiling as she pressed a kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes and hummed, and Victoria thought describing Sonny as a puppy seemed even more apt. He was curling against her, pleased at the attention as she scratched his scalp. WHen they were kids, he’d always said If I go to sleep, it’s over sooner with excitement as they waited on vacations or holiday mornings. He’d said it sadly tonight. She didn’t like that. The more times she saw him, the more tempted she was not to wait it out and come home. So what if she had to worry he’d pull away again?

It mattered because she had to remember how she felt. Waiting at home all those months, fighting him, begging for something to prove he wanted her there. Victoria couldn’t do it again, but she also couldn’t picture turning thirty without Sonny. Having a kid without him. Sitting on a porch with some other guy. After a while, soft snoring alerted her that he’d fallen asleep, arm still flung over her and his head on her shoulder. Her cheek rested against the top of his head as she tried to memorize what this felt like again.

He’d met a therapist. That was what made it feel more like there might be a conclusion to the separation. Before tonight, she’d accepted this weird limbo may be permanent. Despite the mentions of divorce, she knew neither of them would do it. Therapy wasn’t something Sonny’s family valued, and he’d always been resistant to the concept for himself. When Victoria went, he was supportive and recognized the good it did her, but his father had always demeaned it, and that stuck with him. That wasn’t a problem before when Victoria could weasel the problem out of him. He didn’t think he was in the wrong before, but it seemed whatever was wrong was something he realized was too big for him. It didn’t bother her that she couldn’t fix it for him; she was just glad he was accepting help somewhere.

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but Sonny was gone when she woke. Her first response was panic, that maybe how they left things the morning after the wedding meant he’d opted for the same response as the first time and gone home before she woke up. Her mind stopped racing, however, when she realized she could smell coffee and bacon wafting through the door. She slipped out of bed, finding him in the kitchen with his hair askew as he flipped a pancake.

“Mornin’ doll,” he smiled shyly, pouring coffee and sliding the mug to her. It seemed like he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be there, and she supposed she didn’t know if he should be or not. “I got some time before I have to go to the precinct, so I figured I’d make you pancakes.”

“Thanks, Dom.” She pressed a kiss to his temple. “Ain’t Ma going to be mad?”

“She can deal with it. She had me all day yesterday. I know I ain’t ready to tell you what you need me to, but I want to leave on a good note. Prove I’m really trying.” Victoria set her coffee back on the counter, arms sliding around him as she pressed her cheek to his back. His free hand rested where hers clasped as he flipped another pancake.

“That means a lot, Dom.”

“You felt like I didn’t want you with me. Leaving when you’re asleep or pressuring you won’t help. You told me what to do, and all I can do is prove I want you while I work on doing it. If you love somebody, let ‘em go. If it’s meant to be, they’ll come back. And it’s meant to be, Tor. Ordained by the big guy.”

“You really believe that?”

“Believe it? I know it, doll.”

“You know I do love you?”

“I know. And I do love you. We just never had to communicate before.”

“How dare we develop real problems in our twenties?”

“Right? What chumps.”

“Should we go to therapy together?”

“I’m not ready yet, Tor. But I think it would be a good idea when I am.”

“Me too,” she said, squeezing him before she let go. “I can see you’re trying.”

“I’m just glad you ain’t mad I haven’t told the new squad yet.”

“It’s super complicated. I understand.”

“Yeah. I’m still growing on them. I don’t want to seem like I’ve got a lot of drama too. Because weirdly, we’re low to no drama. But ‘Yeah, I’m married and we see each other for a day every few months while we try to figure out how to talk’ sounds bad.”

“Only a little,” she laughed, taking their plates to the table as he refilled the coffee. They ate happily, Victoria kissing him softly when he left to get dressed for work back at his mom’s house. Gianna Carisi was in the yard, shooting them a disapproving look. He shook his head at her, ushering the woman inside before she could try to talk to Victoria. Sonny understood his mom’s stance: her son could do no wrong. In reality, they had both done wrong. Victoria should have told him how she was feeling before they were in too deep, and he shouldn’t have waited so long to process what he saw on the job.

“Ma, you leave my wife alone.”

“You’re not acting married. You’re acting like acquaintances that get lucky sometimes.”

“And you’re not helping my chances of fixing things.”

“Dominick, it’s been over a year.”

“And I’m finally getting off my ass, going to therapy, and trying to work with Tor.”

“You don’t need therapy, Dom. Just man up, like your father.”

“I do. And it’s helpin’ and I just got to spend a night and morning with Victoria with no fighting. That’s a step in the right direction.”

Tag list: @fear-less-write-more

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi x oc #svu #law and order special victims unit #writing

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suttttton · 4 years ago

Text

Elias Bouchard vs. Destiny

Febuwhump, Day 4 (alternate): Identity Reveal

***

Working at the Magnus Institute is… surprisingly normal.

At best, Elias expects to see his own terror reflected in his coworkers’ eyes. At worst, he fears they will all be like Wright, their eyes cold and monstrous and hungry. He expects to be brought into a world of darkness, to face true monsters that ordinary people never imagined existed.

Were you drawn here? Against your will?—

Instead, his job is just… paperwork. Spooky paperwork, sure, but still paperwork. He talks to a lot of people on the phone, most of whom admit that the statement they gave was just a prank or a dare or whatever. Even the people who genuinely believe their experiences were real seem… more than a little unhinged.

“It saw me through the pages, it’s coming”—

He avoids James Wright, of course. It isn’t difficult. Wright spends most of his time in his office on the third floor, only occasionally coming down to visit Research. When that happens, it’s easy enough for Elias to excuse himself for a smoke break, avoiding Wright’s eyes the entire way. Elias doesn’t understand why his coworkers don’t do the same, although he imagines it would get very crowded in the alley behind the Institute if all of Research tried to take a smoke break at once.

The first time he sees his line manager return from a meeting with Wright, Elias watches her very closely, looking for… unease. Fear. Anything to reflect the way he feels whenever he so much as catches a glimpse of Wright in the halls.

She notices him looking, and smiles at him. No sign of distress in her whatsoever.

Elias returns to his work, but the moment sticks with him. She’d just spent thirty minutes having a meeting with a monster, and she isn’t the slightest bit disturbed.

Have you ever had an experience that you would consider supernatural?—

They don’t know.

All of these people who work here, who interact with Wright every day, and none of them know. Elias is the only one who sees it. Elias is… different.

Elias doesn’t get much work done, that day.

***

Two months later, Elias’s line manager informs him that he has a performance review scheduled with Mr. Wright.

His mouth is dry. “But—I thought you did my performance reviews.” He tries for a smile, but it��s weak.

“Mr. Wright likes to do an in-person review with everyone at the end of every quarter,” she says. She notices the look on his face, and softens slightly. “It’s no big deal. They usually only take five minutes or so. He just goes over the reviews I submitted, and asks if there’s anything he can do to improve your experience here.” She rolls her eyes. “Standard management stuff.”

“Okay,” Elias says, his voice faint. He has to go into that office again? Sit across from the thing that looks out from behind James Wright’s eyes, and just—what? Pretend he isn’t terrified?

Allan’s lifeless body—

What did they do with his eyes?—

“He won’t fire you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” his line manager says. Her voice is gentle, very different from the thinly-veiled annoyance she usually addresses him with. “Wright hasn’t fired anyone the whole time I’ve been here, and your reviews are fine. You’ll be okay.”

“Right,” Elias manages.

The day of the review, Elias seriously considers going to work high.

He decides against it. Wright would know, and then he’d smile and ask Elias some question that he isn’t prepared for, that no one would be prepared for.

What are you afraid of? A very sensible fear—

Elias wonders what would happen if he just—skipped the review. It would be rescheduled, probably. He could skip it again, obviously, but he isn’t sure Wright would tolerate a farce like that for very long.

So, at 2:00pm, he climbs the stairs to Wright’s office. By now, his terror has faded to a blank numbness, an acceptance that he can’t stop whatever is about to happen. He almost feels like laughing.

“Do you enjoy your work here?” Wright asks, after he’s seated and the little introductions are complete.

“Yes,” Elias says, and it isn’t even a lie. He does enjoy the work. He enjoys the variety involved in followup, enjoys chatting with total strangers on the phone. He gets along with his coworkers, and even his line manager is more tolerable than other bosses he’s had. He’d be planning his career here, if not for James Wright’s unfortunate presence. As it is, he’s just trying to survive each day.

“Is there anything about working here that you… hate?”

Elias is not going to tell James Wright that he hates him. He’s not. That’s clearly what Wright wants, leering at him as he is, but Elias refuses to engage with these games.

“Uh—The commute,” Elias says. “It’s a bit far from my flat, and taking the tube every day isn’t exactly the height of luxury.”

“Yes, I’d imagine it would be difficult for you, dealing with the unwashed masses every day.” Wright is still smiling in that cold, slightly-bored way of his. Like what he’s just said is a normal sentence, and not—

“So many gifts, and you’ve squandered them all”—

“What?” Elias’s voice is soft now.

“Do you miss the luxury?” Wright asks, his smile curling up into something more vicious, and Elias—

“Enough! Your friend died in a tragic murder, and it’s well past time you accepted that!”—

No, no, Allan knew what was going to happen, he told me—

“You had a bad drug trip. That’s all.”—

It wasn’t—I didn’t imagine this, there was a book and—

Elias gasps, suddenly back in the present. Wright’s expression is exactly the same. Elias is trembling. This shouldn’t—Wright shouldn’t be able to—What do these questions have to do with his performance?

“Are we done here?” Elias manages, his voice soft to hide its shaking.

“Not quite,” Wright says brightly. “There’s still the matter of your past reviews.” Elias’ review forms are stacked on Wright’s desk, and Wright picks them up, flicking through them. “In general, Lydia’s feedback is very positive, but there are a few concerning things here. You chronically miss deadlines, and on a few of your cases you’ve neglected to follow very promising leads.”

“I’ll try to do better.” Elias’ voice is flat, toneless. The numbness is returning.

“See that you do,” Wright says. “I hope to see improvement by next quarter.”

Elias nods.

What are they doing to his eyes?—

Wright dismisses him, and he makes his way back downstairs. He should return to his desk, return to his caseload that he’s been largely ignoring in favor of panicking about his review.

But he—can’t.

He goes to the alley instead, lights a cigarette with trembling hands. His shaky legs won’t hold him, even when he leans against the wall, so he ends up sitting on the ground.

The first sob forces its way up his throat, and then—he’s crying.

Sobbing on the filthy ground in the alley behind his less-than-respectable workplace. Pathetic. What would Father say?

Probably, “Elias, I’ll be happy to talk to you once you get help for your drug addiction.” Christ.

While he cries, Elias tries to think of what to do. He could quit, he supposes. But he really does need this job. His bank account had been full when his parents first cut him off, and there were provisions in the trust to provide for his needs when he was still in school. Now, though, his money really is running concerningly low. He needs the paycheck.

His tears are just starting to slow when the door opens. Elias starts, turns his face away, trying to hide the fact that he’s crying while hiding from his job.

“Oh—sorry,” she says. Elias recognizes the voice, they work together in Research. He can’t quite remember her name—Megan, maybe? “I can go, if you want some privacy.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he says, and his voice wobbles. If she didn’t already know he’d been crying, she definitely does now.

She sits down on the step just outside the door. “Um—are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine.”

“Right. Yeah, I also like to come out here and cry when I’m feeling fine,” she says, her voice light with humor.

Elias smiles slightly, and wipes some of the wetness from his face. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

“I’m all ears,” she says. “Unless you really don’t want to talk about it, in which case, keep your secrets.”

Elias doesn’t respond to that. Doesn’t know how to reply, really. It would be nice, to talk to someone about it, but—It seems cruel, to force someone else into this mess. If she even believed him.

“I just—” She takes a deep breath. “Okay, this is going to sound really weird, but… We look after each other, in Research. A lot of the people who work here don’t really have support networks in our personal lives—ghost stories attract lonely people, I guess—so we try to support each other. So… if you need someone to talk to about this, you can talk to me.

Elias takes a breath. Might as well try. “Have you—noticed anything… off, about Wright?”

“Oh, you mean his whole mind-reading thing? Sure,” she says. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t take a moment to consider.

“I—yes,” Elias says, a little unbalanced. She knew? “The way he—drags up all your worst memories.”

“Oh yeah, he’s like that,” she says, wincing. “Did you just have your first performance review? Those can be kind of intense.”

He nods, uncertainly. She’s talking about this as if it’s completely normal.

“You’ll get used to it eventually,” she says. “In research, we like to make jokes about it. She wiggles her fingers at him. “'Ooh, I know everything about you,’” she says mockingly, pitching her voice down.

Elias doesn’t laugh. Just stares. “Aren’t you afraid of him?”

She laughs, really laughs, like it’s the funniest thing she’s ever heard. “What’s he gonna do, fire me? No. Why would I be afraid of him?” Then she sobers. “Are you afraid of him?”

Something sinks in Elias’s chest. He’d assumed that they didn’t know, that Elias was unique in being able to see Wright’s monstrous nature.

Turns out he’s just unique in being frightened by it.

He shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Just—had a bad performance review.”

She nods in commiseration, and he excuses himself not long after. Returns to his desk, his heart loud in his ears. He looks around at his co-workers, all of them so happy, so careless. Why aren’t they afraid?

Why did you heed the call?—

He doesn’t know.

He can’t trust them.

***

He asks to be transferred to Artifact Storage, and his request is accepted, albeit with some strange looks. No one requests to go to Artifact Storage.

For him, it’s infinitely preferable to Research. The monsters in Artifact Storage are acknowledged, for one. Feared, treated with caution. Not allowed to run a so-called research institute. Not joked about. For two, the turnover rate is so high that he won’t have to deal with pretend camaraderie. He knows, now, that he can’t trust any of these people. He’s on his own.

For four years, he does his work, cataloging dangerous artifacts, sending the more junior assistants to do the more dangerous tasks. He doesn’t try to be good at his job, he doesn’t want to be good at his job, but after years of working in Artifact Storage, he is by far the most senior member of the staff. He starts to pick up a few tricks. He becomes knowledgeable. People respect him.

His line manager says he’s looking to transfer to the Library, and asks if Elias would like to be recommended for the promotion. Does he want to be Head of Artifact Storage?

He should say no, but some part of him that never quite managed to kill its ambition answers for him. “I’d be honored,” he says.

***

Meetings with Wright never get easier. In four years, he manages to drag up everything Elias would rather keep hidden, everything he doesn’t want to think about. Allan is a popular subject, as are his parents. And there’s always—

He cannot move. He cannot scream. What are they doing to his eyes?—

Elias doesn’t get used to it, and when Wright schedules a meeting with him to discuss his forthcoming promotion, Elias dreads it just as much as that very first performance review.

“I am very impressed with your progress,” Wright says, steepling his fingers over his desk.

“Thank you,” Elias says.

“Nearly five years in Artifact Storage,” Wright says. “I wouldn’t have guessed it, but perhaps I should have. You’re not a brave man by any means, but what does that matter, when you’re running from the most frightening thing you can imagine?”

What are they doing to his eyes?—

Elias swallows. There’s something heavy in the air. He always feels watched, in the Institute, in Wright’s office, but this is—different, somehow. Closer.

“If you were more curious, you actually might have guessed it. If you’d looked into the history of the Institute, investigated the men who preceded me in this position. You might have noticed certain similarities. You’re smart enough to have put the pieces together, but alas.”

—squandered—

“You never were the curious sort, were you? You were more interested in self-preservation than answers. Keeping your distance from anyone who might drag you away from your… destiny.”

Wright stands, and Elias flinches. “I-I don’t—” This is wrong. Something is wrong.

This is the place I know I should be—

But—

“What did you imagine was calling you here?” Wright says, and now he’s close, too close, towering over him. Elias wants to stand, want to retreat, but he doesn’t—He can’t move—

Wright places his hands on the two arms of Jonah’s chair, trapping him. Elias shrinks back, as far as he can get. “Did you think it was something noble, that you were destined to be a hero of light, to put an end to the sickness of this place? You would drive a knife into my eyes, killing the monster and setting everyone free?”

He doesn’t know what he thought. He thought he was destined for something better, to be something more than other people.

“You will be,” Wright says, leaning over him, too close. “Have you figured it out yet?”

He shakes his head wordlessly, a sob gasping from his throat.

Wright smiles. “James Wright didn’t either.”

***

When the thing that now controls his body takes over the Magnus Institute, they all think, nepotism at its finest.

Elias understands why he’s here, now. Understands the thing that called him here. Understands the many paths he could have taken, to reach a different end. Too late.

Elias’ eyes are carved out of his still-breathing body, and the Eye feasts on latent terror, cultivated so perfectly, for so long.

Elias is replaced, and no one misses him. He himself ensured that no one who worked with him knew anything about him. And everyone else is dead already.

James Wright is discarded. Elias Bouchard is taken.

Jonah Magnus lives on.

#tma #tma fic #tma spoilers #mag 193 #hey i wrote an episode fic! exciting!#febuwhump #febuwhumpday4 #scopophobia cw #manipulation cw #parents cw #my fic #fun fact! i had to write the first ~1500 words of this TWICE because my computer crashed and lost everything

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gloomybabygirl · 4 years ago

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{finally} Poe Dameron x Reader

A/N: hi writers block how are ya??? okay so i have several fics that are WIP rn and I keep starting them and not being able to finish because they need to be mini series!! so today i told myself i needed to get something complete out or i’d burst and here it is lol. also I use a random name in here, i’m so sorry if it’s your name!!

A/N again: tag list is open!! message me if you want to be on my little drabble tag list :)

Warnings: language, alcohol, pining, some angst, friends to lovers trope that I can’t get away from, mentions of sex, THIS WON’T BE EDITED TILL TOMORROW MORNING

World Count: 2600 oops

Summary: You get drunk and Poe takes care of you

The music was blaring through the speakers at the local Cantina, the lights somehow blinding you with their flashing but not bright enough for you to see who you were grinding on.

Hey, it was okay to let loose sometimes, right? Being at war is stressful and occasionally you would allow yourself one or two drinks at the Cantina with your friends. But your friends left you hours ago. And you had way more than 2 drinks. You were now on the dance floor with another drink and no shoes on, dancing with someone who’s face you couldn’t properly make out. Was it because of the light or the alcohol? Probably both.

You finally sat back down at the table when the alien you were dancing with got mad because you spilled your drink on him. But you weren’t about to let that kill your buzz. How did you get up on the table? Doesn’t matter, you were here now. Arms snaking above your head and hips moving in what you imagined was a provocative way. You felt a tap on your bare foot and looked down to see an angry looking security guard.

“Miss, we need you to get down off the table now.” He held out his hand to help you down.

You slumped down in your booth. “You guys ruin all the fun.”

“We’re closing here in about 10 minutes. Are you going to be able to get back home safely?” He asked.

Shit. You had only been on this planet a few days as the base had recently moved there. This was everyone’s first night at the Cantina and you were too many drinks in to know how to get back to base on your own.

You must have looked confused because the security guard offered you an old communicator. “You have someone who can come pick you up?”

You bit your lip. You knew Jess or Kare could pick you up but they wouldn’t be happy about it. You slowly dialed the only person who wouldn’t be mad, taking your time to make sure you entered the right ID.

“Poe?” You asked into the phone when it stopped ringing.

“Yeah baby? Where are you?” You felt your heart leap out of your chest. You loved it when he called you baby. Even if you two weren’t exactly official. And you were pretty positive he had brought another girl home that night. Things were... complicated. You wanted so badly to tell Poe how much you cared about him and how you wanted to be his, but you were certain that wasn’t what he wanted. So, you took what you could get. Occasional sex in a storage closet accompanied by his friendship sprinkled with holding hard in secret and stolen forehead and nose kisses.

“I’m still at the Cantina and I don’t remember how to get back to base. Can you come get me?” You really hoped he wasn’t with another girl.

You heard laughing on the other end.

“I’ll see you in ten minutes drunkie.” You heard the line click and felt a smile creep up on your face as you handed the communicator back to the security guard. At least he wasn’t mad. You felt yourself sway in your seat to the next song that came on and got up to dance.

Ten minutes later, you felt someone grab your hips and start dancing with you.

“How many drinks have you had baby? I’ve never seen you dance like this.” You heard Poe’s voice in your ear and his breath on your shoulder sent shivers down your spine.

“Not sure at this point. Want to see how I was dancing before you came?” You spun around and started walking towards your table, climbing onto it again.

As soon as you started dancing again your felt Poe reach up to grab your hand. You looked down at his beautiful worried face.

“Hey, hey get down from there, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” He pulled you down towards him and you leaned in to kiss him, hard.

“Fine, but only because you’re a good kisser.” You laughed as he helped you down.

“Um, where are your shoes?” Poe asked, looking down at your bare feet, sore from dancing.

“I- uh... Don’t remember? I may have given them to some creep for 20 credits.”

“Maker, you’re wasted. Okay, let’s go back to base.” He reached around your legs and lifted you up into his arms, your arms automatically going around his neck as he walked out of the Cantina into the cold air.

You nuzzled in closer to his neck, deeply breathing in his scent, not at all concerned that you were definitely being a creep.

“You smell good,” you said into his neck, making him laugh at you.

“You’re funny when your drunk.”

Suddenly you didn’t feel like laughing anymore. “Poe?” you asked, looking at him now.

“Yeah baby?” He cocked an eyebrow at you, already smiling, more than ready to hear what drunk you had to say next.

“Where you with another girl tonight? I saw you flirting with that new recruit all night.”

He didn’t drop his smile, but his eyes softened at your question. Of course he hadn’t slept with another girl tonight. He hadn’t slept with another girl in months. Not since he realized he was in love with his best friend. And for Poe, being in love in the middle of a war was less than ideal. Meaningless sex was one thing. Having someone he loved waiting for him to come home when he might not make it? That was another thing entirely. He was already mad enough at himself for getting so close to you and Finn in the first place. Although, he wasn’t in love with Finn.

“No baby, I went back to my quarters alone.”

“Oh. I thought you would have banged her. She’s prettier than some of the other girls you bring home.”

Ouch. Is that what she thinks? I just sleep with everyone? My own damn fault for giving her that impression.

“Not as pretty as you though,” he glanced at you to see your reaction, which was to bury your face in the crook of his neck. He could say that because you wouldn’t remember in the morning, right?

He finally made it to the hallway leading to his quarters.

“In fact, to prove it, want to have a sleepover tonight? Don’t worry, I’m not taking advantage of your drunkenness. No sex, I promise.” He was dumb to have started having sex with you in the first place. He couldn’t help it though, his feelings for you were so strong he needed to express them somehow.

“Sleepover!” You giggled, making his heart swell.

You loved when Poe asked you to sleep in his room or vise versa. Usually it meant sex which was always incredible, followed by sleeping in his arms. That was the best part about the arrangement. He let you stay in his arms all night, stroking his fingers through your hair and using his other hand to keep you securely pressed to him.

He opened the door to his quarters and laid you down on the bed before going to grab you a shirt to sleep in. He tossed it at your face when he found it.

He fucking loved seeing you in his shirts. Especially when you had just woken up in his arms, hair messy, eyes bleary with sleep. He’d give you every shirt he owned if it didn’t mean facing the General half naked. He watched, not so bashfully (or discreetly), as you stripped down and slipped on his shirt.

“Are you gonna stand there staring all night or are you coming to bed?” You asked, knowing damn well what stripping in front of him was accomplishing.

“Uh, yeah baby just give me one second.” He said rushing into the refresher to splash cold water on his face. Not sleeping with you was going to be harder than he had anticipated.

You laid in Poe’s bed, waiting for him to come back and started looking around his room for a little orange droid, who was charging for the night. While you were sweeping your eyes over the room, you noticed a small slip of paper on Poe’s nightstand. Drunk and shamelessly curious, you let it fall open in your hand.

ID: RS- 4589 v. 909

Camryn <3

You felt your stomach drop. Camryn was the new recruit. So he hadn’t brought her back to his quarters, but he had gotten her Communicator ID. So much for being prettier than her. In your drunken state, you began to cry over that stupid pilot with his stupid beautiful face. Damn him.

Of course he came back before you could wipe your tears away.

“Woah, baby what’s wrong? What happened?” He came to sit next to you on the bed, but you moved away, pushing him off before he could sit down. Hearing him call you ‘baby’ made everything sting so much more. Why did he have to call you pet names and be so sweet? Did he want to make you want him? Was this all just some stupid game? Did he even care about you at all?

That’s when it hit you. He didn’t care about you. How could he? If he cared about you, he wouldn’t just fuck you when it was convenient for him and then act like best buddies in the mess hall the next day. He wouldn’t call you ‘baby’ knowing it makes you think there could be something more, when there would never be. He wouldn’t keep you on the line by holding your hand under the table and kissing you on the forehead and letting you sleep in his room. He only did all of that so you’d keep being an easy go-to fuck buddy. You felt a fresh wave of tears falling hard from your eyes and you got up to leave.

Poe was not about to let that happen. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to him even though you were struggling to get away from him as much as possible.

“Baby, please stay. Let’s talk, what happened, what did I do?” He put every ounce of worry he had in his voice to make you listen and see that he was genuinely concerned.

It worked. You made you way back to his bed and stood in front of it. Bu you didn’t want him to win this game he was playing. You just stood in front of his bed as a new wave of tears hit you. You crumpled to the floor, sobs wracking through your body.

“Oh, baby no, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry. Please, tell me what’s hurting you so I can fix it.” He crouched down and sat in front of you on the floor, holding both your hands in his warm large ones. He waited patiently for your breath to even out until the sobs left you shivering on the floor. He fucking hated seeing you hurting like this. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and collect you in his arms and pull you onto his lap, holding you until you were ready to talk.

You stilled, no fresh tears coming out.

“Why are you crying baby?” He softly whispered.

“Because no one cares about me.” You said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, not meeting his eyes.

Had Poe heard you right? How could you think no one cared about you? He cared about you more than anything in the world. He wanted now more than ever to convey that to you. He stood up, waking away from you a few feet. He couldn’t bare to see you this upset when he could fix it. And couldn’t.

“Poe?” You sweet voice made him turn around, still angry with himself for falling in love with you in the first damn place.

Kriff, you thought he was mad at you. He could tell by the look he had caused on your beautiful face.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just... I saw that Camryn gave you her ID. And... I don’t know I guess I got jealous.” You finished, looking down at your feet.

Oh. Oh. “Kriff. Kriff, kriff, kriff. I’m so stupid.” Poe was tugging at his thick curls and walking around the room in frustration. It hit him that you thought he didn’t care about you because he had spent all this time making sure he didn’t let his feelings show too much. Turns out all he did was lead you on.

“Poe? Why are you mad?” You asked timidly.

He spun on his heel to look at you, “Because I care about you!” he yelled, “So damn much it hurts! And now I’ve hurt you because I was trying to protect you. I never let myself show you how much I care about you because I never wanted it to turn into anything serious. But I did. I really, really did. But I couldn’t let you get too close to me because I can’t stand the thought of someone I love waiting for me to come home from a mission I may not come back from.”

His voice was weak by the end of his explanation. When you started crying again, he crossed the room in two long strides and pulled you onto his lap, cradling your head to his chest and kissing the top of your hair.

“I’m sorry I led you on sweetheart. I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you by trying to protect you. And now I’ve hurt you anyway. I just... I would hate for you to be here waiting for me to come home when I could be captured by the First Order or in a ditch somewhere in the Outer Rim. I could never leave someone I love behind like that.”

You moved to wrap your arms around his neck and look up at him. That was the second time he said ‘love’.

He looked at you with those sweet brown eyes, so full of love and sadness. “But here I am, in love with you and running that risk anyway.” He looked down, not wanting to meet you eyes after confessing his love for you multiple times.

“Poe.” He didn’t look up. “Poe, baby.” You tilted his chin up gently to meet your eyes.

“I don’t care about all that. I deal with the worry of you not making it home already. It’s terrifying, yes. But whatever time we have together, I’d rather spend it loving you properly and worrying if you’ll get home rather than holding back my love for you. And still worrying if you’ll get home. It’s worth it if we can be together, really together, for whatever amount of time we have.”

He looked at you for a second more before dipping his head down to kiss you softly on the lips. He tried to convey every single ounce of love he had for you into the kiss, and you could feel it all the way in your toes.

“So can we be together? Properly now?” you asked, still nervous he would say no.

“Absolutely baby.” He stood up, carrying you with him to bed. He laid you down gently and slid into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you as tightly as possible.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you,” he whispered, kissing your forehead, nose, and both eyes with every declaration of love.

“I love you too, Poe Dameron,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him once more before nuzzling into the crook of his neck and breathing in deeply. His scent got you more drunk than all the alcohol you had that night.

He kissed the crown of your head and whispered, “Finally.” Bringing you impossibly closer to him as you drifted off to the steady beating of his heart.

#poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron one shot #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fic #this was a little different for me!!!#I hope you like it!!

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minghaocouture · 4 years ago

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The Flower Path Grows Thorns: Chapter 3

Pairing: Vampire!Xu Minghao x Human! Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, light Suspense, Non-Idol Au Warnings: Language, mentions of home invasion WC: 4.9K AU Info: Lore Info/ Vampire Coven Info Tag List: @smthingabtlove

A/N: So i restarted this chapter like 4 times because I just didn’t like how it was going. I’m a lot more satisfied with this! Also like to give a shout out to my bro in Discord, Writer Bot. The only reason I wrote this chapter instead of procrastinating it.

Chapter List: One//Two//Three

Jan. 25th, 2021

“So you’re…”

“A Vampire, yes. Should I show you my fangs to prove it?”

The way he watched you, his brown eyes seemed to pierce right to your very core. It was unnerving, and it definitely wasn’t helping how panicked you already were. You had been brought to this bar for safety reasons. At least, that was what that woman-no that vampire, Soonhee, had told you. She said it would be safer in here than it would be out on the streets, or even at your apartment, and it would only get more dangerous for you as night fell.

“No, that’s fine. I’ve already seen enough to believe you,” You murmured, adjusting yourself on the rather stiff twin mattress you were sitting on. Taking a look around, you could tell that this room wasn’t used often. A fine layer of dust coated the furniture and packed boxes were scattered haphazardly around the room, almost as if they had just moved in.

“Pretty lucky that Soonhee found you, huh?” The male mused, Soonhee said that his name was Minghao. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, he probably didn’t even care if you lived or died. So why was he doing this? Why sit around and babysit you when he could be doing...whatever it was that vampires did when they weren’t terrorizing humans.

The silence that followed his question felt like a weight crushing you, but you didn’t know what he wanted you to say. Yes you were lucky? If she hadn’t found you then you would have been dead once the sun set? The thought alone had you shaken to the core. Despite your silence, you refused to look away from the black haired male. The sinking fear that he would attack you lingered, despite Soonhee’s words. You were truly alone here.

“You don’t have to be scared of us.”

If you hadn’t been staring right at him and seen his lips move, you wouldn’t have believed that this man had just spoken to you. Once again, his eyes seemed to examine you taking in every detail of your tensed form.

You don’t really know what came over you, but before you realized it you had stood from the bed. Eyes never leaving his, as your fists clenched in frustration.

“I don’t have to be scared of you?! How can you even say that!?” You knew that this outburst would get you nothing, but you were upset. Your whole world felt like it had been turned upside down. Yet here this man was, a man who only survived by drinking the blood of people like you, telling you that you had nothing to fear. “Just put yourself in my shoes for one second, and then tell me that again. I can’t trust anyone here, for all I know you all could be planning to kill me right now. If that was the plan then guess who wouldn’t know until it’s too late, oh right, that would be me!”

Usually you were a pretty mild tempered person, you didn’t like conflict or yelling at people. This though, this was something entirely different. Right now you were terrified, nothing was certain and that uncertainty, that unknown aspect of this situation was terrifying. Not to mention that you had just found out that species other than humans existed. The stress of the situation was definitely getting to you.

Minghao didn’t seem phased by your outburst, he continued to simply lounge in the rather uncomfortable looking wooden chair. Once again an oppressive silence fell over the room as the two of you locked eyes. After a moment, he leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees with what looked like a smile on his face.

“Feel better?”

You raised a brow at the man, confused by his words before realizing that...yes you did actually feel a tiny bit better. Not great obviously, you were still extremely distressed, but the load seemed to have lightened ever so slightly. Silently, you nodded. His face brightened ever so slightly as he leaned back in the chair once more.

“Holding things like that inside will just make you feel worse,” he explained, almost as if you were a child. Were you a child to him? A silence fell over the room as you stared at him, feeling a bit more at ease now...but only a little bit.

"Follow me."

He didn't bother to wait for an answer from you before he stood from his chair and made his way towards the door. Simply stopping once he grabbed onto the door handle so that he could look back at you, an expectant look on his face. You were practically frozen, the shift in his attitude had you dumbstruck. Unsure of where he was planning on taking you but at the same time you didn't really have any reason to decline, you were already in danger no matter where you were. So you followed after him, down the stairs that you had climbed to enter their living quarters. Taking a right turn at the end of the stairs, entering the double doors that led to the bar.

It wasn't all that crowded tonight, you noticed, it being a Monday night it wasn’t too surprising. You took a moment to look around, watching dancers out of the small designated area looking like they were having the time of their lives, the patrons at the bar, laughing jovially with their friends as they drank their liquor. The loud music thumped and had your heart beating in time with the bass, which was a feeling you weren't used to but one that you didn't hate. Snapping yourself out of your stupor you noticed you were losing Minghao, and quickly made your way over to him as he sat down in front of the bar and gestured for you to do the same.

"You are legal right? We can't afford to lose our liquor license." You nodded, a bit confused as to why he was asking. This certainly wasn't the time to be drinking right?

Apparently you were wrong.

"Hey, Junhui, can you get this one a screwdriver?" He called out, completely disregarding the fact that the male behind the counter was currently in a conversation with a customer. The man in question, Junhui apologized to the woman he was speaking to before he made his way over to Minghao. You assumed that this man was also a member of the coven that Soonhee had spoken to you about, her coven, and it had you wondering how all of their members were so beautiful. You were practically stunned by the blonde behind the bar, his black muscle tee was a little big on him but it hung in all the right ways and he was working those leather pants.

"Thanks for that Hao!" He exclaimed, knowing that he wouldn't be heard over the music. "I thought I would never get away from her, you know how Joy gets when she drinks." Then his attention turned to you and his brows furrowed, obviously confused a bit by your appearance. The way your eyes probably screamed 'i've been crying' definitely was a cause for concern. He glanced back over at Minghao and raised a brow.

"This is Y/N." Was all Minghao gave him and it surprised you and seemed to surprise Junhui as well. The man quickly got to work though, making the requested drink for you before sliding it across the bar.

"So, what brings a little human into the bar and with Minghao no less?" You weren't too sure how to answer that, so you took a sip of the drink. The mix of orange juice and alcohol slid down your throat with ease, it was well mixed, which was something you had issues at with other bars in town. They would always make your drinks far too strong or too weak, this was nice. Before you could think of a proper response, Minghao spoke up again.

"I'm watching her. a favor for Soonhee."

"Soonhee??" His brows furrowed at the name, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "She's still on house arrest? Why couldn't she watch the Y/N herself? Or better yet, why does she need to watch over her in the first place?" The friendly face didn't seem as friendly anymore, obviously something was up. Something that you weren't privy to. This line of questioning had Minghao sighing once again, he seemed to sigh a lot.

"It's a long story, but...she found a stray feeding. Soonhee thinks the stray is gonna come after y/n so she asked me to watch over her tonight while she tried to figure out a plan." Junhui's frown seemed to sink deeper the more Minghao spoke, brows furrowing in frustration. He leaned over the counter, closer to Minghao in an attempt not to be heard and he probably wouldn't have been had you not been sitting right next to Minghao.

"She’s supposed to be on house arrest! We can’t afford for her to start another fight with that wolf pack."

"I gave her permission." Was all Minghao said in response, as if it was just that simple. It was Junhui's turn to sigh now, retreating back behind the counter and running a hand through his sandy brown hair. He gave Minghao a look that said ‘we’ll talk about this later’ before his attention returned to you and he smiled once again, trying to be calm when you knew that he had seemed furious just moments ago.

"Sorry, I'm sure this has been a rough day for you," he began, and you were almost surprised at the soft look held deep within his eyes. He seemed so kind hearted, unlike the other Vampires you had met. Which isn't to say that Soonhee and Minghao were bad but they just seemed a little more...rough around the edges. "Order anything you like, Minghao i'll watch over her. Can you go clean up the storage room so she has a place to sleep? We can't send her home if a stray is hunting her."

Usually you would have immediately rejected the offer, not wanting to bother your hosts. This time was a different story, you certainly didn't feel safe returning home tonight. Your small apartment would do nothing to keep you safe from a Vampire if it decided to attack you.

You watched as a silent debate seemed to begin between the two males, before Minghao relented and stood from his stool. He placed his hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch a bit in surprise.

"Just come back to the room if he gets to be too much." With that, he returned upstairs leaving you alone with this new man. You swallowed deeply, swirling the contents of your glass. As Junhui watched his friend leave, grumbling something under his breath about Minghao and Soonhee but you couldn't quite make anything out. With that, he turned back to you, that same friendly smile on his face.

"Let's try this again. It's nice to meet you y/n. I'm Junhui, most people just call me Jun."

***

Present day, May 4th, 2021

"Thanks for the water." You muttered, taking a sip of said liquid. You weren't quite sure how much time had passed since you had entered the room with Minghao. It had to have been at least an hour at this point if not longer.

Your eyes returned to Minghao as he lounged on the second couch in the room, his arm resting over his eyes as he did so. It reminded you of the way models would pose, and once again you found yourself staring at him without even realizing it.

"I would say take a picture, it'll last longer but that wouldn't really work in my case." He muttered, he almost sounded amused at you, as if he could feel your stares on his frame. Quickly you divert your attention to the water bottle in your hands, tugging at the label as you tried to distract yourself.

You were surprised that he had given you anything, Soonhee had said that he was strict about not handing out snacks or other things to the attendees but when he had noticed the sweat dripping down your face, he proved her wrong. This night hadn't truly changed your opinion on Minghao, he still seemed pretty standoffish and almost rude but despite that you could tell that he was in fact kind. He had layers, what was it that Shrek said? He was like an onion.

Shaking your head and swallowing your pride, you decided to speak up again. Despite how embarrassing the question was.

"Are all Vampires as pretty as the members of your Coven?"

This question had Minghao's arm off of his eyes as he rolled over to stare at you, dumbfounded at the question. It was silent for a moment before the male's loud laughter filled the room. You were surprised to say the least, you had never really seen the male with any sort of extreme emotion. Just stages of mild amusement or irritation, never full out laughing. You had to admit that it wasn't a terrible sight to see, he seemed almost relaxed as he laughed. Tears welling at his eyes as he did so. He quickly wiped his eyes and sat up, a grin lingered on his lips.

"No I've met some pretty ugly Vampires," he confessed. "Don't mention this to anyone, but once every few decades. The leaders of all the Covens in the country have to meet up for bullshit political reasons, and one year I had to stand in for Soonyoung. Let me tell you, the head of the Council is probably the ugliest man I've ever seen. Kind of an asshole as well, I'm not sure how Junhui kisses up to him like he does." He seemed so amused as he recalled the incident with the High Council, and was laughing all over again.

"Let's just say, i'm not allowed to stand in for Soonyoung again. He didn't like how...straight forward I was."

"What did you say to him??"

Minghao shrugged, leaning back on the couch once again. "Just called him an outdated asshole who needed better fashion sense. That old man is younger than Junhui but somehow makes himself seem centuries older just because of his fashion choices. Give me five minutes to fix his wardrobe and he'd be a whole new man."

This brought laughter to the two of you. It was nice, moments like this. Sure you joked around with your brother and your coworkers but you hadn't felt as at ease as you did right now. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you were safe down here. Once you left this building, paranoia clung to you like a bad stench. It wasn't something you enjoyed living with.

After the laughter subsided, Minghao took his phone from the pocket of his pants to check the time. With a small sigh he stood, running his hand through his hair again, a habit you were slowly catching the more he did so.

"It's about 2 am, I should probably switch out with Junhui so that he can get his turn."

The mention of leaving had that ever present sense of fear returning to you, but you said nothing about it. Simply grabbed your purse from the floor and stood, keeping a tight grip on the strap of the bag.

Minghao led you out of the room and back up the flight of stairs to the room that you had left Soonhee in. Now she was alone in the room though and almost looked as if she were about to fall asleep. As he passed, Minghao smacked the back of her head lightly and ignored the loud yelp that left her lips as he did so.

"Get back here and fight me like you mean it." She groaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. You were pretty surprised at how tired she seemed, from what you had been told and had observed on your own, this was the natural time for her to be awake. Yet here she was, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah sure, and then i'll have to deal with your dumb dog boyfriend being upset if I actually hurt you." He retorted, not turning back to look at her before he exited the room. Leaving Soonhee to curse irritation as he did so. You giggled a bit and gave her a small wave goodbye before you followed him through the door and back to the main bar area of the building. Figuring this was where you would part ways, you started to make a beeline for the door, only to have your wrist caught in his grasp as you tried to pass him and to be tugged back to his side.

"Junhui," he called. The male in question, turned his gaze away from his customer to face the end of the counter where Minghao was standing. "I'm taking this one home and I'll be back to cover for you in a bit."

He was what? He hadn't mentioned that to you before, but just as you were about to protest Junhui gave him a thumbs up. Then you were being dragged out of the bar by your wrist. You practically tripped over your own feet as you tried to keep up with him.

Once outside, he waved to Gahyeon as the two of you passed, paying no mind to the questioning look on her face. You shrugged when her gaze landed on you and then continued to follow after Minghao. He walked with confidence, as if he knew where he was going and you didn't stop him since thankfully he was headed in the right direction.

It was silent between the two of you again as you walked, passing by other bars and clubs on the streets. Because of your awareness of the supernatural now, you could tell that a few of the people waiting to be let into these different places...weren't exactly human. It made you wonder how much the other races out populated your own, and how humans weren't extinct yet. As the club district slowly faded into the background, you finally had the nerve to speak up.

"You didn't have to walk me home you know."

He shrugged, the moonlight shined down on him and made him almost seem like he was glowing. You found yourself thinking about how beautiful he was, definitely not a first for tonight. That was an embarrassing thought that you would have to come to terms with later.

"It's late, and you were practically trembling when I mentioned the time."

"I could have just been cold?"

"You weren't."

It was almost ridiculous how well he was able to read you, simply an open book in his hands. Trying to ignore the heat that had made its way to your cheeks, you grew silent once again. The only sounds that echoed through the night were that of your own footsteps and of the very few cars that passed down the street.

You reached an intersection and he went to continue straight, when you should be turning. Instead of simply speaking to him, you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. Reaching out and grabbing his wrist you dragged him down the correct street. You couldn't help but grin as you heard the small surprised noise he made.

The rest of the walk continued in silence, and soon enough you found yourself in front of the door to your apartment. Taking out your keys you quickly unlocked the door before turning back to face him.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" This caused him to raise a brow, curious at your word.

"Tomorrow?"

"I was planning on actually visiting the bar as a patron tomorrow. I've only been there for business so I wanted to actually go for fun." You explained, you were also wanting to see Soonhee again. You hadn't really sat down and spoke to her since January, so you wanted to make sure she was okay too. You were also curious about what Minghao had said to her in passing.

The man in question nodded, face blank in his natural expression. It was in that moment you wished you could read him like he could read you. You were curious what could possibly be going on in his mind right now, but alas you weren't like him. You were just an ordinary human.

After a moment, a small almost soft smile made its way to his face. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then," With nothing more to say, he turned on his heel and began the walk back to the bar.

Turning the knob to enter your apartment you let out a breath that you hadn't realized you had been holding in. Leaning against the wall so you could take off your shoes without falling over, you then made your way towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water before you went to bed. You had an early shift again tomorrow so you needed to get to sleep soon or you'd have trouble waking up.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket as you took a drink from your glass, you checked the schedule to see who you would be working with tomorrow. It was a pretty small shop so it didn't have too many employees in the first place, but you had to admit you were pretty pleased to see that you worked with Hoseok again tomorrow. For a second you thought about inviting him to the bar with you, before you realized that you weren't sure if he was aware of the existence of the supernatural. It's not like you could just bring it up in conversation to ask either, since he would think you were crazy if he was unaware.

Finishing your water you set your glass down in the sink and made your way towards your bedroom, flipping the light switch on so you could see. Only now, you wished that you hadn't. The room was just as you left it for the most part, but one thing stood out. A framed photo of you with your family lay resting on your pillow, as if someone had moved it from it's position on your dresser and placed it there. Your heart practically stopped as you stared at the photo in terror.

How did it get there? There were no signs of forced entry in the house, and none of the windows had been left open. You grabbed the photo and quickly returned it to its position on your dresser before grabbing the baseball bat from under your bed that you kept around for self defense.

All you could hear was the pounding of your heart as you made your way through the small apartment, throwing open every door to see if the intruder was still in your home. Not even the shower was off limits during your search.

Finding the house to be empty of anyone besides yourself, you let out a breath of relief before collapsing on your couch in the living room. Anxiety filed your gut as you tried to think of what possible measures you could take tonight to protect yourself. You tried your best to quell the shaking in your hands, you couldn't panic right now or you definitely wouldn't feel safe enough to sleep. Standing once again, and taking the bat with you, you quickly got to work.

Grabbing your pillow and blanket from your bedroom, you threw them haphazardly onto your couch. You figured it would be safer to sleep in there considering there was only one window as opposed to the three in your bedroom. After that your attention turned to the coffee table, you threw all the magazines and basically anything that was on top of the table onto the floor. Proceeding to lift the table and carry it down the hallway so that you could prop it in front of your bedroom door knob, if that was the way the intruder entered then he would have to shove the table out of the way to get into the hallway and the sound would wake you up. It wasn't much but it was all you could do, having nothing that you could put on the window in the living room.

Taking your bat tightly in your grasp you lay down on the couch, to try and sleep for the night.

***

"Hao! You're so late!" Junhui complained as Minghao returned to the bar, his lower lip jutted out into a pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. The male in question shrugged, climbing over the counter to take Jun's place. He had expected Junhui to leave right away, but he didn't. A look of concern had replaced the childlike pout on his features.

"How did she do?"

"She was fine. We basically just stopped and went depending on how she felt." It wasn't all that big of a deal to Minghao, but he was curious as to Jun's interest. Knowing his friend's history, Junhui had sworn off getting close to humans, which was why it didn't surprise Minghao when Junhui got with a Winter Fae. It was simpler for him that way, less dangerous. Yet here he was, worrying about the well being of a human.

He watched as Jun sighed in relief, a smile on his face once again. Slapping Minghao's back and a quick word of thanks was all the younger Vampire was given before Jun hopped the counter and bolted down the hall so that he could feed. Minghao rolled his eyes and got to work, helping the few customers that were sober enough to still order drinks. The rest of the night went by pretty smoothly and eventually it was time to shut down.

As Minghao began kicking out a few drunks, recognizing two of them as members of the wolf pack that Wonwoo belonged to, he saw the patrols finally returning. He almost found himself pouting as he realized that he would have to listen to their reports since Junhui had apparently just ditched him for the rest of the night, which was kind of annoying but to be expected. Junhui always needed some time to himself after feeding, it was just how it went.

The reports from Yuna, Eunbi, and Hyunjin were pretty standard, Kevin's seemed to be a different story. He returned to the bar, blood dripping from a wound on his forehead and parts of his clothing were ripped, but he seemed pretty casual about it. Very Kevin-like attitude. Well if he wasn't worried about it then Minghao wouldn't worry either.

"So?" He questioned, watching as Kevin grabbed a clean rag from behind the counter to clean the blood with.

"Well, guess who's back." He groaned, wincing a bit as he dabbed at his open wound. Well that was annoying, but it made sense. If he was tracking y/n then of course he would come back when you returned to town. Now though, Minghao had to decide if he was going to tell you. You were already on edge enough as it was without him telling you that you were in danger once again, the only thing that he found odd was that from what you had told him...you hadn't been attacked while you were outside of the town. So why did he wait until you came back to start causing trouble again?

"He has friends this time. Remember that Coven of Strays he mentioned? Well they aren’t just stray Vampires, let me tell you. We had some Fae, we had some wolves. It sucked when they tried to jump me but I ran like hell to get away. No way am I taking on strays, wolves, and fae by myself. I ain't stupid." Minghao didn't think he would ever get used to Kevin's way of speaking, but at least it was funny most of the time. This time, not so much.

It had been one thing for a single stray to be in the town, but having 6 of them wandering around. Well that was a different story. He'd probably need to call Soonyoung and see if their leader could come back to help run recon, it would be much easier if he was actually around.

"Glad you made it back alive, have Yuna patch you up and then go and get some rest." Minghao was grateful that Kevin had fed before going out tonight or it probably would have been a bit herder for the male to get away.

At his elder's words, Kevin turned to head upstairs and Minghao got to work once more. After he was sure that there were no more patrons, he quickly locked up the building and began the irritatingly long process of cleaning up for the night. As he did, he pulled his phone out and used his speed dial to call Soonyoung. The line rang for quite a while and Minghao was almost certain that the man wasn't going to pick up, which would have made his job a lot more annoying. To his surprise though, he was greeted with the familiar loud voice of one Kwon Soonyoung.

"Hao! You never call me!" He exclaimed, and Minghao could practically see the bright grin that his elder would be wearing. It exhausted him just to think about how much energy his Venture had. "Usually I only hear from Jun!"

"You’d hear from me more if you were ever around, but that��s not why I’m calling. I've got some news," he began, as he spoke he pulled the broom out of the storage closet and began sweeping slowly. He wouldn't be able to seriously start cleaning until he was off the phone but he needed to at least start it. "We have a situation and we might need you back from....wherever the hell you are."

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exosmuttytalk · 4 years ago

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Guardian - II

Characters: Do Kyungsoo, unnamed female OC (told from the perspective of DO)

Genre: angst.

Rating: mature.

Warning: this deals with topics darker than my usual. Death, suicide and mental health problems mentioned. Proceed with caution and take care!

Summary: there is no summary because the core happening of the story is what makes it as a whole, so you gonna have to read to find out lol

Word count: ~3000

GUARDIAN I

**************************************

A three work question popped in my head as I put all the clues together, but I really did not want to even entertain that though. There sure must be other explanation; that could not be happening.

Jackie could see me; that was for sure. Maybe this was all an elaborate prank? You could have a twisted sense of humour at times, but this was going too far.

I turned around the sofa to kneel before you and looked straight into your face, which was not even ten centimeters away from mine. I could have laid my hand against your cheek. I could have leaned in and kissed you on the lips. But I didn't.

Instead, I screamed. As loud and screeching as I could manage, scraping my throat in the process. You didn't even flinch.

Jackie, on the other hand, who by then had been lying in her bed next to the TV stand, did hear me. She leaped of her seat and hissed at me, the hair on her back standing.

Her reaction startled you enough to finally stand up and hold her, babying her as you usually did, whispering soft words next to her head to calm her down.

"What is it, girl? You're fine, there's just the two of us here. Let's go find a treat for you, hm?"

Just the two of us?

My rapid breathing was making me lightheaded and dizzy. Your words echoed in my head and fit in perfectly with the idea that had been taking shape in my head since I was unable to open the door earlier.

My gaze searched the room, looking for anything that could either confirm or deny it, and it came upon a couple still closed white envelopes at the basket we used to sort the very few important letters we may receive in the mail.

As I already expected, I was unable to touch the papers, but what I saw was more than enough. The first envelope was addressed to you and rubricated with the seal of a funeral home. The second one was an official government letter. The one you would get with a death certificate inside.

Was I dead?

My disbelief was slowly being replaced by anxiety, confusion and fear. This wasn't possible. I clearly remembered last night's fight. Then this morning, I had woken up in our bed, as usual. You had already left for work and I had the day off. Or had I?

I was heavy panting while sitting there on the floor, trying to remember what I had done the whole morning exactly. Had I showered? I couldn't remember picking the pair of soft jeans and white t-shirt I was wearing. Had I eaten anything? I didn't feel hungry. But I could feel the cold, hard floor under my body. I could see and smell everything around me. I could hear you coming back from the kitchen with a bag of salmon treats in the hand free from the cat that was comfortably lying in your arm.

I didn't even give myself time to think anymore. I stood up quickly and purposely stood in the way I knew you would make back to the couch. I squared up, expecting our bodies to impact against each other. But the collision never arrived. Instead, you just walked straight through me. As if I wasn't standing right there. As if I didn't even have a body.

I could see you shudder, as if a sudden cold gust of wind had made its way through the collar or your shirt and down along your back, goosebumps forming on your skin.

Once again, Jackie looked straight at me, unequivocally fixing her green eyes onto me, recognizing me.

But you, you were completely oblivious. Somehow, we weren't on the same realm anymore.

I was more than probably dead.

How? I didn't remember being sick or even feeling unwell lately. I was actually so excited for the next month to come, we had plans to make a road trip to make the most out of my longer than usual holidays. We were gonna stay at my parent's for a couple weeks.

Thinking about them was the final straw that broke the precarious balance I had managed to keep and I started crying silently.

I stared at your face and wondered how this could ever happen to us. We had most of our life in front of us and we knew we wanted to spend it together. Seeing as Jackie bumped her head affectionately against your hand after she had been fed made me think of that beautiful patience of yours and how you cared for people you loved. You were going to be a wonderful mother. But not to my kids.

The dark rim around your beautiful eyes seemed absolutely normal to me right now. Everything made sense. I couldn't remember, but as for Sarah's words, I had been...dead for around a month. And they had all probably been looking after you. Making sure you got out of bed, ate and went to work or socialized in any way.

Tears rolled down the side of your face to the cushions on the couch, but you didn't seem to mind. Jackie was still resting on top of you, offering that silent support she always seemed so good at providing for you. Something I would never be able to provide for you anymore.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, unknowingly sharing our grief, but it was already dark outside when you stood up. You grabbed Jackie’s bowl once again and got into the kitchen, where you came back from carrying it filled to the brim with dry cat food, stuff she didn’t particularly seem to enjoy, and no food for you. Instead, there was a three quarters full bottle of whiskey under your arm. You didn’t like whiskey, we only had that bottle lying around to serve in the case of visits.

After you put the bowl back down on the floor, you made your way to the rest of the house. I followed you closely, mimicking your wincing when you took a sip of the lukewarm liquid in the bottle as you made your way to our bedroom. There, you rummaged around to find your laptop and got undressed, to later get into the main bathroom.

When we got this house you insisted at least one of the bathrooms should have a big bathtub. You didn’t have that growing up but made the most out of the one we had at home. I smiled bitterly to myself remembering of times I would come back tired from work and you would be waiting for me to indulge together in the relaxing warmth of the water against tired muscles. Other times, you would be waiting already inside of the tub, naked underneath the bubbles, and that was no time for relaxation.

You took you time preparing your bath. Added your favourite lavender salts, pulled all your hair in a bun and started playing Swing Kids on your laptop, aiming the screen towards the water. You got into the piping hot water, not really caring about the fact that it was clearly too warm, your skin flushing when it came in contact with it. Taking small sips, you had already gone through almost half of what was left of the bottle.

Swing Kids was always your favourite among all the stuff I participated in. You always told me how it was so different from any other war movie. I remember when you came to pick me up from shootings with food, and when you used to help me memorize my lines. How much you liked my haircut for the film and how you’d sometimes fall asleep on the couch, stroking my hirsute hair. I can remember your bright smile on the premiere day as you watched Ro Ki-Soo prance across the screen and your soft chuckles at the appropriate times. You even tried your hand at tap dancing, but discovered soon enough coordination and precision only came to your body when you were drawing construction models.

There was none of that left. As the movie progressed, your face became more flushed due to the effects of the alcohol, your eyes sadder and the water colder. The bottle emptier. Occasional hiccups erupted from your throat. It made me giggle, but you didn’t notice.

The movie was paused right after the big performance, but before the abrupt ending. Taking a last, longer swig out of the bottle, you rested your head against the rim of the bathtub and closed your eyes. Time went by and only your slow, superficial breathing, could be heard in the room. It was impossible for me to know whether you were awake or not; you had always been a very light sleeper, but I doubt anyone can sleep in water cold enough to cause all the hair in your body to stand up.

That bathtub had always been too big. It was already roomy for me, so for you it was closer to the size of a kids swimming pool. And you began slipping in. At first, I didn’t notice. Only when the water reached your bottom lip, I realized you had let yourself slide into the water with no resistance. I still didn’t know if you were asleep, but that didn’t matter because you were probably completely drunk. You were still sinking down into the water and soon enough, both your mouth and nose would be covered. And you were still unresponsive.

I began screaming again. I banged on the sides of the tub and on the walls of the bathroom. I tried splashing the water. I tried to pull the plug to no avail.

I was running out of ideas when the water was already touching the tip of your nose. That’s when it occurred to me that Sarah may have been on to something. That you may have done this on purpose. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Hell no.

I quickly stood up from my stop and ran through the house looking for Jackie. That little shit was peacefully sleeping on her bed, oblivious to anything going on around her. Do cats even care? I stomped forcefully on the floor next to her to wake her up and she stared at me, groggy and in disdain. She took her sweet time to stretch and wake up, only to ignore me and go hide under the sofa.

I kneeled down and pleaded with her. I tried to temp her with some of the treats of the bag that was still on top of the sofa. No noise came from the bathroom. Desperation tears were running down my cheeks as in a last attempt, I reached for her underneath the sofa. I didn’t expect to feel her fur and the warm flesh underneath when my hand reached her loin. Jackie freaked out as much as I did, but I wasted no time and grabbed her forcefully with both hands before jumping off the floor, her wrestling between my arms.

You face was almost completely covered by water by the time I came back into the bathroom. I didn’t know how long you’d been that way. I panicked. I dropped Jackie right into the tub, on top of your head. She struggled around the bathtub, wheezed and scratched every part of your body she had access to in order to get out of the freezing water.

But it worked. You opened your eyes, sat straight up in the bath, coughing and gasping for air. You managed to crawl out of the tub to hand on tightly to the toilet bowl and vomit all the alcohol from your stomach, hair stuck to your reddened face, bloodshot teary eyes, panting for any air that could make its way into your lungs. But alive.

I leaned back into the wall and slid down to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, letting go of some of the tension and watching you clean yourself up and flush the toilet before lying down on the hard, cold stone floor. I was only able to see your back from where I sat, but I noticed your shoulders shudder in a silent cry.

Jackie came back from whatever whole she’d been hiding in, still soaked from the unsolicited bath. I apologized in my mind. She came to sit right beside your head and began licking a particularly nasty looking scratch she had inflicted in her struggle. In return, you sat up straight, grabbed a small towel from a cabinet nearby and enveloped the cat into it. That way, you took care of each other.

“Why did you jump in?” You voice sounded hoarse and painful, your throat would probably suffering injuries from the water and later coughing.

You sank your nose into the animal’s wet fur and started crying there.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I slid across the bathroom floor and surrounded you with my arms, embracing you from behind and resting my head in your shoulder; the best way I could replicate the way we used to sit at the sofa when just watching TV.

Your body stiffened at first. Still naked and cold from the water, you were even more sensitive than usual to temperature changes. You shuddered when my chin hit the top of your shoulder. But you didn’t move or recoil. You just sat there, paralyzed, Jackie in your arms looking alternatively between you and me, putting all my might into making you recognize my presence.

“Soo..?” Your voice came as nothing but a whisper but relief flooded me over.

“Hey,” I responded softly, unsure if you would hear.

I still don’t know if you could hear me, but it didn’t really matter anymore. You body didn’t feel so tense anymore. Even if you didn’t feel me the same way you used to, I could sense you softening under mine, even leaning back searching for some support.

I hugged you as tightly as I could, watching as goosebumps erupted on every part of your skin that was connected to mine. But I didn’t let go.

“Why did you leave?” The pain in your plea hit me like a ton of bricks.

“I…I don’t know, baby. I am here now”, I struggled to get my words out of my choked up throat.

“I’m not ready.”

Neither am I, I thought.

Time goes by in a different way when you don’t have human needs. Or when you don’t have a body, altogether. Your sniffing was the only thing that took me out of the state I was in. Holding on to you. Focusing on feeling your body close to mine. Listening to your breathing. An almost meditative state I could’ve stayed in forever. But you were getting cold and you’d end up getting sick.

I shifted around and scurried out of the place I had been occupying to kneel right before you, to look at you in the eyes and grab your hand.

“Baby, listen. Listen to me!” I shook your hand forcefully and you looked straight through me, but you were attentive.

“You can’t do this to yourself. Tomorrow you’re calling your mom first thing in the morning and you’re going to live with her for a while. Until you get better, hm?” I made a stop waiting for some kind of response that never came, although something inside me told me you were getting the message.

“You have a lot of things to live and many people who love and care for you. You can’t do this to them, do you understand?” I caressed your face with the palm of my hand and you leaned into my touch, but your eyes still looked for me around the room.

“You are…the better half of us two. You need to go on living for us both. Remember that list of stuff we wanted to do together?” The knot on my throat barely let me speak, but I soldiered on. “You’re gonna do it all! You have time, you have money and lots of friends who are going to come along. You are not alone. You can still enjoy life. And someday, you will laugh again, baby. You will laugh the same way you always used to do. And I’m gonna be watching it all and laughing with you.”

Tears rolled down your face freely. Jackie, who had until that point been grooming herself at your lap, leapt off you and trailed off the bathroom, tail proudly raised and almost dry.

“If it weren’t for that cat, you may not be here now,” I said mostly to myself as I noticed you eyes following your pet. “She’s just a small portion of all the people in the world that love you and would be devastated if you were gone, myself included. Please don’t do it, baby. Please live, for me.”

I will always wonder how much of my message I managed to get across to you and how much you actually were able to take in, considering not only the extremely unusual circumstances, but the fact that there was the equivalent of more than half a bottle of whiskey still running through your system. You leaned back into the wall of the tub and nodded softly to yourself.

“Please don’t go,” your request came softly and chocked up, sobs starting to form at the back of your throat.

I slid down to the floor so my head was resting on your lap, in the same spot Jackie had occupied before; kissing every patch of skin I had access to in the way. I felt extremely tired and groggy and your image before my eyes got progressively hazy.

“I won’t. I will always watch over you. I love you,” were the last words to come out of my lips before I closed my eyes.

_______________________________

(Sorry Jackie for throwing you into freezing water)

Any feedback welcome!

GUARDIAN I

Masterlist

More Ksoo:

Everyday (OC/Fluff)

Jealousy (Chansoo/Smut)

#exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #do fanfic #do #do kyungsoo #do kyungsoo smut #do fluff #do angst #kyungsoo fluff #kyungsoo smut #kyungsoo angst #exo angst #fanfiction #kpop fanfiction #my stuff

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everlarkficexchange · 5 years ago

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Operation: BREAD (Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad)

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his common law wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeen’s daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Rated: T for now, for language.

Author’s Note: So, I resigned myself that this prompt won’t be completed by the new dateline of May 10th, because believe it not, quarantining with the husband and children at home makes for a very busy day… everyday. I haven’t been able to write anything for days at a time, and everytime I come back, I reread what I’ve written so far, and find faults that need fixing and what I hoped to be a short story is turning into a long one shot because I’m incapable of keep things simple… and now I’m ranting about everything instead of thanking everyone— from the EFE administrators, to @567inpanem for the prompt, and y’all dear readers— and wishing all moms a happy Mother’s Day, even if you celebrate it on a different date in your country… and I a belated happy birthday to Katniss Everdeen and Also a happy Mother’s Day to her, because she deserves it… anywho…

Here’s is the very first part of this story, that can’t make up its mind on what it wants to be (it’s leaning into romcom territory right now), I’ll post all my submissions soonish (hopefully finished), and I apologize for any formatting defects since I’m posting from my cell phone, otherwise I’ll forget to post it at all.

Sorry this is messy! I love y’all! Stay healthy.

————

“Quiet, you morons!” Bannock… whispers?

Is that the right descriptor for the harsh, low sounds that comes from his mouth? I’m not quite sure, but I look at him sheepishly, since I was the one to trip on air this time around and nearly knock down a clothesline, poles and all.

“S-sorry…” I stutter drunkenly.

Rye shrugs, uncaring. Asshole!

Bannock glares at us with his bloodshot, angry blue eyes before turning around and creeping forward.

It’s a chilly night out, with no stars and just a sliver of moon casting minimal light over us, ideal to maraud and raid… if we lived any place else, that is.

If we were to find ourselves face to face with the flashlight of a Peacekeeper patrolling the streets, things could go anywhere from awkward to deadly, and I really hope we don’t have to find out how it’ll truly go. We’re wasted, outside our house after curfew, and facing our mother’s wrath would probably be as terrible as any punishment the peacekeepers would inflict on us.

The later option has me swallowing thickly.

I’m no coward by any stretch of the word… but I do enjoy being alive, so… yeah.

“Don’t mess around, no more!” Bannock chides.

As soon as Bann turns around, Rye mouths his words back, mockingly, and I wonder— not for the first time— how can my brothers be so immature? Bannock just turned 25, while Rye has the mind of a 13 year old trapped in the muscular body of a 24 year old man; leaving sweet, little me, the 21 year old baby sibling, to bring the rear.

Rye burps, mostly quietly, earning another warning glare from Bann. All things considered, I’m a little impressed at how stealthily we’ve been moving so far, being as enebriated as we are and all. But who knows? Maybe we really aren’t as slick as my alcohol soaked brain thinks we are, and I’m just too skunked to know any better.

“D’you think we’ll be back before father wakes to take care of the ovens?” Rye slurs a little, squinting his eyes at a cat trotting across the alley in front of him. A second later he’s frowning down at the cat, shushing it obnoxiously, as if it’s soft paws are the ones making the stopping sounds coming from his own boots.

Bannock shrugs, “Who cares!”

I’m about to raise my hand and respond that I do, I care, but Rye starts laughing like an idiot, already distracted by something else. We turn to catch him picking up a stick and throwing it at the poor, unsuspecting cat. As soon as the stick hits it’s side, the animal loses its balance, making it fall into a trash can, with a terrified cry.

It’s awful. And loud.

“Knock it off!” Bannock growls as quietly as he can. “You’re gonna wake up the whole town, asshole!”

The cat meows indignantly, climbing out of the trash. He jumps to the other side and it’s gone in the next moment.

I sigh, rubbing one hand over my face. “Guys, I think we should go back. I don’t think Father will approve of this.”

“Shut up, Peeta!”

“Yeah! Shut it, runt!”

I grunt in aggravation under my breath. “I’m serious. We shouldn’t be out here… at all!” I insist.

“Why did you come then?” Bann hisses.

“You dragged me out with you, jackass!” I counter, pointedly. Plus, I’m the least drunk out of the three of us, and I figured I should keep an eye on them two, make sure they don’t get hurt in this idiotic quest… but I don’t say that out aloud. “I still don’t understand why, are we stumbling across town in the middle of the night, risking getting caught outside after curfew.”

“You know why, Peeta! We’ve gone over it to death,” snaps Bann, twisting his whole body to face me and almost walking into a potted plant sitting by somebody’s back door. “Father doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone how to defend his honor!”

“Our hands have been forced, runt. We need to pick up the slack, that’s why!”

I roll my eyes at my brothers.

It’s true though. For the last 26 years, our father has been both the butt of every joke said in the streets of district 12, and the victim of a tragic cautionary tale, people somehow feel the sadistic inclination to bring up to us, Mellark boys, as if we needed the reminder.

“Geez… save it for Everdeen, Bann. Let the runt keep his head instead of chewing it off him!”

Bannock frowns. It’s not everyday Rye comes to my defense, which means he really must be hammered.

Cool! I love brotherly affection… even if given under the influence.

“Whatever.” Bannock mutters under his breath. “We’re here anyway.” He signals to the fence dividing our district into two unequal sections: the merchant quarter, where we live, and the Seam (our destination), the largest— yet poorest— side of 12.

It’s unclear why the government erected the fence running right through the district in the first place, but the effect of having a literal barrier separating everyone in our small district, couldn’t be any clearer: we have a huge social divide amongst our people, very distinct and hard to overcome. Both sides distrusting the other, despite there never being a tangible reason why.

Personally, I think the most logical explanation for the creation of the internal fence, was just sheer desire to create hostility and antagonism between the citizens of 12… maybe it’s easier for the Capitol’s long arm to control a podunk place like here, when there’s an unbridgeable social chasm between our own denizens; how can we band together to demand better treatment and fair representation from the mighty Capitol, when we’re fighting with each other?

Of course, I keep my opinion to myself, because speaking of such things is just a sure way to find oneself in prison, facing charges of public agitation and whatnot.

Bann cuts through my musings, “Alright… let’s find a spot to cross over.” He says determined and still very intoxicated.

The worst kept secret in District 12, is how some sections of the fence are too close to the houses in the merchant side. If one really wants to cross into the other side over the fence, one only needs to look for a low wall adjacent to the top links of the fence to climb on, and after that, it’s all a matter of gravity pulling you down. Its been done before too…

Everyone speculates that’s what happened the day our father fell into disgrace: A man from the Seam found a weak spot to exploit… and the rest is history. Never mind the fact that jumping the fence is a common enough hooligan deed; how else can teenage couples reach the Slag Heap at the edge of the old coal mines to engage in their secret affairs?

It only takes us a few minutes to find a brick wall circling the backyard of a random house, just two feet shy of the fence.

We climb it with all the grace of a pig crawling up a greased pole, but after much huffing and puffing, we manage— with great effort— to drag ourselves over the barrier. We’re sweating and swearing, but who could blame us for that? We Mellark boys are just too broad and heavy with muscle, add to the mix the fact that we’ve drank our body weight in white liquor right before Bann had the brilliant idea of dragging us out here, and you have an uncoordinated— mostly clumsy— sad excuse, trio of vandals.

Rye goes first, then I go; finally, Bannock splatters down like a bullfrog, falling on his ass. He’s disgruntled and I suspect in dire need of a nap.

“Come on!” He commands, dusting his behind sloppily.

We’ve been walking aimlessly through unfamiliar dirt roads and dark unpaved alleys. The place is littered with produce crates set upside down in neat circles every other road… I vaguely wonder if that’s what passes as a socializing hot spot here in the Seam, like the square with its concrete benches is for us in town?

Sometimes I forget how things can be so shitty on this side of the District. It makes my stomach twist unpleasantly with guilt, realizing I take certain privileges for granted.

About five minutes into our stupid intrusion into Seam territory, Rye speaks up.

“Dude… do you know where they live?”

Bannock’s head snaps up, clearly annoyed. “How hard can it be to find the Seam’s apothecary?”

Very, actually.

First of all, The Seam consists of row after row of seemingly identical shacks, in varying states of shabbiness, arranged in a huge matrix of sorts. Each row is made of three to five houses with a slim road in between the next set of homes.

For what I gather in my limited liquor-addled brain, each horizontal row has a designated letter, and the vertical street goes by number. Other than that, there are no other distinguishing signs, telling us where we are or how to find the ‘Seam apothecary’ as Bann inarticulately dubbed it.

Rye groans in annoyance, seeming ready to overrule Bannock and call the whole thing off, himself; but my drunk ass is too stupid to keep my big mouth shut.

“They live close to the electric fence. Right before the meadow. They probably have a fence-in yard, too.”

I wince, regretting my words right away. I shouldn’t have said anything, but like an idiot, I couldn’t help spilling out the small bursts of information I’ve gathered over the years on the Everdeens.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but the Everdeens are a bit of an obsession to me… for all of us Mellarks, really. Given our entangled past with them, it shouldn’t be so much of a revelation, but this thing between our families has been a nuisance ever since I can remember and while my brothers and mother use it as a focal point of hatred and animosity. For me, is a curiosity driven thirst for knowledge on everything Everdeen. Anything that could shed light on our sordid past, I would gobble up, trying to answer why something that has virtually nothing to do with me and my brothers, still haunt us everywhere we go.

Rye frowns. “Fence-in yard?” He looks around the houses we are passing, realizing none of those have fences.

“Goat.” Bannock grunts, nodding thoughtfully. “Good catch, runt.”

“Huh?” Rye is scratching his head, confused.

“The blonde girl,” Bann says with mild irritation.

People from the Seam have a very specific look to them: dark— usually straight— hair, gray eyes, olive skin… ‘blonde’, blue eyed and pale, is more of a descriptor for people from the merchant class, like us… like Mrs. Everdeen.

The poor woman must stick out like a sore thumb in here; probably the same goes to her merchant-looking daughter, Primrose.

“What about the blonde?”

“She makes goat cheese.” Bann huffs as explanation, but since Rye still looks like the concept is too hard to fathom, Bannock grunts, expanding. “She trades the cheese in town. Mainly with Father. Which means, Everdeen has to keep at least one goat for the girl to have access to milk.”

“M’kay… goat, fences, meadow.” Rye lists clumsily on his fingers, following after Bann. “Got it!”

We quickened our steps in the direction of the electric fence. I’m still kicking myself for saying anything when we reach the last row of houses before the meadow.

I really hope I’m wrong about them having a goat, although I find it hard to believe Primrose steals milk from other people for her cheeses. She looks so sweet and innocent.

Alas, I’m too clever for my own good sometimes.

The very first house in the row at the edge of the meadow, has a pen connected to the house on the strip of backyard allotted to them. A tiny but sturdy shed stands against the back wall of the house, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, I can barely make out the snout of a goat, peeking out of the narrow opening of the shed.

“This is it!” Rye crows excitedly, rubbing his hands together and licking his chops like a hungry, humanoid wolf.

“Yeah. Finally!” Grunts Bann, “keep your voice down, doofus.” his reaction, both frenzied and anxious.

“Let’s do this!” Rye’s smile is deranged.

“Great!” I hiccup with fake enthusiasm. “What are we doing?” I deadpan, staring at my siblings with all the aggravation I can muster.

My brothers speak excitedly at the same time:

“Taking one of the girls back home with us!”/“Beating the shit out of Everdeen!”

My brothers look at each other, perplexed, and go, “”What?!” At the same time.

“Fuck!” I groan to the skies, noting its near dawn. “You better be joking! We came all the way out here, and you idiots didn’t plan what you were going to do once we arrived?”

“No… I mean, yes! No. it’s simple,” Slurs Rye trying to stare me in the eye and failing miserably, “We’re dragging Everdeen out here. Then, we’ll beat the snot out of the bastard, and have you doodle the whole thing out for Father… you’ll finally use that art talent of yours for something we’ll all enjoy… not just you,”

“No, no, no, no!” Snaps Bannock. “We’re taking one of Everdeen’s daughters, bring her back home with us, and avenge father.”

“What? Why?” Rye whines much too loud and even I shush him. “I thought we were just gonna jump the bastard and rearrange his face a little,” Rye sounds disappointed.

Bannock answers right away, sounding like our mother when she’s chiding us for some thing or another. “Dude… the guy stole Dad’s girl! You know what they say about repaying a slight with the same coin and all that shit. It stands to reason, the course of action here is to take one of the girls home with us, sleep with her, and get her pregnant or something, then she can’t come back to her daddy.”

I throw my hands up in the air, “That’s it! I’m out!” My brain practically short circuits with the outrageous shit my brothers are spewing out of their mouths.

Sure, beating the lights out of an unsuspecting man in front of his house in the middle of the night is already crazy, but Bann’s idea to take a girl away from her home, it’s beyond preposterous!

Instead of lashing out, I turn around and stalk away as fast as my legs can carry me. I’m still tipsy, so I stumble a little, but I’m determined to leave.

“Hey! Where are ya going?!”

I get grabbed by the bíceps and pulled back to ‘hide’ behind a scraggly bush overlooking the house we assume is Everdeen’s. My brothers push me down by the shoulders roughly, until I’m sitting on my ass.

“The hell is wrong with you two?” I snarl, trying to punch and kick either one of them.

“Shut up, runt! They’re gonna hear you!”

“Good! Then someone will call the Peacekeepers over.”

“Wha— No! Why would you want that?” Rye whines.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this crazy shit!” I spit enraged.

“Dude, you can’t bail on operation BREAD,” Rye scrunches up his face.

“Operation Bread? What in the hell, is operation Bread?” I wrench my arms free from them at last, glowering up at both.

“Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad!” Rye says proudly, a lopsided smile brightens his face, and all I want to do is punch his nose.

“You’re insane!” I sputter.

“No… I’m cle-ver!” Rye grins, tapping a finger to his temple.

“Come on, Peeta. You know this needs to be done!” Bann cuts in.

“No! It doesn’t!” I argue. I still feel woozy from alcohol though, so it’s costing me too much effort trying to get up. “This is just insane, Bannock! What you’re proposing is just… heinous!” I hiss.

Bannock’s face hardens, “Nobody will see it like that.” He assures, “An eye for an eye, baby brother.”

“So what? We’re gonna kidnap and rape an innocent girl in revenge, and you think that’ll fix anything? Will it bring peace? It’ll help you get Madelynn’s parents to back off and let her marry you?” I’m so pissed off, I’m pretty sure spittle is flying out of my mouth. “It won’t do anyone any good! Not us, nor father, and especially not Katniss or Primrose!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bannock flies at me, and all I have to do is lift my arms to shield my head.

Rye is an equal opportunity asshole most of the time, but in this moment, he’s the one stopping Bannock from breaking my face in two, and I’m very grateful for my middle brother manhandling our eldest for me.

“Rape is a strong word, runt.” Rye gasps with the effort of keeping Bannock from kicking my ass. But if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, I think maybe my words are chipping away some of his complicitness in this mess. “Maybe, what Bann meant, was, one of us will… you know… spend time with the girl, and then… make her his common law wife or something?” Rye looks at Bann expectantly.

Bannock nods. Rye lets go of him.

We all stay silent, breathing heavily for a moment.

“Same coin. Simple as that.”

If the stories are to be believed, Sorrel Everdeen crossed the fence dividing the merchant quarter and the seam, kidnapped my father’s betrothed— Lily— and made her his common law wife, despite being common knowledge, that the woman in question was engaged to our father since they were very young.

It’s an old rumor, really, with no real way to fact-check the events that led to this moment in time, but there’s always been some nasty whispering churning around town; tales varying in height and perjury, sometimes scandalous, others depraved, always with add-ons and full of conjectures flavored by the speaker in turn, but never the whole truth.

The worst thing is that the stories die down for a while when something juicer comes up, but then resurface, like a persistent oily stain on cement… It’s been 26 years since the real events leading to the Everdeens controversial marriage took place, yet the old gossip mill in District 12 has waxed over and rewritten the sordid story through the lense of judgemental people over and over again, until even our mother has started to repeat the outlandish tales, as if she wasn’t an active participant of the story herself.

Still… “I just can’t!” I say both exasperated and grossed out. “We should just go home—“

I get cut off when the door of the Everdeen house opens spilling faint candlelight into the almost blackened-out street.

My brothers rush to huddle around me, crowding on top of me like a pair of boulders… or worse: a pair of sweaty, heavy, alcohol doused men. Disgusting!

The door of the shack closes softly and to our shock, a very angry looking Katniss Everdeen stomps in the direction of the sad excuse for a bush we’re hiding in.

“Hmm… guys… I think she sees us.” I mumble calmly, yet terrified. Katniss Everdeen, eldest daughter of Sorrel and Lily, is coming our way with fire in her eyes.

TBC on AO3…

#Springtime Edition 2020 #alliswell21 #567inpanem #prompt 23 #submission

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 5 years ago

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Sick Little Games: Forty- One

“How’s this batch of rookies?” you ask, starting to brush your hair out.

“Thoroughly uninspiring,” Clint mused.

“That’s a tidy turn of phrase to tell me that they don’t have the sense God gave paste,” you snort.

Clint grinned and crossed the floor to kneel in front of you, “They’re just green. To be honest, they would have benefitted more from an Ass whoopin’ from you... but I dunno. You might still be silent movin’ around, but little bit slows you down a lot.”

“Just a little,” you snort, carding fingers through his hair as he rests his forehead on your stomach.

“A little,” he teases, kissing the swell tenderly, “Pretty sure Stark’s faster than you right now.”

You crinkle your nose at him, and he chuckles, “Don’t worry,” he murmurs to his daughter, “Mama still packs a punch. A wicked one.”

You shake your head, “You’re gonna have her scared of me before she gets here.”

“Nah,” Clint protests, “Just giving her a healthy respect for the woman who’s gotta give birth to her.” He smiles a little at the movement under his hands and sighs, “How’re you feelin’ baby?” he asks softly, looking up at you.

“I’m ready to go home,” you sigh.

“I know,” he soothes, “Did you have a good day?”

“It was fine,” you sigh, “At least until Bucky showed up in my office.”

Clint freezes and clenches his jaw, “I’m gonna-”

“No-” you say, kissing him quickly, “No, you will not.”

Clint cradles your face in his hands, “Did he hurt you?” he asked, anxiously, “What did he say?”

You turn your head to kiss his palm and sigh, “He- he apologized.”

“Apologized?” Clint said slowly as if the word was unfamiliar. “Li-like a human? Like with words?”

You nod, glad that you weren’t the only one confused.

Clint can read the emotions on your face. Confusion. And not a little frustration. And for some reason, it agitates his impostor syndrome. He knows it shouldn’t. You married him. You’re having a baby with him. He can feel his daughter under his hands. And you’re here. Talking to him. Joking with him. Kissing him. Without a second of agitation. But in the back of his mind, he can feel the doubts creeping in. Doubts about you. About himself. About whether you should really be with him. You loved Bucky First. You might still love him if he pushed the right button. Was he manipulating you? Was this a plan? A plot? Had he just been a means to an end for you?

He knows it isn’t fair. He can feel your big empathetic eyes on his face. And he knows. He knows that those feelings are probably hitting you like he socked you in the face with a sock full of quarters. He can watch your eyes getting over bright. And it makes his guts twist unpleasantly.

��Clint-” you murmur, catching his chin in your hand when he looks away.

He takes a deep breath and raises his eyes. Bracing to be told you want a divorce. Bracing to hear that it isn’t his baby, and you just can’t take it anymore. He knows. He knows it catastrophizing, and it’s not true, He KNOWS, but he can’t stop the thoughts that are racing around in his head.

“I love you, dummy,” you say softly, smiling a little even as a couple tears slide down your cheeks.

“But-” he starts, stopping when you cut him off with a kiss.

“I had a crush on Bucky. A stupid little crush,” you tell him. “I thought I loved him. Mostly because I wanted so fucking badly to have some stupid hallmark movie love story... But. That’s not real, handsome.”

Clint bites his lip, and you brush hair out of his eyes, “Bucky isn’t real,” you tell him, “He really isn’t. He thinks he loves me. But if you think for one second, he’d be willing to hold my hair while I puke or tuck me into bed with a brownie and a glass of milk at 3am just because I have a craving... Then three minutes later, get me nachos because I didn’t want a brownie anyway? You’re fucking insane. He wasn’t in medical with me. He doesn’t hold me through nightmares... He doesn’t write to me obscene poems... Baby. You’re stuck with me. I don’t want him. I haven’t really wanted him since the ride home from that fucking mission... And I think. I think that’s part of why what he did broke me so bad. I THOUGHT I loved him. He told me everything I wanted to hear. And fucked if it didn’t mean anything.”

Clint smiles a little and rests his forehead against your stomach, “So you don’t want a divorce?”

“Fuck you, no,” you snort, “Aside from that, I think I accidentally burnt our marriage certificate tryna make Lucky’s Birthday pancakes... and I don’t think the state of New York takes returns without a receipt.”

“How-” he chuckles and shakes his head, “Baby, you’re a mess.”

“And I’m all yours,” you say, chucking him under the chin.

“Promise?” he asks, pulling you down for a kiss.

“Promise,” you answer, nipping his lip.

Clint can’t think after that. He needs to lose himself and banish the last little threads of anxious thoughts. The demons dogging his every step and subtly reminding him of all the ways he didn’t measure up. He needed to feel something else. To feel nothing but you. The heat of you. Silk. The breath on his neck as you cry his name. He needs to be reminded that you’re his. That he has you. Body and Soul. He wants to admire all the curves. The fact that you’re growing a baby, that is his. That belongs to both of you. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you more,” you answer, teasing.

“I’ll let you have this one,” he grouses, pulling your tanktop off hungrily, “Because you’re really, really fucking hot.”

“You’re biased,” you tell him breathlessly as he cradles your breasts him his hands and starts peppering them with kisses.

“How the fuck do you think I got that way?” he scolds.

“Poor taste?”

“Be nice,” he scolds, biting your nipple hard enough to make you gasp in pleasure, “You’re talking about the love of my life.” he smiles up at you, “Not to mention the mother of my child... So don’t you dare be mean.”

“Clint-” you whine.

“Take it back,” he presses, grinning, “Take it back and I’ll take care of you right, baby.”

“I’ll say anything you want. Just as long as you fuck me,” you pant.

“That’s what I like baby,” he encourages, “Be a good girl for me and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Tags: @lancsnerd, @thorfanficwriter @blameitonthecauseway @etherealwaifgoddess, @stevieang, @beautybyfire, @sunmoonandbucky @mrsfox79, @bbmommy0902, @mendes-fan, @iheartsebastianstan, @wtfcas @pinknerdpanda, @process-pending, @ladifreakingda, @leasly, @coldbookworm, @hv-chw3, @past-perfect-future-tense, @starkrobb @beardburnsupersoldiers, @petlaufeyson, @queenoftheunderdark, @potatoheadthewise, @thehyperactiveteen, @thefridgeismybestie, @boyett514, @an-awkward-human-1, @sunshine-and-riverwater

#clint barton #Clint barton x reader #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes X reader #domestic fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #smut

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orangeoctopi7 · 5 years ago

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Stupid Teen Emotions

@forduary Week three is travel/trapped. In this story, Stan and Ford TRAVEL back to the past, where they become TRAPPED! It fits!

Chapter 1: Back in My Day

They didn’t sleep well, that first night. Ford stayed up late, because of course he would have stayed up into the wee hours of the night working on his perpetual motion machine in the original timeline. But he barely touched the project. With the knowledge he had now, he could probably build the whole thing tonight, but that would, of course, be changing the timeline. A younger Ford had learned a lot, working so hard and so long on this machine, and future Ford didn’t want to deprive his past self of that important lesson. So instead, he began writing, racking his brain for anything he could remember of January, 1969.

Stan tried to sleep at first, but he just couldn't. He was too anxious and excited, all rolled into one. So he instead dug out a few of his old comic books that never got thrown away.

They both must have fallen asleep at some point, because come morning, there was a rapping at the door that woke them both with a start.

“Get up, you two! You’re gonna be late for school!” A woman with a thick Jersey accent yelled through the door.

“M-mom?” Ford’s head lifted blearily off his desk.

“Wow, you are really taking the whole ‘stick to the timeline’ thing seriously.” Stan mused from his bottom bunk.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep at my desk…” Ford groaned.

“You never do, Sixer, you never do.”

They marched downstairs and into the kitchen, where their mother had a breakfast of hot cinnamon and apple oatmeal waiting for them. Stan was so happy to see her, he ran over and hugged her, pecking a swift kiss on her cheek.

"Aww, sweetie!" She planted a kiss on his forehead. "I'm still not paying your parking ticket." She added flatly.

"What parking ticket?" Stan asked, confused. "Oh, um, I mean, drat."

Ford was too tired to even work up the energy to be happy to see his mother. As he sat down, he automatically reached for the coffee pot. But a rolled up newspaper smacked his hand away.

“What d’you think you’re doin’?” Caryn asked, eyebrow raised.

“... getting my morning coffee?” Ford answered, addled.

“How many times do I have to tell you, honey? No coffee ‘til you’re 18. It’ll stunt your growth!”

Ford looked like he was about to have a fit.

“Wait, are we not 18?” Stan asked quickly. Luckily, his parents ignored his out-of-place comment.

“Ya don’t need coffee, ya need more sleep!” Filbrick grunted from behind his newspaper.

“You both drink ten cups a day!” Ford argued, his voice cracking again.

“That’s cuz we’re adults.” Filbrick growled, “Once you’re old an’ decrepit, you can drink all the coffee ya want.”

“Trust me, he will.” Stan said flatly.

Ford kicked him under the table. Hard. Stan cried out.

“Can it, you two!” Caryn scolded them, “You’ll wake up Shermie. I don’t wanna have to deal with three crying babies.”

The brothers finished their breakfast sullenly but quietly, and grabbed their backpacks before heading out the door.

“Think we should leave Shermie a note warning him to watch out for time travelers?” Stan asked as he fished out his keys to the STNLYMBL. “Y’know, for when he’s older?”

“Then Dipper and Mabel will be born later than 2000.” Ford reminded him irritably.

“Right.” Stan smacked himself. “Man, this sucks! Why time travel if we can’t make things better?”

Ford’s only reply was a surly sigh as he turned to the cafe next door.

“Hey, where’re you goin’?” Stan asked.

“To get some coffee!”

“Seriously, Sixer? Hot Belgian Waffles is next door, Mrs. DuBios will rat you out to Ma for sure!”

Ford heaved an even more enraged sigh that bordered on a growl, and turned on his heal to get into Stan’s car, slamming the door shut.

“Whoa, easy, we’ll just stop by the donut place on the boardwalk.” Stan reassured him as he started the car. “What’s gotten into you?”

The scientist groaned and pulled his fingers through his curly brown hair. “I don’t know! Normally it’s simple to just focus on my intellect and control my emotions, but it just isn’t working now for some reason!”

“‘Control’ your emotions, or bottle them up?” Stan muttered. Ford shot him a withering glare. “Shoot, I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. Why do I keep doin’ that?”

“And the only reason I’m so mad in the first place is because I’m so tired!” Ford continued to rant, “I got at least four hours of sleep last night, it doesn’t make any sense!”

“Heh, guess teen Ford isn’t used to old man Ford’s space-sleep schedule. Or lack of sleep schedule, anyway.”

Ford’s face brightened into his ‘a-ha!’ expression. “Stanley, that’s it!”

“What?”

“The reason I’m having such a hard time regulating my emotions, and the reason you can’t keep your mouth shut even more than usual! We may still have our minds from 2013, but our bodies are teenagers in the middle of puberty. Our hormone levels are magnitudes higher than what we’ve become accustomed to.”

“Great. Goin’ through puberty again. Just what everyone wants outta time travel.”

They pulled up to the donut shop on the boardwalk. Stan poked around in his seat and found a quarter, which he handed to Ford. Suddenly, his brother looked unsure.

“Stan, maybe you should hang onto this. You’re going to need all the money you can get, come summer.”

“It’s a freaking quarter, Poindexter.”

“Yeah, but a quarter is worth a lot more in 1969 than it will be in 2013! This is almost a whole gallon of gas!”

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ten minutes ago you were about to have a meltdown because you couldn't get your morning coffee, just buy it, Ford!”

“Fine, but I’ll pay for it myself.”

“With what money, genius? You didn’t have a job in high school because you were too busy with your academic science nerd stuff! Now go buy yourself a cup of coffee, or I’ll make you walk the rest of the way to school.”

Ford frowned, but took the quarter. He couldn’t help but feel guilty as he got his cup of coffee. How could he or anyone else have ever said that Stan was the lazy one, when Stan was the only one who’d ever had a ‘real’ job? Even to this day, Ford had never had what anyone would call a normal job, barring that one summer he’d been a lifeguard at a waterpark in a dolphin-dominant dimension. He’d always relied on scholarships and grants and accademia, which was hard work, in its own way, but still. It certainly wasn’t what his father would have called a real job. While traveling across dimensions, he’d relied on trading information and knowledge, building and selling inventions, and even, occasionally, stealing.

Stan was the one who’d gotten a minimum wage, part-time job selling popsicles on the beach. Stan was the one who’d entered local semi-pro boxing matches and brought home winnings. Stan was the one who’d saved up for his own car.

“Ar-are you crying!?” Stan exclaimed when Ford climbed back into the car, cup of coffee in hand. Ford reached up to wipe his eyes, surprised as his brother to find tears there.

“Oh geez, Stanford, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh, I just--” Stan began to babble.

“N-no, it’s not you.” Ford found his voice wavering as soon as he tried to speak. “It’s just-- gah, I’m so stupid! Stupid hormonal chemical imbalance!”

Ford tried to keep himself from crying anymore by taking a big gulp of coffee. It wasn’t very good, and it was just this side of warm, but it instantly improved his mood.

“Ah, there’s that good dopamine.”

“Better?”

“Much. Let’s go. I think we’re already late.”

Despite the fact that they were ten minutes late, there were still several students milling about when they arrived at the school. The twins felt like they should stick out like a sore thumb, but nobody paid them any mind.

“Ugh, never thought I’d come back here.” Stan grumbled.

“Well, look on the bright side!” Ford reassured him, “Now that you’ve studied quantum physics and run your own business for thirty years, Math and Science classes should be a breeze!”

“Hey, yeah! I can’t wait to see the look on Mr. Grauberger’s face when I can tell him exactly how much interest $300 will accumulate over 20 years!” But he paused. “Wait, what about changin’ the timeline? Pretty sure I never answered questions in class.”

“Oh, it wouldn’t make that much of a difference.” Ford scoffed. “Even if you get 100% on every quiz while we’re here, I don’t think it’d be enough to bring your grade up past a C, and you’ll be dropping out before graduation anyway.”

“Oh yeah….” Stan’s good mood quickly washed away.

Ford rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “We know it all works out in the end.”

“Yeah…” Stan agreed, “but there was still a lot of heartache gettin’ there.”

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Forduary 2020 #Stanford PInes #Stanley Pines #My Writing

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katehuntington · 5 years ago

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Title: Ride With Me (part ten) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±6500 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family. Summary part ten: Y/N is about to go on an adventure. Good thing she has her friend Jo to help her pack and her crush Dean to guide the way. Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: The Man With The Harmonica - Ennio Morricone, Hide And Seek - Gareth Dunlop (end scene). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. Thank you for your endless patience!

Ride With Me Masterlist

“Wait, you’re not planning on bringing all that with you, are ya?” Y/N’s eyes leave the three pairs of boots from which she still has to choose. Not to decide what two sets to leave behind, but which to wear and which to pack. Jo stands in the doorway of her tiny room, staring at the bed, which is covered in flannels, shirts, tops, several hats, jeans, jackets, sweaters, towels, socks, matching underwear, swimwear, a makeup bag, and a toiletry bag. Even a hair iron and of course her phone charger lay amongst the collection of items that one way or another are going to have to fit into her bag.

The season is coming to an end now that September has reached its final days. It’s time to move the two-year-old horses down from the summer reservation. Bobby had asked his intern if she wanted to come along and of course she blurted out ‘yes!’ before he could even finish his sentence. She was so excited about the trail ride and started packing immediately. This is going to be quite an experience, especially for a show rider like herself who usually sticks to riding in a fenced arena. It’s a good thing that she started gathering her things early, because she has been contemplating what to bring for over an hour now. She’s the kind of girl who pays extra for exceeding the luggage weight limit on her flights, so no wonder she’s having it tough choosing what to bring.

A little helpless she looks over at Jo, who’s waiting on her response. “I was planning on bringing this, actually,” she returns, hesitatingly. “Damn… poor horse,” the blonde cowgirl comments, eyeing all her friend’s stuff. “Too much?” Y/N assumes. “Just a tad,” Jo scoffs as she walks in. “And what the hell are you bringing the entire electronics store for?” “It’s just my charger and my hair iron. I will look like birds are nesting on my head if I don’t straighten this out,” she objects, holding out the strands of hair that have escaped her ponytail. “And you can’t have that with Dean around.” The ranch owner’s daughter crosses her arms in front of her chest, knowingly frowning at her friend. Y/N tilts her head and glares back, but fails to come up with a decent counter, because she’s not wrong. “Shut up,” she mutters instead. “By all means, pack it.” Jo shrugs as she turns back to the door. “But unless you tie a generator behind that horse of yours or find a cactus with a plug, you ain’t charging a damn thing.” “Wait. What?” Y/N responds, confused.

Jo sways around, her blonde braid hanging down from one shoulder. She narrows her eyes, trying to understand how her friend could be so oblivious to the fact that there won’t be any electricity where they are going. “What did my old man tell you exactly?” “That we might have to spend a couple of nights out camping,” Y/N recalls, trying to remember his exact words. “Have you ever been out camping, city girl?” Jo wonders, her tone indicating that she has figured it out. Now Y/N crosses her arms defensively. Just because she comes from a wealthy family, doesn’t mean that she has never been on a trip back to basics. “I have, as a matter of fact,” she returns confident. “Let me define ‘camping’,” Jo kicks off. “I’m talking ‘bout the sleeping-in-a-tent, no-shower-for-days, cooking-your-own-food-above-a-fire kind of camping. Not the kind where you park the luxurious double axle camper nice and close to the restaurant and the power station and get that satellite working as soon as possible so y’all can watch Netflix.”

Y/N opens her mouth to claim that she is not that kind of person, but has to admit her loss. She’s right, down to the double axle camper and the satellite TV. “So, no electricity? No shower?” she asks, intimidated by the matter, a trace of panic in her voice. “Nope,” Jo confirms, amused. “Better start prioritizing. Let me get my saddlebags, you can use those. Everything that doesn’t fit in there except for your sleeping bag, is not comin' along for the ride.” “Alright,” Y/N agrees reluctantly, nonetheless grateful for the help. “But how are you going to pack if I have your saddlebags?” “Simple: I’m not. I’m staying home,” the ranch owner’s daughter says. Astonished, the intern looks at her. Wait, her friend isn’t coming on this trail? The thought actually scares Y/N a little, because Jo has been there to guide her since she picked her up from the airport over a month ago. “Are you kidding me? Why?” “Someone has to run this joint while y’all are having fun. Usually, the stable crew guards the castle, but with Ash gone…”

Y/N drops her head, her mind going out to the former cattle worker. Ash left a week ago. Bobby gave him two weeks' notice but said he was free to go anytime. The loyal employee showed character and stayed as long as Bobby could afford to keep him. But after those fourteen days, Ash had no choice but to leave. Everyone was sad to see the quirky fellow go. The exchange of hugs between him and every member of his working family was moving to witness. “Dad offered to stay behind by himself, but he’s getting too old to work that hard,” Jo explains. “Garth and I will make sure everything runs smoothly here.” “What about me? How am I supposed to function without my conscience?” Y/N pouts. “You’ll be fine. You got Dean to hold your hand the entire way,” Jo mocks. The worried cowgirl chuckles. “That’s the whole problem now, isn’t it?” Jo gets up and intends to leave the room to get the saddlebags. She halts in the doorway, though, offering good advice. “Just remember: don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” “He’s your cousin. Of course you’re not going to sleep with him,” Y/N returns smartly, pulling a laugh from the blonde cowgirl. “See my point?” she returns, winking back before she leaves the room.

Thirty minutes later, Y/N is packed and ready, but sacrifices had to be made. Obviously, the hair iron and phone charger didn’t make the final cut, but neither did her shampoo, conditioner, and moisturizer, since she won’t be able to shower anyway. Her makeup didn’t fit into the bags either. It hurts to leave it all behind and she already feels insecure about spending days with the others wearing a blank canvas of a face. Sure she isn’t as fresh at the end of a working day as she was at the start of it, but so far she has been able to keep her hair and makeup in check. Now she won’t even have a mirror to judge how tired and ordinary she looks without a brow pencil and mascara. “You’re all set.” Jo, who is on her knees on the wooden floor fighting with the saddlebag, secures the last strap, shifts her weight back on her heels and places her hands on her narrow waistline. “I owe you one. I would have never managed alone,” Y/N says, appreciating her friend’s help. “You know you can count on me.” She shrugs it off after getting up. “I’ll lend you my raincoat and my gloves too. Never sure if you’re gonna need ’em, but if the monsoon decides to throw a curveball at ya, you’ll be thanking me.” She pops out of the room again, as excited for the intern as Y/N is herself. Jo’s bubbly personality has her smiling even after she leaves. It’s funny how it feels like they have known each other for years and yet it was only a month ago that she got into the pickup truck at the airport. One month ago, this challenge started. Her dad tries to hide the surprise in his voice every time she phones him to tell him how much she is enjoying her time here. He probably expected a plea for money. That, or a one-way ticket back to luxury and easy work.

Y/N looks at one of the pictures that she nailed to the wooden wall. It portrays her family; Mom, Dad, and her three brothers surrounding Y/N at her graduation ceremony. Sure, she misses them, but she is starting to become a part of this ranch family too. That’s how it feels anyway: accepted, wanted… even loved. Her eyes hover over the picture frames and other decorations that she used to spice up her room a little. Many of the photos show Meadow, some snapped during shows, others at home in the fields. Won belt buckles and ribbons are trophies of their success together, each memory a highlight of her partnership with the special Quarter mare. Y/N remembers when she won every single one of them.

“You’re not getting homesick, are ya?” She startles, jolted awake from her daydream, and turns her head to face her handsome supervisor. Dean leans against the doorpost, and judging by the amused expression, he has been standing there for longer than a second. Dear Lord, she got so caught in recalling past victories and happy memories, that she didn’t hear him walk up to her room. The sight of him has her lost for air, even after recovering from the scare. He stands on one leg, the other bent and crossing his back foot, resting on the nose of his boot. Fringe from his worn chaps fall down over his jeans, a dark brown Stetson to match it. Dressed in a red plaid buttoned shirt and a denim jacket over it, he looks even better than he did this morning. The handsome models in the old Marlboro commercials have nothing on him. “Don’t worry. I’m not going back anytime soon,” she responds before Dean can call her out on staring. “Besides, this is beginning to feel a lot like home, too.” The wrangler glances at the wall next to the bunk bed and lets his eyes roam over the photos, ribbons and buckles. He smiles at a goofy picture of her and her three older brothers. “I like what you’ve done with the place,” he compliments. Y/N smiles at that. “Well, I am going to be staying here for a while. Might as well make it cozy.”

He grins, his green eyes catching the rays of sunlight coming through the window. Specks of gold stand out amongst the apple green, his pupils adjusting as they flick over the captured moments. They stop when he notices a photo taken during a prize-giving ceremony. He recognizes Meadow instantly, her trademark white face is hard to miss. She stands proudly with a white and blue sash hanging from her neck, event sponsors standing next to the horse, presenting the prizes won while smiling at the camera. But the person who smiles the brightest is Y/N, who sits squarely in the saddle with a wide grin on her face and sparkles in her eyes. “You won the State Championships,” he says impressed, reading the footnote. “That’s pretty damn impressive.” Y/N lights up but stays humble. “Meadow was on fire. It was the ride of my life.” “I bet it was.” Dean watches her for a second, admiring, while she reminisces over the highlight of her riding career. Then he glances at his watch briefly. “We leave at ten. You’re all packed?”

“She is now,” Jo interrupts, holding out a rolled-up sleeping bag and neatly packed raincoat. “Gloves are in the pockets.” “Thanks, Jo.” Y/N takes them and looks over her shoulder in search of her saddlebags. Dean instantly moves in to pick them up, since she has her hands full anyway. “I got it,” he states, lifting her luggage over his shoulder. “Oh, how noble of you!” Jo teases her cousin, not at all impressed with his manors. “What are you gonna do next? Buy a white horse?” Y/N snorts, but quickly straightens her mouth into a thin line to silence herself and hide the sign of amusement. Luckily, the wrangler is too busy countering her friend, as he follows the two girls into the living room. “It’s called ‘being nice’. You should try it sometime,” Dean snarls. Before the ranch owner’s daughter pushes open the front door, she looks over her shoulder. “Would you like to hold the door for her too?” she suggests, a challenging smirk on her face. “Would you like to shut your piehole?” Dean fires back after rolling his eyes.

Y/N giggles at the bickering, and opens the door herself by pushing it with her foot. If she didn’t know any better, she would think the two are siblings. Maybe not by blood, but they spent a great deal of their childhood together in the same house, at least that’s what she understood from Jo. Over the years, the youngest Singer figured out that she might not be able to beat her older cousin when it comes down to strength and speed, but verbally she stands her ground just fine. Now is no different, because Dean might have had a comeback ready, Y/N doesn’t fail to notice the color on his cheeks. He carefully glances at her from under his hat, the cowgirl smiling back reassuringly before she descends down the stairs.

At the tack up area, the Joshua tree stands tall, offering meager shade to the horses and humans underneath its branches. It’s rush hour. Benny and Garth are readying the horses, assisted by the three riders that are coming along for the trail. Dean was against bringing people along on such a long and potentially dangerous ride, but Bobby said the tourists paid good money and were experienced, so eventually, he agreed. Eight horses are tied up to the rails around the yucca tree. Six of them will be ridden, the other two will be the group’s packhorses. Y/N spots Joplin amongst them, the feisty mare that has grown on her over the past weeks. “She’s yours for the next couple of days.” Dean points her out, heading over to the dark horse with Y/N’s baggage. “Since the two of you get along so well.”

Delighted, she faces the mare, who pushes her soft nose into the folded raincoat in her arms, sniffing up the aroma. Y/N likes the little dark horse. She is not easy, has different ideas about what the pace should be, and can get very offended when her rider tells her otherwise, but there’s something about her attitude that the intern appreciates. She’s fast, tireless from the second her rider puts a foot in the stirrup, to the second he or she gets off. The Quarter is perfect for a trail like this. It didn’t cross her mind to bring Meadow for the ride. The reining horse, which is used to train on smooth arena footing, would most likely injure herself on the uneven rocky slopes and narrow paths. The hours under saddle would be much longer than regular training too, and Y/N does not want to confront her four-legged best friend with a task that she isn’t up for. Dean swings the saddlebags over Joplin’s back and straps them to the saddle. He mounts the sleeping bag and Jo’s raincoat that he takes from the intern on top, his fingers briefly brushing against hers in the transfer. The tingling sensation lingers on the surface of her skin where he touched her, causing her to be the one who is flustered now. The wrangler carefully glances over as he secures the baggage. She feels caught, but his expression is soft and comforting; he felt it too.

“Okay, y’all! We’re goin’ in five!” Benny shouts loud enough for everyone on the square to hear with his Southern accent thick on his tongue. “If you have to use the john or forgot to pack clean undies, now would be your last chance to do so.”

Last preparations are made by the crew. Benny secures his lasso to the horn of the saddle with a leather rope strap, while Dean consults his uncle one more time before departure, the two of them looking at a map of the Superstition Mountains. Then Dean folds the map and shoves it into the inside pocket of his jacket, after which he walks over to Ted Nugent, the big brown gelding that he will be riding for the upcoming days, since his favorite buckskin is out with a tendon injury ever since that rainy morning when the cattle broke out. Ellen walks up to her nephew and hands him a paper bag which, without a doubt, contains something delicious. “Made you some pecan tassies for on the road,” she says. “Wouldn’t want you to miss my baking too much.” “Thanks, Ellen.” Dean gives her a grateful nod and puts the tassies in his saddlebag. “Be careful out there, alright?” she presses, clearly worried about the quest that lies ahead for the wranglers. “Bring them back home safely.” “I’ll take care of the bunch. I promise,” he assures comfortingly, gently pulling her into his chest after which he gives his aunt a kiss on her hair.

Ellen and Dean aren’t the only ones who exchange a few last words before the group leaves. “Okay, grasshopper. This is it,” Jo’s voice sounds from behind Y/N. She spins on her heels in between the horses to meet the ranch owner’s daughter, who folds her arms around Y/N and hugs her tight. Happily, she returns the embrace before Jo pulls back and holds her by the shoulders. “Stay away from chollas if you don’t want Joplin to turn into a two-year-old who never had a saddle on her back before. And if the horses get nervous and you hear a rattle, get the hell out of Dodge, because there’s a rattlesnake within a few feet from you. Check your–-” Y/N cuts Jo off, because she has heard this before from either her or Ellen. “I know, I know. Check my boots for spiders and scorpions before I put them on and keep the tent closed,” she fills in. “Not just to keep out insects and reptiles, but horny cowboys as well,” Jo adds. Y/N snorts. “I’ll handle him. I will miss you, though.” “I’ll miss you, too, sis,” her friend returns, smiling.

They say goodbye while Dean unties his gelding and gets on swiftly, overlooking the group from the higher point of view. “Y’all ready?” he asks the company of six. When the riders cheer, he takes the reins with one hand and pulls it gently towards him, an aid for Ted to backup and move away from the other horses. The excitement rises noticeably, comparable to what one would feel when on an aircraft just before take-off and on its way to a new destination. Some of the animals start to get restless in the thrill, Joplin included. Y/N doesn’t waste any time and pulls the safety knot in order to free the mare, then puts her left foot in the stirrup and pushes herself off the ground with her right, swinging it over the back of the black horse. “Good luck, y’all,” Bobby wishes the six men and women. “See you in a couple of days!” Jo calls out.

Y/N waves at the people staying behind, a bright smile spreading from ear to ear. Looking forward to the adventure that will come next, she straightens herself in the saddle and faces the vast landscape. She might be twenty-four, but she feels more like a seven-year-old going on a field trip. In front of the rider, a pair of alert ears belonging to Joplin point forward. Beyond that view, the promontory of the Superstition Mountains stretches out. The sun has risen from behind the ridges in the East hours ago, already warming up the valley with its strong rays.

Dean watches the young woman, consumed by a different kind of scenery as his horse follows the path. In the past few weeks, she has grown more comfortable in her role as a wrangler and a ranch hand. The daily routine is starting to become her second nature and the people she works with are her friends now. He wouldn’t have guessed it at first - and he’s quite sure she herself wouldn’t have guessed it either - but she fits in perfectly. The rich girl from upstate with a master’s degree under her belt feels at home surrounded by a bunch of country folks in the dry desert lands of the south west. Who would have thought that? Dean smiles, content; something tells him that this trip will help her blossom even more.

She could almost hear a harmonica play the theme from Once Upon A Time In The West, and she’s still waiting for tumbleweed to roll across the path. Cacti reach for the sun, their arms outstretching upward, like the giants are growing actual limbs. It’s a nice variation to the evergreens that she is used to, back in Maine. The rain that came down two weeks ago has laid a blanket of green over the dry lands; it’s amazing how nature can change in a matter of days. Jo warned her about the sun, and with good reason. Over the last month, the intern slowly but surely got used to the extreme weather circumstances that Arizona offers, but she has never been on a horse during the hottest hours of the day. It might already be late September, but the heat is blistering. She could use a shower right about now, and just the thought of not being able to take one for the next couple of days grosses her out. The temperatures weigh on the female rider, more than she thought it would, but her partner Joplin doesn’t seem to mind much. Her neck and shoulders are sweaty, but she still dribbles impatiently every now and then, eager to cover more ground.

Dean leads the group, guiding them from spring to spring. The group left the Hieroglyphic Trail about three hours ago, which ended at a small creek and a poor excuse for a waterfall. They took a break there and had a few of Ellen’s delicious pecan tassies while the horses drank. Now, they are well on their way to Willow Spring, but the trail isn’t getting any easier. As they conquer the steep slopes, the pace slows down. Y/N is amazed at how the horses are able to maneuver on the rough terrain, which consists of loose pebbles, slippery boulders, and cracked volcanic rock. One misstep could severely injure the large animals, but they seem to be aware of that. Joplin proceeds agile and fearless, almost like a bobcat, and her rider learns quickly to let her take care of the drops and jumps. She doesn’t need guidance, the mare knows the way. All Y/N has to do is sit tight and move along with her to maintain the balance.

“How y’all doing back there?” Dean is looking over his shoulder, his free hand resting on the cantle of the saddle. “We’re good!” one of the tourists assures. His name is Brad, the young guy riding next to his sister Macy and their buddy Jonathan. The head wrangler chatted a little bit with the three members of the group and they turn out to be good company. The trio is traveling across the country, enjoying a gap year from college. With Brad and Macy’s father being a rancher in Colorado, they know their way around horses. Jonathan is a little less experienced in the saddle, but he’s managing just fine. No doubt about it, though, that he’s going to be left with a serious muscle ache in the coming days. The leader of the pack shifts his eyes from them to his intern, asking her the same question silently. She nods, smiling reassuringly at her handsome supervisor, telling him in the same language that she’s doing fine. Content, Dean smiles back and winks at her before he straightens himself. It’s a good thing he’s not facing her anymore, because Y/N is sure that about a hundred butterflies hatched from their cocoons in her stomach, the feeling triggering her to take a shuddering breath. She huffs, annoyed with the response he triggered. Just look at him. He’s infuriatinglygorgeous, looking way too good on his horse, in those darn chaps, wearing that darn western hat. A part of her wants to dislike him, just for being so distracting. But she can’t be mad at him, not really. Just a glance her way with that grin and she’s a complete goner. Y/N watches as the cowboy catches up with Benny, slowing his horse down when they are side by side.

“Tell me, Chief, how are things between you and the intern goin’?” the Southerner wonders, making sure the woman in question is unable to pick up on the conversation. Dean looks aside at his best friend, amused by his curiosity. “It’s not going anywhere, really. Things are good as they are,” he claims. “Oh, c’mon, now. Did she turn you down again?” Benny guesses. Dean eyes him. “She didn’t turn me down. I just didn’t make my move.” The wrangler next to him seems to need a second to process the information. Dean Winchester didn’t make a move on a girl he likes in 0.2 seconds? That’s a new one. “Wait a minute. So you two haven’t even…?” “We’re just friends, Benny,” Dean claims, aware how terribly unconvincing it sounds the moment he pronounces the words. “Horse shit. You didn’t pass up Casey to be ‘just friends’ with the gal. You called dibs,” he reminds the head wrangler. “Besides, I see the way you look at her. You don’t look at a pal like that.”

Dean shakes his head, remembering the arrangement well. It’s not like he can deny he made that deal with the farrier, despite that it felt wrong to do so. But back then when he claimed her in order to keep his notorious friend away, he was still clueless about the affection he felt for her. The affection that steadily grew stronger to the point where he cares more about what’s best for the free young woman than what he wants for himself. “So what, Benny?” He shrugs, hoping his friend would let it go. “So what? I know it’s a little dusty here in the desert, but did you get sand in your eyes?” Benny returns, perplexed. “Look, I know she’s awesome, and yes, I wouldn’t mind hooking up with her, but I can’t, okay?” Dean claims. Unable to understand the math behind his choice, the broad-shouldered ranch hand throws him a look that somewhere between dirty and confused. “Why not?” “Well for starters, Bobby will kill me if he finds out, since he took me aside to specifically forbid me to pull anything. Secondly, she’ll only stay for six months--” Benny interrupts him, however. “Invalid, Chief. Bobby told you before to quit bouncing around with clients and staff and it never stopped you then. And since when is six months too short for you? You usually get bored with your lady friends after a--” The cowboy from the South stops mid-sentence and Dean can almost hear it click in his mind. Oh, boy. Benny has figured it out. Even though he tried to make up excuses in order to avoid being confronted by his best bud, there’s no way of dodging that bullet now. “Well, fuck a goat and call her Nancy! You’re in love with her,” Benny announces, shocked. Dean raises his eyebrows at the rider next to him, then scoffs and looks away, trying to act like the very idea is ridiculous. “That’s - that’s just… Y-you’re insane,” he stutters, unable to flat out deny it. Benny starts to laugh out loud, apparently very much amused with his discovery. “I can’t believe you walked straight into that love trap!” “Would you keep your voice down?” the rider next to him hushes. The farrier looks over the back of his horse at the intern, but she’s about thirty yards behind them talking to Macy, clueless what the two wranglers leading the group are discussing. Dean stays quiet for a few long seconds, trying to decide if he is ready to admit that she means so much to him. “She’s a nice girl, Benny. I don’t wanna hurt her,” he claims. “Oh, c’mon now! You’re seriously telling me you grew a conscience all of a sudden? You used to love ‘em and leave ‘em without a second thought.” Benny has crossed his wrists over the horn of his saddle, the reins loosely between his fingers, as he looks aside to catch anything that would indicate what’s going on in his best mate’s head. It’s clear that he’s astonished by the shift in his demeanor. “I’m gonna ignore the urge to ask you who you are and where my friend is,” the Southerner chuckles. “But is it really just her heart you’re scared to break?” Dean ponders, trying to make sense of the odds and ends that scatter his thoughts. Benny is not entirely wrong. It terrifies the wrangler to give in to these emotions. Is that maybe the true reason why he didn’t kiss Y/N that night under the Joshua tree? Or when she came looking for him after he had that argument with Ash? Maybe it’s a bit of both. “How long have we known each other? Fourteen, fifteen years now?” Dean recalls. “Give or take,” Benny confirms, looking down at the trail as he moves his hand over the mane of his horse in order to steer it a little wider around a boulder. “Do I seem like the kinda guy who does that? Fall for a girl? I liked the way things were, no attachments and all that,” the head wrangler continues, confused. “That’s the thing about falling in love, Chief. It happens to the best of us and always at a time when you least expect it. It hits you like lightning and you’re toast before you even got a clue why you’re feelin’ so crispy,” Benny says wisely.

The head wrangler glances at his companion sideways, reading into his words. It almost sounds like the Southerner knows what he’s talking about. “You’ve been there,” he realizes. “Oh, I’ve been there. I’ve been beyond falling in love, I loved her with my whole damn heart,” Benny acknowledges, smiling at the memory. “Her name was Andrea. We were both eighteen. She spent the summer with relatives in Louisiana and I was a lost cause from the moment I laid eyes on her. A Greek Goddess, and I ain’t exaggeratin’. She was pretty as a peach! Kind, funny as hell, too.” “Since she’s ain’t here, I reckon it didn’t end well?” Dean assumes again. “It didn’t; she went back to Greece and I moved here because everything reminded me of her at home,” his friend tells him. “You know you just proved my point, right?” the head wrangler says, a hint of triumph in his voice trying to mask the sadness in his eyes. “If love always comes to bite you in the ass, why even bother?” “‘Cause the heartache ain’t the clue, brother. What I had with Andrea was so good, so pure, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Even if I knew what I know now, how it would end, I would take that plunge again without a doubt in my mind.” Dean huffs, unable to believe that. “Despite that she left you?” “Fuck, yeah,” Benny states. “Better to love and to lose, than to not have loved at all.”

Dean is quiet now. The path narrows and he holds Ted back a little, merging behind Benny’s horse. As he lets his friend’s words sink in, he glances down the slope at the intern again. She’s several yards down the steep hill, focused on Joplin as she rides her up the trail. Her braided hair already has strands peeking out from under her hat, and he is sure if she had a mirror she would fix the mess, but he loves it. He loves it when the wind rustles her locks, or when the desert dust smudges her skin. Once again that feeling overcomes him, the feeling of a lantern being lit in the pit of his stomach, warming his body as it slowly rises through his core to his chest, where the heat lingers. It feels so good, but there’s a catch to the sensation. It comes with the emotion that creeps up on him when he lays awake at night thinking about Y/N; fear. The fear of her leaving him after her internship. The fear of her reaction if he would let her witness the scar tissue that lays thick on his soul. The fear that this love will consume him, just like the love for Mom consumed his father. The fear of failing her. But now that the true meaning of Benny’s message dawns on him, another kind surfaces. It’s a thought that he hasn’t had before, and as it pops into his head, the question reverberates louder through his mind than all the others. What if he misses his chance? What if there are only so many opportunities to win her over?

He straightens himself before she looks ahead and spots him staring, and he closes his eyes and tips his hat forward. Shit, you’ve been so worried about losing her that you forgot that in order to lose her, you have to have her first, he thinks to himself. A sigh slips from his dry mouth, reminding him how thirsty he is. He reaches for his water bottle from his saddlebag, pulls out the cap with his teeth and gulps down the water, knocking his head back as he takes a few swigs. Nope, he’s not dehydrated. In fact, he’s still having these contradicting thoughts. When he slips the bottle back where he took it from, his eyes wander down the path again, this time looking straight into hers. As he tries to decide on his next move, he holds her gaze as she smiles up at him. Dean wasted two shots already; what if it’s three strikes, you’re out? If he fucks this up, at least he tried, but if he won’t give this a try at all, he’ll beat himself up over it for the rest of his life. Either way, failure seems to be inevitable.

Then he remembers something. Something that he was taught at a very young age. He had just turned four when he took a fall off the neighbor’s Shetland pony. It was the first time he had rode alone without his mom holding the miniature horse and the naughty pony took advantage of that situation. The Shetland picked up speed and bucked once, sending him straight into the dirt. After making sure that her son was okay, he recalls his mom picking him up. “You wanna give it another go?” she asked. “No…” he said. “So that’s it? You never wanna ride again?” she questioned again, her voice gentle. Now he was quiet, not sure how to answer that. “I don’t wanna fall off,” he mumbled eventually, looking down at the ground. “Falling is a part of riding, sweety. It’s a part of life. It’s okay to fall,” she told him. “But it hurts,” he said, rubbing his scraped elbow. “And it’s scary.” “Yeah, sometimes falling can be very scary,” Mom acknowledged. “But you won’t get any better if you stop trying. You have to face what you’re scared of, to grow. You know what they say about falling?” He shook his little head, waiting for the elaboration patiently. “You have to fall off seven times before you'll become a good rider,” she says. “Seven?!” he repeats, eyes wide. “Seven,” Mom pointed out. “But you know how he becomes a great horseman?” Dean shook his head again and listened eagerly. All that he wanted was to become a horseman, so this was the time to pay attention. “A good rider becomes a great horseman when he falls seven times and gets up eight.”

The wise words always stuck with Dean as he grew older. He remembers when he was twelve and got back to his feet after his seventh crash landing, this time from a young bronc. He was a horseman now, because he got up beaming, and brushed the dirt from his jeans. Every time when life beat him down, he did the same. Sadly, Mom wasn’t there to see her son become a horseman. She was long gone by the time he reached that age, but her life lessons will never be forgotten. Life is filled with setbacks. No one walks this journey without encountering them. For some that one setback is enough reason to give up and never become good at anything, for others, it’s a way to push through. And yes, getting up and trying again is not easy. But Mom taught him to look fear in the eye and get back in the saddle anyway, because quitting will definitely not get him anywhere. Whenever he hit the ground, literally or metaphorically, he would think of that memory. Now is no different. Mom was right; he has to face what scares him in order to grow.

Dean slows down his horse, pulling the bit just enough to stop Ted, giving the horse behind him a chance to catch up. When Joplin comes alongside, he glances at the rider from under his Stetson. “Hello, Cowboy,” she greets, a small but delighted smile on her lips. Dean chuckles at that, his eyes not leaving hers. “Hey, beautiful,” he returns. The compliment brightens her eyes even more and heats up her cheeks. The trail barely allows the two of them to ride side by side, their stirrups touching occasionally. He aches for her knee to brush his like he would crave rain after a long desert ride. When the denim of her jeans does rub against him, it leaves him electrified. And then he realizes that Benny is right, too. It is better to love and to lose, than to not have loved at all.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to reblog my work or buy me coffee (Link in bio at the top of the page)

Read part eleven here

#Ride With Me #Dean x Reader #Cowboy!Dean #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester series #Dean Winchester AU #Cowboy!Dean x Reader #Supernatural #SPN #Supernatural AU #spn au fanfiction #Dean x Y/N #Dean reader insert #Dean Winchester reader insert #Dean Winchester fanfic #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Dean angst #Dean fluff #Kate Huntington

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 5 years ago

Text

Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Ten

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Notes: Sorry this took so long!! The phrase with the * next to it is slang for, ‘Do you have a steady boyfriend?’

Summary: “He tried to enlist again. Apparently the punk’s from Paramus now.” Warnings: None?

Rating: T (this may change)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

“Hey, what do you want for— For dinner— Stevie?” I called out after him, but he was a blonde streak of irritation charging down the hall. I heard Bucky shut the door behind him. “What was that?” I asked, eyes still on Steve’s door. I heard Bucky sign. “He tried to enlist again. Apparently the punk’s from Paramus now.” My heart dropped into my stomach. I folded my arms over my chest and cocked my hip, watching the hall like Steve would make a break for Germany alone if we didn’t keep an eye out. “Of course he did,” I sighed. Bucky hummed, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “I take it it didn’t go well,” I added. “It did not. He just needs some time to cool down. ‘Sides, I’m takin’ you both out tonight,” Bucky said. I raised a brow. “What’s the occasion?” I asked, turning my head to look, but he didn’t have the time to answer me. I didn’t even get my head all the way around before my forehead bumped into the brim of his hat. I pulled out of his arms, turning on him and looking him over.

I’d seen Bucky in his dress uniform once before. It was a grainy photograph he’d taken with his mother and sister before shipping off. He’d told me he’d be seeing Rebecca that morning; that photo had already been taken.

He looked handsome and I hated him for it. There was a resignation and calmness to his face that I’d never seen before. His hat was tipped slightly to the side, stylish.

“You got your...” I started. He nodded.

“My orders,” he confirmed softly.

For a woman that had lived in two different eras, I somehow felt that I would never have enough time.

I wasn’t going to cry, not now and definitely not in front of Bucky.

“Where are you taking us?” I asked quietly. He smiled, cupping my chin up and pressing a warm kiss to my lips. I flinched when he said,

“The future.”

——-

“Welcome to the Modern Marvels Pavilion and the world of tomorrow…A greater world… A better world.” I looked around, amazed that even in the of the worst war in human history, there was such hope for the future. I held Bucky’s hand as we walked, Steve sticking close by on my other side. Bucky was like a kid in a candy store, looking at all of the emerging tech, excitedly pointing things out to me and Steve.

I could tell that it was beyond putting on a brave face. It was his last night in the city and he was doing something he loved with the people he loved. I gave Steve’s hand a squeeze from time to time. I didn’t know what I was trying to reassure him of: that I’d miss Bucky too, that he wouldn’t be alone, that I wasn’t going anywhere. He’d always squeeze back and shoot me a soft smile to let me know he appreciated it. “Hey!” Bucky gripped my hand, tugging me and Steve toward a stage people were crowded around. There were women in top hats, tails, and shorts crowded around a red car. “Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Howard Stark!”

Tony Stark was the most prolific inventor of my time: rich, brilliant, didn’t do too bad for the ladies. And considering the kiss that his dad planted on one of the showgirls, it was something that ran in the family.

A woman screamed her love for him somewhere in the crowd, and from the little I knew about the inventor, I thought she might actually have a chance with the guy.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what if I told you that in just a few short years, your automobile won’t even have to touch the ground at all?” I managed to hold in a snort. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone with the fact that the streets were still absolutely littered with cars in 2012. Still, I watched, stunned as the automobile actually hovered for a moment before it spluttered and crashed back to the floor. “Jeez,” I mumbled, raising a brow. “Brilliant, ain’t he?” Bucky murmured, nudging me. “I mean the fact that he even got it off the ground,” I shook my head. Howard was still on stage, chucking and taking the applause in. “Hey Steve,” Bucky piped up, “What do you say we treat our girl to…” He trailed off, and I turned to follow his gaze. Steve was nowhere to be found. “Where’s he gotten to now?” I asked, looking around to try and spot him in the crowd. Bucky nodded back in the direction of an Uncle Sam poster. “I think I got some idea,” He said before looking down at me, “Give us a couple of minutes, huh? Grab something to eat,” He said, pressing two quarters into my hand. I nodded, heading for the snack stand but keeping an eye on Bucky on the way.

Bucky went to war in 1942. Steve was given the serum in 1942. These were things that I knew had happened— would have to happen. “Hey sugar, you rationed?”* I hadn’t realized I’d stopped moving until I heard the voice in front of me. I blinked dumbly for a moment at Howard Stark.

“Yes,” I said crisply. Howard raised a brow. “Your sweetie away at war?” “About to be,” I answered. Howard chucked me under the chin. “Cheer up,” He cooed. “Hey, Mr. Stark! Over here?” We turned to see a cameraman holding his camera up, waving me closer to Howard. I made to step away, but the inventor looped his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. “Smile, sugar,” He grinned. I didn’t. I couldn’t. As soon as the cameraman stepped away I shrugged Howard off roughly, determined to find Bucky and Steve and go home.

I could hear them before I saw them, the old married couple bickering I’d heard a hundred times before. “What do you want me to do, collect scrap metal in my little red wagon?” “Yes! Why not?” I rounded the corner to see Bucky and Steve staring one another down. “I’m not gonna sit in a factory Bucky— Bucky! Come on. There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.” “Right. ‘Cause you got nothing to prove.” I watched Steve’s jaw set. I looked around the center, scooping out to see if anyone else was watching this little fight. Someone was. An older, well-dressed man with round glasses dark scruff stood not too far away, listening intently on the conversation. I looked away quickly, not ready to face what the the future would hold for either of them. I cleared my throat. “Hey sarge,” I called out, getting Bucky’s attention, “We going dancing?” “Yes we are,” He said airily before turning back to Steve. “Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” He said softly. “How can I?” Steve asked, “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” I smiled, straightening up and drifting toward the two as they embraced. “You’re a punk.” “Jerk.” Bucky gave Steve one more long look before he took hold of my hand. I looked over my shoulder at Steve, then at the old man. “What’s he gonna do?” I asked, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. “He’s gonna be Steve,” Bucky said simply, “And if there’s a God above he’ll be home with you by morning.” Bucky looped his arm around my waist. “Cheer up, doll. It’s my last night at home and they’re playing our song.” I smiled, leaning against Bucky and pressing a kiss to his cheek. ——-

“I… I can’t tell you everything. I mean, ‘m not supposed to,” Steve said lightly. It probably didn’t help that I’d been crying for the last two days. I’d cried when Bucky got up to leave for the train, I cried watching Bucky get on the train, I cried at work, and I cried when I got home and found Steve packing. “You don’t have to worry,” He soothed, or tried to as he stroked my hair. I scoffed through my tears, shaking my head. “No, ‘course not. The two people I love most in the world are heading off to the war, I have no right to panic at all, I should be level-headed and—“ “You always knew this would happen.” I pushed off of the bed, rounding it and leaning against the wall by the window. It was easier to distract myself with the sights and sounds of the city than to look at Steve’s things all packed. “This is my chance.” His tone was pleading. I nodded, looking down at my feet. His came into view moments later and he reached up, brushing my tears away. “I’ll send money home for rent,” He said softly. I shook my head. “Last month’s paid,” I said. I still had my place at the boarding house, I’d never given it up. Steve nodded. He stepped away again and I turned to look out of the window. Summer was closing in fast; the apartment would get hot and stuffy and it was better that Steve would be getting out of here at least; the city heat was always bad for his asthma. “Here.” I turned my head to see Steve holding a small box out. I frowned, taking it from him and opening it. I looked down at the locket there; it was clearly old, a little tarnished, but beautiful. I opened it and sucked in a small breath. Bucky’s face was on one side, and Steve’s, the other. “It was mom’s…This way we’ll always be close by,” He said softly. Steve didn’t wake me before he left. That was fine by me; I couldn’t take another round of goodbyes.I closed my eyes again as the early morning light crept into the silent apartment, willing that giant bed to swallow me whole.

Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr@moli1497@adayinmymeadow @allonszassbutt @mannls

#Love Isn't Always on Time #Bucky Barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #stucky #stucky x you #stucky x reader

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