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blurredcolour · 9 months ago

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II. "Just Had To Trust You."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

John "Bucky" Egan x WAC!Female Reader

The second half of August brings with it the horrors of the Regensburg/Schweinfurt mission, Bucky's absence in Africa, and two smaller missions in France. With this as the backdrop to your blossoming relationship, the pair of you find creative ways to connect with one another.

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Death, Grief, Minor Bucky Injury, Blood, Scars, Minor Reader Injury, Hospital Setting, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [thigh riding, inexperienced reader, allusion to male masturbation] - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for the warm reception you gave part one. That combined with my evil brain has given us a full series! Just a reminder that reader has been given a brother for sake of plot. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6713

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The day of August 17th dawned so thick with fog, it was difficult to tell it had even dawned at all. The walk from your quarters to the mess and then onto the control tower was fraught with anxiety – the fear that a vehicle might suddenly appear behind you through the milky atmosphere driving you to constantly glance back over your shoulder. Eventually, you decided to walk just alongside the road through the damp grass, listening to it squeak against the leather of your shoes, the only sound around you once you parted ways with your friends.

Cutting across the field in front of the equipment hangar, you gasped as Bucky stepped out of the mists in front of you like some kind of apparition from a ghost story. You gulped harshly at the way your stomach dropped in response to that mental imagery.

“Morning, doll. Seems like someone left the soup on the stove a little too long.”

You managed a chuckle, taking in his flight suit, his life jacket – or Mae West as the boys called them. He was flying today then. “I’m sure it’ll clear up soon, Major Egan.”

His lips twitched fondly, and he stepped closer to murmur in your ear, the fine hairs of his moustache tickling the delicate skin there. “See you in a few days, doll.”

“Take care, Bucky.” You whispered emphatically in return, and he stepped back to reach into his flight bag, producing the book you had lent him.

“I’ll have that answer for you promptly on my return, Lieutenant.”

You grinned softly. “I expect you will, Major.”

You turned to watch him go as he took long, easy strides to join his crew waiting on the truck to be driven out to their plane, disappearing in a swirl of persistent, pervasive fog. “I’ll see you soon.” You murmured after him.

Seven days.

Seven agonizing days of little news and empty skies passed as you impatiently awaited his return. The decision to send the group destined for Regensburg nearly five hours ahead of those bound for Schweinfurt had been catastrophic. It took almost seventy-two hours for the 12th to reach those who had made it to Telergma, and when numbers and names finally made their way back to Thorpe Abbotts, the cost of it all sunk in like a stone.

Rather than wasting the return trip to East Anglia, it was decided the survivors would undertake a retaliatory strike against some Luftwaffe bases in Bordeaux, one more hurdle to clear before they made it back to safety. It was mid-afternoon on August 24th by the time the droning of plane engines filled the air once again. Taking a steadying breath, you grit your teeth and forced yourself to focus on the keys of your typewriter as the brass all hustled outside to count the number of returnees.

‘Please let Bucky be among them. Please let him be unharmed.’ You had closed your eyes briefly to send up your silent prayer before launching back into your work.

It was nearly an hour later when, report finished, you tucked the neatly typed sheets of paper into their folder to deliver to Colonel Harding and stood only to meet the eyes of one Major John Egan through the window overlooking the Operations Room. He looked weary, sunburnt, with cuts and abrasions adorning his face and neck, unsteady on his feet, but nevertheless flashed you a brilliant, devil-may-care smile.

‘Thank you…thank you for bringing him back to me.’

You exhaled deeply for the first time in over a week, the folder nearly slipping from your fingers, contents nearly scattering across the floor. Mercifully, you managed to avoid that outcome, albeit with a fair bit of fumbling, tucking it securely against your side to prevent further mishaps. The next time you looked to Bucky he was smirking at you, eyes twinkling knowingly, before he gestured with his head toward where the washrooms were. Glancing at your colleagues, heads bent diligently over their work, you looked back to him and raised a finger to beg for one moment.

He nodded in silent understanding, sauntering toward the hallway casually. You took a moment before letting your desk mate know you were delivering a file and then taking a bathroom break. She nodded vaguely as you headed across the room to place the folder in the outbox before making your way to the washrooms. Furrowing your brows in confusion as you found the corridor empty, you barely managed to smother your startled cry as Bucky poked his head out of the janitor’s closet and pulled you into the cramped space with him.

“Bucky!” You hissed as he pressed you back against the door, his lips pressing tightly against yours, silencing any further admonishment you might have been able to summon.

Clinging the to straps of his harness, you rocked up onto the balls of your feet, pressing flush against him, a wordless expression of the gratitude you felt for his safe return. He had barely parted his lips when you mirrored the movement, welcoming his tongue with your own. A soft grunt of pleasure left his nose, his fingers digging into your hips tightly. The telltale tinge of copper seeped into the kiss, making you pull back sharply, groping for the pull string on the lightbulb dangling from the ceiling behind him.

You frowned deeply to see his lower lip was oozing blood. “You should go to the hospital, Bucky, you’re still bleeding…”

“M’fine.” He rumbled tiredly, cupping the back of your head gently as his thumb traced your left eyebrow.

You sighed softly, leaning into his touch as your eyes slid closed.

“My definitive answer is Blood Pressure.” He spoke in a hushed tone and your eyes fluttered open in confusion.

“What?”

His other hand left your hip to dig into the pocket of his flight jacket, producing the borrowed book, holding it out to you with a satisfied grin.

“You’ve already read the whole thing again?!” You gasped, eyes wide.

“Couldn’t very well keep you waiting now, could I?” He smirked and stole another kiss.

“I’m going back to my desk and you’re going to the hospital, please?” You looked to him pleadingly.

He sighed heavily. “That look is utterly unfair, doll…particularly in my condition.”

Your lips twitched slightly as you fought the urge to smile, doing your utmost to hold the plaintive expression until he huffed and pressed one last, copper-laced, sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Fine.” He conceded and you pressed your lips to his forehead tenderly.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

Slipping from his arms reluctantly, you peered out into the hallway before making a dash into the washroom, cleaning your face of his blood and tidying your hair and uniform before rushing back to your desk, hoping he would hold up his end of the bargain.

Judging from how well he healed over the next few days, you were fairly convinced he had done as you asked. His lips had healed to their normal supple perfection, though it seemed he would be left with a few scars across his nose, cheek, and forehead. Unfortunately, you had not been able to sneak a moment to confirm if he had indeed gone to visit the hospital or not. When your duties did not occupy you, it seemed that his did and vice versa. Passing glances or encounters while surrounded by colleagues seemed to be all the fates afforded you the rest of the week.

The effect it had on your mood was something that did not escape Mary, Vi, and Ruth – for despite your best efforts to conceal your activities, they had been onto you since you had returned from that eventful trip to the pub.

“We’ll just have to make sure you’re simply irresistible at tonight’s dance, then.” Mary grinned darkly upon your return to your shared quarters that Friday, a dangerous gleam in her eye as she closed in on you with Vi at her elbow.

“Oh yes, Mary, a little feminine revenge ought to remind the Major of his priorities.” She drawled, arms suddenly loaded with supplies – from where they had appeared, you were not entirely sure.

You landed heavily on your bottom upon your cot, staring up at them warily as Ruth laughed from her perch across the way.

“Just give in, darling, it’ll be less painful that way.” Came her friendly advice, though her words did not prove at all true.

There was next to no consideration for your comfort while your hair was combed and restyled, hisses of pain escaping your lips as a plethora of pins scraped along your scalp as they were pushed into place to secure the style they were creating.

“Beauty is pain, darling.” Vi pursed her lips in mock sympathy, but you were altogether relieved when they declared their creation stable and moved onto your makeup.

Somehow, despite their dedication to perfecting your look for the evening, and then freshening up a little themselves, the four of you still managed to arrive at the officer’s club before Bucky and many of the men. Securing a martini and your favorite spot along the wall, you forcefully shooed them off to dance with the early arrivals who quickly approached them. You glass was roughly a third empty when Bucky arrived with his best friend Buck and their tight knit group. All eyes turned toward him, as always, that infectious grin and magnetism making him ever popular.

Now that he had arrived, the party would truly begin. Taking a deep sip of your drink, you nearly choked as his eyes met yours and he made a beeline straight for you. Swallowing roughly, your eyes widened as he plucked the glass from your grasp to set it on a nearby table before holding out his hand to you expectantly.

“I’m not very good at this…” You warned him softly, voice a bit thick from your battle to swallow your drink.

“All you gotta do is hold on, doll, I’ll do the rest.” He winked and wrapped his fingers around yours once you finally set your hand in his.

Leading you onto the dancefloor, he pulled you close, one hand at your waist, the other holding yours out to the side. Bucky grinned at you warmly as he began to lead you across the floor confidently, and you clung to his shoulder, feeling the eyes of almost everyone on you. His actions were so public in contrast to the moments you had shared previously. So very declarative. It took a lot of strength not to hide against his shoulder from all the attention the pair of you were receiving. Even your friends were shooting you grins and nods and little victory signals from behind him.

“You got all dolled up tonight, is there a mission I should know about?” He teased gently, immediately pulling you from your thoughts.

“I was ambushed.” You huffed ruefully.

“Ah, so this mission has already been carried out.” Bucky smirked, lips stretching wider as you laughed softly, relaxing somewhat in his arms as he continued to lead you confidently. “You look gorgeous…can’t wait to get that lipstick all over my face again.” He hummed against your ear, and you smacked his shoulder playfully even as your pulse jumped at your throat, feeling his laughter shake through him.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, Kidd thought it was the perfect moment to launch into an excruciating meeting about…well I wasn’t listening, quite honestly.” He smirked, making you shake your head fondly.

“You ought to listen to the man, he is your Air Exec you know…” You teased gently.

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. “I was too busy thinking about how I’d rather be doing this, right here, right now, with you.”

You met his eyes briefly, startled by the transparency of his statement, before glancing away, teeth buried in your lip in a vain attempt to moderate your rapid heartbeat.

Bucky kept you on the dancefloor for at least five more songs, until your feet started to hurt, your legs getting heavy. “Let’s get you another drink.” He kissed your temple and slid his arm around your waist, leading you to the bar. He ordered a whisky for himself and another martini for you, finding a table in the corner and sitting in the chair right beside you. “For someone who claimed to be not very good at dancing, you held your own, doll.”

You smiled at him shyly. “Just had to trust you.” His resulting grin made you bow your head in response to its brilliance, shivering as his hand squeezed your knee beneath the shelter of the tablecloth.

Taking a steadying sip of your drink, you glanced at him through your lashes, biting your lip at his eyes had never left you, his fingers tightening where they still rested over your skirt. You glanced to the side, suddenly afraid you might forget how to breathe under the intensity of his gaze, sucking in a somewhat ragged breath as you watched another couple canoodling in the opposite corner of the room. There was nothing subtle about the way they were pressed against one another, despite the very public place in which they found themselves, and you averted your gaze yet again to watch the bartender mixing drinks as you sipped yours steadily.

The resulting loosening of your muscles as the alcohol reached your extremities gave you the courage to look in Bucky’s direction once more, taking in his profile as he eyed the dancefloor, toe tapping to the beat. His arm was slung over the back of your chair, an action you had no memory of, and he was slouched low in his seat, legs spread wide. His posture was altogether too inviting, and had you gnawing on your lip once more, yet unable to tear your eyes away despite the alarm bells ringing inside your head.

“See something you like, doll?” Bucky’s voice in your ear made you jump. Made you wonder when he had closed the distance.

You hoped, briefly, that the Luftwaffe might indulge you by dropping a bomb directly on your head right then. No such luck. Bucky’s hand slid higher on your leg to squeeze your thigh, forcing you to raise your gaze to meet his. His normally stormy blue eyes were notably darker, pinning you to the spot as his tongue darted out to wet his slightly parted lips.

“Come on.” He spoke suddenly, sliding to his feet and holding out his hand again.

Following him back to the dancefloor, you gasped audibly as he pulled you improperly close, his hand splaying against your lower back as his cheek pressed against yours. “After this song, meet me at our bench. I’ll be five minutes behind you.” His lips brushed against your skin as he spoke, making your feet clumsy.

Bucky simply pulled you closer in response, bearing more of your weight to keep you dancing smoothly as you somehow managed a nod in agreement, heart hammering in your ears. There was no mission tomorrow, the control tower would be relatively quiet, and therefore so would the bench outback where you had shared your conversation about Runyon’s book. As the band wound down their tune, Bucky shuffled the pair of you to the edge of the floor, kissing your cheek softly.

“Goodnight, doll.”

You exhaled shakily, nodding as you mentally reached down to the bottom of your toes to summon your voice. “Night, Bucky.”

He gave you a crooked smile and one more kiss on the cheek before releasing you gently, watching patiently as you lurched into motion, heading toward the door and out into the relatively cooler night air. Making your way along the road, you swallowed back a curse as your eyes met those of your Captain who was standing watch over the route to the women’s quarters.

“Evening, Ma’am.” You saluted quickly.

“Lieutenant.” Captain Miller nodded crisply watching you continue on before you cut around behind the barracks and circled back toward the control tower to meet Bucky.

Due to the necessitated detour, he was already there, waiting, hands on his hips, shoulders slightly raised with tension. You frowned guiltily and crept up to gently set a hand on his arm, feeling him jump.

“Sorry, I had to appease the dragon-lady, she saw me leave and I–”

He nodded once before kissing you fiercely, making you sigh heavily against his lips. Sliding your arms around his neck, you allowed your fingertips to brush against the curls at the nape of his neck. His chest rumbled happily, his tongue tasting so sharply of whisky as it slid along yours that you wondered if he had taken those five extra minutes to have one more drink before following you.

“Thought you’d changed your mind, doll.” He grinned against your lips before he began to nibble along your jaw, sending ripples of gooseflesh down your neck.

“Uh-uh.” You breathed, gripping the skin of his neck as your knees felt about ready to give out.

“Just hold on tight.” He tilted his head to suck at your earlobe, gripping your hips as he slowly sank down to sit on the bench behind him, pulling you with him.

His hands slid further down your legs, guiding them apart to straddle his thigh, pushing your skirt higher to allow you to settle snuggly against his broad quadricep. Your jaw dropped open as your core pressed tightly against him, a mortifying squeak-like sound escaping your throat.

“Yeah?” He smirked, kissing back towards your lips. “Figured by the way you were staring you might want to give it a whirl.”

If you had been able to speak, his mouth would have swallowed any reply that you could have summoned as it sealed tightly over yours once more. As it was, you brain was filled with static like a wireless that could not quite be tuned to a frequency. Your predicament only worsened as his fingers curled into your hips, ever so slowly rocking them forward against him, making you whimper raggedly. The sensation was only outdone by the feeling of him dragging you backward, the friction causing an unspeakable reaction to roll through your body.

“That feel good, doll?” Bucky rasped against your lips, and you nodded rapidly, mewling as he repeated the motion, though you also began to move of your own volition, chasing the feeling needily. “Sorry, didn’t quite catch that.” He teased and you tugged at the hair peaking out the back of his cap.

“Yes!” You gasped sharply before kissing him hungrily, your leg accidentally brushing against the bulge at the apex of his thighs, shuddering at the groan you earned from him in kind.

Perhaps it made you a wicked woman to take satisfaction in giving him pleasure, but it went to your head faster than any martini you had ever consumed. Digging the toes of your shoes into the grass, you shuffled closer to him so your thigh might brush against his length with each of your self-serving motions.

“Christ, doll.” He growled under his breath.

“Feel…good?” You panted teasingly, biting your lip at his ragged laugh.

“People underestimate you at their own goddamn peril.” He nipped at your chin, breath fanning hotly down your neck as you worked your body against his thigh with increasing need. “Try…this…” He grunted and tilted your pelvis forward.

You slumped forward against his chest, mouth gaping in a silent moan at the intense pleasure radiating from the new point of pressure. Legs nearly giving out from the blinding power of it, you were immensely grateful when Bucky obligingly kept on guiding your hips, continuing to pull the strings of tension tighter and tighter within your body.

“B…Bucky…” You gasped against his neck as your thighs began to tremble, on the precipice of something, wondering if this is what it felt like just before a B17 lifted off the runway.

“Go on, doll, it’s gonna be great.” He rumbled, pace not slackening, though his arms must have surely been aching by that point.

Inhaling sharply, you pressed your face tighter to his neck, desperately trying to smother your cry of pleasure as every string of tension snapped inside you with the force and brilliance of a fireworks display on the fourth of July. Melting against him, you were naught but a shuddering mess, underwear ruined, struggling to satisfy your body’s demand for oxygen as you gasped for breath. Bucky’s grip eased on your hips, his hands shifting to caress your back tenderly as he kissed down your temple to your cheek.

“As promised?” He cooed and you shivered at the feeling of his breath against your skin, every sensation still heightened.

“Better.” You licked your lips and dropped your hands to his chest, slowly pushing yourself up to sit properly, shuddering at the pressure against your still throbbing parts.

“Here, doll.” He carefully lifted you up to swing your legs across his lap carefully. “Take it easy.” He kissed your cheek tenderly, squeezing your side.

You sighed softly, swallowing thickly as you lifted your eyes to his. “People underestimate your sweetness at a great loss to themselves, Bucky.” Cupping his cheek, you guided his mouth to yours to place a gentle, appreciative kiss on his lips.

Feeling the curl of his smile, you could not help but echo the expression, breaking the seal of your mouth against his.

“Our little secret.” He teased, voice still raspy.

Hearing the crunch of footsteps on the gravel path leading up to the control tower, you tensed against him, frowning as you became acutely aware of the persistent problem that remained in his trousers.

“We should go.” He whispered and you nodded quickly.

“Sorry you’re still…” You trailed off, sliding onto oddly unstable legs, grateful for his bracing hands on your hips as he rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry about me, doll, I can take care of myself.” He pressed his lips to your ear after uttering his quiet statement, making you swallow almost painfully as your mouth went dry.

You lost all ability to function for a moment, swept up in the lurid possibilities contained in that simple phrase, before the sound of a door opening cut through the night, and your stupor.

“Night.” You whispered sharply before sprinting off towards the barracks, keeping to the edges of the field and hoping to stay out of sight.

Luck, it seemed, was not on your side, as Captain Miller called your name just a few feet shy of your quarters. You had been so very close. Turning quickly to face her, you scrambled for some excuse as to why you were not on the other side of the door behind you.

“Lieutenant, did you get lost on your way over here?” She arched an eyebrow coldly and you had to remind yourself the mechanics involved in a proper breath.

‘Inhale. Pause. Exhale.’

“No, Ma’am, I just…realized when I got back here that Vi had asked me to be sure she didn’t stay out too late, and that I had left without her.”

Captain Miller’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “And where is your Georgian, troublemaking friend now, hmm?”

The lie had come so naturally, had been so plausible, but now that you were wrapped up in it, it felt like it might just drag you down to the bottom like an anchor.

“I’m here, Captain Miller, Ma’am.” Came a cheery call from further up the path, you friend still cloaked by darkness but by some miracle, arriving just in time to save your hide.

An exhale of annoyance escaped Captain Miller’s nostrils as she whipped back to see Vi, arm linked with Ruth’s, sauntering over to your shared quarters.

“Thank you again, darling, for reminding me to come back on time.” She gave you a tremendous, edging on comical, wink and it was all you could do not to grimace.

You may have been off the hook with Captain Miller, but Vi would surely exact a price for this rescue.

“To bed with you all, then, ladies.” Your Captain grunted and the three of you delivered a set of sharp salutes before ducking into your hut quickly.

“All the gory details, now, darling, or Captain Miller will learn just what you’ve been up to, and I’m certain it’s far from innocent.” Vi grinned wickedly as she dragged you to sit on her cot between herself and Ruth.

You were reticent to share the gory details, wanting to keep the taste of him on your lips, the way it felt to be pressed again him, as just yours. But there was a part of you that revelled in the telling of the simplified, polished version of your encounter on the bench behind the control tower the pair of you called ‘yours.’ And it certainly seemed to satisfy your debt, both Ruth and Vi grinning, crowing in glee by the time you got to Vi’s rescue.

“Our darling dark horse, unexpected champion at taming the rogue Major Egan.”

You scoffed and shook your head shyly. “I doubt that I’ve tamed him, Vi…” You protested but she just smirked with a tilt of her head.

“I’m willing to bet money on that fact, but I suppose time will tell.” She winked dramatically and you just rolled your eyes.

Within four days, Bucky was on his way back to France. The target was an aircraft factory in Rouen near Paris. Of those chosen, you undoubtedly preferred the targets closer to England. The flying time was shorter and thereby so was the period of wondering and waiting. Strategically, you absolutely understood the importance of the targets deep in Germany, but if the Regensburg raid had carried any lessons, it was that those targets were invariably the costliest.

Hoping to catch a glimpse of him before he went up, you retraced your steps, following the same path you had on the morning of the seventeenth, cutting in front of the equipment hangar. The feeling of a leather-clad hand seizing yours and tugging you behind the building had you gasping in surprise before you laid eyes on your target, grinning slightly at your success.

“Morning, doll.” Bucky murmured and kissed you quickly.

You allowed his lips to linger on yours for several seconds before pulling back quickly to glance around, checking if you had been spotted. “Be safe up there, Bucky.” You swallowed and he nodded.

“Think you could wear that lipstick again for me later? It sure looked nice all over my neck.” He smirked broadly as your jaw dropped in response, lifting a hand to smack his shoulder.

“Don’t push your luck.” You chided, wagging a finger playfully, and he laughed brightly in reply, lips meeting your cheek before he strolled over to the waiting crew truck.

You watched him go from your obscured vantage point, waiting until the vehicle had pulled away before you turned to continue on your way to your desk.

“Lieutenant?”

You jumped and turned to see the post clerk, Petty, hurrying towards you with a letter in his hand.

“Letter for you, Ma’am.”

“Thank you very much, Sergeant.” You smiled. “Did you manage to get the boys first?” You asked curiously, and he nodded so quickly you were worried his head might fall right off his shoulders.

“Yes Ma’am, got ‘em at breakfast.” His boyish grin of pride was infectious, tugging at the corners of your mouth, briefly easing the tension that seeped into your bones on mission days.

“Well done, Sergeant. Have a good day!” You returned the quick salute he gave you before he hurried on his way, heavy bag hefted over his shoulder.

Glancing over the envelope you swallowed as it appeared to be written in your father’s handwriting rather than your mother’s – unusual. She was often the one to manage the letter writing and mailing process and he would add a paragraph or two depending on what was happening back home that he thought would be of interest to you. Swallowing down your sense of unease, you slid the envelope into your pocket to focus on the mission. The letter had already taken several weeks to reach you, a few more hours would not make any difference.

Shortly after noon, they were already back; Colonel Harding walking past the office muttering about Major Egan’s displeasure in the weather. It seemed only one plane had been able to drop their bombs, and not even on the primary target. Exhaling deeply to hear confirmation of his return, the ever-present feeling of the envelope in your pocket suddenly took on an immense weight. Claiming an upset stomach, which only garnered a knowing grin from your desk mate, you excused yourself to step out back, wandering to the edge of the field to tear into the flap with somewhat savage impatience. Heart in your throat, your shaking fingers pulled the folded paper from within its confines and your eyes began scanning across the page rapidly, your sense of unease cresting like a tidal wave.

I need you to be very brave for me now, dear girl…

Your father’s words blurred in front of your eyes behind a sudden influx of tears. You did not even need to read the rest of the sentence to know. Perhaps you had known all morning – since Petty had set the envelope in your hand. Your brother was gone. Most likely had been for weeks, for all the time it had taken the news to reach you, across one ocean and then another. An agonized sob clawed its way up your throat, and you quickly pressed a hand over your mouth to smother it, taking off running towards your quarters, trying desperately to keep your grief at bay until you could be alone.

Eyes barely open, running across rough ground, it was no surprise when your foot snagged on some unseen obstacle, wrenching your right ankle and sending your sprawling across the grass and partially onto a pathway. Your right knee dashed against something sharp, your hands flying forward to catch your body, the letter you had been clasping fluttering to the ground beside you. The gravel bit angrily against your palms as it chewed its way into your tender flesh, and you could feel the warm trickle of blood soaking into your ruined right stocking. The shock and pain of your collision with the earth overthrew your ability to control your emotions and a strangled sob of anguish, frustration, and loss flew from your lips.

“God…dammit…” You gasped out, suddenly furious with the universe at large.

You had never known a world without your brother. His existence was a constant you had apparently come to rely on, and now that he had been wrenched from this plane, you were not certain what you could believe in at all. Allowing just a few tears to escape began an unstoppable chain reaction, your shoulders shaking as you remained sprawled across the ground, clenching fistfuls of gravel as you gave into your grief. It was utterly self-indulgent. You were not the first woman to have lost a brother to this ugly war, but he was yours and he was gone.

‘Get. Up.’ The lone, rational part of your brain chided. ‘Your father needs you to be brave. You’re making a goddamn scene. Get. Up. You petulant child. What if someone sees you.’

Like some kind of prophecy, you heard the quizzical call of your name. You could only hope the owner of that voice was still far enough away for you to make your escape. Sniffling sharply, almost painfully, to try and stem the flow of tears, you tried desperately to struggle to your feet. Your knee throbbed in protest, your ankle wobbling unsteadily, your palms stung in pain, and all you managed was to roll onto your backside.

A pair of strong, familiar arms slid around your waist, pulling you back into a warm chest, the fleece of his collar brushing against your damp cheeks.

“I’ve got you doll.” Bucky murmured into your hair, and you shuddered, fighting back the urge to simply break down sobbing once more.

Holding out your hands awkwardly in front of you, trying to minimize the transfer of blood onto your respective uniforms, you leaned back into his warmth despite the fact that it was a sunny August day.

“Let’s get you to the doctor.” His voice was tense, wound tight with concern, and absent his usually playfulness as he slowly eased you to your feet.

“I’m fine.” You tried to protest, but an inadvertent whimper escaped your mouth as you tried to bear weight on your right leg.

“The hell you are.” He growled a little, pulling your arm over his shoulders, sliding his own arm around your waist, practically hefting you against his body.

As he turned to begin walking you down the path, you gasped to see your abandoned letter tumbling through the grass on the breeze.

“My letter!”

“I got it.” He grunted and set you down, fetching it quickly and shoving it in his pocket before lifting you up against him once more, helping you towards the hospital.

“I’m sorry…” You whispered, keeping your gaze on the ground as you hobbled along beside him, not wanting to meet the eyes of anyone you may have passed along the way.

“Got nothing to apologize for, doll.” He shook his head, assisting you through the doors and into the building that smelled sharply of disinfectant.

“What about the blood on your clothes?” You protested.

“Probably mine.”

You looked to him quickly, frowning at the mirthless smile he delivered – an empty attempt at his usual humor. You noted he did seem to be in one piece, thankfully.

“What on earth…” Gasped the nurse on duty at the front desk as she hurried forward to slide your other arm over her shoulders, leading the pair of you to a bed in triage where she quickly began to remove your ruined stocking and deal with your still-bleeding knee. “This is probably going to need stitches, Lieutenant.”

You nodded silently, frowning down at her as she began to pluck the debris from your hands.

“What’s happened, Lieutenant?” A new voice joined the conversation, and you looked up to see one of the doctors, denoted by his white coat, had come to stand beside the nurse while Bucky loomed in the background, arms crossed, brow furrowed as he watched on intensely.

“Got some bad news, sir.” You replied, seizing the inside of your cheek between your teeth to deliver a sharp, steadying bite to your flesh as your lower lip wobbled traitorously. “It made me clumsy, and I tripped.”

You watched Bucky’s face somber even further than it already was, his arms unfolding to fall at his sides, though his fists remained clenched. You looked away quickly as you were certain he had been able to do the math. To figure out just what terrible news had driven you to your current state and you could not endure his look of sympathy – not and remain collected.

“We’ll take good care of her, Major.” The doctor said in a kind yet obvious dismissal and there was a moment of silence before you heard Bucky approach the side of your bed, pressing his lips to your temple.

“I’m going to let that terrifying Captain of yours know that you won’t be working the rest of the day.” He spoke softly, for only you to hear, and your head whipped to look at him, startled that he would dare take on Captain Miller.

Your eyes fell on the lingering marks on his cheek and nose from the Regensburg raid, wanting to protest, but on finding you simply did not have the energy to fight him, you conceded with a nod. By the time he returned, no more than thirty minutes later, you were cleaned, stitched, and bandaged with a tensor wrap on your ankle and a set of crutches.

“You need to keep off that ankle as much as possible, Lieutenant.” Doctor McLean, it turned out his name was, instructed.

“Yes, sir.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem, Doc, I’ll make sure she gets where she needs to go.” Bucky chimed in and you looked to him, surprised he had returned so quickly.

“Thank you Major, with that in mind, you are free to go young lady. Keep to the pathways moving forward, please?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated and used the crutches to rise to your feet, tucking them into your armpits to make slow progress toward the door.

Bucky followed along, patiently, removing any obstacles from your path before gesturing at the waiting jeep out front.

“Your chariot, doll.”

You looked to him skeptically. “I highly doubt this would be considered an appropriate use of army property, Major Egan.”

He shrugged. “No one else was using it, come on.” He guided you around to the passenger’s side, helping you onto the bench seat before taking your crutches to stash in the back. “You really, ok?” He asked quietly as he came to sit in the driver’s seat.

Nodding softly, you squeezed his hand as his fingers laced briefly with yours until he was forced to take it back to drive the vehicle. The trip to your quarters was markedly shorter thanks to the jeep, and you were unspeakably relieved to not have had to face it on crutches alone. Turning to thank Bucky, you blinked as he was already climbing out, bringing your crutches around.

“If you get caught in this area…”

“I’m assisting you to your quarters after an injury.” He insisted stubbornly and held them out to you.

You glanced around slowly before taking them, sliding to your feet carefully before making your way inside, once again grateful for his assistance as you hobbled over to your cot and sat heavily.

“Thank you, Bucky, you’ve been a really big help, but if you’re caught in here someone is going to murder you…”

He came to rest on his knees beside your bed, clearly choosing not to hear, or simply not caring about, your continued warnings. You pressed your lips together tightly, tucking them between your teeth as he produced your father’s letter from his pocket, setting it on the blanket beside you.

“I’m real sorry about your brother, doll.” He said quietly, forehead creased with unmasked sympathy. Your defences promptly crumbled, tears welling in your eyes and promptly spilling down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, shhh.” He shifted to quickly sit beside you, cradling you across his lap, holding you close as you turned your face to sob into his chest, fingers twisting into the fleece lining of his jacket where it hung open.

You lost all track of time in his arms, feeling safe enough to simply let your emotions run their course, have their way with you, in the privacy of your quarters. Thus, it was a surprise when you heard the gently clearing of Mary’s throat, lifting your head quickly to see her holding out one of her immaculate hankies while politely keeping her gaze on the rustic ceiling above.

“I have it on good authority that Captain Miller will be checking in on our darling Lieutenant shortly, so you may want to make yourself scarce, Major.” Her tone was warm and conspiratorial.

“Thank you, Mary.” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while, voice somewhat roughened by disuse. “I’ll see you for your ride to breakfast, doll.”

“Bucky, that’s really not necessary–”

“She usually eats at 0545.” Mary cut you off, clearly allying herself with him and against you. “Now I’ll take it from here.”

You huffed affectionately as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “You rest.”

“You, too.” You insisted stubbornly, feeling somewhat encouraged when he bestowed a smirk on you in response, sliding you from his lap onto the cot carefully and making his way out to remove himself and the jeep before your Captain could find him where he ought not to be.

“What was that you were saying to Vi and Ruth about not having tamed him?” Mary smirked, grabbing the hanky to begin dabbing at your cheeks with motherly roughness.

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

Read Part Three - "Trust Me, He's In Good Hands."

"Trust" Series Masterlist

Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @precious-little-scoundrel, @rubyfruitjungle, @storysimp

#john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #john egan fic #john egan imagine #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfiction

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homeofthelonelywriter · 3 months ago

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Your lips | Epilogue

(A/N) Here is that epilogue. Hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregnancy, kissis, birth and everything it entails

Synopsis: Your baby is here. How will your life turn out.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

“Heard someone is getting ready to go home?”

You looked up, smiling at John who was standing in the doorway to your hospital room. He was grinning from ear to ear as his eyes fell on the little bundle of joy in your arms.

“We sure are. Simon is filling out all the paperwork right now, he should be back in a few.”

John nodded and walked up to the bed you were sitting on. He sat down next to you and peered at your daughter who was sleeping.

“Oh look at her, precious little thing. She healthy?”

You nodded, your eyes returning to your baby girl, gently stroking her little soft cheek.

“She is perfect.”

John nodded but quickly got to his feet when Simon entered the room.

“Love, I need to put in her name here. Have you decided yet?”

Once he spotted John, he nodded in greeting before focusing his attention back on you. You smiled up at him, before looking back at your baby. Love swelled in your heart as you took in her features.

“Annie.”

You looked up at Simon, taking in his expression. His eyes were wide in surprise before they relaxed and the skin around them crinkled as he smiled at you.

“Okay.”

With another glance at you, he left the room and returned to fill out the paperwork. John just looked at you confused. He had never seen his Lieutenant so soft.

“It’s his mother’s name.”

John’s eyes widened before he nodded with a smile.

“Good choice.”

A few hours later

“She’s finally out.”

Simon looked exhausted as he walked into the living room. He had just spent the last hour or so rocking your baby to sleep. You tried to tell him that you could do it, but he insisted, wanting to spend some time with his little girl. The second he called her that, you knew that you would spend the rest of your life with that man.

Instead of responding, you just opened your arms in a silent invitation. And like you suspected, he immediately laid down, resting his head on your chest. Your fingers immediately started combing through his hair, softly scratching at his scalp.

“I love you.”

He raised his head to look at you, a soft smile on his face.

“I love you too, Si.”

A few years later

“She’s finally out.”

You chuckled, Simon saying the same thing every time he’d finally get your daughter to go to sleep, ever since day one. Within a second, you felt his arms wrap around your waist and pull you back into his chest. His lips quickly found your neck as he started trailing kisses up and down.

“Simon.”

You were laughing, reaching back with your still-wet hand, from doing the dishes. He just hummed against your skin, a smile spreading on his face, as you gently pulled at his hair. You needed to get his attention before his charm pulled you under.

“Si, wait.”

He kept going, so you quickly spun around in his arms to stop him, smiling when he grumbled in annoyance.

“There is plenty of time for that later. I need to tell you something.”

He reluctantly let go of you, giving you the chance to turn off the faucet, before grabbing his hand and pulling him into the living room, where you quickly sat down on the couch, pulling him with you. Once the two of you were sitting, you started to grow nervous, not sure how he’d take the news. Sure, you had been talking about it for a bit, but it was never a serious conversation or anything like that.

“Love? Where’d you go?”

He reached up and gently stroked your cheek, pulling you back to reality.

“I’m sorry, I…”

Simon’s eyebrows pulled together in a frown, concern starting to show on his face.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, swallowing and taking a deep breath before looking him in the eyes.

“I’m pregnant. It’s still early, but I just found out yesterday, and-”

“You’re pregnant?”

You nodded, not sure what else to do.

“You sure?”

You nodded again. Then there was silence for a few moments and you started to grow nervous. But then Simon jumped to his feet, pulling you up as well before he picked you up and spun you around.

“You’re pregnant. You’re pregnant!”

You started to chuckle, all anxiety leaving your body as you looked into his overjoyed eyes. He kept spinning you, until you gently slapped his shoulder, asking him to stop as you were starting to grow nauseous.

Simon set you down for a second, before pulling you into a tight hug. You returned the hug, smiling against his chest as you felt his lips against your hair.

“I love you so damn much.”

“I love you too Simon. More than I ever thought possible.”

You kept holding each other for a few moments before Simon spoke up.

“It they’re a boy…can we call him Tommy?”

You smiled up at him.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @brinteylovesaliens @m3ntally-unstable @gingergirl06

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#ghost #ghost x reader #ghost fanfiction #ghost cod #cod #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #fanfiction

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jerzwriter · 4 months ago

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A million years ago, someone asked me if I'd write a series that mimicked canon but with Tobias Carrick as head of the Edenbrook Diagnostic Team. While I don't have the bandwidth to take on a series at this point, as I'm doing my Open Heart re-read, I will rewrite select scenes that I think could be interesting.

The first one is that first night at Donahue's. I may have forced myself to finish this tonight just so I could read @alj4890's version before I go to bed tonight! lol Amanda, my fellow Tobias ho, I'm so glad you're taking this trip with me.

Book: Open Heart Book 1 / Chapter 2 That first night at Donahue's Pairing: Tobias Carrick x Casey MacTavish (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,445 Series: If it were canon... AU Summary: Casey and her new friends are celebrating their first day as interns at the renowned Edenbrook Hospital. When her attending, Dr. Tobias Carrick arrives, he can't take his eyes off the beautiful young woman, even though he knows he should. When she joins him for a drink, will the two of them be able to fight their attraction? Or will they give in?

A/N: Participating in the @julychallenge Pink: Playfulness, Warmth Black: Attraction

After a grueling sixteen-hour shift, Dr. Tobias Carrick opened the door to Donahue’s, desperate for a brief escape. He hadn’t been to his usual watering hole for the past couple of weeks, not since his messy breakup with the pretty nurse from Peds. He knew the probability of her tossing a glass of Merlot onto his expensive threads was real and best to be avoided. But tonight marked his grand return. Tonight, his need for relaxation made the threat of a hefty dry cleaning bill worthwhile.

It hadn’t been your typical day. The universe decided that the usual life-or-death matters weren't enough. So, it threw in a new class of interns and all the “joy” that came with them. There was a surprise visit from the Director of the Board and, to add insult to injury, a long phone call with his mother. Yes, tonight, he needed the poor lighting and the scent of stale beer that only his home away from home could provide. He nodded to Reggie as he settled onto his barstool, and within moments, his usual drink appeared. Finally, he was ready to unwind.

As he sipped his bourbon, his eyes wandered across the room, settling on the tiny dance floor in where a group of new interns were swaying to the sounds of Marvin Gaye. At least they have good taste in music, he thought, as he was about to turn back to the bar. But then he noticed a mane of golden hair thrashing about, accompanied by a radiant smile that threatened to light up the room. Dr. Casey MacTavish, was a new intern he met in a rather dramatic manner at the start of the day, and he hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since.

He couldn’t peel his eyes away. Her movements were a little erratic, to say the least, but there was no denying she was sexy as hell. Her laughter rang out over the music holding him captive. He took another sip of his drink, feeling a twinge of something he shouldn’t feel for an intern smoldering inside. He had a reputation for the artistic way he managed to blur lines, but as her attending physician, he knew this was one he shouldn’t cross.

He turned his attention back to his drink and was relieved when Reggie came over to discuss the Red Sox’s post-season chances. It was a welcome distraction, but despite his best efforts, his thoughts kept drifting back to Casey. He turned back ack to the dance floor, but she was gone but, luckily, not for long. A raucous chorus of wolf-whistles drew his attention to the side, where a new surgical intern Tobias had already dubbed “Ken” had the object of his attention bent backward as he feverishly kissed her.

“That lucky son of a bitch,” he mumbled under his breath.

The moment Casey was back on her feet, she tossed her head back with another infectious laugh, and despite Reggie’s attempts to pull him back to the conversation, Tobias was lost.

“I get that she’s prettier than me,” he finally heard Reggie laugh. “But does she know the Sox as well as I do?”

Caught, Tobias grinned sheepishly. “I don’t know, man,” he replied. “She strikes me as someone who could surprise you.”

“Yeah,” Reggie smiled, drying off a tumbler. “Well, she strikes me as someone who is making her way over here. Don’t look now, boss, but...”

“Hey! Do you mind if I join you?”

Her voice was melodic, and if he thought she looked gorgeous across the bar, seeing her up close was a bit too much... even for him. The delicate blush on her cheeks and playful giggle made it clear she caught him eying her from head to toe. Normally he was as smooth as silk... but he already made his first misstep. But who could blame him? Her smile, those blue eyes, the way her denim cut-off shorts clung to her body, showing off her... assets... that top that left little to his overactive imagination...

Casey cleared her throat loudly and motioned to the empty stool beside him. If she were being honest, she was reveling in the level of control she appeared to hold right now. “So, may I?”

“Of course,” Tobias replied, unable to hide a smile.

“What has you so dazed?” she teased, slipping onto the stool beside him.

“You just... you look different outside of work.”

“Different good or different bad?”

“Different,” he said, turning to her with a smirk. “You looked like you were having fun out there.”

“Yeah, burning off some steam. If I can’t celebrate my first day as a real doctor, what can I celebrate?”

“True, true."

Just then, “Ken” approached the bar to order two beers. Tobias glowered his way, but "Ken" didn't notice one bit. He was too busy winking at Casey before rejoining his crew.

“I see you’ve made some quick friends," Dr. Carrick observed.

“Of course I have," she beamed, trying to discern… was he jealous? “With all of this charm and personality... I practically have to fight them off with a stick!"

Tobias laughed so much his eyes crinkled as he motioned to Reggie. “Two specials,” he smiled. “I hope it’s not too forward of me to buy you a drink.”

“Hell no!” She winked. “You know what I earn; feel free to buy me as many drinks as you want.”

God, he was impressed. Tobias Carrick was a known flirt, a master in the field, so he knew when he met a match and holy shit, did she have it. He didn’t want to steer the conversation back to a more appropriate topic, but he felt like he should.

“So, how was the first day?”

“It was... challenging, but that’s the name of the game, isn’t it?”

“Sure is,” he nodded. “When I first came to Boston, I was interning at Mass Kenmore, and let me tell you....”

The two began to trade war stories of med school and, in his case, beyond. Their boundaries softened more with each sip they took. The conversation flowed easily, marked with laughter and, occasionally, a brief touch that felt like sparks igniting under their skin. Without realizing, Tobias leaned in closer, hanging on her every word. Beauty and brains were one thing, but her charm and wit gripped him and didn't let go.

“You know,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Do you come here often?”

“More often than I should probably,” he grinned. “It’s my go-to place after a long day.”

“Well, it’s easy to see why.”

He let out a snort. “Please don’t tell me because of the ambiance.”

“Of course not!” she replied, nudging his shoulder. “It’s the great company! I mean, it’s clear that I’m already your favorite, and here I am!”

“Oh, are you?” He chuckled, no longer able to deny the warmth building inside him. She had him mesmerized and all but forgetting “the rules.” But he was Tobias Carrick, and rules were made to be broken... weren’t they?

“So, the guy over there... the one you were kissing...”

“Bryce?” She asked, taking a sip of her drink as Tobias’s eyes fell to her lips; never had he been more jealous of a straw. “He’s cool. We just met today.”

“Damn!” Tobias exclaimed. “Does everyone you meet get a kiss like that?”

“Nah,” she smiled seductively. “Only the ones I lose bets to.” Meeting his eyes, she built up her courage and spoke with a flirtatious lilt. “Anything you care to wager, Dr. Carrick?”

That was it. He barked out a laugh, his eyes on fire. Yeah. He may have met his match.

“You’re something else,” he smiled, then his voice became lower and took on a more serious tone. “You know, I know we’re supposed to keep things professional, but you are not making it easy for me.”

“Yey," she clapped, "then it’s working!” Her face became serious, and she lowered her voice, too. “I definitely feel something here, Tobias, but I'm not stupid. I know this would be... complicated.”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “But complicated doesn’t mean impossible. If you ever wanted to find a workaround, you just say the word.”

Casey’s eyes searched his. They looked at her so intently she had to remind herself to breathe.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispered. Sensing the shift, Casey's nerves got the better of her, and she glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should get going. Early start tomorrow and all.”

Tobias nodded, masking his disappointment. “Yep, and I heard your attending is a real asshole.”

“I don’t know,” she smiled. “He's impressed the hell out of me so far."

Tobias bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to take this to the next level with all his might. This woman was going to be trouble.

“Good night, Casey. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied, never taking his eyes off her as she walked away.

Tobias sighed as she left with her friends. This was going to be complicated, but there was no way he was letting her slip through his fingers. Some things were worth taking a risk for, and there was no doubt in his mind that Dr. Casey MacTavish was one of those things. He finished his drink and threw some bills on the bar to settle his tab.

“Hey! Leaving so soon?” Reggie hollered.

“Yep!” Tobias smiled. “I want to get a good night’s sleep. Suddenly, I’ve got a lot to look forward to tomorrow.”

~~~~~

Agh! This was so much fun! WHy didn't I do it sooner! lol

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

#open heart #open heart fanfics #open heart choices #choices open heart #tobias carrick #tobias carrick x mc #tobias x casey #if it were canon... au #choices fanfic #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play #canon rewrite

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eideticstark · 1 year ago

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Federal Gambit- Part 3

Warnings: Minimal swearing, mentions of death, minimal mentions of self harm

Pairings: dad!Gibbs x reader, Hotch x fem!reader

A/N: Hello readers, thank you for sticking around. Here's the requested part 3! If you haven't read part 2, go back and do so. First off, I am so sorry it took so long! I just finished my first year of university a month ago. I hate leaving things unfinished so I'm coming back to this. This chapter is kind of a drag because it is all plot stuff but I'm hoping the story will be done with two more parts! As always, feel free to critique me and/or leave requests! Thanks for reading! <3

Tags: @ilovemark1951 @brooke-stinson @jazzymariexoxoxo @flyingmushroomss

Leroy and Aaron quickly rushed to you. The blast was weak but strong enough to render you unconscious. Aaron called his team while Leroy dialed 911.

“Stay with us y/n,”.

Coma Dream

Flashback to when you were 17

Leroy was about to ship out for another deployment. Lucky for you, he’d be there for the holidays. He decided to take you, Kelly, and Shannon, on a trip to his cabin he built but never got to use. Snow was gently falling. Leroy started a fire while your mom made you and your sister hot chocolate. Kelly draped a blanket over the two of you as you sipped your warm beverage. You turned towards Kelly the same time Kelly turned towards you. The two of you burst into a fit of laughter because whipped cream covered your noses. Shannon shook her head moving out of her spot to get you both napkins. Leroy admired the scene from afar, his blue eyes softened and filled with content. He couldn’t imagine a better way to spend time with his family.

Once everyone was settled, you all exchanged gifts. Kelly gifted you a locket with a picture of you two sticking your tongues out and making a silly face. Funny enough, you gifted Kelly the same thing. Shannon gifted Leroy a vintage wooden hand plane and he gifted her a small wooden boat.

The rest of the day was spent enjoying every moment with the family before the inevitable deployment happened.

As soon as the holidays were over, Leroy shipped out, the family outing now just a past memory.

It was a crisp January morning. You were running a high fever resulting in you missing school. Shannon drove Kelly to school that day and where it all went downhill.

You saw the news on TV and you couldn’t believe your eyes. Your mom and your sister were dead. You needed to reach your dad but you knew that was wishful thinking. It was impossible to reach him whenever he was deployed. With tears falling fast, you did the next best thing and called Leroy’s friend.

You hid because those same people might go after you next. In hiding, it was only you and your thoughts. You drove Kelly to school everyday. It should’ve been you. And for that, you hated yourself. At that moment, you hated your father. But, you also knew he was the only one who’d be able to help you.

—

You don’t know how many weeks, maybe even months have passed. All the days started to mend together. You couldn't care less. The pain of losing everything is all consuming. There was nothing worth living for. You decided today was the day as you grabbed the bottle of sleeping pills. One bottle. One bottle and all the pain would be gone. Your hands shook as the pills rattled into your palm. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and felt a stinging pain. Your eyes shot open and were faced with your father in front of you.

In true Gibbs fashion, his timing is impeccable and smacked the pills out of your hand.

All your anger returned and you pushed Leroy with whatever force you had. You fell to the ground defeated. Leroy crossed the room and engulfed you in a hug. You broke down, finally feeling safe enough to do so.

—

Present day at the hospital

“Damnit Gibbs, why isn’t she waking up? The doctor said she’s stable and should’ve been awake within a couple hours after surgery. It’s been a almost a day and a half”

With a knowing glint in his eyes, Gibbs answered Aaron’s question. “She doesn’t want to.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why.”

Looking at the locket you never took off, Gibbs responded with, “Not my story to tell.”

—

Hotch decides that the best thing he can do for you is to work the case so he returns back to the BAU. His team has many questions but know better than to ask their unit chief. They gather in the conference room and begin working the case.

Hotch started the discussion with, “what do we know?”

“Y/n enlisted in the marines when she was 18 shortly after…” Garcia’s voice trailed off.

“Shortly after what Garcia?”

“After Pedro Hernandez murdered her mom and sister,” Garcia responded with a sniffle.

JJ added, “Y/n Gibbs doesn’t exist after she enlisted. I’m assuming because Jethro Gibbs has a long list of enemies.”

“Garcia, what can you find on y/n y/l/n?”

Moments pass and Garcia is puzzled. “Y/n y/l/n barely exists. The basic info is there but everything else is classified.”

Morgan, trying to bring morale up speaks up, “Baby Girl work your magic and unclassify the info.”

“Aw it’s cute that you’re trying. But I’d be breaking a dozen federal laws.”

Prentiss adds on by saying, “So now you’re afraid? You’ve done so before.”

Before the conversation went even more out of hand, Rossi tells everyone to “quit it” and asks, “Who classified the info?”

“Secretary of the Navy.”

The team continued digging into your life to try and make sense of it all. Hours passed and they still were nowhere closer to finding out who wanted you dead.

A wave of realization put Reid into a ramble. “We’ve been looking for hours and what did we come up with? Everyone who could want y/l/n dead is dead or the file is classified. How can the unsub figure out who she is if even we can’t get into the files? Any government agency would have been on alert if there were to be a breach.”

It was already late and Hotch decided to send everyone home and they’d regroup tomorrow morning. Right as the team began packing up, Gibbs and his team swarmed in.

“Aaron Hotchner, you’re under arrest for the attempted murder of y/n y/l/n.”

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woniechronicles · 1 year ago

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mystery boy

context: the same man always shows up at your job during the week. comes at the same time, leaves right before closing. he doesn’t speak much, not until your one closing shift, that is.

pairings: shy student, figure skater! sunghoon x g.n. reader

word count: 3.3k

a/n: not proofread

every thursday to sunday night was the same: doing school work behind the counter of your minimum wage job at your local ice skating rink. people came and went, some regulars, some school field trips, some who come in every now and then to hang out with their friends. but there was one man who came in, supposedly, everyday to practice his skills. on your shifts, he would come in every day at the same time: 5PM. then he would leave at closing time and come back the very next day at the same time and do it all over again. every so often he would bring a friend or two but very rarely would he do so- maybe once or twice a month at most.

every so often you would peek through the glass and scan the ice rink. he always stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the families and younger crowd, even those who you assumed were his age. the way he moved so elegantly across the ice looked effortless to him, but when you imagined yourself even attempting to pull off a move such as one of his you knew you would fall flat on your ass within a matter of seconds. but you never lingered for long, your attention moving back to your school work or one of the other customers.

according to your coworkers, he doesn’t say much. everyone’s curiosity is strong with him in particular, especially the younger women who attempt to send him flirty eyes his way but are met with blank stares. even your manager elli, who co-owns the rink with her husband, has tried sparking up conversations with him before. but from what you’ve been told, he just answers in one word or short sentences with dead ends. half of the staff think of him as an asshole while some think of him as just shy or mysterious. you, on the other hand, didn’t care much to ponder about him.

during the last hour of work, elli comes in from the manager's office in a hurry with her purse and a worried look on her face that starts to match yours. “my granddaughter is in the hospital, i have to leave for the night.” she says in a rush, quickly looking around to make sure shes gathered all her items.

“will she be okay?” you ask, eyes widened with concern.

she nods, getting out from behind the counter and standing in front of you as she rummages through her purse for her car keys. “she’s fine, just a broken arm. but i’m still worried.” finally finding her keys, she turns to look at you. “would you mind closing up for the night?”

you shake your head, motioning for her to leave. “not at all, i got it covered. now go, i got everything covered, don't worry.” you smile at her reassuringly as she mouths a ‘thank you’, rushing out the door and leaving to her duties as a grandmother.

the next hour was slow, people were leaving and no new customers came within the last hour. every so often people would come to the counter next to for free hot chocolate as they left and said goodnight, but that was about it. five minutes before closing, you noticed the mystery skater still trying to nail a spin he’s been attempting for the past thirty minutes. normally he would be getting ready to leave by now, but he was still stuck on the move. being the only two in the rink, you decide to start locking the doors of the lobby and putting away any skates laying around as you allow him the extra time. by the time you finish cleaning up the lobby, it’s ten minutes after closing and he’s still going at it.

you quickly move into the manager's office and turn off the music to signal him it’s time to wrap up. once the music stops, he snaps back into reality and realizes that it’s probably closing time. walking off the rink, he moves towards the lobby and his eyes catch the time. he looks over at you with an apologetic look, rushing to take everything off so as to not inconvenience you.

chuckling, you start to pack your items up as you speak to him. “it’s okay, you don’t have to hurry.” you glance up at him, realizing he was already putting his sneakers on. “i gave you extra time since you looked like you needed some. it’s okay.”

you hear him mumble a quick ‘thank you’ before grabbing his bag and walking towards the door. before you could warn him that the doors were locked, you see him walk straight into the door as they don’t open for him. quickly covering your hand with your mouth with a gasp, you begin to walk towards him.

“are you okay?” you ask concerned, his head tilted downwards in embarrassment. “i was going to warn you but you walk really fast.”

he nods as he rubs his forehead. “i’m okay, sorry about that.”

shaking your head, you rush to grab your bag from the counter and the keys to lock up. “it’s fine, don’t apologize. as long as you’re okay that’s what matters.” you unlock the door and motion for him to walk out, following behind him as he does so.

as you lock up the doors you expect to hear him walk away, but in the corner of your eye you can see him standing still. as you finish locking every door, you turn around and see him looking at you blankly.

quickly realizing how creepy he was seeming, he speaks up for him. “sorry, i just realized it’s dark out and since it seems to be only you i didn’t want you to walk through the parking lot by yourself.”

you nod, smiling politely at him as you make your way towards your car. sure this man seemed harmless, just an awkward person, but you also were cautious. looking around the lot, you notice only one car in the lot. “where’s your car?”

he points at the bus stop across the lot, then realized you probably couldn’t see him motion towards it and mentally slapped himself. “i take the bus. my car is in the shop right now.” noticing his bus in the distance, he starts jogging to catch it but not before yelling to get some safe.

you watch as he gets on the bus, taking a seat in the back near the window. he takes his headphones out of his bag and slips them on, turning to his phone as the bus pulls off. from inside your car, you start to wonder about the awkward guy more.

xxxx

the next day is the same. you arrive at three, clock in, and begin doing your everyday tasks before sitting behind the counter and checking people in in between your class work. at five is when a taller figure approaches the counter, the voice deep and familiar.

“sorry again about yesterday.” he says, his deep voice causing your head to shoot up.

it’s him again, like clockwork. you shake your head in disagreement, taking the money that he slid on the counter and getting ready to give him his change back. “don’t apologize, you have nothing to be sorry for.” taking the change from the drawer, you start to count it over to make sure it’s the right amount. “i’m just glad you’re okay. and thank you for walking me to my car, i appreciate it.”

he holds out his hand for the change, taking it as you place the quarters and dimes in his rather large hands. you notice a shy smile on his face as he says ‘anytime’, a dimple popping out as he makes his way towards his signature locker and slips on his skates. you didn’t notice, but as you continued on with your work he kept glancing at you. he was curious about you, more than you were curious about him.

throughout the night, you would glance the mystery man’s way at times to see him practicing the same move as last night. occasionally he would move onto a different one, but not spending more than a couple of minutes on it and then going back to the previous one. as the last hour closed in, almost everyone seemed to leave except for him. just like the previous night, you allowed him to stay past time. you allowed him to finish up his move until you cleaned everything up, then turning off the music at fifteen minutes past closing to signal him it’s time to leave.

you see him let out a sigh, walking off of the ice and to the lobby to change back into his sneakers. as you shove your books into your bag, he goes to grab the lobby door until he realizes it’s locked again. looking up at the clock, he realizes the time and looks at you as you close everything up.

“you didn’t have to do that again, i-“

“feel bad?” you interrupt, turning around from locking up the skates to unlock the lobby door and let him through. “it’s fine, really. you get extra time to practice and i’m able to clean up everything. it’s a win-win situation.”

as he steps out, he sees his bus pull away and lets out a sigh. looking in his direction, you see a bus pull away and look at him. “was that your bus?” you question. when he nods, you automatically feel terrible. “i’m so sorry, i can give you a ride home? if you’d like? or does that make you uncomfortable? i’m so sorry that wasn’t my intention-“

he lets out laughter as he runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “it’s okay, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. i can just call an uber or something-“

“no no! let me drive you, it’s okay. just don’t kill me or anything and there won’t be an issue.” locking up the doors, you make sure it’s all secure and grab your car keys. as you look up at him apologetically, you start to plead more. “i’m so sorry i swear i was just trying-“

“it’s okay, it’s okay. if i accept your ride offer will you feel better?” seeing you nod, he smiles and agrees to the ride. the smile on your face makes his heart flutter, following beside you to your car.

the walk to the car is quiet as you rush to open the doors. you don’t know if he has a curfew or if his parents are expecting him so you don’t want to be the reason he gets in trouble. or if he even had plans and he could be missing or be late to them- that was your main worry. he notices you became quiet but says nothing, just slips into the passenger side and puts on the seatbelt as you begin to pull away.

as you wait for your turn onto the street, you ask him where he lives. “i’ll guide you.” is all he says as he tells you where and when to turn. the entire time you’re praying he doesn't take you to some creepy road with a malicious plan but as you turn down a road with large houses accompanied by even bigger pools with waterfalls, that negative cloud dissipates. when he says “here”, you pull into an empty driveway of a large home. it wasn’t a mansion, but it was definitely bigger than the studio apartment you were renting and even bigger than your childhood home. through the metal fence you can see a pool and a hot tub, both empty but very obvious.

noticing your awe expression, he chuckles and unbuckles his seatbelt. “thanks for the ride- i’m sorry i don’t know your name, i feel like i should.”

breaking out of your curiosity daze, you turn to him. “y/n. what’s yours, rich boy?” you tease, the smile on your lips playful.

his nose scrunches as he smiles, opening the door as he throws his legs over the door frame. “sunghoon. it’s nice to officially meet.”

xxxx

for the next week, a routine builds up between you two. he comes in at five, stays till after closing, and you drive him home. gradually you begin to learn more of each other. you learn how he’s practicing to become a professional figure skater while also taking a few college courses at the university across town to earn a degree in radiology. although still soft spoken, you can tell he’s opened his shell to you a bit.

during the week you can’t help but wonder how he is. while in classes, your mind wanders on how his classes are and if he’s learned this new spin he recently told you he wanted to learn. once thursday finally arrives again, you happily wait around for 5PM and smile up at sunghoon as he enters with his one friend you see every so often.

“long time, no see.” he speaks first, smiling at you as his friend just watches the interaction.

you greet his friend as well with a smile, taking his payment and giving him the remainder of the change. “you don’t need a ride tonight?”

he shakes his head as he puts the change in his wallet, telling his friend to start getting ready with his skates. “not tonight. but hey,” he looks around as he builds up courage for his next sentence. “i got my car back from the shop the other day and wanted to offer you a ride home tomorrow, if you’re okay with that. just, as a thank you for the past week.”

you nod, your smile widening. “sure, i don’t mind. thanks, sunghoon.”

throughout the night, whenever you looked over at sunghoon he was already looking over at you. when your eyes locked, he’d look away with a shy smile before following his friend around the rink. at the end of the night, sunghoon and his friend left right as elli was closing for the night and he waved goodbye to you.

when elli locked the doors, she turned to you with a curious grin. “what?” you said, holding back a smile from her. you knew where she was headed, but you didn’t want to give her the details just yet.

“are you seeing the mystery boy?” she asks in a teasing tone as she cleans up the empty cups and sprawled about napkins off the floor.

you shake your head, stuffing your items in your bag quickly before doing your closing routine. “not really. i’ve just been giving him rides and we’ve been bonding, i guess. just friendly stuff.”

she scoffs, making you turn your head to her direction. “not with the way he looks at you.” you raise a brow at her, motioning for her to continue her sentence. “the way he smiles at you from across the rink is telling enough. take it from me, i would know.”

you take her word for it but don’t ponder on it until your drive home. does he really look at you a certain way? does he really smile a lot around you? regardless, you try to not think too much about it but can’t help but imagine his face when you close your eyes. as you’re drifting to sleep, you can’t help but look forward to tomorrow.

xxxx

today you even finished your coursework early, meaning all you did was study and occasionally procrastinate. when five o’clock rolled around, in strolled sunghoon with his skates by himself this time. his face lit up upon seeing you, his nose scrunching up in this adorable way that causes his dimples to pop out at you. you would be lying if you said it didn’t cause a butterfly to flutter around in your stomach, especially after your conversation with elli last night.

“hey stranger.” you say, returning his smile. “fancy meeting you here.”

he hands you his money, chuckling at your greeting. “yeah the outside caught my attention so figured why not.” as you hand him his change, you lock eyes for a few moments before he continues. “the cutie behind the counter drew me in a bit, too.”

the blush spreading across your cheeks catch his attention, mentally making a note to flirt with you more. “just a bit?” you retort, catching him off guard.

“more than a bit, actually.” is the last thing he says before walking over to his locker and getting ready for the evening.

as the night comes to a close, elli leaves early again to attend to her granddaughter again since she is still healing from her injury. five minutes before closing and everyone is gone except you two, so you close up the lobby again and begin cleaning. but before you can turn off the music, sunghoon walks in and begins helping you clean up the empty cups and trash around the waste bin. when you notice this, you begin to protest but he shoo’s you away, insisting he helps you since you help him. you let him continue because at the end of the day, who are you to object to extra help? you both take your time cleaning, just talking with one another.

“how’s your routine coming along?” you ask as you clean up the last of the lobby, putting away the skates as sunghoon finally changes out of his own. “from what i saw it looks like it’s coming along great.”

“you’re watching me skate while at work?” he asks, making you glance at him with a grin. “how creepy.”

you laugh, throwing an empty paper cup at him as you come out from behind the counter with your bag on your shoulder. “and you stare too much.”

leaning against the counter, you watch as he grabs his bag and starts walking towards you. “it’s not my fault you’re so pretty.” he comments, making you roll your eyes with a tint of blush appearing on your cheeks.

you both are just mere inches apart, eyes staring into one another’s as the silence drowns out the world around you. his hand brushes against yours for a moment, sending a shiver up your spine as his eyes gaze from your eyes to your lips then back to eyes once more. taking this into notice, you do the same as to reciprocate his feelings. and luckily enough, he understands. bringing his hand up to your cheek, he cups it with a shy grin and leans his forehead against yours. bodies pressed together, he snakes his arm around your waist to pull you closer. for a few seconds you stay like this, waiting for someone to make the first move as your arm rests on his bicep and the other on his neck.

“so can you kiss me already?” you break the silence, laughter filling the room before his lips meets yours.

and once they do, you can feel those previous butterflies erupt into a zoo. it’s not long before you both are smiling into the kiss, lips molding perfectly together as they move in unison. as the kids deepens, you glide your tongue across his bottom lip for access and he happily allows you in. sunghoon tastes just like vanilla, making you want more of him. it isn’t until you momentarily snap back into reality when you realize where you are: at your job.

you pull away from sunghoon’s lips, both of you attempting to catch your breath as his thumb grazes the apples of your cheek. once you pull away from his forehead to take a look at him, you smile at the sight. his lips are plump, saliva at the corners of his mouth. you swipe away at them, cleaning it up with your thumb with a genuine smile. he watches you intently, catching you off guard by pecking your lips before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the exit.

you stop him in his tracks, making him turn around to face you. “so are we dating now?” you ask, taking a step forward.

he chuckles, pulling you towards him to press a small kiss to your forehead. “let me treat you to dinner first and then we can make it official.”

#☀︎ woniechronicles works #enhypen #enhyphen fluff #sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon fluff #enha #enha fluff #enha imagines #enhypen fluff #sunghoon fluff

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silentmagi · 11 months ago

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Rising Star

Main Page

What sign of civilization lay before them?

5. A Watermill

In fairness to Luna, the squat building of wood and stone was not much civilization, the building and wooden wheel slowly turning with the river’s flow attached to it were certainly a sign of civilization. Judging by the lazy trails of smoke floating out of the chimney suggested that someone was around.

Sadly, the building was across the river from them, and the flooded waters prevented them from getting to it easily. While it was a heartening sight, they had to let out a sigh and pressed on. There was probably a bridge nearby where they could cross over and get to the village it possibly supported.

Pressing on, they found the banks of the river growing thinner, and had to take to the trees again to weave their path while keeping the river in sight. After an hour, they came to a road, and just a few yards away, a bridge. Deciding to cross the river now, they took the bridge, and found the road curving back along the river to reverse their direction. Well at least now they’d be able to talk to the people at the mill, and maybe even get some extra supplies.

The road was well kept, and the cart was easy to move on the stones used to fill in the muddier parts of it. The three of them were grateful for the break from cloying mud and constant dampness, though they’d have to remove some of the mud on Edmund’s legs and flanks before too long.

They were greeted by a wooden fence with a simple gate in about half the time it took to get to the bridge, and beyond it lay the building of the water mill. Outside the front door were two worn and well used rocking chairs, and inside one of them was an old man having a pipe. “Why hello there travelers,” he called out, raising the pipe in greeting. “I see you were caught by the rains.”

Star bit her tongue as Luna stepped forward and with a smile evident in her voice, addressed the elder having a laugh at their troubles. “I suppose you could say that Grandfather, and we got turned around. Could you tell us what village is nearby?”

“About a mile the way you’re going is the village of Tricreek,” he answered, stroking his beard in thought. “Why don’t you two come in and sit a spell? Mother would love to have company over for supper, and then you can join the morning carts to the village with the flour.”

“We would be much appreciative of the hospitality grandfather, and as a bard, I can offer a song for my supper, or a tale to tell.”

The laughter coming from the old man seemed to draw the attention of a picture perfect example of a fairytale grandmother, all dimples and blush covered cheeks, as she peeked out the door to see what he was laughing about. “Forgive me ladies, but if I must say that having someone other than me telling tales would be a welcome break.”

Luna could almost feel her shoulders relax at the mention of a break, since Tricreek was actually a village she knew. She had been tempted to go to it before going to the tower, but it was a half-day’s journey out of her way.

Now? She knew that the roads would get them to Crownsdale within a couple days of an easy pace, with a couple nice inns along the way.

Seems that things are finally going their way for once…

#Story #My Writing #Rising Star #My Polls #Star #World Building #Please Participate #Star Main

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whats-k-popping · 1 year ago

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Not Valid

Summary: Just pulling the phone closer to him hurts his muscles. And the bright light of the screen has him seeing stars. A new headache pulses behind his eyes. But all he has to do is pull up Mingi’s contact and press the phone button. He can manage for that long.

Pairing: Minsang - Platonic intentions but open interpretation.

Words: 3236

Warnings: Illness || Fever || Angst || Non-graphic Nightmares || Mingi Hiatus era

Inspiration: Loosely inspired by canon Minsang phone number incident. Modified events to fit into this story.

“He’s finally asleep,” Seonghwa sighs, shoulders slumped as though they may fall right out of their sockets. He exits the bedroom corridor, joining the members waiting in the living room.

Hongjoong hangs up the phone as he emerges from the kitchen entrance, sitting around the other 6 members. “Managers said anything above 38.5 is excused from schedules. Anything over 40 and it’s a trip to the hospital.”

“He’s still just over the 39 mark. His fever hasn’t gone lower than 38.8 all night,” Seonghwa admits, throwing himself on the couch despite the fact that it’s already occupied by the three youngest. He had volunteered to stay up with Yeosang through the night. He’s exhausted and not the least bit excited for their daily schedule, but he’s already resolved to nap on the drive to their filming location.

Hongjoong’s already texting the manager and alerting them of Yeosang’s most recent temperature. He’s also asking (demanding) that his schedule be cleared for at least two days. Seonghwa makes himself comfortable on Wooyoung’s lap, “Even if he wasn’t excused, there’s no way he could make it through the day. He can’t even sit up on his own.” Silence falls on the room, the other occupants looking between the two eldest, unasked questions like elephants in the room. Hesitation on the tip of their tongues.

Hongjoong feels the tension like cement blocks on his shoulders. It’s his job to anticipate these things. Though no one had expected their resident Doberman (read: Maltese) to get sick, especially as quickly as he did. Regardless, his job is to make sure the members are taken care of. And their physical condition comes first. “Mingi, what’s your schedule look like?”

“Just vocal recording.” the fellow rapper replies. Since he’s returned from hiatus, upper management has decided to ease him back into the idol lifestyle so as not to overwhelm him. He’s only had one or two simple schedules a day for two weeks now. And while he’s grateful for the accommodation, he can’t help but feel he’s not really pulling his weight for the group. But he’s talked about these feelings with his members and they’ve all reminded him that it’s best to go at this pace to avoid a relapse. And silver linings, he’s available when the members need help.

“Sangie should be fine on his own for an hour or so. Honestly, he’ll probably stay asleep most of the day since he didn’t get much last night.” Seonghwa supplies.

Mingi realizes quickly where the conversation is headed. “I’ll look after him once I’m done with recording,” he volunteers, like it’s not already the decided answer to unasked questions.

Wooyoung wraps his arms around Mingi’s broad shoulders, hugging him tightly, “Take care of my best friend, Minnie.”

Mingi pats Wooyoung’s back with a wide smile. “And here I thought I was your best friend,” He says sarcastically.

San scoffs and mutters “Get in line” to which Wooyoung’s jaw drops to the floor and the rest of the room bursts into laughter. Mingi has to admit, it’s good to be back.

Hongjoong takes one more trip down the bedroom corridor to check on Yeosang before their managers arrive. The leader smooths out the younger’s hair and sets a few things within reach should Yeosang wake up urgently. He then joins the other members as the vans pull up in front of their dorm. Mingi gets into one van while the other six pile into the other.

As expected, Mingi finishes his schedule quickly and he’s back to the dorm an hour later. The first thing he does after kicking off his shoes is make sure that Yeosang’s still alive. He peeks his head inside and finds the older vocalist curled up under the covers. Exactly how Hongjoong said he left him. He looks peaceful, contrary to how he’d seen Yeosang staggering through the dorm last night. After the night he knows Yeosang had, he doesn’t want to disturb him. So he softly closes the door and notifies the group chat that he’s back and Yeosang is officially in his “very capable hands.” It wouldn’t be the member’s LINE group chat if Wooyoung doesn’t make a dirty joke out of it.

He goes back to the living room and connects his switch to the TV. There’s a game he’s been meaning to play. And usually he feels guilty playing during the day. But he figures there’s nothing else he should be doing as long as Yeosang sleeps. He’s not due for another dose of medicine yet, and Yunho prepared food to heat up if Yeosang wakes up hungry. So he leans against the back of the couch, an excited smile on his face as he boots up the game. He even remembers to turn the volume down so he could hear Yeosang call for him.

Yeosang tosses and turns in the throes of yet another vivid fever dream. He always gets them when he’s feverish. When he was younger, they used to be filled with truly terrifying things, like clowns and cartoon monsters. And that one about bees that unsettles him to this day. But recently they are always the same plot. Now they always involve the members. Sometimes, the members are mad at him. Sometimes, he leaves the members. Sometimes there’s a tragic accident. No matter the preface, the ending always remains the same. Yeosang always ends up alone.

This one ends with a devastating plane crash and the sight of his member’s mangled bodies. It’s the visual of San’s severed head that shocks him to consciousness. The first thing he notices is his heart beating against the wall of his chest. With enough force, it might bust through his rib cage. He tries to take a deep breath, but quickly realizes that no matter how hard he tries, the air won’t come through. His breaths are short and ragged. Then he feels cold tracks running along his cheeks. Tears.

He reaches for where he usually keeps a water bottle next to the bed. Or, rather, he tries to. The simple action of extending his arm hurts. Every joint aches, sending signals of pain to his clouded mind. Just taking his hand from the warm encasing of the covers sends a sharp chill all the way to his spine. And suddenly his whole body feels 20 degrees below freezing. He’s still crying.

It takes more energy than it should for Yeosang to grab the water bottle, only to find it empty. Feeling the air light bottle shatters his heart. He’s already crying, and he won’t stop anytime soon. He feels betrayed for a moment, astounded that someone would drink his water. He doesn’t remember drinking it. But he doesn’t remember much of the last 12 hours, actually. Glimpses of the last 12 hours flash through his mind. There’s only bits and pieces of members’ faces after deciding that Jongho’s lap would be a good place to rest. He should apologize to their maknae.

Rather than launch a full scale investigation on the case of the missing water, he focuses on where he’s going to find more. He’s losing water faster than he can replenish. With the sweat and the tears, he’ll risk dehydration soon. And even his fevered foggy mind knows that is something he would like to avoid. He can hear Seonghwa’s soft voice in his head: “You need to drink, Sangie. We can’t have you getting dehydrated.” So that’s where his water had gone.

The dryness in his mouth battles the nausea swirling in his stomach. He’s somewhere between thirsty and nauseous. He needs to be hydrated, in case that swirling does result in vomiting. Has he done that yet? He can’t even remember. But the kitchen is so far away. He doesn’t think he could make it to the bedroom door. The kitchen may as well be on another continent. His lips start quivering, mustering up the reserves of his strength to venture into their suddenly too big dorm. How foolish he’s been to complain about the size of their dorm before.

When he sits up, he spots a note on the side table. There’s a chart logging the medications he’s taking and when he needs his next dose. This had been Jongho’s diligent work after he accidentally over-medicated San when he was sick. Since then, the med table has been an absolute must in the ATEEZ dorm. They don’t need any more scares like that. Aside the medication chart, there’s a sticky note written in Hongjoong’s scratchy handwriting. He wipes the tears from his eyes so he can read it:

I got you two days off. We’ll see how you’re feeling after that. Mingi is going to be at the dorm with you. Let him know if you need anything. Feel better. -Hyung.

A wave of relief washes over Yeosang’s weakened body. He smiles for the first time since he’d woken up, thrilled to find he’s not alone in the dorm. Not only will Mingi be able to help him, but he doesn’t like to be alone when he’s feeling so poorly. Not that he’s ever told anyone. He knows sometimes it’s unavoidable.

Relaxing back into the bed, Yeosang reaches for his phone to call Mingi. Just pulling the phone closer to him hurts his muscles. And the bright light of the screen has him seeing stars. A new headache pulses behind his eyes. But all he has to do is pull up Mingi’s contact and press the phone button. He can manage for that long.

“The number you have dialed is not valid.”

That’s not possible. He tries again.

“The number you have dialed is not valid.”

The relieved smile falls, and Yeosang’s eyes fill with tears again. Maybe one more time.

“The number you have dialed is not valid.”

And when he hears that dreaded message a third time, the tears spill again. Did Mingi block his number? Or did he turn off his phone? But Mingi’s supposed to be taking care of him. He hasn’t seen Mingi all night, if the fleeting flashbacks are anything to go by. Doesn’t Mingi care about him? Shouldn’t Mingi check in on him? He weeps at the cyclone of thoughts swirling through his clouded mind.

He’s never craved attention so desperately. All he wants is touch. Nothing too extreme. Delicate fingers running through his hair. Maybe a steady palm on his shoulder or cool knuckles against his forehead. He just doesn’t want to be alone. In all of his nightmares, he ends up alone. But those are just nightmares. He never thought they would translate to his reality. Hopelessly, he clutches the phone close to his chest and weeps. Maybe Mingi will hear him? Maybe Mingi won’t care.

Mingi has cleared through eight levels already. He’s hyperfocused on each mission, the game much more captivating than even the trailers made it seem. He’s so engrossed in the game, he’d nearly forgotten about Yeosang. That is, until his phone rings and he catches sight of Wooyoung’s silly selca on the screen. He instantly pauses the game and picks up the phone.

“Song Mingi! Where are our updates!” Wooyoung screams. Based on the voice’s distance from the receiver, he assumes Wooyoung is not alone. The others are probably crowding the phone.

Mingi startles at the question. How long has it been since he last checked on Yeosang? He’s been back for nearly three hours. He bites his lower lip. “There’s nothing to report, Woo.” He hesitates, “Sangie’s been asleep the whole time.”

“Did his fever break yet?”

“He didn’t even wake up for his medicine?”

“You should wake him up. He needs to eat.”

Mingi’s heart sinks. The members all trusted him to take care of Yeosang. He wants to contribute to the team. And he doesn’t even do that well. His mentality shifts to formulate an excuse. In his defense, he's used to having the place to himself these days. And Yeosang's been so quiet, he'd forgotten he was there. Mingi just hopes the quiet isn't a bad thing.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi states ambiguously, “I’m going to check on him now. I’ll update the group chat.” He hangs up the call before anyone can voice their disappointment.

When he approaches the bedroom corridor, he hears the sobbing. The sound gets louder as he rushes to Yeosang’s room. He throws the door open and finds Yeosang curled into a fetal position.

His eyes have dried up from dehydration, no more tears left to shed. But his voice still breaks with hiccuping whimpers and sobs. Mingi rushes to the bedside, falling to his knees to get as close to Yeosang without climbing into the bed with him.

"Sang-ah. Hey, are you okay?" He asks stupidly, already knowing the answer is a blaring no. "Are you still feeling sick" like the bright red feverish flush doesn't give it away.

Yeosang just curls tighter into himself, shaking his head. He convinces himself that there is no way Mingi is here with him now. Mingi doesn’t care about him. He must be having another fever dream. This Mingi will leave him eventually. And he’ll be alone again.

Mingi brushes his fingers underneath Yeosang’s sweaty fringe. Yeosang almost leans into the touch, but succumbing to the comfort would just be an evil trick. “You’re burning up!” Mingi exclaims, “Bre-Breathe with me, hyung, we-we need you to calm d-down.”

This nightmare Mingi even stutters like the real one. And now there’s a hand on his chest, and a face close to his telling him to breathe in. And hold. And breathe out. Because he’s so close, and so warm, Yeosang does. Until he his breaths even out and he can no longer hear the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. All he hears now are comforting nothings whispered in Mingi’s deep, soothing voice. And he starts to believe Mingi is more than an evil figment of his imagination. His touch is genuine. His presence is comforting. His concern is written on his features.

Nightmares make him cry. The nightmares never cry themselves.

“You scared me,” Mingi confesses. He presses his forehead against Yeosang’s burning skin. “I’m sorry I wasn’t with you. What got you so upset?”

Yeosang sorts through his mind, trying to remember why he was so worked up in the first place. But he can’t focus on anything but the spots where Mingi’s skin is on him. It’s a welcome presence, a comfortable tingling reminding him that he’s not alone. Not in his room, and not in the world. He just makes a noncommittal sound, holding his arms out to initiate more contact.

Mingi notices Yeosang’s phone clenched tightly in his grip as he goes to hug the older. He tries to pry the phone away from Yeosang, “Silly hyung, you shouldn’t be using your phone when you’re sick.” he jokes, “You should have been resting.”

When Mingi pulls the phone away, the memory floods him again. He had tried to call Mingi. The number you have dialed is invalid. He remembers. Mingi doesn’t care about you. He reaches for the phone again, “You didn’t answer me.” He rasps, his mouth dry and voice hoarse from disuse.

“What was that?” Mingi hadn’t heard.

“I-I tried to call you.” Yeosang shows Mingi the phone screen, shows him the three attempted outbound calls, “I needed you.”

Mingi pulls out his own phone. He checks his call records. He has exactly zero missed calls from Yeosang. But when he looks back to Yeosang's phone, he immediately recognizes the issue. He pulls Yeosang into a tighter hug, "Oh, hyung." He sighs, "that is my old number. I had it changed while I was on leave."

Yeosang sniffles, suddenly feeling shy. And ashamed. His fault. He should have known better. Mingi would never shut him out. He's one of Mingi's top 5 favorite hyungs. "Oh." It's a small sentiment, but it clears up everything. If it comes up again, he'll blame it on the fever.

Mingi snatches the phone from Yeosang yet again, and this time the older relinquishes it without complaint. "Here hyung," Mingi taps at the screen, "I deleted my old number and added the new one. So it will go through the next time you call."

Yeosang nods, a lingering pout on his lips. He's grateful for Mingi's updated number. But he doesn't really want a reason to use it.

"Not that you'll be calling me anytime soon. Because I'm not going to leave your side until you're feeling better." The taller man climbs into the bed. Yeosang smiles, quickly wrapping himself around Mingi like he's a body pillow. "Seonghwa may try to kick me out, but he can fight me. I think I can take him." Mingi smiles, running fingers through the older's dark hair.

Yeosang just hums in reply, quickly falling asleep to the rapper's gentle scratching. "But don't tell him I said that." Mingi's laugh is music to his ears. "Hey, are you falling asleep?" And just like that, the soothing petting stops. Much to Yeosang's dissatisfaction. "No, you can't yet. I have to give you your medicine. And food. And you still have a fever. I haven't even taken care of you yet."

"Not hungry," Yeosang replies, muffled against Mingi's shoulder.

"Not negotiable. The others might actually kill me if I don't pamper you like the prince you are." Now it's Yeosang's turn to laugh. But it quickly digresses into coughing. And that reminds him, he's awfully thirsty.

"Water." The vocalist raspy once he's finished coughing, "Thirsty."

Mingi eyes the empty water bottle on the floor. He picks the bottle up with his left hand, and scoops Yeosang up into his right side. "Don't wanna move." Yeosang whines.

"You're not moving. I'm carrying you." Mingi rebuts.

"Still moving." He mumbles against Mingi's neck. Despite his protest, he quickly latches on, tired arms slung around Mingi's shoulders. "Where are you taking me?"

"The kitchen," Mingi replies like it's obvious. "You said you wanted water."

"I want you to bring me water."

"No. I just promised that I wouldn't leave your side. Not even for a second." Mingi's wide hand runs along his back.

Yeosang doesn’t have the energy to argue. So he succumbs and lets Mingi carry him to the kitchen. He gulps down the water while seated on Mingi's lap. He even eats a few pieces of fruit before he all but orders Mingi to take him back to bed. Mingi takes his temperature and records it on the log. He's still teetering at the 39 mark. Yeosang takes the meds he offered then resumes cuddling with the younger rapper. Mingi makes sure he sends a photo to the group chat.

He's nearly asleep, lulled by the rise and fall of Mingi's chest, when his eyes shoot open and he reaches for his phone.

"Sangie, what's wrong?" Mingi asks, but Yeosang doesn't reply. He keeps tapping at the screen. The room is silent for a few seconds until Mingi's ringtone echoes through the room. Mingi picks up his phone and shows Yeosang the Hehetmon drawing on the screen.

Yeosang ends the call, wide smile on his face as he sets the phone back and nuzzles himself into Mingi's chest again. "Just making sure."

Mingi smirks, presses a kiss to the crown of Yeosang's head. "Sweet dreams, hyung."

And they are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I've had this idea in my mind for a really long time. Mingi and Yeosang are my Ateez biases. I personally found the phone number incident really charming, especially the way they handled it. Also, no disrespect toward Mingi's hiatus. I have the most respect for him prioritizing himself and his health.

I feel like my writing has gone to shit. I'll keep working on it. Send me prompts to help me?

As always, thanks for reading to the end! I really appreciate each and every one of you who make it this far! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!

#ateez #ateez sickfic #ateez fever #sick!Yeosang #caretaker!Mingi #ateez canonverse #minsang #tw fever #aki sickfic #aki writes #tw nightmare

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jae-birde · 3 months ago

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So... where I've been

Well, it finally happened. The fanfic writer curse finally caught me.

(TW for discussion of illness, vomiting, and hospitalization under the cut)

As I'm sure an explanation is warranted for that, here it is.

So, I was gonna post a fic on the 9th (of August), but I felt way too shitty to do any my final editing or to actually post it, so I decided to postpone until the next day.

The next day I overslept until almost noon and had a nasty cough that was so bad, that I threw up first thing that morning. I thought about editing my fic, but decided I'd wait till whatever this illness was passed.

Fast forward a few days, and my cough is getting worse. I've thrown up multiple times. I still feel like absolute shit. So I go to a drop-in clinic, because my mom is getting worried that it's strep throat or something like that. Unfortunately, they can't tell what it is at the clinic, and I'm still getting worse.

After a talk with my personal doctor a few days later, I go to the hospital because she's concerned it might be turning into pneumonia. After an 11 hour wait, I FINALLY see the doctor at 4 am in the morning, and I'm told that "it's just a really bad flu". Now this didn't feel like a really bad flu. I was coughing so bad I was throwing up. I could barely sleep because I kept coughing. My lungs and throat both hurt REALLY badly. And I was STILL coughing.

But, the next day after the trip to the hospital, I had a doctor's appointment with my personal doctor scheduled anyway. So, after talking to her, she sends in a request for an x-ray, and I go in for one that day. Turns out, I had pneumonia in one of my lungs, and so I got a prescription medication that's supposed to help, and was told to talk to her in a few days.

I take the medication. I start sleeping in a chair because it's the only way to keep me from coughing every ten seconds. I keep coughing. I throw up four times in one day. I start getting worse. The medication is supposed to help within two-to-three days. Five days later, I'm not better. I talk to my doctor again. She tells me to go the hospital, and I do.

Turns out, I got fucking double pneumonia in both my lungs, and I'm hospitalized for three goddamn days. No, this is not a joke. I literally came back from the hospital two days ago with a prescription, and now I'm (hopefully) on the road to a full recovery.

But yeah. The curse is real. It finally got me and I went to the goddamn hospital for it.

So that's where I've been! I'm sorry for any unanswered tags and for generally disappearing off of the face of the earth for over two weeks, but in my defence, I got pneumonia.

I'll probably slowly be returning to tumblr/ao3, but no promises on how consistent I'll be until I'm fully recovered....which will probably take a few weeks, but still!

#as for the time before my sickness #i got extremely hyperfocused on a mini-campaign that i'm gonna be running #it's gonna be my first time gm-ing a game #and i was REALLY into the research/prep #i literally stayed up till 2am working on it one night #but then i got sick #i genuinely didn't think the curse would get me #and lo and behold #it did #and lemme tell you #it sucks #i still can't talk for long periods of time without coughing #and i straight up lost my voice #jae's thoughts #tw hospital #tw vomiting #tw pneumonia

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dragonsarecool · 5 months ago

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June of Doom Day 12 - Dehydration

A/N: As it turns out, pregnancy isn't as smooth as Marty or Jennifer expected. Set 10-15 years after Part III.

It's not supposed to be this rough, is it?

Marty found himself physically cringing. It was the fourth time within ten minutes that he had heard Jennifer retching in the bathroom, and the grotesque sound was finally enough for him to start feeling nauseous. He turned back to the mirror as he finished with his tie. Geez, is this ever gonna stop? Surely her stomach's got nothing left in it now.

Even though it'd only been two weeks since Jennifer had shown him the positive test result, he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea of becoming a dad. Yes, he had seen physical proof of his descendants when they visited 2015, but he was very aware that they were now living out an alternate timeline; one where they might not become parents after all.

Given the way things were currently going, Marty wasn't sure Jennifer was going to be able to put up with being pregnant long enough to have the baby. Especially if it meant this vomiting didn't stop. From the limited knowledge he'd gained from high school sex ed, he knew that the first few weeks involved a little bit of morning sickness, but he was pretty sure Jennifer wasn't supposed to be married to the bathroom instead of him.

Only thirty-two weeks to go…

A loud crash from the bathroom startled him. Without bothering to knock, Marty burst into their ensuite, his face falling as he saw Jennifer trembling on her knees, sobbing hysterically over the toilet bowl. "Jen?"

Jennifer opened her mouth to answer, only to become caught between a retch and a sob. She slammed the toilet seat in anger, gasping into the bowl as her diaphragm spasmed. "…Can't…take…this…!"

"I know, honey, I know," Marty dropped to the floor beside his wife, pulling her tangled hair away from the toilet and stroking her cheek. They'd performed this routine so many times over the last six weeks, at all hours of the day, and it was becoming clear that Jennifer wasn't coping.

Or rather, her body wasn't coping with the hormone influx.

Part of him had thought about calling his mom and asking her advice, but given that they were still yet to announce anything, he decided it would stay their secret for now.

Given Jennifer's deteriorating condition, he realised that may not be an option for much longer.

Marty lifted Jennifer's chin gently as he took a moment to properly examine her in the glaring bathroom light. Her normally-glowing face was dull and slightly sunken, her rosy skin having faded to ashen white. While she had lost a little bit of weight before becoming pregnant, the process had been rapidly accelerated and was now undeniably obvious, especially in her cheeks.

What bothered him the most was how the sparkle behind her eyes had been fading, weakening as the days went by. Instead of an excited young mom-to-be who'd already started buying baby clothes, all he could see now was a sick and fatigued woman that could barely stand on her own.

He reached up to the sink above them, half-filling a glass before passing it to Jennifer. "Honey, I think we should get you to a hospital."

Jennifer shook her head as she took a reluctant sip, her hand shaking as she gripped the glass tightly. "…I'm…fine…"

"Jenny, the toilet has become your second husband since you found out!" Marty said exasperatedly. "Y-You can't keep anything down, for God's sake! I can't…" He took a few moments to calm himself - there was no point in both of them crying over the toilet - before giving Jennifer a warm kiss on the forehead. "I can't bear seeing you like this, honey."

Jennifer's red-rimmed eyes rapidly blinked away a fresh onslaught of tears. She took a second sip to swirl around her mouth before spitting into the toilet. "…This sucks."

Marty couldn't help but snicker at how she delivered her thoughts. He'd already decided the recording session would have to wait; his work today was entirely devoted to Jennifer. "Makes me wonder why my mom had three of us. But something is definitely up, 'cause you shouldn't be spewing this much."

Jennifer nodded, releasing her ironclad grip on the porcelain as she weakly shifted into his waiting arms. Arms enveloping his love, Marty gingerly lifted Jennifer from the floor in a bridal style, careful not to jostle her as he lay her on top of the bedsheets. "I'm gonna go call the midwife and get her two cents before I pack the car-"

"Marty-"

"Let me do this, Jen, please," Marty's voice shook as he knelt at the bedside, grasping Jennifer's clammy hand tightly. "Please, let me take care of you, so you can take care of our baby."

His free hand settled over Jennifer's slightly-bloated stomach, massaging the skin lovingly before giving it a kiss. "You're only eight weeks old, kid, and you're already a pain in the ass."

He grinned as Jennifer giggled quietly, kissing her tummy again. It'll all be worth it, honey. I promise.

#bttf #back to the future #fanfiction #whump #juneofdoom #june of doom 2024

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spikybanana · 2 years ago

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this... got long. why do I attempt plot? part six of the jegulily mini series. prompt: party [masterpost here] [prompts here]

Nearly another year had passed before everything came to a head in a single day.

Lily vaguely wondered if everyone’s early adulthood had every year feeling like ten, or was the war taking everything from them. Already they’ve lost people, no one close to them yet, dear god, but at the bottom of her soul she knew it was only a matter of time. It’s been more than half a year since anyone had heard from Mary, and her absence lodged like an ice chip between the girls whenever they saw each other. The boys were struggling too. The last time James and Peter saw each other had both close to tears, frustrated at the unassailable distance creeping between them. Remus and Sirius still floo in from time to time, of course, but ever since they started saying there’s a spy in the order— well. Lily worried for them. She wished they’d each trust themselves a little more. As for London, the city suited Remus and Sirius well enough, them wild, lost boys, but after a year, Lily decided they’ve had enough of the city’s frantic airlessness. Day in, day out scrambling between Mungo’s, the Ministry and the Order made her feel like the frozen traffic, and she wasn’t going to stand another day of accepting the weight of London’s ever-darkening sky into her chest. So they— left. Picked out a cottage in Godric’s Hollow that James and Regulus both pitched in to buy with a shrug (their casual wealth had never ceased to amuse her). And where they had a little more space, a little more peace, it became a little easier to find hours that were just James and Regulus and her, cuddled by the fireplace or having a dinner of spaghetti bolognese under candlelight. Since Reg finished school, they’ve also had the long-yearned-for luxury of full nights together, even though he still had to appease the parents from time to time. And god, wasn’t it sweet to love. At least here, there was a shadow of a quiet, happy future.

But for long months, the horcrux business has seen no progress. Every lead they had led to dead ends. There wasn't even an indication for if their search was over: Riddle had told Slughorn he'd split his soul into seven— but did that mean there were seven horcruxes? Or six? And had he even gone through with it all? Was he constantly making new ones as they pick up on the old? All difficult questions, for sure. If any of the rest of them trusted Dumbledore a little more, the wizened old man probably would have better ideas than turning over the debris of Wool's orphanage again, but alas.

The break did come, eventually. Out of nowhere, it seemed, two pieces of clues flew at them. Within days of each other, Remus and Sirius finally found the Gaunt’s house and Regulus found out about the cave through the incident with Kreacher.

One can imagine the excitement incurred, but they couldn’t and didn’t act directly, all five of them swarming like a hive upon their target. Their positions were precarious now, their every act would be scrutinised as overt Order members or the should-be Death Eater everyone expected to have taken the mark straight out of school. And what if they fail? What if they get found out at one point before they could get to the other? That was the point when Sirius proposed what Lily thought was apparently-ingenious but equally could-be-disastrous. That they split up. If Regulus investigated the cave with Kreacher, and Sirius and James headed for the Gaunt’s house— that leaves Remus and Lily on backup if anything should be needed.

“Lovely.” Remus had grimaced drily, “I shall patiently await my lover’s return from war.”

Lily had chuckled and shoved him. “Don’t be grumpy,” then dropping her voice so only Remus could hear, “I need you to come with me to the hospital… There’s something I need to check.”

Remus’ eyes widened, but he didn’t press for questions, nor protest further.

Such was the prelude that brought them to the present moment, the two of them in an empty house, waiting very patiently indeed. In fact, Lily sat frozen on their sofa, her mind at once stunned and racing. Remus was no longer trying to make comforting conjectures, only had an arm around her and slowly massaged her shoulder. Dear god, Lily thought, and they were only twenty.

Then, with a bang, the front door opened— or fell down, she wasn’t sure— Remus and Lily scrambled up in time to see James and Sirius stumbling through onto the ground in a pile. They were panting heavily, their clothes thoroughly rumpled and charred at places, even James’ glasses was half-coated with soot. His eyes found Lily’s, and he sprung up—

“Lily!” James exclaimed, his hands immediately at her face, touching her cheeks, her hair, down her arms, as if checking she was still real. “Are you— is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes. We’re fine! What happened to you?” Her voice was tight with anxiety. She glanced at Sirius, who impatiently waved off the wand Remus held out to check for any wounds.

“Has Regulus gotten back yet?”

“No! James, what happened?”

“Well, we’ve. We’ve got news.”

For a moment, all the blood rushed to Lily’s head. “Oh. Me too.” She whispered, before she shook herself and returned her attention to the boys. "What–"

"Dumbledore found out. So did Voldemort. Not in that order." Sirius snapped.

“Well fuck.” Remus breathed.

Fuck indeed. Lily did not think the worst could actually have happened. Though this was certainly not the worst possible, given that they all got back with limbs intact, except—

"How do we get to Reg?" Sirius spoke her thoughts out loud. Anxious looks flitted between them.

"Kreacher!” Lily exclaimed, “Can you still summon him?"

Sirius blinked, “Yes. Yes you’re right.” he glanced furtively at Lily’s ‘don’t-sound-so-surprised’ look, then called out. “Kreacher!”

There was a single beat of silence, then the air contracted and swirled in anticipation of a long apparation. In the next moment, Regulus fell through, barely supported by Kreacher, and all four of them fell upon him.

“Merlin, you hoard of hens,” Regulus rasped, before falling into a chain of coughs.

At first glance, Regulus looked horrible. Drenched from head to toe and covered with scratches on his clothes, his skin, as if he’d been pulled out of a mob of pale, thin claws. But Lily could tell, while his face was pale it wasn’t sick from curse or poison, and his limbs were warm under her palm.

James was on his knees, supporting Regulus from his back. Sirius carefully took up one of Regulus’ hands, and Remus, somehow clear-headed, had him dried and the small wounds healed in seconds. And in the feverish assurance that they were together, they were— safe— Lily couldn’t help it, she pulled Regulus’ still-stunned face to hers and kissed him full on the mouth, then pulled James into the kiss too. She squeezed her eyes shut. At least one of them was crying in relief because there were tears mingled with the kiss.

Regulus eventually pulled away. A fearful frown had made its way between his brows. “Voldemort.” He breathed.

James nodded. “He found us first.”

“Ah.” Regulus’ sharp gaze somehow betrayed not a hint of surprise. “How long since you got back?”

“You were only minutes behind us.” Sirius replied, “We had to report to Dumbledore. He’s got to deal with the rest, now. We can’t risk going back out there, he’s seen all three of us.”

“Do you reckon,” Remus suggested, “that Voldemort went on a raging rampage to check up the other horcruxes, before he got to Reg?”

“We think so.” James said, “should have bought you some time.”

Regulus frowned still. “How did he find you in the first place? A curse around the house would have been too detectable, you didn’t fall for something of that sort?”

“Won’t you have some faith in us?” his brother bristled. “We were tracked. By the sort of spell that’s nearly undetectable when cast by familiar magic.”

“...The spy.” Lily breathed.

“Was I right?” Regulus looked at Sirius then. For long, silent moments, two pairs of slate eyes were caught in a bone-chilling stare.

“It’s Peter.” Sirius relented finally.

It’s too much. It was simply too much for the moment. Lily could feel Remus crumbling in waves from beside her. They’d been close. All of them had been close. But not since school, not since— Lily swallowed the reflexive guilt that came pouring in with anger and thought, if only she could hold them together now.

“I assume you’re not still being tracked.” She murmured, taking James hands and squeezing tight.

“No. Dumbledore found the spell and took it off us. Was how he found who it was.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.” It didn’t sound at all like an entirely light magical procedure, rifling through the magic entangled with a person.

“It was invasive. He did what he had to do.” James caught sight of Regulus’ tight jaw, and nudged him. “How was the cave?”

“Fucking Salazer, Potter. How was the cave? There was an army of inferi guarding a locket in a basin of poison, all in all a very scenic visit.” Regulus took a deep breath, “And how was the house?”

“Burning.” Sirius said with a glint in his eyes. “We found the ring. Burnt it on sight.”

“Voldemort knows how to put out Fiendfyre.”

“We got there before him. The house was already engulfed in flames, he could have done anything.”

“Right, this is all great to hear,” Remus interjected, standing up. “But I assume we’re going into hiding now, all of us.”

“Oh yes, to be locked up with these three in their shack.”

“Sirius, please listen.”

“Fine.”

Remus ignored Sirius’ pout. “How do we do this? Fidelius? I know the spell.”

“Right,” Sirius chuckled, hysterical, “No big deal. Just attempt one of the most complex security spells off the top of your head.”

“And how else? You don’t seem to have a book of reference, do you?” Regulus snapped.

“Just let him do it!” Lily worried for herself. For her having chosen to make a family of these boys.

Remus hesitated again, “who… do we want as secret keeper?”

“Oh my god, I don’t care!” Lily yelled. “Make it yourself, anyone, just make it quick. Don’t we have Voldemort himself on our tail now?”

Later, they would apologise to each other for their abruptness, but in the last dozen minutes, the world had turned on its head. Too much have happened, and Lily hoped the alcohol cupboard was well-stocked because they deserved a party after this ordeal.

“Wait. Lily?” James said, just as he stood up to help Remus, “did you say you’ve also got news?”

“Ah. yes.” Lily’s heart instantly went into overdrive. She stared at her lovers, James’ guileless curiosity and Regulus’ vague concern, and knew that this— this utterly ridiculous moment in the mess of a circumstance was going to be branded in her memories forever.

“So I… I’m pregnant.”

#jegulily #james potter #lily evans #regulus black #jegulily week 2022 #sirius black #remus lupin #the horcrux hunt #marauders fanfiction #fix it #everyone lives #this might need some heavy duty editing come morning

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