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rkived · 4 years ago

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━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 03 | JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) time jumps, mention of divorce, blood mention ((but like nothing serious)), forced kisses, just sad stuff like this is sad guys lol

↳ WORD COUNT: 8.6k

↳ EXCERPT: ‘‘Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on. He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.’’

↳ A/N: getting this chapter out has been ((a pain in the ass)) tough !! & cp was supposed to end with this chapter but that was not realistic at all lmao but i do hope u like this n i’ll try to get pt4 quickly as possible <3 thx

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

‘‘Okay everyone, let’s switch to the upward facing dog!’’

You really don’t want to be here. There’s a lot of stuff running through your head right now that are more important than focusing on yoga positions. You wish you were thinking about grocery shopping or paying that month’s bills.

Instead, you’re still stuck on the downward facing dog as your mind tells you you’re an idiot, a homewrecker and most importantly, a terrible friend.

‘‘Y/N, upward facing dog!’’ The instructor, Namjoon, reminds you with a gentle smile as he notices you haven’t switched positions like the rest of the class. You nod and smoothly place your body as he had taught in the classes before.

The only reason why you came to your Saturday morning yoga class was because even with all that happened last night, you wanted to feel a sense of normality. Like you’re capable of going on about your life like nothing had happened.

That’s selfish and stupid because as much as you tried, every single moment since you woke up revolved around last night.

From the moment you opened your eyes, noticing Sunhi wasn’t sleeping next to you, snuggled into your chest like you had last remembered her to be before she fell asleep and you following soon after.

And as your heart beat faster at the thought of finding her in her dad’s arms instead, watching Saturday morning cartoons on the T.V in your living room; you instead found the place neat and tidy. The messy pillows on your couch where placed like they hadn’t even been moved to begin with, like no one besides you had been in the apartment the night before.

Somehow he managed to do all of this without you even noticing. You wondered at what time he woke up, cleaned up, took Sunhi without making any fuss and left, all before your 7 AM alarm could wake you up.

He even made you breakfast too. Some eggs, bacon and toast.

‘‘Y/N, your legs are touching the mat.’’ Namjoon notes as he stands in front of you, ‘‘Let’s focus, okay?’’

You nod once again, though this time a little more embarrassed. If only you could explain to your instructor why you’re so distracted.

No messages either. No text explaining why he had to leave so early. No sticky note placed on your fridge door about how he made you breakfast. No slight shake to your sleeping body to let you know that he’d be taking Sunhi. Nothing.

Would’ve you liked that, though?

You could say yes because he’s your friend and it’s only fair since you took care of his daughter the night before.

But it’s not right, because friends don’t kiss each other, let alone the way you had let him kiss you and touch you while his daughter slept in your room and his wife waited for both of them at home.

There was a war going on inside you between your brain and your heart.

Your heart, being a weak ass bitch, was telling you about how exciting everything was. How nice it felt to have Jungkook tell you that he wanted to be with you, that he no longer felt happy with his wife, how perfectly his lips encaptured your own and how you could still feel them on you.

But your brain, obviously being the logical one between the two, reminded you about how wrong it was. You had never wanted to be placed in a position of being ‘‘the other woman’’. That even though you might not like Jiwoo and had spent years hoping your friend would someday wake up and realize this too, this didn’t feel right.

‘‘Alright, let’s drink some water now.’’ Namjoon announces, clasping his hands together and showing off that dimple that most ─if not all─ of the students went heart eyes over.

You take the time to check your phone instead, you don’t need the water because you didn’t do shit anyway. There’s no text from Minji, who you’re scared will somehow, by the grace of everything that’s holy, find out about what you did. No text from Jungkook either and you’re wondering why he hasn’t bothered to send one.

Instead, there’s a text from Taehyung and you mutter a curse.

[8:34 AM] Taehyung: hey y/n! i’m sure you’re in your yoga class rn but i wanted to see if maybe you’d be up for lunch at my place? i’ll try and cook something nice :)

Ah, of course that throughout all of this you forgot about Taehyung.

The sweet guy who had stuck around only for you to pay him back by kissing your best friend, the one Taehyung had to pretend wasn’t bothered by his interruption that night a few weeks ago.

God, you do have a way to fuck things up for yourself.

You don’t know how long you stood there thinking what to reply to him, but it definitely was for a few minutes because you only came back to reality once you heard your name being called once by the instructor.

‘‘Y/N,’’ Namjoon repeats and you look over at him with a puzzled look, ‘‘we’re starting again, if you’d like to join us.’’ There’s that smile again. Bless his patience, you wonder if he’s actually this calm because of yoga or he’s just really good at pretending.

You look back down at your phone, the screen displaying a text that’s still waiting to be replied to.

‘‘I uhm─I gotta go, sorry.’’ You quickly reply, making Namjoon look at you with wide eyes, but he makes no effort to stop you either.

And as quickly as you can, you collect your belongings before you’re heading out the door without saying goodbye.

Either you quit yoga altogether or just apologize to Namjoon like a grownup next Saturday. Whatever it is, you’re not thinking about what decision to make about your little extracurricular right now.

There’s only so much you can handle at a time.

Jungkook is lucky that Jiwoo works Saturday mornings because with her away, he’s able to enter his house without having to sneak in.

He opens the door wide, making way for him and a slightly awake Sunhi in his arms. He drops the keys on the counter without caring about the noise it makes. He doesn’t even have to pretend like he’s walking on glass, his boots are allowed to hit the wooden floor without a care in the world.

The place doesn’t look much different from what he had left it like the day before. There’s only a dirty glass on the sink, a product of Jiwoo’s daily breakfast smoothies and since she’s always in a rush she never has time to clean it up.

‘‘Are you still sleepy, pumpkin?’’ he quietly asks his daughter and she nods, he doesn’t blame her since he’s the one who woke her up at 6 AM. ‘‘Alright, I’ll take you to your bed,” he says, a kiss on her head following shortly after.

He wonders if Jiwoo enjoyed herself last night. No daughter and no husband, sounds like an ideal night for her. It’s not like she was worried about their whereabouts either, considering she hadn’t even bothered to text him wondering why they hadn’t come home.

If Jungkook’s supposed to feel guilty, he isn’t.

He’s heard stories before about how there’s a voice in your head constantly reminding you about what you did and how wrong it is. That he’ll be unable to sleep knowing he cheated on his wife while she lies next to him. That he won’t be able to look at her again without feeling remorse all over him.

And when Jiwoo returns home at noon, there’s none of that at all. He offers her a nod of acknowledgement once she enters the living room to find him sitting with his laptop, watching through old videos that he took years back.

She puts her index finger up, telling him to give her a minute. She’s on a phone call with a friend of hers that Jungkook can only conclude is Hyeri, who he probably met at some point but can’t remember what her face looked like.

‘‘I know! Like, why do you have to be such a bitch about it? We get that you’re sucking the boss’s dick in private, so you might as well─’’

Jiwoo’s voice is too distracting and so, Jungkook places his earphones in to hear what this video’s audio is about. Once he does, he hits play and the audio is loud enough to drown out Jiwoo’s whining.

‘‘Guess who came to see you, Pumpkin?’’

Jungkook gasps as he remembers this was part of a series of videos he was supposed to show Sunhi once she was old enough to understand them. He recorded a few until he was drowning in work to even grab his camera again. It saddens him that he wasn’t able to continue.

He decides he’ll show them to her later because right now Sunhi is too busy playing with her dolls inside her room to even pay attention to him.

‘‘It’s auntie Y/N! And she came bearing gifts,’’ Jungkook smiles, switching the focus on you ‘‘is that a Fisher Price Taco Tuesday toy set that I see?’’ he wonders in a fake curious tone as you look at him with narrowed eyes ‘‘I wonder how she knew you wanted that, Sunhi. It’s not like your dad had it on his Amazon wishlist or anything.’’

‘‘Very funny.’’ You mumble, handing him the toys so you could go ahead and grab a tiny three-month-old Sunhi from the bed ‘‘Aren’t you the cutest little bean in this entire world? Aren’t you?’’ you coo at the little girl, who looks at you with wide eyes and you’re forced to blink a couple of times because she looks just like him.

‘‘Of course she is, she’s my spitting image!’’ Jungkook confirms your thought as he grabs Sunhi’s cheek gently with his fingers and squeezes, making the baby giggle.

You side-eye him and then focus your attention back on the baby in your hands, ‘‘No, you’re not, Sunhi. Your daddy is not cute at all.’’

‘‘You’re gonna make me put this camera down and have a discussion about this.’’

Jungkook chuckles at the footage, noticing how he made you smile because of his comment. The video isn’t long, it’s mostly you cooing to a then tiny Sunhi, giggling at the way you would nuzzle your nose into her belly as Jungkook laughed behind the camera.

‘‘Jungkook, look at her!’’ You practically squeal as Sunhi grabs your thumb with her little hand ‘‘Oh my gosh, I think I’m gonna cry.’’

He laughs as he does a close-up of his daughter holding on to your finger, until he hears the little sniffle you let out and the camera is now focused on you silently wiping a tear away.

‘‘Wait, you’re actually crying?’’ Jungkook asks in disbelief and you turn to look at him to find the lens focused on you ‘‘Sunhi, you’re Auntie Y/N loves you so much that she’s crying! How cute.’’

‘‘You’re so dumb, seriously.’’ you mumble with a frown, going back to gawking at the baby still holding on to your thumb.

Jungkook sighs, ‘‘I’m gonna have to bleep that out, y’know?’’

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, caressing Sunhi’s stomach. Jungkook whispers ‘cute’, so soft that you’re unable to hear it.

Once it ends, Jungkook is able to see his smiling face as it reflects on the black screen and it’s only then he realized he’d been grinning the whole time. Now his ears are filled with Jiwoo talking over the phone and his smile goes back to a straight line.

Jungkook closes the video and clicks on the next one, hoping that it’s one that involves you as well. He’s unable to press play because Jiwoo is suddenly standing in front of him, arms crossed and she’s no longer talking on her phone.

‘‘Yes?’’ He asks, removing an earbud to show her she has his full attention.

‘‘So, where were you last night?’’

Jungkook’s slightly surprised that she cares. He tends to forget there’s still some humanity left in her after all, ‘‘At Y/N’s.’’ he answers with a shrug, eyes going back to stare at the screen of his laptop.

Jiwoo scoffs and he’s forced to look at her again, eyebrow slightly raised. He hopes she doesn’t start because it’s too early and it’s a Saturday. But Jiwoo doesn’t like taking breaks like he does.

‘‘I thought you said that she wasn’t going to be able to take care of Sunhi on Fridays.’’ There’s bitterness in her tone, ‘‘so, what were you doing there?’’

Jungkook understands where Jiwoo’s curiosity comes from, but it’s strange. She’s never been the type to ask where he’s been, what he’s doing with Sunhi while she’s not around ─which is practically all the time─ and doesn’t care for your business either.

‘‘I just stopped by.’’ Jungkook mutters, stroking the nape of his neck in an attempt to not seem suspicious, ‘‘We hung out and Sunhi fell asleep, she didn’t wanna come back home.’’

And that’s true, Jiwoo narrows her eyes at him as if she’s debating whether or not to believe him and the excuse of their sleeping daughter. She doesn’t know Sunhi that well to conclude if it’s possible or not.

‘‘And what, did you all three sleep together in the same bed? Playing family, maybe?’’

Jungkook looks at her in disbelief. This is a first.

‘‘What?’’ Is all he’s able to muster because he’s genuinely shocked at her accusation.

Jiwoo rolls her eyes, ‘‘Oh, please. Like I’m going to buy that hanging out bullshit.’’ Jungkook looks like a deer stuck in headlights and she chuckles, ‘‘Is what I give to you not enough?’’

‘‘I─what are you on about?’’

He figures this is her picking a fight because he wasn’t around yesterday to attend her needs like he usually does every Friday night. But Jungkook’s mind is quick to remind him of what he did and it’d be really ironic if he denies Jiwoo’s accusations, that for the first time are actually true.

‘‘I carried around that girl for nine months, ruined my body because of her, all for you to pick someone else over me?’’ Jiwoo’s voice is raised a little higher and Jungkook can’t help but look over at Sunhi’s bedroom door and hope his daughter is not listening to anything coming from the living room. ‘‘I knew I should’ve never trusted her, I always knew your friendship with her was fucking weird.’’

Jungkook doesn’t want to raise his voice either. It’s not going to get them anywhere. But he can’t stand the way she’s speaking about his daughter and you, she’s never crossed those boundaries before.

‘‘Are you insane? How can you talk about your daughter like she’s nothing?’’ Jungkook spats out, ‘‘I’ve always been thankful for what you did, I know the shit you went through to bring her into this world.’’

But Jiwoo doesn’t care about how loud she’s being, ‘‘You’re so thankful you pay me back by fucking your best friend? While I’m alone over here waiting for you to come back?’’

Jungkook has to take a deep breath and close his eyes for a second, before he loses it.

He clears his throat, ‘‘Jiwoo, I have always chosen you. Always. I did back when I was a sophomore, I did it when I asked you to marry me, and I did it when I chose you to be the mother of my children. So, I don’t know what─’’

‘‘I don’t give a flying fuck if you chose me! I was supposed to be all of that either way, Jungkook.’’ She interjects.

Was she, though? Of course, she was his girlfriend then. It would make sense that she’d be the one to end up marrying him, having his kids and living the happy life everyone guaranteed he’d live alongside her.

But he hasn’t been thinking about the choices he ended up taking back then. Instead, he’s been wondering about the ‘what if’s and Jiwoo isn’t in any of them.

Jungkook’s been daydreaming for months now about how different his life would’ve turned out if he had never asked the pretty girl in his class all those years back and instead had focused his attention somewhere else. Or someone else..

‘‘Are you going to answer me?’’ Jiwoo’s stern voice brings him back to the reality he hates, ‘‘Were you going to pick me or was I a second choice?’’ She slowly asks, giving him an opportunity to digest every single word she spoke.

‘‘You weren’t a second choice,’’ he mumbles and his gaze has faltered and instead focused back on the screen of his laptop. Clicking on a video randomly, trying to distract himself from the situation at hand. Hoping that whatever he says is enough for Jiwoo to leave him alone.

It doesn’t help that the video automatically plays and it’s you on the first frame, a big smile as you hold Sunhi towards the camera, making her wiggle in your arms.

What if.

‘‘Show me that you love me, then.’’

The video still plays as Jungkook looks back at Jiwoo standing right in front of him, her arms are still crossed, but the look on her face is different. Her brows are no longer furrowed and Jungkook might be wrong, but he thinks her eyes look glossy.

He doesn’t act quickly enough and she takes the laptop from him, closing it before she can even notice what is it that has garnered his attention. Jiwoo straddles his lap and he jumps slightly at the action, placing her arms around his neck as she looks at him with innocent eyes.

If he didn’t know her, he would’ve believed them.

‘‘Jiwoo, let’s not─’’

‘‘I missed you yesterday,’’ she interjects in a whisper ‘‘show me that you love me right now.’’

Her lips latch onto his neck, biting and sucking on the skin as he tries to wriggle himself out of her hold, but her hands push at his chest so he can stay still.

‘‘C’mon,’’ she mumbles ‘‘show me.’’ She’s pleading by then.

He feels nothing. There’s no electricity in Jiwoo’s kisses. No tingles on his back, no goosebumps on his skin, no fireworks going off. If anything, everytime her lips meet his skin it feels bitter, like they don’t belong there at all.

‘‘Daddy, come please!’’ The muffled voice of Sunhi inside her room interrupts the one-sided moment and Jungkook is silently thanking her.

Jiwoo doesn’t make an effort to move as she keeps kissing on all the exposed skin he has to offer. Jungkook sighs in frustration as he forces her off him, making her land beside him with an astonished expression.

Her hands tighten into fists as she looks at him like he’s gone insane, ‘‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’’ She asks in disbelief.

Jungkook blinks, ‘‘Did you─?’’ He gestures with his finger over to his daughter’s room, ‘‘Sunhi is calling me.’’

His wife scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest again, ‘‘Of course, you always go running when it comes to her.’’

Contrary to his belief, there is no humanity left in Jiwoo at all. She’s just really good at pretending like she cares so she can get her way. This is the last time Jungkook falls for this trick.

Jungkook opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He repeats this action a few times, to stammer something out. Anything. But there’s nothing besides the expecting silence of his wife as she chuckles incredulously. Jungkook ignores this and turns around, a second away from opening Sunhi’s bedroom door─

‘‘You’re a waste of a husband.’’ Jiwoo sneered.

His hand drops from the door handle and he sighs, taking a deep breath in and out.

He looks back at her, ‘‘You know what, Jiwoo? I wasn’t lying when I said you weren’t my second choice.’’ he informs and her eyebrow raises up ‘‘But you aren’t my first choice now either.’’

Jiwoo scowls and heaves in anger, ready to let hell loose on him ‘‘I knew that who─’’

‘‘It’s Sunhi,’’ he states and Jiwoo closes her mouth before she can even finish her sentence. ‘‘Ever since I knew you were pregnant with her, she’s been at the top of my list and she’ll always be there. I don’t care what you do or say to me, I really don’t. You don’t love me, Jiwoo.’’

At the accusation, her eyes soften and she’s standing up to argue that it’s not true, but Jungkook raises his hand in a motion to stop her.

‘‘You don’t love me and I don’t love you.’’

Jungkook expected her to start yelling at him like she usually did, but Jiwoo’s rendered speechless on her spot as she stares at him, blinking rapidly.

‘‘I don’t love you,’’ he repeats ‘‘and I haven’t loved you for a while now. I don’t remember the last time my heart raced up when I saw you or when I stopped enjoying kissing you. And I’m sorry, because I should’ve told you instead of pretending like I did.’’

Jiwoo’s motionless as she takes all of his words in.

‘‘But I did it for her because I didn’t want her to hate me if you ever left. But that was a dumb idea because you don’t care about Sunhi. And frankly, I doubt she cares about you either. She never speaks about you, never asks about you, she’s used to you not being here even if you sort of are.’’

Jungkook places his hand over the doorknob once again and Jiwoo grimaces.

‘‘I should’ve never begged you to come back. I should’ve thought about what you wanted and it’s always been clear to me what that is,’’ Jungkook swallows the knot he feels in his throat ‘‘and it’s never been Sunhi or me.’’

‘‘Jungkook.’’

He thinks she’s about to tell him how sorry she is. That she’ll recognize how heartless she’s been and how she not only failed him, but failed their daughter too. Maybe beg for a final try at their relationship as she promises she’ll change this time.

Jungkook hums and spares her one last glance.

Jiwoo has a stoic expression on her face and she speaks under her breath, but clear enough for him to hear, ‘‘Sign the papers when you get them.’’

You expect Minji to just jump at you any minute now because if looks could kill, you’d be dead already. Maybe you should’ve pretended like you weren’t home and let Minji knock on your door until she’d give up, but even you knew better than that.

It was better to face her now than to deal with her accumulated wrath later.

‘‘When were you going to tell me?’’ She suddenly asks and it takes you by surprise because it had been way too silent since you had let her in.

Minji works like a predator, she attacks when you least expect it and right now you definitely feel like you’re about to be eaten.

‘‘I─uh…’’

She sighs and you can see the disappointment in her face, ‘‘Were you going to tell me at all?’’

You nod instead, not trusting yourself enough to speak at the moment.

It had been a week since the event in your living room and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair as you stare at your friend, who’s sitting on the couch where everything went down.

‘‘Then why did I have to find out through Taehyung?’’ She asks in a disappointed tone.

You figured he’d tell her. It’s not like you asked him not to do so, but you had silently prayed that the universe was on your side on this one and by some unknown reason they wouldn’t bump into each other at work and Minji, like she usually did, wouldn’t ask him about you. Because if she did, then he’d have to explain how you had broken the news that you had made out with your best friend; the one Minji despised with her soul.

A sigh escapes your lips as you lower your head with shame.

You were supposed to tell her, but every time you took your phone and tried to dial or text her, your nerves got the best of you and ended up chickening out, promising that you’d do it the next day. Then the next day. And the next day.

It’s not like you’re scared of Minji─well, maybe only slightly. But you know the effort she put into getting you to go out and meet someone new, someone that’s not married and not a father. She’s known Taehyung for so long, probably even told him how much of a good girl you were to convince him to take you out, only for you to end up throwing all of that in the trash like it was nothing.

Minji’s also spent years pushing you to move on from your friendship with Jungkook. Not just because she doesn’t like him, but because she’s always felt like he’s held you back while he’s made his way in life. You’ve stuck behind him making sure that he’s okay and happy, forgetting about yourself in the process.

‘‘I’m not angry at you,’’ she speaks softly, making you look up at her with surprise. ‘‘I just─He gave you a second chance, Y/N. Why did you say no?’’ Her words are laced with curiosity and you know that she’s asking because even Taehyung wasn’t able to give her an answer to this question.

Your bottom lip trembles and you’re trying your hardest not to burst into tears in front of him. You can’t and you won’t. How even dare you to do that?

‘‘I’m sorry,’’ you whisper and your eyes shift down to the wooden floor of his apartment. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’ You repeat, knowing it’s not enough.

Taehyung gulps and his crossed arms quickly fall to his sides as he realizes that, whatever anger he felt when you told him about what you did, was no longer there the moment he saw how genuinely apologetic you looked.

‘‘I’m an idiot, I know.’’ You continue, rubbing your clammy hands into the material of your leggings and it does nothing to dry them. ‘‘I’m sorry, Taehyung.’’

He knows he shouldn't be so easily swayed by your apology, but he can’t help but want to cradle you in his arms. And when he does, your eyebrows raise in surprise as you gasp because you weren’t expecting this.

You expected anger, insults thrown out about how you’re a slut and being kicked out of his apartment with him telling you to never contact him again.

Taehyung’s still sweet even when his heart is getting broken.

‘‘It’s okay,’’ he whispers into your hair as one of his hands runs up and down your back ‘‘we can work this out, yeah?’’

You bite the tip of your tongue as you take his words in, feeling your heart speeding up even faster than what it was when you spilled everything out on him. Maybe you would’ve preferred him getting angry than his current reaction.

‘‘It’s not like we were exclusive, right?’’ Taehyung chuckles, but it feels like he’s convincing himself that that was the reason as to why it happened. ‘‘Let’s forget it, seriously.’’

A shaky sigh comes out of your mouth as your arms, that hadn’t reciprocated his hug, gain the strength to separate yourself from him. He looks taken aback, but he’s waiting for you to reply in agreement because, yes, you could work this out if you try hard enough.

But that’s not realistic. Pretending like you never kissed Jungkook is not realistic at all, because it’s sad to admit that you won’t be able to kiss Taehyung again without thinking about your best friend in the back of your head as you’re reminded that not only did you let him kiss you, but you reciprocated and not only did you reciprocate, but you liked it a little too much.

‘‘Y/N,’’ he speaks up, snapping you from your thoughts,‘‘please, let’s just try.’’ He silently asks─no, begs.

The barking of his dog, Yeontan, startles you as you come to stare at the little dog at the feet of his owner, who at the moment isn’t interested to see what he wants. You never told Taehyung, but the teacup pomeranian was extremely overprotective of him.

He’s barking at you like you’re hurting his owner and maybe you aren’t physically doing any damage, but you know that you’re about to break his heart all over again.

‘‘I-I…,’’ you blink as you try to focus on the man in front of you and not the dog on the ground, ‘‘I’m sorry, I can’t.’’

Yeontan’s barks increase and Taehyung is at a loss for words to beg you to stay and talk things through. You can still hear the dog’s incessant barking as you make your way down the hall and that’s when the tears you were holding finally fall down.

‘‘Taehyung’s a nice guy, Y/N. He forgave you and you just left?’’ Minji asks, disbelief in her tone. ‘‘I thought you liked him.’’

‘‘I do!’’ You finally speak up. You’re sure of it, you like Taehyung. Your friend gives you a puzzled look because she really can’t understand you right now. ‘‘I like Taehyung, I really do,’’ you mutter, ‘‘but it’s not fair to him.’’

Minji scrunches her face up because there’s only one reason you’re thinking that way. She’s tired of this narrative, it’s old and overdone and it should’ve ended years ago.

She lets out a breathless chuckle, ‘‘You love him, don’t you?’’ Another question that takes you by surprise.

‘‘No, I just─’’

Minji holds her finger up, interrupting you, ‘‘I’m talking about Jungkook.’’

This is the attack. Not the other questions she had asked you regarding her old family friend. Not the unannounced arrival to your apartment on an uneventful Saturday morning where you had chosen to stay in bed instead of facing the peaceful yoga instructor. Not the glaring looks she had been giving you for the last minutes.

And if you weren’t ready for any of those, this one definitely takes the prize.

‘‘I-I of course I love him,’’ you mumble, ‘‘he’s my friend.’’

Minji smirks as her eyebrows raise, ‘‘No, I’m asking if you’re in love him.’’

You’re sure that the feelings that you’ve had for Jungkook have always been platonic. You do love him because he’s your friend and you’re supposed to love your friends. But you know that the love that you have for him is very different from the one you have for anyone else. It might be the history between you two. You’ve been with him through it all, cheering from the sidelines as he accomplishes one milestone after the other.

‘‘Be honest with me,’’ Minji demands, ‘‘are you in love with Jungkook?’’ she asks once again.

Your eyes well up and your bottom lip is trembling as you look back at your intimidating best friend because your silence is deafening and you’re expecting her to throw the last blow. You think you deserve it. Minji has so much she wants to say, but you look so dejected and she figures that you might’ve just realized it.

‘‘Hey, it’s okay.’’ She comes up to you quickly, crouching down as she looks up at the tears rolling down your reddened cheeks. ‘‘Y/N, it’s okay.’’

You’ve been trying to tell yourself the same thing the past few days.

It’s okay that you kissed your best friend. It’s okay that you’ve slowly and silently started harbouring feelings for him. It’s okay that you just realized you’ve been in love with him for a while now. It’s okay that you’ve been resenting the fact that he didn’t choose you all those years ago. It’s okay that you take care of and love his daughter like she’s yours.

But...

‘‘No, it’s not.’’ You cry, ‘‘I can’t do that, Minji, he’s not mine to have.’’

Your mind quickly brings you back to the harsh reality, which is that Jungkook will never be yours. He probably only kissed you because he was looking for something that was capable of exciting him again after realizing how bored of his marriage he is. He doesn’t love you like that, he’ll never love you like that.

Minji can’t disagree with what you just said, but she also feels like right now is not the time to make you feel even worse when it’s obvious you’re already there.

‘‘I blocked his number, anyway.’’ You mumble out, wiping away your tears.

Your friend’s eyes widened at the revelation, ‘‘What?’’.

‘‘I freaked out after I talked to Taehyung because I felt so guilty and you know how I don’t know how to deal with shit ever, so I just─’’ You stop yourself from rambling and sigh as you feel Minji’s hand squeezing your knee as a sign of comfort, ‘‘I can’t see him again without thinking about it. I can’t take care of Sunhi knowing he’s going home to sleep with Jiwoo. I just can’t keep pretending anymore.’’

Minji can’t do much after that, you’ve become a sobbing mess and the tears seem unstoppable. She’s never seen you like this and it dawns on her that you’ve held all of this in for way too long.

It’s ironic because she’s always told you that you need space from Jungkook, thinking it’d be good for you to finally realize that you’re not part of his list of priorities anymore and hadn’t been for a long time.

But she hadn’t taken into account what the after effects of not having him in your life anymore would look like.

[12:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hi y/n

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[12:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: hey???

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[12:07 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i wanted to see if you’d like to meet up for lunch one of these days? i feel like we need to talk

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[5:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: does this work now??

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Jungkook groans in annoyance as he finds another one of his texts left undelivered. It feels like life is either against him or doing this for his own good.

Nonetheless, he wants to talk to you because it’s been a few days since he last saw and heard from you. He figures you’re mad, the last words you spoke to him didn’t sound friendly at all and he wonders if maybe leaving without saying goodbye that day was the right thing to do.

The small snores coming from beside him make him realize Sunhi is finally asleep and he can’t help but let out a sigh of disappointment as he watches her curl into a fetal like position, clutching her Dumbo plush toy and slightly drooling into his favorite pillow, making him pout because he knows he won’t be able to pry it away from her when he decides to fall asleep too.

Sunhi being fast asleep is supposed to bring peace to Jungkook’s tiring day, though the silence is extremely uncomfortable and these days he’s come to realize how much he rather have his daughter running around and yelling in excitement than this.

Complete and utter silence.

[7:13 PM] Jeon Jungkook: (1.jpg attached) sunhi misses auntie y/n!! she’s been asking me about you a lot

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[7:15 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss auntie y/n more tho…

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[7:17 PM] Jeon Jungkook: i hope ur alright :)

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‘‘Pumpkin, you can stop smiling already.’’ Jungkook chuckles as he looks up from his phone, noticing his daughter still holding the big smile he had given him when he requested to take a picture of her to send to you. ‘‘I already sent the picture to Auntie Y/N.’’ He informs and she sighs with relief, massaging her cheeks from straining them too hard.

Though his eyebrows furrow, noticing his messages have once again been left undelivered. He makes a mental note to call the phone company soon, because it’s been over a week since he last sent the first messages and those remained in the same state as well.

‘‘Daddy, unpause!’’ Sunhi demands, making him realize that he’s in the middle of showing her his favorite Pixar movie, Cars.

Twenty minutes had passed and for a majority of them Sunhi had only watched attentively and Jungkook looked over at her every other second just to make sure she hadn’t fallen asleep. Warmness spread throughout him as he noticed his daughter looking at the screen with those big doe eyes she had inherited from him.

Once the scene where Sally shows Lightning McQueen around Radiator Springs, Jungkook feels a tug at his sweatshirt and looks down to notice Sunhi’s little hand grabbing at the fabric, her eyes are still glued to the screen.

“Auntie Y/N likes this too?” She asks and Jungkook chuckles because his daughter can’t stop thinking about his friend even when doing anything completely unrelated to you.

Maybe that’s another thing she inherited as well.

[7:03 PM] Jeon Jungkook: so i called my phone company and asked them abt why my messages aren’t being delivered and they said that you must’ve blocked me

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[7:04 PM] Jeon Jungkook: yeah i guess you did

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Jungkook’s mind has gone blank ever since he got off the phone with the cellphone company.

The idea that you might’ve blocked his number had not once crossed his mind during the weeks of undelivered texts and phone calls sent straight to voicemail. It was obvious, but he didn’t think you’d be capable of doing it.

He wanted it to be a network issue or something else that he could put blame on instead of facing the realization that you had shut him out from your life. And that thought hurt, no─stung him.

The worst part is that he knows he deserves it. It was foolish of him to think that you had enjoyed the kiss too. Dumb enough to believe that you might’ve reciprocated the way he felt.

Jungkook doesn’t want to think this is the end, maybe it’s that stupid voice inside his head that always holds on to things that he knows he should let go of. But he can’t just let go of this and move on.

He doesn’t remember what life was like before you and he sure as hell does not want to know what it’ll be like without you.

[1:30 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you so fucking much i’m sorry if i knew that kissing you would’ve fucked everything up htne i woudl’ve never done it y/n i’m sorry

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[1:31 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i really wanted to kiss you but it was selfish of me to do it i didnt think about what you must’ve felt im sos sorry

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[1:32 AM] Jeon Jungkook: sunhi’s been asking me about yoj and i dont even know what to say anymore

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[2:27 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i don’t even care if you dont wanna speak to me anymore i fucked this up for sunhi she loves you so much and you’re her favorite person ever and i ruined it for her just bc i wanted to see if you felt the same way as i do

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[3:50 AM] Jeon Jungkook: i miss you y/n i really do

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“Daddy, lemme go!” Sunhi whines trying to escape from her father’s hands as he finishes applying the sunscreen on her arms, “Daddy!”.

He gives her a stern look and the toddler huffs, sticking her bottom lip out in an act of annoyance. The playground games are waiting for her and she feels like her dad is just coming between them and her.

“Alright,” he pats his big hands on her tiny arms, “you’re good to—“ Jungkook isn’t able to finish his sentence because his daughter’s already running towards one of the slides, “Sunhi, be careful!” He reminds her, but she’s too focused on the rides than on her dad’s warning.

Jungkook sighs and relaxes into the bench.

“She’s precious,” She comments with a small smile as her attention focuses on the little girl having the time of her life going down the slide, “I’m surprised she’s yours.”

Jungkook looks over at the woman beside him and scoffs, but he can’t help but agree. Sunhi is too good and too pure, the best thing he’s ever done in his life.

“Yeah, well, it’s all her.” Jungkook admits, eyes focusing back on Sunhi, “She’s really great.”

There’s an uncomfortable silence between them and Jungkook has to clear his throat to gain her attention.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t meet up at a café,” Jungkook apologizes and nods over at his daughter, “she’s been a little misbehaved lately, you said you wanted to talk to me and I figured that if I took Sunhi to a place like that she’d just—“

She interrupts his rambling, “Hey, it’s okay. I have no problem, really.” She assures him and he nods slightly, “I haven’t been in a place like this in a long time.”

Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and glances over at the woman who’s looking at him with an expression he can’t quite pinpoint. It makes him so nervous that he quickly shifts his gaze to the ground.

“This is so weird.” He admits with an awkward chuckle and she raises her eyebrow, “I mean—you hate me, Minji, so I don’t know what you want to talk about.”

“I don’t hate you!” Minji laughs and Jungkook finally looks at her and she falters, “Seriously! I only dislike you and that’s saying a lot.”

He supposes that’s a good thing, considering how aggressive Minji used to be towards him back in college. Always letting him know how much she despised his guts, how he didn’t deserve to have you as his friend and even once threw a drink at his face during a party; though you swore to him she was drunk and that she didn’t mean it.

Jungkook hadn’t seen her much since, only a few times if it was your birthday and they managed to cross paths, because the girl made sure she was never in the same room as him. The times it happened, he felt like she was throwing daggers at him through her eyes.

“It always bothered me how putty in your hands she was for you,” Minji begins, crossing her arms over her chest as she settles back into the bench, “and how oblivious you were about it.”

Jungkook looks back at her and there’s a small smile on her face, most likely looking over at his daughter.

“How when we got together for study sessions, she’d be tired because she was taking care of you the night before at one of those stupid frat parties you loved dragging her to.” Minji recalls and Jungkook feels like his mouth has gone dry from the memory.

She crosses one of her legs over the other, “Or that whole Jiwoo ordeal, how you had practically put Y/N aside once you managed to date the ‘campus hottie’.” She says with air quotes and Jungkook sighs, remembering the beginning of it all.

He knows that he can’t turn back time and change it all. Even if he could, he knows he wouldn’t. If there was no Jiwoo, there’d be no Sunhi.

An excited yell startles him as he looks over at his daughter, swinging up and down. “Look, daddy! I'm flying!” She calls and he smiles at her.

“Jesus, that’s fucking precious.” Minji mumbles, but he hears her nonetheless and nods in agreement. “Anyway, I’m not going to act like a saint here and pretend I was vouching for you, because I never did.”

Jungkook knows. Back then he didn’t understand why Minji was so adamant about trash talking him to you, considering how he and her barely knew each other. Actually, whatever knowledge they had of the other was through of you.

But Jungkook’s done a lot of self reflecting for the past month and a half and he’s realized why Minji disliked him so much. Or, dislikes. Either way, it’s valid.

“I just wanted her to snap out of it,” she confesses, “and realize that there is a life beyond you. That there’s more than being your best friend and your daughter’s babysitter. That she’s capable of moving on and putting you aside, because if you did that to her then why shouldn’t she?”

Jungkook hadn’t thought about any of that at all. He had realized he had been a shitty friend, but the idea of just how much definitely hadn’t settled on him. He wishes you knew how much he’s cared about you, but that there were too many overlapping lines for him to ever express it.

“I thought that after setting her up with Taehyung she had finally realized it,” she continues “but you know how she is, she rarely lets up and I knew she wasn’t going to let you go that easily.”

Jungkook draws in a long breath, rubbing his now clammy hands in his jeans as he looks back towards Minji.

“I mean, she couldn’t let her go that easily.” She jerks her head towards Sunhi, still sitting on the swings, though she’s slowed down now. “She loves that little girl so damn much.”

Jungkook’s sure of this. He recognizes the immense love you have for Sunhi, how sincere and unconditional it is. It’s the way a mother loves her child, though he never expected it to come from you instead. He’s not surprised though, because it’s the same love you gave to him. But it’s louder, there are no boundaries that you needed to respect to show Sunhi just how much you loved her, unlike with him.

It dawns on him that cutting him off must’ve been hard. You probably wanted to do it for way longer and only stayed because of Sunhi and Jungkook doesn’t want to think about the dilemma you must’ve went through to finally do it this time around.

He runs his hands through his hair, letting out a shaky breath, remembering that Sunhi doesn’t have you anymore. That’s the reason as to why she’s been so misbehaved lately, crying way too often, throwing tantrums over the smallest of things. Jungkook could blame it on the fact that she’s soon turning four and maybe it’s something that comes with age, it might just be a coincidence that she’s acting this way during a time you’re no longer present in her life.

This is the thing Sunhi might not be able to forgive him for.

“Minji,” he finally speaks up and the woman beside him focuses his gaze back on him, “I miss her so much.” He mumbles, not trusting himself to speak up because he might choke back a sob.

“Only now?”

“No!” He says this a little too harshly and Minji jumps slightly at the tone in his voice, “I’ve always missed her and I’m fucking idiot for realizing too late.”

She hums and Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with rapid breaths, “She’s my first thought when I wake up and when I finally manage to go to sleep. Sunhi constantly reminds me about her, asking me where she is and when can she see her and I have to force myself to lie.”

Jungkook doesn’t realize Minji’s hand is now awkwardly placed on his back, hesitantly tapping as if to give him some comfort. It’s weird to see him like this, she had convinced herself that the guy didn’t have any feelings when it came to you.

“She blocked my number, I can’t call her and all my texts have been left undelivered. I’ve driven by her apartment building too many times with the plan to go up and talk to her, but I always back out because I’m an idiot and I know she’ll hate me if I do that and I—“

“Jungkook.”

“I just want to know if she still cares, I don’t mind if she doesn’t feel the same way. But I want to know that Y/N still cares about Sunhi and me. Do you know? Does she? Could you please—“

Jungkook’s ramble is interrupted by the crying sounds of Sunhi, who’s now on the ground as she sobs and he quickly stands up to go straight towards her. He blinks away the tears that had formed in his eyes because there’s only room for one crying baby here.

“Pumpkin, what happened?” He asks in a soft voice, crouching down at her level and she’s pouting as she points at her bloody knee. “Did you fall down?” She nods and he sighs, picking her up as he takes her back to the bench where Minji waits with expectancy to check on the little girl.

Jungkook places Sunhi beside her and looks through his daughter’s bag for the emergency kit he carried around. He cleans the blood delicately with a gauze and alcohol, making the little girl wince and yelp out an ‘ouch!’ as she holds tightly to Minji’s thigh.

“It’s okay, Pumpkin.” He reassures her with a smile, making his daughter nod because she trusts her dad, “It was an accident and accidents are part of growing up, right?” She nods again and Minji figures this isn’t a first for her.

Once the blood has been cleaned, Jungkook places a cute rainbow patterned bandaid on the wound in her knee.

“There we go,” he announces and Sunhi lets out the breath she’d been holding, ‘‘all done! Are you good now?”

“Yes,” Sunhi weakly replies, “daddy, I wanna go home.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise, but the look on her face tells him that she’s probably still shaken by the accident and most likely wants to take a nap to forget about it.

He looks over at Minji with an apologetic look and she gives him half a smile, “Go, it’s alright.”

Jungkook nods and takes Sunhi in his arms, which she gladly accepts and settles her head in the crook of his neck. Minji’s ready to leave, figuring there was no point in staying any longer.

“Minji, wait!” He stops her before she goes, making her turn around and offer him a curious look, “Sunhi’s birthday is in a few weeks and,” Jungkook reaches for something inside his daughter’s bag, “she really wants Y/N to be there.” He whispers, taking out a party invitation to hand over to Minji.

She smirks, looking at the personalized invitation for his daughter’s fourth birthday, “Just Sunhi?” She asks and he lets out a breathless laugh.

“Me too.” Jungkook adds and a small smile appears on his face as he says it. “Uh—thank you for talking to me, I know it must’ve been hard.”

Minji swats her hand in the air, “It’s alright, just wanted to make sure how you and the kid were doing. It’s all she talks about anyway.”

A gasp escapes his lips and he holds on to his daughter tighter as she nuzzles her face farther in.

“I’ll give her the card, but—I can’t guarantee if she’ll go.” She warns and he nods, understanding.

Though he does not like the possible outcome, he settles down with the idea that you’ll notice how even though you both haven’t spoken towards each other in almost two months, he’s still thinking about you either way. Every day.

#jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #bts fanfic #bts smut #f: chasing pavements

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sassyhobbits · 4 years ago

Text

everything i wanted (ONS oneshot)

here it is! the promised celebratory One Night Standards oneshot! I hope you all enjoy this. I know I had a fun time writing it! thank you all for the love and support for this story, also with your patience since i havent been able to get out as much writing as i would like like recently! <3

masterlist

~~~

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius had never known that joy could come in the form of a person until she welcomed her daughter into the world.

Eliora was a new bright light in both Aelin and Rowan’s life, who brought them new levels of happiness with each passing day. Aelin couldn’t have been more blessed with her daughter. Eliora was a jubilant child, with wide, curious eyes that matched her mother’s and a sweet, gummy smile she flashed from time to time that made both of her parents positively melt.

Most importantly, Eliora was healthy. Although Aelin’s pregnancy had been rather easy, the birth was less so. It was something Aelin had prepared herself for, knowing her own mother had a difficult time giving birth as well. So, when Eliora was born perfectly healthy and Aelin healed from the tumultuous birthing process, both she and Rowan knew that some of the gods had been looking out for them.

That had been four months ago. Four months of raising their daughter, of getting used to being parents, no matter how exhausting it could be. Aelin wouldn’t change it for the world.

Aelin smiled down at her daughter as she wiggled on the bed below her, sticking a tiny fist into her mouth. She was getting her changed into a pale-blue dress that Lysandra had found and insisted it would look wonderful on Eliora. Aelin wasn’t even surprised that her friend had taken to styling her baby as well as the princess.

“Don’t you look so beautiful?” Aelin cooed, pinching Eliora’s little feet, making her flash a wide, toothless smile. Aelin laughed before grabbing a bow that matched her daughter’s dress, slipping in over her silvery-blonde hair that was getting thicker by the day. She looked positively adorable, perfect for the day.

The day of Lorcan and Elide’s wedding.

Aelin was so incredibly happy for Elide, that she had found love. Although Aelin and Lorcan had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, once Aelin realized how much he truly cared for Elide, things had gotten easier between them.

And now they would be married.

Aelin had already prepared herself for the day, wearing a silky, pale-pink midi-dress that Lysandra had sent her way and a pair of sensible, strappy heels. She didn’t bother to do much with her hair, knowing the Eliora often managed to grab handfuls of it whenever it was in reach. Any efforts would have been quickly undone.

“Are you two nearly ready?” Rowan called from the conjoining sitting room, a good-natured sort of exasperation in his tone.

“Having a hot wife takes time, Rowan,” Aelin hollered back. “I wouldn’t be complaining if I was you.”

Although she couldn’t see him, Aelin could picture him scoffing out a tiny laugh and shaking his head. He wouldn’t want to be amused, but he would be anyway.

She heard footfalls coming her way, and soon enough Rowan walked through the threshold. Instantly, a bright smile lit his face, as it always did when he saw the two of them together.

“You look beautiful, Fireheart,” he said, coming to her side and pressing a quick kiss to her temple, a broad hand resting on the dip of her waist. He looked down at Eliora, and his face softened even further. “You both look beautiful.”

“I can’t get over how perfect she is,” Aelin commented, squeezing her daughter’s chubby thighs. “Every day, it just blows me away.”

“Me too.”

They stood there for a few moments, gazing down at their daughter as she looked wide-eyed up at the two of them. Aelin felt as though she could watch her for hours. But, she didn’t have the time for that today.

“I suppose we should get going,” Rowan sighed. “I think it would be bad form if we were late.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Rowan leaned down and scooped Eliora into his arms. Aelin always loved the sight of her massive husband holding their tiny daughter. The first time he had held her, she had promptly broken into tears. Even now, seeing her family, always had her on the verge of crying once again.

But, she controlled herself. She didn’t want to ruin her makeup before the wedding.

The ceremony was being held at the palace out in the gardens. It was a perfect day for an outdoor wedding. The mid-spring air was warm and pleasant, the sky a brilliant blue with a few fat clouds floating across lethargically. The air smelled heavily of the sweet flowers blooming from every corner of the palace’s expansive gardens.

The wedding wasn’t a huge affair, kept mostly to friends and family. There were a few rows of white seats lined up before the altar that was situated beneath an arc of white roses. Some of the seats were already filled up. Aelin said hello to Elide’s parents. Her mother, Marion, apparently hadn’t been able to stop crying all day. Elide’s father, Cal, had been doing his best to console her throughout the morning, though Aelin could tell he was getting a little misty-eyed as well.

She and Rowan went towards their seats near the front, finding some of their companions already there. Lysandra’s face lit up in a comically large grin once she laid eyes on Eliora in Rowan’s arms, immediately standing and reaching out to take her. Lysandra’s own baby bump was just beginning to show, nothing more than a tiny swell under her green dress. Lysandra and Aedion had taken to commandeering Eliora from time to time, saying they wanted to give Rowan and Aelin some alone time. Aelin knew her cousin and his wife honestly just wanted some extra practice with babies before their own came.

“How are you, sweet girl?” Lysandra cooed, taking Eliora from Rowan and bouncing her on her hip. “Don’t you look so beautiful in the dress Auntie Lys got you?”

“She is the cutest baby in the world, isn’t she?” Aelin agreed, leaning into Rowan’s side.

“For now, at least.” Aedion shrugged before kissing the top of Eliora’s silver head and placing a hand on Lysandra’s stomach. “At least until my kid gets her.”

Aelin gaped at her cousin. “Shut your traitorous mouth!”

Fenrys then arrived, clapping Rowan’s shoulder in greeting. He looked as if he were about to strike up a conversation before he laid eyes on Eliora being bounced in Lysandra’s arms. His attention was then instantly diverted. Aelin’s daughter was always quite popular when she was in a crowd.

Rowan’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, tucking her into his side. Aelin’s heart was full as she watched her friends and her daughters, took in their laughs and their smiles. What a wonderful family she had amassed in these years.

“What are you thinking about, Fireheart?” Rowan murmured.

“Just… how lucky we are to have all of this. How much I love them all… and love you.”

He smiled before leaning down and pressing a long, lingering kiss to her lips, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I love you too.”

Aelin would have liked to linger in the moment a bit longer, but they were interrupted by Fenrys’ obnoxiously loud laughter. He had managed to steal Eliora from Lysandra and slip his sunglasses on to her tiny face.

“Check out how cool she looks!” Fenrys announced with a bright laugh.

“Oh, no,” Aelin muttered, shaking her head. She quickly strode towards Fenrys, taking the sunglasses off of Eliora’s head and shoving them back over the lord’s eyes. “Get those tacky things off my daughter’s perfect face!” The princess took Eliora back firmly into her arms, the toddler releasing a stream of nonsense baby-babble, to which Aelin nodded seriously. “You’re right, sweet girl. Those frames are so last season.”

Fenrys gawked in offence, head swiveling towards those around them. “They are not last season! Rowan, tell her they’re not last season!”

Rowan didn’t even bother to respond, looking towards his friend dryly. Once Fenrys realized he wouldn’t be getting any support from the prince, he looked towards Lysandra and Aedion for backup. But, Lysandra could only shrug apologetically.

“Sorry, Fen. They are last season.”

Fenrys continued to sputter in protest while everyone else began to drift to their seats, the beginning of the ceremony nearing.

Aelin took a seat between Rowan and Lysandra, holding Eliora, who was taking in the sights around her, on her lap. The band settled into their position, taking their instruments from their cases. Aelin was more than excited to see Elide. She and Lysandra had helped her pick out her gown, but the effect of seeing her now, with her hair and make-up and veil, was sure to make Aelin cry.

“I can’t believe they’re getting married,” Aelin remarked.

Lysandra snorted softly. “I can’t believe Lorcan is taking Elide’s last name.”

“Hm… Lord Lorcan Lochan. It had a nice ring to it, right?”

They giggled amongst themselves, but their laughter faded once a towering figure appeared on the altar, followed by a heavily robed priestess. Aelin had to admit that Lorcan Salvaterre cleaned up well. His tux was cut to him perfectly, long, black hair shining as it fell down his back. The most striking difference was the lack of the scowl on his face.

“Did I look this nervous on our wedding day?” Rowan murmured into Aelin’s ear.

“Which one?” she asked absentmindedly, straightening the bow on Eliora’s head. “Our first one, worse. I could have sworn you were about to piss yourself.”

“And whose fault was that?”

“Your meddling cousins that didn’t give me time to respond after you decided to confess your love out of the blue on the night before the wedding.”

“Whatever you say, love.”

Eventually, Eliora appeared to grow tired of the view from Aelin’s lap, reaching out towards Rowan. Aelin handed her daughter to Rowan, who was very content to be held up against his chest. She was a true daddy’s girl and had Rowan wrapped around her little finger.

A few more minutes passed before a hush fell over the crowd and the musicians began to play. It was a serene, lilting song, and old Terrasenian lullaby. Aelin’s mother had sung it to her in her youth and now she sang it to her own daughter.

The crowd rose to their feet, looking down the aisle. Aelin already had a too-wide grin on her face, throat clogged up with tears she was trying to keep at bay. Rowan, ever the observant one, noticed and shifted Eliora into his left arm, freeing his other hand to hold Aelin’s tightly. She dared a glance at the altar, finding a surprising amount of emotion displayed on Lorcan’s face. He looked so, so happy, and so very in love. Aelin couldn’t imagine a better person for Elide. She knew Lorcan would love her until his last breath, would use every day in his life to make sure that Elide was happy and content.

Aelin looked back down the aisle just in time to catch the first glimpse of Elide.

She was a breathtaking bride. Elide wore a stunning gown with flowing, gossamer skirts and a bodice covered in delicate, lace flowers. The sleeves were long and gauzy, drooping from her pale shoulders and swaying in the spring breeze. Her hair was twisted up in an elegant coronet, white flowers tangled within her dark locks. Her veil drifted behind her, trailing her by a few feet. The tears sprung from Aelin’s eyes not long after that.

Elide's dark eyes, gleaming with unshed tears, were pinned on Lorcan. Aelin knew the grin she wore was solely for the man waiting for her at the altar.

Elide stepped closer to where Rowan and Aelin stood. The bride took her attention off her future husband for one moment to look towards her princess. Aelin only beamed through her tears, mouthing I love you.

Elide mouthed it back before her gaze caught on Eliora is Rowan’s arms, sending the baby a wide smile. Eliora took a break from sticking her tiny fist in her mouth to send a little smile of her own back.

Elide looked back down the aisle, back towards Lorcan and her future, and she did not falter.

The crowd all lowered themselves into their seats as Elide came to a stop before Lorcan.

Aelin rested her head against Rowan’s shoulder as the priestess began to speak, uttering ancient words that had been tying people together in Terrasen for centuries. She simply couldn’t get over how happy, how deeply in love, Lorcan and Elide were. Aelin was fairly certain the two were barely listening to the priestess, too absorbed in one another to be bothered with the rest of the world at the moment.

The time came for them to read their vows. They reached out, taking one another’s hands firmly. Elide went first. Even from where Aelin sat, she could see her friend swallow hard, no doubt trying to stop herself from crying.

“Lorcan,” Elide began, voice a bit wobbly with emotion. “I’ve never known how happy I could be until I met you. Everyday, you manage to show me new levels of bliss. Marrying you is a blessing I once hadn’t even known I needed. Now, I know I wouldn’t give you up, what we have, for the world. I love you with everything I am, Lorcan Salvaterre.”

Aelin swiped at the tears dribbling down her cheeks, Rowan wrapping his arm over her shoulder and tugging her closer to his body.

It seemed Lorcan needed a few moments to compose himself after Elide’s speech, chin tucked to his chest. He sucked down one more deep breath before facing the woman before him once more, dark brown eyes glimmering.

“Elide Lochan, you’re the love of my life,” he began. Aelin could tell how hard he was working to control his voice. “I truly don’t know what I did to deserve you. You are the brightest light in my life, the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me. I thank whatever god took pity on my miserable ass and let me walk into your life. I promise to do everything in my power to make you the happiest woman on the planet, to love and cherish you for the rest of my life. You… gods, I love you so much Elide.”

Aelin’s heart melted as she listened to Lorcan’s vows, eyes flickering up to Rowan. Even her normally stoic husband had misty eyes.

The priestess looked back and forth from Elide to Lorcan, a serene smile on her wrinkled face. She finished the ceremony, speaking the same words that had bound Rowan and Aelin three years ago.

“I’m honored to announce,” the priestess said grandly, “that under the eyes of the gods and of Terrasen, this man and woman are now wed!”

With that, Lorcan took Elide’s face into his hands and kissed her soundly. The cheers and applause erupted from the crowd, everyone rising to their feet once more for the newly-weds. Lorcan seemed reluctant to stop kissing his new wife, but he eventually pulled back and they faced their audience.

Aelin couldn’t be more excited to see where life would take the both of them.

…

The celebration following was still held in the gardens, no one wanting to put such a beautiful day to waste. They ate and drank and were happy, celebrating all the love that was in everyones’ lives.

As the day wore on, some people left, leaving only the closest of Aelin’s friends and family behind. They were scattered around a few tables, finishing off drinks and snacks as the sun began to set below the horizon.

Aelin was enjoying some girl time, finally finding some time alone with Elide and Lysandra. The boys were all sitting around together, drinking beers and entertaining Eliora.

Lysandra leaned back in her seat, absent-mindedly stroking the swell of her stomach. “I can’t believe we’re all married now.”

“All of us except for Fenrys,” Elide pointed out.

Aelin shrugged. “He’ll be hitched soon enough. He and Ress have been dating for like, four months now. They really like each other.” It was true. Everyone could tell they were already ridiculously in love with one another. Aelin was ecstatic to see two of her friends so happy with one another. They were so cute it was sickening. “I can’t believe we’re going to have another baby around here soon!”

Lysandra hummed and looked fondly at the little life growing inside of her. “It’s going to be hectic, but I’m so excited. I don’t know what all these boys are going to do with two babies to spoil.”

As one, all three of them looked towards where the boys were. Eliora has been passed from Aedion to Lorcan. He held the babe at his eye level, his normally grumpiness nowhere in sight, even as Eliora dragged her sticky hands down his face. He could only smile.

“Oh, gods,” Elide squeaked, face quickly screwing up as she began to cry.

“Elide, honey, what is it?” Lysandra asked, placing a hand on Elide’s thigh. “I know it’s so cute to see the boys with babies, and I certainly cried the first time Aedion held Eliora, but you’ve seen her and Lorcan together plenty of times and have never cried.”

“Oh, it’s just these damned hormones,” Elide sighed.

Aelin blinked, looking at her friend quizzically. She slowly raised a brow. “Hormones?”

Elide’s eyes flickered back and forth between Aelin and Lysandra, nibbling at her bottom lip for a few moments before she conceded. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re what?!”

“Sh!” Elide hissed, casting a quick glance towards the boys, but none of them had noted the outburst. “I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“How long have you known?”

Elide smiled sheepishly. “Two days.”

“Oh, Ellie, you couldn’t have waited until today to find out?” Aelin asked melodramatically. “Now this was a shotgun wedding!”

The girls burst out in laughter, Elide’s wiping away the tears that had escaped from her eyes. She looked towards Lorcan once more.

“I just don’t know how to tell him!”

“There is no how,” Lysandra said. “Just tell him! Gods, go right now!”

“Really?”

“Yes!” cried Aelin and Lysandra in unison, making Elide laugh some more.

Elide sucked down a deep breath, but on a brave face, and pushed to her feet, eyes locked on her new husband. She gave a firm nod. “Alright. I’m going to tell him.”

Aelin and Lysandra clapped and cheered quietly as Elide strode purposefully over to Lorcan. She placed a soft hand on her husband's arm, muttering something to him that Aelin couldn’t hear from where she was sitting. Lorcan nodded, handing Eliora back over to Rowan, whose head immediately whipped towards Aelin as if to say, What did you two do?

Aelin only held her hands up in defense. Not my fault.

Aelin and Lysandra waited until Elide and led Lorcan a respectful distance away before making their way over to their husbands. They looked towards them in question.

“What’s happening?” Aedion asked.

“Elide’s telling Lorcan she's pregnant.”

“Elide’s pregnant?!” Fenrys gasped. “Shotgun wedding!”

"That's what I said!"

"Shh! You're being too loud!"

They quieted down, watching as Elide and Lorcan conversed. They saw Elide take Lorcan’s hand, giving it a tight squeeze before she rested it over the bodice of her gown, on her stomach. Lorcan blinked once, and Aelin saw him mouth, Pregnant? To which Elide nodded.

Lorcan beamed, sweeping Elide up in his arms and twirling her around. Everyone heard her bright laughter and she threw her arms over Lorcan’s shoulders and kissed him deeply.

Aelin joined with their other friends in clapping and cheering for the couple once again. Lorcan eventually put Elide back down on her feet, the pair looking towards the crowd with too-wide grins on their faces. Instantly, some of them headed over towards where the newlyweds stood to congratulate them properly, but Aelin hung back with Rowan.

“Three babies in the palace at once…” Rowan breathed heavily. “We’ll certainly never be bored.”

“Certainly not,” Aelin agreed, looking at Eliora in her husband’s arms, who released a mighty yawn. It seemed the day had thoroughly worn her out. Aelin stood on her toes, pressing a kiss to Rowan’s lips before doing the same to Eliora’s forehead. Her daughter looked to her with wide, sleepy eyes. “You're going to have so many new friends soon!”

Aelin looked over to her companions, watching as they all laughed and smiled and embraced. There was a warm fondness in her heart as she took in the sight.

Aelin took Eliora into her own arms, holding her against her chest. She kissed her daughter’s cheek again, simply because she could, before smiling. “You’re going to have such a wonderful family, too.”

#ONE NIGHT STANDARDS #my writing #rowaelin #elorcan #tog

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wallgirl · 3 years ago

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The Little Nereid Part 3

3600 words, part three of a six seven part fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

The next morning, Dynamene rose reluctantly with a sigh. She was dreading the day, although she knew that Hera’s visit would be largely uneventful, at least as far as the Nereids were concerned. The weight in her chest that had dissolved along with her corporeal form in the ocean the night before had seemingly returned whilst she slept. She rubbed below her collarbone, trying to massage the feeling away. Actaea was right; there was nothing to worry about. The visit would go the same as the several dozen that had preceded it. Hera would arrive, trade smarting words with Poseidon, then leave a few hours later in a huff. No skin off their backs.

She finished fastening her peplos with the pins gifted to her by Actaea before heading to the door. As she grasped the doorknob, she became aware of a strangely light feeling on her wrist. Looking down, Dynamene realized that she’d forgotten to put on the bracelet Poseidon had given her. She hesitantly looked back at her jewelry stand where the bracelet sat on top in a place of honor. Should she wear it? Maybe it wasn’t appropriate to wear such an exquisite accessory every day.

But Dynamene was unable to resist the bracelet’s gleam, and she hurried back to slip it on with careful fingers before dashing back out the door.

Most of her sisters were already present at the dining hall, yawning and chattering over their breakfast of fruit and cakes. “Dynamene!” Eione called, waving a bunch of grapes. “We were wondering where you were! Ianeira was just about to have me fetch you. Come sit, I saved you some grapes!”

Dynamene flitted over and drew up a chair, allowing her sister to pile her plate for her. “And this,” Eione finished, plopping a pomegranate on top. “Last one. There you are; eat up.”

Dynamene poked at the pomegranate with a sigh. Of course, it would be a pomegranate, one of Lady Hera’s symbols. She had just begun to pull it apart when Ianeira stood up at the head of the table.

“Hera is due to arrive in an hour. We will greet her per usual at the deck and escort her to Lord Poseidon’s quarters. After that, they are to have complete privacy. Poseidon will send for us when Lady Hera is ready to be escorted back to her chariot.”

“We never end up escorting her, anyhow,” Eione commented after a hearty gulp of wine. “She just storms out without warning.”

“Ideally, we will escort her,” Ianeira amended plainly. “Until then, as we completed the cleaning last night, we have some time to ourselves. We will meet on the deck to await Hera’s arrival in forty-five minutes.”

The rest of the sisters murmured in acknowledgment before turning back to their plates. Dynamene was eyeing the pomegranate’s innards with distaste when a familiar touch fell upon her shoulder. “Are you eating that with your mouth or your eyes, Dyna?” Actaea teased her.

“Good morning, Actaea. It’s just that I could’ve done without another reminder of Hera,” Dynamene murmured.

Eione’s sharp ears caught it anyways. “Sorry, Dynamene,” she cuffed her good-naturedly on the arm. “I didn’t know you were dreading her visit.”

“That’s what I came to ask you about, actually, Dynamene,” Actaea ventured. “Are you feeling better this morning? I know you were… worried about today last night.”

“I am,” Dynamene forced an optimistic smile. “I guess I’ve just been too tense recently. I know Hera’s visit will go over just fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Actaea said, hugging her. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

“Yes,” Dynamene nodded. Actaea took her leave, and she allowed her shoulders to fall once more.

“Dynamene, can I talk to you for a moment?” Ianeira called from further down the table.

“Of course,” Dynamene rose, glad to leave the pomegranate where it lay on her plate. “What is it?”

“Now that you’re of age, you’ll be expected to be in the rest of the group when we escort Lady Hera,” Ianeira explained. “It’s nothing difficult, as you’ll recall. We just line up, greet her, and walk her to Poseidon’s sitting room. As the eldest sister, I’ll be doing the talking.”

Dynamene stared in shock. She had forgotten that she’d gotten out of seeing Hera, at least close-up, in the past due to her young age. But Ianeira was right. Now that she was an adult in society’s eyes, she would be expected to join her older sisters in greeting Hera as a proper lady. “I see,” she said, unable to contain her reluctance.

“It’ll be just fine,” Ianeira soothed her. “We’ll all be right there with you. It’ll only take a few minutes, and chances are Lady Hera won’t speak to anyone besides me. You’ll be alright.”

Dynamene took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. That was right; she would be there among the rest of her sisters. Hera wouldn’t even interact with her. Surely she could handle something this simple.

And yet, far too soon, she found herself back on the deck, just as spotless and luminescent as they’d left it the night before, along with her sisters. She had resumed twisting her peplos with nervous hands. They had formed two lines on either side of the luxurious red carpet that had been rolled out to the grand doors, with Ianeira at their head, as the eldest, to greet Hera.

There was the faint sound of rushing wind in the distance, and all fifty sisters immediately positioned themselves, hands clasped and heads facing forward. A speck appeared in the distance, rapidly growing larger as it approached the palace at break-neck speed. It was quickly revealed to be a large golden chariot with intricate scenes of forests and flora carved into it. Pulling the chariot with all their might was four peacocks, each many times bigger than the peacocks typically found in the mortal world. They gave a loud cry to signal the arrival of their mistress, leading the chariot to a smooth and graceful descent towards the deck.

Hera herself stood holding the reins firmly in one hand, lifting her free arm to signal the peacocks to further slowdown. Her long chestnut hair streamed loosely from a braided updo on her head, and her peplos decorated with gold and lavender embroidery billowed in the wind. The sisters immediately dropped into deep curtsies as the chariot slid to rapid halt before them.

“Hail, Nereids,” Hera addressed them. She tied the reins to the chariot before dismounting with a graceful jump. Dynamene always forgot just how tall and strong Hera was between visits. The goddess stood at a rather imposing six feet, and her arms were well-toned. The features of her face were proud with full lips and defined cheekbones, every inch the image of a strong Greek matriarch.

“Greetings, Lady Hera,” Ianeira spoke, head bowed. “We are glad to receive you on this beautiful day.”

“Yes, it was fine weather for flying,” Hera replied, taking in the impressive sight of all fifty Nereid sisters lined up perfectly. “Zeus has been in a fine mood lately. We shouldn’t see a storm for quite a while, I say.”

“Lord Poseidon awaits in his quarters, my lady. Shall we?”

“Yes. My brother is not known for his patience, is he? Let us go.” Hera followed Ianeira down the carpet that led the way into the palace, and the rest of the Nereids proceeded after in their two lines.

“Hm. Not much has changed since my last visit, I see,” Hera commented, taking in the palace’s interior. “Same marble, same furniture.”

“I daresay Lord Poseidon’s tastes are very stalwart. We do admire his practical taste,” Ianeira replied dutifully.

“There comes a point, in matters such as these, when practicality becomes monotony,” Hera scoffed. “Perhaps I could convince him to add a dash of color. Surely he wouldn’t find cerulean an offensive hue.”

They had almost completed their ascent to the highest tower, where Poseidon’s quarters were located, when Hera came to a halt. “One moment,” she interjected, turning around to face the Nereids.

“Yes, my lady?” Ianeira asked.

“Hm,” Hera took them in with her sharp eyes. “The lines are uneven this time. I nearly missed it. You, and then forty-nine in the two lines… Who is the new maiden that makes the numbers uneven?”

Dynamene’s heart froze, as she immediately knew Hera was talking about her. Oh, why did Hera have to take notice of her today?

“Our youngest sister, Dynamene, has joined our ranks at last. She had her coming-of-age birthday just yesterday, in fact.”

“Dynamene?” Hera replied, as if trying to remember the name.

Dynamene knew she was expected to come forward so Hera could pick her out of the rest of the Nereids, and she did so with a reluctant step. “I am here, my lady.”

“Dynamene.” Hera scrutinized her briefly. “Well, then…” Hera rose one mighty arm into the air, and there was a powerful clap reminiscent of thunder. When she lowered her hand again, she held something in it. “Step forward, maiden Dynamene,” she commanded, holding the object out towards her.

Dynamene stepped quickly to her, eyes filled with curiosity. Hera handed her the object she had summoned.

It was a gilded pomegranate, wrapped with a golden ribbon.

“In celebration of your coming-of-age,” Hera declared, looking down at Dynamene. “Consider this my blessing; that whatever union you should desire, and whatever union you should find yourself in, will be one of immense joy. Embrace your femininity, little Nereid; be true and loyal, and your union will be fruitful.”

Dynamene blushed, holding the pomegranate tight. “I… I will, Lady Hera. I have only my deepest thanks to offer. I will treasure your blessing always.” She bowed deeply.

“Be humble always, young Dynamene,” Hera finished, dismissing her with a nod. “Now, let us continue. I’m sure my brother grows more impatient by the minute.”

Ianeira continued to lead them on, and it was just a few more hallways until they had reached the bottom of the stairs leading to those majestic mahogany doors.

“You may leave me here, Nereids,” Hera said. “I will take myself the rest of the way.”

“We wish you a happy visit, Lady Hera,” Ianeira bid her. Hera strode up the stairs and pushed through the doors. How Dynamene longed to see what was past them. Surely Lord Poseidon was waiting at the table in the sitting room, head resting against one hand as always, cool eyes gazing into space.

“Dynamene,” a sharp whisper brought her back to her senses. Her sisters were all gazing at her in awe; more precisely, at the pomegranate she held in her hands.

“A blessing from Hera? What luck,” Callianassa sighed. “She may have quite the temper, but I suppose even she has her moments of generosity.”

“How unfair,” Thoe pouted. “Some of us came-of-age before we even came to serve at this palace. Where’s our blessings?”

Dynamene frowned. She did appreciate Hera’s words, but the idea of any union for her seemed unconceivably far away. She rose the pomegranate up to better appreciate its sleek golden surface, so smooth and glossy that she could make out her own reflection. “If only it did me any good,” she whispered back to herself.

A few hours later, Dynamene was weaving on the balcony, doing her best to calm herself with the focus of her work and the warmth of the sunshine. The sound of a rather harsh melody coming from behind made her stop and turn around.

“Sorry if I’m distracting you, Dyna,” Eione sighed, lowering a reed pipe from her mouth. “Callianassa’s been teaching me to play, but I guess I’m not quite there yet.”

“No, it’s alright. I wouldn’t mind some company, actually,” Dynamene grinned as she turned back to her loom.

Eione hopped atop the balcony’s edge, settling in for a good view of the ocean and the rocky mountains that made up the other side of the landscape. “Hera’s been in there talking to Poseidon for a while now, hasn’t she? Their visits almost never reach the three-hour mark.”

“Has it been that long already?” Dynamene asked. Perhaps her anxiety had made the time go by faster rather than slower.

“I suppose they’re actually having a good visit for once,” Eione quipped, cracking a mischievous grin.

As if to contradict her, the distant sound of stone cracking somewhere above rang. The sisters tensed, waiting to see if another part of the palace would collapse this time. After several seconds, Eione sighed and leaned back against the wall again. “Ah, I had to say something,” she sighed, rising her pipe back to her mouth.

But Dynamene’s eyes were still searching the palace above, her expression wrought with concern. “You don’t think they’re going to actually fight, do you?”

“Them, fight? No,” Eione shook her frizzy locks. “Hera’d sooner lay a golden egg in front of all of Olympus than go toe-to-toe with Poseidon. The ocean is right there, after all.” She paused for a moment, seemingly considering the pipe in her hands. “And Poseidon would sooner do the same then come to blows with Hera. It’d require too much effort.” With that, she continued to practice the melody she’d been playing earlier.

“Mm,” Dynamene responded. She still couldn’t bring herself to look away from the highest tower. A sudden, crazy idea sprang to her mind, one that she knew she should barely entertain. But she was anxious once again, and curious on top of it. She looked down at the loom, tentatively weighing her possible choices. She abruptly stood. “You know, I don’t think being at the palace is going to soothe my nerves any until Lady Hera leaves. I’m going to go for a walk along the shoreline.”

“Aye,” Eione nodded assent. “Best thing for calming the nerves. Be safe!”

“Don’t worry about me!” Dynamene called back as she left the balcony. “I’m never one for risky decisions!”

Never, except for, perhaps, what she was going to do next.

Some time later, Dynamene knelt before one of the vents that allowed the seawater they cleaned the floors with to exit the palace. The vents led to a system of large pipes that, although they were meant to only lead water down and away, connected every area of the palace. One of those pipes connected to a vent in Lord Poseidon’s quarters; more specifically, his sitting room. Dynamene removed the grate from the vent and peered cautiously inside. The pipes were still thoroughly wet from the cleaning that had been done the day before. Leaning in, she could hear the sound of water dripping from somewhere below.

She drew in a shaky breath. Was she really about to do this? She couldn’t even imagine the consequences of getting caught. She shuddered at what punishment might await her if she was found out.

But, far more than being scared, she desperately wanted to know what Lord Poseidon and Lady Hera were talking about. Their conversation must be getting heated if something had been broken, as the noise from earlier seemed to indicate.

Knowing was the only thing that stood a chance of easing the anxiety in her head and the weight in her heart.

Making sure that no one was nearby, she quickly stripped and stowed her clothes in a nearby table drawer. This time, she reluctantly left her bracelet too; it would do no good to lose it or get it caught somewhere now.

She stood before the vent and closed her eyes in concentration. Her body began to drip into water, starting with her fingers and toes and slowly moving up her limbs and the trunk of her body. Having completely changed into liquid form, she entered the pipe and scaled the water inside the pipes up towards Poseidon’s rooms. It was pitch dark, and she could only guess at which way to go, flowing from one dead-end to the next. After a few claustrophobic minutes, she reached the last junction and rose upwards towards a block of light. This was surely the right vent; she could hear the familiar powerful cadences of Hera’s voice.

Her sea spirit self was not accustomed to fighting gravity for so long, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until she had exhausted all of her energy. With no other option, she reverted back to her human form, curled up just out of sight from the opening of the vent. She took a moment to catch her breath, cold water dripping down her bare skin, before stilling herself as much as possible and listening in.

“…thousand years and you have selected no one, not even a lover.” Hera’s shadow paced back and forth across the light of the vent. “I have introduced you to countless maidens. Goddesses and princesses alike have shown interest in becoming the lady of your house. And you say nothing.”

As expected, Poseidon was silent. Dynamene crept forward just close enough to see into the room, and brushed her wet bangs away from her eyes. Poseidon remained seated at the table, still as always, while Hera paced and gestured before him. Her chair lay in pieces next to the far wall; its destruction was no doubt the source of the crash heard earlier.

“You live here, with fifty eligible maidens! Sisters from a respected bloodline, and sea nymphs on top! But you choose none of them either. None of them! You live with fifty unmarried young women, and not one has tempted you, Poseidon? Have you wronged Aphrodite, that the concept completely escapes you?!”

“The concept of marriage is well-known to me, by the example set by you and your husband, among others,” Poseidon replied lowly.

Hera either hadn’t noticed the sly insult or chose to ignore it, because she continued on as if he’d never spoken. “Here I was, thinking that perhaps you were waiting for one of the Nereids to come-of-age! But the last of the fifty Nereids has finally become a woman, and you won’t have her either!”

Dynamene stifled a gasp, biting her knuckle. The conversation had turned to include her.

“The Nereids serve me, and in return, I shelter them. It is a transaction, not a relationship.” Poseidon’s cold words slapped Dynamene, and she swallowed back a growing lump in her throat. Dynamene knew Poseidon was close to no one and had nobody that he considered dear to him. But the fact that after a thousand years together he considered his relationship with the Nereids one of pure business stung.

“Don’t act so sly,” Hera shouted back. “It was I who put it in old Proteus’s head that he ought to send his daughters to serve you. Did you think the fact that fifty eligible women came to serve you was a coincidence?”

Dynamene’s eyes darted rapidly back and forth between the two angry gods. Proteus, Old Man of the Sea, was the father of the Nereids, kind and wise. Surely he must have seen through Hera’s suggestion to her ulterior motives.

“My arrangement with Proteus regarding the servitude of his daughters is none of your concern,” Poseidon said with finality. Dynamene couldn’t see his face from where she hid beyond the grate, but she knew him well enough to know what expression he must be wearing. She shuddered, picturing his icy glare.

“Mark my words, brother, this won’t be the last you hear from me on this,” Hera spat, pointing at Poseidon with an accusatory finger. “The other gods will look down on our family, whispering nonsense about the strange, solitary Olympian who won’t spare a single glance at a woman. I won’t stand for it. In one month’s time, the council of the Greek pantheon will be held once again. I will arrange for you to meet with a suitable goddess then. Woe betide you if you fail to show or embarrass me once more.” With that, Hera stormed towards the doors, throwing them open hard enough that they crashed against the walls behind them, and swept out.

There was a heavy silence in the room. Poseidon didn’t move, not one inch, from where he sat in his chair. After several seconds, he rose and approached the destroyed chair. With a sweep of his arm, the chair was fixed and upright. He remained looking down at it for a moment before taking his trident from the rack on the wall and stepping out onto his balcony. A wave of water seemingly appeared from nowhere, enveloping his form. When it had dissolved, he was gone.

Dynamene finally let out a ragged exhale. This one was not of relief, however, but of searing pain. A sharp, warm tingle came to her eyes, and despite all of her best efforts, she began to cry. Her lower lip trembling silently, she withdrew from the grate and melted back into the water, flowing back to the room she had come from.

Why? Why do his words hurt me so much? None of this is unexpected. Of course he would say that. It is Lord Poseidon, after all. So close, and yet so distant. He was always this way. I know this. I’ve known this for a thousand years.

But it hurts. It hurts so much.

Her tears intermingled with the seawater until it was impossible to tell them apart.

---

Author’s notes: Oh, Dynamene, what are you feeling? What are you thinking? And why Poseidon, of all people? Well, it’ll make a lot more sense in the next part as our leads have their first meaningful next interaction. Also teenagers am I right

I love writing Hera, she’s just such a forceful personality. She’s not a bad person, but she does have her own priorities, just like the other Olympians.

Also, the vents in the palace weren’t originally made for draining cleaning water. They were installed to prevent flooding in the palace in case of a storm coming in from the ocean. The Nereids have utilized them in their daily work rather creatively.

#record of ragnarok #poseidon #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon x oc #fanfiction

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smol-and-grumpy · 4 years ago

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Light My Fire - CH17

Pairing: CEO!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: She always thought her boss was an ill-tempered man, but when he presents her with a proposition she can’t quite deny, she gets to know him better. It’s not bad, right? Because all she has to do is being fake married to him for six months, sounds do-able, right? Right.

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW

WC: 4547

Please share your thoughts with me, I’d love to hear your feedback.

Beta’d by @deanwanddamons <3

SERIES MATSTERLIST

BECOME A PATRON ~ BUY ME A COFFEE

Y/N wakes up the next day with Dean already out of bed. There’s a tray of breakfast propped on the coffee table. She didn’t even hear the knock at the door when someone brought it. Sleep was bad. It took them both a long time to fall asleep and then she kept waking up during the night.

She blinks the sleep away and sits up in bed. Looking out, she sees Dean. He’s talking on the phone and has gone outside so as not to wake her up. Still feeling tired, she lets herself fall back into the mattress and buries her face into the pillows before pulling the covers over her head. Maybe, if she’s lucky, she can fall asleep again.

There’s the sound of a sliding door, and she hears Dean walking back in. He probably has noticed her moving, and took it as a sign that she’s awake.

“The others will arrive in an hour, you think you wanna get up?”

Well, there goes her sleep.

She peeks out from under the covers and sees Dean sitting next to her on the bed, “The others?”

Dean scoffs, “Yeah, I’m not happy about it either, but apparently Sam and Ruby are seeing it as an opportunity to have a short vacation with the false pretense that he’s my lawyer and he needs to be here to discuss strategy.” He air quotes the word strategy.

“Ruby?”

“She’s coming because he probably wants to impress her,”

“As if he has to try,” she chuckles, and adds, “Are we picking them up?”

“Nah, Jack’s in good hands. Ruby made sure that Jack was on their flight.” Dean’s hand goes under the covers, grabbing her around her waist and pulling her to the edge where he is, “So, you still have time to take a dip in the sea if you want to? I need to go to the front desk and arrange a room for your brother.”

“Not for Sam and Ruby?”

“I think they can manage on their own,”

Y/N smirks, “Can we stay in bed for a little while longer?”

Dean has to smile at that, “Okay, ten more minutes,”

She scoots over again and he gets in, nuzzles his face into her neck while he drapes his arm over her body.

Ruby hugs her so tight, she has trouble breathing but who she was most excited to see is Jack.

“Hey,” Jack smiles weakly, visibly tired because he had to get up so early to be able to catch a connecting flight to get here.

Y/N hugs her little brother around his waist and rests her head on his chest to hear his heartbeat. He’s not little anymore but he’s still little to her, “I’m sorry about all of this, Jack,”

Jack rubs her back and wraps his arms around her, “Don’t worry about it, and hey, I get to be in Jamaica, not bad, eh?”

They chuckle. It’s a great reunion. If only the circumstances were different.

After the initial greetings, they sit down on their balcony. Dean had someone bring in drinks and snacks. Sam’s still on the phone and Ruby is inside, changing into her bikini.

Jack sits next to her and she can feel that he’s a little restless as he can’t hold still.

Dean notices it too, while he pours water into glasses and raises an eyebrow at Jack, “You okay there, Jack?”

Jack’s blushing, “Yeah,”

He usually never blushes but now he does and she doesn’t know what it is, but she thinks it’s cute.

“Do you wanna take a dip in the sea?” Dean asks and grins.

“Can I?” Jack’s face lights up when he hears that Dean basically just read his mind.

Dean shrugs, “I saw you eyeing that blue water, so yeah, knock yourselves out. We’ll start when you’re done.”

That’s pure Mr. Winchester. She thinks it’s a gift that Dean has because he can read people very well. Maybe that’s the reason why he’s so successful.

“Awesome!” Jack stands up and gets rid of his shirt, he was so excited that he boarded the plane in his swimming trunks, bless his heart, “I’ll be right back!”

“Hey, be careful!” Y/N shouts after him but Jack’s already taking a dive.

Dean sits next to her when Jack’s down below, splashing around in the sea, “I like him,”

“He doesn’t like you,” She grins and moves closer to Dean, hooking both her legs over his lap and he strokes her thighs and leans back into the seat.

“I know that,” He says, and she leans back too, places her head on his shoulder. Dean pecks the crown of her head. It’s become so natural for him so show her little affection. Little does he know that it means way more to her than it does to him, “I’ll get him to like me, you just watch.” With another breath he adds, “You know, you two remind me of me and Sam. Just that Sammy is a bigger pain in my ass.”

After another attempt of gathering everyone together, they finally sit down to talk.

“How did Amara know that we’re here?” Y/N voices her thoughts.

“Uh,” Ruby says, “That might have been my fault. Remember her walking in on Friday?”

Yeah, how could she forget that. She was under the fucking desk blowing her fucking boss.

“Anyway,” Ruby continues, “I had the screen open for your holiday resort and since she had to walk past my desk in order to get to Dean’s office, I’m sure that she saw it.”

“It doesn’t really matter, actually,” Dean says, “She’s here, there’s nothing we can do about it.” He clears his throat before he goes on, “I’ve spoken to Ash and I asked him to find out things about Arthur Ketch. Turns out, he’s not a descendant of English aristocracy but a private investigator. It took Ash the whole night to find that out because there’s not much info on the guy.”

“What?” There are a couple of voices throwing that in.

“Means, that he’s here because she paid him to spy on Y/N and me. Probably get some footage of us not being married so she can expose us.” Dean says in a low voice.

“Would someone please explain what is going on?” Jack throws in. He's right. They still didn’t explain their situation to him.

“We’ll get there, Jack,” Dean says, his voice is softer, “I’ll get back to you, alright? Just have a little patience.”

Jack purses his lips into a thin line and leans back in his chair.

“Do you think they’re still here?” Sam asks, “We didn’t see her when we walked through the resort.”

Dean scoffs, “Sammy, it’s Amara, what do you expect? Of course she’s still here. She’s like the black fucking plague, she won’t go away easily,” he sighs, “All I know is that she’s here and we’re being spied on, so since you are all involved, I want you to get your story straight and don’t let anything slip that would jeopardize this, you understand?”

Everyone nods, except for Jack and Dean notices that, too. He walks over to Jack, places a hand on her brother’s shoulder, “I need to talk to Sam for a bit and after that, I’ll be right with you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Jack snorts, “Sure,”

She can see that Dean is feeling Jack’s rejection, but instead of arguing or explaining more, he gives Jack space. Dean nods his head and walks inside with Sam, leaving them outside.

Y/N and Ruby are floating on swimming mats in the sea below their bungalow while Dean has taken Jack on a deep sea fishing trip to explain it to him. She wanted to go too, but Dean said that it’s something between him and Jack, since he’s the one who put Jack in this situation in the first place.

Jack was quick to agree, because her brother loves fishing. Their dad used to take them finishing a lot while he was still alive. She wonders how Dean knows because Ruby doesn’t know these little details. She’s known Ruby since she started to work for Dean and she’s become her best friend since. Ruby knows a lot about her, knows about her past relationships, but Ruby doesn’t know a lot about her relationship with her brother. Y/N never thought it was relevant to their friendship. All she let Ruby know was that Jack was the most important person in her life.

So the two of them left right after Dean discussed things with Sam and they would be back in the evening. Sam’s somewhere, trying to spot Amara and maybe scare her a little with some lawyer lingo. She doesn’t really know. Fact is, that there’s not a lot that they can do because technically, Amara’s allowed to be here. She wonders why Sam and Ruby came at all, because they aren’t necessarily needed, but as Dean said, Sam saw the opportunity and Ruby’s not going to say no to a couple days of fun in the sun.

“So, how’s things with Sam?” she asks Ruby, because since they arrived all they’ve been talking about is Dean and Y/N’s fake fucking marriage and she can’t listen to that anymore.

Ruby smirks, “It’s good. He took me on a trip to Jamaica.”

Y/N snorts, “Yeah, I can see that. On Dean’s expense, apparently. That cheeky little bastard.”

“I like him, Y/N, he’s the best lover.” Ruby gushes, “I can honestly see us being more than just this, you know? Maybe it’s the beginning of something good?”

“Won’t it be weird when you work for the same company?” It’s a legitimate question.

Although the company’s contract doesn’t have a clause that says that they aren’t allowed to strike up a romantic relationship at the workplace. Still, she can imagine that Dean probably wants to make sure that people stay professional while working. Which is really a little hypocritical of him, given what they’ve already done in his office.

“Well, is it weird for you?” Ruby raises an eyebrow.

Y/N swallows, “We’re not— It’s not—”

Her friend scoffs, “Yeah, sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

“My god, Ruby, it’s really—,” She sighs, “Okay, we get along, alright? But we’re not like, anything, I think? At the end of the day, it’s just business.”

“Who are you trying to fool?” Ruby laughs.

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, for God’s sake, wake up!” Ruby squirts water in her direction, “I think everyone knows but you, and that’s pretty frustrating.”

“Know what?” She squirts water back at her friend to conceal the red flush to her face.

Ruby sighs, “How he behaves around you? He always makes sure that you’re okay. Every fucking day he would come by and ask if you’re alright? It was like that since you started in the office. Have you not noticed?” She opens her mouth to protest but Ruby goes on, “And don’t give me that ‘But he’s asking you too’. What do you expect? He’s standing right there in front of us. He can’t be asking you without asking me too.”

“Ruby, that’s absolute bull,”

Her friend snorts, “I started to work there six months before you came along. He did not stop by and ask me once if I’m okay before you got there, Y/N. I never told you that, but I’m telling you now, it’s not his normal behaviour. He cares, and that’s just that. Take it or leave it. But maybe you’re so traumatized by Kevin, that you don’t really know what’s good if it hits you square in your face.”

“It’s just for show,” She mumbles, not entirely sure of her own words either.

“Why do you think Jack’s so hostile towards Dean, huh?” Ruby scoops sea water and drips it over herself to cool down, “I’ve met Jack several times, and think I know him a little, Y/N.”

“Oh, come on, leave Jack out of this,”

Ruby raises an eyebrow, “I won’t. Because you know why? Jack’s overprotective of you. He’s your little brother, he thinks that he has to look out for you. The only way he is like he is with Dean, is because he sees through him. Jack knows and that’s why he’s going to give Dean a hard time because he doesn’t want Dean to break your heart.”

Y/N sighs, “Ruby, it’s really just for show,”

“If you say so,” Ruby shrugs and chuckles to herself.

Ugh, she hates that. Is she really the only one who doesn’t know shit around here?

They’re waiting for Dean and Jack at the restaurant. Dean had called to say that they’ll be in a little later and that they should go ahead and he and Jack would catch up.

So far, there’s no sight of Amara yet. Sam hadn’t found her either. Could it be that they have already left or maybe they’re just really good at hiding in fucking bushes around here. She wouldn’t be surprised if they bugged everything just to hear one of them slip.

They have ordered drinks and were chatting away when Dean and Jack arrive, both freshly showered. Jack already has a little tan from fishing. He looks good. He looks genuinely happy and it’s a drastic change from the Jack that arrived here this morning.

The chair beside her is empty as well as the chair across from the empty chair, and she sees that both of the men were aiming for the one beside her and Jack got there first, but then Jack quickly changes his mind to let Dean sit next to her.

Dean takes a seat and leans in to kiss her cheek. She catches a whiff of his cologne and takes a deeper breath because it smells so good. By this stage, they have perfected their lovey dovey couple routine like Sam suggested on the first day, and Sam grins when he sees how natural they’re handling it.

When she looks up, Jack’s winks before he grins brightly.

She leans into Dean to whisper in his ears, “Who is that and what have you done to my brother?”

Dean has to chuckle at that, “We talked, everything’s fine.”

“No, seriously, what have you done? You exchanged him with a robot, didn’t you?”

He tilts his head towards her. Their noses almost touch, his hand comes up to cup her chin and he kisses her, smirks after he parts, “Baby, it’s okay. We talked it out. We’re good,”

She doesn’t quite trust Dean. Something doesn’t sit right with her but she doesn’t say anything. She’s got to find a time to talk to Jack in private but maybe not here because she never knows who could listen into them. She’ll have to do it as soon as they’re back home.

After the meal when they are waiting for dessert, Dean looks over to Jack, “You wanna tell them or shall I?”

“Tell us what?” Y/N frowns, already thinking of the worst. Thinking about Jack telling her that he drops out of college or some shit.

Jack grins, “Nothing bad, Y/N. Dean offered me an undergraduate work experience at his company.”

“Yeah, he’s gonna be looking into the company for three months, if he wants he can stay longer.” Dean says.

“And what did you say?” She asks her brother.

“Of course I said yes,” Jack’s smile widens, “That’s going to look awesome on my CV.”

She can’t find it in her heart to object. Not when her brother’s smile is so big.

The others went on to the bar but she decided to call it a day. She parts with her brother, telling him to behave or else Sam’s gonna beat his ass. Jack didn’t find it very funny, though. Dean insisted on going to the room with her, although she said that he doesn’t have to.

Back in their bungalow, they strip to their underwear and brush their teeth. She takes her time to wash her face and when she walks out, Dean’s already laying in bed. The AC needs some time to catch up and it’s too warm to pull the cover up.

Y/N slides into bed next to him, curls up to his side and Dean abandons his phone to wrap an arm around her.

Dean kisses the top of her head, “You okay?” His fingers of the hand around her strokes at her chest, goes down to her boob to pinch at her nipple. She yelps out a laugh and he laughs with her.

“Yeah,” She says, turning in Dean's grip to lay her cheek on his chest, “Thanks for talking to Jack. Although I’d like to know what you talked about.”

“If I’d tell you that, I’d have to kill you.”

“Of course,” She groans, and changes the subject because she’s not sure if she wants to know. She’s not entirely sure if the things that he’ll tell her won’t break her heart and for the time being while they’re still in paradise, she’d rather keep up the facade and continue to enjoy what they have, “You sure about the work experience thing for Jack?”

“I’m pretty positive. He’s a bright guy. I think he’ll be a great addition to the company.”

“And you’re not just saying it because you owe him.”

Dean breathes out a weak chuckle, “Well, that I do, too. But no, we got to talk about his studies and I trust my guts. I’ve never been wrong.”

She tilts her head up to raise her eyebrow at him.

“Hey, two or three people this year, it’s not much.” He’s talking about the people he fired.

“Twelve, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, but I did not interview any of them, so it’s not my fault my people don’t have good people reading skills.”

“Oh and you do?”

“I do.” He says, without even thinking. He’s so full of himself, it blows her mind.

“But I don’t know where Jack should stay for the whole summer. Like, my apartment is barely big enough for myself.” She’s only voicing her doubts. She’s sure that they would manage. Maybe she can go live with Ruby for a while.

Dean’s quick to jump in, “He can live with me,”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Dean chuckles, “I have plenty of space and maybe you can drop by every now and then,”

He’s really talking about life after the court date, isn’t he? Talks about her going back to her old life and they resume what they are not and occasionally going to social events together as a fake married couple. She really doesn’t want to think about it yet.

So, instead of spilling him all her doubts, she says, “Yeah, why not,”

Smiling, he pulls her on top of him and one of his hands goes around her waist while one of them tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as he kisses her. She likes that, likes his kisses. They make her forget everything around her. The touch of his tongue electrifies her. It makes her feel something tingling down there and she clenches around nothing.

Yes, it’s good, she decides. She’s going to enjoy the last couple of days. She’s going to take what she wants, fill her heart with only happy memories so she can take them out and relieve them whenever she feels down. Maybe if someone treats her bad, she’ll think back and know that there’s someone out there who could treat her like Dean does.

She kisses along Dean’s jawline, down his throat and he cranes his neck, giving her better access. His scruff feels rough on her tongue. Sucking down a path, she kisses his chest, licks at a couple of freckles and it’s tickling him because he’s chuckling. She works her way to his nipple and Dean moans a little when she sucks and tickles them with the tip of her tongue. Grinning, she works down his body, dips her tongue into his navel before she kisses down his happy trail until she’s slotted between his thighs.

Looking up at Dean, she sees him looking at her with hungry eyes, that are a shade darker than usual. She grins as she lowers her face and places a kiss on his hardened cock through his underwear. She licks a broad stripe across the fabric along his shaft, and he bites down his bottom lip, swallowing down a groan that wants to leave his mouth.

Hooking her fingers into the elastic of his underwear, she slowly pulls the fabric down. His hard cock springs up and hits her nose. She has to giggle and Dean’s biting back his laugh.

She sits up a little to get the underwear off his legs and slots herself back on her elbow in between his thigh, stays on her knees and sticks her ass out for the visual effect. Dean opens up so easily for her.

His dick is hard, and leaking a little at the tip, but she takes her time, her hands are on his thigh as she opens them up a little further. She plants little kisses on either side of his thigh, close to his balls and he groans some more.

“Tease,” She hears him say and chuckles at that.

Finally she plants a kiss on his sac, and begins to lick and suck him there. She still doesn’t touch his dick but she feels it twitching and it feels heavy on her nose and forehead. Her tongue works around one ball, sucks it in to release it with a lewd pop and then she goes further down, licks on the underside of his sac, and Dean opens up his legs some more, giving her better access.

She’s learned that trick from Ruby. She said men would not admit it but a whole lot of them like it. She always wondered if Dean does, and apparently, the answer’s yes.

Her hands lift up his legs, and he spreads them even more as she toys her tongue along his rim.

“Jesus fuck—”

Chuckling, she licks some more, his balls are resting on her nose. God, he tastes even good there.

Dean’s breathing hard above her and she moves further up again, taking his leaking tip into her mouth and starts to bob her head. She can’t take him to the hilt, but she really tries, gagging around his dick as tears start to pool in her eyes.

After a while she changes into normal sucking, works the hard lengths in her hand while she toys at the tip of his dick, paying attention to the sensitive string.

“Just like that,” He whispers low and deep, “Good girl, looking so good with my cock in your mouth, baby.”

At these words, she bobs her head a little faster, sucks a little harder and Dean has to pull her off abruptly, “Woah, not so fast,” He chuckles with a shudder, “Don’t wanna blow too soon.”

He pulls her up by her arm, kisses her roughly, all sloppy wet and he groans as he sucks his own taste off her tongue, “Come on, ride my face,” His fingers are already tearing at her panties, pulling them down and she stands up to step out of them. She kneels down and his hands quickly finds her pussy, threads his fingers through her folds and unceremoniously plunges two of his thick fingers inside, making her moan out loud while he latches at her tit to suck and bite at her nipple. Her hands find his head, fingers digging into his scalp.

“God, I want you inside,” She moans as his mouth licks a wet trail to her other nipple.

“I have to taste you first,” He groans with her nipple in his mouth, “Just a couple of licks, please? Fucking love how you taste,”

She’s awfully wet but she just got wetter hearing his words.

What is this man doing to her?

Dean lets the nipple out of his mouth with a smacking sound, and he breathes hard as he slides down the bed a little and maneuvers her on top of him.

Fuck, his mouth seals around her clit and he starts to lap at the juice around her cunt. His hands are on her boobs, kneading them and tweaking her nipples. It feels so good and she can’t help but grind down into his face. Dean doesn’t seem to mind because he’s humming. It sounds as if she’s the most delicious thing he’s ever eaten and the sound of it turns her on.

Y/N’s so close to coming but she can’t possibly come on his face, can she? She’ll make him all messy and— oh god, there’s no stopping the pleasure wave that rolls through her legs up to her cunt. She’s coming strong and hard, pushes her pussy down into Dean’s face and she’s almost falling off him if it wasn’t for his hands on her tits keeping her upright.

She climbs off him, sits square on his chest with her pussy still tingling and Dean laughs, his face shiny from her cum.

His smile is cocky, all bravado and boyish youth, “Told ya it wouldn’t take long,”

She rolls her eyes and he slaps on her ass, “Come on, ride me,”

Dean helps her move down because she doesn’t know if she can on her own with her body still trembling. But when she regains her composure, she lays his twitching dick down and spreads her wet pussy lips around it, grinding on his shaft. It gives her the right friction but apparently, he thinks she’s a goddamn tease.

Y/N gives in, slips his dick inside and sits down slowly, letting him stretch her wide and he groans at the squeeze. She’s always so much tighter after she comes and it would take her a little while for the cramping of her walls to go away.

Bracing her hands on his chest, she starts to ride him, and he helps her with his hands around her hips. She switches into grinding after a while and has to moan out loud at how deep he’s inside.

“You looks so good,” Dean’s hand works up her stomach, cups at her tits and twirls at her nipple, making her arch her back, “Fucking perfect,”

She feels her orgasm approaching again, because her clit rubs perfectly against his pelvis and his huge dick is in her fucking cunt, oh my god, she fucks him faster. She comes with a loud moan, pressing her legs together and Dean squeezes his eyes shut at the pressure, he pulls her down by her arms, crashing her lips to his as he grunts out into her mouth and he buckles his pelvis up, his dick throbs and twitches in her cunt.

“Fuck,” He breathes out against her mouth, kisses her there, and pecks her nose, “Fuck,” He repeats and he smiles at her.

They take another shower before they settle back into bed and Dean has already turned off the lights when his phone rings.

He takes it to look at the screen, “Chuck,”

CH18

#light my fire #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #ceo!dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction

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roseskiesandbutterflies · 3 years ago

Text

Le Démon Déchu - Chapter 2: Réponses Et Plus De Questions

Summary: The summary is kind of long so please check a previous part or my masterlist if you want to read it.

Warning(s): threat, swearing

Word Count: 6.8k+

Inspiration: Do You Know What Eternity Is? by Elderly_Worm on AO3, Great Omens (The Big One) by falsepremise on AO3, Pray For Us, Icarus series by Atalan on AO3, Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model of Trauma: An Integrative Approach by Nnm on AO3, wasteland, baby by john1513 on AO3, Not of Us by ShesAKillerQueen98 on AO3, How to Win a Lifetime Achievement Award for Services to Television (and how not to) by GaryOldman on AO3, Doctor Who (don’t ask) and, of course, Good Omens itself

A/N: Okay I took a bit of a hiatus from writing literally anything for about five months so sorry about that but I’m back now!! That’s the main thing. Also, I’ve left high school now which is very exciting! That does mean I’ll have so much more time to write and I’m definitely going to try and use this summer to establish some kind of routine for writing so that when I start college, I won’t get too overwhelmed with both my studies and with updating my fics. That’s the plan anyway so don’t hold me to that lmao. With any luck, now I’ve actually said that it’ll have to happen. (I wrote that part of this note back in May when it was the start of the summer. It is currently September and I’m just about to finally publish this chapter and I assure you, I am cringing at my own optimism.) Sorry this took so long to post. This chapter has been in the works since May (yes, I know I’m terrible) but I actually got a lot more writing done in that time that what you just see in this chapter. All will be revealed soon. I just promise that I have been productive. Once you’ve read this chapter, you have my blessing to translate the title of this fic. Hopefully it will make sense.

I just wanted to point out something about the playlist I linked in the previous chapter. I am well aware that there are some rather problematic people in it, namely Sia. I want you all to know that I don’t support her in any way (I don’t like her at all I think she’s a complete ableist twat). Her songs are only on there because of how well they fit with the story (a lot of this will become clearer as the story goes on).

I also wanted to point out that I know that if angels do exist, then their true forms probably wouldn’t look anything like humans. I’m well aware of that, I’m not an idiot, I don’t know if any of you remember when people started googling ‘angel true form’ and some people got scared lmao. The point is, we’ve all seen the pictures. But for the purpose of this story, and honestly just to make it easier for me to describe what the characters are doing, we’re going to have to pretend that they did look like humans. Can I claim creative license with this one? Maybe it got lost in translation because there is probably no way someone could describe how an angel truly looks in any human language? I don’t know, just roll with it.I know that this chapter had so much exposition and explanation in it but I can promise you two things. One, there is still much to be revealed. Two, I promise this isn’t just bad writing on my part. Just trust that I needed to put this all in this early on.

And how is everyone doing after the season 2 announcement? I mean, at the time of writing this specific part of my notes, it only got announced about an hour ago lmao. I’m very fucking excited, oh my god. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since I found out I can’t lie. Catch me trying to finish this before it comes out in case things occur which means I have to change things in this story. I can’t be arsed for that. Oh well. Hopefully it’ll read like those Sherlock fics that people wrote in between series 2 and series 3 if that doesn’t happen.

Taglist: @briarrose26

Ask or comment to be on my taglist! Let me know if it’s for a specific fandom(s) or series. Full list is in my bio.

Hermit (upright) + Five of Wands (upright)

Conflict. Reflection. Resurfacing memories.

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

Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.

We know who our enemies are. We know.

– Richard Siken (Detail of the Fire)

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

“Fuck.”

The angel and demon exchanged glances of what could only be described as thinly veiled panic, while the woman in front of them just looked annoyed at the most.

“They couldn’t wait five minutes, could they?” she muttered, pinching at the bridge of her nose in frustration before standing up again, “Look, just stay down here, I’m gonna go sort this out. With any luck they won’t have actually realised you’re here too.”

“Wait, how do you know they’re here for you?” Crowley asked, suddenly curious as to what business Eloise might have with Heaven.

“Just a gut feeling,” she said before making her way to the spiral staircase behind them, muttering to herself, “If they were here for you, I feel like they would have at least used the front door.”

The other two waited until she’d run upstairs before exchanging a quick glance, an unspoken word, and following her up.

Meanwhile, Eloise was hovering outside a room at the end of the corridor which she could only assume was the bedroom. She was strangely hesitant, not out of fear of them, simply out of fear of the unknown. She hadn’t spoken to anyone in that room for millennia, and something told her that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. She took a deep breath, even though she technically didn’t need it, letting a wave of faux confidence wash over her, and stepped inside. Don’t crumble now. You’ve come too far to crumble now.

“Ah, Mariel, long time no see,” Gabriel smiled coldly, brushing the dust off his white suit. Flanked by two other angels, he stood in the wreckage of the bedroom without even acknowledging the damage they must have caused when they crashed in. Beside him were Beelzebub and Hastur, who both looked as though they had been dragged kicking and screaming to come here. Beelzebub in particular kept shooting metaphorical daggers at Gabriel, who remained perfectly oblivious. The entire ceiling had caved in from the impact of their crash, the setting sun painting the doorway where Eloise stood in a pale gold and casting a dark shadow over the others.

She’d grimaced at the use of her old name; it was too unfamiliar, too ancient. Mariel was the name of a long-dead version of herself. Once upon a time, she’d embraced it, but that was once upon a time. Once upon a time long gone.

“Almost like I’ve been avoiding you on purpose,” she muttered, leaning against the doorway as she stared intrusively at each person in the room, observing, assessing. She silently revelled in the blatant discomfort in each of their faces.

“No need to be so rude,” Gabriel said, doing anything to avoid her eyes, his previous confident façade now shattered.

Eloise stared at him in disbelief, “What exactly were you expecting? A fucking welcome party? I haven’t seen any of you in over six thousand years and you just crash through the roof of my house, unannounced and uninvited, so yeah, forgive me for being a little irritated.” She couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty. She’d barely been in Aziraphale’s bookshop for fifteen minutes and she was already pretending she owned it.

She watched smugly as he squirmed under her gaze, desperately looking to the others to say something in response. A moment or two passed before Beelzebub’s head suddenly snapped up in confusion, “Are you alone?”

Shit. She’d hoped that they wouldn’t have noticed the presence of the two who were definitely not downstairs like she’d asked. She swallowed, trying not to let any kind of emotion show on her face, trying not to give the game up that quickly, “Yeah, I live on my own.” She watched the whole group of them squint in concentration, trying to sense any other beings in the house. She sighed, changing the subject before they could comment on it any further, “Look, what do you want? I don’t have all day so if you could make it quick then that would be much appreciated.”

Gabriel looked back at her, his suave exterior unfortunately making a return, “Hey, we just wanted to check up on you, see how you’re doing-”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” she snapped. She pushed herself off from the doorway, stalking towards the others, “You have had six thousand years to ‘check up on me’, don’t pretend you’ve only started to care now.”

She was met with only silence as Gabriel and Beelzebub glanced at each other awkwardly, looking very much like chastised children. Suddenly the latter groaned and cried, “You can’t just leave Hell!”

“Oh, here we go,” Eloise muttered, rolling her eyes, bored already.

“You can’t! You Fell from Heaven, so you go to Hell, there isn’t a third option!”

“Well, apparently there is,” she shrugged.

“No there isn’t!” they argued, face screwed up like a petulant child.

“Then what do you call this then?” she asked, unfolding her wings for the second time that day. She studied their reactions closely, scrutinising coal-black eyes piercing through their very souls. She was searching for any hint of shock, of recognition, of anything that could clue her in as to what was going on in their heads at that moment. All she could find, however, was pure, unadulterated confusion. Which was annoying when her wings were supposed to be an answer to their unasked questions.

Gabriel stumbled over his words, “Good Lord, how did you even-”

Eloise cut him off curtly, no longer having the patience to listen to his incoherent mumbles. She instead turned to Beelzebub who at least had the decency to look a little more composed, “That would be what you could sense then. I’ve got both Heaven and Hell in me, that’s a lot of energy to pick up on.” She stared right through them, daring them to say anything else.

“Must be,” they replied slowly, though they didn’t look at all convinced.

Gabriel held up a hand, his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing, “No hold on, how did you even manage that?”

“I left Hell,” Eloise said simply, “Why should I have black wings? I’m not some demon who ran away from everything. I left. Permanently. I looked Hell in the eye and walked away. You know what? Fuck it, I looked Satan in the eyes and walked away.”

“You what?” he stuttered.

“Yeah, you heard me. You have a problem with me leaving Hell then go on! Take that up with the bloody devil,” she said, staring them down, daring them to retaliate. She smirked when she was met with pure, uncomfortable silence, “Except you won’t, will you? Because you don’t actually give two fucks about me. Just like I said, if you did then you would have chased me up a long time ago. Quite frankly, I think you must have been glad to have me out of your hair,” she sighed, half sad, half amused when they couldn’t even meet her eye. She paused for a moment, wondering how far she could push this, before asking, “You know what I think is really going on here? I think the pair of you are feeling a bit bruised after the absolute shitshow that was Armageddon last year, which, by the way, fucking hilarious. I think your egos are feeling a little sore after a literal child stopped you from ending the world, so you’re thinking ‘hmm, what would be an easy win so that we don’t feel like total shit? Oh yeah, what about that demon who ran away all that time ago? That should be easy to sort out.’. Well, love to disappoint, but you’re not getting me that easily, especially when not a single one of us actually wants me back, and Sandalphon, take one more step further I swear I will dropkick you back to Heaven,” she snapped, glaring at the angel who had been menacingly inching closer while she had been talking. He reluctantly stepped back alongside Gabriel, looking a little more than miffed that his plan hadn’t worked out. “You really want me back? Get your bosses to talk to me because I don’t actually see why it’s any of your business. No middle men. Just God, Satan and me. I’ll see what they have to say about all this. Questions?” she asked, tone snapping from one extreme to another, almost as if she had just been possessed.

Gabriel stared at her, mouth gaping like a fish, “You can’t just boss us around like that.”

“What? Like how you bossed us around all those years?” she replied without missing a beat, real rage, real danger seeping into her voice now, “I think we’re done here.”

“But-”

“I said, I think we’re done here,” she said, leaving no room for arguments. She gestured to the sorry excuse for a room around them, “Now, if you wouldn’t mind cleaning this up.”

“Why can’t you do it? You can miracle things too,” Gabriel said, desperate for any kind of leverage over Eloise.

“You’re right, I could, but I didn’t make this mess, and I personally believe that you should face the consequences of your actions, Gabriel,” she said pointedly, watching as he visibly gulped. In a matter of seconds, the room was restored to its original state and Eloise was left alone in the room, no indicators that she was ever with any other people remaining.

She sighed and all but collapsed into a chair that may or may not have existed a few moments ago, confident façade shattered completely. She breathed heavily in exhaustion, as if she’d just run a marathon; she supposed she had just run a mental one. Her emotions were bugging her to no end. It was strange. She wasn’t scared, per se. There was very little that Gabriel or Beelzebub could do to her that would frighten her anymore. She tried her best to compose herself, writing off the tsunami inside her mind as just plain old adrenaline, before calling out, “You can come in now. I know you guys are outside, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Crowley and Aziraphale walked into the room, one looking considerably more sheepish than the other. Aziraphale perched awkwardly on the freshly reconstructed bed, “We’re sorry–”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, we’re not.”

Eloise and Crowley exchanged a glance, amused looks on both of their faces while Aziraphale simply looked distressed. Eloise turned back to him and smiled sympathetically, “I told you, it’s fine. I would have done the same,” she admitted, looking away before collecting herself once again, “So, I’m guessing you have a lot of questions–”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” Crowley muttered as he took a seat beside Aziraphale, although it was a very loose definition of ‘taking a seat’.

Aziraphale glared at him while Eloise just sighed and reluctantly said, “I think it might be better if I just show you.”

Crowley cocked his head in confusion, “Show us what?”

She brought her chair closer to the edge of the bed and put out her hands, “Take my hands. Brace yourselves.”

Mariel was standing before a crowd of angels, dozens upon dozens of disgusted faces staring right at her. She couldn’t quite remember getting there. She had been in the pitch-dark holding cell and the next thing she knew, she was here. Blinding white light surrounded them, harshly illuminating her vulnerabilities before all of Heaven. She tried her best to keep her chin up even though she absolutely hated the fact that they could see the bruises from when she had been arrested that were now blooming on her face. She frowned as she noticed the lack of measures preventing her from escaping. All that was keeping her there was Gabriel’s presence at her side, cold violet eyes pointedly ignoring her. He really was an arrogant bastard for assuming that she wouldn’t even try to make a run for it. Just because he was right this one time, it didn’t mean that he shouldn’t have come prepared. Mariel sighed and looked up at the angels staring down at her. Michael was sat higher than everyone in the centre of the crowd, face void of all emotion as she said, “The Principality Mariel. You’re on trial today for betraying the will of the Almighty, rebelling against all that is good and light in the universe...”

Mariel blocked the rest of her pretentious speech out as she droned on about all the awful things she’d supposedly done to deserve this. It was all lies anyway. She knew the real reason she was here. There were a few things that stood out to her despite it all, things that nearly made her laugh. She’d known that they’d needed to conjure up some reasons for condemning her, but this was just ridiculous. Gabriel really had gone to extraordinary yet desperate lengths to slander her in her final moments in this Someone-forsaken place. She was surprised that the angels gathered to watch her downfall believed a word of this. She tried her best not to resent them, though. It wasn’t like they had anything better to believe in. Especially considering the amused smirk that had crept its way onto her face.

She returns to reality just in time to hear Michael ask, “What do you have to say to defend yourself?”

“I’ve done nothing I need to defend,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“Don’t make this worse for yourself than it already is,” Gabriel muttered dangerously from where he stood beside her.

Mariel turned to look at him in disbelief. “How the fuck could this get any worse, Gabriel?” she hissed, fury flaring up in her eyes.

He just looked back at her condescendingly, “Do you really need me to answer that?”

She pointedly refused to reply, turning back to face Michael, determined to ignore him.

The next part goes past in a blur for Mariel. Michael speaks again, though she doesn’t listen. Then suddenly there are shouts of anger, screams of rage, coming from the gathered crowd. They spit with venom as they hurl insults at her. She doesn’t hear a word. It’s as though her head is under water, completely submerged in the stone cold anger that seeps through her body, and suddenly Mariel is drowning in the realisation that this is really happening, oh God this is really happening.

Why? Why is this happening to me? You listening, God? Look me in the eye and tell me why this is happening.

She doesn’t get an answer, and though she wasn’t expecting one, it still hurts. Because she knows that she’ll never get an answer from Her again now.

Eventually she feels a tug on her arm from where Gabriel has been standing, dragging her away from the crowd and out her of current state of mind. She could feel her senses coming back to her as she stumbled backwards, but everything was crashing down on her too quickly, too harshly. She did her best to shove the rising panic as deep down insider her as she could. There was no way she would let anyone here see her in that state. She couldn’t let them think they’d won.

She didn’t even realise she had reached the edge of the ground she was standing on, the edge of Heaven itself, Gabriel no longer grabbing her arm. She nearly found herself peering over the edge, but stopped herself before she could lean too far. It may have helped her in the past but now was not the time to give in to her curiosity. And she didn’t trust Gabriel to not push her the moment he had the chance. She turned her head to glare fiercely at him, piercing holes in his very soul. She could slowly feel her anxiety being replaced by cool rage as she found herself saying, “Any institution that tries to silence anyone who opposes them is inherently corrupt.” She stared knowingly at his discomfort as he forced himself to face her. He knew what she meant by that. He knew.

He took a second to compose himself before practically scoffing in her face, “Don’t preach at me.”

Mariel cocked her head as she studied him. She watched as his eyes subconsciously flicked back to the crowd, to the other Archangels. He blatantly wanted nothing more than to re-join his fellow angels, the only beings who understood why he was doing what he was doing, or were at least supposed to understand anyway. Somehow she doubted they were all as cold-hearted and self-absorbed as the angel in front of her. She considered him for a moment before saying simply, “Your quest for power will kill you in the end.”

He furrowed his brows in somewhat amused confusion, “Is that a threat?”

“No. It’s the truth,” she blinked at him before leaning in and murmuring in his ear, “It will be your downfall.”

“The only one who’s going to Fall around here is you,” he said dangerously. Mariel leaned back and watched the lethal glimmer in his eye wither and die under the intensity of her gaze.

She just smiled. “We’ll see.” She let herself look at him for a moment longer before blinking away the tears and cautiously taking a small step backwards. She could feel where the ground ended beneath her feet and was sure not to step any further. She took one last look of the place she once called home, embracing how it felt for the last time though she knew she wouldn’t miss it.

She closed her eyes for a moment and fell back.

Mariel was Falling. That bit she knew, but much more than that? Everything was happening too fast for her to notice. And yet, it was as if she was existing in slow-motion. She worried for a moment that this was, in fact, her fate; doomed to remain in a perpetual state of limbo, of Falling, for all eternity. The only thing telling her otherwise was the view of Heaven above her, which she realised only too late was slowly shrinking into nothing. Mariel found herself reaching her own arms out, grasping for Heaven. They were opposite ends of a magnet being roughly pulled away from each other by an invisible force.

You hear that God? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? And don’t you dare tell me it’s all part of your plan because right now, the only thing I want is to be back where I should be and I can’t even have that.

She pulled herself out of her mind and back into reality; she’d have plenty of time in Hell to yell at a God who’d never listen, let alone answer. She only just started to register her surroundings, the fact that she was actually Falling, who knows how far and for how long, tumbling through the air at an unimaginable speed, plummeting towards a place that could be anything from seconds to hours away. The deafening wind that screamed in her ears, drowning out the screams which may have been coming from her mouth or her mind, who was she to say? Air whipped around her body, icier and more painful than any words that could ever be uttered by the angels above her. It wasn’t until she could no longer see any hint of Heaven on the horizon that she started to feel the tears finally fall, trickling down her face and floating slightly due to the force of the Fall.

Then suddenly it came. She felt it in the very tips of her wings first, a strange tingling sensation, as though hundreds and then thousands of pins were skirting the edges of her corporeal being. It spread over the rest of her wings, and then her body, at a faster pace than she could keep track of until her whole being felt as though it was burning. The pain grew, and it grew, and it grew, and she didn’t think she could physically take any more pain when she looked up in horror at her own freshly blackened wings. Her beautiful, holy wings which had once been the softest, purest white, were now stained with evil and ash. For the first time since she started Falling, however long ago that might have been, she let out a choked sob that racked through her whole body and through the ever-changing air around her. Nobody heard her cries. Nobody heard her screams as the searing pain in her chest grew stronger. She couldn’t even begin to work out whether it was physical or emotional but it was there and it burned a hole, a gaping wound, through her soul, leaving a scar fated to never heal and to forever haunt her-

Eloise was crying. She’d tried so hard to prevent the steady streams that were now running down her cheeks, but that was a memory that she’d never wanted to relive. She looked upwards for a moment, trying to regain control of her emotions and her breathing, before peeling her hands away from the two sat in front of her. She roughly wiped the tears from her face, and suddenly the only thing telling you she had been crying were the bloodshot eyes that Crowley tried to ignore as he said bluntly, “I’m still confused.”

“Crowley, give her a minute,” Aziraphale chastised him, furrowing his brows at the demon before he turned back to Eloise with kind eyes and a kinder heart, “Are you alright, my dear?”

She nodded without much hesitation, “I’m fine, it’s okay.” She certainly wasn’t fine, nor was it okay, but the last thing she wanted was to have to deal with her feelings in front of two people she was trying her best not to scare off. She looked back at Crowley, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

He looked at her in understanding, for if anyone knew her thought process in that moment, it was him. “Right, so you Fell and became a demon. Then what?”

“Well, you know what Hell’s like,” she started, looking pointedly at Crowley. She waited for him to nod before continuing, “Not my scene at all. I just point-blank refused to do anything they asked of me. Naturally they didn’t like that much. Eventually I was called in to see Satan about it. I remember thinking, ‘well, that’s that then. Terrible knowing you all.’, because I didn’t think I was going to survive that. Turns out he was just annoyed that I was being a bloody nuisance to everyone else, but he was too amused to really do anything about it, so he basically just told me to piss off. Leave Hell, don’t come back, and I won’t tell anyone where you’ve gone or that you’re even alive. Not exactly a deal I could refuse, so I left, came to Earth, been here ever since. I think everyone just assumed he’d killed me,” she shrugged as if she hadn’t just destroyed the whole idea of eternal damnation with just a few sentences. She smiled to herself as they gaped at her for a moment, though she doubted they realised they were doing it.

Crowley somehow managed to gather his senses quick enough to hold up a hand and say, “Wait, but when you were talking to Gabriel and Beelzebub and that lot, you said they had six thousand years to check up on you. Why would you say that if they thought you were dead?” He narrowed his eyes at her. He wasn’t altogether quite sure why he seemed to be so keen on finding any gaps in her story, but he needed to be able to trust that she was telling the truth. Or at least that’s what he told himself.

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes, and they didn’t exactly seem surprised to see you alive.”

Eloise grinned. You two are gonna be fun, I can tell. “You’re both very observant, I have to give you credit for that.” She paused in thought for a second before starting carefully, “You see, the trouble with me is that I’m not really one for keeping a low profile. I’m too noisy, so to speak, and I don’t even realise it most of the time. This demon I hadn’t exactly been the nicest to back in Hell saw me in Babylon, gosh, it must have been eighteen thirty something BC? Anyways, he ratted me out to Beelzebub who must have told Gabriel all about it. I had about a decade of this bloody demon trying to discorporate me just to see if it would force me to go back to Hell, then one day he just stopped, and I never saw him again. Beelzebub probably told him to piss off.”

They were both quiet again for a little while. Eloise didn’t even think to say anything. It might be a rare occasion, but she did know when to keep her mouth shut when it mattered. She could see the cogs turning in their heads as if it was projected in the air above them. Eventually Crowley murmured, “I didn’t even know you could do that, you know, leave.”

She shook her head with a strange kind of sympathy that came from recognising an experience you had far too long ago, “Neither did I. It stills shocks me sometimes if I think about it too much.”

A few seconds passed before Crowley cleared his throat abruptly and said, “They called you Mariel. I thought you said your name was Eloise.”

She hesitated before answering. She knew exactly what he was doing, she’d been doing it for the whole of their conversation thus far, but just because she tended to bury her emotions, it didn’t mean that she liked it when others did it. She decided to ignore the hypocrisy of that thought, how ironic, she thought to herself, and instead explained, “It is. Mariel was my angel name. You know how it is,” she looked pointedly at Crowley again, hoping that Aziraphale would be able to put the pieces together. She didn’t actually know how much he knew about what it was like to Fall and become a demon.

“Oh, so is Eloise your demon name?” Aziraphale asked politely.

“No,” she said curtly, instantly feeling guilty when she saw the hurt that flashed over Aziraphale’s face. She grimaced and explained in a gentler tone, “I chose it for myself when I came to Earth. Hell tried to change my name after I Fell but I just refused.” She studied him for a second, watching his eyes dart about, before saying, “You want to ask something, I can tell. What is it?”

He looked a little startled at being caught out, momentarily glancing at Crowley for support, probably subconsciously, Eloise noted with a smile. “I, well, I couldn’t help but notice that you mentioned Armageddon. Back when you were speaking with, um, well, you know. H-how did you know about that?”

“I might have been there.” The words rushed out of her mouth in a much less casual manner than what she’d been aiming for, coming out in a sort of jumbled heap that took Crowley and Aziraphale a moment to decipher.

Crowley, the poor sod, could only think to lean forward and ask a simple, “You what?”

She jumped to defend herself, wanting to avoid the onslaught of questions if she could, “Not actually at the airbase, but I was in the area. I was living in Tadfield at the time.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes, although the hint of a smirk on his face told her it was more in amusement than suspicion, “How did you know it was at the airbase?”

Eloise couldn’t help but chuckle to herself because of course, they’d notice her choice of words, “I knew Adam and his mates. I ran an ice cream shop, would you believe it. He came and told me all about it the day after,” she smiled fondly before suddenly coming alive with excitement, “That’s actually how I found out about you two. That’s why I’m here. Because I thought I was the only one trying to stop the world ending, but apparently I wasn’t. I had to see for myself.”

A moment passed before Aziraphale asked quietly, “You were trying to stop it?”

Eloise, not noticing the newly subdued atmosphere, launched herself into a painfully over-enthusiastic explanation, “Yeah, it was quite clever really, if I do say so myself. I made sure Adam was swapped with the American baby in the hopes that he would have a human enough upbringing to perhaps change things. Seems to have worked,” she shrugged, before finally taking in the two shocked faces that were staring back at her. Her brows furrowed and her face fell as she asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You switched the babies?” Crowley asked blankly, although it came out as more of a statement than a question.

Her face screwed up as she tried to work out how best to explain herself. “Well, I say switched, it was more of a ‘made sure the demon dropping the antichrist off went to the wrong delivery room’ kind of thing. Feel sorry for the poor sod who had to deal with that but needs must.”

Crowley blinked at her and said bluntly, “I was the poor sod who had to deal with that.”

Eloise looked at him for a moment as about five different jigsaw pieces finally clicked in her head, before she threw her head back in realisation, “Oh shit, so you were. I knew your name sounded familiar.”

“You bastard, we spent six years raising the wrong child because of you!” he exclaimed, wagging his finger at her and jumping off of the bed at one point before Aziraphale tugged him back down. Eloise didn’t know whether to laugh or run for her life, for the menace in his words was betrayed by the disbelieving laugh in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you did what now?” she asked, only just processing what he’d just said, and she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips at his dramatic antics. She knew not to push it when Aziraphale just lifted a finger and pursed his lips with the look of someone who’d rather never bring up said event again.

“Oh bloody heaven, I can’t believe this,” Crowley shook his head, chuckling to himself. Although part of him resented it, he couldn’t help but look at Eloise differently now as they laughed like little kids together. Maybe it was the fact that she seemed so much more like them now, so much more human. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been trying to stop the apocalypse and all the implications that came with the fact. Suddenly he just wanted to know more about her, but he quickly silenced that thought. One thing at a time.

She raised her shoulders with a confused look on her face, giggling as she said, “Sorry? Well, I didn’t know, did I?”

They locked eyes for a moment before bursting into laughter again at the sheer absurdity of it all, leaving Aziraphale slightly bewildered and more than slightly exasperated at the pair. It took them a few moments to finally calm down but once they did, Crowley sobered his tone of voice as he asked, “Right, back to what happened before we came in. Anything we need to keep an eye out for?”

Though he didn’t say it, Eloise could see the unasked question in his eyes. Are we safe? She smiled softly, “Nah, you two’ll be fine. Basically I told them if they want to talk to me, then they need to get their bosses involved, and somehow I highly doubt God and Satan are gonna pop down for a friendly chat any time soon. Even then, you two should be fine. I don’t think any of that lot clocked on that you were here.”

Crowley nodded in understanding, and it didn’t escape Eloise’s attention how the remaining dregs of tension visibly dissipated from both of their bodies. Aziraphale and Crowley looked at each other for a moment, the relief palpable from the pair of them. Eloise averted her eyes, giving them the privacy that they didn’t necessarily need but probably did want. She allowed herself a moment to ponder their relationship. They were very in tune with each other, very in sync, that much was obvious. Are they in love? The question sounded ridiculous the moment she thought it. Of course they are, look at them. She’d seen that look time and time again over the millennia. Although when she thought about the way they looked at each other further, that lead to another question. Do they know? The hint of yearning in their eyes was subtle but it was there. No, absolutely not. They’re too comfortable with each other. They’re a unit, that much she could tell. A unit that might not want to be disturbed.

Oh dear.

She looked back up at them hesitantly, unsure of what to say for the first time that evening. Eventually she said, “I’d better go. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome.”

Crowley frowned. Hadn’t she said she’d been travelling for a while? “You got somewhere to stay?”

Eloise paused. She’d definitely not been expecting that response. “Not yet. There is a flat I was going to rent but the people haven’t moved out yet because of the lockdown and it seems rude to miracle them away. I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

“Stay here,” Crowley said almost instantly, then pulled a face of confusion at how quickly he replied, “I mean, only if you want to.”

Eloise blinked at that. Surely, they wouldn’t want her there? What reason could they possibly have to want her there? “Wait, are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Crowley just shrugged, “It’s not a problem. What are your options anyway? No hotels are open, and you can’t stay with anyone.”

“Only if you’re sure,” she murmured, still wary for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She glanced at Aziraphale for confirmation; it was his bookshop after all.

He nodded firmly, “Of course. I’ve been told the sofa is remarkably comfy,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, to which she grinned broadly.

A short while and a few miracles later, the sofa downstairs had become a makeshift bed that was significantly larger and softer than it had remembered it being. Eloise was currently settled on it; all it had taken was ten minutes for her to completely crash out. Aziraphale and Crowley had left her in peace with a chuckle, heading up to the bedroom they shared (that wasn’t out of choice, mind you. Simply because there was only one bedroom in the bookshop. No other reason.) One slightly confused item of furniture aside, all seemed to be well in the bookshop.

Upstairs in the bedroom, an angel and a demon were sitting in the same bed. Neither of them had thought to turn off the lights, so they were sat in thick silence in the bedroom. Aziraphale didn’t usually come up to bed, not as used to sleeping as Crowley was, instead opting to read the night away downstairs. However this seemed impolite considering their new guest, so he’d come up with Crowley. And while Crowley was mulling this over he finally stumbled upon why he felt so uneasy.

Aziraphale hadn’t brought a book up with him.

As bizarre a concern as that may seem, Crowley could always trust Aziraphale to bring a book up to bed with him on the rare occasion he came up at night. That was one of the things he lo- liked about him. Liked. He looked at Aziraphale curiously, noting the slight frown on his face as he stared into space. How deep in his head must he have been to forget a book? “You alright, angel?” he asked as softly as he could so as to not startle him.

He looked at Crowley with wide eyes that darted away almost instantly as he started to play with his hands in his lap, “Yes, my dear, I’m fine. I just realised something, is all.”

Crowley cocked his head in interest, “Oh really? What was it?”

He was silent for a little while before saying in a voice no louder than a whisper, “I think I was there when she Fell.”

Crowley felt his eyebrows raise in shock, looking away for a second to try and compose himself. “Right. Well, that’s a thing.”

“Quite.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of what this meant now, “And was she telling the truth? Did all that actually happen?”

“Yes. I remember it perfectly well. Clear as day,” he managed to choke out with a forced smile before going back to his routine fidgeting.

Crowley laid a gentle hand on top of Aziraphale’s, stopping what he was doing and getting him to actually look him in the eye for longer than a second. “You sure you’re alright?”

“I am quite well. Don’t fret,” he said, and despite Crowley’s concern, he couldn’t pretend that the smile on Aziraphale’s face wasn’t genuine, however small it may have been.

He reluctantly let it go, changing the subject quickly, “You alright with her staying here? I know it just sort of happened.”

The smile on his face only grew, much to Crowley’s surprise, “It’s alright. After all, wasn’t it you who said we’re on our own side now? I think she’s the first person we’ve met who might understand what that means.”

Crowley tried not to think too much about the fact that Aziraphale had actually listened to him when he’d said that, let alone remembered it, instead opting for a casual, “Yeah, I suppose so. Right, I’m gonna get some sleep. I, um, yeah,” he stammered out awkwardly, cursing his brain for not thinking of literally any other decent response.

Aziraphale simply smiled fondly at him, “Indeed. Goodnight, my dear.”

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

Hello my love,

At the time of writing this, I do not know what the future holds. For me it’s an uncertain, unstoppable force, and it’s not one I think I can fend off for much longer. I’ve tried, please believe that I’ve tried. I’ve tried for your sake to prevent the inevitable. But it’s coming. I can feel it. It won’t be long now, I don’t think.

If you’re reading this, it means I was right, and I have Fallen. I know you’re probably confused and scared and that there is a biting anger bubbling inside you. I wish I could tell you why this is happening. I wish I could tell you that this is all a huge misunderstanding that will be resolved soon.

I wish I could tell you I love you one more time.

But I can’t. There are many things I can’t do now, and it’ll do me no good to dwell on this any longer than I have to. To survive we must focus on what we can do, and that’s exactly what I’m asking you to do.

If I know myself as well as I think I do, there are many things I would have liked to have said to you upon our final farewell, but didn’t because I wanted to make sure you were alright. Don’t feel guilty about this, my love. Think of it as my last debt to you being repaid.

I have a plan. Well, it’s more of an idea, and it might not work. And it’s because of this that I shan’t tell you exactly what it is. It seems cruel to allow you to hope for something that might never come into fruition. But please put your faith in me, and in our love, for we will prevail. One way or another.

I hope that you didn’t wait to read this letter because you were scared of its contents, though I’m sure this isn’t the case. You were always brave. It was always something I loved about you. Your quiet, beautiful, roaring courage in the face of such turmoil and anguish. You always had the courage to be kind and to love with all your being, even when everything was against you. No one would have blamed you if you had turned cold and bitter, and yet you chose not to. I admire you for it every day. My idea, should it work, will require us both to be incredibly brave. But more on that another day. It’s that bravery and that strength that you will need to rely on now. That, and the thought of me. Though I may not physically be with you, but I hope that my love’s own soul is enough.

I won’t sign off this letter, because this is not where our story ends. There is much left to be written. And I need you to remember that each day we are parted. Until the next time, my love.

#good omens #good omens headcanon #good omens fic #good omens imagine #crowley #crowley headcanon #crowley imagine #Aziraphale #aziraphale imagine #aziraphale headcanon #Ineffable Husbands

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fuck-customers · 5 years ago

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BEAUTY SUPPLIES ARE NOT ESSENTIAL

The week of March 15th was the absolute week from hell at my job. I work at that one beauty supply store, ya’know the one with a lady’s name? First off the higher ups treat store level employees like fucking shit and I seriously feel like they screw us so far as pay and hours go, but that’s for another time. Anyways that was the week here in my home state (CT) that things with Covid-19 really got bad. It was also the week my boss happened to take off just so she could use some time before my 6 month pregnant coworker went out on leave. Mind you she took this week off months ago, not knowing the hell that was about to break loose.

Some background ,besides my boss and myself (only other full time besides my boss), I have 3 coworkers. A new girl who’s very nice, but a complete idiot, that my other coworkers and I agree my boss under trained before she put her with us. My coworker who’s pregnant, and has some mental health issues of her own. We can call her P. And my other coworker who’s been there a few years herself. I’ll call her H because she’s a hairdresser. I’ve been at my job nearly 7 years, and pretty much run the show when my boss isn’t around. Not like ordering my coworkers around, but paperwork and other tasks become my problem if the boss isn’t around. However I have really bad anxiety. It makes my skin condition flair up when my anxiety is bad. (And let’s face it this pandemic has got my anxiety through the roof) Oh and not to mention I was dealing with a freshly healed hand that I cut at work that required stitches, and this crazy whitehead I got on my forehead that kept my eye swollen half shut for half the week.

Sunday- it’s me and the new girl, who’s over confident but cannot keep up. Sundays are either busy or slow as all get out. It was super busy. I couldn’t get any of my normal Sunday stuff done. Customers looked at me funny because of my eye. Come to find out my boss later says she thought she put P on. Which would of been better because she’s more competent.

Monday- I walk into H telling me it’s been super busy, it continues that way. H and I try to keep the store somewhat sorted. We’re surprised with orders to close 30 mins before they wanted us close. We do what we have to do. I tell my manager who has me take a work iPad home so she or I can keep an eye on stuff if need be. I do not do the important tasks I had to do that day, there was just no time. Thankfully it saved me from having to close alone and be there 3 hours alone at night.

Tuesday- I’m off, but I drop the iPad off to my boss at her home. I hear it was crazy busy at work from P. They’ve cut our hours being open from 9-9 to 10-6.

Wednesday- I’m now working open to close the rest of the week. Wednesday our shipments come in and this is no different. It’s only the new girl and I today. It ends up being chaos. Everyone’s coming in exclaiming how happy they are we’re open. People apparently really can’t live without their hair dye. We’ve been told to disinfect every 2 hours. I try to keep up with that along with new directives from corporate. We get so many each day.

Thursday- shipment wasn’t finished yesterday. It still doesn’t get finished today. The store is small. A woman with a lung condition calls about 3 times to say she’s coming in and will be wearing a a mask so don’t think she’s contagious (amongst other things I don’t have the patience to type out) No one understands the concept of keeping 6 feet away. Corporate decides today we’re no longer going to take returns or exchanges. Nor will we take cash or checks. Customers continue to be rude and meaner. Everyone acts like having roots is going to kill them. I continue to try and keep order. When we finally close, P goes in back and cries. She can’t take the customers anymore. Neither could I. It was getting to be too much. In the mean time we’ve tried to tell our boss how stressful this whole thing is. She brushes it off. She’s not there so she just doesn’t get it. A customer asked if my skin condition was ringworm. Which was just rude. I end up going home and having a full blown panic attack.

Friday- my last day of work for however long this goes on. People are coming in like we’re having a massive sale. This whole week sales have been through the roof. We’re running out of things. I’ve heard every conspiracy in the book. I’ve been yelled at. I must of answered at least 100 “are you open” phone calls by this point. We finally get our shipment finished. I have to work with new girl again. She doesn’t seem to get the concept of no cash. I didn’t even put money in the drawers so even if someone had cash there would be no change to give, but she still attempts to take cash at least twice. Also had a customer ask for my name and when the manager would be in. Coworker and friend who was in couldn’t figure out why the fuck she’d do that. I only said I couldn’t remember what color she bought last time and that I was sorry. (It’s hard to remember everyone’s)Thankfully it was the last day for me.

Saturday- my boss finally decided to go into work herself. Corporate decided that would be the last day we’d be open till at least mid April. I move back into my own house after 4 months (another long stupid totally unrelated story) and silently thank whoever blessed me with not having to go in on Sunday.

All I can say is customers are fucking assholes. Hair dye isn’t essential. And everyone should learn some fucking manners. Oh and my boss is an asshole for making us deal with this shit without her. Everyone please fucking stay home unless it’s an absolute necessity. You’ll live without your makeup and nail polish remover. Fuck customers and fuck corporate. You all suck!

Anyways sorry if this is too long, I just had a lot to get off my chest. Thank you to the actual essential workers out there doing their job so we can stay safe and healthy!

#fuck retail #fuck co-workers #fuck managers #fuck coworkers #fuck customers #submission

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crimefightingpigeons · 4 years ago

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I’ve shared my head canon on how we go from Doomsday to Turn Left - your turn! What do you think happens?? - @loupettes

OK I’ve got no excuse for why this took me so long (other than complete lack of productive brain cells) but heyyy look part 3 is here! And hopefully it was worth the wait??? Anyone wanna place bets as to how long part 4 will take haha? I PROMISE it will happen though because I’m determined to finally finish this fic.

part 1 | part 2

A Brief Guide to Love and Defending the Universe

After a thorough talking to about her reckless actions and a mandated night of sleep (which everyone took advantage of), the team got right back to work with a lot more luck. Apparently the fractures just hadn’t been wide enough to travel through before, and now they were. For the most part, they took this as an absolute blessing and tried their best to ignore its solemn reminder that they only had so much time left.

For efficiency, both Rose and Mickey took on travelling through the cannon while Pete remained on base to keep track of the two. Plus, connecting Rose’s old phone to the mainframe, they had found a way to call the TARDIS’s number to every universe it could connect to, hoping at some point the ship’s owner might just pick up. On a good day, between the three of them, they could reach upwards of a hundred different worlds.

As powerful as the cannon was, though, nothing came as easy as they would have liked. For one thing, there was no way of knowing how close or far they were to their old universe, no way of knowing from this side of any crack where the Doctor was. It was a setback, but not a surprising one. What was even more frustrating, though, was the recharge time needed between jumps.

Most of the time it was extremely horrible just being stuck. All they had to do upon landing was a universal scan for TARDIS tech, wait a few seconds for a negative answer, and then… wait. Maybe if their own world wasn’t collapsing in on itself every day it might have been easier to enjoy, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case and each passing minute of not being able to do anything useful was quite stressful. And that wasn’t even accounting for the added trouble they’d face when they happened to be dropped right in the middle of an unwanted fight or war zone.

Other times, though, it could truthfully be amazing. Sure the entire multiverse was in a constant state of trouble, but sometimes it was nice to land somewhere that just needed a bit of help. Taking down local authoritarian regiments, solving mysterious disappearances, assisting on small scale alien invasions and such. It was just nice to help and feel properly useful. And sometimes it was these small victories that were just enough to get them to continue on through the next day.

Occasionally, though, very rarely, there would be an unexpected surprise waiting for them.

The first time it happened was to Rose. She had been running off from some strange alien hunting her, and just as she found a safe place to hide, there it was: the TARDIS. Her heart stopped and she didn’t believe her eyes. It didn’t make sense… the scanner said he wasn’t here… It wasn’t possible… Her mind was racing frantically, and then the door of the ship opened and… a blonde man with a piece of lettuce attached to his lapel stepped out. It was a man Rose recognized instantly from an album the Doctor had shown her. Except that her version of that Doctor had chosen celery as his accessory of choice… It wasn’t him, not her him anyways. Parallel universe, parallel Doctor. But before she could even think of how to react, the alarm telling her to jump back went off and she chose to go.

A few weeks later, Mickey had his own run in with the Doctor. He nearly didn’t believe Rose when she told him and Pete about seeing him, figured it was just her mind playing tricks on her. But then during one of his jumps, he had quite literally ran into a strange young man wearing a bow tie and tweed jacket.

“Oh, sorry there mate—” the man apologized as they both fell to the ground. Then just as the pair locked eyes, “Mickey?” The man’s smile grew and he excitedly jumped up, pulling Mickey up with him, and took him into a tight embrace. “Oh Mickey Smith! I can’t tell you how good it is to see you!”

Mickey just smiled and hugged him right back. “It’s good to see you too, Doctor.” It didn’t take an idiot to figure out exactly who that man was.

Since then, they both had a handful of other run ins with versions of the Doctor either they knew or who knew them. Most of the time it was alright. Mickey always seemed to enjoy the reunions, but Rose usually did her best to avoid them. Sure she wouldn’t mind a glimpse from afar every so often, but it was also difficult being so close yet so far from her own Doctor. And on the occasions she did run into a version of him who had clearly lost her… well, it wasn’t exactly easy to walk away from those situations. So she simply pushed forward, not letting herself get distracted.

But as time continued on, the team was facing more difficult problems than just running into people they didn’t want to see. If there were any stars left in the sky they were impossible to locate on even the clearest of nights, and the world was getting more scared and angry every day. Even Torchwood had been run down, the population blaming them for not doing more. Rose, Mickey, and Pete all felt even happier that they had decided to keep this project on the down low. Doing what they were trying to do was hard enough on its own, and they couldn’t imagine having to do it while putting up with angry protestors striking chaos.

Still, even with that obstacle out of the way, they couldn’t help but lose a little more hope every day. Some days the basement would be made a mess from a frustrated break down, and they believed no other room in any world had hosted so many nightmares or tears. They all knew they had a few weeks left- at the very most. A few weeks to get through enough of the infinite universes out there to find the right one. A few weeks to sort through whatever problem might be waiting for them on the other side. Every day it became harder to imagine finding real success. And as it turned out, inevitable universal destruction partnered with a lack of optimism and massive burnout wasn’t the motivation they had been looking for.

Pete chose to step back a bit to spend some more time with Jackie and Tony. It felt nearly cruel thinking everything he had just gained in the last few years was about to be snatched from him. And maybe it wasn’t responsible, but he was going to spend whatever time he could with his family.

Meanwhile Rose was simply running out of energy to keep going. After years of pushing and overworking herself, she had started taking the tiniest of steps back as doubt and hopelessness ravaged through her mind. Maybe this was as far as they got, she started to tell herself. Maybe she had been right all those years ago. Maybe without the Doctor she really wasn’t anything special. She remembered her young, naïve self. You don’t just give up. You don’t just let things happen. They felt almost like a stranger’s words now.

Of course if anyone knew that wasn’t true it was Mickey Smith, and he was determined to support her however he could. Most of the time this involved taking on some extra work, to let her have a moment of peace whenever she needed. With his gran gone (which truthfully he was thankful she wasn’t around to experience all this), he certainly had the time. And he knew if it had been Rose in his position, she would do the same for him.

Nowadays time seemed to bleed into itself and the gang never knew exactly when it was (they hoped that was just because of all the work they were doing in a windowless basement, and not a side effect from the whole multiverse ending thing). It felt like a very early morning though, at this particular moment. Pete was probably asleep next to Jackie or watching Tony. Rose was taking a nap on the cot in the corner. And Mickey kept working, taking full advantage of that autopilot function he wasn’t as judgemental at Rose for using anymore. As usual, he encountered failure, after failure, after failure. But he kept going, kept persisting, kept—

*beep beep*

Mickey looked down at his scanner on a planet which seemed to be made entirely of purple rock, a bit startled. His mind went through all the possibilities of what that sound could mean. Low battery? Interference? Surely it couldn’t have been…

But it was! The scanner had received a signal from the TARDIS. Their actual, real TARDIS.

A purely joyful grin spread over Mickey’s face and tears started welling in his eyes. He didn’t know which galaxy, which planet he was on. He didn’t know where Earth was, or wherever the Doctor happened to be at this moment. He didn’t know when he happened to land, 50 years in the past or 2000 years in the future. But none of that was important. Instead he chose to break out into a mad happy dance, hoping in the back of his mind that no alien was around to see him make a fool of himself.

After wearing himself out, Mickey couldn’t help but want to jump back. But then he remembered he still had to wait for his device to repower.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath. 25 minutes to go until he could jump, 25 excruciatingly impossible long minutes.

Finally though, after what really did feel like an eternity, Mickey’s alarm went off and not even a whole second later he jumped back. Once his feet hit the platform in the basement, he looked up to find a still sleeping Rose, prompting his grin to reappear.

“Rose, Rose!” he started calling her name as he stumble-ran towards her. Then crouching down by her side and shaking her, “Rose, wake up!”

“Mmm… wha’ is’t?” Rose shot up, but her mind was still caught in a sleepy haze. Mickey didn’t have the patience to wait for her to finish waking up, though, and started pulling her along.

“Got somethin’ to show you, come on now. Here, take this,” he handed Rose his jump button and helped her onto the platform. Then, running back to the console, he paused for a second to carefully adjust the coordinates and recalibrate the cannon.

“Mickey what’s going on?” Rose asked again, now awake but still completely confused.

Mickey smiled at her once again. “See for yourself, in 3, 2…” and he sent her off.

“Mickey!” Rose tried shouting again, but it was too late. And before she knew it she was thrown into the street of another world. A world which looked a lot like London, Earth at night. Which maybe it was, but surely it wasn’t their old London. Rose wandered down the road a bit, enjoying the wind on her face as much as possible and wondering what Mickey could have possibly wanted her to have seen… then she saw a gathering crowd around the corner. Her attention piqued and she continued on towards it. There was a big building- a corporate office of some sort or another- surrounded by emergency services of every kind. She was in the middle of wondering what could have possibly happened when a red headed woman came up behind her.

“Listen, there’s this woman that’s going to come along. A tall blonde woman called Sylvia. Tell her that bin there, alright? It’ll all make sense. That bin there.”

Rose could tell something good just happened to this woman by her smile alone. For a moment she remembered when she smiled like that, and the one person who could always effortlessly pull it from her. But she pushed it out of her head. She almost wanted to warn that other woman to hold off on her joy, too. If only she knew what was just around the corner for them all. Rose was sure she wouldn’t have such a reason to be celebrating.

With a sigh, Rose decided to walk away. Whatever Mickey had found so interesting about this event had either passed or simply wasn’t getting her attention like it might have any other time. And frankly she wasn’t too invested in helping that Sylvia woman- or whatever her name was- find a bin. So she went off into the dark street, hoping to clear her mind.

But then… something strange started happening. Rose was still walking down the street, but the ground beneath her started to disappear and the world around seemed to fuzz in and out just slightly and there was a weird static-y feeling around her-

And then everything was back to normal. She was back on the same street. At night. With a giant web star in the sky-

Rose’s head jolted back up to notice the very interesting thing that had certainly not been there just a few moments ago. ‘What the hell is going on?’ she thought. But before she could think of any sort of reasonable answer, she saw missiles being launched at whatever it was floating overhead, blowing it up.

On pure instinct, Rose started sprinting towards the source of the shooting. The whole time wondering- praying- that somehow all of this meant exactly what she was hoping it meant. That he was here. Maybe the Doctor had somehow gotten wind of their interdimensional jumping, maybe the TARDIS had picked up on it and alerted him! Maybe that weird moment she had experienced just a moment ago had been the Doctor pulling her back to him! With each breath and dash forward she had to forcefully restrict every ounce of hope in her body from seeping through.

Finally, Rose arrived at the scene. It appeared things had calmed down a bit, but there were still emergency vehicles and men and women in camo uniforms and red berets all around.

“What happened, what did they find?,” she slowed down as she got close to the barriers. There was a woman- a red headed woman. Rose turned to her. “Sorry, but… Did they find someone?”

“I don’t know. Bloke called the Doctor or something.”

“Where is he?”

“They took him away, he’s dead.”

Rose froze. Any thoughts running through her mind just a second ago disappeared and her body filled with a heavy numbness. She could hear the woman still going on behind her, but didn’t register a single word of it.

“…I came so far,” she breathed out.

Finally, though, Rose forced herself back to reality. Her worst fear may have been coming true, but that didn’t stop the rest of the multiverse from imminent destruction. And there was something weird about this world, something off… and something familiar about the voice talking to her. Rose turned around and for the first time since running into her, got an actually good look at who she was talking to. This woman wasn’t just any ordinary woman. It was the same woman who had told her about that bin just a few minutes ago in that crowded street. Something weird was definitely going on. A dead Doctor, this woman showing up twice… with something very odd on her back unlike before…?

“What’s your name?”

“Donna. And you?”

“I’m just… passing by… I shouldn’t even be here. This is wrong. This is so wrong,” she rambled on, more and more of her focus being diverted to whatever was on this woman’s back. “What was it, sorry? Donna what?”

“Why d’you keep looking at my back?”

Rose snapped her eyes away to look anywhere else. The last thing she needed to do was upset the woman who might be able to give her some answers. “I’m not.”

“Yes you are. You keep looking behind me, you’re doing it now. What is it, what’s there? Did someone….”

But before Donna could finish her sentence and before Rose had any more time to investigate, the world around her started to fuzz back out. And she was gone.

#sorry if its a tad messy #you all know that feeling when you're writing an essay for class and you just get so tired of working on it #that eventually you just say fuck it and send it in for what it is?#basically me rn #ive been spending a couple weeks editing and am still not 100% pleased but I have to say fuck it now or I'll never post it haha #so like its not MESSY messy... just not as completely perfect as I stress myself to make it #but I think thats ok #also just figured out how to do the break line so TA DA!#also I completely forgot I had a legit Tumblr page that isn't just my mobile layout #I mean it sucks cuz I think I put like 2 seconds of effort into it before giving up like 6 years ago but still #anyhowwwwwww #hope you all enjoy!#a brief guide to love and defending the universe #part 3/4 #original fic #rose tyler #mickey smith #Pete tyler #tenxrose #doctor who #dw

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sleepnginstardust · 4 years ago

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Orc Boyfriend (Torug) (Chapter 3/??)

I am so sorry it has taken me this long. Besides from Animal Crossing coming and eating all of my free time. My grandmother passed away earlier this month. needless to say it has been a chaotic couple of months. Thank you for your patience!

“Sooooo the hot piece of Orc ass, does he have a name?” Jhorrel bit into one of the eclairs Diana had grabbed from Elora. Fidgeting, Diana looked down at her hands and the small glass of wine in her hands.

“Seriously Diana, I’m hurt that Jhorrel found out before me. I’ve known you longer!” Brie was glaring at Diana, who was ladling our pasta onto plates. Brie looked down at the plate of pasta that Diana had handed her like it had stabbed her cat. “You’re not getting out of this Dee. Would it have killed you to pick up your damn phone and text me?”

“This just happened Brie! I’ve had maybe two days to compute! Holy hell.” Jhorrel scoffed at that and poured the decanted wine for himself. He hefted it to Brie who just waved it away. Picking up her pasta Diana stabbed her fork into the dish and started eating. Having Brie hold this against her stung. She thought out of the two that Brie would have cared the least.

“How do you know that he isn’t planning something? You know, like Darren before.” Diana looked up, but it was the plate dropping onto wood that caught her attention. Looking over towards the sound, she saw Jhorrel looking livid.

“I told you too, drop it.” He growled at Brie. Who sneered.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your judgment Jhorrel, but after what happened with that dick I have to be careful. Hell Diana should be careful.” That comment stung, Diana had been careful when it came to Darren. She had vetted him with other people that had known him and double checked with Jhorrel to see whether he had alternative motives. But in the end Darren had fooled even Jhorrel who had supernatural abilities when it came to finding liars.

“Again Brianna, like I’ve told you before he had good intentions in the beginning.”

“Oh yes, so good in fact that Diana almost wound up homeless. In fact she was homeless. For months!!” Diana could feel a headache coming on.

Being careful with her wine glass she placed it down on the counter and quietly moved to her room. As she closed the door behind her, she heard Jhorrel and Brie getting louder. She looked over to her window and had an idea. She grabbed a sweater and opened the window, looking at the fire escape she slipped on a pair of flats she had next to her bed. Then she went out the window.

As she climbed down from the second floor, Jhorrel and Brie really started yelling. Jumping the three feet from the ground Diana gave a small ouff. She dusted herself off and headed towards Elora's store. Diana wished she had closed the window. You could now hear the fight from the ground. She felt the concrete through her thin flats as she walked down the street. She thought about what Erica had told and how Banko had protected her.

Thinking back to Darren reminded her of how earnest Darren had been at first. The way he had just come in a swept diana off her feet. How charming it had been when she met his friends how he had insisted that even though his company was buying up plots in the neighborhood next door that he had no intentions to do the same to her “charming” neighborhood. Diana sighed, and looked around. She realized that she was a lot farther than where she had been aiming for. She walked a little farther to the cross street and read Oak Street. She had gone a mile from where she had been wanting to go. Reaching into her pocket she realized that she had left her phone on the counter with her glass of wine.

“Diana?” Looking up she saw Banko. “Out for a stroll?

“Ah hahahaha, funny story. My friends are having a little conversation. One that I decided they could have by themselves.” The Onikuma snorted, he shifted the bags he was holding. Diana’s stomach gave a loud growl. Diana gave a small smile.

“Didn’t even get to eat the pasta you made huh? Well follow me, I’ve got sushi and I may have bought enough to feed three of me.” He guffawed, and started walking away from Diana. She followed behind him. As they turned down Whistler avenue Diana’s stomach gave another growl. “Ha! Your stomach growls more than mine does when I’m hungry! Don’t worry we’re almost there.”

As they walked farther along Banko turned down a small street. Diana saw cute Victorian style houses along the street and realized that they had gone down one of the small residential streets that were in the neighborhood. Banko slowed down at a two story sort of run down Victorian. The paint was peeling on the walls and she could tell they were in the middle of redoing the roof. Weeds were in between the cracked concrete walkway and some overgrown rose bushes lined the front of the house.

“Erica inherited it from a relative, which was a blessing in disguise for us. After what happened in her old town I didn’t have a lot of money saved up. Torug wanted to help but I was too stubborn. So now with what little we have we’re repairing and remodeling! Starting with the roof! According to your Elora we gotta work quickly, the rainy season starts up soon.” Diana hadn’t realized she had been staring. Banko had a proud smile on his face.

“Oh yeah, next month or so. If you need help let me know. Jhorrel knows a lot of contractors who can help and probably give you a discount.” Diana was on autopilot and felt it. Jhorrel would actually know how to help better, and if any of the contractors heard about Erica and Bankos story, they’d work for free so long as the two of them paid for the stuff to fix the roof. As Diana’s thoughts glazed over the light flicked on the porch.

“Banko hurry your fat ass up- Oh. Diana I thought- uh hi.” Looking up Diana saw Torug and Erica who gave her a small wave. Diana gave a wave back to Erica, who smiled.

“Oh wow, I am so sorry for being late. But good news is I found a stray! Diana was wandering around a couple blocks back so I brought her along!” Erica shoved Torug to the side and walked up to Banko. Kissing him, she grabbed one of the bags and Diana’s hand dragging her into the house. Torug reached out to Diana but before he could touch her, Banko grabbed Torug by the shoulder. Diana tried to listen to what Banko would say to Torug but Erica dragged her into the house before Banko could say anything.

“What happened to girls night? You seemed to be looking forward to that?” Diana blinked a few times and looked at Erica. She was looking back with a concerned expression.

“Ah, I forgot how intense one of my friends can be, and she took offense at me not telling her about what's been going with Torug. I mean she was the one who helped me when Darren kicked me out of my store. Her and her mothers also helped me get back my store after my old landlord passed away.” hearing a thunk Diana looked over to Erica who had loudly placed a stack of plates on the counter.

“Wait what do you mean, ‘Darren kicked you out of your store?’ I thought you owned that building?” Diana sighed and shrugged.

“I didn’t always own the building I started out renting from an old Dryad named Rosalie, she was the sweetest woman that I knew next to Elora. I had been dating this real estate broker named Darren, and when Rosalie and I redid the lease Darren asked if I needed a cosign for it. It was only going to be for a year while I saved up, and with him signing on it was going to be even cheaper than if it had been just me signing.” Diana took a breath.

“Well it worked out for the first couple of months, then my mom passed away and I had to go home to help with that sort of thing. I came back a month later and Darren had changed the locks. He had already pushed forward his “Idea” of buying the land and turning it into a high rise. He had been talking to a few other building owners and purchased the building on the right side. He had already torn down the building and was trying to get the Dryad to sell to him.” Diana stopped to catch her breath, seeing how pale Erica had gone Diana grew worried. “Are you okay? You’re really pale.”

“I’m fine, just gotta kick something. Keep going, I think I have a feeling where this is going to go.” Erica pulled a glass down and filled it with water from the fridge. She sat down looking at Diana. Diana looked down.

“Anyway, he had donated most of my things because he ‘assumed I was going to stay at my mothers home’ and that I had ‘no need for some the stupid things’ I had. Thankfully Brie had gotten wind of what was going on. She got to the donation center and saved most of my sentimental things like the bedroom set from my great grandmother. Mom used to joke it was strong enough to hold two orcs. Brie wasn’t able to save everything though.” Diana gave a small sigh.

“ I still have no idea what happened to my great grandmother's dining room set, the family dish ware, and the family silver. Anyway after I came back I tried getting back into the apartment above my store at least. But like I said Darren had changed the locks without telling Rosalie. She called a locksmith out but Darren had called the police, he had quite a few friends on the force. They came with a cease and desist letter for Rosalie and then served me with papers. He was trying to get back the ‘back rent’ I ‘owed him’. He kept this up for three months, Jhorrel was horrified because he was the one who introduced us. Finally Rosalie gave up and behind Darren's back sold me the building. Brie contacted her mothers and they gave me the money as a gift. Jhorrel had Darren’s case against me thrown out with the help of his sister, and I served him his 30 day notice to get out. He tried to use his friends on the force to scare me, but with Jhorrel, his sister, Brie and her mothers. They didn’t get very far. Last I heard the police officers had been fired.”

“Wait who’s Jhorrel’s sister and Brie’s mother? Mothers?” Diana looked up at Erica who’s glass of water was hanging limply in her hand. Diana grabbed the glass and set it on the table.

“Jhorrel’s sister is Sararis, she goes by Sara. She's the chief federal prosecutor for the area. Brie’s a Valkyrie, her mom’s are head of the top two hospitals around here. I stayed in one of their townhouses when all of this was going down.” Erica was looking at Diana with her mouth open.

“Where is he now?” Diana jumped a bit knocking over the glass she turned to see Torug and Banko in the doorway. Torug moved forward with a look that scared Diana a little. Banko wasn’t looking much better. His fur was on end and he kept flexing his claws.

“He’s gone! and has been for at least a year. So it’s not a problem anymore. I promise!” Torug came closer and swept Diana into a hug. His arms wrapped around Diana and gave her a reassurance that Diana didn’t think she would get from a hug. She realized her feet weren’t touching the ground.

“God dammit that’s horrible. I can promise I’ll never treat you like that.” Diana felt Torugs chin on the top of her head. Diana leaned in just a little bit more and relaxed. Then her stomach growled.

“Dammit put her down, our sushi is just sitting here, and she sounds like she’s starving! Diana, have you called anyone yet?” Diana wiggled a little bit and poked Torug. He set her down, and she took a breath.

“Oh shoot, I forgot. Am I able to borrow someone’s phone? I left mine at home.” Erica reached into her pocket and handed Diana her phone. Diana dialed Jhorrel’s number, hit speaker phone and waited.

“Jhorrel Gusion, high end real estate and business leasings. May I take a message? I'm in the middle of a family emergency.” Diana snickered. She could hear Jhorrel panting.

“Jhorrel, have you been running? You never run.” Diana ripped the phone as far away from her as Jhorrel gave an inhumanly loud screech. Banko’s ear twitched backwards in pain and Torug winced. Carefully pulling the phone back, she caught the end of Jhorrel’s sentence.

“- everywhere! Sara’s on the phone with her security team!”

“NO! I’m fine! Sara doesn’t need to call her goon squad!” Diana started panicking. “I’m with Torug having dinner!” This stopped Jhorrel for a hot moment.

“Diana, I know it’s been a while and with everything going on you haven’t had time for yourself, but are you honestly going to jump into bed with an orc you’ve known for three days? If so, well okay then but honestly I would have helped you. It would have killed two birds with one stone actually.” Diana had gone redder than a tomato. She caught Erica’s eyes and Erica dashed into the other room to laugh.

“Jhorrel, you're on speaker phone.” The line went dead. Looking at the phone she saw Jhorrel had hung up. Looking up she saw Torug watching her. He gave her a smirk that made her go even redder.

“You know, I do have food at my place.” Torug smirk grew into a smile as Diana felt something. She wasn’t sure if it was nauseousness from lack of food or something else. She was about to reply when her stomach growled again. Banko slapped Torug on the back.

“We have enough food for six people Torug, let the girl eat here first before you eat her.” Torug shrugged and held out his hand. Diana, a little wary, took hold of it. As Torug led her out of the kitchen and into the other room, he turned around.

“If you’re dead set on us eating here then you can bring the food into the living room.” Banko gave a big laugh and shooed them away. Diana let herself be led into the living room. “Maybe we can have desert at my place”

#orc boyfriend #orcs #My writing

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thevintagebluebird · 4 years ago

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Unpinned - French Onion Chicken

Welcome back, my lovelies! Since we last met the entire world has turned upside-down. Everything has changed! Holding hands is from the BEFORETIME. Being in other people’s houses is from the BEFORETIME. Restaurants are from the BEFORETIME. I could go on and on about the darkest timeline we find ourselves in, but after losing all sense of self and purpose in this nightmare reality, one thing has become clear: we still gotta eat. On a recent Zoom call with dear friends (the bizarre irony of how we’d never met face to face until a pandemic was not lost on me) I was reminded of this blog. Bless their hearts, they had kind words to say about my ramblings. So I thought WHAT THE HECK, IT’S NOT LIKE I DON’T HAVE THE TIME! (Ha, time and any semblance of meaning are *also* from the BEFORETIME) so here we are. I cooked a thing and now I’ll tell you about it.

French Onion Chicken! From the folks who make those cute facebook cooking videos, Delish! I guess they have a magazine too. I get a little suspicious of any publication that claims the majority of their recipes are ‘TEH BEST EVAR’, but after this dish I could be convinced.

Verdict: Is the Pintrest photo complete bullshit? - I’ll let you be the judge when you see the photo of my finished product, but I’m going to quietly sit over in the corner nodding furiously in the meantime.

Is it crazy expensive/time consuming/confusing? - The only pricey ingredient was a block of gruyere, and it was worth every single penny! It took about 45/50 minutes from start to finish but time is a cruel joke anyway so who cares? It was pretty straightforward and easy!

Does it taste good? - YES. MAKE IT.

French Onion Chicken

Ingredients

3 tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil, divided

1 large onion, halved and thinly sliced

2 tsp. freshly chopped thyme

Kosher salt

Freshly ground black pepper

2 cloves garlic, minced

1 3/4 lb. boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1" pieces

1/2 tsp. dried oregano

2 tbsp. all-purpose flour

1 1/2 c. low-sodium beef broth

1 c.shredded Gruyère

Freshly chopped parsley, for garnish (optional)

Preparation

In a large skillet over medium heat, heat 2 tablespoons oil. Add onions and season with salt, pepper, and thyme. Reduce heat to medium-low and cook, stirring occasionally until onions are caramelized and jammy, about 25 minutes. Stir in garlic and cook until fragrant, 1 minute more. Turn off heat and remove onion mixture. Wipe skillet clean.

In a large bowl, season chicken with salt, pepper and oregano, then toss with flour. Heat remaining oil in same skillet over medium-high heat. Add chicken and cook until golden on all sides and mostly cooked through, about 8 minutes.

Add beef broth and return caramelized onions to skillet. Bring mixture to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer until chicken is cooked through and beef broth reduces slightly, about 10 more minutes.

Add Gruyère and cover skillet with a lid. Cook until cheese is melty, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and garnish with parsley before serving.

Here’s what you need! You’ll notice a small pile of leaves at the front and may wonder why I’ve thrown foliage onto my counter. Long story short: Allan’s lovely Aunt Kathi and Uncle Eli gave us bags of fresh herbs from their garden, and we’ve been making such fancy herby dishes! These are the last fresh sage leaves; I know the recipe calls for thyme but we’ve got sage so now the recipe calls for sage.

First thing’s first: oil up your trusty cast iron. You’ll notice that it looks like I’ve smeared dark gritty mud along the bottom of mine, and that is because I am a lazy no-good cast iron owner who does not properly season her pan. It’s frankly a disgrace. I will pay someone to fix it for me.

Slice yer onions! Somehow this giant beast didn’t even make me tear up!

At this point the meal could be done and I’d be pretty happy - who doesn’t love a pan of hot onions? They started to smell tasty, which was great ‘cause our apartment has lately had a weird smell of old meat, which is EXTRA concerning because we haven’t cooked any meat at all this week. Why does it smell like meat.

IT APPEARS WE’RE OUT OF THYME. AHAHAHA AREN’T WE ALL? Sorry guys, I’m realizing now that this cooking experiment was also a litmus test of my current five-months-into-lockdown mental state. Clearly I’m fine. Also we had sage so it was all good.

Sage-y onions. The kitchen was smelling very, very good.

I really had to trust the recipe on this one and let the onions cook for the full 20+ minute time even though I was oddly anxious they would burn. I ended up turning the heat down to low when I started to see a lot of crisping. To distract myself, I started chopping the chicken breast into cubes. They were meant to be about 1″ x 1″ x 1″ but most of them came out more like .5″ x 6″ x 2.89″.

My patience paid off! The onions, looking quite “jammy” and caramelized! I kept wondering what “jammy” would look like but I think it’s just a fancy way of saying “sticky and mushy”. Adding my scoop of jar-garlic because even in lockdown I don’t have time to mince fresh garlic.

This bit was a little tricky: it called for two tablespoons of flour to “coat” the chicken but I wasn’t sure how such a tiny amount of flour was going to “coat” jack squat. So here’s the heavily-seasoned chicken on the cutting board, and my tentative first attempt at adding flour.

It just sort of made the pile of raw chicken into a slightly more-beige, stickier pile of raw chicken. I was unconvinced.

Ok I got them in the pan to start cooking and it looks vaguely like normal chicken? Now my instinct is to cook the shit out of chicken until it’s just little shreds of carbon to avoid salmonella, but I see that the recipe says that to let it finish cooking once we add/boil the liquid, so against my better judgement I just cooked them “medium rare” and moved on.

It called for a cup of shredded cheese but I just shredded the whole block because honestly when in history has a dish ever been ruined by too much cheese? (Spoiler: never)

Oh wow! It looked so good when I added the stock and onions back in! We used mushroom stock ‘cause we’re trying to minimize our beef consumption and also mushrooms are delicious.

BUT THEN IT TURNED INTO THIS WATERY MESS WHEN I ADDED AND STEAMED THE CHEESE!

This is not staged, this is 100% exactly the face I was making as I saw what my end result was looking like. It was definitely straight-up soup, and no thickening instructions in sight.

So I harkened back to my years of training as Thanksgiving sous-chef with my grandma! Whip out your trusty cornstarch and turn that soupy frown upside down!

Take out your commemorative New Milford mug (whoot whoot hometown pride oh god I miss traveling across state borders) and make a cornstarch slurry. Starts as cement-like glue-chunks, add drops of water and keep scraping until it becomes an opaque liquid.

So here’s how it looked immediately after adding the ~1.5 tbsp cornstarch slurry and then after a good stir and extra minute on the heat. No more soup!

And finally plated: atop some brown rice (cooked with homemade chicken stock) and little zucchini pizza bites (made from one of the monster zucchini from my garden).

Final final verdict: It really did NOT look like the Pintrest photo, but to be fair I did skip the (apparently essential) step of adding fresh parsley - between you and me I’m pretty sure they hit it with a blow torch to get that nice crispy top. BUT! This was actually DELICIOUS. Like, really really good. The chicken was moist, the cheese flavor was sublime, the onions were jammy to the extreme: I’m definitely going to make this again!

#unpinned cooking pintrest pintrestfail

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lurafita · 5 years ago

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Peter/Avengers, dub/con, captivity, Part three

TAGGING PEOPLE DIDN’T WORK! I don’t know why, but everytime I tried tagging someone, tumblr suddenly redirected me to their blog, instead of just writing down the name. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what the issue is. I have got in contact with support and am awaiting their answer, but until then, I hope you were still able to find this part! Again, so sorry!

Read Part 1: here

Read Part 2: here

People, heed the tags for upcoming parts in this story.

kidnapping, dub/con, captivity, chains, bondage, obsessive Avengers, Peter/Everyone, darkly soft Avengers (in the sense that they hold Peter captive, but only want to love and protect him), non-powered Peter, dark-ish Avengers, 18+ Peter, Clint is not married and has no kids, Tony is not in a relationship with Pepper.

(I feel like a cheat for tagging these things, even though I still haven’t gotten to the juicy bits in this fic...)

Part 3

Peter had long since retired, when the others gathered in the common floors living room, to further discuss the bomb the younger man had dropped on them mere hours ago.

Clint was waving his phone around wildly. “Australia is the most poisonous continent in the world! There are frogs that can kill you! Frogs!”

Bruce was frowning deeply. “The climate is drastically different there. Neither his body, nor his immune system will easily adapt. Petey could develop numerous illnesses because of that.”

Sam was likewise shaking his head. “Pumpkin doesn't have the physicality for weeks long hiking in the jungle. He may be good at parkour, but that is still miles away from the terrain that will await him in the underbrush.”

Steve made a sound like a wounded animal. “Don't remind me of that particular hobby of his, please. I still have nightmares from that video he showed us.”

Tony threw back his scotch. “Six months. Possibly longer. Sweetheart shouldn't be away from us for such a long time. Shouldn't be away at all.”

Bucky was pacing, the Winter Soldier clawing at his very being. “There isn't enough Intel. We don't know the people that would be part of his group. Don't know the terrain. Can't predict the conditions. Can't entrust Doll to strangers. Not safe.”

Natasha was stoically silent, though her face was stormy.

Thor looked contemplative. “...Then maybe we shouldn't let him go.”

The others stilled, all looking at the Asgardian.

“Hate to break it to you, L'Oreal, but I already tried bribing the University's board, in order to make them reject Stoddard's little excursion. No dice. Figures Peter would attend the one university in this stupid city that holds academic achievements in a higher regard than funding.”

A snort of pure disgust left the billionaires mouth, as he stood up to refill his glass.

But Thor shook his head. “I'm not saying to not let other people embark on this quest. I'm saying not to let Peter go.”

Steve wrung his hands. “We can't exactly keep him from going...”

Thor raised a challenging eyebrow. “Why not? He is a lovely creature, but he is not blessed with strength and battle prowess like the rest of us are. I imagine it would be quite easy to keep him here.”

The others looked around them uncomfortably.

“It's not that we wouldn't be capable of keeping him here, Thor, so much as that we... shouldn't...do something like this.” Sam awkwardly rubbed his neck.

“... Why shouldn't we?” But this time the question didn't come from Thor, but from Bucky.

Nervously wiping his hands over his thighs, Bruce tried to give reason to his words, while the Hulk was roaring in agreement with the Winter Soldier.

“It's... We can't... Peter isn't a child. Or a pet. … We have no right to just... keep him.”

Natasha spoke for the first time, her voice even.

“Don't we? Haven't we taken him in? Haven't we taken care of him for the last year? Aren't we the ones most responsible for his safety and well being? You just counted off all the dangers awaiting Lastashka if he joins this excursion. It's not safe. And he is ours to protect.”

Tony slowly set down his glass, eyes going back and forth during his inner debate.

“It's not like we would be doing something bad... He needs us. He can barely remember to feed himself.”

Clint gave him a sardonic look for that.

“Yeah, I'm not gonna comment on how very hypocritical that is coming from you. But you are right. Last week he almost fainted, because he wanted to finish his thesis, and didn't sleep for two days straight.”

Tony's head shot up at this.

“What? Why didn't I know about this? Friday? I thought I told you to keep an eye on my Sweetheart's sleeping schedule.”

“Peter asked me not to inform you of this, when I attempted to get him to sleep. He said it wouldn’t be a regular occurrence, and that after he finished with his work, he wouldn't have to neglect his rest so severely again. Since you yourself have abstained from sleep on far more occasions, I promised Peter discretion on the matter.”

Dammit!

Clint simply pointed to him.

“See? Hypocrite. But this just helps to prove the fact that Pete isn't very good at taking care of himself. And we can't leave him to a bunch of nerdy strangers. Nat is right. He is ours to protect.”

Bucky nodded along with this reasoning, as Sam pursed his lips.

“It's not like there is any guarantee that this plant this professor is looking for will really cure the disease, right? It's not worth it for Pumpkin to risk his health, possibly even his life, on a fools errand.”

Bruce couldn't ignore the words of his friends,and the desires of himself and the Hulk, any longer.

“I have been on such fruitless excursions during my time in university. I remember the hopeful anticipation in the beginning. And the crushing devastation when we came back empty handed. I would like to spare Petey such an experience.”

Steve held up his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, guys. You aren't seriously considering,- what? Kidnapping Peter? Keeping him locked up here with us?”

Bucky spoke before anyone else could.

“He would be safe here. We can protect him. Care for him. Love him.”

Natasha nodded.

“We won't hurt him. He won't understand or like it, at first. But he will come around.”

Tony carefully chimed in.

“It will take some time. Patience. Affection. But... since everyone will be thinking he is gonna be in the depths of the Australian underbrush for at least half a year...”

Clint was already a step ahead.

“The Tower is listed as Peter's official address, and Tony and Bruce as the overseers of his internship. It wouldn't be suspicious if one of them called the university the day of the groups departure, to report that Peter can't make it due to sudden injury or illness.”

Sam hopped right on.

“They will want to catch a very early flight, won't they? It's a bit of a trip to another continent. We could throw a little 'Good-bye' party for Pete. Invite his friends and aunt. Tell everyone one of us would drive him to the airport the next morning...”

A thoughtful crease appeared between Bruce's eyebrows.

“The professors usually tell the students and volunteers in their group to leave things like their cellphones at home. There is rarely opportunity to charge the battery, and if you are deep in the jungle, there is no reception anyway. So no one would be expecting to hear from him before the excursion team gets back. By that time,... surely Petey won't want to leave us again.”

Steve took a step forward.

“Okay, stop. Do you realize what you are talking about? We can't do this.”

“Don't you love him?” Thor's usually booming voice was quite, almost a whisper.

Steve nodded. “Of course I do. But-”

“Don't you wish to protect him? To know that he is safe?” Sam added.

“I do. But that doesn't mean-”

“Haven't things been so much better since he came to live with us? We have all been more careful during missions, taking less risks, causing less damage, because we know Peter is here, waiting for us to come back.” Clint threw in.

“I-”

“Peter was underweight when he started living here, you know? He got some acid on his shirt, and had to change out of it. I could count his ribs back then. His clothes don't look like they are his two heads taller brother’s hand-me-downs any longer, because we have made sure that he eats regularly. Do you think anyone else will do that for him in Australia?” Bruce asked.

“They.. no, they probably wouldn't..”

“You have been drawing more, since Peter found some of your older sketches. It has helped you relax. Been a way for you to deal with the things we have been through. I know half of your sketchbook is full of drawings of him. Do you really think you can go back to before? Capture other motifs on paper? Be without your muse for six whole months, and possibly longer?” Bucky implored.

“I didn't think of that.... I... I couldn't...”

“When I was a child, I have never been allowed to want something. We were weapons, there was no room for wishes. I have gotten to experience friendship and trust since then, and maybe it is selfish to ask for more. But I want more, Steve. I want Peter. I want him to be here with us, not somewhere in some jungle that might take him from us. My trainers kept me from wanting then, will this world's ideal of morality still keep me from wanting now?” She looked at him with eyes fuller of emotion than they had ever been.

“Natasha, I... no, of course you are allowed to want-”

“I don't care if I'm being selfish. We are heroes, Steve. Earth's mightiest defenders, isn't that what they call us? We go out there and fight everyone's enemies. People are safe because of us. But I will tell you right now, the only reason I have been able to sleep through a whole night recently, is Peter. I have seen so much shit in my life, Steve. Before the Avengers were ever formed, and then even more after we got this little superhero boy-band together. I used to tinker in my lab for days on end, because I knew that at one point my body would shut down on its own, and I would get the sleep I needed, with only the minimum of all the delightful nightmares my ptsd ridden brain could come up with. But ever since Peter has been here, it's better. I go to bed thinking about the way his eyes light up, whenever I show him a new upgrade for a current project, instead of the wide open eyes of the dead child we were too late to safe. I'm able to sleep dreaming about the noises he would make, if I bit the nape of his neck just so, instead of recalling flying a nuke through a portal and falling to what was supposed to be my death. Don't try to tell me you haven't had similar experiences with him. Don't try to lie about this. We deserve to be selfish with the person we love.”

“I, I know, Tony. I'm not saying that I don't understand...” The protest was feeble, weak. Steve was already more than halfway convinced.

“In Asgard, Peter would be called a 'Melmir'. A gift. Something to be kept to ourselves and safe at all cost.” Thor had stood, stepping closer to his friend.

“Peter isn't a thing.”

“I did not mean to imply such. A treasure needs not be an object to be called precious. Peter is precious, is he not?”

Steve looked determinedly into the eyes of his taller friend.

“He is.”

Then the super soldier looked at his teammates around him. His friends. And he saw his own feelings reflected in their eyes.

“And he is ours.”

______________________________________________________________

Read Part 4: here

Yeah, so this part was supposed to dive right into the chains and captivity and other stuff that I promised, but then I got caught up in the dialouge and, well....

I do hope you still liked it though. I will try to be faster with the next part.

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ladynuwanda · 6 years ago

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The End of the World as We Know It - Part 1 (Michael LangdonXFemale Reader AU)

A/N: This is my first attempt at an AU, so I’m still a little unsure. But I liked it because it’s very different from everything I’ve ever done, and I wanted to get out of my comfort zone. Part 1 is mostly an introduction to this universe, but I hope you can enjoy it!

Warnings: None, I guess. Although there are mentions to some mental health issues that might be triggering for some of us. But that’s exactly why I didn’t ant to go too deep on the subject. It’s there, but I wanted to keep it light.

Word Count: 1,7K

“Do you know why you are here?”

I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help rolling my eyes a little at the question. This wasn’t my first time in a therapist’s office, although it was my first one-on-one session with Doctor Venable. I looked out the window, embarrassed by my own reaction. I knew it was cold outside, but you couldn’t tell it from inside Doctor Venable’s office. It wasn’t exactly cute and cosy, but it was nice enough, with elegant classic furniture. Very tidy, very neat, like Doctor Venable herself. Shades of purple seemed to be a theme in her office, as well as her life. You didn’t have to think much to figure out whose idea it was to make the wristband that carried our name-tags purple.

“I’m sorry for starting out with such an obvious question...”, she smiled with a small chuckle and lowered her eyes, “but I need to know just how far your understanding of the situation goes, if I want to help you.” Those beautiful brown eyes were burning into mine again, behind stylish prescription glasses. She had a gentle way of making you feel comfortable in her presence. The kind of therapist I’d want to be when I had my Psychology major. If I ever did.

“Yes...”, my voice was raspy for lack of use, so I cleared my throat, “I know why I’m here. You’re not gonna ask me to tell you about my mother, are you?”, I gave an awkward half-laugh and regretted my own silly joke almost immediately. My mother was probably the last thing I wanted to talk about now. I knew she was probably heartbroken by what I did, but I just couldn’t deal with it yet. “It’s only our first meeting, I’d rather get to know you better before being introduced to your family...”, she gave me a kind smile. She understood. She knew I wasn’t ready to talk about it. She wasn’t the kind of therapist that would give me a nod of fake understanding and ask me “and how does that make you feel?”, and I was grateful to her for being better than that.

The session was over before I even knew it, and it wasn’t half as bad as I had expected. I was heading back to the “common room” of Hawthorne Hospital, were I was expected to socialise with the other patients. The building had been a boarding school for boys, before being a hospital, so the corridors were wide, lined with tall glass windows. As far as a mental institutions go, I think it could be a lot worse, it wasn’t at all an unpleasant place. As usual, I sat next to Andre. It’s not that he was particularly friendly, in fact he hadn’t had a single interaction with anyone since he got to the hospital. Which made him my new best friend, of course. It’s not like anyone would go into a mental hospital with the intention of making friends, anyway.

But Coco and Gallant were friends. He was suffering from anorexia, and had a real breakdown when his grandmother found out that he was gay and kicked him out of the house. Coco was bulimic, tale as old as time, she started counting calories and grew obsessed with it, you add a pinch of body dysmorphia to it, and here she is. They obviously clicked right away. And they were always around Evie, an elderly patient with some sort of dementia. The poor lady could talk, in colourful details, about the Golden Age of Hollywood for hours, but couldn’t remember what flavour of jell-o she’d had for desert at lunch.

Those three had made a nice little family for themselves in the hospital, and I was happy for them. But I just couldn’t bring myself to follow their lead. I’d rather stay with my non-responsive friend, the only other patient who was around my age. His story was truly heartbreaking. He was the victim of a hate crime, his boyfriend was beaten to death right in front of his eyes, and he was probably gonna be next, if the police hadn’t arrived. After that he’d just closed in on himself, never speaking another word to anyone.

“You know you are supposed to use this time in the common room to make friends, exchange your experiences with your fellow patients...”, Nurse Mallory was standing beside our table, both hands on her hips in a mock scolding stance.

“I was just spending some quality time here with my friend Andre.”, I gave her my most angelic smile and she narrowed her eyes at me.

“Really? From where I was standing it was almost like you were using the poor man as a human shield...”

“It’s actually the other way around, I was the one shielding him... from her.” I shot a glance at Dinah Stevens across the room and Nurse Mallory followed my gaze.

Dinah Stevens was a minor celebrity, kind of a tv personality. She had a talk show on a local channel, or something. Apparently she had dropped her basket when her show was not renewed for another season. It was a full-on meltdown that included aggression against her crew members and a little bit of stalking at the channel’s new attraction, some former teacher named Cordelia. If Dinah Stevens was a regular citizen, she would probably be facing charges and doing some time in jail. Since she was rich, and somewhat famous, she had ended up here instead. Someone on her PR team had come up with the idea of her helping someone from inside the hospital, in order to improve her reputation. And she had adopted poor Andre as her “project”.

“Aren’t you little miss selfless... I guess you deserve a little treat, then.”, she winked and got something really small from the front pocket of her grey uniform and placed the tiny piece of chocolate in my hand.

“Mallory you’re an angel!”, I shoved the chocolate in my mouth and just let it melt on my tongue so it would last longer. Only then I remembered to look at my Andre, wondering if he’d want a bite, but as usual he didn’t even seem to notice I was there, “But, seriously, who else do you want me to make friends with? The Youngsters?”

That’s what we called Tim and Emily, the last two patients in Wing 3 of Hawthorne Hospital, the youngest of us. Tim was one of those perfect straight-A kids, but as he realised he was failing his SATs he had lost himself to substance abuse. Apparently Emily was here for that too, but in her case it was to run away from a messed up childhood. They were obviously in love, and they were absolutely adorable! Specially the way they seemed to think that no one else knew... Everyone pretended it was a secret. Their puppy-love was a beautiful thing to watch. It gave us all hope.

“So instead, you chose to stay here not talking to Andre...”

“And enjoying the magnificent soundtrack of the common room!”

“Tell me about it! Doctor Pfister and Doctor Nutter seem to think it’s relaxing...”

“Yeah but, come on, playing lyrics like ‘calling occupants of interplanetary craft’ in a mental hospital? You gotta admit that’s poor taste!”

“I do, but they own the place... they’re the bosses! Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to tell you...”

Really, bless Mallory for her snuck chocolates and good-hearted gossip! She was the only thing that made me feel slightly normal in this place. She took my mind from my own shame and guilt, and made me believe I could leave this place and live a normal life again. I was looking at her eyes through her thick glasses, waiting for her to serve the new tea.

“There’s a new patient in Wing 3, Doctor Mead’s bringing him in to the common room for the first time today...”, Doctor Mead was responsible for our group activities. She was the one trying to get us all to socialise and share our experiences, always with a new group-dynamics exercise, or just some plain physical exercise. She was very outdoorsy, Doctor Mead. I hated it about her. Although I did like the woman herself and her cheerful disposition.

“And what’s the deal with him?”

“Same as you, apparently...”

“Oh.”

So another failed suicide attempt. I was already feeling some sort of sympathy towards my new companion, before even meeting him. How could I not? He had wanted his life to end so bad, that he had attempted to do it with his own hands. Unsuccessfully. That’s something I could relate with a little too much. As we talked, the Carpenters song ended and the first notes to Patience&Prudence’s Tonight You Belong to Me began to play. I gave Mallory a side glance “Seriously! If you’re not crazy by the time you get in here, you’re definitely going to be by the time you leave...”, she laughed as the doors to the common room opened and we both looked to see who it was.

It was a tall young man, followed by Doctor Mead, walking in sure black Converse-clad steps, wearing a plain black t-shirt and a dark pair of jeans. His long blond hair was tied in a loose knot behind his head, and there were dark circles around his sharp blue eyes. Still he looked around at everyone in the room, like an eagle choosing his pray in mid-flight, both his hands behind his back. All my sympathy for him was gone the moment I saw him, simply because he didn’t seem to need any of that: He was so intimidating, I believe he would have actually been offended by it, he would tell me to shove my sympathy where the sun doesn’t shine. He seemed to be very much in charge of himself, and of everyone else, for that matter. The icy glint of his eyes fell on me and I gasped, probably rather loudly. I saw the shadow of a smug smile on his full lips before he turned his beautiful face away.

He spotted Tim and Emily in one corner and decided to join the, now terrified looking, young couple. When I came back to myself, I saw that even my friend Andre was staring, slightly open-mouthed, at the newcomer. I looked, round-eyed myself I bet, at Mallory and the sweet nurse gave me the closest thing to a pretentious smile she could muster “That’s Michael Langdon, your new buddy...”

My honey I know

With the dawn, that you will be gone

But tonight you belong to me

Just to little old me

Taglist: There are so many friends I wanna tag here, but I think I’d want to have their permission first... so if you feel like being tagged, just let me know!

#Michael Langdon #American Horror Story #AHS Apocalypse #AHS fandom #Apocalypse AU #Michael LangdonXFemale Reader #Michael Langdon fanfiction #tw: mental illness #Cody Fern #The End of the World as We Know It

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tere706 · 6 years ago

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Ask me no questions - 3

(Thanks for your patience on this fic! I did mention it would be slower to update than the Eddie/Venom/OC fic. I really enjoyed the dialogue in the second half. Had me chuckling *in an evil way for part of it*.

Anyways, I didn’t proof read this very well because I’m tired. But I’m not seeing anymore red squiggles than there should be... so it’s okay? Enjoy!

Words: ~2300)

Y/N was up early the next morning. She needed to patch together something to use as a sled for carrying Ultron. Their system from the day before wasn’t the worst, but she was trying to pass him off as salvage. He couldn’t be hanging onto her, acting alive, and have that work.

Honestly, it was a relief when she had to tell Ultron to power down and fake being deactivated. It meant he stopped pestering her. She was already anxious and worried about her whole plan. He was not helping the situation in the slightest. The only hitch with the smugglers was their demanding extra money since her ‘salvage’ was larger than expected. They actually seemed impressed.

The anxiety didn’t end there. She hiked her way back to the city, the remains of the city, and had to load up on a refugee bus. It was crowded and depressing, but at least most of the people were either quiet or spoke softly in their own language. She could lean her head back and try to relax.

She drifted away from the refugee center and headed out to catch a ride once she got off the bus. It took a few hours longer than expected to get to a city with an airport. Her mind kept imagining Ultron being discovered. Or breaking free and trying to go off on his own. Or being stolen. She had to literally bite the tip of her tongue to keep herself from speaking.

A hefty sum of money got her a ticket on the next flight out and back to America. She settled into her seat on the plane and closed her eyes. The physical exhaustion and the mental exhaustion of the worry finally took their toll. She slept.

She was half curled up in the back seat of the cab, her forehead pressed against the cold glass and her eyes closed tightly. Her stomach rolled with nausea and her head throbbed with her pulse. She was at the end of her limits. All she wanted was to crawl into her home and pass out. The cab made a slow turn and finally came to a stop. Her eyes opened and glanced out the window.

Snow had fallen since she left. The ground was covered in a fluffy, white layer. It decorated the pine trees. It also covered the long gravel drive up to her home. There weren’t any other tracks in it, so presumably she’d beaten Ultron here. The wood and brick home was out in the forest, away from people. The closest town was fifteen minutes away by car, the closest real city was over half an hour away. Her cab drive hadn’t been thrilled by her directions, but she’d offered enough money to make it worth his while.

Y/N opened the backdoor and stepped out into the snow, the cold wind biting into her. She heard the cab drive cough, a very fake cough, and leaned back in with several bills held out. The man was quick to leave, which was fine. She hadn’t taken any luggage with her, so she trudged up toward her front door. It took a moment to fumble out the key and unlock it.

Ah, blessed heat. Running electricity and plumbing out here had been an expensive pain, but it was well worth it. She dumped her coat and boots at the entry way. Her floors were hardwood and she didn’t want to drip water everywhere.

“I’m home.”

She knelt down on the floor as a white and black cat came streaking around the corner to leap into her arms. The cat was purring up a storm and nuzzling her face against Y/N’s. She stroked her hands down the cat’s small frame and chuckled softly.

“I missed you too, Eve.” The cat was mostly white with black patches on her body and legs. Y/N had adopted her when she first moved into this house two years ago.

The orange tabby sitting at the corner and staring at their little display of affection had adopted them. He was not as cuddly as Eve, but Sunny was still a part of this little family.

Y/N stood up with Eve in her arms. “Let’s get you two some fresh food and water. And scooped. Sorry I was gone so long. I shouldn’t have to travel again for a long time.” She sighed in relief just from saying those words. The pain from being around other people these last couple days was a reminder of why she had isolated herself.

Ultron didn’t arrive until the next day. She was grateful for the small reprieve. It had given her time to recover from the last few days and medicate the worst of the headache away. Ultron was sure to bring it roaring back.

“Hello, Ernie.” Y/N had the door open, shivering as the cold air invaded into her home.

“You’ve been getting a lot of packages lately! And all of them quite heavy.” Ernie was the delivery man who usually brought anything she ordered. And he wasn’t wrong, her ordering habits had certainly changed.

She smiled brightly and handed the clipboard back to him. “Oh, I decided I needed a winter project. Doing some renovations."

He nodded. “Want me to bring this box in for you? It really is heavy.”

“I would appreciate if you could bring it into the garage. I can take it from there.”

Ernie moved the large box into the garage and wished her a good day before he loaded back into his truck and slowly drove away.

Y/N sighed and started opening up the box, ripping the tape away. The inside was filled with packing peanuts. She tossed handfuls aside until she found part of Ultron’s robot body and tapped lightly on it.

“Come on, big guy. Time to wake up.” The worry settled back into her chest again. What if something had happened during the trip? What if he’d actually died?

Relief flooded her when there was a sudden red glow from the body and his arm lifted to pluck a packing peanut from one of the eye holes.

“Charming. I do believe that is a record for slowest travel for me.”

She chuckled and knelt down. “Well, you know what they say, go big or go home. Now, let me help you get downstairs. You can look over what I have and tell me what I’m missing.”

Once she was sure Ultron was holding tight with his arm over her shoulder she stood with a grunt of effort. Y/N had left the door from the garage into the house unlocked so that she just had to toe it open to slip inside. Eve chirruped up at her before arching her back and then scurrying away to hide under the couch.

“You have a cat.”

“I have two.”

“My condolences.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and carried the Ultron’s robot body to the basement door. She had to juggle a bit to get a hand free for opening the door. Then it was just a matter of not falling down the stairs. She carefully set Ultron’s body onto a rolling cart and stepped back from him.

“I didn’t know what all you would need. I did my best to gather what I could. Let me know if we need something else. It might take a couple days to get ahold of.”

She turned to look at the transformed basement. It had been a library and entertainment area. Now the bookshelves were half hidden behind boxes of metal and parts, tables, and other machines for manufacturing. Y/N knew she had gotten most of what would be needed, but some specific details had been too difficult to find out.

“You have a suitable metal to begin building a new body?” Ultron reached down with his one arm and pushed the cart along with an annoyed noise.

She shrugged slightly and gestured toward a pair of box stacks that went almost to the ceiling. “It’s not vibranium, if that’s what you hoped for. My pockets aren’t that deep.”

There was a long pause before Ultron turned his head to stare at her with that blank face. She felt her heart slam against her chest and turned away, trying for nonchalant.

“You know about vibranium?”

“Obviously. I did my research about what the best metal would be. It was used to make Captain America’s shield. I have lots of contacts. Heard there was some on the market, but it’s gone.” The best way to cover up a lie was to just use the truth and omit the pieces you wanted to keep secret. It was too soon. If Ultron tried to leave, he’d probably end up dead. He needed to stay long enough to create a few bodies as backups.

“It’s a glorified frisbee.” Ultron snapped, his anger apparently derailing his previous train of thought. Or maybe he was storing it away to consider later.

Y/N turned and smiled in his direction. “Having seen some footage of him fighting, I can’t disagree. I’m going to give you a little while to go through what I have here already. When I come back down here you can tell me what we’re missing. I think we should be able to get to work right away, even if we’re missing a couple things.”

Ultron made a contemplative noise as he turned his head to look at the rest of the room again. “I will tell you if anything is missing. But I don’t require your assistance.”

“Nope. But you’re getting it anyways. First of all, it’ll be faster than you working alone and with one arm. And second of all, I don’t fully trust you not to blow up my house.” She ticked off the points on her fingers.

“I thought we were operating on trust here.”

She snorted softly and put a hand on her hip. “Yes, to an extent. But neither of us fully trusts the other. We both have our reasons for that.” Y/N sighed, looking away. “Ultron, a few days ago you were literally trying to kill me. You can’t expect me to fully trust you yet.”

He shrugged slightly. “To be fair, I didn’t know that you as an individual existed at that time.”

“Not a valid excuse. You were still trying to kill me and everyone else.”

“Then why did you save me? If you truly believe that, why go to all this trouble to bring me here? To buy all these materials? Why are you giving me a second chance, when you know I might just kill you anyways?”

Y/N had been right. Ultron was going to bring that headache roaring back despite the pain meds she’d taken. She closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. “Because you’re a person. You deserve a second chance. A chance to make better choices. You were born into this world in a terrible way, exposed to things that no newborn should have been.”

“I am not human. I’m not a child.” Ultron interrupted her.

“As for being human… no. You’re right that you aren’t human. But you are a person. Those are two different things.” She picked up a bolt from the table, fiddling with it to distract herself. The last time she’d brought up a difficult subject with Ultron she’d almost gotten a concussion. She felt nervous talking to him now.

“And no. You are not a child. You are incredibly intelligent, but you lack… experience. You have all this knowledge, but no practical life experience to go with it. Emotionally, you are much like a child, Ultron. That’s probably why you lash out physically when angered. Common in emotionally young people. But I don’t see you as a child, just as someone lacking the experiences to ground their decisions.”

There was a long silence after that last statement. Y/N played with the bolt for a minute before glancing in Ultron’s direction. He had turned his face away from her, the boxes he was facing had a faint red glow from his sockets. Well, he had taken that better than expected. She realized with a pang that he didn’t really need her alive anymore. He had this rough workshop set up, he could make do without her here if he had to.

“How did you know about my creation?”

The question caught her off guard and she dropped the bolt back to the table with a hollow clang. He still wasn’t looking at her, hadn’t moved at all.

“Sorry, your friendship level isn’t high enough for that question.”

Ultron’s head slowly turned to face her. It was still hard to tell, since the face was solid and emotionless, but she could almost feel his baffled anger.

“What?”

“You’ll have to level up your friendship with me before I can answer questions like that one. Try again later.” A slow grin split her face. Y/N felt her chest tighten with manic glee. It was the feeling of looking at death and laughing in his face. Crazed hilarity.

This time Ultron stared silently at her for about two minutes. Which, naturally, felt like two millennia as sweat tricked down her spine and she suppressed demented laughter.

“I’ll have a list of required materials in two hours.” Ultron turned his head away and moved the cart further away.

Y/N just sagged, catching herself against the table. She panted, suddenly out of breath as her heart raced wildly. That felt like her third narrow scrape with death in the last couple days. Funny, they’d all been because of Ultron. She rushed up the stairs to escape the basement before he changed his mind.

Maybe he would forget the joke by the time she came back down.

#ultron x reader #trust issues #friendship levels #secrets #amnq

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elsaclack · 6 years ago

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Hi :) This might sound weird haha but I adore reading you talk about your writing, it's really inspiring and I feel like I learn a lot of things every time I read you talk about it (you know I'm a fan of your style haha). And anyways while I was reading your answer to your last anon, this struck me: "when i was outlining that chapter i think the only line i dedicated to the actual fight itself was “and then they have a crazy knife fight (good luck future me)”" and I wanted to ask you (1/2?)

(2/3?) do you have like any tips for writing a multichapters fic? I guess from what you wrote here you outline the whole thing before you start with it? Or it depends or the story and sometimes you just go with the flow and see where it goes haha? Do you mind sharing some of your writing process of multichapter fics? :3 Bc I tend to get "bored" really easily and if I don't finish something in one sitting I usually never ever finish it. But also I'd like to learn how to take my time sometimes

(3/3) and idk maybe learning how to properly "get ready" to write something long would help haha. I'm sorry if this doesn't make sense at all but yeah in any case just thank you for blessing my nights with your fics and killing me over and over with feels, I'm sure I said it before but you (and all of the amazing writers this fandom is blessed with) are a true inspiration!!!

you are SO sweet to me i die fhflkdsjf

i’m gonna go ahead and throw 100% of my answer under the cut because i haven’t even started yet and i know this is about to be. So Long. i am sorry in advance lmao

there are a couple of different aspects to this ask that i want to touch on so i will be as brief as possible but as i have proven twice over tonight alone, i am really not capable of that lmfao

i’d say first and foremost, the biggest thing you can do to help yourself in this arena is figure out how to best discipline yourself. which SUCKS it’s like the worst most mom answer ever but in all honesty, developing discipline in writing is what separates the “i could write a book” people from the people who actually do write books. everyone is capable of writing, but not everyone has the discipline or patience to do so. long-form narrative requires even MORE discipline than a one-shot (or even a long one-shot) because it’s like you said, it requires the author to come back over and over and over again to write new material and edit existing material and figure out a way to cohesively connect everything they’ve written into one consistent narrative, and some people have a much harder time with that than others do. there’s nothing wrong with that either way!! the world needs short stories just as much as it needs longer stories. but if you’re wanting to work on writing longer-form narratives, working out a way to best discipline yourself should probably be your number-one goal.

that kind of brings me to my next point (and also ties in part of what i was talking about in that other ask) - comparing your writing style, your progress, your everything to other writers will only lead to heartache for you. when i first started reading and writing for b99 i came across a specific author (who is now one of my dear friends) whose fics were just. next-level works of art. and while i read through just about everything she’d written for b99 and LOVED every single one of them, i found myself getting more and more down on my own writing, because i knew i’d never be able to write like her. but the more comfortable and confident i got in my own writing, the more i realized that it’s less about writing more like That Person and more about developing my own style (my favorite comparison to make between my writing and hers now is that hers are like beautiful and intricate fairy tales, and mine are more of a smokey back room at a bar where a guy is sitting alone at a table and he says “come here and listen to this story.” they’re both Very Different, and perhaps have varying audiences, but one is not inherently Better Or Worse than the other). all of this to say, if you’re working as hard as you can and being really disciplined but still find yourself struggling with writing a multichap, THAT’S OKAY!!! there’s NOTHING wrong with that!!! your writing, however short or long, serves an INCREDIBLY important purpose within the fandom as a whole and no matter what, there will ALWAYS be an audience for your writing.

so okay as for the actual Advice!!! i actually have a couple of steps that i usually follow prior to actually Writing the first chapter of any long fic i’ve written (or am in the process of writing...@king and lionheart yikes). i have yet to really find any consistency in how i think of ideas for multichaps - so far the idea every multichap i’ve written has come from a different source (which is actually kind of Frustrating for reasons i won’t get into). but basically once i actually have An Idea, i’ll take a day or two to kind of think it over and flesh it out as much as possible. if it really starts expanding in detail and an actual Story constructs itself around the idea, i’ll move on to the next step, which is to find a few trusted mutuals here on tungle.corn and say “heyyYYY CAN I YELL ABOUT AN IDEA I HAVE FOR A SECOND” and then spill everything i’ve thought of so far. usually i can tell if an idea will live or die based on these conversations - if the other person is Into It and we start sort of developing the world within the chat, i know it’s time to really sit down and make an effort to pursue the fic. in that case, i will go and copy&paste that part of our chat into a google doc and i’ll build an outline in a separate doc. i used to despise outlines and i would refuse to do them in high school, but once i got into writing as a hobby and i started pursuing longer narrative forms, i tried once or twice to write a multichap without an outline and i just forgot a lot of the details i originally wanted to include, which left me feeling really frustrated with myself and with my writing. i came to realize that outlines kind of a necessary evil, so in writing them i made them as fun for me as possible (i.e. the “good luck future me” line from the king and lionheart outline i mentioned lmao). now i love them and i have them open at all times while i’m working on writing a new chapter.

so i know that i started this off by saying that writing multichaps requires a special kind of discipline, and i stand by that, but also...writer’s block and real life responsibility and just plain exhaustion are all Very Real Things, and they take precedent over keeping up with a publishing schedule (if you’re so inclined to make one of those for yourself). when i started writing king and lionheart, i didn’t know at that point that i would be headed back to school in the spring, and thought that i would have all the time in the world to write. right around november, i realized that i would be going back to school - that’s about the time i took an unofficial hiatus from writing king and lionheart, because i knew trying to keep up with writing that fic the way that i want it to be written and all of the intensive and demanding coursework was going to kill me. taking a step back from posting and coming back to it later is okay. i know i talk a lot about feeling guilty for not having an update for king and lionheart (and the cancer au before it) but in all honesty i know that it’s okay for me to take some time and deal with my real life. and, you know, it’s also okay to lose inspiration for a while and to take a step back until that inspiration comes back. i think it’s that fear of not being able to take longer breaks between updates that scares a lot of people off from even trying to write a multichap - as the queen of procrastination, i am here to tell you that it is 100% okay to start a multichap and to take a break and come back to it when necessary!

writing a multichap is very much like running a marathon - it requires a different kind of energy than a 400 meter sprint or a 1k fluffy oneshot. it’s gonna hurt and it’s gonna suck and there are gonna be times when you’re ready to just quit writing altogether. but there will be parts that are really fun and really easy and you’re gonna get some really great views along the way - and at the end when you cross that finish line and you’re able to check that “complete” box on ao3 before you post the last chapter, you won’t remember the parts that sucked. trust me!! i wouldn’t write as many as i do if the actual shitty parts of the writing process negated the good things that come from writing it and sharing it with other people!

it’s also worth noting that just because you get bored with an idea doesn’t mean that you can’t pick it up again later!!! honestly the first 2 or 3 paragraphs of on your heart like a tattoo sat in my google docs for MONTHS before i randomly decided one day to open it and take a crack at finishing it, and to this DAY i’m still getting people regularly commenting on it. every idea has its purpose and its place, even if it doesn’t always immediately seem like it.

i really hope this helps and i’m sorry if it doesn’t!!! you are such a kind and wonderful person and i absolutely adore you

#em answers #nice people #guys i adore adele #seriously #writing advice #b99peraltiago

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nade2308 · 6 years ago

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Love lasts forever

Written for: stanclub2k followers milestone challenge.

Prompt: "Who hurt you?" with Stucky.

Pairings: Stucky (Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes).

Other pairings: Sam Wilson x Riley and past Bucky Barnes x Brock Rumlow

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Riley (minor appearance and mentioned), Tony Stark (mentioned), Natasha Romanoff (minor appearance), Brock Rumlow, Jack Rollins (mentioned), Alexander Pierce (mentioned) Barnes and Rogers families (mentioned).

A/N: Thank you @stanclub for organizing this challenge. It was fun to get another story out in such a short time. I wrote a part for this story last month but lost the inspiration for a bit. Then another story took over my time and I thought I'd have time to finish it. I never thought it would get past 3k (before ideas started pouring in my brain and discussing it with my friends was proving to spur my muse). In the end I have this story that's 9.3k long (the last three days were spent writing fervently).

Thanks to @lisamott9 and @82tweeder for the help and encouragement on this story.

...

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I need to meet more friends anyway. Tony’s advice.”

“Can’t believe I’m agreeing with Stark, but you really need to, my friend. Okay, Steve. See you at 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

Steve hung up and looked at the clock. It was almost 5 and he knew that if it wasn’t something really important, Sam wouldn’t insist on bringing his friend with him last minute.

The next 2 hours were spent in sketching and outlining a logo for his next project. Steve needed to figure out the colors and how to combine them. Scratching his head, he thought about asking Sam. He took a picture of the previous logo and one of his drawing, and put the sketch into his drawing folder, before he went to his room.

Steve never cared for his appearance, always opting for casual, but tonight he felt like he could dress up a little bit. He picked his favorite navy blue button down, and the new pair of navy blue jeans he bought last week. He also put on some of the expensive - overpriced - cologne that Tony gave him for his birthday, and Steve had to admit that the fruity smell was nice. It reminded him of his late mother’s lemon pie, God bless her soul.

He took his bomber leather jacket with him, put on shoes and locked the door of his apartment behind him.

…

Bucky was miserable.

Absolutely miserable.

On a scale of 1 to 10, he was a 15.

He was angry. And mad. For letting himself go back to Brock. For giving him more ammo to hurt Bucky. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Brock in the throes of pleasure, with another man in bed. Right now he was pacing like a caged animal and judging by Sam's glare, he was wearing thin Sam's patience and support. And Sam was getting frustrated because he repeated ‘Damn Barnes, you’ll wear a hole on the floor’ more than once. But he couldn't stay in one place. Probably why he agreed to go with Sam and his friend at the bar.

Sam really liked Bucky and hated to see him so bothered. As much as Sam tried to warn Bucky not to get back to his ex, love was blind and it wasn’t exactly Bucky’s fault for falling in love with the wrong person.

A heart doesn’t choose, Sam’s mom would say right before kissing his father in front of Sam to rile him up.

Sam smiled at the memory, but he was brought back to reality when he heard a noise in the kitchen. Sam stormed in the kitchen where there were shards of glass and spilt water on the floor. Bucky looked like he was on the verge of crying and Sam wanted to tear Brock piece by piece.

“Hey, it’s just a glass.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, just looked at the mess on the floor.

“Why don’t you go and get ready, Bucky? I’ll clean this up.”

“No, I’ll-"

“James, please.”

Sam rarely used Bucky’s real name, unless there was a point to be made. Looking at the red and swollen eyes of his friend, Sam knew Bucky got the message.

“I’ll go and shower.”

“You know what would be great? Run a bath.”

“Come on, Sam, I’m not in the mood to do that.”

“What you are at the moment, is in need to get yourself back to normal. You need to care about yourself for once Bucky. You need to see yourself before the others. Go and have a nice bath. Use your favorite shampoo. And just relax.”

Bucky stood for a moment, deep in thought, weighing his options. Then he nodded, wearily. Just having his favorite shampoo at Sam's and Riley's place said a few things about him. Like the fact that he spent lots of time there.

The buckets of Rocky Road in the fridge did too.

“Do you by any chance have that lavender essential oil?”

“Do I have-? Barnes, who do you think I am? Of course I do.” Sam always had the flair for the dramatic. But it pulled a smile out of Bucky so it was worth it. “You know Riley loves that shit after you hooked him on it.

“Not my fault the guy has taste, Sammy.”

“Call me Sammy one more time Grandma Barnes…” Sam waggled a finger.

“Catch me if you can, Sammy.”

“You little shit!” Sam called after Bucky but Bucky was out of earshot already. Laughing, Sam set the timer on the coffee machine to make coffee for himself and Bucky and went to clean the kitchen floor.

…

Bucky rummaged through cupboards until he spotted the bottle with the lavender oil. He ran the hot water to the temperature he liked. Then he applied a liberal amount of oil. Bucky eyed some candles and decided to light a few to help him relax more. When everything was set, he stripped in front of the mirror and looked at himself for the first time after the shit with Brock hit the fan.

He looked gaunt, his cheeks were hollowed out, sharper than ever, the smudges under his eyes a permanent fixture he never tried to hide. His eyes were bloody and red-rimmed. And his body… he looked horrible. He was never the one to have too much weight but where he had muscle and was lean, he was skinny now and the muscles were almost non-existent.

Bucky took a deep breath. Things needed to change

Letting his mind float while he had his bath, Bucky thought only of only one thing. Meeting Sam’s friend and getting hammered. Okay, maybe two things.

…

A mug of coffee waited for him when he got out of the bathroom.

“Sam, you are an angel.”

“For putting up with your sorry ass? I am a saint.” Sam jabbed from his place on the couch, watching reruns of a TV show Bucky never got to watch. Maybe he will now that he actually had the time.

Bucky parked himself in front of the tv himself, sensing Sam's eyes on him.

“You okay, Bucky?”

Bucky let the voices in the background tune out as he thought about Sam's question.

“I think that's a loaded question and you know it Sam.”

“I have time.”

Bucky sighed.

“You were right the first two times. Brock is a bad habit. I thought I could change that. Change him. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't ask anyone to change for me, but I think I wanted the old Brock to come back. And then I just deluded myself that he was not the person he is…”

Sam nodded in thought.

“I did some thinking. Well all I do these days is think,” Bucky laughed dryly, “but I came to realize that I should work on myself more. Not let the thing with Brock hold me back. Think I gave him enough of my time and life already. And I promised to myself, this time whatever happens, I come first.”

“Atta boy. That's the spirit.”

“If he cared for me half as much as I did for him, he wouldn't do it.”

“That's right.”

“I know what you'll say and you have every right to. But I… I don't know why I did it. Why I kept going back to him. God I'm a mess.” Bucky put his face in his hands.

“No. You are not. You acknowledged the problem and you are willing to see it go. You may not think that, and I blame that asshole for fucking up with your brain, but you are worth it Bucky. Worth to love and to be taken care of. So, good riddance Brock Rumlow.” Bucky smiled. Sam’s reassurance and support meant a lot to him and if it wasn't for him and Sam's boyfriend, Riley, Bucky didn't know where he'd be today.

“Not to mention, it'll take time Barnes. But you took the first and most important step. The rest will come along in its own pace. Just don't rush it.

“Thank you Sam.”

“You don't have to thank me. Now go. I picked you an outfit for tonight. It's in my room.”

Bucky laughed. Typical Sam.

…

Bucky was dressed in a plaid shirt and black tight jeans that Sam swore accentuated his ass. Bucky glared at him with Sam replying “you have to get it out there to be seen, hon” in his best imitating a woman voice. Then he slapped him on the ass.

Bucky giggled because Sam may have been a drama queen sometimes and knew how to get on his nerves, but he was a great friend.

They got at the bar a little before 8 and as Sam turned his head around to look for his friend Bucky felt like he was in a dream. He was faced with someone he knew a long time. A very long time.

Deja vu. But it couldn't be, could it?

Sam chose that moment to go and meet his friend. Which turned out to be Bucky's deja vu.

Bucky stood frozen on the spot when he saw the tall, blond man greeting Sam. It wasn't a dream after all. "Steve," Sam's voice sounds distant in Bucky's ears, "this is the friend I mentioned. James. But he goes by-" "Bucky?" Sam raised an eyebrow, looking from one man to the other. "I guess you two know each other then." Sam grinned like he just won the lottery. "Y-yes... Bucky is my childhood best friend." "Met this punk in a back alley behind the place where I lived as a kid. Turned out he lived three houses down from me." Bucky smiled as he remembered 6 years old Steve all skin and bones against the wall defending a boy his age from a bully. "We became friends. This jerk has helped me out fighting a few bullies himself." Steve smirked. Bucky smiled sadly as he continued the thread of the conversation. "Went to the same high school even. Then... We sort of parted ways when we went to separate colleges. Haven't seen him in a while." A while being 3 years. "Great to see you man." Steve exclaimed, happiness radiating off of him. He eyed Bucky with a nostalgic look and something that even Bucky couldn't understand. Bucky smiled, despite the feeling of gloom that was there since breaking up with Brock. Steve had that effect on people. Especially on Bucky. Steve was a balm to his soul. "Can we please at least get drinks from the bar and find a booth before you two eye fuck each other right here?" Sam rolled his eyes to finish off his statement. Steve sputtered and blushed, no one has joked about him and Bucky being in a relationship in a long time. They used to get that speech from everyone (even their parents) when they were teenagers. "We are not-" "Relax, Stevie, Sam is joking. Boy just wants to get this party started." "See this, Stevie, Barnes knows me better than you do." "Okay, okay. How did you two meet anyway? Ganging up on me. Bad, bad boys." Steve's voice was chiding but he was also smiling so it lost all effect. "I'll leave that story for another night." "I'll hold you to that." Steve said and sent Sam a warning glare. "Another thing you should know about Steve is, he's like those small pitbull terriers. When they get on to something, good luck with plucking them off of you." Sam shook his head, wondering what he got himself into. "Two shots of vodka, Sammy. That work for ya’ Steve?” Steve nodded. “It's settled then. We'll find us a nice booth." Bucky said and dragged Steve with him. "Get your own vodka, Barnes!" Sam's voice carried over even as he walked towards the bar. "Bite me." Sam turned to the bartender and ordered their drinks. "Swear I'm dealing with actual children. What did I get myself into?" "Friends can be goofs too." The bartender grinned and winked at Sam. "Two shots of vodka for the goofs then and for me... surprise me." The blond placed the shots in front of Sam and glared. "This better be the last time you try to flirt with me like we haven't been together forever Samuel." "I love what my flirting does to you, babe." "Get your ass off my bar Wilson and go join your friends." "When you finish come and join us?" Riley nodded and shooed Sam away. …

“How have you been Buck?” Steve used the first available opportunity to start a conversation.

Bucky looked at him, weighing the question.

“You mean like, right now or…?”

“I mean you, Buck. How have you been?”

“You want the blunt version or the sugar coated one?”

“C'mon Buck. You know me. You can tell me everything.”

“I… um… I ended up my relationship few days ago. So not the best? But getting there.”

Steve hummed in sympathy and his blue eyes never left Bucky's face. The Bucky he remembered was always a cheerful person, and everything about him screamed “confident”. But this Bucky? It was obvious that he was in pain and it wasn't just something recent.

How did they get to this point? They used to tell everything to each other.

"Who hurt you?" Bucky was taken aback by the question. He blinked hard and focused his eyes on Steve. The look on Steve's face was inquisitive but also caring. What did he do to deserve Steve in his life? "You seem like you are in pain, Buck. And there's not an obvious physical injury - and I could tell if there was one - so it's not that kind of pain." Bucky forgot that Steve was one hell of a perspective guy. "I'm right, then." It wasn't a question. "It's a bit complicated." "I have time." Sam chose that moment to join them with their drinks. "What have I told you about eavesdropping, Wilson?" Bucky sounded annoyed but used to, like Sam had done this before. "It just happened. And to answer your question Steve, because this goof won't ever admit it if he's hurting unless it's a stubbed toe-" "Sam..." "He hurt himself." "Sam, don't-" "This fucking idiot - and you are an idiot Barnes - let himself get back to his ex for the third time. And that vile piece of scum-" "Sam, please..." Now Bucky had tears in his eyes and Steve's heart did a weird thing. He wanted to punch whoever did this to Bucky. He would do everything for Bucky. It's been a long time since he felt like this for Bucky. Maybe he didn't bury those feels as deep as he thought. Steve was very protective of Bucky as it was but in the end he had to distance himself or else he would have risked their friendship. And as much as he wanted to see them together, the possible rejection by Bucky had Steve surrendering himself to a life without his best friend. And for a while it worked. But to listen that Bucky got hurt from his ex hurt Steve too.

Sam looked from Steve to Bucky and seemed to see something because he chose to not say anything else. He sat on Bucky's left while Steve came closer to Bucky's right. Steve could hear Winnie Barnes' voice in his head "see Sarah, those two have no sense of personal space whatsoever". "I'm sorry if it sounded harsh, but I just look out for you. You are my friend Bucky. Hate to see you hurt." "I know Sam. I know." Bucky felt at ease with both Steve and Sam by his side. He knew Steve longer than Sam, but Sam was a great friend - they both were - and Bucky was grateful that God sent them both at the same time to him because of the situation he was in. Bucky was aware that Brock was an asshole and that after the second break-up it was only the need to go back and have that semblance of normal relationship. They had something good going at the start, Brock wasn't so bad, but after a while everything changed. Bucky wasn't sure why he started crying. It certainly wasn't because he wanted to go back to Brock. But he didn't give himself enough time to heal after discovering Jack Rollins in the bed Bucky and Brock shared. It hurt and it stung. More than the previous break-ups. Steve saw something in that moment and maybe ingrained from years of being Bucky's best friend or maybe from just wanting to comfort him, but he moved at the same time Sam did. Call it instinct or coincidence. The hug was unexpected and if Bucky sobbed on Steve's shoulder in the process, no one had to know but him and Steve. And maybe Sam. It felt like relief, being held and comforted, for him to rely on someone instead of being the crying shoulder. Maybe he needed this outlet. "There, there." Sam drew soothing circles on Bucky's back while Steve held on Bucky tight. Steve didn't like when people were hurt, especially Bucky. And even then he always went out of his way to make him feel better. After a while Bucky lifted his head and looked at Steve, sniffling. "Thanks, Stevie. I'm sorry I'm a mess." "Don't mention it, Buck. Your mess is my mess, too. Want to tell me what happened?" "Maybe another time. You back to Brooklyn?" "Yeah. I think LA got enough of me already." "I'm glad." "Hey Steve..." "Listen Buck..." They both spoke at the same time and giggled. It was like old times, unaware of Sam rolling his eyes at them and leaving them to their own devices as he went to the bar to get more drinks. "You first." "No, Stevie, you first." "I was gonna ask... I haven't heard from you for a while and... um, you have the same number, right?" "No, I don't. My phone was stolen few months ago and when I went to get a new one... they said that they couldn't recover my contacts. If I'd known that you were a friend of Sam’s I would've asked him." "Don't worry. Now we found each other again. And I'd like to see you more now that I'm back. We have lots of things to talk about." "True." And certainly there were things you couldn't say over the phone. ... The rest of the night went smooth. The initial thought of Bucky getting hammered flew out of the window when he met Steve again. Catching up with his best friend was more important than alcohol and maybe that's what he needed. To talk and forget for a while why he was there at the bar. Now that Steve was back home everything looked easier. What Brock did to him was still there, it would still hurt, but with Steve beside him, Bucky found it could be bearable. Sam called it a night shortly after Riley joined them when his shift ended. Sam wanted to have some alone time with his boyfriend before Bucky decided to join them. "So, Sam and the bartender, huh?" "Yup. Don't tell me you didn't know." "I knew he had a boyfriend but never met him." "How did you two met anyway?" "In college. I minored and he majored in psychology. We stayed in contact even when I moved to LA." Bucky nodded and was wondering how they hadn't met before Bucky... He chased those thoughts away because he didn't need his gloomy mood to ruin the night. "The world is small." Bucky concluded. "Definitely. So, I have a suggestion. I assume you don't have your own place..." Bucky smiled. "Yes, you guess correct. The break-up didn't go well and I... I am crashing at Sam's ever since." "Well if you wouldn't mind, you can come stay at my place tonight? Give the boys some privacy." Bucky wanted to say yes. He really did. "It's not like we haven't had sleepovers before, Buck. Plus I have enough space. What do you say?" And how was anyone able to resist Steve when he asked them with those Bambi eyes? "Okay. I concede defeat." "My place then." "Your place." They both found out that Sam paid for everyone - and after an extensive torture (the taxi driver had to laugh when Bucky tickled Steve) - Steve admitted they may have talked about things when Bucky went to the bathroom. They finally arrived at Steve's place. It was... spacious to say the least. Bucky took it all in and gaped. "This is... amazing Steve." "Thanks. You wanna watch TV and order in or you want to go to bed?" It wasn't late, barely even 11.30 and Bucky certainly had nothing else to do on a Saturday night so he agreed on the offer. After a while he was relaxed enough to doze off. Food in his belly, the distant sound of the voices on one of the crime shows they played late at night and the warm presence of Steve. For the first time in the last week things were on the 'up' side. And waking up covered with the softest fleece blanket ever made was a nice bonus. …

Bucky found a note on the night table that read "See you later, had to run to the store." Bucky felt warm and fuzzy, both from meeting Steve again after so long, and because he was covered in this soft blanket that brought back memories from his childhood. Bucky stretched cat-like on the couch and sighed. The sun was up, and warmth spread in the living room of Steve's apartment. Judging by the note Steve wasn't gone long, but Bucky figured he could lounge a bit more. Steve was always the early bird, Bucky preferring to stay under the blankets for "5 more minutes, please Stevie". And being the night owl continued well into adulthood. Old habits die hard. Bucky let himself close his eyes again, relishing in the softness of the cushion under his head and the sun caressing his cheeks. He wasn't asleep, more like drifting off and thinking of him and Steve. When Bucky was 7 he met Steve in that back alley, trying to fight that bully kid for picking on one of his peers. Steve was 6 at the time, all skin and bones and a strong will. The numerous ailments didn't help him most of the time, Bucky remembered numerous days when he had to bring homework to Steve and tend to him. Sarah, Steve's mom was a nurse that sometimes took double shifts to bring home enough money so they could make a decent living. By the time Bucky was 8, the Barnes' had adopted Sarah and Steve as theirs. Bucky smiled as he remembered Steve becoming even more of a fierce fighter at school and back alleys. The moment he became a teenager some of Steve's medical conditions receeded. Not that you could do much about food allergies or asthma, but he got better. To everyone's joy. And about the time Bucky started to notice that he was feeling something more for Steve. Something that wasn't just friendship. Coming out wasn't easy. Bucky thought that Steve could tell Bucky had feelings for him, but then, Steve had known him for a better part of his life then and supported him in everything (no matter how stupid it may have looked at the time. Steve had a moto in life: you won't know if you don't try) and Bucky being gay didn't put Steve off. With time Bucky tried to quell on his feelings and desires. He felt guilty that he jerked off to the thoughts of his best friend, like he was dirtying up their friendship. And Steve was straight (at least as far as their high school discoveries went). Those internal struggles made Bucky stronger and soon he was able to blame his mood swings to the teenage hormones coursing through his body when in reality it was Steve going out with Connie, then with Bonnie and finally starting a relationship with Peggy Carter. The night Bucky learned about that was the first time he got drunk. And cried until he couldn't. Bucky opened his eyes when he felt tears stinging the corners of his eyes. He knew it was bound to happen - the trip down memory lane. After that, their friendship kind of fell to the backburner, Steve went on dates with Peggy and had little to no time for Bucky. Bucky used that spare time to bury himself in his school books. When Steve was 17 his mom died from cancer and even though it was a horrible event, Bucky had his friend back at least. Soon after, Peggy announced that she was leaving to go to college in London, back to her roots. A messy goodbye with lots of promises but Bucky knew nothing would come out of it. Something in Steve broke when Sarah died. Something not even Peggy could help fix it. Bucky sighed. He didn't need to think of the past. It was as it was, they went their different paths, he became a mechanical engineer and Steve went to art school. Then a job opportunity came at him when a renowned gallery from LA loved his drawings so much they asked for him straight away. And it turned out they weren't accepting 'no' for an answer. The second worst hangover Bucky had was the morning after Steve left for LA. It was a bit hurtful when Steve said to Bucky that night, that nothing tied him with Brooklyn anymore. Bucky wanted to yell at him that Steve had him to stay for. But Bucky could not ask that from Steve. It wasn't Steve's fault. And Steve deserved the best and not Bucky holding him back from what he could do once he got his wings. Bucky could move on. He'd done it before. The contact between them was far and few and after a while it was reduced to birthdays and holidays. Steve was always busy and after a while Bucky landed a job with Stark Industries so it wasn't like he could spare time. Then along came Brock. Something that started as a fling and ended up breaking Bucky's heart more than once. Bucky was sure he liked Brock. Maybe even loved him. Never as much as he did Steve but loved him nonetheless. Bucky couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when Brock started acting strange but he was more controlling, never showing too much affection and the periods after Bucky would break up with him until Brock came to ask for forgiveness were longer each time. Bucky tried to erase the image of Brock and Jack out of his mind, but he couldn't. He also knew their last attempt was a desperate cry for help, Bucky's for that matter but he thought he could make things work. Turned out that Brock was stringing him along the whole time. But like Sam said, 'good riddance'. Bucky took a deep breath and checked the clock. He was awake for total of 20 minutes. Steve should be back any minute. Bucky decided that taking a shower wouldn't hurt. ... Clearly the shower was not the greatest idea Bucky had because he forgot he had no clothes with him at Steve's. Luckily he had his phone on the counter. Embarrassing as it was he fired off a text to Steve. Bucky was glad they exchanged numbers last night. An answer came right away like Steve was already back. ‘Second door to the left. Guest room’. Bucky thanked his lucky stars and hurried off to get dressed. Steve developed physically while in high school but he apparently got more buff because the sweater and sweatpants were hanging on Bucky a bit. Or maybe he should hit the gym again and return to his normal weight and gain some muscle. Definitely worth thinking of again but he'd care more about it later. Now he had to face Steve. It smelled of cinnamon and bacon and eggs and toast and Bucky was drawn to the food as a moth was drawn to a flame. "Morning Princess. How was sleep?" "It was good. Really good. So, food?" "Always straight to the point Buck. There is bacon and eggs, toast with butter and cinnamon rolls." "Can I have all?" "Suit yourself. And I suppose both orange juice and coffee." "You know me the best Steve." They spent breakfast in a pleasant silence, enjoying their food. "So listen Steve, I had absolutely a great night and this breakfast is amazing but I gotta go." Steve's face fell and Bucky wondered if it was because he'd planned something for them or something else. "Uh, okay, but we'll see each other again, right?" Bucky nodded with a smile. "Now that I found you again, I'm not letting you go." Steve chuckled and that adorable dimple on his chin appeared. One of the many little things that Bucky loved about Steve. "I gotta work on a project for Monday. I've been slacking off ever since... and I want to get it over with." "It's understandable." Bucky was ready and by the door when he was pulled in a bear hug. He got lost in the embrace. Steve hugged like a koala clinging on a tree. "Still giving the best damn hugs in the world, Rogers." Bucky exclaimed. "I have to keep my reputation." "Thanks." "For what?" "For everything." "Don't mention it, Buck. Always." …

The next few weeks were spent in catching up. What Steve did in LA, other places he visited, his work and all the little details texts and calls couldn't cover. Bucky learned that Tony, his boss and friend was also Steve's friend. How the universe connected Sam and Tony with Steve without Bucky's knowledge was beyond Bucky. It was one week until Steve's birthday and both he and Bucky had a day off. When the offer came to spend the afternoon at Prospect Park and grab a bite afterwards was attractive enough that Bucky agreed immediately. If Bucky was honest with himself, Steve got him at food. It was a nice and sunny summer day. Bucky was enjoying the sun and the slight warm wind while Steve held his end on a small talk and sketching. Bucky always loved seeing Steve in his element. Nature always had that effect on him. "Hey, Steve?" "Hm?" "I wanna ask you something. You don't have to..." "What?" "What made you come back to Brooklyn? I like that you are here again, but it seemed like you were doing well at the gallery. Getting to create your own art. Be yourself." Steve closed his sketch pad and turned to look at Bucky fully. "Pierce, the gallery owner was a bit eccentric." And by bit Steve meant completely. "He was trying to convince me to try and change my style and I didn't want to. We bickered more than agreeing on things. Plus he led things his old fashioned way and for a while things didn't click. We had a big fight. We didn't reach an agreement. That's all." Bucky nodded and seemed like he was trying to understand why. Still something didn't add up. But he figured it was a thing they'd discuss another day. For now he just let himself enjoy the day with Steve. …

It was another month of texts and Skype sessions before Steve and Bucky had a chance to see each other. Stark made a deal with a company for new metal prosthetics and Bucky was the lead engineer on the project, being it his idea. He barely had time to see the inside of his home (he finally found a decent place at the start of August).

The time he got he devoted to Steve. Bucky didn't know if it was the few times he saw Steve or the fact that Steve was back in his life, but the feelings he had for his best friend started to resurface. Or maybe he was still healing and his broken heart clutched on every safe option. But in the end Bucky came to a realization that he always loved Steve. You truly love only once in your life and all that.

Seeing Steve so live and animated was worth every heartache. Bucky’s eyes were closing and he kept from yawning, only Steve's voice from his laptop speakers kept him from falling face first onto the keyboard. "So this client - she wants to buy this painting and she insists on the price that it's too high, when in fact the painting was not for sale. It’s decoration on the wall and we... Uh Buck, you okay?" "Huh? Wha?" "You look like you are tired." "That's because I am." Bucky couldn't stop the yawn this time. "Why didn't you say so? My thing can wait." "Nah, please go on. I am-" yawn "-awake." "Uh-huh. I can see that. Look, I have a day off tomorrow, so maybe if you can, we can go to lunch?" "Sure. Tony gave me 3 days off. We finally closed this project and he said I deserved a breather. To be honest, I planned to spend 2 days straight on sleeping." "You can still sleep and have lunch with me?" Bucky couldn't say no to that adorable Golden Retriever staring at him. Steve always knew when to use them puppy dog eyes and Bucky fell for them every single time. "Goof." "That means we'll see each other tomorrow, right?" "It's a date." The second those words got out of his mouth, Bucky panicked. He knew he shouldn't talk with Steve when tired. When tired or drunk, Bucky always said things he tried to keep locked inside. "It's a date." Steve grinned. That night Bucky lay in bed, unable to fall asleep. ... Steve was nervous. What should he wear? He knew it was just a lunch with Bucky. And with Bucky he didn't have to put up an image. Bucky had seen him at his worst and wouldn't care even if Steve appeared in sweatpants. But still, Steve was panicking inside for a bit because it was the first time Steve asked Bucky out. It felt like asking out. He was also afraid that he was too eager when Bucky said "it's a date" last night. Fact was, Steve’s feelings not just returned, but intensified. But he had to squash down on those hopes. No way Bucky could feel the same for him as he did for Bucky. Steve schooled his features as he saw Bucky entering in the restaurant. Once Bucky noticed Steve a grin lit his face. They hugged and sat down. "Hey there stranger." Steve joked. "I don't know who the stranger is here, Rogers." Steve had a quip ready when the waitress interrupted them with bringing the menus.

“I'll have hash browns.” Bucky concluded after a moment.

“I'll have the same, thank you.”

The waitress wrote down their order and retreated. They made small talk until their food arrived. Steve telling Bucky about his almost-sale yesterday and Bucky elaborating on the prosthetics he worked on. "I think that it will help vets and accident victims that lost their arm or both arms. It's this metal, vibranium, that gets shaped in the form of the other arm and there is a mechanism that will connect the nerve endings of what's left in the arm to the wires inserted in the prosthetic. You can move it and everything. It's still new, got the idea couple of years ago but started developing it last year. Tony thinks that we can start the trial period. I just have to figure how to make the vibranium lighter. Don't want the prosthetic to weigh more than what the other arm does and to cause more problems than solve them." "That's amazing, Buck. Truly a great idea. I'm sure lots of people can benefit from your research and the end result. Hope you figure it out soon." "Thanks. And the best thing is Tony - he made a deal with the VA in Brooklyn, that we'd give discount to those that can't pay full price for the prosthetic and in case the person is not able to afford it we'd give it for free. That's actually how I met Sam. He volunteers there." "That's wonderful and humble, Bucky!" "It's mostly Tony. My idea with his finances. I think that after he learned what his father's partner did with the weapons... He's trying to redeem himself for letting it happen in front of his eyes." "Yeah, I heard. Too bad it fall all on the Stark company and Tony as one half of the partnership." "Yes. But Tony did good on selling that company and starting his own. I was lucky to get the job when I did." "How did you come up with this idea?" "Curious as always..." Bucky sighed. "Remember that car accident I was in 2 years ago?" "Yes. Why?" "I might have... not told you the full extent of my injuries." "You what?" "I was seriously injured. My left arm was broken in a few places and my shoulder was moved out of the socket. It was a painful and slow healing process. Hurt a lot. What was the worst, for a while I couldn't move the arm. Had to do everything with one arm. So I thought, if I felt like this with my arm at least being attached to my body still - and possibility of getting it back to fully functional - how does it feel to those that don't have it anymore?" Steve looked like something physically hurt him. "I'm okay now, Steve. Don't worry. Have some scarring on my shoulder and chest from the surgery but I'm okay otherwise." "Okay if you say so. But - next time you tell me if something happens. Everything Whatever it is." "Deal."

“I mean it. Don't make me question you.”

“I give you my word.”

“Good.” …

Brock was watching Bucky and the blond with him closely for a while now, only seeing it was Bucky when Bucky laughed at something the guy with him said. Something in Brock stirred then and he got up from the table he sat on, alone. Jack gave him the boot soon after Bucky found them together and now he spent most of his days wandering around and eating in restaurants. Alone. When he saw Bucky it was like he struck gold. Brock decided to make his presence known by going to their table. "Well hello there, Bucky." Bucky froze and he dropped his fork. The loud clatter made Steve carefully place his fork in the plate and look at the man that joined them. Apparently Bucky knew him. "Buck, who's this?" Steve asked calmly. Bucky meant to tell Steve about Brock. He really did. But when their reunion happened it was a fresh wound, one that Bucky didn’t one to talk about. He just delayed the inevitable. Until he didn't think of it anymore. But seeing Brock in the same restaurant where he had lunch with Steve wasn't how Bucky wanted things to happen. And now Steve wanted to know who the guy was. "You are Bucky's new guy, huh? No wonder he ditched me last minute. And here I thought I did something wrong." "Brock..." Bucky didn't dare look at Brock. He was too shocked by Brock's words. "Did he tell you he tends to get back to me? He always does. Don't know what took him so long this time." "You and I both know I won't get back to you!" Bucky spat and finally looked at Brock. He could feel Steve's eyes on him. "We'll see about that. So, Bucky's new fuck buddy, nice to meet you. I'm Brock-" "Fuck off, Rumlow!" Bucky suddenly roared. "Get out! You have no right to come here and barge in on my lunch with whoever I want to go out." "I think that I actually do." "Excuse me?" Bucky heard Steve clear his throat but he was too busy staring at Brock, scared the man will try something. "Let's walk it out, buddy. No need to make a scene." "I am not making a scene, just wanted to-" "Let's walk it out." Steve punctuated the sentence with grabbing Brock by the arm and dragging him out of the restaurant and on the sidewalk. Bucky watched as Steve talked and Brock got more annoyed with every second. And then Steve swung with his fist and landed a punch square on Brock's face. The rest of the people at the restaurant watched in awe. Steve said something else and then got back inside. By that point Bucky started to come down from his shock and the brief adrenaline rush for speaking up to Brock - something he hadn't done before. It was a first and scared him. What if Brock came for him. What if...

"Buck?" Steve's voice sounded like from miles away and not next to him. "Bucky... pal, what is it?" It's only then that Bucky has moved his head to face Steve. "Yeah, Stevie?" "Are you okay?" "Yeah... I..." Bucky cleared his throat, but the unfocused look into his eyes still present. "I'm okay." Steve didn't say anything after that, but something told him that the guy interrupting their lunch was Bucky's ex. The way he talked about Bucky and assuming Steve was Bucky's "fuck buddy". Steve felt better for punching him. That will teach him not to mess with Bucky. "Serves him right, you know?" "What does?" "You punching him... he deserves it. He's a douche. I just can't believe how was I able to stay with him for so long?" "We can't order our hearts how to feel about someone Buck. It's over now." "But I was so stupid. God knows what shit he's been talking about me and I was with him- What he did-" "Hey," Steve put his hand over Bucky's on the table, rubbing soothing circles over Bucky's wrist, "You are worth more than what that asshole thought you were. You are strong and smart and pretty. You don't need him to feel better about yourself. Those that truly know you for who you are, would not give a damn about what he says about you. His words are a twisted sense of reality. And fuck his opinion on you. It doesn't matter to me Buck." Bucky smiled. It was just a lift on the corners of his mouth, but he smiled nonetheless and Steve counted that as a win. And then: "You think I'm pretty, Stevie?" Steve laughed and that seemed to break the tension.

“From all that I said, that’s the part you stumbled upon?”

…

Bucky poked at his hash browns, trying to finish his meal, but with not much of a success. Instead his eyes moved to Steve's right hand and the red skin of his knuckles. "I think you should put ice on that. It's gonna bruise." "I know. And I will." "Let me get it for ya'. And the check. I think I'm done eating." "Same. But you don't have to. I'll-" But Bucky was off like a shot before Steve finished his sentence. A little off balance but nothing that made Steve worry too much. Natasha, the waitress that served them had ice ready by the time Bucky reached the counter. She smiled politely and handed the ice as Bucky asked for the check. The least he could do was to pay - after what he put Steve through. He thanked Natasha and went back to Steve.

“Put this on your hand.”

“Once a worrier. Always a worrier.”

“I can't help it, Steve. It’s ingrained in me.”

“What do we do now?”

“Take me home? Please? I'm not in the mood for anything else than curling on my couch and watching TV.”

“I can do that.” Steve smiled and as a true gentlemen helped Bucky that was trembling slightly.

“You don't have to.”

“I want to. Where else could I be?”

“Dunno… somewhere.”

“Not leaving you alone, pal.”

Bucky smiled weakly.

“Okay.” …

Bucky placed the keys on the table next to the door and kicked off his shoes before plopping on the couch. Sam managed to find it on a garage sale and the thing was the most comfortable piece of furniture Bucky sat his ass on. It helped that it came in his favorite color - blue - and that there were two blankets and couple of pillows that came with it. "C'mere Steve,” Bucky patted the couch. “What do you want to watch?" "Whatever you want Buck." "Okay then." Bucky flipped through channels to see if there was something interesting and he stumbled upon a rerun of ‘Without a trace’. "Haven't seen this show in ages." "Me either." They settled against each other in comfortable silence and as the episode progressed and the FBI found that the girl lied that Dr. Sardo was her biological mother it was race against time to find them both. Bucky inched closer to Steve and placed his head on Steve's shoulder. Steve in turn moved his arm to envelope Bucky in a half-hug. As the episode ended and the credits rolled, Bucky sighed. "Steve, I want to tell you something." Bucky's voice was barely above a whisper and if Steve wasn't so close he would've missed it. "Yeah? What is it?" "I... about Brock. I know I should've told you before that my ex-boyfriend is... a piece of shit." "It's okay, Buck. You don't have to say anything if you-" "I have to. Because I came to realize that the real reason I was holding back was you." Bucky moved his head off of Steve's shoulder to look at Steve. Steve looked surprised, and his face was one big question mark. "I'll get to that... and I'll understand if you won't want to have ties with me after this." "What's wrong Bucky?" "When I," Bucky took a deep breath "when I first met Brock, he was great. Charming, lovely. Someone I could see myself being in a relationship with. He was attentive. Took me to dinner a few games. There were even dates that he whipped out of the blue. I worked at a hardware store before the Stark gig and he'd come there at night. Walk me home. I fell for him. Hard." It was difficult for Bucky to get it out. The way his life seemed to be on the upside one moment and the next it was a giant snowball rolling down a mountain hitting a tree. "It lasted for a while. Before he started acting strange. He worked as a security. Freelance. Started picking odd jobs, coming home bloody and bruised. I had to patch him up." Steve smiled sadly. "Sounds familiar." "Yeah, but that's where the similarities end. You always picked fights to help people that actually needed it. Brock picked fights for those with deeper pockets." "You said..."

“He worked as a security at first, yeah. But while he lied to me it was low security job I learned from someone close to Brock that he was actually roughing up guys that couldn't pay the racket a mob boss wanted from them." "Jesus." "I confronted him. He said it was a lie. I yelled. It ended bad. I left. After a week, he came banging on Sam's door at 2 am. Smelled of cheap booze." "God, Bucky." "He pleaded with me. He promised he won't do it again. I believed him." "Shit." "Yeah... And the second time. And the third. Don't know why... I used to tell myself that it's because people change so maybe he'd go back to that gentleman I fell in love with?" Steve sucked in a sharp breath. To hear Bucky loving someone else than him stung more than every scrape and bruise he got. "I'm not anymore. I think that seeing him today at the restaurant proved that to me. That I fell in love with him right when he started lying to me, and gave empty promises. I gave him so many opportunities Steve..." "What happened Buck?" "He cheated on me. With one of his buddies. I caught them in our bed."

“What?!” Steve was furious. He was ready to go find Brock and give him more than just a punch. "That motherfucker! Why didn't you tell me Buck? You know I... Hell, I wanna beat him so bad. How could he do that to you." Bucky chuckled and shook his head. "It's not worth it." "You are worth it. Everything." "Well he fucked me up. Made me feel like I am not enough for him. Because he found someone else easily..." "God, Bucky." "But, I'm okay now. And maybe, I like to think that what happened between me and Brock and meeting you at that bar - that it was fate." "What are you talking about, Buck?" "Promise me you'll hear me out before... Before you make a decision." "But I don't-" "Promise me?" Steve looked at Bucky. His eyes held so many emotions, and Steve couldn't read most of it. But something in his voice sounded important. Pleading. "I promise." "You remember when I came out?" "Yes." "Remember when I told you that this boy I knew made me realize that I am not straight. Girls didn't do a thing for me Stevie. But this boy - all the fire in his eyes and soul, the spirit. He was small, but with a big heart. The most beautiful golden hair and blue eyes. My best friend." Bucky closed his eyes tight. He wasn't gonna cry. He was not! "What...? Bucky?" "It was you Steve. The boy that made me realize I was gay, it was you. I've loved you since I was 15." "10 years?" Steve opened his mouth and when nothing came out of it, he closed it. Bucky opened his eyes. He willed himself not to waver, holding Steve's eyes with his. "I know what you'll say. You are straight, and I'm your best friend, but the only person I loved my whole life is you. I tried to bury it inside. It hurt so much. To see you flirt with one girl, then another. You may have been small but girls were all over you. You were my Steve but I had to share you with them." "Oh Bucky..." Steve was on the verge of tears himself. "Let me finish, please? Today's encounter with Brock made me realize that I could love again. Another person. But never as much as you. You'll be the first and last. And even if I never have you... I'll manage. I did well until now, right?" Bucky smiled and tried not to gasp as he felt his heart tearing itself on half. "The night you took Peggy on a date I got drunk. Cried so hard I made myself sick. Your mom... she found me in the bathroom, throwing up. Asked me what's wrong. I felt so wrong. So dirty. But I had to tell someone." Steve blinked rapidly but to no avail. A tear slid down his cheek. "She... she told me it's not wrong. And that you loved me too. But I knew that she was just trying to make me feel better. I was a mess." Bucky took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I put all of this on you. Really am. But it's been a long time and the last few months just proved to me that I can't keep it inside anymore." "That's why you looked like a kicked puppy the night I left for LA. When I said I didn't have anything else to tie me to Brooklyn anymore." Bucky nodded unable to speak. "Buck? Look at me." Bucky did. "I wasn't entirely too honest with you about why I returned to Brooklyn. Part of the reason was the disagreement I had with Pierce. The other part... the stronger pull - this person that will always have that effect on me... you Buck. I came back for you." Bucky choked on a sob, unable to hold anymore. It was a rollercoaster of a day. "I've loved you since forever Buck. I thought you'd never see me as more than your best friend." "We are idiots." Bucky managed to choke of before he tried to calm his breathing and wipe tears clumsily. "Yes... I guess we are." ... Another rerun of "Without a trace" ended as Bucky snuggled deeper in Steve's embrace. After they cried their souls out, they cleaned up and returned on the couch. Bucky was not able to do much more than sit and take it all in. He did something brave today. He confessed his love to Steve. And to know Steve felt the same... it was too much. Bucky needed time to process it all. For now he was content in Steve's embrace, listening to his heartbeat. The breaths that came like short gasps evening out. He could stay like this forever. "Buck?" "Hmmm?" "Can I kiss you?" Bucky figured that with all cards open between them both it was the least they could do. "Yes, I'd like that." Steve moved his hand from Bucky's waist. Carding his fingers through Bucky's hair his hand rested on Bucky's jaw. Bucky tilted his head, smiling Steve met him halfway through. The second their lips met, Bucky felt electricity coursing through his body. God, did Steve know how to kiss. Licking at the seams of Bucky's lips, Steve probed with his tongue as Bucky opened up and let Steve lead the tempo. It all ended too soon but Steve needed to take a breath before he kissed Bucky again. Bucky melted. The second kiss was even better than the first and if this was the beginning he couldn't wait to know how the rest of Steve's kisses would feel on him. "I love you Buck." "Love you, Stevie. I think it's long overdue." "Yeah. But we have all the time in the world. I'll never get tired from saying that I love you." "Me either." Steve's stomach decided it was the perfect time for it to growl. They both laughed. …

Eating take out lead to more kisses and a makeout session on the couch. It was like neither Steve nor Bucky could get enough of the other. Bucky suggested they move to the bed. Steve raised a questioning eyebrow and Bucky whacked him with a pillow then told him he planned on full on cuddling with his boyfriend. Similar to that night at Steve's when Steve borrowed Bucky some of his clothes, Bucky gave Steve sweatpants and a t shirt that he deemed good enough to pass for sleep wear. Steve looked at the t shirt that had a picture of koala on it. He smiled softly. "What?" Bucky enquired. "Nothing... just remembered that obsession you had with stuffed bears as a kid. Well bears in general." "I still do..." Bucky blushed as he changed himself in a t shirt that had a polar bear on it. "Where are they?" "I... didn't take much when I moved out with Brock. Now that I think of it, I don't know what he's done with my stuff." "We can go get them together. In my opinion, if there's still some part of the person he was before all this? He hasn't touched anything." "Thank you, Steve." "Always." ... In the morning Bucky woke up with Steve draped all over him. One look at the man he gave his heart to, long before today, and Bucky felt warm and fuzzy, full of life and love, a new hope on the horizon.

Bucky got all that he wanted and needed right there with him. And it was enough.

...

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