#I’m tired I’m barely happy lately and this is making it worst

[yoohyeon]

If my parents learned how to apologize, 90% of the fight we have wouldn’t happen….

[suhkusa]

HELLOOOO i see you opened ur req👀 can I req for suna or atsumu suddenly getting a girlfriend, like hardlaunching her on social media, after almost a year of being on and off... can it be angst to comfort/fluff (pls i want to cope so bad from my prev situationship bahaaaaahahha) tysm just so u know i love u and ur works and prolly the first one to like em immediately>< <3

CASUAL.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, situationship-to-relationship lol

A/N. ouchhh i hope this is good anon ><

Being in a situationship with Atsumu Miya was the absolute worst.

Sometimes it felt like he was stringing you along in his little game, while other times it felt like you two were truly meant to be together. 

There were many invisible boundaries in the relationship, or talking stage, or whatever he wanted to call it, that were made without having to say a thing. 

It was mutually exclusive, so no talking to other people romantically.

You two didn’t post each other on social media.

The two of you would make it official when you both were ready.

The rules were easy to follow. Though, you had always been a bit iffy on the third one. When would the two of you deem yourselves “ready” when you’ve already been talking for so long?

———

The worst part about Atsumu, was that he was so indecisive. 

One minute, the two of you could be acting as if you were a married couple. Going on dates, spending time at each other’s houses, and late night calls. The two of you even had pet names for each other! 

But then the next minute, he decides his volleyball career is more important. Or that he’s too busy. Or that he wants a break. Or that you’re too controlling. So many excuses, yet every time he calls out to you to come back, you come running back head over heels. 

And it hurts. It hurts being with him even though you two had never made it official. How could you feel so tethered and intertwined with a man who never had the guts to ask you to be his and only his? Who never posts you on social media?

You weren’t controlling. You were just tired of this cat and mouse game. You just wanted certainty and reassurance. 

Was that so much to ask for?

Apparently for Atsumu Miya, it is.

“I don’t get it Atsumu, why can’t we just say we’re together? Everyone already knows we basically are!” you sigh. 

The two of you sat in his apartment as the TV played in the midst of your argument. This was definitely one of the worst arguments that had occurred between you two.

“If we’re basically together then why can’t you just be happy? Do I need to ask you out? To post you?” he rebuttals, his voice clearly agitated.

“Because! You haven’t asked me out. That stuff is the bare minimum yet I’m here begging. You’re so comfortable in this weird limbo talking stage where it’s so easy for you to leave me and then hope I come crawling back!” you cry, you hadn’t even realized you started to cry. “I’m so, so tired of this shit!”

“If you’re so tired, then leave!”

Usually during the short breaks of your situationship with Atsumu Miya, it was always him who had decided to call it off. But his words had snapped a cord in you that had already been thinned to its last thread.

The two of you share a tense look, both unmoving. It’s you who decides to break the silence.

“Me? Leave? Hah, fine. I will,” you’re quick to grab your bag on the side table.

“Wait, Y/N-”

“And don’t expect me to come crawling back to you, Miya. This time you really did it,”

He freezes when you open the door, eyes filled with tears as you look back at him. 

“Bye,”

The door shuts before he could say anything.

What was he supposed to do now?

———

If Atsumu knew one thing for sure, it was that he was stupid. 100%, a million times over, he was an idiot.

His concept of love and relationships were hindered during his high school days. The ability to commit was a hard idea to grasp onto. 

But you were different. 

You were kind and patient, unlike any one he’s ever known, and he was undeniably scared. Scared to lose you, scared to fuck up. And so what did he do every time he got scared?

He ran away and gave you some bullshit excuse. But even then, you’d come back time and time again.

But now it is different. He told you to leave and you really did. You wouldn’t come back to him willingly.

Atsumu’s stupid. That’s why he’s at your doorstep in the rain.

He rings the doorbell. He’s shocked when you open it on the first attempt.

“What are you doing?” your quiet voice says.

Atsumu takes in your disheveled appearance. You definitely had been crying based on your swollen eyes.

“I—” Atsumu can’t find the words. He’s really scared.

“If you’re going to yell at me or ask me to come back, you better be ready to beg me Atsumu, I’m not doing a stupid “talking stage” or some cheap crap you come up with,”

“I’m sorry, I-l fucked up really bad,”

You don’t say anything in response, allowing him to continue. 

“I love you so much,” he’s stuttering, “I’m really scared but I want to try with you, I want to be with you, for real this time,”

“And if I say yes, are you just going to leave me when it’s convenient for you?” your own voice sounds a bit hesitant. 

“No, no. I promise you. I mean everything that’s coming out of my mouth,”

You look like you’re lost in thought for a split second before you speak. “I’ll be with you, Atsumu. For real,” you smile as you mock his words.

Another moment passes by, and before you know it, you’re kissing him and he kisses you.

———

ATSUMU MIYA HAS MADE A NEW POST.

[tsumumiya]: my person ❤️

[yn.lnnnn commented]: ughh loves it <3 ure so cute ml

>>> [tsumumiya replied]: I LOVE YOU!!!!!

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[yeoblurbs]

Clockwork

University AU - angst with a happy ending, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Female Reader (ft. Yeonjun of TXT x Reader)

Synopsis: Being best friends with Jung Wooyoung was everything you could imagine. That is, until you catch feelings for him. Now, you navigate a heartbreak minus the rejection, and Wooyoung doesn’t seem to like it.

WC: 8.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of scars, subtle hints of disassociation in the beginning, mentions of spiraling, one harassment scene. less serious stuff —> making out, somewhat possessive!Wooyoung(not toxic), Wooyoung gets jealous:>, kind of idiots to lovers. kind of slow burn. apologies for any typos I’m afraid I can’t re read this even one more time

the hollow feeling in your chest eats at you while you lay on your couch, snuggled in a blanket clad in one of Wooyoung’s soft grey hoodies. you pull the hood up over your head and stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

would you ever find someone who loved you enough? someone who would stick by you after seeing you at your worst; someone who would kiss the scars on your body and reassure you when you got insecure. someone who would look at you with overwhelming love and whisper I love you between kisses on your skin.

you wanted it to be Wooyoung. god, you wanted him to love you like that, but Wooyoung has only ever looked at you like his best friend. and you should be thankful for that, after all, you were so incredibly lucky to be close to Wooyoung, able to receive the intense amount of love and care he has to offer.

but you can’t help but feel selfish and wish for more.

a knock on your door pulls you from your spiraling. you allow yourself to stare into nothingness for a second longer before pulling yourself together and getting up to open the door.

the winter breeze feels crisp against your bare legs. you look up to see who’s visited you so late, and there he is; dressed in baggy jeans and a black tee shirt layered with a jacket much too large for him, there was Wooyoung. your Wooyoung.

well, in your dreams anyway.

you’re once again pulled out of your spiraling when he calls out to you with that irritatingly gentle, yet teasing voice of his, “Y/n? Are you gonna let me in?” and suddenly you’re back to reality.

the cold night air brushes against your skin again, goosebumps arising in their wake; a reminder of how cold Wooyoung must be.

you roll your eyes and smile, grabbing Wooyoung's arm and pulling him in. he lets you lock the door before engulfing you in a hug. you inhale softly at the smell of his subtle cologne and wrap your arms around his back, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself the selfishness of wanting him close. but he breaks the hug a moment later, looking at you with that maddening smile and you feel yourself relax in his presence.

“So, what’re we watching?” he asks lightly, pulling your arm towards the couch as if he lives there. and he might as well, with how often he sleeps over. he removes his jacket, throwing it on the couch before sitting down. you struggle to not ogle his arms, “Nothing, actually.”

you plop down on the couch next to him, an unfamiliar distance between the two of you. you hope he won’t notice, but Wooyoung looks at you with an unreadable expression as he observes the space.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, serious eyes boring into yours.

of course, he noticed immediately, you think fondly. “I’m just tired, honestly. but let’s watch something?” you smile, trying to change the subject.

Wooyoung lets it go, but only after squinting his eyes and moving closer to you. you sigh when his shoulder touches yours, craving the skinship yet hating yourself for it.

Wooyoung decides on a random movie, and while you were distracted throughout the film, your eyes immediately snap to his phone when a notification pops up. Wooyoung picks it up, swipes to open the message, and text back.

you force yourself not to check who he’s texting and speak casually, “What is it?”

he glances up at you before looking down and shutting his phone off, “Just Miyu, she’s asking if we can see each other tomorrow.”

“Oh, are you guys a thing then?” a forced smile makes its way to your face, though you ensure it looks genuine enough for Wooyoung to not notice.

he exhales, “Honestly? Not really. I like her and I think she’s really cute, but I’m not sure I see myself in a committed relationship with her.”

Wooyoung runs a hand through his two-toned hair, black strands falling over the blonde, “I’ll see how it goes though after a few dates.”

“Good luck!” you smile; a response you always gave whenever Wooyoung told you he was dating someone. because although it hurt, you wished him happiness, even if that meant he found it in someone else.

the rest of the night goes uneventful, but you can’t stop thinking about the fact that something needs to change. you don’t want to do it anymore; you don’t want to sit on the sidelines and watch your best friend fall in love with someone other than you.

but Wooyoung was never going to choose you, so perhaps it was time you found someone who would.

you needed to move on, you realize. not only for yourself, but so you could continue to be close with Wooyoung even after he ultimately finds another girl; someone who isn't you. with a goal in mind, you bite your lip and click the contact of the only person you could think of; Hongjoong.

-

"So what, i’m supposed to just ask for his number?" you sigh, already regretting asking for his help.

Hongjoong crosses his arms, "Yes, exactly that. Men love when women ask for their numbers, something about the assertiveness or some shit like that.” he shrugs.

you squint wearily at him, “Well, you don’t sound so convinced yourself, but I don’t really have anyone else to ask,”

you groan as you watch Hongjoong’s face stretch into a smirk. “Okay, asshole, when should I do it?”

“Do it today after your last class.” Hongjoong moves closer to you and whispers, “From what I know, Yeonjun’s class ends at the same time as yours. So when he’s leaving the building, you just need to be ready to catch him.”

you pout at his instructions, unsure how you’ll manage to do something like this. Hongjoong pats your head in comfort. “Okay… thank you Joongie, I’ll try my best.”

You move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, “No need to thank me Y/nie, just let me know how it goes, and if he’s an ass to you I’ll beat him up.” he pulls back at you to wink and you push him away with a laugh. Well, what could possibly go wrong?

-

Everything is going wrong. you were supposed to be running out of class immediately to find Yeonjun, but someone accidentally ran into you, dumping their entire large caramel macchiato on you in the process.

and unlucky for you, you were wearing white; now you had to put off asking Yeonjun out and walk home with sticky skin and a stained shirt.

you ruffle your hands in your hair frustratedly as you exit the school building, regretting not bringing a hoodie that day. in your rushed walk towards your car, you fail to notice someone standing right in front of you.

you run straight into their chest.

“Oh my fucking-, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” you blurt out quickly, eyes filling up with tears in exhaustion as you look up to see Yeonjun.

Yeonjun.

No, No. No. this could not be happening.

you were supposed to ‘casually’ run into him with your hair neatly done and your outfit clean, but here you were with a huge stain on your chest and mascara tainting your tears.

your eyes move towards the floor as a tear falls, avoiding eye contact as you quickly wipe it away.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. nothing to apologize or get upset for,” he reassures, hands scrambling before landing on your shoulders.

he bends down to catch your eyes, “You okay? Doesn’t look like you’re having a very good day.”

and maybe it’s because you’re fed up with the events that occurred. not just the stupid sticky shirt but your stupid massive crush on your best friend that hasn’t gone away no matter how hard you try that you’re talking to the guy you were supposed to ask out to get over him and-

Yeonjun tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, staring at you in concern as you sniffle, trying to calm down and not have a total mental breakdown in front of someone you were not close with.

“Uh… I don’t exactly know what’s making you so sad, but if you need anything I’m here, even if we don’t know each other so well.” he smiles cutely, and your eyes dart to his full lips before glancing back at his eyes.

you don’t say anything, mind scattered and tired after the long day you’ve had. you wonder how you’re even functioning in this conversation with one of the hottest guys you’ve seen.

Yeonjun pouts once he realizes you are too tired to speak, before an idea comes to mind and his eyes light up. he grabs the hem of his hoodie and pulls it over his head, ruffling his hand through his hair as he hands it to you.

you don’t understand, this interaction is a lot more confusing than you initially thought it would be. but perhaps that was just your luck. your hands reach out unsure, so he pushes the hoodie in your arms firmly.

you clutch the lavender coloured fabric in your hands tightly, looking up at him in confusion. “What’s this for?”

he smiles again. you find you really like his smile. not as much as Wooyoungs though, an evil voice in your head reminds you. you frown as you ignore it.

“Well, I’m going to assume one of the things that’s got you so upset is about your shirt, so don’t worry about it, you can return the hoodie whenever you want,” he reassures kindly.

Your cheeks feel hot as you remember the humiliating stain. “Ah… I see. Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“It’s okay, honestly! Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

you bite your lip and nod, before remembering your mission to ask for his number. would it be too awkward now? would he even want to speak to you after this odd encounter? your mind races as you think of what to do next.

luckily, Yeonjun picks for you.

“I don’t really know if this is an appropriate time to ask, but could I by chance get your number?” he looks to the side, rubbing the back of his neck as a light blush coats his cheeks.

your face brightens at his question, and a soft laugh bubbles out of you at the sight of his blush.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

he opens his phone and hands it to you. your fingers shake as you type your number in, but you hand it back to him with a steady smile.

“Thanks, I should get going, but I hope the rest of your day goes well.” he winks.

your eyebrows raise at his sudden confidence, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it attractive.

“Okay,” you smile, “Thank you for the hoodie, really it means a lot.”

he shakes his head back at you, “It was nothing, seriously. and I’ll text you later!”

you bow your head, agreeing as you watch him wave before jogging to his friends.

you clutch the hoodie in your hands tightly as you turn to walk to your car. you smile giddily,

mission accomplished.

-

it’s a Friday evening.

Wooyoung lays on your bed unceremoniously as he scrolls on his phone while you search your closet for an outfit to wear to the party tonight.

while normally you would’ve gone for something a little more comfortable, you decide to go for something more risky.

you did enjoy parties, but tonight you had someone’s attention to catch. someone who wasn’t the boy sitting on your bed.

“I don’t get why you’re putting so much thought into it. We go to parties all the time, what’s so different about this one?” Wooyoung nags, body laying on his side as he’s perched up on his hand, elbow digging into the mattress.

you huff, “Because! I just want to look prettier tonight, isn’t that a valid reason itself?”

Wooyoung looks at you suspiciously before sighing, “Fine, fine! I’ll find out the truth eventually y/nie,”

you roll your eyes at his tone before looking in the full-body mirror. you have a tight black skirt on paired with a matching fitted cropped shirt. underneath the skirt are sheer stockings, and you top it off with an oversized leather jacket.

your makeup and hair are already done, styled in your preferred way as you twirl in front of your mirror with a happy smile. this will surely catch Yeonjun's attention tonight, and your stomach swirls with joy at the thought.

a cough breaks you out of your stupor and you look up to find Wooyoung staring at you with wide eyes. his cheeks are tinted red as he licks his bottom lip.

“What? Does it look bad?” You look down self-consciously, unused to Wooyoung looking at you like that. you wonder if this outfit will catch more attention than you predicted.

he shakes his head and relaxes his face, “No, no. I was just surprised.”

he smirks, “You look hot.”

your lips part stupidity as you swiftly turn around to face the mirror again. “Shut up,” you mumble, ignoring the way your heart jumped at his words.

-

Loud music blares through your ears as you step foot into the party, eyes scanning the chaotic room for someone familiar. Wooyoung grabs your hand, lacing your fingers with his as he pulls you towards your mutual friends. you stare at your intertwined hands in awe before remembering that it meant nothing.

nothing to him at least.

your fingers slip from his grasp once you reach your friends and he looks at you in confusion. you smile reassuringly at him, however, and he turns back without noticing anything.

you bite your lip as you look around; you need to leave. not the party, but you need to leave from Wooyoung's side. you don’t belong there. you never have.

you tug at Wooyoung's arm to get his attention, prompting him to bend down as you speak into his ear, “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Okay! Just let me tell them and we can go.” he smiles dazzlingly, but you frown in response.

“No! Stay here, it’s okay! I’ll get it myself.”

the smile slowly slips from his face and his brows furrow. you look around anxiously, you don’t know why you feel so nervous. "Alright, just be careful and call me if you need anything, okay?” he grabs your arm, gazing at you seriously, and your stomach rolls at his protectiveness. you wish he wouldn’t be so perfect. but this was Wooyoung, so that was rather impossible.

you nod at him in response before leaving, letting out a breath when you were far enough.

you glance back at Wooyoung who is speaking animatedly, upset that you couldn’t enjoy yourself with him all because of your selfish feelings. you ignore the internal pull to be close and turn back around.

until you bump directly into someone’s chest.

“Fuck, what is wrong with me lately?” you murmur to yourself, rubbing your nose lightly before looking up.

“I’m so- Yeonjun?!”

the universe is not on your side it appears, as the Choi Yeonjun is in front of you looking at you with that cute boyish smile. you want to melt into a puddle of embarrassment then and there.

he chuckles at your expression, “So, is running into people always your thing? Or is that exclusive to me only?” his lips stretch into a grin.

“Seems to be exclusive to you, unfortunately,” you say teasingly, giggling at his offended look.

he puts a hand above his heart appearing wounded, “Unfortunately?! I will have you know it should be considered an honor to bump into me.”

“Considered an honor by who? Yourself?” you gloat, enjoying the flirty banter with a guy you found immensely attractive.

he clicks his tongue before giving up the facade and smiling genuinely. “I thought you said you’d text me when you got here.” he pouts at you; you have to force yourself to look away from his lips.

you and Yeonjun had been texting ever since your little run-in on campus. he knew you were coming here, hence the fact that you also put in more effort for your look today. you hadn’t exactly told Wooyoung about him either, unsure how your best friend would react to you randomly finding interest in dating.

“I just got here! I was going to text you once I got a drink, I promise.”

he nods sulkily, and you suddenly think he and Wooyoung would get along well. “Okay then, let’s go get you a drink?” he asks, grabbing your hand to lead you.

you stare at your hand in his as he leads you through the swarm of people. his is much larger than yours, warmth radiating off him so intensely you wish you could feel butterflies. but it is nothing in comparison to how you feel with your hand intertwined with Wooyoungs, and your heart dims at the realization.

the rest of the night goes by fast and enjoyable, and you find yourself enamoured with Yeonjun. but as much as you wish you liked him romantically, you find him amazing platonically at best.

you feel as though you are fighting a losing battle, and that using Yeonjun to get over Wooyoung would not only fail, but be selfish in case he caught feelings for you.

so when it gets a little too late, you make your way back to Wooyoung. Yeonjun is still next to you, and the two of you are engaging in a very serious conversation about whether or not water is wet when you feel someone grab your waist softly.

you jump at the feeling, unintentionally moving closer to Yeonjun until you turn around to find Wooyoung.

you relax at the sight of him, now gravitating to Wooyoung subconsciously, “Hi! Ready to go? I’m so tired and my head is pounding from the music.”

Wooyoung smiles at you, but it looks forced. “Yeah, yeah. Who’s this?” he tilts his head toward Yeonjun, and you blanch as you realize what kind of situation you put yourself in. but it shouldn’t go awry; the two didn’t know each other, and Wooyoung had no idea that you were interested in Yeonjun- if you could even call it that.

“This is Yeonjun, he goes to our University. He’s majoring in Dance actually, just like you!” you try unsure, glancing back to Yeonjun to assess his face.

he doesn’t look as standoffish as Wooyoung however, seeming rather amused as he eyes Wooyoung's hand on your waist.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t hog Y/n to myself all night.”

Wooyoung's hand tightens as he takes a step closer to you. you can smell the cologne on him and feel the heat coming from him on your back.

Wooyoung laughs, but it is far from genuine, “No, of course not. Y/n is her own person, she can hang out with whoever she wants, even if it’s with someone like you.”

your head whips to Wooyoung, face scandalized at his last words. you push at his chest, moving him away from Yeonjun, “Dude, not fucking cool.”

you turn back to Yeonjun, ignoring the way he is still staring at Wooyoung in mirth.

“I’m sorry, he’s had a long night and too much to drink, we should get going.” You slap your hand over Wooyoung's mouth when he moves to open it, giving a crooked smile to Yeonjun as Wooyoung fumbles beneath your hand.

Yeonjun glances at Wooyoung before his eyes land on you, “No worries, I get it. Just text me when you get home. I’ll see you on Monday?”

you nod quickly, “Yeah, of course, I’ll see you then!”

without another word, you grab Wooyoung's arm and drag him out of the house and into his car. once seated in the passenger seat, you open your hand and look at him expectantly.

he glances to your open palm, “What?”

“Keys.” you sigh, wanting this night to be over so you can lay in bed and go to sleep.

Wooyoung places the keys in your hand with a pout and you clutch them before standing up, shutting his door, and getting in the driver's seat.

“So, Yeonjun huh? Didn’t know you two were so close.” Wooyoung says, voice cutting the deafening silence. your hands tighten on the wheel as you focus on the road.

Wooyoung is still sulking, and while you have no idea why, you also have no interest in finding out. his behavior in front of Yeonjun was extremely uncalled for and disrespectful, and you would give him an earful had he not drank anything tonight. “C'mon, Y/nie, don’t ignore me. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have talked to him like that but I just... got bad vibes from him.”

you roll your eyes at his words, though some of your anger diminishes at his apology. well, at least he knew why you were upset.

“Bad vibes? Why? You’ve spoken to him for a total of two minutes.”

Wooyoung deflates. it seems he knows he is being unreasonable. “I dunno, okay? But listen, I’m allowed to be upset too. You haven’t told me anything about your relationship with Yeonjun, and I'm your best friend.”

you glance at his crestfallen face before sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry too. I should have told you about him, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“It’s okay I guess, but I’ll only forgive you on one condition.”

you narrow your eyes at him before looking back to the road, “And what would that be?”

Wooyoung grins mischievously, “You tell me all about it. When did you first meet, how did you first meet, how often do you text? And most importantly, how it went tonight with him!” he rambles excitedly, and you hate that he seems so happy at the prospect of you speaking to a guy.

and so you begin to tell Wooyoung the events leading up to the party, including the details such as your stained shirt, the hoodie, the fact that the two of you have been texting for quite a while, and why you dressed up tonight.

he nods excitedly at you as you go through the events while driving, but you fail to notice the dimness in his eyes and how his smile seems a little more strained as you go on a tangent about Yeonjun's cute lips.

you arrive home soon after, dropping Wooyoung off and parking his car before walking to your apartment. the two of you lived quite close.

once in bed, you recount the events that occurred at the party, stomach lurching when you remember Wooyoung's possessive hand on you.

but then the butterflies morph into moths, an ugly wretched feeling of yearning swallows you whole, and you find yourself spiraling at the realization that you are zero steps closer to getting over Jung Wooyoung. you have merely been going in circles from the start.

Wooyoung on the other hand, lays in bed with a permanent frown. he doesn’t understand the irritation he feels towards Yeonjun, and he certainly doesn’t understand why he felt threatened by seeing you two together. you were his best friend, and that’s all you’ve ever been to him.

but as he stares at his ceiling and pictures a life where you are not his, he wonders if you’ve meant more to him all along.

-

"I’m going to break things off with Yeonjun." You rest your head on your hands, elbows perched on the table in front of you.

Hongjoong sits before you, mouth open as he looks at you as if you are crazy. and perhaps you are for even thinking of letting Yeonjun go, but you were never really a selfish person, much less a selfish lover. and while you were not considered Yeonjun's lover just yet, you figure you need to pull back now before the tide takes you too far, leaving you stranded and alone drowning in your own consequences.

he exhales rather dramatically, "Are you sure? I'm going to be honest, I don't understand at all. Everything has been going so well! Why would you give up now?"

"But it hasn't been going so well Joong. I find him attractive but my feelings for Wooyoung are still very much there and alive." You take a sip of your drink, allowing the cool beverage to calm you. "I don't want to be one of those assholes who lead someone on when they aren't over their first crush or whatever."

you shake your head, "That's never going to be me."

Hongjoong nods understandingly. "Well, if you put it like that I can't really disagree."

he reaches over from across the table to pat your head comfortingly, "I'm proud of you, though. You are so selfless, it makes me worry someone will take advantage of you." You smile abashed at his praise, having always looked up to Hongjoong.

"Don't worry, I'm strong too, okay? I learned from you, after all." You smile as he scoffs teasingly.

Hongjoong glances out the window before looking back at you, "So, when are you planning on breaking the news to him? And what do you plan to do after?"

you press your lips together, "I asked him to meet me in an hour, so hopefully that goes well."

"As for after that..." you smile bitterly, "Maybe I'll confess to Wooyoung. I don't know, maybe a rejection would help me move on properly."

Honghoong tilts his head up and down, "You're a good person, y'know? It's not selfish of you to catch feelings for someone. Stuff like that is inevitable."

"And confessing your feelings wouldn't be a burden, I know what you are thinking, you deserve an answer to your feelings, whether that is an acceptance or a rejection."

you smile at Hongjoong's words, "Thank you, my unpaid therapist I so dearly love."

"Anytime." he deadpans, and you giggle as you watch his face break out into a smile.

you leave the coffee shop soon after, enjoying the breeze as you walk back to campus to meet Yeonjun. you aren't sure how your talk will go, but you know you need to get everything off of your chest, including the guilt of leading Yeonjun on.

"Y/n!" a voice calls out from behind you, and you turn to see Yeonjun waving at you. He jogs up to you, smiling once he is close, "Hey! How are you doing?"

you grin softly at him, "I'm doing okay, how about you?"

he runs a hand through his hair, and you are once again reminded of his strikingly amazing looks. you hope he finds someone to appreciate him as he deserves. "I'm alright, but I'm guessing you have something to speak to me about after that ominous text."

"Yeah... you're right." you glance up at him before looking back in front of you. "Lets walk and I'll tell you?"

"Of course, start whenever you're ready."

you exhale shakily, "So, there is no easy way to say this, but for as long as I've known Wooyoung, I have had feelings for him," You bite your lip, ripping the bandaid off immediately. "Maybe it was something about the way he treated me, or the way he treated everyone else. He was just so full of love and I was immediately smitten."

you look up into Yeonjun's eyes, "It's been three years, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get over him." You move to stand directly in front of Yeonjun. "I owe you a massive apology. I am so incredibly sorry for showing interest in you despite having feelings for someone else. It wasn't right for me to practically use you, not when you have been so good to me from the beginning."

you finish your apology with a deep bow, only rising when Yeonjun scrambles to make you stand straight.

"Well, I can't say I'm totally surprised. I did see how he looked at you at the party, but I do appreciate the apology." he smiles, not seeming resentful in the slightest. you wonder if he was an angel in his past life.

but you're also confused, "What do you mean how he looked at me? It's unrequited, he only sees me as his best friend." Your mind races as you try to imagine what Yeonjun could possibly mean, but you try not to get your hopes up.

he tilts his head, "I just mean he looked really jealous, but I guess you didn't notice." You look at Yeonjun with furrowed brows, before pushing the thought out entirely. you could overthink this later, when you weren't in the presence of the sweet guy in front of you.

"Anyway! I just wanted to talk to you about that. I really am sorry, and I hope we can be friends even if I was a selfish asshole."

Yeonjun shakes his head seriously, "You are not a selfish asshole for trying to get over him. You telling me all of this now proves that you are much kinder than you give yourself credit for."

"And of course we're friends! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still not one hundred percent over my ex, so I hope that will ease your conscience." he pats your shoulder reassuringly.

you raise your eyebrows at his confession. "Thank you, seriously." You move to hug him and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him firmly.

what you don't notice, is your best friend staring at you a few feet away, your favorite donut in one hand and his iced americano in the other.

he eyes Yeonjun's arms wrapped around you, wanting nothing more than to pull him off and surround you with himself instead. you deserved someone better than Yeonjun. you deserved someone who would make you breakfast when you slept in; someone who would bring you hot cocoa between classes during harsh winters, and someone who would shower you with more love than you could possibly imagine.

he could do that for you; he could be that person for you.

Wooyoung's chest feels lighter when he realizes what this means, but his brows furrow as he watches you break apart from Yeonjun, looking up at him with a sweet smile. he pouts, glancing at the donut in his hand as he turns away, a new goal in mind.

he is going to pursue you. not Miyu, whom he hadn't had an interest in quite some time, nor Yujin, the girl from his class who wouldn't leave him alone. he doesn't know why he's been searching so hard for something- or someone who was right there all along.

but he has time to make up for it, and he certainly will.

The next time you see Wooyoung is during your break between classes. you are sitting at a bench outside, headphones on as you whisper the lyrics to 'Dust' by Seventeen.

you shriek when you feel a cold sensation on the back of your neck, pulling your headphones off as you hear that familiar cackle behind you. you glare at Wooyoung as he wipes tears from his eyes, finding you very amusing.

"I'm glad that was so funny to you," you say snarkily, but all Wooyoung does is beam at you in response. "You're not going to thank me? I drove all the way to the store to grab it."

you glance down at the cold drink in front of you, seeing your ultimate favorite beverage from a store all the way across town. you look up to Wooyoung with an excited smile, "Oh shit! Thank you, you really shouldn't have."

Wooyoung shrugs your comment off with a wave of his hand, but his cheeks burn pleasantly. he takes a seat next to you, nuzzling your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist and you freeze. you haven't been this close to Wooyoung in weeks, courtesy of the distance you implemented in order to get over him.

"I miss you," he whispers, and you relax instantly. the last thing you wanted was for Wooyoung to feel neglected in your friendship, so you accept his hug without a care for your initial goal.

you pat his head, running your hands through his hair as you notice it has gotten quite long. he melts underneath your touch, and you smile fondly. "You okay?" you ask.

Wooyoung lifts his head, facing you. the two of you are inches apart, and your heart races at the close proximity. you can see his precious dot, as he likes to call it; your eyes trace his nose bridge as your gaze falls to his lips, eyeing the beauty mark on his bottom lip.

he bites his lower lip, and you glance back up to his eyes, noticing his gaze stuck on your lips as well. you wonder what he’s thinking.

you swiftly turn to your laptop, "So, how was class?" Your cheeks feel hot, and your chest burns. you were about two seconds away from saying fuck it and kissing him.

Wooyoung sighs, "It was okay I guess. Nothing interesting, I'd rather be with you."

your stomach lurches at his words, but you turn to him puzzled. "Isn't Miyu in your last class? What happened?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I've just realized there are more important things for me to focus on. More important people to focus on."

you stare at his unusual seriousness, "Ah... I see."

he suddenly smiles brightly, "Plus, I'd rather be around my Y/nie than any other girl!" he moves to hug you again, and you stare bitterly at the drink in front of you.

you would never get over him. it was like clockwork.

-

"Okay, let's go?" you ask Wooyoung, who is once again perched up on your bed as you exit your bathroom, spraying your perfume and eyeing the black bodycon dress that hugged your body flatteringly.

when you look up Wooyoung is standing with his arms crossed, mouth pursed in a pout. you raise your eyebrows at him, "What?"

he falls backward on your bed, facing the ceiling. "How is it possible to look that beautiful. I'll never know."

your heart jumps like it always does when he compliments you, though you giggle as you wave him off, "C'mon, Youngie, we’ll be late."

the two of you arrive at the club less than thirty minutes later, and Wooyoung laces his fingers with yours the moment you step in. you glance down, stomach swirling at the sight of the rings adorning his hands and prominent veins leading up his arms. you bite your lip and look up; you could not get distracted by his arms so early into the night.

"Wooyoung! Y/n! It's so good to see you." the tall bartender greets.

you smile up at him, "It's good to see you too, Mingi. I hope you're doing well,"

Mingi nods, "I am, and I'm doing even better after seeing you two. It's nice to see some familiar faces in this place."

"When you finish your shift you should come with us! We miss you, Mangi, it's been too long." Wooyoung whines from his place beside you. you roll your eyes at his antics, but you would be lying if you said you didn't miss Mingi too.

Mingi laughs, smiling at the two of you. "So, the usual?"

"Yup! Please and thank you." You grin cheekily. Mingi winks before leaving to get your drinks.

Wooyoung turns to you, "The others should be here any second now, I'm honestly shocked we got here first." You lean your head on Wooyoung's shoulder, unable to hear his breath hitch due to the loud music, "I'm not really surprised, we've always been punctual people."

you lift your head and smile at him, faces close as you wink, "That's why we get along so well."

Wooyoung gulps at your closeness as he smiles nervously, "Yeah, I really hate people who are late." You giggle and nod, understanding him completely.

a large figure runs into Wooyoung from behind as their arms wrap around him, and you laugh as you watch San smile at you from his place on Wooyoung's shoulder, "Hi, Y/nie! Youngie! I've missed you guys so much, it's been like, forever!"

"It's actually been three days, but I gather that's too long for you two." you tease, and Wooyoung pouts at you as he turns around to hug San properly.

San moves to hug you next, "Yeosang and Hongjoong are using the bathroom, those two losers drank too much water or something." San looks disgusted as Wooyoung giggles.

"TMI Sannie, TMI," you say stifling a laugh. San was very close to Wooyoung, and very similar to Wooyoung. those two were the cutest platonic soulmates you've seen, and it has always been fun when they were together.

"What did you tell them, San-ah?" a deep voice deadpans from behind you. you turn to see Yeosang and Hongjoong, squinting at San as he hides behind Wooyoung.

you jump out of your seat, "Sangie!" you run into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "I missed you so much, you barely come to these events anymore." You pout up at him as he smiles, "Sorry, Y/n, I've been a little busy, but I promise I'll try to come as often as I can."

Hongjoong stands to the side, "The fuck am I? Chopped liver?"

you break away from Yeosang and giggle as you move to hug Hongjoong as well, "Hi, Joongie. I missed you as well, even if I saw you two days ago."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Hongjoong says dismissively, though the smile on his face tells a different story.

the four of you move to a booth, ordering another round of drinks along with some food. the night is fun, filled with laughter and jokes as you watch Wooyoung and Hongjoong bicker like children. you are almost finished your meal when you spot a familiar head through the crowd.

"I'll be right back, I want to go say hi to someone," you tell them, taking a sip of your drink before sliding out of the booth as you stare at your target.

Wooyoung eyes you from his seat, ignoring the looks of mirth he gets from his friends. you look amazing tonight, just as you do every night, and it's been hard for him to not want to keep his arms wrapped around you the whole time. not because of others staring, but because of how irresistible you look. he wonders who you have left to speak to, but once he gets a glimpse of their face, he scowls.

Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun! Hi!" you greet, smiling toothily at the tall man.

he looks shocked for a moment before his face relaxes at the sight of you, "Hey, Y/n, how's it going?" he moves to hug you, arms covering your torso as you stretch to hug his neck. you feel as though someone is staring at you from behind, but shrug it off as you look back to Yeonjun.

"It's good! Hongjoong, Yeosang, and Wooyoung are over there." You point back to them, and Yeonjun glances at the table, coughing when he sees Wooyoung glaring at him.

"Oh, that's cool. I came with Beomgyu, and HueningKai. They're over there getting shitfaced as we speak."

you look behind him and find the two of them dancing sloppy and chuckle at the sight. "And let me guess, you are the responsible parent for the night?"

Yeonjun sighs, "Unfortunately. Without me, these idiots wouldn't end up home most nights."

you nod at him, amused.

"So, how's everything with Mr. Loverboy?" Yeonjun asks, tilting his head toward Wooyoung. you glance back and catch Wooyoung's eye; he smiles charmingly, and you grin back before facing Yeonjun, and your face drops. "I actually have no idea. Sometimes it feels like we're having a moment, but then he treats me like normal, so I'm not really sure."

you exhale, "If there's one thing I know, though, it's that he isn't interested in any girl right now. He told me he has more important things and people to focus on or something like that."

you smile sadly, "I wonder if it's too naive to think it's me."

Yeonjun scoffs loudly, and you look up to him startled. "Listen, if I wasn't sure before, I am sure now. Wooyoung most definitely feels the same way about you." he leans down to your ear, feeling only slightly scared as Wooyoung glowers at him from across the room. "Not only was he incredibly jealous the first time I met him, but he has been shooting daggers at me since you approached me."

Yeonjun lifts his head and smiles encouragingly, "I'm sure all he needs is a little push, and he'll confess. Don't give up yet, Y/n. He's almost there, I can tell."

you look at Yeonjun, not very convinced though not as dejected as before. "Okay, yeah. I should get back."

You glance at his friends, "Good luck with those two, let me know if I can help." You smile, giggling when Yeonjun sighs dramatically at the sight of them.

"Don't worry, I can handle them. You should focus on the jealous boy who's waiting for you across the room." Yeonjun waves before giving you a little push towards Wooyoung, "Please, go before he rips my head off."

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, smiling as you wave and make your way back to your friends and Wooyoung. you attempt to swiftly pass the people dancing, but you get caught up in the crowd, losing sight of the table and struggling to get out.

when a hand grabs at your wrist, you flinch, moving back as you cradle your arm against you protectively. "Hey, sweetness," a gruff voice comes and you glance up to see an older man with missing teeth.

Just what you needed.

your hands shake as you attempt to move past him, "Sorry, not interested." but he grabs your arm again and you rip it out of his grasp for the second time.

"I said I'm not interested."

he laughs, and you can smell his rancid breath from where you stand. "You don't mean that, c'mon, why else would you be wearing that?" Your face drops at his comment, and your mind races as you wonder if you'll be able to run fast enough to lose him. you glance at the dancing bodies surrounding you, realizing that was highly unlikely.

but before you can panic any longer, a familiar scent fills your senses as you are pulled into someone's chest. you flinch again, still jittery, but when you see Wooyoung you relax immediately.

Wooyoung curls an arm around your waist and you sink into his embrace, "She said she’s not interested, you fucking loser." he glowers, face devoid of the usual joy it contains, as his eyes are hardened with protectiveness.

“Well, maybe she shouldn't be wearing that outfit if she didn't want the attention!" the man yells, causing people to look your way as a circle forms surrounding the three of you. you tug at Wooyoungs arm when you see his nose flare in anger not wanting things to get physical, "Wooyoung, fuck this idiot, don't bother with him," you glance up at the man before you,

"He has enough problems, like the fact that he wakes up every day looking like that." You sneer.

Wooyoung grins, "Good point."

the man opens his mouth in fury, but he gets interrupted, "Is there a problem here?" Two security guards approach and the man pales. you interject before he can speak, "Yes, actually. This guy grabbed me twice when I said I wasn't interested."

the man flails uselessly as the two men escort him out, cursing at them in rage. a rather anticlimactic ending to such a panic-inducing situation, but you gratefully accept it. you exhale once they are out of sight, relaxing onto Wooyoung as he wraps both of his arms around your waist. you feel exhausted, though Wooyoung feels comforting around you, and you do not wish to move.

"Y/nie, let's go home?" he whispers in your ear, and you nod slowly before turning around and burying your face in his neck. Wooyoung, your Wooyoungie. you feel tears spring to your eyes, because the truth is he wasn't yours.

perfect, protective, kind, thoughtful, and sweet Wooyoung was not yours, and you find that thought a little harder to digest right now. Wooyoung feels something wet on his neck as he looks down at you worriedly, "Y/n? Are you okay?"

you don't respond, clutching him harder as he curses before maneuvering you outside.

the cooler night air feels refreshing as it greets you, and you sniffle once the door closes and you are alone with Wooyoung. "What's wrong, Y/nie? Talk to me, pretty."

another tear streams down your face at the term of endearment as you push him away frustrated. "Don't call me that!"

Wooyoung's face drops, "Don't call you pretty?" he looks at you helplessly, "I-I'm sorry, but I don't- Are you upset about what just happened? Because why does it seem like you're upset with me?"

you wipe your tears, annoyed with your shaky hands and legs that felt much too like jello. "I am upset! I'm scared because that was a really scary situation to be in, but more importantly, I'm upset with you!"

Wooyoung looks heartbroken, his hand reaching out to you before falling to his side.

"It's not fucking fair, okay? You don't get to buy me sweet drinks and get possessive when I flirt with someone, and then glare daggers into guys I'm just friends with and protect me from creepy ugly men without me catching feelings for you!" you cry out, breathing heavily as you continue.

"I'm so tired of the shitty butterflies I get when I see you, or the sadness I feel when you look at every girl but me, and most of all I'm sick of your stupid pretty lips that look way too pretty to be real and- now I'm rambling about your lips being pretty-"

he grabs your cheeks gently, pushing his lips onto yours and your brain short circuits. your hands lift unsure, before finding purchase on Wooyoung's broad shoulders as you part your mouth, a small noise leaving your throat when he bites your bottom lip gently.

he pulls back first, and you swallow the whine you want to let out. "I have feelings for you too, Y/n. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure that out, but I'm here now." he smiles unsure, "And uh, if it's okay with you, I'd like to take you out on a date sometime. Or something like that." he says shyly.

you smile at his red cheeks before cupping his face and pulling him down into another kiss, this time taking your time as you slip your tongue in and tug gently on his bottom lip back with your teeth, before parting and giggling at his furious blush.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." You kiss his nose and smile before grabbing his hand and leading him back to the car. "And you're coming home with me tonight! I deserve cuddles," you demand as Wooyoung stares at you dopily from behind.

you would get all the cuddles you wanted, and more. Wooyoung would give the world to you if you asked, because that was exactly what you deserved.

Extra:

“C’mon, Junnie. Don’t be scared. I just want to introduce you two since you both mean so much to me,” you whine at Yeonjun, pulling his arm as he shakes his head back and forth.

he whines back at you, “Why would you subject me to this knowing how Wooyoung feels about me? You are cruel, Y/n. Very cruel."

you roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior, “This is exactly what I mean when I say your extra ass will get along with Wooyoung. You two act so similar it’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Yeah, except I don’t glare at people when I feel jealous.” he crosses his arms, staring at the ‘Welcome’ sign in front of the cafe Wooyoung was waiting for you two at.

you push him closer to the door, “Please, Junnie? It would really mean a lot to me,” you beg softly, knowing Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to handle your sad eyes.

he sighs, head falling down before he looks back up, “Fine, fine. Just stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

you cheer with your arms up, smiling happily as you drag him inside.

“Wooyo!” you call, watching Wooyoung look up with a cute smile. you let go of Yeonjun's arm as you take quick steps toward your boyfriend, “I know you two know each other already, but this is time for re-introductions.” you state seriously, grabbing Wooyoung's hand softly.

he stares at you sulking, but listens obediently. “Wooyoung, this is Yeonjun, one of my close friends. Yeonjun, this is Wooyoung, my boyfriend! I hope you guys can get along well.”

the two of them wave half-heartedly, mumbling ‘hellos’ but you figure that’s good enough for now. “Okay, I’ll go grab the food then,”

you ignore the way both of them turn to you with wide eyes, smirking as you approach the front and leave them alone with one another.

Wooyoung glares at Yeonjun as he avoids eye contact, finding the stain on the table much more interesting. “So. Yeonjun, I’ll be frank, do you like Y/n?”

Yeonjun's eyes snap to Wooyoung's serious ones as he sighs, “No, I only like her as a friend, I promise.” Wooyoung sits back unconvinced as he crosses his arms. Yeonjun figures he should come clean and explain himself properly, for your sake at the very least.

“I understand why you would be skeptical, especially since we did flirt before, but neither of us actually felt anything for each other from the start. We may have tried, but Y/n was way too in love with you to even bother looking at me, and I was still getting over a breakup so I never really looked at her like that.” he bites his lip, glancing at Wooyoungs face for a reaction and is in shock when he sees Wooyoung... blushing.

“She’s… in love with me?” he smiles elated, and Yeonjun wonders if he spoke too much. “Well, yeah? I thought… oh fuck.” he rubs his hands on his face; he was just fucking up one thing after the other.

he places his hands on the table as he watches you pick up the food making your way back to the table, “Okay, please keep this conversation to yourself otherwise I will never see the light of day again.”

Wooyoung giggles, “Mmhm, no worries!” he looks the happiest Yeonjun has ever seen him, and he sighs as he figures Wooyoung wouldn’t out him immediately at least.

you place the tray of food on the table, “What’s got you so happy, Woo?” you ask, smiling at his very obvious joy.

“Nothing, nothing,” he winks at Yeonjun, and he has to stop himself from face palming.

you glance at Yeonjun amused, “Okay, you guys can keep your secrets, don’t mind me.”

the rest of the lunch goes by shockingly pleasant, as Wooyoung and Yeonjun get along just like you knew they would. by the time the three of you are leaving the cafe, Yeonjun and Wooyoung have their arms intertwined as Wooyoung tells Yeonjun about the time he free styled for his dance exam after someone stole his choreography, Yeonjun listening intently as his mouth parts in awe.

you giggle as you watch them from behind. sure, Yeonjun might be your new rival for Wooyoung’s attention, but so long as Wooyoung was happy, you didn’t mind. the grin on your face only grows when you watch them hug goodbye.

this was your true happy ending.

unofficial tags: @scuzmunkie

[espinosaurusrexex]

Refuge - a small town crime/love story

BuckyBarnes/WinterSoldier x Detective!Female!Reader

summary: You had a track record of cracking tough cases, but this one proved to be your breaking point. The Winter Soldier was out there, thirsting for blood, operating in total anonymity, and leaving a trail of bodies in the cold Colorado snow. Then, just as a snowstorm was about to paralyse the town, Bucky Barnes appeared on your doorstep – lost, sweet, and in dire need of help. It all seems too good to be true, but what happens when his secrets come to haunt him and Bucky’s blurred past reveals a predicament neither of you saw coming?

a/n: yeah I've been a sad bitch these days...

word count: 7k

warnings: mentions of blood, violence, killing and dying (as well as vague descriptions), probable misuse of police ranks (I don’t know how it works), little use of “Y/N” (like two times), language, a lot of angst and fluff, soft!Bucky, a hint of touch starved!Bucky, no happy ending, smut (unprotected p in v, soft!smut) !MINORS DNI!

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

I recommend playing the songs linked in the text - I listened to them a lot while writing 🧡

Long streaks of crimson soaked the innocent snow beneath your feet.

Whatever happened, it had done so quick. The streaks turned into clumsy blotches and soon there would be evidence of a tired body dragging itself through the inches of snow in vain. 

It was too late. You were too late yet again. 

Sam threw his hat in the snow with a frustrated groan, his fist clenching so tight you actually heard it pop. 

“He’s doing it again,” the officer pressed past his stiff lip, “he’s messing with us.”

“Maybe this time he’s actually gotten sloppy.” Your eyes trained on the dark red contrasting the white.

Something was different about this one. But The Winter Soldier never left his victims capable of running away more than 10ft - it wasn’t his style. So why did this one make it past the tree line?

“Don’t try to sweet talk it, Y/L/N, he knows that we’re on his tracks. And he’s doing this to prevent us from finding him out once and for all.”

Sam’s pessimism could really annoy you sometimes, but it did help solve most of your cases in the past - it turned out that considering the worst-case scenario almost always brought you to the truth. Nevertheless, there was still something off. And you were determined to find out what it was this time. 

You turned around and made your way back to the car where blue and red lights silently snook through the woods before you finally turned them off. 

“I’m tired of this shit. What are we going to tell Sheriff Rogers? I’m pretty sure he’s about to kick us off the case anyway.” Sam gruffly entered the passenger seat with a frown. He was pissed, and you couldn’t blame him. 

“We’re not telling him anything.”

“And how would that work?”

“Just let me talk.” The tires screeched on the tar before you sped out of the woods. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Cold. So, so fucking cold.

Bucky’s teeth were cluttering. He didn't know where he was. Nor did he know how he had gotten there. There was barely anything he remembered, really. The past two hours were how far his memory reached and after that? Everything blank. Not blank entirely though. There was fear and darkness but no images, no faces, just unease. 

He stumbled past the trees and over roots hiding beneath the thick layer of snow that had accumulated even in the forest. His surroundings looked familiar, but he didn’t know why. His feet, however, seemed to guide him exactly where he needed to be. He didn’t think, just let them be. His hands were aching from the cold, he couldn’t feel them anymore, and his lungs hurt with every icy cold breath. Dusk was already breaking past the horizon, and when the darkness would take over completely, Bucky would be done for.

After another ten or twenty minutes - he really couldn’t tell - Bucky could make out a house sitting at the edge of the woods. There was smoke coming out of the chimney and rising past the threes. The sight alone warmed him a little bit, but his legs were quick to remind him how frozen he really was. He stumbled the distance until he landed on the doorstep.

This was a really bad idea. But then again: he was going to die out here. 

His knuckles jammed against the wooden door, and it made pain shoot up his entire arm. But his left one was hurting even more. His whole body was - well... the parts he could still feel.

❁ ❁ ❁

You opened the door, but nothing could have prepared you for what you found. There was a man kneeling on your doorstep. His fingertips peeking out of cut cloves trembling from the cold, his lips broken with blood by the harsh winter wind now nipping on your bare toes as well. The warm light from inside your house illuminated his face and what you saw could have only been described as distress. Eyes laced with fear and helplessness, the man looked up at you. There were snowflakes clinging to his lashes, face pale and lifeless. 

“Please,” was the only thing he whispered, but his voice was weak and it made your heart plummet. 

“What... what happened?” You stood frozen at the door, bewilderment seeping through your body. 

“I-“ But his teeth were cluttering so much you could barely make out his words. You looked past him into the woods and then down the lonely street leading to your house. Nobody there. Another look to the little table by the door, where your gun was hidden. He seemed to be unarmed, too weak to fight, anyways. 

God, you hated how your instincts made you check through the whole situation, making the poor man die in the cold outside. But when you were done, and your eyes swayed back to his frame, you exhaled slowly and opened the door a little wider. 

“Come in.”

“Th- Thank you- u.” He dragged his tired body over the threshold and crawled to the fireplace crackling in the living room. 

You just stood still, closing the door after swiping the woods and the road one more time, and watched him tremble by the fire. After a while - he had stopped shaking - you approached him and he looked at you like a deer in headlights. When he noticed you weren’t doing anything but standing there, he faced the fire again and - that’s when you saw it: dark red staining the back of his head and sticking to his shoulder-long hair. It was hard to make out in the dim light, but he had definitely gotten a good hit.

“Sir, you need a doctor.” Your hand reached for the phone but he was quick to stop it. His ice-cold touch made you shiver.

“No, no doctor.” His eyes looked at you intently, switching left and right. “Please... I just need to warm up. And then I’ll be out of your hair. I’ll leave and you never have to see me again.”

You were staring again. Shocked, confused? Something like that. This man wouldn’t be leaving soon, there was a blizzard already hitting the state lines, and it would be here by midnight.

“Please... no doctor.” His voice was only a whisper now but it pushed through to you more than before.

“...no doctor.” He nodded slowly, relaxing a bit. “But... you are bleeding.”

“I’m okay.” He wasn’t. This man was anything but. Though, somehow, he had this weird aura about him that made you want to stay close to him. You weren’t scared or creeped out - you were... intrigued.

Your head dipped to the side. “Who are you?”

He hesitated. “Bucky.”

“What’s your last name?”

“I... I don’t know.” He looked defeated - stressed - but you deserved answers.

“What happened?”

“I-” he looked up again, pain evident in his stare before he closed his eyes. “…don’t know.”

A nod of your head in understanding. He must be tired, exhausted. You’d leave it for now.

“Would you at least let me clean your wounds?” If they were really as bad as they looked you wanted to get him to a hospital before the blizzard hit. Bucky nodded hesitantly but he didn’t move when you inched closer to take a look at his head. 

The wounds weren’t that bad. All the blood in his hair made it look a lot worse, but he still needed stitches. He sat quietly as you carefully threaded the needle through his scalp. It wasn’t perfect but it would do. 

Bucky didn’t make a sound, not even when you accidentally slipped and poked him, he was quiet. 

“You can take a shower if you like - get all that blood off and warm up completely,” you finally whispered when you cut the last thread. All the other cuts on his face merely needed cleaning and the bruises were already forming, so there was really nothing you could do. 

“It’s okay. I won’t be staying any longer.”

But when he moved to get up, it was your turn to stop him. “Do you have somewhere else to go?”

“I’ll manage.”

“You’ll die. Blizzard’s already hit north.”

“I couldn’t stay.”

“You can.” Your hand sank when you noticed he wasn’t making a run for it. “At least until the storm passes.” He just nodded again but a hint of relief flushed through his orbs.

“Clean up, change. I have some clothes that will fit you. The bathroom is the first door on the left.”

Bucky followed your orders and disappeared into the bathroom without another word. You headed to your dresser to get the sweatpants and Hoodie Steve had always stored in there. He wouldn’t miss them, he didn’t stay the night anymore. But now it would serve another purpose.

You made your way back to the bathroom and gave Bucky the clothes, though the door wasn’t closed all the way and you could see the sliver of skin peeking through the crack. His back was littered with red streaks, most likely whip marks, and his left shoulder was scattered in bumpy scarring. He had a metal arm and that was about all you could see before willing your eyes away.  

Your gaze wandered to his jacket hanging over the chair and your fingers itched to know more. He was a stranger in your house, after all. A stranger you had chosen to trust, though. But your hands were searching through the pockets before that thought was finished. They were all empty. No wallet, nothing. All you found was a black mask and several compartments for weapons - all empty as well, though.

You exhaled. Who are you, Bucky?

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky let the hot water run down his body. He looked at his left arm, the water hitting with drumming sounds and then repelling from its surface. Despite his lack of memory, he didn’t think it strange that an entire limb of his was missing, well kind of. It was okay - as if he had already coped with it somewhere in the past. The scars didn’t scare him either, or the red lines on his back. They were just there - accepted or not - unbothered. 

He closed his eyes and let the water fall on his face. Flashes of a fight lighting before his eyes. Torn between intrigue and horror, it was as if he had opened them.

Please! I’m begging you, please! God, please!

He was back. And the shampoo washed from his face in white bubbles. It smelled good. Like you.  

Bucky spent another minute under the water before stepping out and looking into the mirror again. What was he even doing? Dragging an innocent woman into this mess - whatever it was. 

His hand ran down his face and the towel hung low on his hips when he reached for the clothes you gave him. They were soft and fit him perfectly. 

It wasn’t long until he stepped out into your warm living room again. There was a pillow and blanket on the sofa now, and it looked more inviting than Bucky had seen in a while - at least it felt that way. He didn’t say much when he sat down carefully, feeling the soft comforter under his skin, and watched as you handed him a glass of water. 

“I’m right down the hall if you need anything.”

He just nodded.

“Will you be okay?”

He nodded again. But Bucky didn’t know if he was going to be okay. He was confused and scared and surprised you offered him shelter even though you knew nothing but his name. What a kind woman you were. 

You smiled sadly as you shut off the light, leaving Bucky to sink his head into the fluffy pillow. The flickers of flames in the fireplace danced on his skin when he closed his eyes, falling into a well-needed and dreamless slumber.

❁ ❁ ❁

He woke to the sound of dishes clinking the next morning, stretching and catching a new fire with his eyes before he peeked over the backrest of your sofa to your kitchen. He was more rested than he’d felt in a long time. And he didn’t know if it was the sheer exhaustion that had him fall asleep so quickly yesterday, or if, maybe, it had been the faint smell of lavender your sheets hosted. Either way, he smiled when he got up, and it felt a little strange to do so. 

“Good morning, Bucky.” You beamed over the stove where some eggs were sizzling, making his stomach grumble. 

“Good morning,...” He still didn’t know your name. But it was strange to ask now that he had already slept in your home. 

You chuckled as your name passed your lips and Bucky’s lips lifted into another small smile. 

You ate in silence then. There wasn’t much Bucky had to say and you didn’t seem to be chatty. Bucky didn’t mind. This, your house, had a certain serenity to it. The faint crackling of the fireplace, the homey smell of breakfast in the air, and the rioting storm pouring in soft flakes around it. It felt peaceful and calm and safe - even if he didn’t know who you were... even if he didn’t know who he was.

The day went by peacefully. At one point, Bucky explored your house. It wasn’t big, but full of memories, he could tell. There were pictures everywhere - some of people, some of places. Souvenirs, crafted things. Smiling faces stared at him as he carefully inspected the mantel pieces and something akin to sadness pulled on his heart. Bucky wished he had memories - ones like you did. Ones with happy people and gifted bookmarks. He was sure he did... somewhere. He was someone, right? He just didn't know how to pull that someone back. 

It was strange because he had memories. Faint ones. Some that didn’t feel right. His childhood was completely blocked out. He had tried to remember, and things came back to him in tiny pieces. This night he remembered his last name. Barnes. But then his mind associated it with strange callings of his name - urgent, demanding, unfriendly. It didn’t feel nice - none of his memories did. 

His finger drove over the small picture of a dog and then he smiled. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You sensed Bucky standing at the door as your head hung low above the desk scattered with pictures and leads. You didn’t bother hiding it from him though. Your house was small - it was almost impossible to hide things properly, especially if the days you spent snowed in kept being as quiet and boring as this one. Bucky was curious. He didn’t show it much but you notice the way his eyes scanned the room, how his brows twitched upon your frame above the files. He would catch a glimpse sooner or later. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Bucky wrung his hands. “Am I interrupting?” 

He watched as you shook your head, tracing the rim of your empty beer bottle. Careful steps approached you and then he stood behind you, a tense breath resealing when he most certainly took read through the reports. Except, he didn’t. When you turned, you watched him scan the decor on the walls. 

And he didn’t stop until you called his name.

“Yes?” His eyes were piercing even in the dim lamplight - they were pretty. 

“Is there something you need?”

He looked a little started at your question, his hands still kneading beneath him. It was hard to believe someone as tall and built as him could be shy - but here he was.

“I just wanted to... uh...” He avoided your eyes. “I remembered my last name.”

You smiled, a small jump in your heartbeat sneaking past you. “Oh, that’s great.”

“Yeah.”

“So what is it?”

“What?”

“Your name.”

“Oh, Barnes, Bucky Barnes.” He smiled. “And I also wanted to thank you... for being so kind.” He got shy again. 

But you stood and smoothed your hands over his shoulder, feeling him relax a little. “I’m just glad you are okay.” 

“Still, it’s not a given and I won’t take it for granted. So, thank you.”

There was a short silence in which he just looked at you and you wondered what else there was to discover about this extraordinary man before you. You could tell there was so much history and depth behind the ocean blue orbs focusing on you, so much more not even Bucky Barnes could access yet, and that made it all the more intriguing. 

Bucky shifted again, and then suddenly yet carefully, leaned in to encase you in an awkward hug. It warmed your heart from the inside out, but It didn’t last long before you could feel the tension return to his back. 

He pulled back, disturbed. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.” His eyes were everywhere but on you. “I’ll let you work.” And then he stumbled past you and out the door as you stood and watched him leave, turning back to your desk to see the array of crime-scene photographs littered on its surface. 

❁ ❁ ❁

The hallway was spinning when Bucky made his way back to the living room. 

A heavy body fell to the snow, hands shielding features, scrambling backward on the harsh white ground.

“Please! I’m begging you, please! God, please!”

Bucky’s metal hand collided with a face, releasing a loud cracking sound. There was so much blood. So much fucking blood. 

The room seemed to cave in. His chest rapidly rising and falling, Bucky made his way to the kitchen where he fell through the backdoor into feet of snow. The cool on his face calmed him down immediately, hitting him like the memory of it had done. He stayed there for a while, just enjoying the silence of the storm and letting the weather tie him to the ground.

That’s what he needed. A reminder, something to ground him, tell him how vulnerable he was, that there was still something human left in him.

His jaw clenched when he scrambled up again, skin burning from the ice piercing through the air. He was okay, he told himself, he was fine.

He shook his head and made his way to the little hut in the backyard, where he took your axe and began chopping firewood. A little distraction would do him good.

❁ ❁ ❁

After a simple dinner, you retreated to the sofa. Bucky hadn’t talked to you a lot and he felt a little bad you were stuck with him for another day due to the storm. But you never lost a word about it. In fact, you acted so naturally about it, as if he were a frequent visitor in your cozy retreat, one he had grown to associate with comfort and warmth in the short time being. 

“What’s your favorite movie?” You crossed your legs next to him. 

“I don’t know.” Bucky didn’t even remember watching movies ever. And it made him sad.

“Favorite genre?” You tried again. But Bucky just shrugged with a tight-lipped smile. 

“I like rom-coms.” You smiled and Bucky noticed yet again how easy it was to spend time with you. 

The TV began to play a generic song, but Bucky was too occupied looking at you. He couldn’t remember but he felt as though he had not experienced this sort of kindness in a long time, and it warmed his heart. But in the back of his mind, there was always that feeling of betrayal lurking in the dark. Because he began to remember things - things that lay not too far in the past and that were horrible, unspeakable really. 

He had not pieced them together just yet. Just snippets of memories, pieces of conversations rushing through his mind when he was triggered. And it scared him a little bit. But he didn’t want to lay his burden on you. 

“You’re not even paying attention.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you tired? We can stop the movie if you-“

Bucky shook his head. “No.” He smiled, not wanting you to leave yet.

“Okay.” You whispered before turning to the TV with a smile. As did Bucky. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky woke with an unusual amount of peace. He felt warm and comfortable - well-rested too. The fire was lazily puffing in the chimney and the TV was off. But there was something, or rather someone else he noticed. He looked down, his eyes landing on your frame, tightly tugged to his body. You weren’t cold, even though the room had cooled significantly since last night, and your face looked so peaceful - unbothered. The sight did weird things to his heart. But his response to it was to sling his arms around you tighter, and for the first time in a while, Bucky felt as though he was protecting something rather than threatening it. 

A smile snuck on his lips unawares. You stirred, but neither of you loosened their grip. 

“Good morning.” Your head disappeared into his chest again.

“Mornin’” he could feel your frown through his shirt.

For some reason, it just felt natural to stay like this. Neither Bucky nor you moved for a while. You just lay there - not talking, not sleeping - enjoying the calm morning, even though Bucky could see the snowflakes rioting outside the living room window. 

His hand dragged up and down your back and you sighed. 

“What are you doing today?”

You pulled back a little, watching him, contemplating something - he could see it. 

“I...” You trailed off, but Bucky stayed silent. 

“You know what?” His eyebrows raised as you scrambled off the sofa and extended your hand toward him. “Come with me.”

And he did. You lead him to your office and Bucky was reluctant at first. The last time he was here he had a panic attack. But your hand was still in his, and it calmed him. 

“I’ve been working on a case for some time now... but I’m stuck.” You moved to the desk and Bucky followed. “There’s been a murderer tormenting the town for weeks, driving the whole department crazy. I’ve been looking at these files for days. Maybe a fresh set of eyes can help.”

“You... you want me to help you?” This was new. 

“Bucky,” your hand landed on his arm and his eyes were glued to the interaction, “we’re stuck in here for at least another day. Why not be productive? And who knows? Maybe you’re able to help me solve this case.” You smiled.

But he was still hesitant.

“That guy killed my partner’s sister. Anyone that can help us even in the slightest is welcome”

He gulped. “Okay, alright...”

You sat down at the desk, spreading out pictures, handing him files, and explaining what you had gathered so far. Bucky listened attentively. And even though he was a little scared to look at the pictures again, he warmed up to the process you guided him through. Everything was labeled and put to memos. 

The process and the document brought him a weirdly familiar feeling but Bucky shoved it off to the side - after a while, even enjoying the puzzle you laid before him. 

“This one is unusual... why did this victim get so far?” He mumbled. 

“Maybe he’s messing with us...”

“Or he was interrupted,” he stated plainly as he grabbed another picture. 

You were silent then, and Bucky looked up at you to find you smiling across the files littered on the floor. “You must have some sort of experience, those are some good observations.”

Bucky shrugged. Whoever he had been in the past was yet to be revealed to him, but he did admit that tactical thinking came easy to him.

“Also this,” he pointed at the latest crime scene photo, “these tracks are inconsistent. Normally, he attacks from the left. But here it’s all over the place. Something must have happened to make him stop and change tactics.”

“Something like...?”

“Maybe he got a hit himself. You said the forensic scientist approximated quick deaths. The Winter soldier always kills precisely.”

You nodded. “One hit and they're done for.”

“That takes a high amount of skill. There are not a lot of things that can interrupt these tactics. Except, if he wasn’t capable anymore.”

“There were no indications of the victims defending themselves. They never had a chance.”

“Were there no indications or was it just not tested anymore?”

“The blood.” Bucky watched as you sprung up. “There was too much blood. Some of it must be his!”

Attagirl. Bucky couldn’t help it, a proud smile painted his features. He watched as you pressed the telephone to your ear, a faint beeping caught by his ears, and then you frowned. 

“The lines are dead,” you sighed. 

“What are we gonna do now?”

“We have to wait out the storm... There’s no way we’re getting anywhere out there.”

His eyes swayed to the window, where a wall of white soft snow fell unrelenting. He nodded. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You were on the sofa again, there was nothing to do. The fire was crackling, and you sat next to Bucky with a cup of tea in hand. 

The case didn’t stop swarming your mind though. You finally had a new lead, a small hint that could lead to a suspect and you had no way of contacting Sam or the Sheriff’s department. There was likely nobody working, anyway. Maybe Steve, he was crazy like that - he’d gone out in unholy weather when you had a fight once, just to give you space. 

Your eyes wandered around the room as your mind went through the case files again, and then, when they landed on Bucky again, a little shiver ran over your skin. 

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Have you... Do you think it’s possible you were the thing interrupting the Winter Soldier?”

He looked at you blankly. 

“You were pretty banged up when you found me.” You didn’t try to insinuate anything, you were just a little worried... and curious. 

“There were no other tracks in the snow, though.” His shoulders slumped. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I just want to-“

His hand found your knee. “I understand.”

And your eyes locked. “Do you not want to know what happened to you?”

“I’ll remember it eventually,” he smiled reluctantly, “right now, I’m actually glad not having to worry about it too much.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don't know... I just prefer your company instead.”

You nodded and bit your lip to stop your smile from spreading. “I’m glad I’m not alone here, too.”

Bucky looked down, hiding his smile in vain.

❁ ❁ ❁

Icy wind whipped around Bucky when he noticed the man lying in the snow in front of him. He was begging, crying, screaming words he couldn’t make out in the storming winds.

And that’s when Bucky realized he was bleeding. Not Bucky, no, the man. He was lying in a pool of his own blood, drawing a growing circle in the snow - growing darker with every drop seeping deeper into the thick white.

So much blood. 

Bucky was confused, and worried, and scared. He didn’t know how he had gotten here, and when he moved to help the man, he scrambled away towards the treeline.

Bucky didn’t follow him. The look of utter fear had shaken him to the bone. What had the man been so scared of? Bucky looked down his body, past the heavy vest to a sleek silver knife wedged between gloved fingers.

He stumbled backward. Almost losing his balance as he sped in the other direction. Away from the man, the blood, the sheer horror of the scene in front of him. What had he done? What was going on?

“You need to wake up!” Bucky’s shoulder shook with your touch. 

Suddenly he shot up, shrugging you off until you landed on your butt next to the sofa. 

He was sweating, heaving, eyes searching the room until he realized that there was no danger and gore around anymore. Just your cozy living room and you. You.

“You’re okay, Bucky. It was just a bad dream.” Your hands were on him again, his covering yours. 

“I’m okay,” he reiterated.

“We’re safe here.” You weren’t. Because Bucky was the Winter Soldier. 

The realization hit him like a truck, his hands immediately retracting from your skin. His heart began to pick up its pace again. The memories flooding his brain overwhelmed him to the point of dizziness. But he couldn’t be close to you. Not after he had done the unspeakable. Not after he had killed your partner’s sister. This had become too personal.

“I need to leave.” He stood up too quickly, swaying dangerously before scrambling past you. 

“You can’t leave yet. It’s horrible outside.” You reached out to him again.

But he shook you off again. “I can’t stay either.”

“Why? What’s the problem?” 

Bucky halted, his shoulders sagging. There was no point in keeping it from you. You would find out anyway. And he would leave either way. It was just fair, you deserved the truth, to know you had sheltered an assassin for days. 

He turned to you with afflicted eyes. “It’s me,” he whispered shamefully, feeling his eyes fill with tears. 

You didn’t ask - just looked at him and swallowed hard. It was crazy how well you had gotten to know each other in the three days you were snowed in. But what was even more unfathomable to Bucky was that you understood. That you knew and didn’t flinch, or scream, or threaten him. 

“I... the... my weapons, they’re buried in the woods. It was me, I did it. They made me do it. They–“ A sob broke through his speech. 

You stood up to touch him but Bucky stepped back with the shake of his head. 

“They can control me,” he uttered and the statement heard out loud made him shiver all over. 

You reached out a third time and this time, Bucky didn’t move. He let it happen when your hands encased his cheeks and your lips laid a soft kiss on his jaw. “It’s fine.” Another kiss. “You’re fine.”

“I’m a monster.”

You shook your head with a teary smile.

“They’ll kill me when they find out.” There was no panic in his tone, he had already accepted his fate. The hard part was saying goodbye to you. 

“I won't let that happen.” Your forehead pressed to his.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not him anymore. You’re Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s heart picked up its pace. Somehow, hearing his name from your lips meant so much more than anything else ever could. And with a taste of hope on his tongue, his hands grabbed your face and pressed your lips to his eagerly. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You stumbled back but Bucky held you firmly in his grasp. He sighed into the kiss when you began to move your lips in sync with his, a lonely tear rolling over his cheek and stopping at your thumb. 

He was warm and soft, rough around the edges but so sweet. His chapped lips left your mouth; his arms wandered around your body as he held you tightly, face disappearing in the crook of your neck. 

Bucky was so full of affection, and passion, you could feel it in every touch he gifted you. You didn’t know how long he had gone without a kind word, without a reassuring smile, but you knew that you would give it all to him in this moment. 

“Come here.” His puppy eyes squeezed between your hands, he let you guide his face back to yours where you stole another deep kiss from him. 

But you wanted more. Needed to feel him all over - wanted to step into his skin if you could, just to be closer to him. 

You guided him back to the sofa until he fell backward with you pressed against his chest. There was not an inch of space between your bodies as your legs tangled slowly. Bucky groaned when his hand tangled in your hair, a soft nudge pushing you to the side until he was almost hovering over you. 

“You’re cold,” he stated upon feeling over your goosebumps. And then he, somehow elegantly, rolled the both of you off the sofa and to the carpet in front of the fire. 

Your skin was burning deliciously when he removed your shirt carefully, a cool metal hand soothing over the side facing the fire. His hard bulge nudged against your core when his mouth placed soft kisses over your clavicle. Little did he know you weren’t shivering from the temperature in the room, but you wouldn’t protest. 

Your heartbeat quickened with every piece of clothing left discarded around you. Bucky was all over you. Lips, hands, legs - a wild entanglement of limbs surrounded every content moan he gifted you and you loved it. 

Soft warm kisses placed a firm trail down his body as you worked your way to the hemline of his boxers. You removed them with ease, his hands not once leaving your body no matter how grand your movements. He seemed assured when he could feel you beneath his fingertips. 

“Will you stay?” You kissed his hip, hooded eyes looking at him through lashes. 

“Anything for you.” His breath was shaky. You moved to kiss his tip, but as soon as your lips touched his red flesh, “But-“ he pulled you up again. “I need you closer.” He smiled. 

“Okay.” And then your lips were back on his. His fingers danced around your body until they pulled your underwear off as well. 

You parted just to watch as your warm hands guided his tip along your slick folds, his cock witching when he touched your wetness, another shaky exhale escaping his chest. 

His eyes held yours when you lowered yourself until he was fully sheathed by you, a heavenly feeling consuming you with the delicious stretch he gave you.

You moaned in unison when you rolled your hips for the first time. Then another, and another. Until you found a comfortable rhythm that had Bucky bury his strong fingers in your hips, guiding you to meet every thrust of his own. 

Your name rolled over his tongue as his eyes closed and it never sounded as good as this. He stuttered when you squeezed his cock with your walls, chasing your own high as Bucky fought to hold on. 

There was so little talking in this passionate moment but so much felt said at the same time. Every touch of Bucky’s held stories in its wake, every kiss of his lips whispered soft promises to your body. You never wanted to let go again. 

Your hand guided his eyes to yours when you felt your insides squeeze unrelenting. Moans being swallowed by another heated kiss, you rode each other through ecstasy. The overwhelming heat of his body and the fire seemed to swallow you whole when your sticky body collided with his only to have Bucky sling his arms around you again. 

He kissed your head, whispering sweet nothing to your ear before the aftershocks of pleasure fully subsided. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Harsh knocks on the front door ripped you from your desk. You stumbled down the hallway as you tried to get to the intruder faster. 

“Y/L/N open the damn door!” You stopped. It was Sam. What was Sam doing here? The storm had begun to soften, but it was still not totally safe out.

A look to your left showed Bucky standing in the living room looking at you with unease written all over him. He scrambled to the wall on the floor when your hand moved to the doorknob. Sam didn’t know. Nobody knew that there had been a man hiding in your house for three days and it would stay that way... for now. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you, too.” Sam tried to step forward but you blocked his way. He frowned. “The lines went dead and I needed to show you this.”

Sam pulled a crumbled piece of paper from his jacket pocket, the silver star shining in the white landscape around him. It had stopped snowing this morning, and his truck was probably the only one making it through the streets.

Suddenly, Bucky’s face stared back at you between creased paper. He was wearing an army uniform, a proud smile decorating his features as he held his hat in his hands. “What’s that?” You swallowed hard.

“It’s him.” Sam showed the picture further. “His blood sample DNA is all over the victim.”

“The blood,” you whispered upon stealing a glance at your living room. “What... what are you gonna do?”

“That motherfucker killed my sister. And I am not going to rest until I’ve ended his life just as he did Sarah’s.” Sam tried to hide the raspiness in his voice at his sister’s name, but he failed. 

You couldn’t blame him. Sarah had been a wonderful person. Her death had come unexpectedly for everyone. Nobody could fathom that anybody wished her harm. 

I have his last known location. So are you coming or not?”

“It’s dangerous. The roads are closed off.”

“I don’t care.” You snuck another look to Bucky who was just blankly staring ahead now. He looked tense - frightened. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Sam-”

“Don’t even try. This is ending, now.” He stepped back. “So are you coming?” His eyes were piercing. “...or not?”

You nodded with tight lips, gifting one last reassuring smile to Bucky as you reached around the door to grab your jacket and gun. Sam was already starting the car. 

“I’ll be back as soon as possible,” you whispered only to watch Bucky’s chest heave with panic. “I’m so sorry. I won’t let him hurt you.”

The car honked before you could hear Bucky’s answer, shoulders jerking as your head pulled from behind the door. 

“I’m coming!”

❁ ❁ ❁

“I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna kill him.” Sam was gripping the steering wheel so tight, you thought it would break. “I’m gonna shoot him in the head, and I’ll watch him die just like he did–“

“Wilson.”

His head snapped to you with fiery eyes. But you were just as upset. The thought of Bucky being killed made you want to throw up. You obviously wouldn’t let that happen. Killing Bucky would do nothing when the actual bad guys were still out there, possibly manipulating a dozen other people into doing their dirty work. Bucky had told you the details he remembered, and it was enough to know that none of it was his fault - and most importantly - that there was a much bigger fish to catch. 

Sam clenched his jaw before looking back to the road. The mist had cleared slightly now. 

“I don’t think killing the Winter Soldier will solve the problem.” You instantly regretted saying that, because Sam slammed the brakes, making the truck slide on the icy road until it came to a stop. He was looking at you again. 

“He killed Sarah. He’s a criminal. A ruthless, cold-hearted serial killer.” There was so much betrayal in his eyes but he averted them again. “Even if I did not have personal reasons... he belongs behind bars at least. But the world would be so much better off if he was just gone.”

“Stop.”

“What?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Oh, really? Then please enlighten me. Because I would really like to know what made you change your morals.”

“You know, you’re not the only one that found out some things while snowed in,” you snapped and watched your partner look down contritely.

“It’s not just him. And it’s not him we need to stop.” You were careful about your next words - you needed to say them but you had no idea how to explain them. “There’s a whole criminal organization behind- ...behind the Winter Soldier program.”

“How?” His teeth were grinding. “How do you know?”

“I can’t tell you that” yet, you added in thought. Though you weren’t sure Sam would ever understand why you sheltered his sister's murderer in your home.

The car fell silent for a moment. But you swore you could hear Sam’s mind working overtime to decide how he would go about this. And then, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he reached for the ignition. 

“You’re lucky I trust you,” He muttered before starting the car again, shoulders still tense, and an ever-growing frown on his face. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It had taken a good portion of your energy to explain the situation to Sam without revealing your secret. It was hard and tiring, but you had planned a new strategy to approach the case with your partner. And now, several coffees and hours later, when the sun had already set beyond the woods behind your house, you found yourself on your doorstep with a smile. Because you knew that all of it would be forgotten as soon as you had Bucky back in your arms.

“Bucky, I’m home!” You called out before the door fell shut behind you. But there was something different about the place. 

Your eyes scanned the living room - no fire, lights out, and Bucky’s makeshift Bed was neatly stacked by the end of the Sofa. 

You smiled, still, he had probably finally decided to accept your offer to sleep in your bed. 

“Bucky?” You pushed past the bedroom door just to find the room empty as well. 

You frowned. You could have sworn he’d be lying there, waiting for you. But the domestic haze your fantasy cooked up in the few days of isolation the storm had brought you seemed to have clouded your brain. 

You tried the hut in the yard last - without luck. But it wasn’t until you came back into your house, sitting on the neatly made sofa that hosted a journey of emotions through the past days that the revelation hit you like a truck. 

A tear rolled down your cheek as your hands folded in your lap.

Bucky had come into your life like tragedy - sudden and with the force of an avalanche. He had brought you joy, and confusion, and pleasure, and warmth. Bucky had packed a lifetime of experiences and emotions in the span of three days, and then - just like he had appeared - and much like your initial excitement about coming back to him, he had vanished without a trace.

wow... here we are. I've had this in the drafts for a long time and tinkered on it throughout until it turned out this way. I hope you liked it. Please consider showing this post some love (reblog or comment) if you did - it really helps creators on this plattform! Love ya loads ~ℳ❁

Wanna be added to the Taglist?

@circe143 @valkyrie418 @mirikusashes @noideawhyimdoingthislol @nikkitc0703 @lethallyprotected @erynnnn @misshale21 @wattpaduser200 @buckyseddie @adoreyouusugar @km-ffluv @almosttoopizza @sociallyimpairedme @royalwritersoftheuniverses @i-l-y-3000 @mrsgweasley @prettylittlepluviophile @dinwifey @stuckysgirl27 @wintermischief @supersecretblogformytreasures @broadwaybabe18 @fridayiaminlove @buckybarnessimpp @goodkittyspost @justafangir1 @simpxinnie @bisexual-buckyfan @blackhawkfanatic @augustbucky @kandis-mom @harleycao @ashhsage @hhiggs

[strawberryya]

rainy nights

pairing: seungkwan x reader

synopsis: Is your fiancé ready to weather the storm if your worst nightmares were to be revealed? Maybe it's just the frigid weather seeping inside, unfurling all the anxieties you've locked away, or perhaps there's more to it.

word count: 4.6k

genre/cw: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, fighting, cheating allegations, mentions of food and alcohol, a lot of insecurities in relationship

rating: sfw

a/n: autumn angst coming your way!! This is for the svthub fall-ing collab which u should check out for all the cozy fall vibes that are needed during these cold and dark months 🫶

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

You came home to find a sleepy Seungkwan, nodding off in front of a movie he seemed to have barely begun watching. Your fiance has been working hard these past few weeks. With his newest show airing and promoting things left and right every day, you knew how exhausted he must feel. He answered your greeting with a drowsy hello as you stepped into your shared flat. The living room looked so warm even without any sun shining through the windows, the darkness outside seemingly unable to get inside through the glass panes. Quickly shaking off your outerwear you immediately ran over to Seungkwan, and the warmth he and the blankets offered you. 

“Long day?” 

Seungkwan nodded in response, smiling a little as you buried yourself on the other end of the couch. It was chilly outside, and you were cold to the bone after walking home. Seungkwan jumped at your cold feet snuggling against him in search of warmth, “My god, how are you so cold?!” 

“I didn’t realize it would be that cold outside today, so I wore my cute shoes…” you cried out, earning a sympathetic, but chastising look from Seungkwan.

Shaking his head, he told you what you already knew. “It’s fall, how could you not think it would be cold outside? What if you catch a cold?” 

“I know, I’m the one freezing because of it…” You frowned and cuddled into the blankets even more. 

Your fiance only hummed in response, having accepted your cold limbs resting against him and slowly but surely warming up. He looked very pretty tonight, his dark hair messily falling over his forehead. He had showered and changed into comfy clothes right away after coming home. You had meant to do the same, but the sting of getting into a hot shower right away after being in the freezing cold did not feel like a good idea once you had gotten inside. Cuddling was definitely the better option. And spending some time like this with Seungkwan was honestly exactly what you needed right now. It had been a while since you had been able to talk or spend time together since the both of you were working until late way too often. Resulting in the both of you being too tired to do much other than cuddle a bit or simply fall asleep. 

“Did you have dinner?” you asked, patting his leg to get his attention. He was close to falling asleep again, the movie apparently not interesting enough to keep him awake for the hour that was left. “Mm, we had a team dinner,” Seungkwan mumbled. 

“Ah, the entire crew? Where did you go? Did you eat something tasty?” you asked excitedly. Usually, Seungkwan would bring you take-away of whatever food he had eaten when going out, and you would of course do the same if you found it tasty. It was a little tradition you had created over the years. Since you both had a hard time going out to restaurants for actual dates during your busy weeks, it was easier to bring it home and share the experience once you were both home. With Seungkwan, even doggy bags had become something romantic to you. 

“It was okay, the autumn-style stew they had was pretty good though, there's some in the fridge for you if you haven’t eaten yet,” he said and let the corners of his lips curl when he heard you exited shout, he loved making you happy through small things like these. “It was me, Eunji, and a few crew people since we were the only ones left when we stopped filming today. It was pretty fun, but I think I should’ve drank a bit less since I’m supposed to film tomorrow too…” he added, making your excitement dissolve as quickly as it had appeared. 

You would’ve reassured him that it would be fine, he would do his best as usual even if he was slightly hughover. But all you could hear was her name. Eunji… Seungkwans university girlfriend. The model-looking actress who was working on the same show as Seungkwan this time. She was his first true love. She is gorgeous, kind, and worst of all: you even find her likable. 

You aren’t a jealous person, you never have been. But when it came to her… you couldn’t help but feel inferior. It was hard to speak about that with Seungkwan, he wouldn’t see it how you do. 

With a forced smile, in case his drowsy eyelids weren’t covering his sight as much as you thought, you pretended to be okay with what he had told you. 

“Eunji… It’s been a while since you worked together.” 

With a slow hum, Seungkwan agreed. It wasn’t often the two got to work together on shows nowadays. It had been more frequent right after university, their past relationship hidden from the public as a close friendship, and both of their careers within the acting industry taking off. This was also around the same time he had first met you…

“She says hi, by the way.” 

“Oh, well, tell her I said hi back next time then…” 

Seungkwan had stopped resting his head on his hand, instead letting his head fall back on the pillows leaned against the armrest. Warm light from the kitchen was lighting up his soft features, making your heart flutter when you thought about how someone like him had fallen for you. And then you felt that familiar, sinking feeling that bubbled up from within and whispered in your ear: maybe your love for him isn’t enough to keep him. 

He held your heart in his hands, and you stood powerless beside him. Still waiting to see what he would do with it in the end. If he decided to win back Eunji’s heart, what would he need yours for? 

You bit the nail of your thumb, shoulders tensing up as you watched your fiance nodding off yet again. Knowing would be better than not knowing, right? It would be less painful if you could see it coming. You were engaged, but if you didn’t get married before he broke your heart it would be easier for the both of you, wouldn’t it? 

His lips sat in a perfect pout, pretty cheekbones making him a vision to look at, and still, you felt like he wasn’t truly yours to look at like this. Did he still think about what could’ve been with Eunji? 

You couldn’t help but recall an autumn night much like this one at the beginning of your relationship. Back then you had stayed up talking late into the night. Both of you were tired, but not ready to put the threads of your conversation to rest just yet. You had told him about thoughts you had never shared with a partner before, things only your best friends knew about, things that were so deep-rooted within your thoughts that they affected your entire person. Insecurities, convictions, and the silly plans you saw in your future. He had understood you, at least you were convinced he had. You wanted to think that he still did. 

Back then, when the leaves were turning copper, and golden sunshine tainted your relationship he had told you about Eunji. The girl he wasn’t sure he would ever fully get over – his first true love. 

You had listened and felt like you understood what he had meant back then. You had your past relationships as well, with your fair share of guys you thought you would never get over until you had. She was just like that, time erases all, you were so convinced of that back then. 

Now, you felt differently. During the years since that first autumn, you had fallen deeper in love with him than you had ever been with anyone before. You had realized that he was your first true love. And you weren’t his. 

He was fast asleep on the couch next to you. You should let it all go, cuddle up next to him, and deal with your emotions after some sleep. But should do and do are very different things. Instead, you buffed Seungkwan’s leg yet again, his eyelids sliding open to look at you. “Mh?” 

“Am I your rebound?” you asked softly, tears stuck in your throat.

Your question seemed to catch him off guard. It took a while for the words to register in his tired brain. “What do you mean by that? I don’t even know what the fuck you want me to answer to that.” He barked out as he squinted at you. 

His tone was snappier than you had expected. All of your worst fears about your relationship swarmed your thoughts, and his tone made you feel like he had something to defend. Like your words had rung true, that you were just a rebound, even though he hadn’t said it straight up. 

“I mean what I said, am I your rebound? Do you still think about her?”

“Have you lost it? I can’t mention Eunji to you without you getting jealous about it?” Seungkwan had stopped trying to adjust his tired eyes to watch your expression, too tired and tipsy to take your questions seriously. It wasn’t the first time you had become overly worried about the smallest thing. He didn’t pay it too much mind and usually made sure you got some peace of mind. But tonight he didn’t want to be the one to calm your mind – he wanted to sleep. 

“Can’t we do this tomorrow instead? My head hurts.”

The tears your body was too tired to hold back came welling out, staining your cheeks. You knew it was stupid, but it wasn’t too far-fetched. People went back to their exes all the time! What made someone as amazing as Seungkwan want to stay with you instead of be with someone who was both a whole lot prettier than you and also famous in the same industry as him? She probably understood him better than you, maybe he was her true love as well. You kept making yourself more and more riled up, the longer Seungkwan kept his eyes closed, his arm now covering his tired eyes. 

“Why can’t you just tell me that you miss her? I know you do.”

Seungkwan sighed, he was getting annoyed with you now, you felt it. “You don’t know what I'm feeling. Why are you trying to start a fight?”

“I’m not trying to start a fight! I just want you to be honest with me! We don’t talk anymore and I just want to spend some time with you, and I know I can’t blame you for that, but I just… You don’t even seem to notice how much more time you spend with your ex compared to me, your freaking fiancee! So I just want to know now, before it’s too late if you even want to be with me.”

You were sobbing, desperation, anxiety, and weeks of exhaustion all washing over you at once. It was all too much, and you just wanted him to comfort you. 

“Please, just stop overthinking, I really don’t know where you got all that from… let’s just go to bed and we can try and fix all that tomorrow. I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Deal?” You sobbed. “Am I something you have to deal with? Why are you being mean? I just want to know who you even love…” 

“My god, what the fuck are you talking about? I’m so tired, I really cannot do this right now.” Seungkwan groaned, throwing the blankets off his body and walking off towards the bedroom. You didn’t say anything when he slammed the bathroom door a bit too harshly, quiet rage simmering inside of you. He seemed like he would be okay even if you were to walk out right at that moment, he didn’t even seem to care about your tears or your feelings one bit. Would he have cared if you were Eunji? 

“Fine!” You yelled towards the closed doors separating you from your fiancé. “I won’t bother you then!” 

Quickly you shoved your feet back into your shoes, throwing your jacket on, and slamming the door behind you when you left. It was childish, you knew it was. You wiped at your tears, the wind helping you dry off a little, and the cold making you question if you shouldn’t go back instead. 

But going back wouldn’t solve anything. Staying away for now was best for everyone. You needed time to cool off, time to somehow talk yourself down, and reason with your anxieties enough to go back without crying and asking stupid questions again. 

You could call someone, sleep somewhere else, and try again tomorrow night after work. Before you could even finish making up a plan like that you realized that you had left your phone at home. You hadn’t brought anything but the few things already in your jacket pockets. Under a streetlamp you checked what you had: gum wrappers, a spare charger, and your wallet. At least that would be useful… 

You weren’t sure you wanted to talk about it yet anyhow, and it was too late to barge into someone’s place unannounced. Nevertheless, you would need to find someplace warm soon, the autumn wind blowing up golden leaves around you was already biting at your skin. You decided running to the bus stop and heading further into the city would be the best idea right now, hoping to find some restaurant that would stay open even this late on a weekday. The cold had almost made you forget about why you had even gone out, but the wound of his distant words was still fresh, and your heart ached even as you ran towards the bus. 

Seungkwan heard the door slamming shut behind you, it echoed through the house. 

“Where are they even going?” he grumbled to himself. 

He could’ve gone after you, but he wasn’t ready to face you yet, he couldn’t stop being mad about the whole conversation. He wanted to fall asleep. He wanted to forget that you had doubted him, that you had cried because of him. To Seungkwan it wasn’t even a possibility that he would ever get back together with Eunji, she was a part of his past, and now a colleague. Nothing more. He thought you knew that. 

It was impossible to stop thinking about the way you had sounded so hurt, so painfully weak while you asked who you were to him. The annoyance and anger over how you had started a fight over nothing was slowly but surely morphing into worry the longer he thought about it. 

His head throbbed as he tossed and turned in bed. He still hadn’t been able to fall asleep, his mind and body too busy trying to listen to the door opening, and the faint sound of your footsteps on the wooden floor. It was always easier to fall asleep when you were beside him. For hours he tried to get his mind to let go and give him some rest before you would come home and he would try and make things right. 

He wasn’t blameless, after all. If you thought he was able to do something like that he was partially responsible, he thought as he stared into the darkness surrounding him. Should he try calling you? If he knew where you were, even if you didn’t come back home tonight, maybe he could get some sleep and apologize for his response. He had been tired, but he knew he couldn’t blame that entirely. You were tired too. It had been a long week, and he didn’t even welcome you home like he wanted to. 

Picking up his phone he was started by the bright blue light that hit his sleepy eyes. He dialed your number, hoping that you would at least pick up. 

The beeps as he waited for you to pick up sounded throughout the empty bedroom, but a faint buzzing sound traveling from somewhere further away was distinguishable after a while. Were you still home? Had you never left? He ran up before he could think twice about what to say if you were sitting out there after all this time. 

You weren’t there though, your phone ringing alone on the counter where you had left it along with your house keys and bag. “Shit, she ran out without bringing anything?” 

Seungkwan’s hand brushed through his hair, head hurting as he felt the anxious thoughts about where you could have gone and if you were safe and warm arise in his mind. What if you were outside freezing in the cold, refusing to come home because of him and his mean response? He thought about running out to find you again. But it had been hours since you left. There was no way he would be able to find you wandering the streets at this hour. He pulled open the front door, the chilly autumn breeze giving him goosebumps. The leaves were wet and stuck to the shining asphalt outside. Rain drizzled and the wind forced the tiny drops inside. He quickly shut the door again, leaving it unlocked in case you came back without him noticing. You didn’t have your keys after all. 

Now he felt even worse. Had he done enough to reassure you that he was as madly in love with you as he felt he was? What had made you doubt him? When would you come back? It was overwhelming, his mind spun, and he had no control over himself anymore. 

Seungkwan decided that it was best to not spiral too far before he knew that you were safe. He called everyone he could think of. Your parents, your best friends, and even some acquaintances who lived close by. Only a few picked up, it was past midnight on a workweek after all. The few who did were more confused than anything. Nobody had seen or heard from you, and why was he calling this late at night looking for you? Had something happened? He didn’t know how to answer the questions they all asked. Once he knew that you weren’t there he simply hurried to apologize for disturbing you so late before hanging up and trying the next person. 

But you weren’t anywhere. Nobody had seen you. Nobody had heard from you. Which wasn’t strange, since you had left your phone behind. Seungkwan held his face in his palms, staring at his list of contacts, there was nowhere else you could’ve gone. He had called everyone he could think of. You might have been with one of the people who hadn’t picked up, of course. He tried to tell himself that you were safe and warm, asleep at a friend’s house. He imagined your tears dried, and your resting figure under a blanket. Safe from the storm that was continuing to pick up outside. 

“She’s ok, I know she is,” Seungkwan mumbled to himself, hands rubbing against his features, legs unable to stay still where he sat at the kitchen counter. Hoping that someone would call back and tell him that he could relax for even a couple of hours. 

He slanted over to the couch. Once again he tried sleeping but woke up every twenty minutes, the weakest sounds of wind outside waking him where he lay, your next to his on the coffee table. It had been left behind just like he had. You had just fucking left. And now you were somewhere out in the cold or at some friend’s house seething about what a dick he was. And he was. But couldn’t you have stayed at home and let him know how much of a dick he had been instead of leaving him all alone? 

As he dozed off he could hear your laughter, he remembered it so clearly he almost thought you had come home. It wasn’t real, he could recall the day when you had been laughing just like that. A couple of years ago, on an autumn day much like today, you had moved in together, into this house. You had been so excited, and he had never felt so fond of someone as he had that day. Seungkwan had always wondered what it would feel to fall in love with someone over and over again, but with you, he had found out. Every day he found a new thing about you that drove him mad. The way you pouted, when you sang in the shower, how you would kiss him goodbye even if he was sleepy and had morning breath. It all made his heart beat an extra beat, and always put a smile on his lips. You had rolled out the carpet beneath the couch he was on right now together. You had been adamant about making sure that he got two dozen kisses before you got up from the floor to continue unpacking, leaving him chuckling on the new carpet, looking up after you as you made the house into your home. 

He had been so happy back then, and you had a magic about you that could make him happy still. 

And somehow, he had made you doubt how much he loved you. He didn’t know how, but recalling your tears as he ignored your worries last night made his heartache. A silent tear fell from his eye, waking him from his sleepless dreams. 

That first night when you had begun living your lives together in this house you had baked an apple pie. You said that the house needed to be told that someone was being loved inside of it again. Apparently, a house found out that love was present through the scent of freshly baked pies. It had made him laugh back then, but he had loved that pie. The memory gave him an idea. 

Because, if he wasn’t going to get any sleep, he might as well do something other than sit around worrying all night. 

It took him a while to follow the recipe in your favorite cookbook, he wanted to get everything just right. Carefully peeled apples, sliced and covered in butter, sugar, some flour, and a lot of cinnamon were placed gently in a pan. He had some trouble getting teh dough perfect, but after a second try, he managed to cover the filling with a thin layer of what soon became a flaky crust, a heart visible from the tiny cuts on top decorating it. 

He stared at the pie from across the kitchen floor the entire time it baked. A hundred different ways to apologize, argue back, and confess his undying love swirling around in his mind until the buzzer went off. 

When the pie stood on the rack to cool off, and the oven was turned off, Seungkwan sank down on the floor yet again. His back was against the cupboards, and his eyelids were heavy with sleepiness. He let it wash over him this time, knocking him out swiftly, and leaving him sleeping sitting up where he was. 

The rain had soaked your hair on the short run from to and from the bus. The restaurant had closed, and one of the servers had gently woken you up from your agitated sleep. You had been a bit embarrassed about having fallen asleep and leaned against your table like that, apologizing for being a nuisance to the staff while quickly paying and running out into the rainy night. 

You wanted to go home and sleep in your bed, next to Seungkwan. There hadn’t been much of a choice at that point. It was in the early hours of the morning, and the last shop had closed for the night. Home was the only place for you right now. 

The door blew open faster than you had intended for it to, the wind grabbing ahold of it as you tried to escape the cold rain. Inside it was warm, and a sweet scent filled the space, confusing you more than anything had that night. You dropped your wet jacket on a chair, mind trying to tell you to go dry off your hair, but feet dragging you towards the kitchen, too curious about what could’ve created the delicious smell of apples, cinnamon, and buttery dough. 

In the dim light from the kitchen counter lights, you found Seungkwan. Asleep on the kitchen floor, with tear-stained cheeks, and flour on his clothes and in his hair. You didn’t know how he had been able to make such a mess. You had only been gone a couple of hours. 

He made you afraid of everything that could take him away from you, and yet you couldn’t help but love him. 

You looked at the picture-perfect pie on the counter and knew you would never be able to leave him. He was your person, he had been your person since the day you had first met during that rainy fall, and he would continue to be your person until the day you were no longer on this earth. 

You bent down to him, brushing away some flour from his soft cheek. Reddened eyes blinked back at you, seemingly not quite sure if they were awake or still off in dreamland. Seungkwan’s arms wrapped around you quickly once he knew with certainty that you had come back for real. You embraced him back, tears welling in the corners of your eyes. You pulled back from him, whispering “I’m sorry,” and getting an equally apologetic look back from your fiancé. 

”I have been yours for years, please believe me when I tell you that I can’t imagine a future where you are not the only person I love.” He whispered, wiping away a water drop from the side of your face gently. You nodded, you did believe him, most days. But you felt like you needed to explain yourself, explain why you couldn’t escape your doubts about how long you would get to keep him to yourself. 

”I wouldn’t be able to do the same.”

”What?” Seungkwan’s thumb stopped moving on your cheek, confusion visible on his face. 

You took a deep breath. ”I wouldn’t be able to move on with someone else if we broke up, because you’re my first true love… and she’s yours. So how can I believe you?”

He fell silent. He remembered the words he had used that first autumn with you. ”My first true love.” Had you been hung up on Eunji all these years simply because of those words? He had thought you were only jealous of her or didn’t trust him enough. But it was his fault, to begin with- 

He hadn’t reassured you enough, he saw that now. 

”Eunji was my first love, that’s true.” He nodded slowly. When his warm hands slid up to hold your cold cheeks you could smell cinnamon on his skin. ”But I want you to be my last true love.” 

Tears fell from your eyes, ”Couldn’t you have said that earlier?” You sobbed out, ”I drank way too much for a work night…”

This made Seungkwan chuckle. His forehead pressed against yours as you both cried silent tears on the kitchen floor. ”I thought you knew.” 

You hugged him tighter, folding yourself into his warmth and his overwhelming love. ”I’ll make sure to tell you every single day from now on,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

[icarusdescending7]

Aquamarine - Chapter 4

Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.

Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?

-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-

You woke up still tired in the transport, still leaning on Ghost. He hadn’t moved since you landed on him, what a sweetheart. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as your gut was telling you.

You sat up yawning, looking around and noting that the drivers had swapped sides and Soap was still dead asleep— now lying in your lap. You didn’t bother to shove him off like you normally would have, being too tired to care.

“Five hours.” Ghost mumbled next to you, opening his eyes as daylight shone into the window next to him. “You slept for five hours, on the worst roads we could be driving on, after eating both of our energy bars.”

You grumbled, leaning back against him scooting a bit closer to be more comfortable. “Aye, greedy gal, isn’t she?” Soap chimed in, catching himself just before his head fell off the seat. Instead of sitting up, he also scooted closer, still using your lap as a pillow. “Now I’m gettin’ peckish and don’t get nothing to eat. Gonna have to scrounge on the floor before long.” This made Ghost chuckle, shaking you.

“Oh be quiet, both of you. I have spares in my pack, you can have those.” You grumbled, swatting both of their chests. “Not that you’d want to, they're probably as crumbly as a nature valley bar by now. Considering how much I got thrown around tonight.” You said, making Soap snicker at the minor innuendo you’d made— and earning another quick swat.

“Soap threw you around. I was nice about carryin’ you. Should be thankful I didn't toss you to the wolves.” Ghost said, a bit smugly.

“Not that you could, Price would bite your head off if he found out either of you willingly watched me get hurt.” You stated smugly. “I am only here “temporarily”, after all. He’d hate to lose a soldier that wasn't his in the first place.”

“You think he doesn’t think of you as part of the team?” Soap asked, “Lass, the second you set foot on a base with him, you were part of the team, no ifs ands or buts about it. He’ll care for you like he does the rest of us.” He yawned, laying back down without a word.

“Do you know how long until we hit base?” You asked, looking up at Ghost, who was in the process of removing the plastic mask from his face.

“Few hours. You should finish resting.” He said, strapping it to his thigh holster, then leaning back. “I’ll probably join you and Soap here in a bit.” You could hear the yawn brewing in his voice. Poor man was tired.

~

Sleep talkers— the both of them! They had both talked the entire time they slept! Johnny kept going on and on about his sisters and kelpies, how they “was gonna take ‘em and never see him again” and Ghost was just mumbling loudly to himself, talking about yard work and food and he kept saying “sorry”. That last one made you feel like bad for being upset with his sleep-talking— but it was really annoying. By the time you fell asleep, you only got about an hours worth!

The transport came to a harsh stop, jolting you awake as the door swung open. The late-morning sun blinded you as you opened your bleary eyes, only to see Price— who seemed glad to see you, but less than happy with your performance. However, his upset was subsided temporarily by the sight of the three of you piled on each other, mostly asleep. It made him chuckle a little and turn to call Gaz over, who burst into a fit of laughter. This woke up Soap and Ghost, who got embarrassed and annoyed respectively.

“Be quiet.” Ghost grumbled at Gaz, gently pushing your head off his shoulder and getting out, leaving you barely enough time to catch yourself as you started to topple over in the seat. He walked past Price sluggishly, shuddering as he stretched lazily. “Let's finish all this so I can go to bed.”

“Agreed.” Soap said, waiting for you to jump out. When you did, he followed suit and shoulder-checked Gaz. You only mumbled and tried to stand up straight as you followed the other two.

~~

You watched what little movement you could on base from your vantage point in an empty watchtower tonight, listening to music from days long since past. It was your birthday, and since you hadn’t been with the task force very long, you’d assumed they wouldn’t care to celebrate. You usually ended up drinking yourself into a puddle of tears and anger on your birthday, but Price tried to discourage drinking the pain away so you’d try to make him proud. You’d decided to take the night slow and quiet, instead of spending your wallet at the bar.

Sighing, you laid back on the cold metal grate of the platform, staring up at the stars. Memories stirred but didn’t surface, making tears well but not spill over.

“Rough night?” A low, rough voice asked you. You rolled your head to look at the source, seeing Ghost. He wore a lower face covering, that hid everything up to his cheekbones, revealing a torn ear and messy blond hair. “It’s only 8pm and you look like you’ve been through the wringer.”

“More than.” You replied, turning back to the sky. The stars were barely visible over the light of the base, but you could still pick out a few. “Missing someone. Today has been overall pretty shitty. But nightfall always makes it worse.” Your hand went to your tags, fiddling with the ring on them.

He hummed, going to sit next to you. He stayed silent for a bit, eyes flicking between the sky and base. “Happy birthday, by the way.” He said finally, sighing at the end of it. “Price mentioned it briefly this morning but we were pretty busy so we couldn’t do anything for you, if that’s okay.” He looked down at you, but you couldn’t tell what emotion he had going on.

“Thanks. I don’t mind,” You said, sitting up. “Haven’t celebrated my birthday with anyone in a little over seven years, so I’m used to it. Does the Task Force celebrate everyone’s birthdays?” Looking at him, his brow seemed to furrow at that comment. “Probably not, huh?”

“Price tries when he can. We don’t do mine though, because that’s classified.” He shrugged. “He’ll probably try to make it up to you. He’s not one to forget.”

“You’re super classified, huh? I wonder what that’s like. Must be nice having no one know who you really are. Well—” You paused, thinking. “Probably not. I was hearing legends of you even before I got sent this way.”

“More painful than anything, both metaphorically and physically.” He answered. “Only four people know what I look like. Only one knows my full name. It’s not great that everyone approaches me in fear, either. It’s not all fun and games.”

You nodded, getting what he was saying. After a long moments silence, you spoke again. “Do you have anyone back home? Do you think they miss you?” You asked him, standing to lean against the railing. He took a moment to think about his answer, knowing the answer to the first one, but not sure about the second.

“Not anymore. Only person I had disappeared after I did. Don’t blame her, though. I would too.” He stared up at you for a moment, still thinking about his answer to the next question. “I know she misses me. What I wonder is if she’s angry with me. I up and disappeared from her life, not thinking about the consequences.” He said, a hint of regret in his tone.

“I’d be pretty upset. I know the pain of being left behind… That’s pretty shitty of you, don’t you think?” You asked, looking down at him. He grumbled and sighed a little.

“Yeah. I know it is. But I did it for a reason though. I was being sent on a series of missions that would’ve put her in… in a lot of danger. The best route to avoid that was to cut all ties and disappear.” He bit his tongue. “I found her recently. Seems she’s holding up well enough. A deep dive told me she’s never really gotten over me, though. Adds to the rest of the guilt I suppose.”

“Good. Even if you were being chased by the worst monsters in the world, I don’t think she deserved that. You could’ve at least told her it was for her safety!” You scoffed without thinking. You groaned as the words that had left your mouth sank in, and you expected him to get up and walk away or give you a lecture. Instead, he stayed where he was, looking off into the distance. “Shit, I’m sorry. That just slipped out. My own anger got the better of me. That couldn’t have been easy, leaving her—”

“No, you’re right.” He cut you off. “She definitely didn’t deserve to be abandoned. Especially not in the way I did it. But that’s what I did and I have to live with it. Even if I regret it every day of my life.” Standing, he pulled a small pouch out of his pocket, passing it over to you. “Happy Birthday. Later, Firefly.”

You took the pouch and watched as he walked away. When he was out of sight, you opened it and held it up to look at. It was a small, expertly carved firefly figurine. It made you smile and you tucked it back into its pouch, deciding you’d display it on your desk.

[ophelieverse]

Can you write something angsty for my boy Jace please?🥺

₊˚ˑ༄ؘ My bones are your bones.

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader.

The blacks won the war.After his mother,Jacaerys became king and still,after all these years,he’s haunted by the ghost of his first love.

Also Jacaerys,Y/n and Baela deserved better😭

I’m back with whatever this is!Please be gentle with me and thank you so much for all the love y’all gave me!💕🫶🏻

Sorry for the errors and let me know what you think!🥰

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The sound of the rain is delightful.

It beats on the roofs,it ticks on the windows,falls from the downhill streets and huddled people to find a shelter together. Sometimes,tired and melancholy it gets trapped inside a pit and falls asleep.The sun, then, akes the rain away.Only the scent remains, he sky returns to its usual blue and the joyful birds return to chirp.

That afternoon it smelled of rain on the asphalt,but it wasn't raining,not yet.Even if the sky was already covered with clouds and the wind that was blowing was able to carry the scent of lilies that were blooming in the big garden of the castle.

King Jacaerys Targaryen,first of his name,was in his thirty two years of living and seven years of reign.Many things had changed through the decades,he grew taller,wiser and dutiful embracing his birthright as the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.After a bloody and destructive civil war between his family members,between ashes and bones,dragons and brothers,his mother reign was short and not very welcomed by the people.

Jacaerys was like a breath of fresh air,a young and smart man that,since the beginning,knew what he had to do.In his seventh year of reign,he didn’t only changed his last name,like his grandfather requested before his death,but after the war he was a completely different person.

Even rain,the sound and the smell of it,the feeling on the bare skin and the waiting to see it falling for the grey sky was different for him now.

Rain became much more than just water falling from the sky.It is a very underestimated element of nature,whenever it started to rain the world changed.It was raining the first time he kissed her and it was raining the day she died.

For Jacaerys,rain was a similarity of sadness.The sky changes to accommodate the bad mood and then it starts to rain slowly,a heartbreaking slowness that leads him to think as he look at it from behind the window.Exactly like pain,which hugged him slowly and then invaded him completely,soaking his soul.

But the worst rain is the one that comes suddenly,unexpectedly,when he was around and it starts to rain suddenly and he didn’t know how to protect himself from it so he could start running desperately to find shelter.Equal to the pain that hits him straight to the heart like a bolt of lightning in the blue,he couldn’t expect it,he was not prepared for this kind of pain so it spreads in him sucking in every hope of being able to smile in the rain

Everything gets darker,the rain murmurs it’s sad music in his ears and he no longer distinguishes the various scents that usually hover in the streets.The rain covers everything, it covers the noises,the scents and also covers himself.

The dropps of water are short-lived,who knows if in the stretch they make from the sky to the asphalt they are sad because they know that in a few moments they will disappear or if they decide to be happy for their last moments of life.

Whether it comes slow or comes suddenly,rain is always dangerous but never as much as pain. Because the rain ends and then the sun returns but the pain continues because it got under his skin.He could wash his soaked clothes and then he put them to dry and it's like they've never been wet,but he will keep feeling the pain constantly and he’ll like to tear his skin.

The rain in Jacaerys life was sadness,but from the rain he could always find a shelter,from the pain he couldn’t protect himself.

During that time of the day,late evening,an ancient sadness came up from inside him and he knew he didn't have to let her get where it really started to hurt.In the place inside himself where she was still alive,breathing and dancing with his deepest dreams,hopes and fears.

When Jacaerys became King he was only twenty five years old and,for a moment,he was getting better.For a moment he felt good.For a moment he wanted to live.For a moment he had hope again.And in a moment,when he got back at her house,in the gardens and near the lake,he had lost everything again.

He had gone back,the day after his coronation,and everything seemed to have remained the same.The bright light of the sun hitting on the windows,the sweet smell of spring in the air,the crystalline water.It was like in the past,the time he had fallen for her.

He could see some of the roses still blooming in the garden.Brown on the edges and bright in other colors,their petals drooping downward, dying just as their lives have begun.

They stayed past their time,and Jacaerys realized that she have too.Y/n presence was everywhere and it took his breath away,in a second it all came back.

He liked to think that everything was going better,that he was alright and had a new life with a new love in it.But he was wrong.What lived and died between them was still haunting him.

«You promised to protect her!»her father had screamed to him,pure anger on his old face but in his eyes the empty feeling of the pain of having lost his daughter.

«She is gone because of you!»her older sister had sobbed,holding a hand close to her chest.

Death its terrible.So terrible to lose someone.And if he didn't face it,if he didn't deal with it,then he’ll just end up losing himself too.But Jacaerys didn't want to heal.He didn’t wanted to let go,because the pain was the only connection to what he had lost.

When we lose someone to whom we gave all the love we had inside ourselves,at that moment everything stops.We may have a lot of other people around,of course, but in our eyes they will be invisible.We are convinced that nothing will make sense anymore,that nothing will ever be the way it was before.Together with that person we also lose ourselves a bit, denying ourselves the chance to move on.We darken more and more,shrouded in the shadow of our loneliness,forgetting that everything that is not watered,sooner or later withers.

For a moment,Jacaerys closed his eyes.In his mind he was still fifteen,together and in love with her.He liked to believe that they have never been apart,so that he could invent a new past to remember.He could imagine how things would’ve been different if she had been with him.

He imagined what life could’ve been if that day he had decided to take her with him at Dragonstone instead of leaving her behind at Oldtwon.A tiny voice in his head liked to tell him that he did it to keep her safe,once the war started and he was called back to fight.Another part of him,the one that kept him awake at night,tormented him with the heart wrenching feelings that it was his fault.

Y/n death was his fault.

«I’m sorry it ended this way.»was the only thing he could breathe out.

Her younger sister was a Septa,closer to the gods that Jacaerys had stopped to believe in,and the only one that accepted his presence at Y/n memorial near the lake where her body was found.

«Y/n has been dead long before she died.»her sister stated,her grey vest blowing in the chilly wind and her voice soft«The time she had spent with you was the most happy I’ve ever seen her.She was alive for the first time.»she confessed,her bright eyes locked on the cold stone on the green grass.

Jacaerys fell on his knees near where little violets were blooming,his vision was blurry with the tears that were streaming down his cheeks and he almost didn’t noticed the words written on her grave:

“My bones are your bones.”

Jacaerys choked a cry,remembering the poem that they had read together as he whispered«When my time is near,i will be burned with you.So i had desired my dusts to be mingled with yours.Forever and forever,to be able to lay with you.»he prayed.

«Your grace-»her younger sister was trying to comfort him,but he didn’t heard her.

«I had never loved anyone,anything in the way i loved her.»he sobbed,his heart was hurting so much that he wanted to rip it out from his chest with his bare hands«I would never love someone else like this.I can’t.It only happens once.»his hands were trembling as he traced his fingers on the stone pretending it was her face.

Her sister placed a comforting hand on his shoulder,her eyes wet fro the tears and a sad little smile on her lips«For some people not even once.Y/n was very lucky to be loved by you.»she whispered«Your love made her immortal.»as she looked around,from the birds chirping,the blooming flowers,with the awaking of the spring her sister was there.

Jacaerys shook his head,his brain was pounding against his skull,the air was like fire in his lungs«She is gone because of me.»he cried her older sister words.

«Your grace,it wasn’t your fault.My-»the young Septa tried,holding back a the urge to cry with a sad and apprensive smile.

The king choked a sob«You can put the blame on me.I already blame myself.»his eyes burned,his breathe was short«She was there,all alone,and she shouldn’t have.She should have been with me!»the skin on his face was itching,he wanted to take it apart,feel physical pain to numb the one in his soul.

He didn’t wanted her to be immortal if she wasn’t there with him.It was selfish,to dream of having her just for himself and so painful to have loved something that death had touched so easily.

«The gods have reasons-»her younger sister calm voice was interrupted harshly by his.

«What reasons?»Jacaerys almost shouted,turning his head up to look at her«If the gods are so merciful,what was the reason?Why couldn’t they just took some else?Why my Y/n?»he asked as she knew the right answer.

Her younger sister,now that he looked at her better,had the same eyes of his Y/n.But hers were brighter,warmer and full of life.Y/n ones,the last time he saw them up close,were white like sea pearls,cold and empty,dead just like the rest of her.

Her sister knelt besides him,a gentle hand on his shaking back gave him a warm familiar feeling«When we were children,my mother used to scold Y/n because she always preferred to pick the flowers that my mother had just planted»the young girl told him,giggling at the old memory«She said she liked them most because they bloomed with the first day of the spring,they were untouched and they were the most beautiful in the gardens.»she continued with a little voice.

«She loved to paint them.»Jacaerys murmured,closing his eyes for a second.

Her sister nodded«I think the Gods picked my sister for the same reasons.She was the most beautiful flower.»she then said,looking up at the sky.

The clouds were darkening,the chilly wind was starting to blow stronger.It was about to rain again.

«Then why?»he asked again«Why did they made us met and fall in love,if they had to pick her?»he couldn’t understand,this was definitely a punishment for his family sins.

Her sister shook her head«All that i know is that intense love always lead to mourning.»she whispered.

Legend has it that there is always a reason why souls meet.Maybe they found each other for reasons that weren't all that different.They were two souls who sought and found comfort in each other and it is not possible to separate. The reasons why they are united are not incidents.Maybe Y/n needed someone to show her how to live and Jacaerys needed someone to show him how to love.

Memory was an agony,but he remembered everything about the first time he had laid his eyes on her.All the things they did together and even though sometimes he wished he had never met her to spare his heart from this pain,he would’ve been lying to himself if he didn’t wish to do it all again and again just to be with her.

Jacaerys was fifteen,betrothed to his cousin Baela,one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen,fearless and bold.She would’ve made a good Queen one day,ruling by his side with a good heart and an open mind.Even though he was promised to her,Jacaerys had never wondered if he was capable of it,of loving someone romantically.

He had always thought that,for him,a prince that life was already planned by his parents for him,love would remain a utopia,that he would never be able to fall in love with a woman and he did not believe that he would ever have the chance to bond with a girl,not enough to love her.He thought he wouldn't even be able to recognize love.

Then,Y/n had arrived and it was her that he had recognized.Love was not a word.Love was her silhouette.Her height that paraded away from him and reached him on the other side of the corridor and then became her hair and the contours of the light that caressed them.Love was her eyes looking for his mouth and her teeth biting his lips;it was her voice greeting him distracted,while in her throat she still heard my saliva.

The love for Jacaerys was his Lady Y/n and thousands had died because of it.

In the Long Summer of his fifteen years,young prince Jacaerys flew on the back of his dragon,Vermax,from Dragonstone to Oldtown.As the future King,he already had duties and responsibility on his shoulders,one of them was to know and embrace his Valyrian roots.He had heard the whispers,seen himself and his two younger brothers to know the truth that everyone was afraid to talk about.

His mother,Rhaenyra,suggested it would be a good idea for him to study in Oldtown where history and philosophy met daily,where all of his ancestors had learned and whose presences still lingered in the streets.

Lord Penrose house was one of the most beautiful in the Citadel,with ancient paintings,beautiful gardens,big libraries full of histories and the most beautiful thing the prince ever saw in his life.Lord Penrose house was a place were young Lords and Ladies from all the Seven Kingdoms stayed whenever they where in the city to study,but among all the people that crowded the big place,his young daughter,Y/n,was the only one that glowed.

A light green dress hugged her body,clinging to her wet skin,as she emerged from the warm water of the lake in the middle of the central garden.Roses,daffodils and daisies were the most beautiful frame for the most beautiful painting, “The birth of a nymph”he would’ve called it and in that moment Jacaerys wished he was gifted with the capability of painting,to capture that instant forever.Carving it in his mind,heart and soul.

She was one of those beauties he couldn’t forget,because she screams like an earthquake, or a thunderstorm in her impetuous force.She had the charm of an unpredictable destiny.And he had lost his heart.

Jacaerys was frozen,his dark eyes became big as two cups of tea,his cheeks redden as his gaze trailed on her small figure and on the exposed glistening skin.He had never believed in the gods,ora in any other form of deity,but right now he was more than willing to go down on his knees for just a taste of her.

«Are you in need of any assistance,my Lady?»the young prince just noticed the way the hem of her dress got stuck in the branches of the bush near the lake.

The girl didn’t looked at him,her wet hair were clinging to the skin of her neck and falling down her beautiful face«No,thank you.»she groaned as she tried to free herself and not reap the dress at the same time.

Jacaerys smiled at the sound of her voice,gorgeous just like her and only now he noticed that she was holding,in her left hand,two brushes«Are you sure?You seems like you could use some help.»he said with kindness and a bright smile.

Y/n huffed annoyed by the situation«I may be a damsel,but i’m not the distressed kind»she spit out«I don’t need your-»her voice stopped when she lifted her face to look at who she was talking to.

Jacaerys lowered his torso,leaned forward and with a gesture of his wrist broke the twig,then threw it in the middle of the lake.The girl immediately took steps back,surprised by the presence in front of her.She didn't know how to behave,she didn't know whether to thank him or pretend nothing happened.The focus fell on his stature,he was much taller than her and his shoulders could have lifted a trunk from how thick and wide they were.Immediately afterwards she lingered on his eyes,slightly closed for the first rays of the sun.She remained hypnotized by his eyes.Brown,dark.

And a normal person couldn’t add all the adjectives and facets of that color,but for someone like her it wasn’t just brown.Static, firm,her mind was motionless.She almost couldn't see the bottom of those eyes.

Brown and bold,yet rich and deep stood those eyes.

«Here»he said gently,offering his hand to here«Are you alright,my lady?»he asked then,with a worried tone.

Y/n nodded slowly,instead of accepting his hand she used her free one to lift her dress to walk out the water of the lake«Actually,there is something you could help me with my prince.»she said with a calmer voice.

Jacaerys smiled immediately«Of course»he said,«But first can i know your name?»he asked as he walked after her.

«I’m Y/n.»she informed him,barefoot and her dress wetting the floors of the porches«And you are princess Rhaenyra son»she continued.

He nodded«Indeed I’am.»

Jacaerys had visited the big as soon as he had arrived in the morning,Lord Penrose offered him a nutritious breakfast,a tour of the place as he introduced to the young prince all the brightest Lords and Ladies that were studying,but nothing of them could’ve compared with what he was seeing right now.

In a small room,away from the big art studio in her house,there was different canvases,canes of paint and dirty brushes.Y/n placed the brushes she had in her hand on a wooden table were they scattered some pencils and papers.

But what had caught his eyes was the painting right next to him.It was drew directly on the white - stoned wall,not on a canvas and it was not framed,but free on the bricks.

From the windows across the room the rays of the sun illuminated the work of art in all it full glory.A masterpiece it was,from the accurate paint brushes,the fluid technique,the colors that were chosen.It definitely showed that whoever paint it was an amazing artist with years of practice and love and devotion.

On the wall it was represented Gael Targaryen death,the thirteenth and last child of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne.After the deaths of her parents,it was revealed that Gael had been seduced and impregnated by a traveling singer.She had given birth to a stillborn son,and overwhelmed by her grief,she had walked into Blackwater Bay and drowned.

Jacaerys stared at the painting,his ancestors,the young and frail princess was the center of the artwork.She is floating in a body of water.Her head is situated to the left of the composition,and her feet face towards the right-hand side.She is depicted in a beautiful,soft dress barely keeping her buoyant and her midsection is submerged in the water.

Her face is still out of the water,and he could see she had an almost listless expression;her eyes are staring out ahead and her mouth is slightly parted.She appears almost unaware of the fact that she is drowning.There is a necklace of purple violets around her neck and a small pink rosebud on its stem near her right ear.One of Gael hands is floating just above the water,her palm is facing up and her hand appear cupped,the other one is clinging to her empty and cold belly where once a life was supposed to be.

«Which one are you?»the girl asked suddenly,she was using one of the covers that were sitting on a chair next the window to dry her hair.

Jacaerys turned around confused«Uh?»he sounded lost.

Y/n giggled at his expression«I think one the princes is named Joffrey»she started,closing her eyes for a moment to remember better«The other one is Lucas or…no…i think his name is Lucien.»she murmured.

«It’s actually Lucerys and he’s my brother»he corrected her with a soft smile.

«I was close.»she sounded proud of herself and it made him smile even more.

«You were.»he reassured her.

«And you?»she asked.

«I’m Jacaerys.»he introduced himself.

Y/n stayed quiet for a second«Why are you here Jacaerys?»it was the first time someone asked him why he wanted to go to Oldtown.

The prince swallowed,licking his dry lips«I’m here to study,my Lady.»he informed her,standing still on his feet.

She pursed her lips,trailing her eyes on his regal figure«That’s what you told my father and perhaps what you told your mother.»she was reading him like a book without much effort«But why are you really here?»she asked again.

Her eyes were on him and for the first time in his life he felt seen.Something warm was spreading in his chest,his hands were sweaty as he looked at her coming closer to him.Her dress was still wet,hugging her perfect silhouette,as she walked past him.

«Why were you in the lake?»Jacaerys asked a question instead of answering hers.

Y/n was holding an annoyed expression but a little smile was forming on her face«I had thrown my brushes in it.»she explained.

The young boy looked even more confused now,walking around covered canvas with white sheets and empty easels«And,forgive me for asking,why would you do that?»he said with a chuckle.

«I will answer your question when you will answer mine.»she stated with a playful expression on her sun kissed face.

Jacaerys looked again at the painting on the wall,the purple eyes and silver hair that he never had and still,after all these years,were haunting him every time he looked at himself.The whispers,the nasty glances,the harsh words and his mother reassurances did everything and nothing at the same time to carve on him his true identity.

«I want to be part of something.»he immediately said,after taking a deep breathe.

His mother always told him that,not matter what,he was and always will be a Targaryen.He had a dragon that followed his orders and he was the heir of the Iron Throne.Yet whenever he looked at his family members he felt like an outsider,like he was admiring a beautiful painting from afar.If he knew something more about his family,maybe he could feel part of it.

Y/n sounded content with his answer but she didn’t added anything«I threw my brushes in the lake because my father wants me to marry Ser Gwayne Hightower.»she said suddenly.

Jacaerys cringed at the sound of his name«I can assume that it’s not what you wanted.»

The girl let out a frustrated sound,crossing her arms on her chest«All i want to do is to paint.»she murmured,looking around her small art studio.

«You can still paint after you get married.»Jacaerys stated with nonchalant advice.

«My father fell in love with my mother after he saw her paint in the streets of the Citadel.She was the most talented artist,but after their marriage she had never touched a brush again.»Y/n explained with a distant melancholy.

«We are not our parents.»Jacaerys started with a solid voice and a comforting expression«We can change and still decide what to be and what to do.Even if it’s all already planned for us.»he needed to hear these words as much as her.

«Don’t do that.»Y/n shook her head with a small smile.

Jacaerys smiled with her«Do what?»he asked.

«Make me become a optimist.»she answered«You will ruin my life and i didn’t invite you here for this.»she continued picking up the paint and the brushes that she needed for her next work.

«Why did you invited me here for?»he raised a brown.

As he looked at her,he realized that in a very short time that was a special feeling when he was with her,and he wished that wonder would remain in his life forever.

«I want you to pose for me.»she answered.

After a year in her house,that sensation grew stronger and Y/n was the one that showed him the city,Oldtown,in all its beauty.She was at his bedroom door one morning,a dark cloak in her left hand and a pile of commoners dirty clothes in the other.She was dressed as a boy,light brown pants that were too big for her and a maroon shirt.

«You have to be one with the city to enjoy it at it fullest.»she had told him,shoving the dirty clothes in his hands.

Something told Jacaerys that she was used to sneak out in disguised,to loose herself in the crowd and to be just like everyone else around.

«There is no other place like this in the world,my prince.»Y/n was walking beside him,the first lights in the morning and the ancient architecture framing them.«Sometimes walking in silence,I feel like I'm listening to the voices of those who filled these streets before me.Lives after lives,after other lives,for centuries,and I know that even King’s Landing and Dragonstone are made of centuries of history and people,but you can't recognize every moment of that story overlapping like this,one on the other.»she sounded so in love with the place she was born and grew up with,her eyes scanning every place that learned by heart in the years.

«I’ve never seen something so breathtaking.»Jacaerys confessed,but his eyes weren’t looking,weren’t taking in what the Lady next to him was talking about,they were fixed on the way her lips moved.

«Me neither,no matter how many times i walk here.»she admitted.

«Can i…will i be able to look at if forever?»he didn’t know what he was asking for,but he had to ask.

Maybe he was asking her to be always by his side,to always have something beautiful to look at.

Y/n nodded«Oldtown does not lose its pride,its sincerity,its sarcasm and the uncontrollable cynicism with which for centuries it has watched generations of the world fall in love with it,without ever breaking down.Breathe in Oldtown,Jacaerys,tomorrow it will already be different,tomorrow there will also be your smell,in a hundred years they will still feel it,here nothing is lost.»she reassured him with a gentle smile.

«We will be here forever?»Jacerys said,stood in the middle of the square,people all around them laughing and talking,different shades of colors and tunes of musics.

«We will be here forever.»Y/n repeated with a sincere and strong affirmation«Even when our bones will become ashes and our souls will leave this earth,you will always found us here.»then she took his hand,her fingers latching on his,their skins caressing each other,a silent promise as she started to walk again with him.

In the time they had spent together,Jacaerys had learned that one of Y/n older brothers became a Maester for the Citadel,her older sister was married to Lord Manderly son and was expecting their fourth child,her younger sister was studying to become a Septa and her younger brother was training to be a knight in the capital.

After the first kiss that they shared together,she opened up more to him«They already knew what they wanted,what to be in this big world.»Y/n said to him.

«And you?»Jacaerys asked her one evening.

They were walking slowly in the city streets,a cloak on their shoulders as she showed him all the beauty that history can offer them.Immortals and young at the same time.

«Me?»her sweet voice was surprised,her nose scrunching up in confusion.

«Yes.»he said quietly«What is it that you want?»he asked this time,keeping his gaze on her silhouette.

She seemed to think about,maybe a second or two,no one has aver asked her what she wanted «I want to live near the ocean,in a beautiful house with big windows so that i can watch the water.»she started with a dreamy look in her beautiful eyes«Oh and i also want a room,a small one,just for me where i can paint.»she continued with a small smile on her lips.

Jacaerys heart soared in his chest,a bright smirk on his face was burning his cheeks«Anything else?»he chuckled.

She nodded immediately«I also want you to take me fly on your dragon,»her small face heated up«to see the rest of the world with you.»she added.

«Thats what you want?»his heart was beating loudly in his ear,he almost couldn’t heard her.

But then she smiled brightly,like she was shy«Yes»she nodded again«Would you do it for me?»she asked with a tiny voice.

He pulled her to himself in the dark,under a building,an arch,a slit of the world,pushed her against the wall and kissed her.And if he had gone crazy,to kiss her under the eyes of so many people,she would let him do it and she would have been crazy the same way,or even more,if he had asked her.

«Sometimes,Y/n,»Jacaerys whispered on her lips,behind him the Temple of the Seven stood in all it magnificent«I get doubts about the existence of the Gods.»he confessed to her.

«What?»she murmured confused,opening her eyes to look at how beautiful he was so close to her.

«Shh,»he said,his hand holding her face and thumb against her delicate mouth,«I have doubts about the existence of the Gods.Then I look at you and think that the Gods,even just one of them,must necessarily exist,because Nature cannot be so diabolical to create something so beautiful and prohibit it.»He approached,squinted his thumb on her half-closed lips,and spoke in her ear in a hoarse voice that made her tremble«Nothing is like you and there is nothing that i wouldn’t do to make you happy.You want to see the world?I’ll buy it for you,i’ll give you every centimeters of this earth,every drop of water,all the clouds in the sky.»And it was almost a lament.

«Would you do it for me?»she asked again,she was breathless,cheeks red and hair messy but she was the most beautiful thing in the whole city.

Jacaerys nodded his head slowly«But i will only ask you something in return.»he breathed out,holding himself up with a hand on the wall near her head.

«What is it that you want?»Y/n nose brushed against his,her breath tickling his neck.

«You.»he said immediately«I want you to be my wife,i want you to be mine as i’m yours and even after our deaths our love can still remain right here where we stood.»his lips were on hers again,a way to keep this promise and to be forever tangled with her.

No matter how many squares there would be later,how many statues,staircases,temples, paintings or extraordinary palaces would await them at the end of that darkness,that smile of her as she pronounced a small«I do.»would always be a blasphemy screamed in the face of the Gods,or art,and nothing could ever be more beautiful.Oldtown was just a worthy frame.

Jacaerys never smiled again after that day.That’s was everyone said about him,a joyless man,severely marked by his experiences during the civil war that changed his life forever.The King could be graceful and courtly when it was required,but at the same time had a darkness within him that never went away.The guilt he felt over having abandoned and lost Y/n kept him awake every night.He had known love and it had broken his heart.

Even after years,when everyone moved on,how could he think of looking at and recognizing the same world as before,after loving in that way?How could he imagine going back to living any life after that,after Y/n? How could he think he was the same person?She had changed his name and stole his soul.There was nothing of him without her.

Jacaerys knew it wasn’t fair,not just for them,he had promised and dreamed a life with her but it also wasn’t fair for his wife,Baela,that was caught in the crossfire of a dying love that could never be replaced.

Jacaerys was a good King and a even better father for his five children,but he wasn’t a good husband.He tried his best,but that evening,the day before his thirty three Name Day,the Gods were indeed punishing for letting the day of his birth to also be the day he lost his love,he had spoken to his wife for the first time in the entire week.

Baela was wearing a beautiful dark red dress with golden embroiderers on,her curly hair were tied up on her head with the purest gems between them.She looked beautiful,the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms.

«What are you doing?»Jacaerys voice sounded distant,it made her flinch,stopping her hand before she could reach the handle to open the door.

«I was looking for you.»she stated,composing herself and taking a deep breath.

Baela stood right in front the door where Jacaerys kept hidden,on the inside,what his heart desired the most,something that he wouldn’t share with the rest of the world ever again so that no one could take her away from him again.

«I told you to not come in here.»his face was made of stone,always so serious and dark as he spoke lowly.

Baela nodded,never loosing her pride«I wanted to discuss the plans for your Name Day,before it is too late.»she cleared her throat and held her chin up.

«Not today,to now.»he simply answered.

«You always say this.»her tone was sharp,like her gaze on his taller and broader frame.

«And you never listen!»Jacaerys voice came out harsh,he closed his eyes for a moment when he saw her painful expression.

«Why would I?You never talk to me or even look in my direction if you aren’t forced to do so!»Baela accused him,it was the truth though,he couldn’t bare any of this.

Jacaerys let out a deep sigh«Just take the children to do whatever they want,let Laenor decide.I will join you later in the day.»he simply stated,moving across the room.

«Later in the day?»Baela scoffed,a sour laugh on her lips«She will still be dead tomorrow and the day after and for all the years to come,your children are here and alive and yet you rather spend your time in this tomb than with us!»her anger lashed out,but the silence her harsh words were met with hurt more.

Jacaerys had fire in his eyes.Baela didn't even think he knew how to scream and from that moment on she didn't understand anything.It seemed to her that she was no longer present: she was a spectator of the consequences of her stupidity and her profound naivety.Baela felt his hand squeeze her arm and drag her first along the the hallway,out of the room,and, then, across the lawn.She had always considered him calm,quiet,collected,he was yes taller,but she never thought he had so much strength.His gaze burned,he was out of his mind,yet his body remained calm,of an indefinite and chilling composure.

Hours later,as her husband locked himself in that one room,Baela was sitting in one of the terraces of the Red Keep,sipping some hot tea and looking at the beautiful city below her eyes. She was supposed to be a mask of frustration,humiliation and disappointment. Everything that had happened that afternoon went back and was rewritten,with the new eyes of deception and anger.Because it was what she felt and he understood it and repeated it:

«Not today,not now.» almost like a prayer.

«Hypocrite!Go to the seven hells,Jace!»she screamed as he walked away.Without voice, without strength,without momentum.Almost out of politeness.But he didn’t came back.

«Has he told you anything?»Rhaena asked with a small voice,sitting right across from her and a pitiful expression on her beautiful face.

«Jace never talks about her or the time he had spent at Oldtown.He never talks about anything.»Baela had whispered to her twin sister.

Rhaena gave her a sad smile,squeezing her sister hand«Maybe,one day,he’ll come around.You just have to give him some time.»she tried to reassured her.

«It’s been years and still he loves a dead girl more than he will ever love me.»Baela murmured,she felt bad for thinking these sort of things but seeing her husband,the man that she had always wanted so devoted to a girl that wasn’t there anymore made her heart crumble.

«You have to understand him.»Rhaena started,taking a deep breath«He wasn’t there to protect her and she died without giving him the chance to say goodbye.If i had lost Lucerys in the same way,i don’t know if i would be able to stay alive.»she confessed with a quivering voice and looking down.

Baela stayed quiet,swallowing the hard lump in her throat.She still remembered the night of her wedding,how happy she was when she first saw Jacaerys waiting for her at the altar in the Temple in the city,every girl in the Seven Kingdoms wished to have him but he was hers by the laws of the gods.Then,that same night,after he drunk all the wine he could’ve found,he went on top of her,did what he could and whispered in her ear a name:

«Y/n,my love.»

It was the first time that Baela heard it,the only time that he spoke about her,before closing himself in his private chambers.

Baela was a living woman,his wife,the Queen and the mother of his children.Y/n was a dead girl,a corpse that,just like the Targaryen House tradition,was burned by the fire of his dragon during her funeral.And yet Jacaerys was still completely in love with her.

Baela hated her,his love,his Lady Y/n.She hated her,a girl that she never met and never will,with all the pain she had suffocated in the last years of their marriage,because it was her, because it was him,for all that they meant to each other.Because Y/n represented what Baela wanted to be and she enjoyed the one thing she wanted to have:Jacaerys’love.

She didn’t knew anything about this girl,only a name that her husband whispered like oxygen.Baela also knew that they met in Oldtown when Jacaerys went to study,when she had begged him to take her with him,she often wondered if things would’ve changed of went differently if she went with him,if during that summer,during that three years he had fallen for her,his betrothed,instead that with another girl.

In the long summer of so many moons ago,when Y/n was just a young girl that hated to be called a Lady even though her voice,just like the princesses of the fairytales,breathed roses and Jacaerys knew nothing about love and was certain of not many things in his life,they met for the first time under the sweet dark trees and with the perfume of peaches and honey in the air.

Y/n was everything a girl of her age,of her social status was not supposed to be:loud,inconvenient,wild and with always something to say.She had always been as fragile as porcelain but inside herself she cherished something strong and indestructible. Inside her heart she lived on the sadness that over time had turned into art.

And now that she was gone,she was like the paintings Jacaerys detached from the walls of his room after she left.She stayed like the rectangular marks left on the walls.

Now he looked at her image like he did every day,at the same hour,from the same spot,letting his dark eyes memorize every piece,very small detail that he so meticulously had engraved in his brain,in his heart.

Over the long and painful years,Jacaerys would often dream of her.His bright light in an ocean of darkness,whose despair mirrored his own,and whose love brought him a joy he had never felt,and have not felt since.

Years ago,this room was supposed to be her art studio,a reserved place where it was always sunny and bright,where she could watch the ocean,the way the waters shined under the rays of the sun and the waves crashed on the shore.A place where she could’ve taught to their children how to paint,where she wouldn’t have to be the Queen,just herself,just the person that he loved more than anything else in the world.

Instead,it became a tomb for his memory of her.Jacaerys had conserved everything she had gave him,the flowers she used to pick from the gardens,the little silly doodles that she made of them and her ghostly and everlasting presence.He thought that if he painted what haunted him,he could free himself of her forever.In all these years,he had never been more wrong about anything.

She was everywhere,in the air that burned his lungs,in all the salty tears that washed down his face,in the sound of the rain,in the laughter of his children through the corridors,in the flowers in the meadows,in the sun that welcomed him every morning and in the moon that accompanied him to sleep every night.

In his private chambers,in that small and quiet room,away from everyone else eyes and presence,Jacaerys had let in only the best artists,the most talented painters he could had find in the Seven Kingdoms.

It took years,after his coronation and arranged marriage with his cousin Baela,to finally find someone who was able to represent his biggest fear,the only thing that made his heart ache and beat again,that made his blood flow in his veins,his eyes water and his lips trembling with the whisper of a faint name:

«Y/n.»

His Lady Y/n was as beautiful as the day he had lost her,pale and serene.

Her image was painted right on the stone wall,not on a canvas and definitely not restrained by any frame.Jacaerys wanted her to be free by any restrictions and to occupy all the space,every centimeters like she did with his mind and all of his memories.

She was there,so close to him that if he wanted he could reach forward and let his hand,even his fingertips trace briefly the curves of her frame.But he never did,to touch her it would be a sin,a privilege that he had lost and he’s punishing himself for it.

She was there in the middle of a lake,just like when he first laid his eyes on her,when he first met her and felt his heart skip a beat,his mouth dry and palms sweaty.Surrounded by the awestruck swans,a nymph she had been,a real nymph like the ones he used to read in the ancient books,submerging her skin like roses in the crystalline waters.Her hips like a flower shrouded by foam seemed to turn golden,bathed by the light coming through the leaves.Her collarbones like wings spread from the base of her throat to the ends of her shoulders.A bird held down by skin.

She was paler than dead,her eyebrows were smooth and thin and angular like in every antique portrait.Her lips were pursed,her mouth scarlet red and her teeth set close together,her soft eyes were looking right into his,shining with the sweetest melancholy.Her face was turned,up in search for the light like the most precious flower.

Her marvelous poetry,her splendid sensibility her tragic and beautiful mouth made him quiver.Jacaerys was the King,but in front of her,of the beautiful,young and full of life girl that she once was before she had became immortal before his eyes,he was nothing but just the young and naive boy full of love that she once met.

A broken porcelain vase and a now dry,light pink dress,that still smelled like her,was all that remained in that room of the first time they shared a kiss and understood what loving someone meant.

She was love,Y/n was his love.

Jacaerys loved her way of seducing him,a flirtatious look,an indiscreet smile,they wete part of her weapons as a beautiful lady,of which he declared himself defenseless.

These were things he loved in her,he loved her flaws,the nobility of her feelings,her way of seeing life,he loved her optimism and the way she encouraged others,she was a miracle that fate has sent to give him inspiration with a beautiful smile.

Like a beautiful flower that opens its petals to receive the sun's rays after receiving the morning tuft.Like a beautiful flower,the one on a cliff,it resists the weather,drought,rain, strong winds,strengthening one's being,to face day by day,opening the petals to beautify the landscape,always with a beautiful smile.Like a beautiful lotus flower,which,regardless of where it grows,rises with great beauty.This is how his Y/n’s love was,that with her mere presence she give beauty,her journey she begin to sigh to hearts.

Before that day,before kissing her for the first time,Jacaerys have not noticed love.

But for Y/n,he was so easy to fall in love with.He made her feel safe,he made everything feel like an adventure with a hand always on the small of her back to guide her.He laughed at things easily,he was kind,gentle,sweet and thoughtful.He listened to her words and to her silences.

«Come here.»he said to her one day,opening his arms wide,and she went.

«Stay.»he begged her,and she stayed,she wished she could had stayed with forever.

They were in her art studio,it had been months since they met for the first time and since she asked him to pose for him.

Y/n stood there,proud,never in awe and with a beauty so brazen as to intimidate the centuries of literature and art that framed her.Even though her house was a museum,not a single item could’ve compared to her.

«Don’t look at me.»she murmured,even though her eyes were set on the wall she was painting she could still feel his stare on her figure«Keep your chin down and look at the window.»she instructed him.

It was easy for her to say,but it was hard for Jacaerys to do it when the only thing he wanted to look at it was her.Y/n was a few feet from him,her hair were messily tied up her head,but some of them still managed to fell down on her beautiful face.Her body was wrapped in a delicate pink dress,a white apron stained with paint,she was barefoot as always.Nothing out there,outside the windows,was worth looking when she stood there like a little goddess.

Jacaerys was sitting on footstool and he was trying his hardest to remain still and to look where she asked.The marigolds,the daisies,the tulips were so plain,Y/n skin was smoother than any of their petals,her lips plumper and her scent enough to drive him crazy.

«I thought that she was the one naked and chained.»Jacaerys observed as he took a quick glance at was she was painting.

On the wall next the door,it was represented Argella Durrandon and Orys Baratheon.She was the daughter and only child of Argilac the Arrogant,the last Storm King.After her father was killed in Aegon's Conquest,she married Orys Baratheon,the first Lord of Storm's End,founding the new House Baratheon.

They delivered her to Orys,naked and chained. Orys,however,covered her with his cloak and treated her chivalrously,the next day he had married her.

«She is.»Y/n muttered,cleaning one of her brushes to use a different color.

Jacaerys hummed,his cheeks were a little red«He is too.»he noticed.

The two people were naked,their body fluids like they couldn’t feel the heavy chains on their wrists and ankles.Holding each other,trying to cover each other with his cloak,their eyes locked and their lips a centimeter away.

«They are the same,is what love do to us.»Y/n told him,taking a step back to admire her unfinished work.

«My bones are your bones.»Jacaerys whispered,getting up and quoting an old poet that they had read together.

«Where you go i go,what you see i see.»Y/n nodded,continuing it.«Argella was given to him as a slave,but he freed her and made her his wife.Orys was a bastard child,but for her it was the first man that treated her like a person.They were both chained all their lives,they were the same.»she said,her eyes were soft like the sound of her voice.

Equals,on the same level.That what Jacaerys felt when he was with her,understood.Like he was missing a piece and the hole was filled whenever she was near,like he was drowning and she was air.A balance,something safe and comforting.They were the same,Y/n was chained by her father choices and Jacaerys was chained by his mothers.

«If Gwayne Hightower won’t let you paint,he’s a total idiot.»Jacaerys said suddenly,surprising her«Because he will miss how beautifully and uniquely you view the world.»it pained him to smile to her like that.

Y/n eyes widened,her cheeks were rosy as she tried to hide the way her heart was beating.Jacaerys was so much closer now,she could feel his shoulder touching hers,see all the dark shades of his eyes.

«The world is always beautiful,you just have to look at it the right way.»she told him.

Jacaerys shook his head«The world is beautiful when you look at it.»he said,his fingers were trembling as tried to reach for hers.

Their invisible chains were entangling on each other,every ring was forged with heavy duties,promises and responsibilities.At both ends a marriage,unspoken words that were trying to drag them away from each other.

But we can't be with anyone,we're made for a few people.Jacaerys was made for being loved by Y/n,she was made for being loved by him.On the same level,equals.His bones were her bones.

«Jace-»she took a few step back,knowing where it was going to lead.

They both tried in these months that they had spent together to not give in,to suffocate the burning desire that was growing between them.Anyone could seen that something was blooming,something pure and soft that needed to be protected by the harsh weight of reality.He was to be married to his cousin and to become King,she was to be some else wife.

«I think i love the version of myself that i’am when I’m with you.»he confessed,his breath was rapid«I love what I become,what I no longer hide,everything you make me reveal.»he sounded relieved but also in pain as he took in her ethereal figure.

«I didn’t do anything-»she dismissed him,she was becoming shy.

«I love everything about you,that's probably why i love myself when i'm with you.»his heartbeat was ringing in his ears,but he could still hear hers perfectly in tune with his«Whenever i’m with you i feel like i’m part of something.»he breathed out almost killing her.

Y/n made him feel at home,like everything in him was right.That yearning feelings,that desire to be part of something became real,he was part of her now.They spoke the same language,breathed the same air.She looked at him with different eyes and he couldn’t help to give her his heart.

«I think it’s about to rain.»she said,picking up the porcelain vase where the dirty brushes where.

As she made her way out of the room,a hand placed on her chest to keep her heart in it,she felt like she was about to explode.For Y/n painting was the metaphor for control.Every choice was hers:the canvas,the color.As a child she had neither a sense of the world nor a place inside it,but art taught her that our vision is only achieved with the will.The same goes for life. As long as she didn’t allow someone to get in her way.

Jacaerys went in the way.He was everywhere,he was her.The other half.She didn’t had control whenever he was around,her thoughts became his,her choices revolved around him.For the first time in her life she knew what she wanted.And the incessant and tormented desire of love,for her,was him.

He was walking fast behind her«Stop following me.»she yelled,quickening her pace,her face was hot and she was right,it was about to rain.

«I’m afraid I can’t.»Jacaerys said«My heart calls for yours.»it sounded like a lament.

Y/n immediately frozen on her feet,almost tripping on the stairs that were leading to the gardens«Shh!»she whispered looking around to make sure nobody had heard«There can be people everywhere here!»she warned him embarrassed.

Jacaerys was in front of her now,so handsome that he looked like she had drawn him«Do you think I care?I’ve been hiding all my life,I won’t hide what I feel for you.»he stated proudly.

«What you think you feel for me.»she corrected him,but when he took a step closer she didn’t moved an inch this time.

The gesture encouraged him even more«I know what my soul is been aching for.My love for you can’t even be contained in it.»he chuckled.

«Love is not measured my prince»Y/n had told him that evening,holding the porcelain vase in her hands,her beautiful skin gleaming under the cloudy sky and her hair messy from the sweet wind«it is not in what we do or say.Love is what we are.And I know who you are.»she had breathed out,almost as she was shy to admit it out loud.

Y/n didn’t seem to have noticed love too.As Jacaerys eyes cried out “I love you”,as in a sigh his heart fell exhausted,as with a smile of hers or with her sweet voice his soul vibrates.She didn't notice it with a caress of the tips of his hands,with the touch of his lips on her skin,with the intention of caressing her heart and kissing her soul.She haven't noticed that with her presence alone she changed his days,spring is in his heart even though the long winter was upon them.Y/n did not notice that:Jacaerys breathe her breath,it is oxygen for his desires,food for his feelings,fertile soil where the seed of love grows,he breathe her breath,in the preamble of a kiss,before savoring the nectar of her mouth,putting an end to a drought,with this expectation to feel her lips next to mine,selling their love with silent promise.

«We wasted so many months.»he had breathed on her sweet tasting,cherry colored lips«All we did was talk,while we could’ve been doing this.»he said,angry for her mouth again.

Y/n smiled in the kiss,he was the first to lain in«Have you been thinking about this?.»she asked,a hint of teasing in her voice as she caressed his sun kissed cheeks.

Jacaerys nodded his head,his eyes hazy,his heart was beating so fast he thought that it could escape his chest«Every time that i was watching you paint,all i could think about was kissing you senseless.»he admitted with a light chuckle.

He had spent many evenings in her company,in silent,taking or arguing about something stupid in her little art studio near the lake.Watching her being so passionate about something,the way her hair glimmered,her hands moving,all of her attention on what she was doing.He felt stupid for being jealous,to wanting her to touch him in the same way,to paint him and being passionate towards him in the same way.

The girl in his arms gasped,a little laugh tickled the back of her throat«Don’t you dare.You would’ve ruined my concentration.»she scolded him lovingly.

«Am i that distracting?»Jacaerys asked raising a brow,already knowing the answer to his question.

Y/n seemed to became smaller in his loving embrace and he pulled her closer to him,sheltering her«When i look at you,sometimes i feel overwhelmed that you exist.»she whispered,only him could make her feel so self conscious about herself.

She had never tried to paint what she felt for him,because to do it she would have to invent a new color.Y/n simply find comfort in the fact that he existed.When she sees him she got this feeling of relief,to known that she was alive and near him.

«You were right,it's going to rain.»he said,noticing how the sky had become darker«In every drop of rain there is a little hope;isn't that how you said?But then,what does that mean?»he asked with a small smile.

«It means that every drop of rain holds the promise of regrowth.»she answered«Every drop has its purpose,even if it doesn't know it.I believe that it can happen to us too to feel purposeless,but we have it.»she continued.

«Well,i have one now.»he said,caressing her chin lovingly.

«Do you?»she giggled.

«Yes.»he hummed«May i kiss you again?»Jacaerys asked,filling his heart with the feeling of her skin,supple and fresh,not blemished with the sickness that is death.

«Now?»Y/n said,looking around as she heard the sound of voices coming through the gardens.

And he smiled,that bright and slow smile again«Now is preferable,but i can do it for the rest of my life too.»he murmured before kissing her again and again and again.

But it was a lie,a horrible and disgusting lie.They didn’t have that time and she didn’t have the rest of his life.As she became dissolving flesh and melting bones,Jacaerys grew up in a man that wished to be alone with her once again.To be in that gardens,to watch her paint,to hear her voice and touch her young and precious skin again.

Jacaerys had dream of it again that night.

Y/n face,her familiar eyes.In his dreams she was still with him.Sometimes,when he touched her,her warmth seemed so real that he was out of breath.The eyelids trembled,the heart stretched and then tore in pain.He was bleeding in the silence of the night,alone,suffocating in the pillow the agony that during the day I tried at all costs to suppress.

He dreamed to hear her laugh.

«I miss you and i’m so sorry.»he whispered.His voice cracked.He hated it when it happened, because it made it even more real.It was like admitting that she wasn't there.That she would never be there anymore.That those memories were the only thing he had left.

Her eyes,her sweetness and her good heart.It had been a piece of advice,a perfume,a secretly given caress

Coming closer to the stone wall,Jacaerys,touched it.His fingers trembling like he had felt the cold water that was hugging her body.He couldn’t bring himself to trace his fingertips over her small figure,but he felt the itching desire to touch the painted water,to touch at least something that she had been part of and that loved.He doesn’t indulge it or grasp at it though.He gently absorbs a fleeting glimmer of something delicate that she had left behind,her love for the water,ocean,the lake at her parents house.Something that was part of her and just like her,he couldn’t hold it anymore.

How many things he would give,his crown,his own life to be the water that touched her skin,that held her so closely.Just once again,it would’ve been more than enough for him,to touch and feel her skin,inhale her scent just for a second again.

He kept his eyes were his hand was,he couldn’t look into hers but they were all he could think about.He memorized her face as if it was his mirror or a prayer that needs to be said every night.He would forget his name before he forgets her.

Then like a ghost,a mournful memory,she seemed to walk through the room,a white halo following her.Soft like a holy flower,her body seemed to be carved out from marble.Sparkly and calm eyes,her beautiful eyes,ruby lips,rosy cheeks.All her grace was in her vagueness,her voice was distant and soft,her manner languid,her features blurred and dreamy.She looked like a cruel immortal,finding her spiritual feast in the agonies of his dying heart.

The last time that he saw her was when he came back for her,after flying back to Dragonstone when his mother throne was usurped by his uncle,she was dead.She was killed and he couldn’t erase the imagine from his nightmares.It felt like he was looking at the painting of Gael Targaryen on the wall in her art studio.

Such a cruel faith to be abandoned and to be killed by the two things she loved the most:his love and water.Y/n was dying,gasping for air,trying to breathe,falling deeper and deeper into the darkness as her fragile body sank under the cold water.One of the soldiers that sympathized for the Greens had his rough hands around her delicate,thin neck as he was drowning her in the lake of her house.Then he left her lifeless body under the cold rain for Jacaerys to find.A threat,a challenge.

That night Oldtown burned,thousands had died for his love.He did too,he loved her so much that he had let her kill him,he will always adore her like a drowned person adore the sea.

«You are here early.»her ghost spoke to him with a tender whisper.

Jacaerys closed his eyes,they were burning«I missed you.»he said with a shaky tone.

«You should stop to come here.»she told him,moving quietly behind him.

He shook his head«I can’t live without you,without seeing your face.»

«But i’m not here,i don’t exist anymore.»she remained him.

«My bones are your bones.»he repeated«This is more than enough for me,till what will remain of me will lay with you.»he gestured at the portrait he was looking at.

«I wish you shouldn’t be doing this.»she smiled sadly.

«Me too.»he suppressed a cry«I wanted you to be my wife,the mother of my children.I’m sorry that life couldn’t gave us this.»he was shaking.

Then he felt a caress,like the wind in the spring«I will find you in another one.Where we will be free by any chain and you can kiss me every time you will se me paint.»it was a promise.

He blinked.He felt the acrid sensation behind his tongue again.He tried to breathe but his heart slowed down with heavy,suffocating thuds,a bruise with every beat.He took a step back as if to withdraw from the pain,his eyes were squinting around,warm and lost.The pain of climbed into his heart and he tried not to deform under that weight,but it was useless.

The throat closed and the sight flatned.Jacaerys soul was crumpled.Y/n absence collapsed on me all at once again . Sometimes it didn't seem possible to him. Sometimes it was as if that day in the garden had never existed,as if he was still expecting to see her come in the door,greet him and take him home.Sometimes he even thought he saw it among people,behind a man's hat or over the window of his room.

It was just an instant,but his eyes deluded him and his heart fell for it.«Endure»whispered Y/n voice,and the pain reached an unbearable peak. He felt the rubble inside him asking him to scream,vent,burst once and for all.She was eroding me from the inside.

Soon Y/n would take everything:his soul,his eyes,even his voice.They say there are five stages of mourning.The first is negation.The rejection of the loss,the inability to accept such a radical shock.The others are anger, processing,depression and finally acceptance. Jacaerys didn't recognize myself in any.He didn't want to reject reality.He couldn't make it happen.He was under the illusion of getting by, suppressing a pain that then exploded like a caged creature.He had put a key to his heart, but suffering is not something he could tame.

It breathes with him.It feeds on his hopes.It drinks his dreams,his looks and his fears.It sits at the table and watches him eat.He could pretend not to see it,but it won't leave him. Every now and then it whispers something to him.It has the sweetest voice in the world,but it's a heart-rung song.He can't forget it.It learns to wait for him.And it fits him,just like a living creature.Learn to live in his own silence,fly through his nightmares,dig into the dark and take root.It looks more like him than anyone else.The suffering is him.I took a deep breath, crossing his reflection.The reddened eyes contained the pain that he could no longer suffocate.He kept strangling it,suppressing it, locking it up and gagging it in his most hidden ravines.

And looking at that familiar face in his soul,Jacaerys prayed that he could see Y/n again,one day.So as to show her the empty shell that he was without her — and then he would have caressed her,but with her own sweetness.Squeezing her until she merged with his heart,he would say to her:«Endure with me, because I can't do it alone.»

He had known love and it had broken his heart.

He had finally understood one thing:there are thousands of ways to die in the world.Those who kill you outside,and those who kill you inside.But there is only one engraved with your name and it beats in another person's chest.

«Stay»he whispered to her.«Stay in the room. Stay in this moment.Stay with me.»he pleaded.

But of course she never does.She wasn’t there anymore.She was immortal,stuck and framed forever in his heart and in between the art and history of the city they fell in love in.

[peakyswritings]

Gilded Prison

Summary: She wanted nothing but love, and yet she found herself locked into a gilded prison.

Warnings: angst, Tommy being a jerk.

A/N: I wrote this for @runnning-outof-time ’s 3K celebration. Congrats again, darling💕

The gif is not mine, credits to the owner

The soft night breeze run through (Y/) hair as she stood in her garden, the smell of jessamine and roses filling her nostrils. With her eyes closed, she could pretend she was still in her childhood home, barefoot on the grass, surrounded by the flowers her mother used to grow with so much care. There was love, and joy, and laughter. And freedom.

What else could you possibly want?

She couldn’t deny how those words stung. How much it hurt when Tommy spat them out, venom dripping from his lips.

You have fancy dresses and furs, more jewels than you can count, time to spend and a big nice house full of maids. What else could you possibly want?

How could she explain to him that she didn’t care about any of those things? None of that mattered if he wasn’t there with her. If he didn’t love her. She didn’t need the dresses, the furs or the jewels. She didn’t even need that big nice house. She needed to be listened to, to be understood, to be loved.

How could she explain to him that Arrow House had become a gilded prison? That he felt more like a jailor, rather than a husband?

Things between them were fine only as long as she showed herself to be nice, pleased and compliant. Because she had no reason to be angry or sad. They were perfectly happy, until she dared to disagree with him. Because he was always right. God forbid she told him a truth he did not want to hear.

That was the problem with him. Sometimes, it felt like to him she was nothing but an extra in his life, or a doll with no feelings or desires. But she had feelings, and desires, and thoughts, and there was nothing ridiculous about that. She was a person, and she had the right to be angry or sad, she had a right to her emotions. She didn’t have to always be nice. She didn’t have to be compliant. She didn’t have to be docile.

And God knew how tired she was of his condescending tone. Of the way he explained things to her as if she was a child who didn’t know anything about the world. Of the way he felt the need to illustrate to her all the reasons why he was right and she was wrong without even truly considering what she had to say. Without even listening to her. Every time they argued, he was either talking or thinking about what he had to say next, with little to no regard towards her point of view. And when he was the one to reach out to her after a fight, it was never just “I’m sorry”, it was always “I’m sorry, but I was right”.

And she was tired of feeling crazy or hysterical every time she snapped and raised her voice at him, even though she had her reasons. Because apparently, those reasons were not enough.

And she was tired of feeling useless.

She had been trying her best to keep everything together, to make that house a home, to prevent its walls from crashing down on them, but the weight was starting to become too heavy for her shoulders alone. The worst thing was that Tommy didn’t even seem to notice. He probably thought that her only occupation was tending to her garden and choose what dress to wear for the umpteenth dinner or event, while he worked hard. Because he was the provider, the one who granted stability and wealth. What he didn’t consider was that although she didn’t have a job, she was working everyday, every hour, every minute.

She was the one who took care of him when he drank his sorrows away to the point where he could barely stand on his feet, who tended to his injuries when he got caught in fights, who washed the blood off of his clothes, both his own and other people’s. She was the one who had spent countless nights waiting up for him when he was late home because of “business”. She was the one who held him through the night when the nightmares seemed too real, and the one who whispered reassuring words in his ear when the devils got the better of him.

But that was nothing to him.

So ultimately, she found the courage to stand up for herself, and she told him that if things were to be like that between them, then they would stay husband and wife only in name, but not in fact. They would conduct separate lives in the same house, and they wouldn’t be each other’s problem anymore. Maybe it was the best thing for both of them.

She quickly wiped away her tears as she heard steps approaching. Tommy came close to her, and she felt the back of her arm slightly brushing against his. Despite her anger, she was unable to withdraw from the contact, relishing the closeness she had craved for so long. But that only lasted for a moment, because all of the feelings she had been suppressing for months came to the surface again, causing her to take a step aside.

Clearing his throat, Tommy took a look around, taking in every detail of his surroundings as if he was seeing that garden for the first time. “Your mother used to grow the same flowers, didn’t she?”

“She did.” She nodded. “And now I’m growing them. It makes me feel home.”

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but words seemed to fail him. For once, he was speechless. (Y/n) glanced at him, and she could swear by the look on his face that he was hurt.

“You are home.” He eventually said, after a few moments of hesitation.

Silence fell between them, and it was much worse than any fight they’d ever had. This time, there was nothing left to say. She was done taking steps back. She was done trying to make him understand.

“You can be so inconsiderate sometimes.” She just said, her voice almost too low to be heard. But Tommy heard it.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry means nothing if you’re not willing to change.”

She sounded stern. Bitter, even. And she refused to give him another glance. Tommy moved closer to her, until he was able to tenderly take her face in his hands and force her to look at him.

“Please, forgive me.” He whispered. “I know that I’m a fucking bastard and that I don’t deserve it. That I don’t deserve you-” his voice broke, and he had to stop talking for a few seconds. “I’ll change. I’ll be better.”

There was desperation in his voice, and a fear in his eyes she had probably never seen. But they had been there too many times. She had forgiven him again and again, only for him to break her one more time. She shook her head, bringing her hands on his wrists. “I’m tired, Tommy.”

“I can’t lose you. I need you, (Y/n).” He slightly shook her, tightening his grip on her as if she’d disappear otherwise.

His vulnerability - his rare, unfamiliar vulnerability - made her heart clench. It didn’t matter how angry she was at him, she still cared about him. A thousand fights wouldn’t be enough to change that. But she couldn’t let him hurt her again.

“Give me another chance.” He pleaded. “Just one. The last one.”

She moved his hands away from her face, taking a few steps back. “You want another chance?” She asked, a serious expression on her face.

“Yes.” He nodded, and a glimpse of hope lightened his eyes.

“Earn it.”

[goldenempyrean]

I Missed You

〚 Pairing- Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Notes - Currently working on the BeachHouse AU but I wanted to get this out first! Enjoy some sad and weepy Nat :p 〛

〚 Summary - You're off on a mission when Nat starts to feel unwell. And even with her bestfriend at her side, Nat's finding it hard to be alone when she gets sick for the first time in years. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2100 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Are you sure you’re meant to be working right now?” Clint asked casually as he strolled into the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at the woman slumped over a pile of paperwork at the table. 

Natasha looked up at him, her eyes tired and glassy. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse and cracking, “We both have some much work to do, shouldn’t you be getting your own work done instead of pestering me.”  

“God you’re crabby today, aren't you? And for your information, I’ve already got mine done. It’s easy to concentrate on it when you don’t have a head packed with snot.” He teased and smirked at the disgusted look which grossed her face. 

“You’re gross.” She sniffled thickly – he wasn’t exactly wrong though. She’d woken up feeling a little off a few days ago, there was that lingering soreness at the back of her throat that didn’t quite go away even after getting some water, but she’d put it down to being a little stressed. 

But much to her annoyance, she’d only felt worst throughout the day until she eventually woke up this morning feeling truly awful. But there wasn’t much she could do about that now. All she could do was try to focus and get her work done. 

Clint only shook his head as he began to search the kitchen cupboards for cereal, “Don’t you think you should atheist take a break?” He suggested as he started pouring multiple different kinds of cereal into one bowl. 

“I don’t need too,” She mumbled before quickly bringing her hands to her face when she sneezed loudly, groaning a little afterwards at the pain it’d caused in her throat, “I’ll live.” 

“Well, I’d be more intitled to listen to you if I weren’t terrified of what your girlfriend would do to me if they find out that I’ve let you work while sick.” Clint fake shuddered whilst simultaneously nudging the tissue box at the end of the table closer towards her, earning himself another eyeroll from her.  

But behind that sarcastic front Nat couldn’t help but feel a pang of misery, she missed you so much. Unfortunately, being an Avenger often meant having to go off on solo missions and while the two of you usually made it work, Nat couldn’t help but miss you more than usual. All she wanted was to be cuddled in your arms as you whispered sweet nothings into her hair. But alas, here she was, sick and feeling so very alone. 

Clint noticed the change in her demeanour and sighed softly, “Hey, I know it’s tough, but you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, and I’m sure your girlfriend would want that too.” He said while mentally kicking himself – he’d been so caught up in his own work that he hadn't even noticed how much Nat was struggling until it was too late. He made a mental note to check in on her more often in the future, to make sure she wasn't feeling overwhelmed or overworked. 

Natasha nodded slowly, her eyes drifting towards the tissue box. She knew he was right, but she hated feeling weak and vulnerable. “I know,” she said softly, “But I just feel so useless when I’m not doing something productive.” 

Clint walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, mentally noting the heating radiating from her bare skin, “You’re not useless, Nat. Sometimes rest and recovery is the most productive thing you can do. And trust me, Y/N would much rather have you healthy and happy than sick and miserable.” 

She sighed, knowing he was right. “I just miss them so much,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, “I haven’t been sick in years and the first time I do, they’re not even here.” 

It wasn't just the sickness that was making her feel this way. It was the fact that you weren't here with her. You were always her rock, her safe haven, and without you, she felt lost and adrift. You’d been the first person there to comfort her during the blip, the first person to stand by her after taking down the Red Room. You’d always been there. And while this definitely wasn’t the first time she’d been away from you; this was the first time it’d ever made her feel this lonely. 

Clint squeezed her shoulder gently, “I know you do. But you’ll see them soon enough, they’re meant to be home later tonight, aren’t they? I'll get Jarvis to set an alert for their arrival but for now, let’s focus on getting you feeling a bit better, yeah?” 

Natasha nodded and reached for a tissue, blowing her nose loudly. Clint chuckled, “That’s the spirit. Now, how about I make us some tea and we can sit down and go through this paperwork together?” 

However, as Clint went to turn on the kettle, he noticed the increase in her sniffles and turned around. His heart sank as he saw the silent tears running down her cheeks as Nat held her head in her hands, seemingly unable to think of anything other than you.  

Forgetting the tea, he quickly hurried over to her, sitting down and pulling her into a tight hug, his worry only increasing as he felt the small shivers running down her arms as Nat leaned began to sob against him, “I-I'm sorry,” she muttered, “I’m being ridiculous, but all I can do is think about then and that they’re not here and they could be out there hurt somehow on their mission and I wouldn’t know because I-” 

“Shh, Natty.” Clint soothed quietly, rubbing her back gently as her sobs continued, “If Y/N was ever hurt on a mission, we’d know instantly. Jarvis has their vitals always monitored. They’re okay Natasha, now I know you don’t feel well so we need to get this fever down, it’s only going to make you feel worst.” 

“There’s fever patches in the fridge...” Nat mumbled through her sniffles so quietly that Clint almost missed it entirely, “Vision made me put some in there earlier.” 

  Clint nodded, mentally thanking Vision for his wisdom. He continued to hold Nat for a little longer before slowly releasing her, swiping a handful of tissues and pressing them into her hand so she could clean up her face a little, "I'll get them for you and finish off that tea. I want you to pack this stuff away," He said, his fatherly tone seeping into his words, "No arguments this time. Pack it away, you're not working anymore. That's final." 

After receiving a small nod, Clint went to search through the fridge before finding the small packet and setting it on the side as he re-boiled the kettle to make some tea – making sure to add in a generous squirt of honey. He knew how tough it was for Natasha to admit weakness or vulnerability and seeing her break down like that made him realise just how much she was struggling. By the time he’d finished making the tea though, Nat had cleaned up the table a little, her piles of paperwork sitting neatly in one small stack whilst she sank down a little into her chair, muffling a chesty sounding cough into her elbow. 

Mentally grimacing at the sound of her rattling chest, Clint placed the tea down in front of her, "There you go," He offered a comforting smile to his partner, "hopefully that will help your throat a bit. Now I know you’re not going to like this, but do you think you’d like to go lay down for a few hours? I’ll finish up your work for you.” 

Natasha gave a weak nod, her eyes looking a little watery once again as she took a sip of her tea, "Thank you, Clint. I'm sorry for being such a mess," she murmured, her voice hoarse and strained from her coughing. 

Clint shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "You don't need to apologize for being sick, Nat. We all get like this sometimes," he reassured her, "Now go lay down, get some rest. I'll take care of everything." 

With that, Natasha slowly stood up from her chair, wobbling slightly as she did so. Clint quickly moved to steady her, keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. "Easy now," he murmured, "Don't overdo it." 

Natasha gave him a weak smile as he led her towards her bedroom, her steps slow and unsteady. Once they reached her room, Clint helped her to sit down on the bed before tucking her in with a soft blanket. "Get some rest," he said, his voice gentle, "I'll come check on you in a little bit. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you." 

On his way out of her room Clint couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in his heart as he thought about you, wherever you were, and how much Nat missed you. He knew he couldn't replace you, but he would do his best to take care of Nat in your absence. Instead he’d concentrate on getting her work done so the two of you would have nothing to worry about except each other when you finally got back. 

〘✧✧✧〙 

The sky was dark by the time you’d finally gotten home that night. The compound was quiet, most of the agents had left for the day and most people were already in bed so it was safe to say you were surprised to come into the kitchen to see Clint sitting over the table, eating pasta as he stared down at the files in front of him. 

“Hey.” You called out quietly, seemingly startling him a little. 

“Y/N!” His face lit up instantly as he got up from the table, coming over to hug you, “You’re back finally, thank god.” 

You’d be lying if you said his reaction didn’t puzzle you a little though, “Yeah, sorry the flight back took a little longer than expected, is everything alright? Oh, have you seen Nat too by the way? I texted her to tell her I was home, but I think her phones dead or something.” 

Clint pulled away from the hug, his brow furrowed with concern. "Nat's not feeling so well actually. She's got the flu I think, she’s probably sleeping still." He gestured to the files on the table. "I’ve just been doing her paperwork. She really missed you while you were away Y/N, like really missed you.” 

“I’ll go check on her then,” You sighed, hating that you weren’t here to take care of her, you knew Nat rarely got sick and whenever she did, it usually hit her hard, “Thank you though,” You said genuinely, giving Clint an appreciative smile, “Thanks for looking out for her.” 

“It's no problem. Nat’s important to me, I wasn’t going to just sit there while she suffered. She’s going to be so happy to see you.” Clint nodded, before going over to the table to pick up his bowl of pasta, “I'm gonna head to bed soon now thpugh, I’ll finish that in the morning.” 

“Goodnight Clint.” You gave him a final smile before hurrying off in the direction of your bedroom. 

As you reached your room, you made sure to quietly open the door, not wanting to startle her. But once the light flooded the room, letting you see the outline of your girlfriend, your heart sank. Nat was curled up beneath the blankets in one of your hoodies as she tightly hugged one of your favourite stuffed animals. Even in the dim light, you could see the dark red grasp of a fever clutching to her cheeks.  

Not wanting to disturb her more than necessary, you silently got changed out of your suit into some comfy thin pyjamas before gently climbing in bed next to the sleeping widow. You’d intended to not wake her up but despite your best efforts, the redhead stirred a little as you settled down into the duvet. 

“Shh, baby, It’s okay now. I’m here, okay?” You whispered quietly, as Nat sleepily shuffled up into your hold, welcoming your touch as you pulled her close against your chest. 

“I missed you.” Her raspy voice barely louder than a whisper before sleep pulled her back down into its hands. 

“I missed you too moya lyubov',” You murmured softly, “I’m here now, okay? And I'm going to look after you.” 

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @ceiestiaie @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13 @lovelyy-moonlight @juiles @lots-of-pockets

[kisskiss-slashslash]

I have a Jason request:D

Request(sorry if it’s too specific): Jason is beginning to notice that their s/o (who does witchcraft) is becoming more and more distant or busy (this also happens a couple days before his birthday) then on the day of his birthday his s/o comes up to him practically jumping up and down from happiness and tells him they have a big present for him. Turns out his s/o made a spell where his mothers ghost is visible for 24 hours but she cannot touch anything and is only visible for him and his s/o to see:)

The only draw back is that after the 24 hours his s/o is SUPER tired and can’t even walk for a couple of weeks bc it took a lot out of them

A happy ending for him and his s/o<3

Ty and have a great day<3

Oooo I love this one.

A very special birthday surprise

The time around his birthday is hard enough for Jason as it is. But now you have been rather distant for days now, always coming up with excuses when he tries to spend time with you. But you also seem so damn *happy* all of the time. His mind keeps coming up with terrible scenarios, of you planning to leave him or seeing someone else, or…

What would he do then? No matter how enraged he would be, he couldn’t imagine ever hurting you. Could he just let you go?

His birthday is just 24 hours away. Maybe you just wanted to wait until after that to leave, so you wouldn’t make the day that keeps bringing back his worst memories even worse for him. Now during these 24 hours, he barely sees you. You are hiding in your little witchey corner, and he hears you softly mumbling to yourself, though it almost sounds like you are holding an actual conversation with someone who is responding to you.

Jason stares at the old clock you brought in from one of the cabins. Just fiften more seconds to midnight.

Had he done anything to deserve you ignoring him like this? The past years, you spent almost his entire birthday snuggled up to him, trying to drown out the painful memories with your love and affection.

Ten seconds.

Was it the last group of campers? Has he been too brutal to them, and scared you off?

Five seconds.

Either way, learning to live without you again would be heartbreaking. Just another scar in his psyche.

One second. And exactly on the stroke of midnight, the curtain sectioning your witching-corner off from the rest of your shack parts and you step out.

“Happy Birthday, Jason”, you say with a smile.

But Jason barely notices you. Because next to you stands the semi-transparent form of his mother, smiling at him with tears in her eyes.

You sheepishly scratch the back of your neck. “I figured you might wanna spend your birthday with your mom again, so I gathered everything I needed to make her spirit visible for you, at least for the duration of your birthday. I wanted it to be a surprise and it needed a lot of preparation, that’s why I was so distant from you lately, so… Happy Birthday.”

Within a split second you find yourself side to side with the icy presence of Pamela, pressed against Jason’s broad chest. His arms go right through her body, but she is acting like she is getting hugged anyway.

“Oh Jason”, Pamela says in the hollow voice typical for ghosts. “My special… special boy. I’m so sorry… For everything you had to go through.”

Jason squeezes both of you even tighter for a second, hot tears dripping from underneath his mask.

“I… uh…”, you start, despite the tight hug making speaking a bit difficult. “I also got us some cake and soda.” You free your arms and cub his cheeks with your hands. “So what do you say we celebrate your birthday properly this year?”

[roseofdarknessblog]

Everything Will Be Okay (Porco Galliard x Reader)

Word count: 3 285

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

TW: mentions of anxiety, depression, self-harm, suicide, swearing 

Everything Will Be Okay

„Want me to pick you up from school after work?“

„No need... I stayed home. Wasn’t feeling good.“

„Really? You promised me you would go today. Are you trying to get yourself in trouble?“

„Porco, please...“

„I’m being serious. You haven’t been to school for almost two weeks now. I know uni is different from high school, but still. You’re never going to get that degree if you keep on behaving like this.“

You put your phone down with teary eyes and pulled the blanket over your head. He was angry with you. Again. Just like the last couple of days. Most of them were spent arguing or in painful silence. It really hurt – the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t able to understand that you were getting bad again.

Severe anxiety and underlying depressive episodes were nothing new to you. They troubled you for most parts of your life and made almost everything unnecessarily hard and complicated. School, part-time jobs, and even social life. Making new friends was a nightmare. But dating was something even worst. On most days you were convinced that nobody would ever love you.

Why would they?

You were a total mess, your life had no real meaning and if you disappeared, probably nobody would even notice. Or care.

Well... at least that’s what your darkest thoughts wanted you to believe.

But then you met Porco Galliard. The two of you accidentally bumped into each other at a bookstore. You were carrying a huge pile of books and couldn’t see the boy walking towards you. And since he was occupied by the phone in his hand, he didn’t see you, either. Let’s just say that he wasn’t very happy when several books fell on his feet and even knocked the phone out of his hand.

You never felt more embarrassed in your entire life. Quickly apologizing you picked up your books and tried to leave the angrily cursing and hissing boy. But the stack was really heavy and you almost tripped over one of the rugs the bookstore floor was full of. Porco caught you just in time and helped you make it to the cash register safely by carrying the books for you. You apologized to him once more, thanked him, and did something you never dared to do before – you invited the boy for a coffee at the next-door caffé shop.

To this day you didn’t exactly know why you did it. But it felt right at that moment. Even more when he left you his number after saying goodbye to each other. And so after many more small cute dates and even more late-night calls and texts, the two of you became a couple.

With him, everything felt so natural and easy. You felt loved and appreciated. But most important... you felt safe. Safer than ever before.

„What’s going on? You’ve been acting really strange since we moved in together last week.“

„I don’t wanna talk about it through texts.“

„I get it, but you barely talk to me when I get home from work. It’s always Porco I’m tired, I’m just not in the mood, my head hurts... and stuff like that.“

He was right. You were avoiding him, which was a good starter for almost every argument the two of you had in the last couple of days. Porco was super excited for you to move in with him and even though you wanted to live with your boyfriend and spend as much time with him as possible, it was a huge change in your life.

And you were never good with those.

Starting a new school or work, going to some important place you have never been to before... it all triggered your anxiety and made every day a living hell. There were times when even your meds couldn’t help you feel better. You just had to wait it out, try to calm yourself, and simply push through.

„Everything's fine, I just... need some time to adjust.“

„Was moving really that bad? If you don’t want to live with me you can just say it, no need to make a big fuss around it. It just makes us both miserable.“

„No no no... I just...“

Your life kinda started to fall apart weeks before that. University was stressing you out on daily basis, you got fired from your job and had some nasty arguments with your parents. Porco became the only light in your daily life. The only thing that kept you going and distracted you from your darkest thoughts.

Until the day you saw him become frustrated with your mood swings, lack of energy, and desire to communicate properly. You cried yourself to sleep that night because you loved the boy so much and never wanted to hurt him in any way. He was always so kind and loving towards you, so how could you hurt him with your horrible behavior like that?

„I love you, Porco. And I’m so sorry.“

With that, you turned your phone off and hid it under the pillow.

You could feel sheer panic rising in your chest, it made your heart race and your hands shake. It took over your logical thinking and started to whisper horrible things to you. And even though you tried not to listen and give in, it was getting harder every single day.

You were so tired of everything always going wrong.

Tired of ruining your life over and over again.

Tired of being scared all the time.

Tired of being a burden to everyone.

Tired of trying.

You were just so tired of being yourself.

Porco was usually excited to leave his workplace behind and head home or somewhere else with you. But today he was dreading coming back to his apartment. He knew that behind closed doors awaited another stupid and pointless argument. It made him sad and disappointed – in himself, not you. He felt frustrated because you were shying away from him and didn't accept the help he was so desperately trying to offer.

Well... maybe it was because of his temper. He always was kind of impulsive and pretty stubborn. It was usually him, who started raising his voice and left halfway through the argument. But every time he promised himself that next time it would be different. He really tried to do his best each day because he loved you like no one else in his life. You meant the world to him and he would do anything for you. Anything.

„I fucked up.“

He texted his older brother as soon as he got to his car, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a second. Work has been crazy for the past few weeks. He was constantly stressed and tired, which made him even more nervous and agitated. But he had to keep up with his boss’s commands if he wanted the promotion which was at stake.

„Well, that’s nothing groundbreaking. I mean, you do that pretty often, baby brother.“

„Fuck you, Marcel.“

„Yeah, I love you too. So... tell me, what’s the problem? What did you do this time?“

„We’ve been arguing since she moved in and it’s only gettin' worse. I’m really starting to worry about her. Like... I know something is going on, but she just won’t tell me anything and keeps acting weird, kinda distant and cold.“

„Is she taking her meds properly? You know that she struggles with that sometimes, mostly when she’s feeling the worst.“

„She is, I make sure of it every morning before I leave for work.“

Porco knew for a long time now that you had serious mental issues. At first, he got a little scared but you telling him everything also made him really emotional. You trusted him enough to talk about something so personal. That day he went home and spent long hours on the internet reading everything he could about anxiety and depression – best coping methods, most effective treatment options, and such. He wanted to be prepared for every occasion you may need his help.

„I’ve been a dick to her lately, wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to dump my stupid ass. I never deserved her anyway.“

„Okay, stop right there! Putting yourself down won’t fix anything. You both need to sit down and talk your way through it like always. She loves you, I’m sure about that.“

„I love her too.“

„Yeah, I know. You’ve been head over heels for her from day one, wouldn’t talk about anything else.“

„Her phone has been off for the last hour or so. I’m kinda scared to go back home, don’t wanna argue again.“

„Get your ass to your car and go, you idiot! She needs you, so stop being a crybaby and be there for her. I bet she can’t wait for you, it’s been a long day. Try talking for a bit and if it doesn’t work, just spend time with her. Hug her, kiss her, reassure her that everything will be okay again. I don’t know... you know what works best in these kinds of situations for her.“

Marcel was right. As always. But Porco would never admit that out loud.

He got home as soon as he could. Speeding half of the way, not putting on any music which was unusual for Porco. A strong unpleasant feeling took over him. Why would you send him that last text and immediately turn your phone off? And why was he such an idiot and didn’t run home right away? Screw his boss and the shitload of work, you were far more important.

„Babe? I’m home!“ he shouted as soon as he unlocked the door to his apartment. It was nothing fancy, but just enough to feel comfortable, cozy, and safe. Enough to start his life with you by his side.

All the lights were out and the apartment was flooded with dead silence. That made chills run down his spine. Did you pack your stuff and went back to your parents? Was he really that horrible that you finally had enough of him?

„I’m sorry about earlier,“ he said a little hesitantly and made his way to the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, but no light was coming from the room. The floorboards softly creaked under his feet as he entered, made his way to the bed, and turned on the little lamp on his nightstand.

And there you were. Curled up under your favorite fuzzy blanket and hugging a plush lion he won for you at a festival you visited for your second date. A loving smile made its way to Porco’s lips as he leaned down and kissed your cheek softly, careful not to wake you up.

But that smile was gone in the same instant his eyes discovered what was laying on the bed next to you. A bright yellow makeup bag you used for keeping all your meds in one place. Anxiety and depression medications, some sleeping pills, and pain relievers you always had on hand because you got bad headaches pretty often.

„Shit, shit, shit... NO!“ he cursed loudly and turned you over to your back. „What the hell did you do?! Why? Why would you...“ His voice broke as tears started to collect in his eyes. Porco never felt more scared, never in his twenty-one years on this planet. His hands were shaking as he brushed back a few strands of hair from your face.

You looked so beautiful.

So peaceful.

So...

You stirred a little when a familiar voice interrupted your sleep. The first thing you saw as you opened your eyes was your boyfriend. He was finally home after another long day. Porco became such a workaholic that it made you worried sometimes. He wanted that promotion really badly, but it was slowly taking a toll on him.

„Porco?“ you said his name still half asleep and reached for his hand. The boy sitting next to you jumped a little, his eyes wide and face pale like he just saw a ghost. „What is it? You okay?“

„ME!“ he screamed at you, reaching to the other side of the bed and grabbing the pills you accidentally left there earlier. You went to get some water and when you came back, tears rolling down your cheeks, you just collapsed back under the blanket and didn’t care about putting the meds away. „How many did you take?! Do we need to go to the ER? Should I drive or call an ambulance?“

„What? No... Porco, listen...“ You quickly sat up and grabbed both of his hands, trying to look him in the eyes. Seeing them full of tears made your heart hurt. „Calm down, love. I’m fine, really. Nothing happened, I’m okay.“

„But... but...“ he stuttered looking confused and still scared to death.

„I only took one extra pill for my anxiety and one for sleeping. I felt like shit, pretty bad anxiety attacks kept coming and going the whole day. I just... I wanted to sleep it off, and you know I can’t fall asleep without pills when I’m like this.“

You hated taking all your meds, but they were very important. And you always reminded yourself that they are only temporary, with the right kind of therapy there was a big chance of making a full recovery. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually.

„That’s why I turned my phone off,“ you added, leaning closer to him, and kissing his cheek. „And kinda because I was angry with you. But I didn’t want to hurt myself, I promise.“

It sometimes occurred to you, of course, it did. Depression was a nasty opponent and often made you question if it was really worth keeping on going. But there was so much to live for and you didn’t want to miss out on those things.

You never wanted to harm yourself... not really. All you wanted was to just silence the pain and break the numbness that sometimes took over your life.

„I really thought...“ whispered Porco in a broken tone and lowered his face into his palms.

„Come here.“ You carefully pulled him into a tight hug, resting your head on top of his. His whole body was still shaking slightly, heart pounding wildly in his chest. „I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna scare you like this.“ Your lips gently pressed a small kiss to his forehead when he lifted his head a little to look at you. „I’m really sorry, Porco.“

He shook his head, grabbed your face, and kissed you on the lips. Fear was mixing with love and relief as his lips parted and he kissed you even more intensely. More hungrily. More lovingly.

„I was horrible to you recently. My job is making me really stressed and I took it out on you like an idiot. As if I didn’t know you already had it pretty hard. With school, your parents, and moving in together.“

„Well, I wasn’t making it any easier for us.“

When your mental health got out of control, you just shut down and pushed everyone away. Sometimes even Porco who was desperately trying to get to you and help. He was capable of bringing you back from the darkest corners of your mind, but only when you let him. If not, there was nothing he could do. Just wait for you to fight back on your own.

„A lot of things happened recently and I got overwhelmed by everything. You know I’m not good with big changes, even if they are good ones.“

He suggesting you to come live with him was something spectacular. You couldn’t wait to fall asleep every night next to him and wake up the same way – in his loving embrace while he whispered how much he loved you. You wanted to create your own little home with him, and do all the little daily tasks around your shared place.

Porco liked to cook in his free time, so you were pretty excited about getting some delicious meals, and eating them together by candlelight and with his favorite music playing in the background. You wanted to share everything with him, every little detail of your daily life.

But life wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. It wasn’t like that most of the time, but you still wanted nothing more, than for you two to be happy. To live peacefully and create a future you both would feel excited about.

„I love you,“ you said kissing his lips again. „I love you so much, Porco.“ He was still in shock, you could feel it as his tensed body was leaning against yours. Did you ever see him this scared? About anything? No, definitely not. He wasn’t that type, playing it cool and unbothered was mostly what he went with. „Please, just relax. I’m fine, everything is okay. You can count over my pills if you want to, hardly any of them are missing.“

„No, I believe you... I’m just... shit I really thought it was over and that it was my fault. I was horrible to you when you needed me. But I’m so incredibly sorry, you know I love you more than anything. Nothing should be more important than you and your needs.“

You carefully wiped tears away from his cheeks, lightly kissing the tip of his nose. He hated that but never said anything because his adorable frown always made you smile a little. „Porco, if anything ever happens, it will never be your fault. Understand? Never. Most days it’s you who keeps me going, who keeps me motivated to try over and over again. I want to get better for myself but also for you. For us. For our future together.“

He nodded slightly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he kissed you on the shoulder, then on your neck and chin. Porco never was a big fan of physical contact... until the two of you met and he got comfortable around you. Since then he loved holding hands, hugging, and cuddling up to you in bed. He always wanted to feel you close to him, because your presence was the most comforting thing for him. Especially after a long day at work.

„I’m so tired,“ Porco muttered against your neck, leaning deeper into your embrace.

„It’s fine, we can sleep for a bit and have dinner later,“ you said and made yourself comfortable again, pulling Porco into the sheets with you. He lay on his back, inviting you to rest your head on his broad chest, so he can wrap his arms around you protectively.

„Are you feeling better now? Did the meds help?“ he asked quietly, playing with a few strands of your hair. „Or can I help somehow?“

„Just hold me for a while.“

Were you really feeling better? No, not really. Especially not after you scared your boyfriend like that. You were angry with yourself, how could you act so stupid and careless? But it was better to keep quiet and melt into his embrace. Every bad thought will pass... you knew that. They weren’t real and they didn’t have the power to hurt you. Not when Porco was there.

Love wasn’t some magical remedy for your messed up thoughts, heavy heart, and hurtful soul, but it really did help. Simply just laying there, listening to Porco’s once again calmly beating heart and playing with the buttons on his shirt he hated wearing to work.

You felt at ease like you could finally breathe a little better again.

Everything will be okay. 

Everything.

[mintmatcha]

Hi Mint! If your event is still open I'd like to submit

Aizawa in "The Stars Die Out, In the Blaze of the Sun"

If not. Hope your doing ok. Hope this month treats you gently 🖤

Hello SURPRISE i'm doing fake fics again!

i'm sorry this is so, so, so late! I’ve been touching it on and off. idk why i decided this needed to be the title to an intense angst work, but! I did. oh well-- it's my brand

The Stars Die Out, In the Blaze of the Sun: 50k words, heavy angst, hurt comfort, happy ending.

CW: discussions of suicide, self harm, depression, blood.

Synopsis:

Ten years after the worst day of your life, you run into the man who saved you when you needed it most.

.

Ten years ago.

The weather has settled into your joints, aching and creaking as you open and close your fist to return the circulation to your fingertips. Up here, the air is thin and the dawn has just barely broken, only a touch of grey noticeable on the city skyline. From far, far below, you can see the early morning traffic on the bridge has been halted by police cars and their oscillating lights, blocking the space right below you. Some people are honking, annoyed by the delay.

When the wind blows, there's enough force to hunch you forward, threatening to send you toppling forward into the river below, so you cling on to the rusted metal so hard your fingernails crack. It’s so cold that the tears on your cheeks burn as they fall, clinging on to your cheeks until they are ready to fall.

You don't want to fall until you're ready either.

It was supposed to be so easy. It’s just one step forward, just a foot forward and then gravity takes care of everything else, but now you’re here, sitting above your final moments.

This moment was supposed to come with some amount of profoundness, wasn't it? Some sort of change of heart or big revelation that life is good or, or... or something else that would make the world flip on its axis.

But the world stays right-side up.

The ache doesn't go away.

It alarms you how you don't even have to steel yourself, extending one leg as if to measure the distance. It's far enough the inky black river below looks like asphalt,

“Don’t.” A voice catches your attention.

A few feet to the left sits someone else- a hero. He’s relatively young, with thick black hair, a full spattering of stubble across his jaw, and tired, tired eyes. He’s perched delicately, coiled up like a cat- relaxed, yet primed to spring into action. You're not sure how you missed him climbing all the way up here. Probably the same way everyone else missed you climbing the bridge's repair structure earlier.

You quickly wipe away tears and snot from your cheeks, coughing and sputtering as you try to collect yourself. There’s so much to say, but the only think you can manage is: “I’m sorry.”

The man doesn’t respond, watching you carefully. He even blinks with a feline nature, overly slow and careful, as if he's afraid to miss something.

He is, you think, He's afraid to blink and you'll be halfway to nowhere.

“What are you sorry for?”

“The traffic, mostly.” You choke out a laugh at yourself, but it dissolves into a sob in your throat. Blood, overly warm, has begun welling up from the broken beds of your fingernails, but the pain hasn’t hit yet; it’s overshadowed by how hollow your chest has become, how the blankness has begun to rot within you and break. “Those people are so mad I haven’t died yet, huh?”

“Don’t worry about that,” the man reassures, “They can wait while we get you down.”

The wind rips through you again. That doesn’t make you feel better. You can see the police beginning to pace, hands on their hips in aggravation.

You can't even die right.

"Don't look down there," the man says, "What’s your name?”

You tell him. He nods wistfully, like it means something, even though it doesn’t. It’s something he’ll forget tomorrow, when the sun comes up again and life continues without you.

"My name's Shouta." The stranger repeats your name back like he's testing it. “Why don’t you come down with me?”

You shake your head.

"Everyone wants you to come down safely."

"No, they don't." you wipe your nose on your sleeve, coughing on the snot that has built in your throat. You didn't realize how you body was racked with sobs into now; you had blamed the quivering on the freezing temperatures, but it's from how every muscle in your body is gripped as tight as it'll go, aching and begging for release. "They just want this over."

With the toe of one sneaker, you push down on the back of your other shoe, inching in off until it hangs from your toe. Then, with equal amount of caution, you flex your foot, letting dangle and dangle

then drop,

drop,

drop,

drop

until you can't make out where the breeze has pushed it, just a speck against it all. The rising dawn reveals tiny crested waves in the river, foaming blips of sickly yellow.

"Hey." He says it softly the first time, but as you slip off your other shoe he grows more firm. "Hey now."

The man has slipped closer, now just barely an arm's distance from you. "Stop that. You're going to need those."

When he extends an arm, you flinch back hard enough that your hands slips against the metal and you have to scramble to stay put.

He reels back, blinking much too quickly to be natural, then forces himself to relax. You can see how he thinks, chewing on his lip as he tries to come up with the correct thing to say.

You wonder if proheroes get training in this. You doubt it.

"You're so young," he breathes, breath curling into strange shapes that immediately get blown away, "How old are you?"

It takes a moment to remember. Young: you haven't felt young since high school, before the weight of the world hit your shoulders.

"Twenty-three." The number sounds small now.

"Me too," The man says, "If I reach for you, are you going to jump?"

"I-" You want to. You will. "I don't know."

He settles back slightly, hands up in earnest surrender. "I'll stay here then."

Honks carry over the ambient wind, flecks of nothing in the distance. Both of you sit, watching the horizon with unfocused eyes, everything familiar to you blurred and dim through tears.

He looks older than you. His skin has already begun to crease between his eyebrows into a permanent furrow, matching the sullen frown lines on the corners of his lips. Life must be hard for him too, you think.

"Shouta," you ask after a very long while, voice raw and cracked, "Do you ever want to die?"

His voice barely carries over to you, despite him being so close. You suspect he's going to grab on to you soon and wrestle you to the ground. He's going to hurt you the second your guard is down, just like every other man you've let get too close-

Instead, he sits there, quiet.

"I do."

You look down and the world spins. "Why haven't you?"

"I don't know." He exhales heavily, "I really don't."

[cedarboughs]

Hiking Journal: Banff NP,

Fossil Mountain Loop, Part I, August 11

A busy week at work ended badly the night before this trip with a needless panic attack. That combined with a sleepless night and being back in Lake Louise, site of my Worst Birthday closing in on one year past, meant that I wasn’t feeling my best, mentally speaking, as we set out along the ski-out road from the shuttered Temple Day Lodge. It didn’t help that the road is a steep dusty climb and the morning was hot. But I was happy to be back among conifers. Some cool things happened even in the relatively short (7.5 km) all this first day. I spied a black bear in the first km, scampering off into the bush. We passed a paddock where some horses and mules lazed in front of a view to Mt Temple, a fair reminder that among the disaster of last late summer, I did stand on that peak for the first time.

I almost got hit by a speeding Parks truck driven by the surly ranger who checked our permits.

Past the ski hill the trail gets more pleasant. Hidden Lake Campground is just by the Halfway Hut. It’s not Halfway to Skoki Lodge from the mountains parking, but from the criminally defunct train station. So it’s more like a third of the way today.

Pitched camp before lunch and spent a while trenching around the tents with an ice auger or maybe a signpost that was lying around camp. The creek running by camp is lovely.

For the afternoon we hiked the 1.3 km up to Hidden Lake itself. One group and then another returning told that two grizzlies were digging calmly near the lake. We approached cautiously, speaking loudly, until we could see the lake itself below the moraine and the two bears were visible shuffling about.

Do you want to see them? Do you want to see the beautiful photo I took of this amazing animal, with my zoomless cell phone?

There he is. Mighty mistaya. Spectacular. I promise the blob is not a rock. As soon as we could see them we retreated. 3 bears in one day!

Rigged a tarp over the picnic table just in time to make dinner and tea sheltered from the hailstorm that blew over the headwall, though not from the cold wind that blew it over. After dinner then I was still tired and now chilled too. Crawled into a warm sleeping bag at the late late hour of 6:30 pm and barely stayed awake long enough to write the entry in my little notebook that I’m now transcribing.

[frostmoths]

Might regret posting this. cw alcohol, suicide ideation

Let me preface by saying I wrote this, and a much more emo version before, over the course of a week, and I’m feeling a little better now. It comes and goes. It's everything I’ve been handling since late May, and I want to open up about it.

I have extreme depression and recent happenings have tipped the scale to make me nearly non-functional. I started therapy and medication a year ago because of the world’s most passive-aggressive rejection. I’m way worse now. I’m on my third med and if what happened Sunday (I was very ill) was a side effect, I’m going to have to quit it too. I don’t believe in antidepressants as a cure-all and I’ve only been conceding because I’m tired of wanting to lay down and die. Not kms necessarily, just stop hurting. Though I’ve got like 10 bottles of various prescription insomnia meds which don’t do any good on their own, so maybe if I take them all at once

One weeknight in early June I tried to drink myself to passing out and forgetting what broke my heart. Instead I threw up and went to work the next day hung over. And it was an embarrassingly small amount to drink. Just that it was cheap and I had it on an empty stomach because I was too enraged to make dinner. I haven’t had alcohol since. I dumped out what was left. 

My idiot father, who has dementia, has taken to dragging his guns around everywhere because he’s paranoid they’ll be stolen, and gets angry if he's confronted about it. I’ve alerted several authorities but unless my mother complies, nothing will be done. She won’t because she’s also insane. In May I had a full nervous breakdown expecting me or my cats to get murdered. It was probably the breaking point for my short-lived girlfriend dumping me two days later. Once again my shitty family has ruined any chance of happiness for me. 

When I saw a pistol on his chairside table the other day, instead of blind panic, I felt nothing. I kind of hoped it was loaded and he’d do it, so everything would stop.

My new house is a shitshow and I got ripped off. I have approximately 6 hours a week to work on it and zero help so I’m still not moved in. At this point I hope to sell it after a couple of years of improvements (if I can afford them), get my money back, then maybe flee this godforsaken country and go live in the mountains in. Fucking Iceland. idk. My mother promised assistance for certain things and took it back because that’s what she does. I’m about ready to cut her out of my life.

I can barely eat without getting sick in one way or another. I no longer enjoy things like cooking, EDM, watching anime, and, worst of all, writing. Last month I started poking at [redacted]’s outline as a way to keep my head above water, only to realize it’s way more vague than I remember and that some parts make no damn sense. This is a thing I’ve been bragging about for 3 years as proof that I know what I’m doing, so I feel like a fool. I deleted everything I ever posted about it on my sideblog. I’m tempted to wipe what’s started off AO3. Tempted to delete the entire account tbh, too many memories which are too raw right now. I’m not a skilled writer and the pros (plural) were right to call me out on it last year. And this has been the one thing about myself I was confident in my entire life, that I was banking on making a career now that I finally, finally have my own house with peace and quiet, and now I can see I was fucking delusional. I give up.

My therapist says I have trauma and that I never healed from what happened in 2020 (not Covid-related). I can only see her every 5-6 weeks because she’s that booked. She said she argued with administration because she can't focus on her current patients but they keep throwing new ones at her. Kind of like my job. Everyone everywhere is overworked.

To cope I’ve been indulging in something that’s frowned upon — not a substance abuse thing, but an ethical thing? I guess? Among creatives. I don’t care because it helps me. My psych and my therapist both told me to seek supplemental therapy in between appointments. I think they had something more like b*tterh*lp in mind, but that’s a proven pyramid scheme so lol no thanks. Psychology books and imaginary friends it is.

My employer is closed today and tomorrow for the holiday, and I’m on vacation next week. Much-needed extended time off for me. If I don’t make headway on the house then I don’t know what. I didn’t want to spend my one week off a year moving in the middle of fucking summer during the worst heat on record. At one point I had much more pleasant plans but that’s no longer happening and I can’t think about it. I can’t, but I still do. 

I wanted this house to be my success story. Having worked hard, she rescued herself, escaped her toxic family with her fur sons and flourished creatively, healthfully, and romantically. All was well. The reality is that I was likely conned as a first-time single homebuyer and I'm so mentally ill now that I may not be able to meet the demands of maintaining a 70 year old house with nonworking appliances I can't afford to replace, let alone my own well-being. How did I get myself into this. 

There's one last-ditch effort I can make to pull myself through, but not properly until I move. It sounds like a lame excuse and it probably is, but whatever. Better later than never. However, I tried this last fall, went too hard too fast and burned out after 4 months. I threw a lot of money away doing it. I keep hearing push yourself, go intense, you'll never get there with baby steps but I also think you have to take baby steps if you're starting from zero because otherwise you'll burn out? I'm so tired of conflicting information everywhere. One tells me one thing, another says that's wrong. I can't trust anyone. 

There are a couple of other things I’m looking forward to trying more than exercise. Which are probably less healthy for me. Who is going to stop me. hashtag yolo

I keep telling myself it won’t be this way forever. Just like summer. It comes around once a year, it feels like death, and then there’s relief. But it’ll happen again and again. Just like summer. You have to adapt.

I'm glad pride month is over. I don't know what I'm supposed to be so proud of.

[detroit-grand-prix]

Wildest Dreams Chapter 25 - Holy Ground, Part 1

Chapter summary: Bee has been pushing all season towards one goal - doing well at her first-ever home Grand Prix in Austin, Texas, but she feels the pressure building, and a lot of things are changing.

Content warning: N/A

Chapter word count: 6,009

Author's Notes: This is the beginning of the end of the main story arc. This chapter had to be split into two parts because it was so long. I started planning this story in May and finished it in August, and I had a ton of fun writing it out. I'd grown attached to it to the point where I am still writing little one-off chapters and side stories for it. Anyway, not too many notes this chapter, other than the elements from Bee's custom helmet. The Spirit of Detroit statue, which is one of my favorite landmarks in Detroit. The We Can Do It! poster, which you will definitely be familiar with if you're from the US. Maybe even if you're not, it's a pretty iconic image by now. I also referenced it in one of the Monza chapters, in one of the fake tweets. Super Bee logo - The Super Bee was a muscle car produced by Dodge for a few years in the 60's and 70's, and then they brought the model name back for a trim package for the Dodge Charger in the late 2000's. I think the emblem is cute, but I don't know if Bee would have to get permission to use the emblem on her helmet or not, but this is fanfiction, so I can do what I want (within reason).

Grove, Oxfordshire, England, United Kingdom Mid-September 2021

The season was just over halfway through, and Bee was starting to feel the pressure of meeting her goal of getting on the podium. She’d been so close. God, so close. She finished as high as fifth. It was in Monza, of course, which she thought was her best chance, and it would have worked, and it would have been second if she hadn’t screwed up timing on the safety car after the crash that took Lewis and Max out of the race. She and George tried to double-stack to change tires, but she was a few seconds too late to come out into the pits in second and couldn’t manage to make up the places she’d lost. 

The worst part was it wasn’t her crew’s fault - she was concentrating so hard on making a good exit that she somehow missed the green light from the pit. She’d never seen anyone do that, let alone her. She felt awful.

She felt like she’d blown the opportunity with the two main podium contenders out. The frustration rattled her harder than she expected it to.

At least George had managed to secure a podium before that, in Belgium. There was barely a race run, but George put on a spectacular qualifying in the rain, qualifying in P2. They ended up only racing for two full laps, and the top 10 finishers were only awarded half points, but it was Williams’ first podium since 2012. On the bright side, Williams was an astounding sixth in the constructor’s championship now. It was their highest placement in years, and meant hundreds of millions in prize money for the team. The year before Bee joined, they weren’t even able to score a single point, now they were absolutely a midfield team.

It was a bittersweet occasion, though, because three days before, George had signed with Mercedes for the 2022 season. It was announced a week later, but Toto had told Bee already, because they were starting discussions for her contact for the next year as well.

“I’m really happy for him.” She told Toto. “He absolutely deserves it, but… I’m a little selfish and will miss being on a team with him.”

“Well, in a way, you are still on a team with him - that is what I told him when he had his incident with Valtteri earlier this year. You’re still a Mercedes driver.”

“I know, but it's not going to be quite the same, but I’m more excited for him than I am sad for me, trust me.”

As far as her contract with Williams, Bee opted to only seek another one-year agreement. She was starting to feel like her career had an expiration date that was sooner than most drivers, and she wasn’t sure how she would get along with the incoming team principal, who was Williams’ current CEO, Jost Capito. 

She hadn’t actually worked with him very much, not yet. He seemed like an amenable guy. He was German, and had come from the world of rally car racing. The person that was originally tapped to be Claire’s replacement had backed out, so Jost decided to absorb his role and be CEO and Team Principal instead of hiring someone else. At least he was going to be hands-on.

The only alternative that Bee was willing to confront was if Lewis won his 8th WDC at the end of the season, surpassed Schumacher’s record, and retired. The sport would be bereft without Lewis, of course, but Bee would certainly be in consideration for his spot. Not that she could ever think to replace Lewis Hamilton or even start to fill his shoes, but an open seat at Mercedes would be an open seat at Mercedes.

Some drivers would take a seat for any team that would have them - they just want to race, and they don’t care who’s name is on the car. Bee wasn’t one of them. She only wanted to stay in the sport if she could represent Mercedes. She knew she wouldn’t be happy elsewhere. 

She had a session with Natalie after Monza. Emilia suggested it - she’d noticed that Bee was on edge after that weekend, and it had apparently been a while since she’d had a check-in with her therapist. 

“You know that your performance is as much mental as it is physical, and I know you’re not at your best right now. It couldn’t hurt, at least before we leave for Sochi.” Emilia said gently. They’d just had a training session, but Bee had almost gone overboard trying to work out her frustration. Emilia only had her stop because she was afraid of Bee injuring herself.

“Okay, you’re right.” She said, trying to catch her breath. “I’ll call her later.”

“I just… I can’t believe I fucked up like that.” Bee said to Natalie on FaceTime. “I was concentrating so hard on trying to get away from the pit as fast as possible - like, how hard is it to focus for literally three seconds? But I looked away for a fraction of a second and it was already too late.” 

“That’s tough. I know in F1 those little margins matter, but… if I remember, you got 5th in that race, right? Isn’t that still one of your best results?” 

“Actually it is my best result in Formula 1. But I’m mad because if I hadn’t lost focus, I would’ve come out in the pit in 2nd place. And my goal this season is to get on the podium. And it was Monza! If I was going to get on the podium anywhere, Monza would be ideal - and Lewis and Max crashed each other out, so it seemed perfect. I mean, I don’t know how long I have left in this sport, and I don’t want to leave without feeling like I haven’t accomplished anything.” Bee said.

“Ah, okay, that’s something. What makes you say that you haven’t accomplished anything? As far as I know, you’ve accomplished quite a lot. You’re the first woman in a long time to make points finishes, first American woman to race in F1 - I think that’s -”

Bee interrupted her. “I mean, yeah. Okay. That’s all fine and well, but if I weren’t a woman, I would be having an incredibly mediocre career so far, but because I am, everything I’ve done is groundbreaking.” She was getting annoyed. She felt a surge of frustration creeping up the back of her skull, like a series of pinpricks.

“Would you, though? I don’t think anyone other than, say, Lewis and Max was any good in their first few seasons. You even outscored your own teammate - you managed a point in your first season, and he didn’t, and he’s considered a potential world champion.” 

“I know, but the car he had to try to compete in was way worse than the one I got in my first season.”

“I still think you’re underestimating yourself. But I’m also hearing a few things here. Number one is that you don’t to be remembered just because you’re a woman, which I think is very fair, but in a sport like this, that is a significant barrier to overcome, and I think it has required a lot more than people realize. Think about it this way - do you think anybody would know who Max Verstappen is if he was a woman?” Natalie said.

“Probably not.” Bee conceded.

“Right, because he didn’t have the kind of hurdle you did to get into this sport in the first place. And you think Susie is a good racing driver, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” Bee said, like it was a foregone conclusion. “I’ve seen her lap times, her telemetry data, her onboards, she definitely knew what she was doing. If she was racing now, she’d be better than almost a quarter of the grid.”

“Right. Of course. But Bee, even she couldn’t surmount the walls you have. I grant you, she has helped you a lot in your career, so she boosted you over that wall. Plus, I think timing was more on your side than it was hers, but I’m just saying - you’ve overcome a lot of things that not everyone would be able to, and I think that’s what makes your career so far exceptional.” 

Natalie sounded absolutely solid in her conviction, to the point where Bee forgot she was her therapist for a moment.

“The season is not over yet, and you’ve come within striking distance of a podium. So, you made a mistake. Every driver has. Some people make even bigger mistakes - at least all you lost was a split-second of a pit exit. Do you remember what happened when Lewis forgot to remove that... brake… magic… thing? I don’t know what it was. But, in Baku this year? He didn’t even finish in the points. Some drivers have even made mistakes that have destroyed their entire car. A few seconds on a pit exit seems like nothing in comparison, right?” 

Bee laughed. “Now you actually sound like a sports analyst. But, okay. I get your point. You’re right. The season’s not over.”

“Is there another race you’d want to aim for the podium for? Surely Monza wasn’t -”

“Austin. The US Grand Prix. How amazing would that be? To be the first woman on an F1 podium, as an American driver, in America? I’ve always wanted to… but we didn’t race there last year, and F2 never raced there.” Bee was resolute. 

“That sounds like a good plan. It’s a home race for you, it might be easier to get a good result with a home crowd.” Natalie said, thoughtfully. “I know in other sport, home-court advantage really can swing things. I’m not sure how it affects you drivers, though.”

“I think it does make a difference, honestly.” Bee said. “I think that’s why Lewis always manages to do so well in Silverstone, truthfully. And also speaking of Austin… This was a long time ago, but do you remember me telling you about that woman, on the airplane? It was way back in 2016, I think. The one who said she was my first fan? That was on my way back from the US. I always think about that. I think that was one of the first times I realized that I was on the right track.”

“Oh, I do remember you telling me about that. You should see if you can track her down, maybe, and see if she’s going to the race. I’m sure she’d love to see you again.”

“Natalie, that’s genius.”

“What is?”

“We have a limited number of paddock passes we can give out to guests, as drivers, and I gave you one for Silverstone this year, and I’m giving some to my parents for the US GP, but I think I still have a couple to use, so if I can track her down, I can give her one.” 

“Oh, that’s a great idea. She shouldn’t be impossible to find, right? You know her first name, at least, and approximately where she lives. This isn’t a big country. But, you have to hurry.” Natalie said. 

Bee went home that night and put in her best efforts on Google trying to find the Adelle that lived in Leeds that shared that flight with her. Apparently “Adelle” was a more common forename in the UK than she’d anticipated, but she had narrowed it down to a few options, until she got lucky on LinkedIn, of all places. She recognized the woman from her profile picture, and she still had the same bright red hair. Once she had a surname, finding an address was easy. Hopefully it was still current.

When she went to the factory in Grove the next day, Bee put together a package of Williams items - two shirts, a hat, and a keychain, along with a letter and two paddock passes, two of her collectible driver cards, both signed. 

Dear Adelle,

I don’t know if you remember me, but we shared a flight together five years ago, coming back to London from the Mexican Grand Prix in 2016. I told you I was a junior driver for an F1 team, and was trying to find a feeder team and wanted to make it into F1.

If you still watch the sport, you are probably aware that I did make it. It hasn’t always been easy. Something you told me that day, on that flight, has stuck in my mind. You said that there was probably a girl out there who was good enough to make it in motorsport, but just wasn’t told enough that she could. When I was 19, I thought that was me. But since then, I’ve come to realize now that I’ve been very fortunate to have a strong group of people - mostly women, supporting me in my journey, and you, in your own small way, whether you know it or not, are among that number. But the story you told me about your daughter - it made me realize that no matter how hard this journey has been, the trouble is worth it if I can bring some visibility to the women that participate in this sport and make the sport more open and welcoming for female fans.

You mentioned, at the time, that you liked to go to the races in North America on your holidays, and I was hoping you were planning on going to the US Grand Prix this year. I have enclosed two paddock passes and two pasess to the Williams garage and hospitality area. If you happen to be there, I’d be honored to have you as my guest in the garage, and you can feel free to bring someone. I hope this makes it to you in time, and that we get to see each other. It would mean a lot to me. 

Thank you again.

Phoebe Stallard

She listed the return address as the factory and hoped the package made it safely to its destination.

There were two races to go until the United States Grand Prix; Russia, and Turkey. 

Russia was not kind to Bee. She qualified well, ending up at the top of Q2, even though the track was wet and rapidly drying. George, however, qualified third. Not Q3, actual third place. It was stunning to see, and the paddock was almost buzzing about it - Williams still wouldn’t be in the championship running for a while, but their return to form over the past 2 seasons had been impressive.

Rain started falling on the last 5 laps of the race. As soon as Bee saw the track conditions changing, she cursed out loud on the radio, forgetting it was live - she was in for a points finish, but weather conditions always had the possibility of reshuffling the deck.

Bee pitted for intermediate tyres right away, but spun out on one of the last laps and had enough damage from the resulting collision that she had to retire. She didn’t finish the race, but was still classified because she’d completed more than 90% of it. At least George had gotten himself into the points with a sixth-place finish. 

Turkey was an interesting race. Bee hadn’t ever been to Turkey, and actually would have enjoyed spending more time in the country itself. But they were getting to the point in the season calendar where grid penalties were plentiful - each car was only allowed a certain number of component swaps per season, be they for replacing power units (which consisted of the gas engine, electric motors, and an energy recovery system) elements or engines. 

Every swapped major component or engine over the allotment for the season meant that your car incurred a grid penalty, no matter what your qualifying result was. Replacing an engine over the allotment would set you back ten places on the grid, no matter what your qualifying place was. Other components could mean having to start from the back of the grid. 

Bee knew her car was about to exceed the allotment for engines, so she begged Claire to have the swap done for her car for Turkey instead of risking the penalty for the United States GP. They weren’t in contention for the championship, so it really didn’t matter where or when she got the grid penalty, but she wanted every chance to podium in Austin she could get. 

Claire agreed, and Bee took a 10-grid-place penalty in Turkey. She had managed to qualify in 10th, which means she’d made it into Q3. It was a shame to be knocked back down to 20th (or 17th, really, because of other drivers incurring penalties) but it meant that she was able to get to Q3, which was important for Austin.

It was the first race she’d ever remembered running, at least in F1, without a single retirement. George placed 7th, and she placed 10th. She wondered how things might have shaken out if she hadn’t taken a grid penalty, but it had to be done. 

Austin, Travis County, Texas, United States of America October 18th, 2021

Bee landed in Austin a few days ahead of when the rest of the team would be arriving, but the bulk of her extended family had flown down from the Midwest - most of them from Michigan, but she had cousins that lived in Illinois and Ohio as well. Her parents would be flying in from Stuttgart as well.

Emilia decided to come early with her - normally, they mostly traveled separately, as Emilia still primarily resided in Germany, but she wanted a little more time to prepare. This was the first of the long flyaway races, so they’d be gone on a longer trip, and she was intrigued by the United States. 

“So what is your family like? I’ve met your parents, but this is your entire extended family, right - like, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins?” Emilia said on the flight over.

“They’re… loud. Friendly, but loud. And most of them like to talk. They’ll probably ask you a lot of questions. They’re all basically the opposite of anyone from Germany, so if you want to pretend you don’t speak English to get out of socializing, you’ll need to decide now and commit to that.”

Emilia scoffed. “I’ve met plenty of Americans. You’re American, in case you’d forgotten”

“Ah, you say that,” Bee said, trying hard to hide her smile. “but you met me after I’d been raised in Germany, and you met my parents after they’d lived and worked in Germany for over a decade. It’s not the same.” 

“This should be fun”, Bee thought.

“I will give you one piece of advice. If anyone asks ‘How are you?’, it’s more of a greeting and not an actual question. You can just give a non-specific answer, like ‘Good’, or ‘I’m fine.’ That should make things a lot easier.”

Emilia looked confused. “But… Why would they ask if they don’t want to know? Why ask a question you don’t want an answer for?” 

Bee laughed. “Like I said, it’s not an actual question. Just treat it as a greeting, and the response is ‘Good, and you?’ If you say any more than that, you might invite a conversation that might become way longer than you want it to be.”

Emilia shook her head. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”

Once they landed, they went to their hotel to unpack and get ready to meet Bee’s family. They were all meeting for dinner at a restaurant called Vivo. Bee’s parents had made a reservation so they could all eat outside together on the restaurant’s patio. 

It was a strange experience - Bee hadn’t seen a lot of her relatives in-person for years, aside from her grandparents - even that was three years ago now. They peppered her with questions, mostly about Drive to Survive (because they’d started watching it when it debuted, just like everyone else did, and Bee suspected that most of them still didn’t actually watch the races.)

It was a bit funny to Bee - people that were real, her coworkers, more or less, that she spent so much time with - were television characters to them, like they were being played by actors. She did her best to answer their questions, but it felt like being in a rapid-fire press conference.

“That Daniel Ricciardo seems so nice, is he like that for real?” 

“Yes. He’s exactly how he is on the show, but he’s also kind of… the class clown, I guess. Always playing pranks.”

“Do those engineer guys really talk to you through the entire race? How can you focus like that?”  

“They’re not talking constantly, and they have important information. My engineer’s name is Gaetan. He’s French.”

Emilia, meanwhile, had either ignored or had forgotten Bee’s advice, and had found herself trapped in a conversation with one of Bee’s aunts that she hadn’t necessarily meant to get herself into. Bee turned around at one point and saw the thinly-veiled expression of anguish on Emilia’s face, and decided to jump to her rescue.

“Hi, Aunt Debbie. Nice to see you again. Oh, I’m doing great! Happy to be back in the US for a few days! Yes, I’m excited you’re here for the race, too! I just came to see if Emilia had decided what she wanted to eat. Come on, let’s grab a menu.” 

“Thank you,” Emilia said, relieved, as they left Lisa to talk to one of Bee’s other aunts. “She was telling me about her gallbladder removal, in great detail.”

“See? I told you this would happen. She’s an oversharer anyway. But in all seriousness, have you looked at the menu?” Bee said, as they sat at a picnic table by themselves, heads together, poring over the listed fare.

“I don’t know what any of this is,” Emilia said, puzzled over the Spanish names for the dishes. “I’ve never had this food.”

“Okay, well, you like chicken, right? Try the fajita taco plate - that’s always pretty safe, and… ooh, beef enchiladas. That’s what I’m getting. You can try it, if you want.”

So, Emilia had her first encounter with Tex-Mex food. She loved the fajitas, (“These are so good. Why can’t we have these in Germany?” “I could make them for you, if you want, next time you’re in Oxford.” “But your cooking is…” “Okay, fair.” ) but thought Bee’s enchiladas were a bit on the spicy side. (“You eat currywurst, how is this spicy to you?” “It’s a different spicy!”)

They had some drinks (not too many for Bee, at least), which made Bee’s family a little easier to take for Emilia. After the dinner party had dispersed, Bee and Emilia stayed and talked to Bee’s parents for a while, because they were all on European time and weren’t quite ready to head back to the hotel for bed, yet.

While they were sitting and talking, they all had a few more drinks, too. Emilia had quite a few more, and ended up more tipsy than she probably would have liked to have been. She was a clingy, huggy drunk, as it turned out. It was difficult, though - Emilia was eight inches taller than Bee, and practically toppled her over as she was hanging on to Bee for support as they were waiting for their ride back to the hotel. 

She didn’t take Emilia back to her room - Bee’s room had two beds, so she poured Emilia into the extra bed and pumped her full of water and ibuprofen, just so she could keep an eye on her.

“You’re my favorite,” Emilia said, in slurred German. She was splayed across the spare bed, and had asked Bee to tuck her in. Bee thought it was silly, but was oddly charmed by it. She sat on the edge of Emilia’s bed, talking to her until she fell asleep.

“I’m so glad I get to travel with you like this, because you’re my favorite client and probably my favorite person. I love spending time with you so much.” Emilia’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, but she was smiling at Bee.

“But I’m your only client right now.” Bee said. It was true. Emilia still worked for a performance coaching company, but like most F1 drivers that used that company’s services, Bee had hired her exclusively, a necessity of her busy schedule.

“I had other clients before you hired me!” She said, “But none of them have been as nice! Or as pretty. You’re very pretty. Did you know that? You have such pretty dark hair. And your blue eyes. I noticed you and your dad have the same eyes. Is that weird that I noticed that?”

“No, it’s true, I do have his eyes.” Bee was trying not to blush. “You should go to sleep, though. We have a long week ahead, but we have some time to do a few fun things tomorrow. And we can get some real barbecue for lunch, just like you wanted.”

“Okay. Goodnight, liebes.” Emilia said, drifting off to sleep.

“Liebes?” Bee thought. 

It was a term of endearment in German - the same as calling someone “sweetheart”, “love”, or “honey”, in English. It was startling, and Bee wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, but decided to let it go - Emilia probably had no idea what she was saying.

Circuit of the Americas, Austin, Travis County, Texas, United States of America October 22nd, 2021

It was only Friday, and it had already been a long week for Bee. It had been a fun week, though. She and Emilia had explored a little bit of downtown Austin on Wednesday before Bee had any media or team obligations. Emilia had woken up only a little worse for the wear, but a barbecue lunch had fixed that. (“This is so good, and you get so much food with your order.” Bee had almost expected her to make a “this is why Americans are fat” joke like most Europeans would, but she passed on it.) 

Emilia had virtually no memory of returning to the hotel that night, and said she was surprised when she woke up in a room that wasn’t hers.

“So she doesn’t remember flirting with me, or whatever that was, I guess.” Bee thought. She was surprised at how disappointed it made her feel. It wasn’t possible that she was falling in love with her performance coach… was it?

On Wednesday, she’d filmed a few things for Williams’ social media channels, including the reveal for her special Austin GP helmet, and a challenge with George where he had to try to guess how American towns were pronounced. She also was scheduled out for a bunch of interviews and other videos with some American TV broadcasters, like ESPN - they had her and George do a basketball free throw challenge. Bee was never very good at basketball, but she did better than George did.

George had also made a special helmet for the Austin GP, that was cowboy-themed. It didn’t suit him at all, but Bee thought it was endearing. Bee’s helmet was a little more personal and didn’t have much to do with Texas at all, but she’d been planning it out forever and it was gratifying to see the final product. It was strange to see him - a buttoned-up, stereotypical posh Brit wearing a 10-gallon cowboy hat and shooting basketball free throws. 

She spotted Susie in the paddock before free practice, and was ecstatic. 

“I wasn’t actually sure if you were going to come to this race!” Bee said, giving her a hug.

“Well, surprise! I knew this was a big race for you, and I didn’t want to miss it. I didn’t get to see your first race, but I’ll get to see your first actual home race. I’m going to be in the Williams garage on Sunday, too!” 

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” Bee said. “My parents are here as well, they’ll be excited to see you. They’ll be in the paddock tomorrow.”

They chatted a bit longer, but Bee had to go to Free Practice. She really liked seeing Susie at races, but it seemed like they never got long enough to sit and talk before either one of them had to be running off to something. 

She headed over to her driver’s room, where Emilia had finished getting everything set up for the weekend and was ready to start Bee on her warmups. She had to change first, but then it was always usually the same routine - a little bit of light, in-place cardio work with resistance bands to get her heart rate up and blood moving, then some neck strength work, some reaction time work with a series of buttons that had lights that flashed in different colors on them. 

Then, Emilia always helped her with some assisted stretching, some breathing exercises, and some light massage to keep Bee relaxed and loose, if she needed it. Every driver had their own little ritual and routine, and this was simply what she found had worked for her. 

Finally, it was time for Bee’s first practice runs on the circuit. She hadn’t ever driven on it, and it looked like it was going to be a challenge. The track had a whopping 20 turns - most tracks had 10-13 of them, and ran anti-clockwise, which was the opposite direction of most tracks. Not only that, but the first corner off of the start/finish straight went up a steep hill, with a bump that could disrupt your braking, and you had to downshift very quickly into the turn. And that was all just on the first turn, never mind the rest of it. 

Plus, it was hot the morning of Free Practice 1, which would mean that Free Practice 2, in the afternoon, would be even hotter. The challenge was going to be tire management - keeping the tires cool and not letting them degrade, which would mean punctures. It was the end of October, but it was still Texas. 

Bee looked at the grandstands during her first out-lap - it was packed, already, even for a Free Practice session, which meant that the audience for qualifying and the race would be absolutely massive. The last time she was here, in Austin, they had to throw a Taylor Swift concert to entice people to come - it didn’t look like that would be necessary this year. 

Williams Racing YouTube Channel

Phoebe Stallard reveals her helmet design for the United States Grand Prix

91,307 views October 23rd, 2021

Transcript: Hi everyone! I’m Phoebe Stallard from Williams Racing, and I just want to talk about my helmet for the US Grand Prix this weekend. It’s my first US GP! I joined Formula 1 last year, but the 2020 US Grand Prix was canceled because of COVID-19. I’m the only American on the grid, other than honorary American Daniel Ricciardo. This is my home Grand Prix, and obviously, I had a special helmet made! I just wanted to talk through some of the details, because this helmet is really kind of… well, it’s deeply personal to me, and it’s probably my favorite custom design yet.

So, on the top, we have the emblem from the Dodge Super Bee, which was a classic muscle car made in the late 60’s by the Chrysler Corporation, one of the Big 3 car companies based in my home city of Detroit. It’s kind of been a… nickname for me for a long time? I think Danny Ricciardo is the one that started calling me that, and it caught on over the years with fans, and I always liked it, even if Danny started calling me that to tease me because I was so scrawny as a teenager. Plus, it’s kind of a tribute to my dad, who was the one that got me into racing in the first place. He started his career at Chrysler as an automotive engineer. I did make a subtle change to it, though, to make it a little more personal - the bee has a little ponytail coming out of her helmet.

And then on the right here, we have the iconic “Rosie the Riveter” poster from World War 2, with the classic “We Can Do It” text on the top. I always thought it was pretty inspiring, because it shows a woman doing what was traditionally considered men’s work, and racing used to be kind of considered a man’s world. On the bottom of her coveralls, I put the signatures of both Lella Lombardi and Susie Wolff, who are both women in racing that I am inspired by. 

Lella Lombardi was the first woman to ever earn a point in the Formula 1 series, and until Monza this year, she was also the only one to have a top six finish in a World Championship race. 

Susie Wolff, as most people know, was a test and development driver for Williams, and was the first woman to take part in a Grand Prix weekend in 22 years when she participated in Free Practice 1 the 2014 British Grand Prix. She’s basically been my mentor since I was in Formula Renault. She’s an inspiration for all women wanting to compete in motorsport - I literally do not think I would have made it to Formula 1 without her kind of… advice and guidance. She also founded the Dare to Be Different foundation that works to get more girls interested in motorsport, and I’m really happy to be an ambassador for the organization. I definitely would have been remiss if I didn’t put some sort of tribute to Susie on this helmet. 

On the back, we’ve got an image of the Spirit of Detroit statue. I am originally from the Detroit area, and this statue is right downtown on Woodward Avenue. It’s always kind of been an iconic symbol of Detroit, it’s a really important landmark, I’ve always really loved it. And there’s the motto of the City of Detroit on it - “Speramus Meliora” and “Resurget Cineribus”, which means “We Hope For Better Things / It Shall Rise From the Ashes”. Detroit is a tough city, but it’s a city that’s always kind of… been out to prove everyone wrong, you know? A lot of people wanted to write it off entirely a few years ago, when the auto industry went bust and the city itself had to declare bankruptcy, but it’s still there, and there’s so much going on there now, it’s great. I don’t make it home very much, but I’m always really proud to represent it.

On the left side, we have my number, number 50, on a field of red, white, and blue stars, because it’s America, right? Had to show a little patriotism for my first US GP. Plus, it matches the current Williams livery which is handy!

And then, under my visor, we have the letters J & J S, which is for my parents, John and Josephine Stallard, because they’ve always been really supportive of my racing career. My dad was the one that got me into karting, because he thought it was something we could do together - he was always my mechanic, because he’s an automotive engineer. He never really pushed me into it, he just introduced me to racing and I kind of fell in love with it on my own, but both my mom and dad were really supportive of it. 

My dad used to work for Chrysler, and we moved to Germany because of his job, but when we had the option to move back to the US, he took a job with Mercedes so we could stay in Germany because I liked karting, and it’s a lot easier to advance in Europe. So, my parents made a lot of sacrifices, living so far away from home, so we could stay in Europe so I could keep racing, so I had to put some sort of tribute to them on here, too. 

[cammie-morgan-goode]

Wow. Tearjerker prompts are ooohhffff. You haven't even written a story and I think I teared up a little.... but who doesn't love a good cry in the name of our favorite fictional characters! So, hahaha if you could, can you write "you must think I'm stupid" Matt/Rachel?

Matthew Morgan will be the first to tell you that he’s only human. He’ll be the first to tell you that he makes mistakes and he’ll accept the consequences.

Being a spy is hard. Being a secret agent tracking down a national terrorist organization is even harder. But being a dad? That’s the hardest.

The late nights are always the worst. Cammie won’t stop crying and fussing. He’s changed her diaper. She was fed before bed. She even refused her pacifier. She doesn’t want to lay down or be put down. She just won’t stop crying.

Matt bounces her in his arms, trying to soothe her. He tries humming a lullaby and that only makes her cry harder.

It’s well past two in the morning and Matt is tired. He just got back a few days ago from an undercover op in Moscow and he’s still pretty jet lagged. The lack of sleep and the constant crying do not make for a good combination. Matt jumps when there’s a light knock on the door of the nursery.

“Need some help?” Rachel asks softly. She’s wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He can’t remember the last time she even showered. Her hair is a mess, falling in front of her face. And yet, she hasn’t looked more beautiful.

Matt stays quiet as Rachel picks Cammie up in her arms. She hums quietly, gently rocking their little girl against her chest. Cammie’s cries continue and then fade away into the night. Rachel smiles down at her as Matt watches beside her. Rachel dances slightly across the room, keeping Cammie asleep before she lays her down in the crib. She caresses her cheek and sighs happily.

For someone who has barely slept she’s awfully happy. It makes Matt’s heart plummet. He stares down at his feet. “You must think I’m stupid,” He says, hands in the pockets of his pajama pants.

Rachel looks up at him, pulling her focus away from their daughter. “Stupid?” She repeats, her brow furrowing. Where had that even come from? “Why would you think that?”

Matt shrugs before looking up at her. “I can’t even get her to stop crying. She hates me,” He says, gesturing to the crib.

“Matt, she’s barely two months old. She doesn’t hate you, honey,” she says, making her way over to her husband. “She was only tired,”

He watches her and then glances back at the crib. He hated hearing her cry. He hated it more than he hated getting stuck in traffic. He hated it more than he hated his mother’s gravy biscuits. He hated it.

Rachel slips her arms around Matt’s waist, laying her head against his chest. She waits until his arms fold her in a hug. She looks up at him, resting her chin on his chest. “That baby girl is going to have you wrapped around her little fingers,” she grins.

Matt smiles a bit and kisses Rachel on the forehead. He’d get the hang of this whole dad thing. At least he hoped he would.

“She already does.”

(Written by: @cammie-morgan-goode)